#i was wondering what happened and basically i was so stressed i started growing white hair

[official-saul-goodman]

APPARENTLY I HAVE THE STREAK OF PURE WHITE HAIR DUE TO POLIOSIS I GOT BECAUSE OF SEVERE PSYCHOLOGICAL STRESS WHEN I WAS DOING MY GCSES

[moon-lv3r]

the white hyacinths on the floor (i don’t know what to do) ~ yuzugiri pt 3

🦋 category: angst, hanahaki

🦋 characters: yuzuriha, sagiri,

🦋 summary: in which sagiri tries to find yuzuriha before its too late

part 1 - realisation

part 2 - revelation

part 3 - solution

🦋 warnings: nil

🦋 notes: sorry this took so long !! a lot has happened during my school term. basically i was drowning in a shit load of projects and burned the midnight oil almost everyday towards the end. my mother also decided to kick me out of the house because i wanted to have a late lunch (i was rushing for something) i ended up travelling an hour to a friend's house LMAO

and my dad forced me to apologise to my mom like a week later, despite knowing ONLY my side of the story (my mom didn't want to tell him) and knew it was his goddamn wife's fault but still made me and only me apologise. yeah i am mad at them both, my dad hit me with the "shes your mom" as if i am not their kid

anyways turns out my mom also has some illness that relates to her temper or whatever. shes a bad mom so idc anyways

anyways i finished this story just in time for pride month!!! have fun reading, i stayed up late till 4am 5 nights in a row to complete

 It has been at least a week since Yuzuriha was last seen. No traces of the woman have been found anywhere. It seemed as though she just vanished into thin air, turning herself into a mystery.

  Her intentions were clear, to find someone who would rid her lungs of those impurities. Someone who would help her live… 

  Nobody claimed to have spotted the girl wondering about. Sagiri was beginning to panic, she had to find Yuzuriha before it was too late.

  Before all that was left of her was a floral corpse. A breathless sight of tragedy. 

  They didn’t escape that island for this to happen. They remained alive, and they will stay alive. Sagiri was willing to do anything to ensure that. 

  Yui’s words rang in her mind as she went to the couple’s house after finding the mystery. The potential solution…

  “Perhaps you need to navigate your own feelings as well?”

  What was there to navigate? Haven’t they just been pure friends? It was all purely platonic on Sagiri’s side, was it not? They were always close, clicked, right for each other. 

  She just had to find Yuzuriha. She was afraid.

  What if she found her remains? What if Yuzuriha was too far gone as Sagiri finally reached her? What will she do then? What could she do? 

  Endless pessimism ran rampant in her mind as her actions sprung towards her goal. 

  She had no idea where to start looking for her lost platonic companion. Where has Yuzuriha really gone? The panic in Sagiri rose with each passing second, her stress growing heavier and heavier…

  Her carefully constructed questions led to nowhere in her mind. Few clues presented themselves to Sagiri. She wondered if Yuzuriha had done it on purpose, so that she would not be found. Perhaps Yuzuriha had it all planned out, maybe she knew what she was doing, and she knew she did not want to be found.

  What if Sagiri wanted to find her then, what should she do?

  Perhaps she should start to think like Yuzuriha. What would she do? What would she cover up? Given her condition, what would she do? What was the best course of action she would take? 

  Of course she had to be on her way, looking for someone to rid her of the roots of the problem. How would Yuzuriha start her search? There had to be some hint…

  Walks often led Sagiri back into the abandoned confines of Yuzuriha’s home. Silence was the sole thing that remained in the room. Ever so deafening it was, loudly reminding Sagiri of the impending, potential doom. 

  Time was working against her. Every second she spent, Yuzuriha was closer to death. The final breath that could come any moment. Flowers bloom as doom showers down on them…

  To find Yuzuriha after her final breath was a nightmare Sagiri wished never came true. What would she do if she lost her dear friend…

  They have been friends all this while right…?

  What made Yuzuriha cross the line? Did she willingly cross it? When did she realise? How did she realise? Did she only realise when the flowers were taking over her?

  What did the flowers symbolise? 

  Why the white hyacinth specifically? 

  The flower symbolised love and prayer. The days they had spent praying for each other’s safety while on that island…

  Was that the moment Yuzuriha realised she fell? Because they cared for each other? Sagiri didn’t want Yuzuriha to die, but she did not feel the same feelings as Yuzuriha… Was it even possible to fall for each other like that, they were both girls…

  Sagiri was slowly beginning a spiral down into the core of her emotions. Suddenly all that she knew became unknown. All that she was familiar with suddenly became foreign. All that she believed became a lie. What was in her mind? 

  What was she feeling?

  It felt foreign, yet so familiar? Like something she had been experiencing before, but she had no idea what it was. 

  Would figuring out her emotions now be of any good? Would it help? Surely Sagiri wasn’t lying to herself about her own emotions. She knew what she felt towards Yuzuriha, and it was all but romantic… right?

  She kept asking herself the same questions over and over again, as if it made any difference.   What really was the difference that separated both feelings? How does one realise which one was which? What was the turning point? How does one step across it? How did Yuzuriha allow herself to cross it?   So many questions, and Sagiri had no idea what to do. What could she do? 

  She followed trails of whatever she could find, hoping to hunt down who Yuzuriha decided to visit to drive her away from her impending doom. Some doctor a few villages away… was he that skilled? Sagiri knew she had to be fast, or else Yuzuriha might already be gone. 

  What would be left of her then?

  What would Yuzuriha leave behind?

  That’s it… There was no way Yuzuriha would leave absolutely nothing behind, right? Maybe there was a clue, something Sagiri has missed. The doctor… There had to be something laying somewhere.

  Maybe Sagiri was looking in the wrong place. Maybe it was outside. Surely some trails were left behind for Sagiri to tail. Footprints, whatever. There must be something.

  Sagiri decided on the nearest town to begin her search. If Yuzuriha were to seek a doctor, surely they must be from elsewhere. Why hasn't she thought of this earlier? Something was wrong with her. 

  Sagiri wasn’t usually like this. Maybe she was just stressed out, tired. That must be it.

  She was glad that the journey over to the next town wasn’t a long one, one that didn’t take days. In a few hours, she would be there. If all goes well, she could be able to see Yuzuriha in at least a day. 

  The foreign town bore no sense of familiarity, Sagiri could not sense Yuzuriha. Perhaps she was not here after all.

  She walked about, mingling with the foreign faces. Sagiri didn’t realise that she missed being called Sagirin. It was a silly nickname, one she had missed as time lingered on. 

  As the sun began to set, Sagiri tried to find an inn. She could not just sleep on the streets. The one she found was at the very end of the street, dimly lit, yet it held the most guests out of every inn. 

  Sagiri went in and got herself a room. Her dinner went by silently as well, until the inn owner decided to strike up a conversation with the swordswoman. It was his first time seeing a sword being welded by a woman, so naturally his curiosity was piqued. 

  “A woman doing a man’s job, not easy eh?” The inn owner began.

  Sagiri shrugged, “I don’t find it hard.”

  The struggles she went through flashed in her mind. The hesitation she used to hold before being able to perfect herself. It was never easy, but it never stopped her. The bloodshed was something her eyes had to be used to. The colour red had to be welcomed by her sight everyday. 

  “Why not other jobs? Surely there must be one that is easy for a maiden like you.” The inn owner continued.

  “I’m a maiden that enjoys holding onto a sword,” Sagiri replied. She wanted to change the topic.

  The inn owner laughed, “You know… you remind me of a customer that left yesterday. She’s like you. Kunoichi… whatever. One hell of a woman, that girl.”

  Kunoichi? Yuzuriha?

  This was her chance. She had to use it. To find out where she went. Who knew another clue would fly so easily into Sagiri’s hands? It was almost as though Sagiri was meant to find Yuzuriha. 

  “Was she… by any chance, wearing purple?” Sagiri asked.

  The inn owner nodded enthusiastically, “How did you know?” 

  “Just a guess,” Sagiri replied.

  The inn owner laughed, “You know… that girl did mention a word or two about a samurai. Thought she was talking about a man, guess that's not the case. So… what happened between you two?” The inn owner asked.

  Sagiri went silent. What lie should she say? What would be believable? 

  “We just… uh… fought. Girl stuff. You know… yeah, something like that,” Sagiri stumbled upon her words. 

  “Well I can tell you that she’s off, heading towards a doctor in those dense woods out there. Find her quickly. Navigate those feelings while you’re at it. There’s something you’re not telling me, and her. If you want to fix what’s left, communicate all that you’re hiding,” The inn owner advised. 

  He left her alone after that. 

  Alone with her own thoughts. 

  What was she hiding? Surely Sagiri herself would know. How could everyone around her know she’s hiding something when she doesn’t even know what she's hiding from herself? What was she not realising about herself?

  Was it bad?

  Was it good? 

  That very night, Sagiri watched the ceiling. She laid on the bed. Her mind being endlessly plagued by the words of Yui and the inn owner. Was she overthinking this? Maybe she was underthinking her own emotions. What could she really be hiding from herself?   Or rather… What does she not want to believe about herself? 

  Could she really be in love with Yuzuriha?

  How does one tell the difference between romantic and platonic? 

  How was Sagiri supposed to figure herself out? Was she supposed to just find out as she goes on the damn journey? How does one just… realise it?

  Maybe she just has to look into how she has been feeling all this while? The dread… maybe it would finally tell her something. 

  But what separated it from worrying for a friend? What caused the change? Maybe this was the thing she had to figure out. 

  Figure out her true feelings. Surely that can’t be too hard, she hoped.

  How did Yuzuriha realise her’s?

  The thought of losing her forever, the thought of her never having any more adoration for Sagiri… The thought of seeing Yuzuriha’s corpse… after all that they have been through. The thought that Yuzuriha might just end up different after her surgery…

  All of it.

  It was haunting Sagiri.

 In the deathly silence of the night, where no sounds could be heard, Sagiri’s head was being pounded by her own thoughts. The imaginary noise was draining her. 

  The vague mental image of Yuzuriha… Her eyes soulless. Her hair riddled with mud. Her body laying in the middle of the woods. Her mouth overflowed with white hyacinths. Her limbs twisted, surrounded by vines. Her body being used as a flowery display.

  Yuzuriha being no longer human. Her body not looking humane to the eyes. Resembling the corpses of those who went to the island they escaped from…

  Sagiri was just glad that Yuzuriha only left the inn a day before Sagiri arrived. She was not too late. Maybe the surgery hasn’t started yet.

  The thought of venturing into the woods was beginning to plague her mind.

  Could she really afford to waste time? Laying on the bed, pondering over her emotions? Sagiri was being so irrational…

  She wasn’t like her usual self. The way she was whenever Yuzuriha was around.

  Sagiri wasn’t normal when Yuzuriha was gone…

  Was that it?

  Was that the answer she needed?   The answer has always been there, she just never saw it, did she? But she could always feel it. 

  Maybe she should’ve realised her true feelings sooner. The way she was with Yuzuriha and the way she was around everyone else. It was very telling wasn’t it? The answer has always been in her mind, hasn’t it?

  She can’t just let Yuzuriha go, she had to get her back. It was not too late. There’s still time. The doctor in the woods…

  She needed a map, or at least just some sort of an indicator. She had no idea how the doctor’s even looked. Was it like a little hut? What was she supposed to find? Could she wake up the inn owner and inquire more from him? Would he even help?

  She was all alone on this journey, was she not? 

  The first thing she was going to do the moment the sun rose was to find Yuzuriha. She would hunt her down, no matter what it takes. She will find her, before the surgery. 

  Sagiri finally realised all that she felt.

  It’s clear to her now. 

  She figured out most of it. 

  She has the answers, and it can help Yuzuriha. 

  The morning sun arose as Sagiri got ready to set out. She was not going to let a single drop of the sunlight go to waste. She was determined. Yuzuriha was not going to die, nor will she rid herself of the flowers feeding off her feelings. 

  Each step brought forth uncertainty. She did not know what to expect, most importantly, she did not know her entire way. She had stolen a map before leaving, but was that really going to help her?

  Rumours in the town have it that some mysterious doctor stays in a little hut in the middle of the woods. That was all that she knew. 

  Would she reach in time? She sure hoped so. 

  The tree branches blocked off some of her source of light, the shadows stayed on the ground. The light and dark remind her of the two possibilities.

  Seeing Yuzuriha, and her still having the light in her eyes.

  Seeing Yuzuriha, but her eyes being empty, dark and soulless. 

  The two outcomes.

  What if Yuzuriha never even made it to the doctor’s and died on her way? There were so many possibilities…

  What if the doctor didn’t even exist?

  Sagiri was already on her way, she could not just stop now. She could only continue, she could only hope. It was all that she had

  Please… Yuzuriha… Be safe.

  The same thought repeated itself in her mind.

  She hoped that Yuzuriha wouldn’t die in her arms. Her blood dripped on the ground below them… the white hyacinth she had been coughing up in her hands, tainted with her own blood…

  A sight Sagiri hoped will never come true. 

  The path she was on, she could only hope it was leading her to where she wanted to go. Leading her to Yuzuriha. 

  The deeper she was in the woods, the more nervous she grew. Her palms increased in sweat as the overwhelming sense of uncertainty washed over her mind. Sagiri could not let those negative feelings take over her mind, she had to maintain her confidence. Yuzuriha had to be safe. 

  The morning sun grew brighter, the path luminating before her very eyes. She was getting closer and closer to her goals. 

  Each and every step brought her closer and closer. Soon she would be there, standing right before the answers she had been waiting for. Everything she would ever need.

  Yuzuriha…

  She would soon be there… Please Yuzuriha just be alive. Be safe…

  That was all Sagiri requested. 

  She could see smoke rising above the trees, a sign of life amidst the trees. That was it, the hut, the doctor.

  Yuzuriha. 

  Sagiri ran towards the source. Her eyes remained fixed on the smoke, hoping that she was on the right track. She was getting closer and closer. Her heart thumped against her chest, excitement, fear, anxiety ran rampant in her mind.

  There was no backing out, not that she intended on doing so anyway. Sagiri finally found what she was searching for. She just hoped that she was not too late.

  The hut was situated in a clearing. It seemed normal, does not look like somewhere a doctor would be at, much less a place for a surgery to take place. Was she at the wrong place? This place seemed to accommodate all of the rumours about the doctor… Sagiri decided to take her chances. 

  It was peaceful however, quiet and away from all of the people. She wondered if that was why the doctor chose to be away. Maybe the doctor just wanted a peaceful life. 

  Sagiri approached the hut, stopping right in front of the door. Her hand outstretched, ready to knock. Hesitation stopped her. What if this wasn’t the right hut? What should she even say if this was the right one? 

  At this stage, what did she have to lose?

  She knocked.

  An old, short man with an overgrown beard answered the door with a smile. “How may I help you young lady?” 

  Sagiri took a deep breath. What was the worst that could happen? “Are you a doctor? I am looking for someone.”

  The old man nodded his head, seemingly understanding of the situation. He said nothing, except for motioning for Sagiri to enter his cosy confines. 

  “I understand now,” the old man answered as he shut the door.

  Sagiri turned around to face him, “Understand what?”

  “Come out girl,” the old man announced.

  A door beside the kitchen opened. An all too familiar face revealed herself to Sagiri. She was wearing a robe, with a cheeky smile plastered over her face.

  Yuzuriha.

  “Why did her flowers disappear on their own overnight. Her white hyacinths and coughing fits ended,” the old man announced. “We still have the hyacinths from previous fits if you’d like to see.”

  Sagiri frowned, “Her flowers are gone?”

  The old man nodded, “The cause of the flowers is unrequited love. I guess it’s returned now. I’ll let you two talk.”

  The old man took his cane and slowly walked into the room beside the one Yuzuriha exited from. The two girls shared an awkward glance before Yuzuriha sat down beside Sagiri.

  “How did you realise that I am the most amazing girl on earth and that you can only fall for me?” Yuzuriha teased with a grin. 

  Sagiri sighed, “I hear one more word from you and it’s going back to unrequited feelings.” 

  “You really want me to die huh,” Yuzuriha laughed. 

  Yuzuriha was having horrible coughing fits the night before. She doubled over in pain as she puked blood alongside the damn white hyacinth. She didn’t even know if she could live until the very next morning. Even the doctor was worried, but he could only start the surgery the next afternoon when he received his new equipment from a delivery.

  Suddenly she woke up feeling perfectly fine in the morning. She was confused. Yuzuriha had multiple thoughts in her mind as she realised what her state was. She had thought that Sagiri was dead, for some reason.

  It wasn’t until she saw Sagiri right before her eyes that she finally realised what happened.

  “I really do like you… Yuzuriha. The thought of seeing your dead body… just you being gone. Or our relationship being different after your surgery… I don’t know, I just… can’t handle it…” Sagiri began, clenching her fists, her eyes failing to meet Yuzuriha’s.

  Yuzuriha laughed, “You would never lose me. That’s silly, I am right here Sagirin. There’s nothing to worry about. I’m… glad you’re here.”

   Sagiri threw her arms around Yuzuriha, embracing her in the tightest, loveliest hug that Yuzuriha has ever felt in her life. “I am just glad you’re alright… You’re safe…” Sagiri cried.

  “You really missed me that bad huh,” Yuzuriha hugged back, wiping away some of Sagiri’s tears. 

  Sagiri gave a small nod.

  “I won’t lose you again I promise. I won’t let you run off like that again.”

[ryosmne]

Three brats??

Dad!Sukuna x f!reader

So this is basically a comfort fic, featuring dad! Sukuna because the brainrot was too much. Ok so, the reader and Sukuna have a son together, yes their son is Yuuji, I know this is usually the single father Sukuna trope, but I wanted to give it a go, feedback is always appreciated. Thanks for brainrotting with me @likeab-o-s-s cause this is the reason this exists. That's all from me enjoy reading.

Warnings: none really, just family, heartwarming fluff.

The air was crisp and fresh, unusually refreshing for the beginning of summer. Parents were already gathered outside the daycare, Yuuji, y/n's and Sukuna's son attended, patiently waiting for their kids to run in their arms again.

Sukuna arrived a couple of minutes before the final bell on his motorcycle, he took off his helmet, leaned back on his bike and waited for the familiar little pink head of hair to come wobling to him.

The three mothers next to him, scooted a bit closer to him to get a better look nothing he's unfamiliar with and no one can blame them, Sukuna is a sight for sore eyes. Leather jacket with the sleeves rolled up, extenuating his board shoulders, exposing his tattoo covered skin, v neck white t shirt, allowing his toned chest and even more of his tattoos to show and a simple black pair of pants hugging his muscular thighs in the best of ways.

In the past some of the bolder ones had mustered the courage and asked him if he was a single father since they had never seen his son's mother, but with a laugh Sukuna brushed them off telling them how his lovely wife was a working parent and her schedule just didn't match the daycares. Maybe the very unconventional wedding rings they got weren't the best idea in this situation, even though they were extremely beautiful and unique.

"I really admire the work you put in the little guy" Sukuna's gaze met a woman who attempted to strike a conversation, oblivious to what she had meant by her statement he replied, maybe these three minutes would pass faster talking about normal things and not stressing about work.

"Don't we all put work on our kids?" He spoke calmly with a slight smile that he always wore when talking about Yuuji.

"Yeah, we do, but it still must be hard I can't imagine what you're going through" Sukuna's mind went to the worst scenario. Was Yuuji a trouble maker at school? He is a very well behaved child, both him and y/n made sure to teach him proper manners and how to be polite, that couldn't be it right?

The bell rung, and kids made their way out of the daycare, Yuuji in the blink of an eye was hugging his father's leg, exited to see him after the hours he was gone. In a swift motion Sukuna put Yuuji's little backpack on his own back and scooped the boy up in his arm.

"Yuuji's a pretty good kid, hes never been difficult" Sukuna smilled again resuming in the short conversation with the woman next to him. "Single father's like you don't get the credit they deserve". She spoke again smiling sadly down to the little pink haired boy who seemed too fixated on the earrings his father was wearing.

Sukuna finally understanding what this whole thing was about, chuckled, this had happened before after all, he should've known.

"I'm not a single parent, speaking of that your mom said she has a big surprise for you after dinner" he said directing his attention to his son again, the woman next to him quickly fumbled an apology for missundertanding, to which Sukuna replied to with a simple 'dont worry about it'. He placed Yuuji on his bike, put on both his and his boys helmet and drove off.

Y/n was still stuck at work, thankfully her husband would cook dinner tonight cause overtime was killing both her and her mood, good thing she finally had a day off tomorrow.

Y/n checked her phone to see how close she was to going home only to find a text that Yuuji's teacher had send her that was obviously meant for her husband.

Hello Mr Itadori, this is Mrs Laura from the day care. I was wondering if you wanted to get launch with me after school tomorrow, you can bring little Yuuji too, I'm awaiting your response, have a nice night.

What the hell was that? Well y/n's number was in Yuuji's contact information, she chuckled at the words displayed on her screen but she couldn't really blame the teach, Sukuna was a walking temptation, she knew that first hand, hell she fell head over heels for the dangerous looking guy who hid a heart of gold under his hard exterior, but the teacher could at least check who the number belonged to.

Y/n run her last errands and made sure to pick up Yuuji's surprise before heading home, she even tipped Sukuna off so their son wouldn't know what hit him.

Y/n made her way inside the family house, tossing her keys somewhere on the living room couch.

Yuuji immediately after hearing her car in the driveway came rushing down the stairs, jumping around her like he always did when she came home.

"Mom, mom you're home." The happiness was evident in the boys face, his smile was wide when y/n dropped to his level to pick him up and spin him around

"Yes I am little devil, did you give your father hell like we agreed?" She spoke in the happiest of tones with Yuuji still in her arms. Another set of arms engulfed her frame making her halt on spinning the little boy.

"So you're telling him to be a little brat now huh?" Sukuna's breath tickled the side of her neck and ear as he rested his head on her shoulder and wrapped his strong arms around her waist. "Welcome home love" he spoke again giving her jaw a ghost of a kiss.

"Daddy is the food ready" Yuuji spoke from y/n's arms, Sukuna only laughed at his son's appetite, and directed both him and y/n to the kitchen where he had already set everything up.

"Mommy, what is a single dad?" Yuuji asked in the middle of dinner in typical fashion of his, any question he had from something he heard through the day would always come up during dinner.

"Well Yuuji, single fathers are the fathers who raise their kids alone." The young boy seemed to think about his mother's words before speaking again. "So its just a daddy ?" Yuuji asked again with his eyes growing a bit sadder, his mother nodded, and Yuuji's eyes started to water.

"Baby what's wrong?" y/n asked. "Hey buddy what's going on?" Sukuna was growing quite concerned too. Yuuji burst in tears leaving his seat, climbing up his dad and hugging him tightly. Sukuna was rubbing his back to comfort the young boy and y/n's hand was stroking the kids hair in an effort to calm him down. "B-but why did that lady c-call you that, is m-mommy l-leaving?" Everything seemed to click for Sukuna, y/n was still confused but in the calmest sweetest voice said "Yuuji, baby look at me, I'm not going anywhere ok?" And the boy left his father's arms and clung on to her like his life depended on it.

Sukuna cracked a few jokes and lightened Yuuji's mood so he could enjoy the rest of his dinner, which went pretty well, he was his smiling adorable self very soon after his parents reassured him that none of them were ever leaving his side and the boy was now drawing with crayons in the living room. He seemed to have completely forgotten about the surprise his father mentioned when he picked him up.

Y/n and Sukuna were doing the dishes in the kitchen, each one talking about their day, Sukuna explained the awkward conversation he had at the daycare that sparked Yuuji's sadness, y/n took a turn in talking about how her son's teacher, basically asked Sukuna out on a date but messed up and texted her. "How about you set up a date and you show up? I mean it's you she texted right?" Sukuna joked "Babe, that's cruel" y/n chuckled at her husband's mischievous nature.

"So you've got everything ready?" Sukuna asked. "yeah who'll bring him over?"

"You do it I'll keep Yuuji busy."

Sukuna joined Yuuji on the couch. "What are you drawing little brat?" Y/n heard him ask their boy in the usual sweet tone he had with him. She made her way down the basement, where she kept the surprise since she came home. Yuuji was going to love this, Sukuna was too, she knew she was already in love as well.

Y/n climbed the stairs quickly, and snuck up behind her son, who was occupied by his dad, she gently tapped the boys shoulder.

"A PUPPY" Yuuji announced exited making sure his voice was still soft not to scare the eager dog that his mom brought to his arms. Yuuji gently held the puppy that was licking his face as he was in a fit of laughter and excitement. Sukuna was as exited as his son and y/n had a huge smile on her face too. Their son had begged and begged for a dog ever since his best friend, Megumi got a black German shepherd puppy. Of course y/n and Sukuna wanted to comply to Yuuji's request right away, but they took time to teach little Yuuji everything there was about the responsibility of owning a dog. They took him to dog cafes and shelters, so he would be the perfect little dog owner, they taught him patience and responsibility beforehand. Sukuna visited the local shelter and decided with y/n on a white Shepard puppy that Yuuji always pointed out in your visits because 'he looks like Megumi's puppy they can be friends like we are' who can say no to that little adorable devil?

The puppy momentarily left Yuuji's arms to lick Sukuna's face. "Now we've got two little brats and a big one in our house." He laughed, enjoying the moment.

Y/n was admiring her son and husband as well as the newest member of the family with a smile plastered wide on her face, life was indeed beautiful.

The next day, both Sukuna and y/n were waiting for Yuuji to finish school, since y/n had the day off. Sukuna had his arm protectively around her because this time, others were staring at what was his, but he was proud to show her off to everyone, even in a place as mundane as his son's daycare.

[ravennm84]

Doctor’s Note

We all know how Lila fakes having different diseases and medical problems, but what would happen if she actually got sick and her mother went to the school to drop off a doctor’s note and pick up Lila’s assignments? Want the answer? Warm-Fuzzies and please enjoy!

Greta Rossi could admit that she was a bit of a workaholic. Being the secretary to the assistant ambassador of Italy, in a city that was constantly under attack by a magical terrorist, was not the easiest job in the world either. It took a lot of early mornings, late nights, and even some weekends to make sure everything was prepared for her boss. But that didn’t mean that she wouldn’t drop everything for her one and only daughter when she needed her. 

Right now, for example, Lila was trapped in bed with a nasty case of strep throat. The poor girl had a fever, white pustules at the back of her throat, and could hardly stop coughing. It was only due to some very strong medicine that she was able to stop coughing long enough to pass out from exhaustion. 

She had contacted her work to let them know she would be taking the week off, and the ambassador had been very understanding. Stressing that he knew how dedicated she was to her work and that it was good for her to take time off for her family. It was only after Lila was sound asleep that she made the phone call to her school, she wanted to make sure they knew why Lila was staying home and that she would be in later that afternoon to pick up her daughter’s assignments for the next week.

The principal, M. Damocles was his name, seemed very happy to have spoken to her and said that he would have her assignments waiting when she came to pick them up. Also, if she could bring the doctors’ notes with her, that would be very much appreciated.

Checking again that Lila was sound asleep, she left a note on her daughter’s bedside table that she was running some errands, would be home soon, and to text her if she needed anything. 

Arriving at the school, she was surprised to see everything running so smoothly and that the reconstruction after the two month akuma attack had been gone so well. She was impressed that she couldn’t even tell the difference between the old and new parts of the building. But then, she wasn’t overly skilled with architecture or building construction, so that wasn’t a surprise to her. 

A few knocks on the door and she entered M. Damocles office. She had only met the man a couple times, but he had seemed like a decent person. It was a shame that he had been akumatized for so long and she was curious about what had happened to cause him to be akumatized, but she wasn’t sure if it was proper to ask him.

“Mme. Rossi, good to see you. I understand that Lila has fallen ill?” He asked, spinning around to grab a blue folder behind his desk.

“Yes, the poor dear has strep throat and has been coughing nonstop for days.” Greta told him as she pulled the doctor’s note from her purse. “Here’s the note you requested, do you have her homework packet?”

Damocles looked over the note for a moment before nodding and looking at her expectantly. “Thank you, do you have her other doctor’s notes?”

Greta tilted her head in confusion. “Does she need more than one? It’s just strep throat, she should be back to school after next week.”

“No madam, this is all I need for her current leave from school. I was referring to the doctor’s notes for her tinnitus, arthritis, sprained wrist, and her lying disease. That last one especially, and any information you can give me on accommodating that one so we do not have a repeat of the incident last month.”

Nothing in the world could have kept her jaw from dropping. What he had just told her? “M. Damocles, everything you just said is completely false. Lila has no such ailments, and I don’t think there is such a thing as a lying disease, unless you are referring to pathological lying.”

The man blinked back at her a few times before raising one hand to rub his brow. “Oh my, Mme. Rossi, I believe you and I must have a long discussion about the things your daughter has been saying and doing since she started school here.”

Her legs were stiff as she lowered herself into a chair, a sick feeling growing in her stomach as M. Damocles pulled a different folder out from his desk.

~oOo~

Over two hours later, many truths had finally come out. 

1) The school had never closed for months due to akumas. 

2) When M. Damocles had been akumatized, it had been at night and did no damage to the school. 

3) Greta was not the ambassador, but a secretary. 

4) Lila did not suffer from any diseases. 

5) They had been in Paris since Lila had started school, no globetrotting whatsoever. 

6) She and her husband were not estranged, he had simply wanted to stay at his dream  job in Venice and she would never force him to leave it for her temporary assignment here in Paris. 

7) Lila’s grandmother was alive and had never owned or given Lila a foxtail necklace. 

8) The phone number on file was Lila’s number, not Greta’s. And the email was supposed to be ‘.gov’ not ‘.com’.

Damocles had also called one of Lila’s classmates to his office, Marinette Dupain-Cheng. When the principal told Greta about the incident from the previous month, she was shocked. Then Marinette told them her side of the story; all the lies, the threats, and finally setting the poor girl up to be expelled. Greta had never been so angry with her daughter in her life. Sure, she had been a good little story teller and actress when she was little, but she never would have thought she could be so cruel.

By the end of her explanation, Marinette was practically in tears.

When she mentioned that Adrien Agreste also knew of Lila’s lies, he was called to the office as well. He was a little more reluctant to talk about what Lila had been saying, but Greta insisted that she wanted to know what her daughter had been doing since coming to school, so he told her. If she hadn’t been disgusted before, she definitely was now. Getting Adrien’s father’s employees in trouble, lying about being friends with Ladybug all while telling Greta that she was a useless hero, sexually harassing Adrien while the boy didn’t even realize that was what she was doing to him. She had become a Gabriel model without her permission, which meant that Lila had likely forged her signatures on the contracts, so she would need to contact M. Agreste to get that sorted out. One of the things that surprised her was hearing that Lila had been akumatized, not once or twice, but three times! 

Not long after that, M. Damocles dismissed the children so he and Greta could finish speaking. He told her that, due to falsifying contact records and two months of truancy, Lila was likely to be expelled. Greta accepted this, knowing that she would have done the same thing in that man’s position. In fact, she already had a plan forming on how to thoroughly punish her deceitful daughter. And since Lila had basically been quarantined for the next week and a half, she knew exactly what to do.

First, she began the paperwork to have Lila pulled out of Francois Dupont, effective immediately and asked to go speak to Lila’s classmates. After hearing what her daughter had put Marinette through, she wanted to make sure everyone knew the truth. Damocles allowed this, first pulling Mme. Bustier from the class to alert her as to what was happening. The woman was appalled to hear what had happened but insisted that she had been in contact with her for months via email, to which Greta informed her that it was not her email, but one that Lila had likely set up to keep the school from contacting her. This shocked the teacher to the point where she heavily leaned against the wall and M. Damocles had to support her to keep from collapsing.

When Greta was finally permitted to address the class and debunk the lies that her daughter had been spewing, there had been a lot of shock and questions to follow. But when a girl named Alya began furiously typing on her phone to blow up at Lila, Greta stopped her.

“I’m going to ask that none of you contact Lila from now on.” Alya and the other students looked at her in surprise, but she continued before anyone could interrupt. “I have already begun putting her punishment into motion and know for a fact that it will not be something she will forget anytime soon. So I ask that you do not call, text, or email her. If she attempts to contact you, tell her that you are busy and can’t talk. If she attempts to invite you over or make plans for the future, tell her that you are unavailable or that you already have plans. If she makes any threats or rude remarks to anyone, please forward those messages to me, I will leave my number for you to do so. Do this so that I may move forward with her punishment without her suspecting that I have discovered the truth.”

Having finally had the wool lifted from their eyes, the students realized just how much attention Lila seemed to demand on a daily basis. So, by acting like they were too busy for her or not in the mood to talk, that will drive her crazy and be a nice bit of revenge for lying to them. The class agreed.

After that, Greta headed home to find that Lila was still asleep but beginning to wake up, if the coughing was any indicator. While still having the chance, she called up her husband back in Venice.

“Pronto.”

“Mio amor, how are you? How are things at the school?”

“Ah, mia bella, the school is wonderful, though I must admit, my urge to see you and Lila grows by the minute. When will you come to visit me?”

“Very soon, actually. I’m afraid that you and I need to have a talk about our daughter.” About thirty minutes and a lot of cursing later, Ciro Rossi was now completely up to date on the actions of their daughter.

“I wish to say that I cannot believe Lila would do such things, but I can’t help remembering that boy, Roberto, from two years ago.”

Yes, Greta remembered him well. He had been a very popular boy at Lila’s school; handsome, rich, from a very well connected family, and from what she understood, completely dedicated to his boyfriend. She hadn’t paid him much attention until Lila came home crying that Roberto had attempted to sexually assault her. Greta and Ciro had refused to let such a thing go unchecked and went to the police to report him. During the weeks to follow, Roberto was put through hell; bullied at school, he was beaten up a few times, his boyfriend broke up with him, and his name slandered all over Venice. They had believed what happened to the boy to be justified… until proof was provided that he was nowhere near Lila when she claimed to have been assaulted. 

She suddenly recanted her story, saying that she must have been mistaken and someone that looked like Roberto assaulted her, but the damage had already been done. The boy and his family moved somewhere far away, and Greta and Ciro were forced to pay restitution to Roberto for ruining his name and reputation. Through her tears, Lila convinced them that it had been an honest mistake and that she hadn’t meant for any of that to happen. It wasn’t long after that, Greta received an offer to be the secretary for the assistant ambassador in Paris. Lila had begged her mother to go with her, claiming that her classmates were now bullying her for what happened to Roberto. Wanting to protect their daughter, they agreed.

Looking back on it now, and noticing the similarities between Roberto and Adrien, both Greta and Ciro were disappointed in themselves for not seeing the truth. Which likely was that Lila had tried to get close to Roberto for his money and connections, and when he turned her down, she lied about the assault to ruin his life, much like she had done to Marinette. And when it came out that she had lied about Roberto, her classmates had turned on her. So when she got the chance to start somewhere new, with people who didn’t know about her lies, she took it. Not caring if she harmed anyone at her new school while repeating old habits. But they were not about to let Lila do the same thing to Adrien or Marinette. Once Greta told her husband her plan, he was all for it and began preparing things on his end. By the time Lila was done being sick, her entire life would have turned upside down.

~oOo~

It took a lot more effort than Greta had expected to hide her intentions for the nine days it took for Lila to get over her case of strep throat, but she had been making good use of that time. 

She had contacted Gabriel Agreste’s secretary and asked about any contracts that may have been signed. When she told her she hadn’t signed any contract and that her daughter would no longer be modelling, the woman had no choice but to accept this and inform M. Agreste of this development. The woman also informed Greta that such a breach of contract would result in Lila being blacklisted from the fashion industry. She agreed and promised that she would inform her daughter of this once she was better.

Greta then looked into Lila’s savings and trust fund, of which she had control of since Lila was still a minor. She drained the accounts to pay restitutions to Marinette for bullying and slander, Adrien for sexual harassment; and then sent the rest of it to Roberto, along with a message that she was now completely aware of the type of person her daughter was and would be adequately punished very soon.

And to keep too much suspicion off of her, Greta began mentioning to Lila how her father desperately wanted to see her after she got better, so after the doctor gave her a clean bill of health, they would be going to Venice to see him. Now that she was watching, Greta saw the twinge of uncertainty at the mention of Venice, but quickly covered it with false excitement for going back to visit her father.

As the day grew closer that they would be heading to Italy, Greta also noticed Lila glaring at her phone with utter malice. She might not have known what was going on if Lila’s classmate, Alya, wasn’t keeping her up-to-date on what Lila was telling them. Her daughter was attempting to tell the class that she was going to be going on a trip with a famous singer after she was better, but her classmates were doing as Greta asked and treating the lies as if they meant nothing. When she accused Marinette of calling her a liar while she was sick and couldn’t defend herself, the class stopped responding. 

One message that was forwarded to Greta nearly had her abandoning her plan and confronting her daughter at that moment. It was a message that Lila had sent to Marinette, who had shared it with Alya, who then forwarded it to Greta. It read:

You fugly, no talent bitch! You think I don’t know what you’re doing? Those stupid sheep were eating up every single one of my lies before I got sick, and now they won’t even talk to me! Just you wait. When I get back to school, I’m going to ruin you in every way imaginable. No one will want to be your friend. By the time I’m done with you, I hope you kill yourself. Maybe I’ll convince someone that you tried to kill me and they’ll kill you for me. Either way, you’re dead. And even if you show someone these messages, no one will believe you over me. 

Greta forwarded the message to Ciro as well. He called her right away to discuss other accommodations that they would be making for Lila in the coming days. There was something seriously wrong with their daughter, and they refused to turn a blind eye to what was happening.

When the day finally came that Lila was better and they were heading to Venice, Greta instructed Lila not to pack her more expensive clothes as she would not want to lose them if their baggage got lost. What her daughter didn’t know was that Greta was planning on selling all of her designer clothes, jewelry, her electronics, and everything else to continue paying restitutions to Marinette, Adrien, and Roberto. And it wasn’t like she would need them soon, anyway.

The plane ride was a bit nerve racking for Greta, as she worried about giving something away and Lila figuring out her plan; but if she did, it didn’t show. When they landed at Venice Marco Polo Airport, she had to resist her sigh of relief. The plan was almost ready to be put in action. 

When she saw Ciro waiting for them in his dress whites, her heart sped a bit more. The man was, without a doubt, the most handsome man she’d ever met, and was the love of her life. Being away from him for so long was difficult, but what else could they do? Her husband was a Capitano di Vascello of the Italian Navy and had worked very hard to get where he was. Although he was semi-retired now and no longer served on a ship, he had followed his dream and became the Vice Principal for the premier naval academy in Venice, Francesco Morosini Naval Military School. 

He had gone to the school when he was younger and always claimed that it was the best experience he could have ever wished for. That being in that school saved his life. So when he continued into the navy to serve his country, he made it his goal to one day become the Principal of the school that saved him, so that he could do the same for other students. And now, they would be doing the same for Lila.

Greta and Ciro had thought of admitting Lila to Francesco Morosini when she came of age, but quickly realized that she was not the Navy type and did not want to force her into it. That choice was no longer Lila’s and she would be staying at the military school where it was Ciro’s job, not only as a father, but as an administrator of the school, to keep a close eye on any problem children.

Ciro embraced Greta and then Lila before taking their bags and walking them to his car. Lila was talking at length to her father about all her friends at school, all the happenings in Paris, and even mentioned her boyfriend, Adrien Agreste.

“You would like him, Papa. He’s a model, a gentleman, and his father is the designer, Gabriel Agreste. And he treats me like a princess!” Lila gushed as she showed her father a picture of Lila kissing the blonde boy’s cheek. Greta had seen that picture and had even asked Adrien about it while they had spoken in M. Damocles office. Lila had apparently kissed him without permission when she took that picture, and then sent it to every girl in Adrien’s contact list to make it seem like they were dating. 

Ciro played along, asking questions about her classes, Adrien, the akuma situation that he had heard about over the news, and other things to keep Lila from growing suspicious. Sure enough, she prattled on through the entire car and ferry ride to Venice. Only seeming to look around questioning when they arrived at the Naval school, rather than their apartment.

“What are we doing here?” She asked, looking at her father in confusion.

The two parents dropped the act and glared at their daughter in disappointment and anger. “I’m surprised at you, young lady,” Greta started. “Did you really think you could keep lying to us? We. Know. Everything.”

They watched as her olive skin quickly paled. “What do you mean? I didn’t lie, I sw-”

“We know the school never closed,” Ciro interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument or interruption. “We know about you lying to your classmates and teachers about having disabilities and diseases. We know about you changing our contact information on your school records. We know about you bullying and sexually harassing your classmates. We know about the threats you’ve made to that one girl. We know that you’ve been akumatized multiple times. We know the truth about what you really did to Roberto two years ago! WE KNOW EVERYTHING!”

With every word he said, Lila seemed to inch away from her irate parents and shrink into herself. At the same time, they saw the rage and contemplation in her eyes. She was angry at being caught and was already trying to think of a way out of trouble. Not that they would give her a chance to even try.

“But I didn’t li-”

“Lie number one, Ladybug is a useless superhero that let your school get damaged and spent months trying to deakumatize your principal, which is why you were out of school for two months.” Greta interrupted that time, pinning her daughter with a glare that she usually reserved for idiot interns who screwed up important paperwork at the embassy. “I personally spoke to your principal and looked into Ladybug. The school never closed. Ladybug and Chat Noir have always defeated the akumas and restored the damage thanks to their abilities. And you told the school that you and I were off globetrotting to places like Achu.”

Her eyes grew to the size of saucers. She was just beginning to stammer out an excuse when her father spoke over her.

“Lie number two, a girl named Marinette Dupain-Cheng has been bullying you because she is jealous of your relationship with your boyfriend, Adrien Agreste. We have seen the texts that you have sent that girl, the most recent saying,” Ciro pulled out his phone to read off of the text “‘...I’m going to ruin you in every way imaginable. No one will want to be your friend. By the time I’m done with you, I hope you kill yourself…’ Does that sound familiar to you?” 

“I also personally spoke to Adrien after I spoke to Marinette, and found out that not only are you not his girlfriend, but you have been sexually harassing him! You even showed us proof in that picture you took where you kissed him!”

“But that’s not sexual harassment!” Lila shot back at them as her panic grew.

“Any unwelcome sexual advances, requests for sexual favors, and other verbal or physical conduct of a sexual nature constitutes sexual harassment. Your mother and I memorized that when you accused Roberto of assault, which is another thing you lied about! And let me guess, you wanted to use that boy’s popularity and family connections for a leg-up, but he turned down your advances since he was gay. You didn’t take that rejection well, so you told us he assaulted you. Is that what happened?”

“How did you-” Lila interrupted herself that time by slapping her hand over her mouth, quickly realizing that she had confirmed what her father had just said.

“Well, congratulations young lady. You have earned a complete overhaul on your life.” 

“What do you mean?” Lila didn’t want to know, but it seemed like she had no choice but to ask.

“Your modelling contract with Gabriel is done,” Greta told her, noticing her wince since they weren’t supposed to know about that either. “I spoke with his assistant and discovered that you forged my signatures on the contracts to let you model. They were kind enough not to pursue legal action against you, but they have asked that I inform you that you have been blacklisted from the fashion industry, so that career option is completely closed off to you.”

“Your mother educated your friends at school with the truth. They know about all your lies and have kept us apprised of what you have been saying, the rumors you have been attempting to spread about going on a trip with a random music star, and were kind enough to forward that threatening message you sent to that girl, Marinette. They are no longer interested in being your ‘sheep’.”

“Not that you will be returning to that school,” Greta continued. “Your truancy has made that impossible, even if we did want you to stay there to face the consequences of your actions. Which includes paying restitution to the people you’ve hurt.”

“Paying!” Ciro and Greta watched as Lila’s right eye began to twitch as she snapped at them.

“Yes, paying. I’ve already emptied out your savings and trust fund to pay back Marinette, Adrien, and Roberto for what you’ve done to them-”

“You can’t do that! That’s my money!” She screamed, stomping her foot at her mother like a five year old throwing a tantrum.

“Money that you earned illegally modelling after forging my signature. And you are a minor, I am well within my rights to take that money to pay for the damages you have incurred. I will also be selling your laptop, tablet, mobile phone, as well as the clothes and jewelry you left in Paris. Seeing as you won’t be needing them anymore.”

As she said this, Lila clutched her phone and hugged it against her chest. “How am I supposed to talk to anyone without my phone?”

“Pen and paper, and if you need to speak with your mother, there’s my office phone or the payphone in the barracks, where you will be staying.” 

The girl’s eyes grew impossibly wide as she looked at her parents in a panic. They couldn’t mean…

Ciro smiled the smile that he used to greet the families whose children were in need of discipline. “Welcome to Francesco Morosini Naval Military School, where we strive to give children an education that will help them for their future and the world that waits for them.”

~oOo~

There had been a lot of begging, crying, and screaming after that as Lila did everything she could to try and change her parents’ minds. This was a total nightmare for her. Forced to wear a uniform she hated. Surrounded by students, teachers, and her father; all of whom knew that she was a liar. No one gave her the type of attention she craved, but everyone was giving her the overly watchful attention she despised. She couldn’t even enjoy becoming an akuma anymore, as she was far out of Hawkmoth’s reach.

Greta and Ciro had gone out to dinner afterwards in an attempt to de-stress, only to get a call an hour later that Lila had tried to steal a boat and run away from the school. She was put on a 24/7 watch after that, now required to wear a tracking monitor wherever she went and was on bathroom and floor cleaning duty for the foreseeable future.

When Greta returned to Paris, she went about doing exactly as she promised. She sold Lila’s electronics, clothes, and jewelry; only keeping a pair of plastic stud earrings that her grandmother had given her. She met with M. Damocles again to let him know that everything had been taken care of. She contacted the Dupain-Cheng family to let them know that Lila wouldn’t be bothering their daughter again. That was probably the most pleasant thing she did, as they were a lovely family and sent her off with a box of assorted scones, so yummy! When she had them send a box of goodies to her husband in Venice, he called her a few days later and begged her to send more whenever she could.

Lila absolutely hated seeing her father enjoy pastries from the bakery of her rival’s family. That, along with being forced to talk to a psychiatrist three times a week to make her admit that she was a liar and to figure out why she feels the need to lie. All while wearing a horrible uniform and actually having to clean. She was in her own personal hell. How she wished that she had never gotten sick.

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[danielxricciardo]

Hi girl!! I love everything you’ve wrote! Couldn’t say how much I enjoyed reading one shots of F1 drivers! I have to ask if you could do one for Carlos? He and reader are expecting but keeping it secret, Carlos won the race! And he ask if he could hear her through radio, though with some glitch, all other drivers and teams hear Carlos’ radio, he tells her how he’s so happy with the win but more than anything about their little one on the way and now everyone knows the secret of pregnancy because he suddenly slipped it while talking to her on radio👶🏻 I can’t imagine how will other drivers will congratulate him (like Daniel, Max, Landooooo! Seb! And even Kimi!🤣) I think Lando will be overjoyed and will be presenting to be Godfather already Hahahaha!

Summary: Having a baby and everybody finding out

Warnings: fluff

Word count: 1.5k

You realized that you were pregnant after a series of fortunate events that, individually, you did not take as alarm signals.

One evening, Carlos decided to spare you from cooking dinner and ordered your favorite food from your favorite restaurant. You were very excited to eat it, but when the food arrived you were on the verge of throwing up because of the smell. You told Carlos you couldn't eat, so you just ate an apple and went to bed. The next day, after Carlos left for the gym, you couldn't get away from the toilet because if you took a few steps you would feel like throwing up. However, when your boyfriend came home, you didn't feel so sick anymore, but you didn't tell him what happened to you because you didn't want to worry him.

You had a vague idea that you could be pregnant but you wanted to wait until Carlos leaves for France for the Grand Prix.

The day he left you went to the pharmacy and bought two pregnancy tests.

Positive.

You just sat down and cried. You stared at the positive test for several minutes. Honestly, you were so hormonal and conflicted about the timing that you bawled your eyes out. You were both happy and worried. Carlos was busy with his Formula 1 career, you didn't know if it was appropriate to add a child to the dynamics of your life.

But you recovered immediately. You are talking about Carlos, of course, he will be happy to have a child with you. You've been together for four years, you knew you would be together for the rest of your life.

The next day you did another pregnancy test, just in case. Positive, obviously. You went to the pharmacy again, and you took four more tests, to do one every day until Carlos came home.

"Hey, honey. I missed you," says Carlos entering the house.

You didn't even let him take off his shoes. You handed him a gift box in which you put the six pregnancy tests you took.

"Amor, did I forget an anniversary?"

You nod.

"Open it."

You see him take the lid off the box and take out a pregnancy test. Then another one, and another one, until he took them all out. You could see it on his face, he was scared and overwhelmed.

"Seriously?" he asks.

You nod and bite your lip, a few tears run down your face.

"Amor, that's wonderful! Ay Dios Mio! Are we going to be parents?"

You laugh and kiss him long.

"Yes, we will be parents."

You have scheduled an appointment for the next day to confirm the pregnancy and determine how many weeks you are pregnant. It looks like you're 10 weeks pregnant, so that means month 3 of your pregnancy. You couldn't believe that for almost 3 months you didn't realize you were pregnant, but you always had an irregular cycle, so it's not really incomprehensible.

You and Carlos have decided not to announce publicly that you will have a child just yet. For now, you were happy to share the news with your families, wanting to plan a nice way to tell your friends as well.

You know that feeling you get at certain times of the month when you want to cry at every cheesy commercial or could explode with anger at the drop of a hat? Pregnancy is like that sometimes, except 10 times more intense. With your new hormones raging, and more stress in your life than ever before, what with getting a nursery together and preparing to welcome the precious baby into the world and all, emotions are high. Tempers are bound to flare.

That is how you felt sitting in the paddock with Carlos who was preparing for the race. He was starting from P3 so he was pretty excited and nervous for the race. He saw your state, he knew you too well.

"Ay, mi Amor, come here," he said and hugged you to calm your nerves. "Don't worry, ok? It's an easy race, I'm gonna win it for you and the little bean, ok?"

You giggle at the sound of Carlos's nickname for the baby. You kiss him and smile.

"You know I don't really care about winning. Just come back to us. Safe." you say, your voice barely a whisper, not wanting anyone around you to hear your discussion.

"Si, pequeña. Always."

Sure, you were always concerned when he was racing. But especially now when your hormones were driving you insane and you were growing another person in your body. But you trusted him. With all of your heart. If he said he will come back to you, he will.

It took you a few moments to understand what was happening. Carlos Oñoro was hugging you, yelling 'He won!' and you looked at the screens in front of you. He did. Carlos Sainz was the winner in Monza! He kept his word, he won for you and your child.

"Hey, Y/N!" you hear your name being called by Riccardo Adami, the race engineer of Carlos. "The winner wants to talk to you."

You giggle and go to him. 'The winner'... Has a nice ring to it.

"Hey, baby! Congratulations!" you say excitedly over the radio.

"Si, mi amor! I told you I'm gonna win for our baby! I love you both so much!"

What you didn't know was that there was a glitch over the radio and every driver heard Carlos talking about 'your baby'.

"Aaa, guys? Why am I hearing Carlos over the radio talking about a baby?" Charles asked his race engineer.

"There's a glitch. Come to the garage."

"A baby?!" Lando yells into the radio, making his race engineer flinch. "Was that Carlos saying he is going to have a baby? Oh my God!"

You were waiting for Carlos to come out of his car, being absolutely clueless about the hysteria you two just caused. Carlos was just about to get his helmet out when all the drivers came to you two, yelling congratulations to you both. You looked at Carlos. Did he tell someone about your pregnancy? Did you give it away?

"Uh, thank you but how did you find out?" Carlos asked, clueless as you.

"We heard it over the radio," Kimi responds giving you a genuine smile.

"This is not how I wanted you guys to find out," Carlos said and put an arm over your shoulders, kissing your head. "But, yeah, it is true, we are having a baby."

"Mate, you're having a baby! That is so crazy! You are basically a baby!" Daniel says and hugged you both.

"And who is the godfather?" Lando asked and everyone laughed.

"We just found out two weeks ago, there are still five months to think about it," you say and bit your lip and Lando pouts. "You'll be considered, Lando."

After three months you decided to have a gender reveal for your family and friends. You could have had it a lot sooner but you wanted to be at an appropriate time for everyone. All the drivers came, as well as your family and Carlos's too. You made everyone wear a piece of clothing according to the gender they think your baby is. You were surprised to see the majority of the people being team boy, but as Lewis said 'They just want to make sure the third generations of Sainz is coming in Formula 1' and you know he was right.

"Look, listen to me, I have three kids, ok? I know, for a fact, by the way you are carrying that it is a girl!" Sebastian said and you laughed. He was wearing his pink T-shirt with pride, being 100% sure he is right.

He was.

You were having a girl and you could swear that Carlos cried a little when he saw the pink confetti. He hugged you for a few minutes, being still in shock.

"Una niña pequeña..." he whispered in your ear. "I am not ready."

You laughed and kissed him.

"You are gonna be the best dad ever, don't worry."

"No, I know that. I am not ready for her to date! And she'll go to university, no..."

"Carlos, she is not even been born yet! You have plenty of time to spend with her."

"Hi, guys, sorry to interrupt!" Lando appears near the two of you, making you break apart from your hug. "Did you think about the godfather or... or this is not a good time to ask?"

Everyone heard him and started laughing.

"Mate, remember the bag I gave you when you arrived?" Carlos asked him and Lando nodded. "You can look inside the bag now."

Lando got the bag and inside was a white romper saying 'Will you be my godfather?'

Lando looked at the romper with tears in his eyes.

"Well, if you insist..."

[celeste-clearwater-06]

Hello! I was wondering if you could please write something about how the Fellowship (+ Thorin?) Would help a s/o who's Disabled and Chronically ill. Like she has a lot of symptoms like chronic pain, chronic fatigue, difficulty sleeping, difficulty breathing at times, difficulty walking at times, higher sensitivity to the cold, difficulty talking at times, and anxiety, depression and executive dysfunction?

I've been really struggling with my chronic illnesses lately, namely my Autism, Anxiety, Sleep Apnea, a really bad Overbite, Raynaud's Syndrome, Asthma, etc, so I'd really appreciate an Imagine like this. I have a really weird disorder where one of my legs is longer than the other, and it's been causing me a lot of pain and difficulty walking lately, and people have been bullying me for it a lot too, so I could really use a Comfort Imagine right now. Thanks so much hun!!

It's no problem! I'm glad I can provide some comfort!! For each character, I'll use a specific struggling area, to make it a bit easier!! I hope I got these accurate enough, and of there are any mistakes, feel free to point them out!! You are strong, beautiful and so, so amazing!! Keep being you!! ❤❤

Help (The Fellowship// Thorin x Fem!Reader)

Aragorn (Autism)

Aragorn has known you for a long time, so helping with your autism is not new for him

He's particularly experienced in reading your emotions and meeting your needs, whether it's helping you out of stressful situations or calming you down, he's there 🥺

If there are large and boisterous gatherings in Rivendell, its almost guaranteed that you can become over-stimulated quickly, and Aragorn immediately senses this (spidey senses õoõ)

He's fast to find your hand and give it a gentle squeeze of reassurance

If that doesn't seem to help, he'll instantly stop what he's doing and take you out of the room

If you're someone who prefers lots of space and little physical contact, he is 100% respectful of this and asks if you'll let him touch or hug you (very much gentleman 😌)

If ever you're confronted by someone of importance, Aragorn is right by your side to ease some of the tension

Sometimes there are things you find difficult to say or get out of your system

The king seems to know exactly what it is and will help you out by saying it or asking you simple questions that you can easily answer

And he always reminds you, no matter WHAT

YOU ARE NOT STUPID 😤😡

You may struggle with some parts of your life, but every day, he's constantly telling you that you're very intelligent and kind

His patience is unending and he'll never let you think down on yourself

Overall, Aragorn is always someone and reminding you that it's all going to be okay ❤❤

Legolas (Anxiety)

Most nights, Legolas keeps watch (since elves don't require much sleep) and notices that you jolt awake out of the random

Now, most of the Fellowship notices that you're usually awake and ready to go before anyone else

But Legolas is really the one to address you first

You were a bit nervous to explain, since you didn't want to worry him or the great of the fellowship, amount the other disadvantages you have

He gently encouraged you, and finally, you explained to him your sleep apnea

Yeah, he was very concerned

I mean, his blue eyes widened with terror when you told him that you could basically die in your sleep if you weren't attentive enough 🙃

Legolas, from now on, sleeps directly next to you, or keeps extra careful watch over you at night

Because he could NEVER see his precious mortal friend become injured... Or worse 🥺🥺❤

The other members had noticed a change in his behaviors towards you as well...

Gimli teased him whenever he caught Legolas giving you some extra lembas bread or offered to carry you 👉👈

You really tried to assure Legolas that it wasn't a big deal when you were awake, since you're aware of your breathing situation

But still 😤

Legolas will always bring you comfort and take great care of you, and that will NEVER CHANGE

Because he loves you very much ❤🦋

Frodo (Anxiety)

Frodo is familiar with the feeling of great anxiety, seeing he had a stress-free life while living in the Shire and suddenly was forced to carry a piece of jewelry all the way to giant ass volcano

It's easy for you two to comfort each other and seek refuge in thoughts and feelings ❤

He's not super comfortable with the thought of you having a panic attack though...

Only because he's never had one

It starts to give him a panic attack whenever you have one around him the first time 😳-

Any time you begin to breathe heavy or hyperventilate, halfling boy is hot at your heels, rubbing your back and reminding you to breathe gently

(So many hugs, if you're up for it)

After you calm down, he's constantly checking on you, asking if you need anything etc.

Really, he just wants to know if he can help 🥺

And even with the weight and stress of carrying the ring, Frodo manages to cheer you up somehow

Samwise (Asthma)

Sam has never had to deal with asthma once in his life

He's very nervous when the subject is brought, afraid it might trigger something inside of you 🥺👉👈

But you just chuckle, assure him that it's alright, and you have ways of keeping it under control

And now, he wants to know everything about it, just to have the awareness in case something happens

Sam just wants to protect you forever, and this was a great way for him to start

He constantly reminds Aragorn that you'll need breathing breaks and will convince Gandalf to let you ride on his horse

He'll scold Pip and Merry if they are trying to drag you around and be silly, because as he says

"You'll rouse him/her/them up! We can't have Y/N gettin injured!" 🤨😠

Sam is MOM

As always, he's very kind and always makes sure your needs are met ❤🥺

Pippin and Merry (Raynaud's Syndrome)

Very confused halfings 🤔

Also extremely concerned!

You were eating one of the lesser pleasurable nights

It was cold and rainy, and a fire couldn't be started, not to mention the quiet arguments of Aragorn and Gandalf in the nearby woods

And Pip's eyes widened when he saw the tips of your petite fingers begin to pale upon hearing Aragorn mention Orcs

"What's wrong with your hands?!" He squeaked, pointing towards your now white-colored fingertips

You hadn't even noticed, nor felt, considering they were numb anyways

Merry looked over his cousin's shoulder and his eyes also widened, not with fright, but wonder

They were both fascinated with your condition, convinced that you were casting some spell Gandalf showed you

Although you reassured them it was just an extremely frustrating inconvenience that you had, among other things

So from then on, the disastrobus duo did their best to keep you out of the cold (and stressful situations!!)

As a distraction, the pair will tell you great stories of the shire, doing little dances and skits that always cheer you up 🥴

Sometimes, they can be a little rambunctious though...

Merry will pick up on this fact quickly, and nudge Pippin to get him to calm down

Even though it may not feel the best

They find your syndrome absolutely fascinating!! 🤔🤔

All in all, these two are always up for keeping your beautiful smile on your face and your spirits high!! ❤🌺

Boromir (Depression)

Throughout the journey, Boromir has always found an easy way to make you smile

After all, he himself has a fascinating way of brightening anyone's spirits

Yours included ❤

Boromir may not have great stories from The Shire, like Pip and Merry, but he sure has a lot of positive things to say

He'll often suggest sparring with the two troublemaking halflings, just so you can see him goof up and get knocked over 🥺

If the nights become cold and weary, he'll give you a warm hug or a nudge on the shoulder

And a few words of helpful encouragement along the lines of;

"Don't fret Y/N. You have more strength than you'll ever know."

"Let our spirits never dampen! We've come this far!" 😊

He's also an incredible listener

Boromir wants to hear what you have to say if you ever need to rant or get something off of your chest

And don't think for a second that he would ever judge you 😤

Son of Gondor sees past all of your insecurities and knows you for your beautiful, amazing self ❤❤

Gimli (Walking disadvantages)

As you travel across great plains and mountains, your limp doesn't go unnoticed by Gimli

It may take him a while to open up about it, since he's afraid he might offend you in some way

And once he asks you, you inform him that it's a difficulty that unfortunately cannot be changed any time soon

And where you come from, lots of people tease and bully you about it

He did NOT handle it well 😳

"wHAT BLUBBERING DULL-MINDED PIGNUTS-" 🤬

Although this Dwarf is short and a bit slow at times

He's fascinatingly strong 😳

And so, he makes it his duty to be your designated carrier 🥺

At first, your a tad skeptical...

I mean, he's only around 4 feet tall...

BUT HAVE YOU SEEN HIM THROW THAT HUGE AX AROUND?!

Gimli will happily carry you great distances when you need a break, and even longer

(Sometimes it's just to show off around the others-)

"Gimli, are you sure you don't want a break?"

"Aye lass! The strength of Dwarves is unending!" 😌

*struggling to breathe*

11/10, fantastic dwarf, will never let you down!!

Thorin (Executive Dysfunction)

Another Dwarf??

Absolutely

Thorin himself has trouble keeping composure with his time management (and sense of direction 🙄)

This means that he'll have an undying amount of patience for you and you only

There's just something about you that he fond of, and it fills in that little sassy, brooding place in his heart

Can also relate to you whenever you grow frustrated at the setback of your journey or lack of sleep

Is 100% willing to help you find your lost belongings (and once again, ONLY YOU)

Thorin will literally make the whole traveling party stop so that you can put something in your bag and make sure that you put it somewhere you'll remember

Always happy to give you extra gentle reminders of keeping your pack closed

The company is utterly SHOCKED with how he treats you

I mean, this man has always been extremely stubborn and hard headed

But when you show up, it's another person he can easily relate and share frustrations with

Also a master at organization?!? 🤔

The one thing he could do successfully was organizing the damn journey and traveling company, so ofc he's gonna be good at that 😂

Yeah, Thorin definitely has a soft spot for you

King under the mountain will never run out of patience and kindness for you 😌💙

Sorry these took so long!! I hope you like them!! ❤❤

[taestefully-in-luv]

The Island | KTH (Four)

Summary: You’re just two strangers waking up in a room on a lonely island where a company in the business of love has placed you. They believe that thanks to their in depth research you two are destined soulmates. What happens when your ‘soulmate’ and you want nothing to do with each other but falling in love is the only way to leave?

Pairing: Taehyung x Female reader

Genre: strangers to lovers, very slight enemies to lovers, soulmates au, roommate au, slow burn, fluff, smut, angst, slight crack, and drama.

Word Count: 11k

Warnings: swearing, sexual tension (?) implied sex

Notes: this is not a reflection of Taehyung’s art! Just saying lol But anyway, hope you guys like this chapter. Tae and oc sure have a lot of moments huh. let me know if you want to be added to the taglist, or send an ask if just want to chat about the stories!:)

Taglist: @ggukkieland @707sblog @peacedreamer14 @dopedreamfireparty @everythingnamjoon @taebae19 @typicalgenzworld @mooniyooni @getmemyfries @helenazbmrskai @justinetingball @jpeachytaev

© taestefully-in-luv

Previous --- Next

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Month 4

“What the fuck is that?” You point accusingly towards the paper Taehyung is excitedly holding up.

“What do you mean,” he grins. “It’s you!”

“…throw it away.”

“What?! No! I worked hard on this!”

“I look like a god damn frog.”

“In the painting or in real life becau—"

“THE PAINTING!” You leap towards Taehyung and reach for his atrocious artwork. Can he even call this disaster art? No offense, no actually, full offense but its ugly as hell. Taehyung lifts it high above his head.

“Listen, listen…don’t you think this hurts my feelings a little y/n? I worked hard on th—”

“I swear to God Taehyung…if you don’t burn this—"

“OKAY OKAY! No need to put out threats!” he pouts almost theatrically. You eye him up and down, waiting for him to make a move towards a trashcan but he just stands here.

“Well? Go throw it away.”

“No.”

“No?”

“Yeah, no.”

You close your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose, “What do you mean no?”

Taehyung narrows his eyes at you and laughs under his breath as he steps closer to you.

“First of all, you don’t tell me what to do. I prefer if it’s the other way around.” He smirks, “And second, I am still going to keep it. For the memories.”

You chew on your lips for a few moments, letting his words sink in. But for the memories?

“For the memories? Why would you want to remember any of this?”

Taehyung frowns at your words, he looks genuinely offended.

“I might not like our situation but…”

“But what?”

“Fuck, don’t make me say it.” He says while turning red. “You know, I still want to make good memories with like, you.” He admits softly.

You finally give in, gently reaching for the awful artwork. Don’t get it wrong, Taehyung’s art is usually so beautiful. He does landscapes and abstract pieces and they absolutely blow you away. But his portraits of people? Disgusting.

“Fine…” You smile down at the painting in your hands then look back at him, “But if I see this hung up anywhere I am burning it myself.” You smirk. “And I will take great pleasure in that.”

“Oooooh please tell me more about your pleasures.” Taehyung wiggles his brows at you.

“You’re the worst.” you smile, “Anyway, do we have a deal?” you stick out your hand for him to shake.

“Deal!” Taehyung cheeses, slapping your hand down and going in for a quick hug instead. You’re surprised to say the least, you kind of guessed Taehyung was the affectionate type but you didn’t expect to be on the receiving end of it. “I’ll be in my art room most the day. Movie night though?”

“Yes, movie night.” you oblige.

“Yay.” He chirps happily, skipping off to his art room down the hall. You can’t help but smile as he disappears from your sight.

But then your heart pinches in your chest. You want to feel happy. Are you just ungrateful? You should be happy. Taehyung is finally being himself around you and you finally feel like you aren’t as alone. But it’s all a façade technically…he’s got no one else, just like you have no one else. In the real world…if you two met would you become friends like this? Or is this all forced? Is your entire friendship fake? You feel your heart sink to the bottom of your stomach, you hate these thoughts.

He’s so different than you thought he would be…he’s lighthearted, he’s funny, he’s silly, he’s talented, he’s human. And don’t even get started on flirty Taehyung…You really thought he was some closed off asshole but as time goes on and he becomes more and more comfortable you see the real him, and you really enjoy it. And you hate that you enjoy it. What are you like? Are you still a brat? Does he still think that? You chuckle to yourself, he probably does. Has he grown so comfortable with you that he’s not as angry about being stuck here with you? No, you imagine he’s still really upset about this whole thing. He just doesn’t voice it to you as much anymore. Maybe he’s avoiding the subject. You can understand why. It’s awkward. This place wants to get you two together but neither of you are interested in the other romantically. You just don’t see it happening.

~~~~~

Taehyung is just relaxing in his room on the verge of a glorious nap, he is finally dozing off, eyes slowly closing when his head snaps up in reaction to a loud crash coming from downstairs. Now what the hell could that be? Panicked, he rushes to his feet. He flies down the stairs in record time trying to find the source of the loud bang. He stands in the living room, glancing around the area for any sign of you. Are you okay? Where are you? Shit. Frustrated, he runs his fingers through his hair and as calmly as possible calls out for you. But nothing. Fuck. Your name slips past his lips in growing panic.

He decides he is going to charge each room in search for you, when he reaches the door to his art studio. He can hear muffled words on the other side of the door.

“Shit. Damn. Fuck.”

He instantly roll his eyes to the back of his head, literally so far back all that’s seen is the white of his eyes.

“Such foul language for such a pretty mouth.” He whispers to himself, slowly creeping the door open, exposing a distracted and distraught you.

“Motherfucker!” you huff, your hands on your hips, eyeing the mess you made. God damn did you make a fucking mess. On the floor is a canvas, brushes scattered and a rainbow of colors splattered all around.

“What. Are. You. Doing.”

Your head whips in his direction, your face turning many shades of reds. He stands at the doorway making his presence known, looking at you expectantly, judgement in his eyes. At least he hopes you can see the judgement in his eyes. Because he is definitely judging like hella hard.

You continue to stand here, your blush deepening. He is too frustrated to find it anything but annoying. You begin to stutter out words he can’t make out. You are trying your best, that much is obvious. You’re trying to explain yourself but he can tell you’re only becoming more and more flustered at the situation. He is sure his annoyed expression doesn’t help your ability to speak. Whoops.

“I-I was…well, you said, well remember you said…” You try. You really try. He almost wants to laugh, but not quite.

“I-I said? I said what?” He keeps his stoic demeanor intact, just stressing you further. He’s almost having fun with this. Almost.

“Well, Taehyung…listen,” you try again. “You said,”

“I said?”

Your eyes scan the room as if there’s something here that will help you.

“Words y/n. I need you to use your words.” He demands, maybe having a little fun stressing you out. He sees your blush become such a deep shade of red that even he feels embarrassed.

Finally, you releases a long breath and words begin spilling out of your mouth.

“You said you wanted to keep that frog picture—“

“Your portrait, you mean.”

“Yes, yes whatever. Anyway, you wanted to keep it for the memories, right? You…you…you’re sentimental like that or whatever.” You pause to take a breath. “And and…”

He raises a brow at you, taking a few steps forward, mindful of the mess you made.

“And?”

You raise your head to look into his eyes. You’re staring so intensely that he wonders where you got this wave of confidence from. He stares back just as seriously. Your eyes are the same as usual, dark, plain, boring. For the most part.

“And…I decided that maybe, that maybe I want to…paint you…too?” you step forward. “You know, for the memories.” You tear your eyes away from him. But he sort of wishes you didn’t.

His brows pinch together at your little idea. You want to paint him ? He studies your face seeing if maybe there’s anything else. You look tense under his gaze, he admits that makes him feel kind of good. Is that mean? You look so incredibly shy, and it is so fucking...something, he doesn’t know what but it’s something. He continues to observe you and your shy expressions.

He looks down at you and breaks into his best shit eating grin, his hand reaches down to ruffle your hair.

“Yes!” he lightly chuckles, “Let’s make lots of memories!”

It looks like you’re in a daze, his reaction catching you off guard, he guesses. Taking a moment to collect yourself, you look up into his eyes again.

“Yeah, lots of ‘em.” your smile slowly begins to fade, “We won’t be here forever, so we have to leave with lots of memories.” you mutter.

Taehyung feels himself go soft at your words.

“y/n…” he slides his fingers down to cup the back of your head, fingers gently massaging your scalp. “When this is all over…we can still be in contact, you know?” Your eyes travel to the floor, eyeing the mess you made. He’s still getting over that.

“I know…but Taehyung, I still feel like I don’t even know basic things about you! Like what even is your favorite, uh, I don’t know, animal? I can’t tell you how long I have been wondering that and—”

“Then let’s have a whole night dedicated to that. Let’s drink some wine, paint some pictures and learn everything there is to know!” he moves his hand forward, his fingers playing at the ends of your hair, “Like, what shampoo did they give you because your hair is soft as fuck.”

You give him an unimpressed look,

“I know you steal my shampoo sometimes, I’m not dumb.”

“Don’t know what you are talking about.” He cheeses.

“But okay,” you grin at him, “Let’s do that.”

“I love Koalas and sloths!” You’re laid out on your stomach, swinging your legs above you while sipping on your red wine.

“You can’t choose two!”

“I just did.”

“Fine. Mine is…drum roll…its…” he pats the floor repeatedly.

“Oh come on! Tell me! I’ve been dying to know!”

“Its…lion!” he lays next to you, resting on his side. He eyes the painting you are working on. It’s supposed to be him…supposed to be.

“I like lions too.” You add more color to the background of the canvas. He can hear the smile in your voice.

“Sheesh…and you think I am bad at drawing people…”

“Stop being a hater!”

“ME?” he stares at you incredulously.

You and Taehyung are a few glasses of wine in already. He can tell its hitting you harder than its hitting him, you’re extra talkative and all giggly. He’s painted a picture of the beach while you’ve worked on a portrait of him, it’s amusing to say the least—the portrait. Pretty quickly glasses turned into bottles. Bottle number 3 has been opened and now he is also talkative and all giggly. He’s a giggly lil thang when he’s drunk, and he is drunk.

“Okay,” he sits up, sitting on his legs. “First impression of me, go!” he laughs, for literally no reason.

“I thought you kidnapped me.” You state plainly, “So like, a creepy person.”

His jaw drops.

“I’m offended!” He lays his hand over his heart. “You thought I was creepy?! And there I was thinking you were just some hot chick I hooked up!” Yes, he called you hot to your face. He is drunk, he is allowed to do that. Yeehaw.

“Okay to be fair, that thought crossed my mind too.”

“That I was some hot chick you hooked up with?”

“I never said hot.”

“But you were thinking it, right right?” he wiggles his eyebrows in the most exaggerated way.

You smirk before chugging back the rest of your wine, reaching for a new bottle.

“Okay, maybe I thought it.” You admit, your sly smile growing.

“Want me to open it?” he gestures towards the wine bottle.

“Please.”

He reaches for the bottle of wine, his hands brushing against yours. He hates that he feels a quiet fire in his insides when he touches you. He hates how when his skin makes contact with your skin there is an automatic heat that lights up and warms him, burns him almost.

“Do you have someone? That you like?” You slur out, curious about Taehyung’s love life.

“…Yes.” Taehyung admits softly.

“I am what they call a ‘Dilf’” Jin states confidently. The rest of the boys share a look of confusion.

“You literally aren’t a dad?” Jimin looks at Jin with a puzzled smile.

“But you can’t tell me I am not a ‘dilf’ though.”

“Okay Jin, you’re a dilf.” Namjoon rolls his eyes, going back to his book.

“I wanna be a dilf too.” Jungkook whines and Taehyung nods his head in agreement. Jin shakes his fingers at the boys and speaks up.

“You have to earn the title.”

“Yeah, by being a dad.” Jimin deadpans.

“Let the man have his dreams.” Yoongi says before putting his ear bud back in his ear and nodding along to whatever song is playing.

“My dream is to finish this assignment.” Hobi groans into his pile of papers on the table.

“This is your fault for going back to school for your masters!” Taehyung teases. He has just recently dropped out of school and he is loving it. He watches as his friend works night after night on paper after paper and Taehyung no longer has to worry about things like that. He can just focus on the music.

“Are you guys using this chair?” Taehyung hears a sweet voice cut off all their chatter. He looks up to see this gorgeous girl with light brown hair that reaches her waist and eyes as bright as the sun.

“Uh, no.” Taehyung clears his throat, “You can take it.”

“Thanks.” She smiles at Taehyung and then at the rest of the boys before she’s dragging the chair to the table next to them.

“Holy shit.” Taehyung whispers to Jungkook, “She’s so pretty.”

“That’s Hana.” Jungkook looks over his shoulder at Hana and her friends. “I have a class with her.”

“Bro, introduce me!” Taehyung begs. “You literally owe me.”

“From what?!”

“I let you fuck that one chick like 2 years ago even though I saw her first.”

“Oh? You let me? Really?” Jungkook rolls his eyes. “But anyway, sure. I’ll introduce you.” He says nonchalantly, picking up his drinking and taking a sip.

“Taehyung?” you wave your hand in front of his blank face. “Taehyung?” “Huh? Yeah?” he starts snapping out of his memories, “what’s up? What did you say?”

“I asked her name.” you smile awkwardly, “The girl you like.”

“Hana.” He quietly clears his throat, “What about you? Do you have someone?”

“After my ex? I am staying away from men for a while.” You laugh, “Like, can you blame me?”

Taehyung can’t help by frown at your words.

“Don’t close yourself off…” Taehyung whispers to you. “You’re too pretty for that.” He slurs out and you blink at him repeatedly.

“I’m pretty?”

Taehyung scoffs and rolls his eyes playfully.

“Like you didn’t know.”

Hours pass you two by, more wine has been drank and you two are giggling like school children. Taehyung is folded over, laughing a storm as you do your best impression of a dolphin. You can’t help but fall over and laugh your head off as well, the alcohol obviously has made you two crazy.

Taehyung finally calms down and looks at you with soft eyes, “So, what’s your biggest fear?” he asks, leaning forward.

“No!” you laugh. Fucking laugh. “Listen, we can go back to our serious convos another day…right now I wanna…” you slur your last words, “wanna talk about fun stuff.” you give him the most sleazy wink he’s ever seen. It kind of works for him though.

“Okay.” He agrees easily, “Tell me the story about how you lost your virginity? Don’t leave anything out”

Your eyebrows shoot up, “Wanna know the dirty details huh?” you part your lips and smile.

“Dirty? I bet it was as vanilla as vanilla gets.”

You frown at his words, “I’m not vanilla. I’m fun, I swear.” you pout.

“I didn’t mean it as boring babe. I just mean you probably lost it to like your high school sweetheart, your first love, blah blah blah. The romantic shit.” You exhale a short breath…babe? You like the new friendly nickname, you admit.

“Actually it’s the opposite.”

“The opposite?”

“First year of college. Random guy from a bar. Total one night stand type of situation. I didn’t even tell him it was my first time. I think he probably just thought I was really inexperienced. “ You laugh to yourself. Sounds like a situation you might regret but there is no bitterness in your tone.

“Oh wow. y/n the cry baby can do one night stands?” he teases.

“I’m full of surprises you know.” The glint in your eye tells him he’s going to find out eventually.

“Well then what are the dirty details?” he pries further, leaning into your space again.

“Hmm, don’t think I am drunk enough for that.”

“Oh, I can grab another bottle of wine.” He teases, “But fine.”

“About your comment about me being vanilla…” you begin but Taehyung is cutting you off with the shake of his head.

“I didn’t mean it bad—”

“Are you into vanilla sex?”

Taehyung’s eyebrows crawl to the top of his forehead and his mouth falls open.

“Why are you asking that?” he breathes out, his eyes darkening.

“They paired us together, you know? We probably have more in common than you think…my guess that means sex too.”

“I know we have that in common.” He smirks, “I’m guessing you never looked in the other room?” he quirks a brow at you. “You might find it interesting.”

“The other room?” you tilt your head to the side, “Oh? The one upstairs next to your bathroom? Yeah, I stuck my head in there once…I saw it’s just another bedroom.”

“Is it really just another bedroom though? You didn’t have a look around?” his sly smile grows on his stupidly handsome face. “Like I said…you might find it interesting.”

“What are you talking about?” you slur, “Why would I…?”

Taehyung rises to his feet, walks towards you and leans down until he’s softly gripping your arm and pulling you up.

“Let’s go explore.” He chuckles, “I want you to see the room.” He’s guiding you out the art room, you two stumbling through the door.

You both begin to make your way upstairs, his hand never leaving your arm as you two walk. You keep bumping into him and he only laughs, squeezing your arm every few moments. You guys walk through the hall until you’re standing outside the bedrooms door.

“Go on.” He looks at you with a smirk, “I want you to explore this bedroom.”

“You’re being weird.” You giggle, opening the door.

And just like you thought, it’s just a bedroom. There’s a large bed in the middle of the room against the wall, and a couple of dressers, a closet, a huge ass mirror and other normal bedroom things.

“And?” You glance at Taehyung.

He looks at you with an amused smile. “Explore.” He commands.

You give him a weird look before walking through the room, your hand slides against the dresser that holds the extra large mirror. You catch your reflection and smile at how drunk you look. Taehyung walks behind you and eyes both of your reflections, he steps close to you and chuckles.

“I like this mirror.” He whispers. “Great view of the bed.”

“Uh yeah?” you look at him through the mirror, “I guess so.”

“Explore the drawers.” His evil grin makes you nervous…you look down at the drawers and open the first one on the left, there’s multiple things inside but you can’t tell what they are. You stick your hand inside and grab the first thing it can find. You pull this object out and bring it closer to your face, your drunken vision making it hard to identify what it is. Then your eyes are expanding and you drop the object in the drawer, the loud thud making you jump.

“What was that?” Taehyung whispers, “Something you know right?”

A dildo. Your eyes scan the rest of the drawer only to see more, along with other toys. You quickly slam the drawer shut and turn around to face Taehyung, who is standing so close behind you.

“What the hell?” you stutter out, turning red.

“That’s not all. Check the closet.” He says quietly, pointing towards the closet. And you listen, you walk forward until you’re standing beside the sliding door. You open it and see various articles of clothing.

Lingerie and outfits. Maid, nurse, etc. You stare at the clothes in disbelief.

“What is all this?” you turn to face Taehyung.

“You tell me.” He says chuckling, “Seems like we like the same stuff.” He shrugs. “Maybe you can,” he walks closer and is touching the maid lingerie, “wear this next you’re cleaning the house.”

He’s teasing you. Your stomach twists and turns, your heart is jumping out of your chest and you feel so fucking warm.

“S-Shut up.” You lean back on the door.

“Oh baby, I think you and I both know who tells who what to do here.” He breathes out, not looking at you as he still plays with the material of more lingerie.

“Taehyung,” you sigh, “The cameras can’t hear you in here.”

“Ah,” he turns to face you, “Right. Should we head back downstairs?”

“Yes.” You slur out, feeling quite dizzy.

Month 5

It’s the bright white screen you know all too well…it has you releasing a shaky breath as you wait for the black letters to eventually appear.

“Hey Taehyung…” you call out for you roommate who is making something to eat in the kitchen. “I think we have an incoming message from our,” You pause, huffing out. “Our little friends.”

“Oh. Oh shit.” You hear Taehyung whine from behind you. “I thought they were finally starting to back off…” he sighs out. “Let’s see what these fuckers want.”

Request:

Skinny dip for 1 hour. Must be within a foot of one another.

Ex-excuse you? Ex-fucking-cuse you? Skinny who what for when what? Your eyes bulge out of your head. This has got to be some sort of joke.

“Hell no!” you yell out, not even sparing Taehyung a glance.

Voice full of panic, Taehyung is quick to bring up the alternative.

“The penalty!” he rushes. “What’s the penalty? We will just do the penalty!”

Penalty:

No power or running water for 3 days.

“No pow���what the fuck?” Taehyung shakes his head, disbelief written all over his face.

“Wait! And no running water? Like, we can’t flush the toilet for 3 days? That’s bullshit!” you drag your hands down your face, “And wont the stuff in our fridge go bad?”

Several long moments pass between you two and not in a cool way. There’s nothing cool about this shit. There’s tension filling the air around you both. Awkward tension.

“Isn’t this too much?” Taehyung finally says, obviously not able to tolerate the silence any longer.

You both exchange worried glances with one another before Taehyung says some shit you don’t like.

“Let’s just do the request.”

Your eyes basically pop out of your head.

“Are you out of your mind—do the requests? How could you say that so easily!” you mumble, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“I feel like it’s the best choice.” He gives his honest answer. “Plus, you’ve never seen a naked man before? We will get over it y/n. Knowing me and you, we will be laughing about it in a couple days.” He finally turns to face you, throwing a wink your way, “You know it’s true.”

You mull over your options and hate that he’s right. You very timidly respond with a quiet ‘okay’ and avoid his eyes. His dark, intimidating eyes.

Your heart is racing, No, that is an understatement; your heart is on the verge of explosion. Your nerves are scattered and pounding from the inside out. You are freaking out. Naked with Taehyung? And he seems cool as a fucking cucumber.

“Let’s meet outside once it’s completely dark out.” You suggest.

“Read my mind.”

“…Of course I did, we’re” you roll your eyes. “Soulmates.” you laugh bitterly to yourself, “anyway, I’ll just see you tonight.”

“So you’re just going to avoid me until tonight?” Taehyung asks, “It’s not like they’re asking us to fuck.” He sways on his feet, “Just keep your eyes on my eyes and we will be fine.”

“Right.” You choke out, “Because it’s that easy.”

“Are you saying it’s impossible not to check me out?” he teases and you feel your cheeks heat up.

“Shut up.”

“Brat.”

Night fall approaches sooner rather than later. You wish it would have taken a million years to appear but nope, here you are. You stand outside with Taehyung in front of you. You’re in an oversized t shirt and loose shorts, keeping it simple since they’re coming off anyway. Taehyung wears his usual sweats and a white tee. You two are standing next to the pool, knowing the time has finally come. After leaving Taehyung earlier this afternoon, you took a much needed nap to clear your head.

“Don’t let your eyes linger.” You mumble, nodding your head in his direction.

“Ha, I was going to say the same thing to you.” He pokes his tongue out. Taehyung looks fucking comfortable as fucking always. Like, this doesn’t bother him in the least.

Luckily, the tension is tolerable. So you decide to make the first move. You begin unbuttoning your shorts—

“Woah! Woah! Woah! Wait!” he yells. His arms flailing, trying to stop you.

You scrunch your nose in annoyance, “What?” you ask, not too pleased since you are just trying to get this over with. If you got told 5 months ago that you would be in a hurry to get naked in front of this guy you would ugly laugh. Yet here you are.

“It’s just-it’s just…we should go at the same time.” Taehyung rushes to say.

“Oh, okay. Pants first, let’s go—”

“No! that’s awkward.” He shakes his head, “shirt first.”

“Okay, okay.” You oblige, “weirdo” You whisper loud enough that he can hear you.

The two of you begin with your tops, you try to focus your eyes elsewhere but they naturally skim the skin of his chest and abdomen as his shirt comes off quickly. Taehyung doesn’t even try to look away as you undress, his dark, intimidating stare causing you to feel chills. You slip off your pink t shirt, exposing your bare torso that is laced with a pretty black bralette. His gaze doesn’t waver.

“Okay, next is our bottoms right?” You gulp. He only nods.

You continue the job on unbuttoning your shorts, letting them fall to your feet exposing your matching black panties. Yes, you wore a sexy matching set on purpose. If he’s going to see you like this why wouldn’t you want to look good? You would do that for anybody. You can feel him eyeing you as he slips off his sweats, leaving him in nothing but a pair of blue briefs.

Finally, you are left in nothing but your underwear. You eye him over, his body is so fucking nice it makes you feel bad for even standing next to him. His briefs are a light blue, leaving little to the imagination. You can literally see the outline of his—you know what. Is he sporting a semi, right now? You do an up and down of your own body when you realize you have more clothes than him!

“Hey this is unfair!” You whisper, covering your chest with your arm. “I have to strip my bra off and you what, just get to watch?”

“Oh? So I am allowed to watch?” he responds playfully. It’s that same teasing tone you’re still trying to get used to.

“Well, you’re obviously going to see…” You grumble, lowering your arm. “Welp, here goes.”

Taehyung swallows rather hard, his eyes trailing your body pretty shamelessly. You reach in front of you, unhooking the bralette and letting the straps fall off your shoulders before letting the whole thing fall to the ground.

“Uh, okay.” Taehyung clears his throat. “Now our underwear.”

“Right.” You say while reaching for the band of your panties, pulling it back a bit and letting it go, the material slapping against your hips. You swear you see his dick move at that.

“Okay.” Taehyung’s breathing is heavier than before, “On 3? 1…2..”

“3!” you shout in unison.

You both begin stripping away your last piece of clothing. You’re the first to be fully undressed. You let your panties drag down leg by leg until they join the pile of clothes at your feet. It’s not that you’re trying to do this in a sexy manner, but if it comes across sexy—then so be it. Taehyung pauses mid action, his eyes scanning your body again. God, you are starting to get really nervous again. His gaze absolutely thrills you, you can admit that. You’d live a life of torture to have him stare at you like this all the time. You see him lick his lips then shake his head. You didn’t just imagine that right?

“Hurry up.” You plead.

Taehyung finally drags off his briefs. By the looks of it he looks mostly hard, as his cock springs free. Holy Fuck. Your last ex—Ben—was not this…blessed. Taehyung has every right to be as cocky as he wants, he’s earned it. His dick is long in length but he also seems to have girth. How is one man blessed this much? You would have to have your hand wrapped around it—or your lips—to really know how thick he is. Jesus fucking Christ, what are you saying? You think your best excuse is that you are dick deprived. Also…how long have you been staring? You will say long enough by the look Taehyung is giving you. It’s that shit eating grin that just screams he is one cocky bastard.

“Okay,” you clear your throat, forcing yourself to look into Taehyung’s eyes. “Let’s get in the pool.”

“You got the timer?” Taehyung chuckles.

“It’s laying on the ledge.” you point at it, walking closer to the pool. “Ready?” you look up at him, waiting for his response.

“You look beautiful by the way.” He says out of nowhere. “I mean, as always.” He winks.

You blush pretty fucking hard at that, you can feel all the heat rush to your cheeks, lighting you on fire.

“Are you-are you ready or what?” you grumble.

“Always.” He grins, reaching for you hand. “Let’s go.”

You two tip toe into the water, pausing every few seconds to get use to the temperature of the water. You stop once the water reaches your collarbones, you walk towards the wall, lean against it and face forward. You turn the timer on and you both exchange a few words but you remain mostly quiet, You don’t think either of you know what to say. Every minute that passes (about 15 to be exact) has your nerves spiking.

You hear Taehyung sigh deeply as he inches closer towards you. Now why would he do that? He inches so close that your shoulders are touching, he sinks a little further into the water and then surprising you, he rests his head on your shoulder. What the fuck is he doing?

“We can have a foot of space between us.” You remind him awkwardly.

Taehyung remains quiet, you only hear his soft breaths.

“Taehyung?”

“You know how hard it is going to be to get the image of you naked out of my head?” He whispers with a chuckle.

“Don’t start using me as masturbation material.” You joke, your eyes looking out at the water. It’s calm and bright from the lights inside the pool.

“Start? You think you haven’t entered my mind before?” he jokes back. At least you think he’s joking.

“Stop playing.” You laugh awkwardly.

Taehyung is quiet again and you can feel the tension that always visits you two starting to build.

“Do you…have you…have you thought about me before?” you manage to slip out, surprising yourself.

“You’re asking if I’ve—”

“If you’ve thought about me when you have ‘alone’ time’ ya know?”

“Do you think I haven’t?” he lifts his head and stares at you. “y/n…I’m a guy. And you’re kind of the only person I see.”

Oh. It’s not like I see anyone else. His last words repeat in your mind. Of course, that makes sense. He’s stuck with you, of course you’ve entered his mind, probably against his will or whatever.

“I see.” You say softly. You step to the side, getting further from him and he frowns.

You two stand here, barely speaking. Maybe another 20-30 minutes pass when Taehyung dramatically huffs out.

“Listen y/n…about earlier.” Right earlier. When you made a fucking fool of yourself. Asking your friend is he has ever jacked off to you before! Before he can continue you slap a finger over his pouting lips, shushing him.

“Do you really think now is the time?”

“We have time to kill—”

“—okay! So let’s talk about something else!” you happily offer.

But you guess Taehyung isn’t having it, he steps closer and rests his head on your shoulder again, his breathing picking up. Why is he breathing so hard?

“Just hear me out, okay?”

You only stare ahead, exhaling deeply. What to do…maybe there’s no harm in hearing him out, right? Oh wait there is harm! The feeling of fucking rejection. Why does it feel like rejection? You don’t know. Why the fuck you care? You don’t know that either. But he’s fucking sulking, like a baby. You thought you were the baby here? You guess he needs to have a turn every now and then…

“fine.”

“You probably,” he sinks in the water just a little deeper, “hate me, right?” you don’t hate him…”Me, your friend, has had dirty thoughts about you, yada yada,” he closes his eyes.

“ wait what—” This is because he has had dirty thoughts about you?

“So about what I said…I’m sorry…”

“Taehyung it’s fine,” you rush to say in embarrassment, “I don’t know why I asked! Seriously, it was stupid. I crossed a li—”

“Wait why did you ask?” That’s when you freeze. Yeah why did you ask?

“Uh…”

“Why?” he stands up straighter, his head tilted towards you.

“I was just curious Taehyung.” you defend. “It’s not that deep.”

“Curious? About me?” he raises he brow, he pauses while thinking over his words. “Like, sexually?” he finishes, caution in his voice.

Fuck. What did you get yourself into?

“Taehyung…I already said it was stupid. Plus,” you decide to be bold again, “Hearing it was only because I’m the only one here or whatever didn’t do great things for my ego.”

“Wait—” you hear him stifle a chuckle. “That’s what you’re mad about?”

“Well…” you drag out the word with a pout. You don’t mean to be such a baby yet here you are.

“Wow! I thought you were mad because I’ve thought about you impurely, not because it wasn’t a good enough reason why…wow.” He laughs! He’s basically laughing at you!

“Well?”

“Oh my God, y/n. You’re joking right? I can’t just say I have the hots for my friend now can I? That’ll just—”

“Do you?” your voice is much smaller and quieter than you anticipated, like it barely escaped. Taehyung stays quiet for a second too long that it makes you ten times as nervous.

“Are you…” Taehyung looks at you with a look on his face you can’t quite place, “I’m naked in a pool with you right now and I am going crazy. Absolutely crazy.” Taehyung sighs out heavily, a frown taking over his face. “You’re ability to be so naïve just…baffles me.” He admits, defeated.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re a beautiful girl y/n. Of course my mind has wandered. It doesn’t mean I—fuck. It doesn’t mean anything deep or anything like that. But yes, being with you and your fanfuckingtastic tits is giving me some trouble.” He says darkly. “And don’t think I haven’t noticed you checking me out either.” He smirks. “We are human.” He finishes.

A long, deafening silence accompanies you both. Its sitting in the water between your bodies. Just lingering, waiting for one of you to break it in half and drown it in this very pool. But no, it remains. And that person won’t be you. But several minutes have passed by and he is still fucking quiet. Maybe you should be the one to say something? You’re about to you swear , but you hear Taehyung grumble something under his breath.

“What’s that?” you say.

“I said, it’s only fair if I ask too.” Ask what? Oh. Wait. That?

“Ask what?” you ask, pretending you don’t know.

“You know what.”

“Nope.” you say, popping the ‘p’.

“y/n.” “I’m not answering that.”

“Come on.” He leans his face towards your neck, his breaths hitting your wet skin. “It’s only fair.”

“Okay.”

“Okay what?” he pushes on. “Come on y/n, have you thought about me when you get yourself off or not?” he asks, his voice really low. How does he get his voice so deep? Fuck, it sends a shiver down your spine.

“Maybe once or twice I have thought about you too.” You admit, feeling a rush of adrenaline as the words leave your mouth.

“Once or twice?” he repeats lowly, “What did you think about?” his words crawl on the side of your neck as they leave his mouth.

“I’m not answering that.”

“I want you to tell me.” He sounds so breathless while being so demanding.

“Nope.”

“You’re no fun.” He chuckles. “Aren’t you curious about what I think about?”

“Not really.” You lie. “Don’t worry about my imagination. It’s the only action I’m getting anyway.” You laugh.

“When’s the last time you had sex y/n? Please tell me it wasn’t with your ex…”

“Yeah it was.” You admit and Taehyung pushes his head back, not liking you admission.

“Why haven’t you?” he asks.

“I felt so betrayed Taehyung…it’s sort of hard to trust anyone after that.” You sigh, “He hurt me bad. I’m…”

“You’re what?”

“I just don’t feel comfortable.” You say softly, “I don’t think I will for a while.”

“I see…I’m so sorry. I wish that didn’t happen to you.”

“It’s in the past now.”

Ben holds you close as he comes, his hands leaving behind their marks on your body from how tightly he holds you.

“Fuck yes.” He groans, “Did you come?” he asks quickly, breathing hard into your neck.

“It’s okay.” You sigh out, “As long as you feel good.”

“I felt amazing honey.” He kisses the side of your neck over and over. “Shit, we gotta get going. We’ll be late for work.”

“Do we really have to take separate cars?” you whine.

“Just for now babe.” He promises, lifting himself off your body, leaving your pussy aching for more.

“Okay…”

~

“He look so handsome today as usual…” you hear Layla talking to some of the other girls. “I’m telling you…he’s going to ask me out. He’s been eyeing me lately and complimenting me.” She gushes, catching your interest.

“Who?” you ask, setting your belongings down on your desk.

Layla turns to face you, waves her hand and smiles.

“Ben.”

Ben? Like your Ben? Her boss Ben?

“Ben who?” you blink at her and the other girls laugh.

“Obviously the only Ben we know!” Layla giggles and you feel your chest tighten.

“You think he’s going to ask you out?”

“Yes girl! He comes to my desk a few times day, calls me gorgeous, so on and so forth.” Layla says quietly so only you girls can hear. You feel your heart drop.

“I don’t think so.” You speak up. “Ben wouldn’t. He’s already seeing someone.”

“Oh really? Who?” Layla scrunches her brows together, “Because—”

“Me.” You blurt. “He and I are…”

The other girls stop their giggling and look at you with shocked eyes.

“There’s no way.” One of them says.

“y/n, are you serious?” Layla blushes, feeling a little embarrassed now.

“Yes, for months now.” you admit. “But we weren’t telling anyone…yet.”

“Wow! I can’t believe this!” another girl says, her hand coming to her mouth.

You then in a hush hush voice tell the group of girls yours and Bens story. You tell them how he pursued you, you finally agreed and how you two have been dating for over 6 months. They gush and gasp and giggle. It feels good to finally tell people, you think.

But unfortunately for you, it wasn’t good at all.

“y/n?” Taehyung knocks you out of your daze. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Fine.” You sigh, feeling weak. “I’m okay.”

Taehyung looks at you with pity, his eyes full of it. He stands tall and floats until he’s standing in front of you.

“I’m going to hug you.” He states calmly, “I really need to hug you.”

“Taehyung…” you step back until your back hits the ledge. “Now isn’t really appropriate.”

“I don’t care. I’ve already seen you naked.” He says nonchalantly. “C’mere.” He opens his arms wide for you and you shake your head.

“I said, c’mere.” He inches closer and closer. “Or I’m coming to you.”

“Taehyung.” You whine, but you let him get closer to you.

His wet arms reach out for you, he’s gripping your shoulders first before his hands easily slide down your arms until they’re under water holding on to your waist.

“C’mere.” He repeats. And you slowly inch closer towards him, your arms hesitantly circling around his middle. And then he’s pulling you in to his chest…he sighs when he feels your budding nipples graze his skin, he sighs when he feels the fullness of your breasts being pushed into him, he sighs when he feels you.

You release a long breath as you hug him, maybe you needed this. This type of human contact. You pull back and look up into Taehyung’s dark eyes, he’s already gazing at you.

“Thanks.” You mumble.

“I think of you because you’re cool. And really pretty.”

“Huh?” Why is Taehyung suddenly complimenting you?

“When I’m—you know. I think of you because you’re cool and really pretty. I could think of anyone ya know? That’s how an imagination works. But I still think about you.”

You’re sure your face is a dark crimson, with how hard you are blushing. How are you supposed to take this new information?

“W-Well,” You find it hard to look into his eyes. “I guess, same.”

“Because I’m pretty?” his tone is lighter all the sudden, you roll your eyes.

“What do you think? Timer should be going on any minute now.” Taehyung throws a glance over his shoulder towards the timer.

“Hmm…” You turn, reaching for the timer, your wet hands getting ahold of it. “Less than 5 minutes.” You read it.

“Oh.” He sings, “If you have a secret, share it now!” Taehyung chuckles into the water, his lips creating bubbles on the surface.

“You want to know even more about me?” You stand a little taller, the water reaching the tops of your breasts. You see Taehyung’s eyes linger for a second before meeting your eyes again. “If you wanna know anything, just ask.” You reach your arms over your head, releasing a yawn.

“Okay…” He places his fingers on his chin, “It’s about me though.” He stops, his fingers dragging down his neck. “Ah, never mind.”

“What?”

“No, it’s weird.”

“Aren’t we passed weird?” you giggle.

“No, it’s really weird.” He sighs out, sinking down into the water until his head is fully under.

You watch as he rises back up, the water cascading down his golden skin, the water from his hair dripping onto his shoulders.

A few moments pass, Taehyung stands here thinking to himself while you just shamelessly watch. You watch as he chews on the inside of his cheek, his eyes upward, scanning the stars. He hums some tune to himself, deep in thought. Honestly, you love when he does this. He looks so…good. Not in a sexual way, you swear. He just looks so him. So Taehyung. He goes from chewing on his cheek to his bottom lip, his teeth digging into the plump flesh. You gulp, God he has no idea how good he looks like this.

“Well?” You ask impatiently. Trying to wave away any more of those thoughts you were just having.

Taehyung releases his bottom lip from his teeth as his lips form into a pout, his eyes closing.

“I’m thinking…”

“Less thinking, more asking.” You feel way too curious about whatever it is he wants to say. And the minutes are passing you by.

Taehyung opens one eye to look at you, he exhales, and faces you.

“Does it sound like I’m in love with Hana?” he says quietly.

“W-What? You’ve only really brought her up once…”

“But when I talked about her did it seem like I have deep feelings for her?”

“She thinks I only like the idea of her” Taehyung mumbles to Jimin and Namjoon. “She doesn’t think I like her as much as I say? Which is so stupid!”

“Isn’t she right though?” Jimin asks with a frown, “You only ever talk about how pretty she is…”

“Jimin means you don’t really have that much in common with her, do you?” Namjoon questions softly. “You don’t…you don’t seem as into as you have been in the past. Are you sure you actually like her?”

Taehyung stares at his friends in disbelief, not believing his ears for one second.

“What are you guys talking about? I fucking like her.” He grits out.

“Are you sure you aren’t just lonely—”

“I don’t want to hear this.” Taehyung stands up from the couch, “I’m going to go see her.”

~

Taehyung makes it to Hana’s apartment but her roommate answers the door and frowns when she sees Taehyung,

“Yes?”

“Uh, I’m here to see Hana.” He gestures inside the apartment.

“Right…” the roommate stands off to the side and lets Taehyung in. “She’s in her room.”

Taehyung walks through the apartment and down the hall until he’s knocking on Hana’s door. She opens it quickly, hugging him and pulling him inside.

“Hey you.” She smiles at Taehyung and he smiles back with his teeth.

“Hi.”

“What brings you here?”

“Just came to hang out, maybe watch a movie?” Taehyung sways from side to side, trying to not make this awkward.

“Sure, you can choose the movie.” She goes to her desk, grabs her lap top and gestures towards her bed. “We can watch in my bed.” She says shyly.

“G-Good idea.”

~

“So how did you like it?” Taehyung asks excitedly. ‘Castaway on the Moon’ just finished and he is so happy he got to show her his favorite movie.

“Honestly?” she chuckles awkwardly, “I didn’t really like it.” She admits. “it was weird.”

“It’s not weird! It’s amazing,” he pouts and she giggles.

He does feel really disappointed that she doesn’t like his favorite movie…is that a red flag? No, he’s just being dramatic, he thinks.

“Next time I’ll choose the movie.” Hana cuddles closer to Taehyung. “Okay?”

“Sure.”

“Taehyung…” you begin, “Where is this coming from?”

“She doesn’t think—my friends too—don’t think we have a lot of chemistry. That I’m forcing myself to like her, but that’s not true! But sometimes I feel confused. And I thought I could get an outside opinion.” He admits, “But this was stupid you don’t have to answer.”

You can tell him you believe in his feelings or you can tell him you don’t think he’s even talked about her enough that you take his feelings seriously. But will that hurt him?

“I—”

Beep beep beep beep beep beep.

The fire place is turned on, creating a safe and cozy atmosphere. The gas lit flames burn a hole in the tension that fills the room. What sort of tension? Not sure.

Taehyung and you are sat comfortably on the sofa, sitting with crossed legs facing one another, your knees just barely touching. A bowl of popcorn rests between you and blankets wrapped around your bodies. Separate blankets, of course.

Taehyung and you have decided to move the party inside (with clothes: on) and continue talking.

The ringing of the timer didn’t completely ruin your conversation only delaying it.

“And I don’t know,” he takes a handful of popcorn and stuffs it in his mouth. “I think we would make a cute couple.”

“Yeah but like I asked, what sorts of things do you two talk about? Not if you guys are a cute couple.”

“We talk.” He states.

“Okay…about?”

“Stuff.”

“You aren’t helping your case.” You sigh out, biting your lip. “I want to believe in your feelings Taehyung but…”

“I know.” He cuts you off, “I know.”

“So why are you forcing it?” you reach for some popcorn yourself, “Why do you want to like her so bad?”

“I don’t know….” He admits softly, “I really don’t know.”

“You’re unsure of your feelings.” You say bluntly. “That’s what it seems like.”

“Maybe I am.” He wraps the blanket around his shoulders tighter. “I’m like you…I don’t know what love is.”

“And just like me, you’ll find it someday.” You promise him with a sweet smile. “Right?”

“You will for sure.” He breathes out, “I think I’m a ….”

“A?”

“God, I don’t even want to say it.” He throws his head in his hands. “But I think I am a hopeless romantic.”

“I just want some cute love story with a cute girl. And Hana is perfect.”

“But does she thrill you? Challenge you? Make you laugh?”

“She’s…” fuck, he doesn’t even know. Does he even know Hana that well?

“Hey y/n…” Taehyung looks up at you, his eyes finding yours and you shrink in your spot.

“Yes?”

“Can we watch my favorite movie? I’m curious what you might think about it.” He gazes at you and you nod your head slowly.

“Sure Taehyung.”

“Also, you can call me Tae.”

~

“Holy fuck.” You sob into your hands. “The fucking noodles.”

Taehyung looks over at you with a soft smile as he has his own tears falling down his face.

“I know right?”

“He finally felt like he had purpose Tae,” you look at him with a pathetic scrunched up face, tears still leaving your eyes.

“EXACTLY!” Taehyung wails, “EXACTLY!”

“This movie was amazing, and how everything turned out...wow…and how she…and he…my goodness. I’m still crying.”

“I told you!! I am so glad you enjoyed it.” He moves closer to you on the sofa without thinking.

“Only lame people wouldn’t like this movie!” you basically yell out and Taehyung scoots even closer, his shoulder bumping yours. But you barely notice, still too invested in the movie.

“Yeah.” He agrees with a smile. “You really must be my soulmate.” He jokes with an awkward smile. “No one else really likes this movie.”

“Ha-Ha.” You roll your eyes, “But anyway, that’s crazy since it was so good.”

“Stop praising it or I’ll have to marry you.” He jokes again and you start turning a rosy pink.

“Stop.” You whine, swatting his shoulder.

“Let’s call it a night, yeah?”

You and Taehyung clean up the kitchen and living room and head upstairs for the night, he walks you to your bedroom door and lingers.

“Tonight was crazy. I saw you naked.” He brings up the request and you go redder than red.

“We can literally never talk about it again…”

“Am I allowed to think about it at least?” he winks, his voice low and making you feel tense.

“Goodnight Taehyung.”

~~~~~~~~

Month 6

Today is one of those days…Taehyung is in a bad mood and you’re being a brat. He hates how much you’ve been teasing him today…he is sorting through his feelings for Hana but you insist on walking around with small shorts and low cut tank tops, claiming it’s ‘hot’. He finally has you cornered though, he’s finally had enough. He’s got you pushed up against a wall, his face so close that your breaths mingle with one another.

“You’re really pushing me today…” Taehyung leans closer, his warm breath fanning over your face. “Today’s not the day y/n.” he warns.

“How am I pushing you? I’m literally not doing anything.” You jut your bottom lip out and look to the side.

“You’re being…such a fucking tease.” He decides to say, “Which is giving me a real headache.” He leans down, his arms on either side of your body.

“So I give you a headache?” Your eyes look up into his and you smirk. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

“You are real annoying, you know that?” he can’t help but chuckle, but then he’s exhaling a deep breath and rolling his eyes. “Ask for forgiveness.”

“Ask for forgiveness?” you scoff. “Seriously? And what am I asking forgiveness for?”

“You’re lucky I’m not telling you to beg.”

“Beg?” you scoff again. “Who do you think you—”

“y/n.” his dark eyes gaze into yours. His hand slides down the wall and then it’s at your waist. He pulls you in and leans his head down closer to your face, you feel the lump in your throat grow as you ty to swallow it down.

“Y-Yes?”

“Ask for forgiveness.” He tells you again, this time much more softly.

“And if I don’t?” You stare up at him and he chuckles.

“Do you really want to find out?” his gaze doesn’t waver as he looks at you…the way he stares at you makes you feel bare in front of him, like he’s stripping you of your clothes, of your skin, everything.

“And if I do?” you whisper. “What happens if I do?”

Taehyung narrows his eyes at you as he licks his lips repeatedly…you’re really testing him aren’t you? He can’t tell if you’re toying with him because of the cameras or if it’s because you’re a brat.

“y/n.” he says your name like the sound of a slow breath. It feels intimate, the way he calls out for you. You can’t help but gulp as you blink up at him.

“Y-Yes?”

“You want to beg, don’t you?” he smirks, he pokes his tongue out as he eyes you. You can see the amusement in his eyes. “You want to…” the words are dying on his tongue because what can he say? Everything he wants to say would probably be deemed as inappropriate.

“I want to what?” you tilt your head up, your eyes scanning the entirety of his face and he leans further into your space.

“Just do as I say, tell me you’re sorry and we can move on.”

“Do as you say?” you lean back until your head is lightly hitting the wall, “You think I would really listen to you?”

“Such a brat.” His hand doesn’t let go of your waist as he leans back as well. “Why do I deal with this? And yes,” he rolls his head back. “I think you would very much enjoy listening to me.” He pauses and bites his lip. “If this company really thinks we’re a match made in heaven then I am sure you can assume what I mean.”

You silently gasp, a blush painting itself brightly on your cheeks.

“Ah,” he leans in again, “So you do know what I mean.”

“Taehyung,” you mumble, “Sometimes your flirting for the camera is too much.” You whisper quiet enough the cameras can’t hear.

Taehyung leans down until his mouth is at the shell of your ear and you can hear the smirk.

“Who says it’s for the cameras?” he leans away from you again, he finally drops his hand from your waist and is about to turn to leave when your hand flies to his shirt.

“Wait.” You blurt out, “I’ll…” you look off to the side. “I’ll say sorry”

“Oh?” Taehyung looks amused to say the least, “Go ahead, then.”

“Only if you tell me what’s wrong today.”

“It’s nothing.”

Your hand goes from the middle of his shirt to his shoulder and you look up at him with big, doe eyes as he blinks down at you over and over.

“What?” he whispers.

“Please.” You whisper back, “I’ll be good,” you promise in a low voice.

Taehyung feels his chest get warm, the heat traveling from there to his toes. He looks at you with his serious expression and softens.

“You are good.” He breathes out. His gaze intense as he stares into your eyes.

“Then…” you pause. Taehyung keeps his eyes on your eyes until he’s not. His eyes slowly travel down your face until he’s staring at your lips. He notices how plump they look, how your tongue darts out to wet them. He feels himself being drawn closer to you, leaning in further and further.

“…Taehyung.” You say breathlessly and Taehyung blinks repeatedly, clearing his throat as he leans back again.

“Fine, don’t apologize. Brat.” And he’s stepping away from you and you watch his back as he walks away.

Taehyung. Is. Such. A. tease. And it drives you absolutely insane. You’re sure the company that watches you is having the times of their lives as you suffer. Why does he have to go this far? It only makes you want to challenge him and go even further yourself. There was a moment, right? Where he acted like he was going to kiss you? Of course he wouldn’t actually do that. This is just for show but god, it still drives you nuts.

Taehyung rushes to his bedroom, slamming the door shut as he rests against it. What the hell is wrong with him? He’s just frustrated. He misses Hana. But why do you have to be so infuriating and you know, hot. And it makes him angry. He wasn’t actually going to kiss you, of course. But there was a moment of strange tension that he…he can’t describe. Taehyung slides down the door, falling to the ground. He remembers his first kiss with Hana, it was sweet and nice but like, he doesn’t remember it being intense not like how it feels when he gets close to you.

“Taehyung!” Hana giggles as she pats his back as she’s thrown over his shoulder. “Put me down!”

“Never!” Taehyung laughs just as much as he runs around in circles. “Ugh, so heavy though.” He jokes.

“Hey!” Hana hits his back, “Come on, put me down.” Her giggles softly relax and he’s setting her down back on the ground, her feet finally planted on the ground as she keeps her arms loosely thrown around his neck.

“You really love carrying me.”

“Holding you is fun.” He smiles, “And you’re not actually heavy. Actually you weigh nothing.”

“Yeah, right.” She playfully rolls her eyes.

“So.” Taehyung chuckles awkwardly, looking into Hana’s eyes.

“So…” she steps closer to him, tightening her hold around her neck. “We’ve been hanging out a lot …” she flutters her lashes, “And..”

“And?”

“I kind of want you to kiss me.”

“Oh.” Taehyung’s eyes widen. He was not expecting that. He smiles at her and nods his head. “Yeah, I can do that.” He teases, leaning in until his lips are against hers. He pulls back but she pushes herself forward to kiss him more and he sighs in her mouth, loving the feel of her lips.

“We should do that more often.” Taehyung breathes out and Hana giggles.

Taehyung groans into his hands, recalling his memories. He does miss Hana but he feels like every time he thinks of her…he somehow is also thinking about you too. But it’s not like he’s thinking of you like that but yeah, you’re on his mind. And he’s got to chill out. He stands up from the floor and walks to his bed, throwing himself on it with a bounce. He’s still so frustrated. He recalls dinner yesterday, how he…

“I’m staring at you because you have sauce on your lips.” Taehyung says from across the dining room table.

“Should I get it for you?” he teases, standing up from his chair, the sound of it screeching against the floor makes you flinch.

“No, no.” you shake your head, “I can do it myself.”

“What if I want to help you though?” Taehyung tilts his head with innocent eyes. “I’ll clean you up.”

“Tae—”

Taehyung walks to your side of the table and bends down until his face is level with your face, he smiles at you and raises his thumb up to your lips. His thumb brushes across your bottom lip slowly, the heat of his finger making you sigh out. He leans in closer as he finishes wiping the sauce off your mouth. When he finishes he takes a moment to look into your eyes like he’s searching them for something. He’s not sure what though. You feel yourself being hypnotized by his gaze, you, yourself stare back at him just as deeply…you think he’s going to lean away any second but instead he brings his hand between your faces and brings his thumb to his mouth. His thumb pushes past his lips and he’s licking it clean, the action purposely agonizingly slow.

“There. Got it.” He breathes out, “All clean.”

Your eyes widen just the slightest…he’s a tease. A fucking tease.

Taehyung’s eyes light up in amusement when he watches how you flush under his hard stare and he starts laughing.

“W-What?” you spit out, your embarrassment has you stabbing your food with your fork. “What’s funny?”

“You.” He says with a grin, the air is starting to thin out as he laughs. “You make me laugh.”

“Glad I can entertain.” You roll your eyes.

You’re so…fuck, you’re so sexy. Taehyung has been wanting to admit that for a while, but god, he has to really fucking control himself. But he’s trying to keep these thoughts at bay because he needs to figure out what he’s doing about Hana.

He lays here thinking of all the moments he has flirted with you for the camera, he groans into his pillow when he has the hardest realization. Is it really for the camera? The tension between you two is so fucking thick, the air is suffocating, making it hard to breathe. The intensity…the thrill. You are the only one who makes him feel like his world is burning with a passionate fire. Hana is nice but you? You’re you and he’s realizing how much he likes that.

He’s realizing a lot. It’s been 6 months and he thinks he is ready to admit that this is beyond what he signed up for. He signed on to get along, but this? This is a whole other journey he’s going on.

Taehyung sits up in bed, his face gone pale as he makes his realizations. His mouth hangs open as his mind races. Does Taehyung just want to fuck you? Or….does Taehyung like you?

Suddenly, there’s soft knocking on his bedroom door, his head snaps in that direction and he knows it’s you—well duh, who else would it be? He scrambles off the bed and he’s opening the door. You’re wearing yoga pants and a long sleeve shirt now with an innocent smile on your face.

“I turned the AC down.” You say. “Now I won’t make your life hard by wearing hardly any clothes.” You’re teasing him and he’s going wild for it.

“Oh really?” he breathes out, “Are you going to say sorry?” he teases back, his breathing picking up.

“Should I ask for forgiveness?” you mock him and he raises a brow at you.

“I’m going to make you beg y/n.” he says lowly, “Keep this up and I’ll be carrying you to the other bedroom.”

Your smile drops at his words. What does he mean by that? He’s taking the acting too far…

“You ever begged before baby?” He walks closer to you, making you uneasy. You step backward further into the hall and sigh out.

“Maybe.”

“From now on, you’ll only ever do it for me.” He says so low, that you barely hear him. But you do hear him and you shudder.

“Taehyung.” You warn softly, you push him by the shoulders, backing him into his bedroom. Once inside you close the door and look at him expectantly.

“What?” he rolls his eyes at you.

“You’re being too much…” you whisper. “But fuck, I gotta admit you’re good.” You breathe out roughly, “It almost feels real.”

“I wasn’t kidding earlier.” Taehyung walks towards you, his hand reaching out to touch the ends of you hair, “Who says this is for the cameras?”

You glance up at him, clearly confused.

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh y/n.” Taehyung feels his heart start to race. “This just got a lot more interesting.”

[dancingaliensfics]

♡My Prison Pen Pal♡

Helmut Zemo x reader

Word count: 1,802

Warnings: swearing, mentions of prison and crimes and slight angst to do with his family

A/N: its finally here! I havent writen a fic in a long time so hopefully you guys like this! I tried to avoid using idioms and things like that but message me if you need anything explained or reworded as I know most people aren't native English speakers

@sorcerersofnyc

♡♡♡

His first letter came during the series finale of your favourite show. A rather inconvenient moment, you thought, so it stayed on the welcome mat until you passed through the hall on your way to bed. Picking it up, you figured you'd skim the first few lines then finish it and write a reply before work. Instead, you found yourself writing and rewriting a reply through the night. Somehow this man had managed to enthrall you with only a letter. Maybe it was the way he wrote as if he was some elegant poet whose sonnets would one day be hailed as classics. How he managed to be open and expressive, exuding a welcoming aura, and yet still seeming mysterious. Or perhaps it was simply fated by the stars that Helmut Zemo would capture your heart.

You waited anxiously for his second letter to arrive. After sending the first, you hadn't cared whether you got a response, the whole thing seemed like a bad idea to you. But your mother was insistent that you needed to meet new people and this way you wouldn't need to worry about awkward face to face conversations. Sending the first letter felt like any other chore you do in the day, done with much effort and resignment but forgotten within minutes. But the second? It felt like the most important thing you'd done in a long time. You'd even bought a first class stamp (not that it makes a difference).

You wanted to know more about this intriguing man. No, supervillain. Charged with international terrorism. Jesus christ what the fuck was wrong with you? Were you really falling in love with a supervillain after one letter? But he didn't seem evil to you. He wrote eloquently, somehow his simple and brief description of his day (he'd started reading a new psychology book, you'd have to send him some recommendations) sounded fascinating in his words.

Over time, you started to notice small things about Helmut. The way he crossed his t's, how he signed his name, but mainly that there was a romanticism to his writing. From the way he described his home, his wife, his son to his recipes for Sokovian dishes with small notes and doodles (your favourite was his shepherd's pie recipe where he helpfully noted his mother's assertion that you should always add more than you think you need). It was becoming clear to you that he wasn't the stoic and vengeful baron you expected but rather a soft, lonely and endearingly weird man who you couldn't imagine plotting to destroy the Avengers. Whilst it was his mystery that first captivated you, it was his sweet and sometimes awkward personality that convinced you to keep writing.

It took a while for Helmut to tell you about his family. You had heard on the news back when he first arrested about his motive, so you were interested to hear his perspective on his crimes. But that wasn't what you got. Instead, he told you about when he and his father used to play football when he was young and how they would play a match every time he visited, with Helmut playing against his father and son, who always wanted to play with grandfather. He told you of the songs his wife used to sing, how her voice was always loud and shaky and after years of singing somewhere over the rainbow she would still forget the lyrics and invent her own. He told you how his son was the best pianist he had ever heard. How he could play the greatest rendition of amazing grace and that he had just learnt the theme from swan lake. That he had been excited to practice it on his grandfathers grand piano the day Ultron attacked.

There was something so human about this man. His love for his family, his loss and grief, his plan to avenge his family, it was all so tragic and yet here he was sending you drawings of the flowers from his garden growing up. You wanted to hug him and yet sometimes you felt he wouldn't need it, wouldn't want it. You were wrong.

Helmut Zemo missed his family. He told you so in one of his most recent letters. He missed holding his son, brushing his wife's hair, going for long drives, waking up at 2am to comfort his son, early morning trips to the shops, cleaning up after dinner, helping with homework. Everything he listed seemed so trivial, so meaningless in the grand scheme of life and yet the memories meant so much to him.

You realised then you had never pitied him before. Not that he wasn't deserving of it, just that he didn't seem to need it. But overtime you realised that what Helmut had really needed wasn't revenge or to make a world free from superhumans, it was someone to talk to. Someone to trust. Someone who would understand his pain and not judge it. Perhaps, you thought to yourself, you could be that person.

Fuck.

You couldn't think of how to cope with this. No one you knew had ever mentioned falling in love with a criminal through letters. And as hard as you tried you hadn't been able to find a single romcom with this plot line. You couldn't tell him. You imagined with his seemingly fragile state of mind receiving from basically a stranger professing their love would at best cause him to ghost you. Especially after he confided in you, shared his thoughts and memories.

So instead you continued as normal. You sent him pressed flowers and pictures of your favourite places. Eventually, he asked what looked like, and you spent an hour trying to decide whether you should send a picture of yourself or to just vaguely describe your features. After deciding to send a picture of yourself on holiday a few months before the blip, you found yourself wondering what he'd do with it. Would he throw it away as soon as he got the letter or would he keep it, tuck it away in some book to look at whilst thinking of you?

You also found yourself wondering what he looked like in the real world. You had found pictures of him online, but they didn't feel real. He was never rarely happy. The pictures pre Ultron were clearly taken by paparazzi, so you weren't surprised he rarely looked anything other than annoyed. There were a few though, ones with his wife and son, where he clearly hadn't noticed, and some from when he was much younger and seemed to enjoy the attention. Then were those taken after his arrest.

And so you continued to wonder he looked like. How he looked in the morning, with flowers in his hair or in summer with the sun lighting his face. You wondered what his hair looked like wet, if he ever scrunched his nose in disgust. You wondered what his smile was like.

Over time, you told him more about yourself. The stress of returning home after the blip to no job, no house and your friends 5 years older. Your ex was married with kids and your sister had moved abroad. It was as if you blinked and your whole life had changed. You mentioned how it was your mum who had suggested getting a pen pal, so you could talk to someone new, who was living a different life to you, although she had meant someone in a different country not jail. Since coming back you'd been isolated and stressed with starting a new job, recovering lost information and personal belongings and moving house, so you had thought it might be good to speak to someone who didn't know you, who couldn't judge you. You told Helmut how it had been good, how writing to him had helped you, how he had helped you more than he could ever know.

No, that sounded creepy. How you appreciated his letters.

Too formal. How you hadn't expected to become his friend, but you were glad to be able to say you were.

Helmut was comforting. You knew in your head that your meeting on Friday was nothing to worry about but seeing him say it felt so reassuring. Each one of his letters made you feel relaxed, feel safe. You wanted to make him feel the same. So, as a way to repay his kindness you had told him that no matter what happened, he could always trust you. And it was true. You couldn't imagine a world where you wouldn't do anything for Helmut and although you knew he would never need it, you still wanted him to know you would always care about him, even if no one else did.

Writing to him had become as easy as talking to someone you'd known all your life. You had fallen into an easy routine, you knew when to expect his letters and you knew when you'd send a reply. The routine felt so natural that you even knew what the envelope would look like, always the same off-white with a square edged flap. The address was always the same too. Except on his last letter. Which was strange.

At first, you thought Helmut had been moved to a different prison but after frantically typing the address into Google Maps you realised it was not a prison. Fuck you had no idea what it was, but it wasn't a prison. It also wasn't in Germany.

You sat still, staring at the unopened letter for a few minutes.

You looked up at the door. You thought you heard someone knock. The post had already come and you weren't expecting people. Hell, there wasn't anyone other than your parents who would visit anyway and they would have called first. Now you were sat still, staring at the front door.

"I know you're in there, the lights are on."

It was as if you were a marionette, being moved by some strange force that was slowly pulling you out of your seat and towards the door. You didn't even register that you moved until you felt the door handle on your fingertips. The cold metal caused you to stop, as if broken out of a trance. There was a sudden realisation that if you opened the door your life would never be the same. It was sickening, a mixture of dread and excitement; it reminded you of the moment before a roller coaster drops. You repeated that thought in your head. "Your life would never be the same". Your life hadn't been the same in almost a year. What would be the harm in one more big change. So you did it. You opened the door.

His smile was beautiful.

[angelmavmurdock]

Our Little Secret: Part Eight - A.R.

LAST OF THE SERIES

Word count: Summary: 5 years later...

-

WARNINGS: MENTIONS OF MURDER AND SEXUAL ASSAULT (basically everything Arvin and the preacher did in the movie is touched on).

-

5 years later

"Well, y/n, your application is outstanding. We'd love for you to work here." The headteacher spoke to me from across his desk.

"Really? Wow! Thank you so much!" I beamed.

"The new school term starts in August and the kids really need a well-taught, professional, young teacher who can help them grow as children. I think you're perfect for the job."

"Thank you so much, that means a lot. I can't wait to start."

Teaching. Teaching year 1. It was my dream to work with kids and now finally after 4 years of college I could do it.

I've been living in Cincinnati since I left high school 5 years ago. I needed to get out of that town as soon as I could. Everywhere I went it would remind me of Lenora...and Arvin.

I kept in touch with Emma, though. We still chatted at least a few times a month on the phone and she told me every time how much she missed Lenora and how much she missed Arvin. Though it was easier with Lenora because she knew what had happened to her - well, not fully - but she knew that she was gone. With Arvin, she didn't know why he was gone, what he was doing or had done and if he was still even alive. I didn't tell her about what Arvin told me on our last night. I promised him I wouldn't.

But every time I called her it was like I was being set back on my journey of grief and getting over him. I was with a lovely guy called William and we've been together since my last year of college. He didn't know about Lenora or Arvin or the Russell's.

But he did come with me to my father's funeral a few months ago.

Daddy had gotten worse and worse since being in New Coal Creek. We thought he was going to get better once we got him into hospital but it didn't make a difference. And when I moved to Cincinnati, I hardly ever saw him and Ma and I's row got in between Daddy and I's relationship.

So I went to his funeral feeling like the worst daughter on the planet. And I felt as if I was losing everyone I had ever truly loved.

Will was lovely and he worked in the same position Daddy used to work at. We had a house together and we lived there comfortably. It's much like how I grew up living. A big house with no one to fill it with. We didn't even have a dog or a cat because of his allergies. We were engaged to be married and he had bought me a very expensive and big diamond ring which was nice but I had no interest in.

Of course, I accepted. But as soon as he asked me the million dollar question, the first person that popped into my head was Arvin. And then Lenora. And then Daddy.

Wedding planning was very stressful when you don't have many friends or family around to help.

And after my meeting with the headteacher I was heading into town to find my wedding dress.

I was dreading it.

Ma was coming down to help and we'd meet at the place.

I thanked the headteacher and walked out excitedly, ready to start my teaching career. I got in my car and I drove into town. The closer I got, the worse I felt. I didn't want to get a wedding dress and I didn't want to get it with Ma either.

I parked outside of the dress shop and reluctantly got out. The shop was extravagant and elegant. I dreaded going inside. But my feet took me in as my brain lusted for home.

"y/n!" Ma exclaimed, shuffling up to me, already carrying dresses in her arms.

"Ma, hi." She nearly winded me as she embraced me.

I lightly put my hands around her but she tore away quickly.

"This place is just wonderful! I've already found a few you'd look great in!"

"Ma, I'd love if I was the one who would get to pick out my own weddin' dress." I raised a brow.

She sighed, "Fine. Yes, of course. Go into the changin' rooms and I'll follow."

I rolled my eyes and walked to one of the rooms where a consultant with a pearly white smile greeted me.

"Miss y/l/n, lovely to meet you. I'm Angela and I'll be helpin' you today! Are these the dresses you'd like to try?" She chirped, referring to the dresses in my mothers arms.

I sighed, "Yes."

"Great! Come on in."

-

I stood on the podium in front of the wall-length mirror with the fourth wedding dress on. It was a column dress that fell straight down with only a slight cinch at the waist. It had long sleeves and a high neck and lace covered the bodice. It was not my style.

"You look beautiful!" Ma complimented.

"I don't like it, Ma." I shook my head, twisting and turning to look at it.

"It's your fourth dress and you haven't liked any of them."

"They're just...not my style." I sighed.

Ma rolled her eyes and stood next to me, "It's not about your style. It's about looking gorgeous on your wedding day."

I furrowed my brows, "It's my wedding dress and it's my wedding. I want to love my dress."

"Well you are not the one paying for it." She brushed over my hips.

I felt rage bubble inside of me.

"Fine. We'll take this one then." I stated with a scoff and returned to the changing room in a huff.

-

"Okay, your fitting will be next month and that's when you'll get your dress home, alright?"

"Thank you." I smiled weakly at the consultant.

"You're welcome. Have a nice day!"

We waved goodbye and began walking out the shop. I placed my white gloves on and adjusted the white hat ornamented with a flower on my curled hair. I smoothed out my white and pale blue polka-dotted dress and adjusted the sky blue belt around my waist. Ma opened the door for me and I thanked her before leaving and hearing the click of my heels on the ground.

"y/n, I won't keep you long, but...you're a woman now. You're 23, you're getting married, you live away from home, you're getting a job. You're a woman. But just because you are older, does not mean I stop being your mother. I will always be your mother whether you like it or not and you have to treat me as such." Ma said, folding her arms over her red, floral tea dress.

I took a deep breath and looked at her.

"You took away my freedom when I was a teenager and because of that, I lost time with - not only Lenora - but Arvin, too. I don't know where he is now. No one does."

Just as I was about to talk about our last night I remembered she still didn't know I snuck out.

"I lost my best friend and the love of my life in the space of weeks and you kept me locked away until there was no one left. I'll never forgive you for that." I said, my head held high.

Ma took a few seconds to process the information and then nodded.

"I'm sorry you feel that way. I had no idea. I love you, y/n. I will always love you, alright?" She held my shoulders.

I swallowed and nodded, not looking at her.

"Congratulations on your new job, honey. I'll see you soon." She leaned in and gave me a kiss on the cheek then turned and walked away.

I took a few deep breaths as I watched her, guilt and anger washing away gradually. Part of me didn't want to go home. I wanted to escape for a while. I didn't want to have to go back and sit alone in a huge house I didn't like and I didn't want to wait up for a phone call from Will. I wanted to be by myself. I needed to. I looked around and at my car before deciding I'd go into town for a while.

I left the car and stuffed the keys further into my handbag. I clicked down the pavement until I reached the main road of shops, leading to a lake and a park where families would walk and eat ice-cream.

It was summer, so the sun was out in full, the trees swaying in the warm breeze and the sound of a few buskers playing accompanied by the noise of town people roaming around filled the warm air.

I smiled and said good mornin' to people as I walked by, waving at a few kids and cooing at some babies. I'd never really spent much time in town. I was always working or at the house with Will. It felt good to be out and alone. I wandered around, looking in some shop windows and wishing for the dresses but deciding against it.

It wasn't until I passed a shop and briefly glanced in it that I actually stopped to look closely. I took a double take and stood in front of the window, looking up at the displayed mannequin. It was a white blouse paired with a white tennis skirt and blue ribbon tied around the neck. A fond grin grew on my face. It reminded me of high school. Though I never wore mine on my neck, I still wanted it. I never wore ribbons in my hair anymore.

I couldn't help myself but go in. I entered the seemingly quiet shop and found the nearest shop consultant.

"Hi! I love that ribbon you have on show, is it for sale?" I asked with a smile.

The woman looked almost confused, "It's a ribbon...it's for decoration?"

"Oh...well, I'd still love to buy it. Name a price." I smiled again.

She looked at me dumbfounded for a moment but then shook it off and walked to the mannequin. She untied the silk and walked back over with it, placing it into my hands.

"It's free." She smiled.

"Thank you so much. I love it." I grinned.

"Have a nice day, now."

"I will." I beamed, walking out the store.

I felt giddy with nostalgia and excitement as I pulled my hair back under my hat and tied it with the ribbon, giving it a delicate bow. I checked it in my compact mirror and smiled with joy. I felt closer to myself.

I continued walking down the road and then to the lake. I stood and leaned against the railing, watching the elegant swans float by, their white feathers contrasting beautifully against the dark blue of the water. I watched them for a while, probably for about 10 minutes before I felt a light tug on my dress.

I got a fright and looked down where a young girl was standing next to me. I immediately smiled with relief and stood back.

"Hello," I waved.

"You're very beautiful, ma'am." She complimented in a strong southern accent.

"Why thank you, Mrs." I grinned.

"Would you like some bread to feed the swans?" She offered, holding up a chunk of bread.

"I would love some. Thank you." I graciously accepted the bread, holding it in my gloved hands.

The girls' mother called her back. She looked up at me and waved.

"Bye!" She said, before running off to her mum.

I smiled and laughed a little before turning back to the swans. I broke a piece of bread off and threw it in the water. I threw some more pieces in and watched as they all swam to the food, fighting over who got what.

Once I was out of bread, I sighed, leaning against the railing by my forearms. I took in my surroundings. I looked to my left where children were playing with each other as parents stood or sat on benches, resting. A few elderly couples walked by, hand in hand, arm in arm, chatting about everything and nothing.

A girl on a pink bike caught my eye. She was gorgeous and sat atop the seat with joy and pride as she rode by. My eyes followed her as she rode behind me and kept going.

But my eyes shifted focus when she rode by someone.

Someone who looked eerily familiar.

He had brown, woven, checkered trousers on and a white dress shirt with sleeves that were rolled up to his elbows. Brown suspenders hung over his shoulders and a white vest peeked out from the unbuttoned shirt.

But the dark eyes with the brown, slicked back hair and the cigarette in his mouth gave him away.

He was already looking at me, however. Like he had been for hours. I turned slightly, feeling my heart beat rise as he threw his cigarette on the ground.

It can't be him. It's just a lookalike. It's because I've been thinking about him today. It's not him. He's not here.

He walked closer to me but stopped about 2 metres away, hands in pockets with his chest rising and falling as rapidly as mine.

I could feel my chest heave against my dress as I stared at him, trying to decipher if that was truly him or if I was just dreaming.

"y/n?" He finally said, unsure of whether I was who he thought I was.

"A-Arvin?" I whispered.

A smile began to grow on his face and I knew it was him. It was him. Arvin.

I dropped my handbag and ran towards him, throwing my arms around his neck a our bodies collided, nearly setting us back.

His arms wrapped around my waist and lifted me up, making my legs pop up. He still smelled the same and he still felt the same. He felt like home.

"I can't believe you're here." I whispered, feeling a tear fall down my face.

He placed me back on my feet and I looked at him, cupping his face with my hands. He held them, stroking my thumbs with a smile.

"Why are you here?" He asked softly.

"I-I live here. I have since...since high school." I gulped.

He raised his brows, "I've been here for four years, y/n."

My mouth dropped open, "What?!"

He grinned, his hands squeezing mine, "We've both been livin' here for four years but not ran into each other."

I stuttered, "Wh-what? How is that- oh my gosh." I laughed, bringing my hands away from his face.

"I can't believe you're here, Arvin." I gulped, my chin quivering slightly.

"I didn't think I'd ever see you again." I bit my lip, trying to stop myself from crying in public.

"Hey, shh." He brought me into him, cradling my head against his chest.

"We're here. I'm here." He said softly.

-

We decided to walk around the park to catch up which seemed both amazing but alien at the same time. We were still us but we had changed so much.

"Still wearin' ribbons I see." He grinned.

I laughed, "Don't make fun of me."

"I'm not. I always loved them." He smiled.

I blushed and looked to the ground.

"So, why Cincinnati?" Arvin asked.

I sighed, "I couldn't live there anymore after school." I gulped.

"It was just too hard. And I got accepted into college here so I decided to move."

"You'll be finished school now, right?" Arvin queried.

"Yeah. I just finished and I actually just got a job today, so." I smiled.

"That's amazin'. I'm happy for you." He grinned.

"Thank you..."

We walked in silence for a little longer than I would have hoped. But he broke it again.

"Why're you in town today, then? Considering I spend every day here and I've never seen you leads me to believe you don't come here often." He chuckled.

I nodded, "Yeah, I never get the chance too. But I was uh...I was actually in town for a dress fitting." I coughed, looking down at the floor.

"Goin' somewhere nice?" He asked.

I scoffed a laugh and looked up at him, "My wedding."

He stared at me in surprise, eyes wide and mouth open, soaking in the information.

"Y-you're engaged?" He croaked.

I nodded, removing my left glove to show the sturdy ring that sat on my finger.

"W-wow. I mean...he must be rich if you got a ring like that." He swallowed, looking down at his shoes.

"I mean...yeah, I guess." I shrugged awkwardly, putting the glove back on.

"How long have you been-"

"Uh, since last year. We met in college. He was doin' finance and Daddy actually put in a good word for him and he got his old job."

"He got your daddy's old job?" Arvin repeated.

"Yeah...yeah once uh...once he passed, they needed someone to fill his shoes so." I gulped.

Arvin stopped, "Your Dad passed? When?"

I chewed the inside of my lip, "Earlier this year."

"y/n, I am so, so sorry." He placed a hand on my arm.

"No, don't be silly. It's fine. He just never got well after he took a turn in Coal Creek." I said, beginning to walk again.

"I remember how sick he was..."

My chest fluttered. It was as if our past was an alternate universe. Like we never really lived it. It was just a different version of ourselves that did. Because now, we were here and it didn't feel the same. Not completely.

"So...should I ask how you ended up here?" I asked cautiously.

He tilted his head from side to side as if trying to figure an answer out himself.

"I don't think you'd like the details." He stated, reaching into his pocket for another cigarette.

"Did you..." I stopped, looking around us before lowering my voice.

"Did you do what you implied you would?" I asked, looking into his seemingly innocent eyes.

He inhaled some smoke and then exhaled, turning away for my sake.

"I did what I implied." He stated simply.

My stomach turned. I kept chewing my lip with nervousness, looking into his eyes. He didn't seem like a killer. He wasn't a bad person. I knew him. I knew who he was. And a murderer was not in his description.

I wanted to know about it. About him. I needed to know. So, impulsively - a word I hadn't used since our last night in Coal Creek - I invited him back with me.

"Would you come home with me? I live 15 minutes out of town and I'd really like to talk but I don't think a public park is appropriate." I said in a hushed tone.

He thought about it before nodding, "Sure."

-

The drive to my house was a little awkward. The radio played at a low hum while we sat in near silence, only the sound of the wind and other cars passing by filling the air.

"Used to be me drivin' you everywhere." Arvin commented with a chuckle.

I smiled, "Oh, how the tables have turned."

He laughed and so did I, then we resumed our mutual silence.

When we got to Will and I's estate, I drove through the gates of the house to the driveway where at the top, a large house sat - much like the one in Coal Creek.

"Our drivin' might've changed but this certainly hasn't." Arvin sighed, almost as if he was disappointed.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked with a raised brow.

He shrugged, "Feels all too familiar, that's all." He said before getting out the car.

I screwed my face up at his comment but decided to let it slide. I got out of the car and locked it before following Arvin who seemed as if he knew the place, up the steps of the porch.

"Is your fiancé home?" He asked the ground, hands in pockets.

I shook my head, "He's out of town for a weekend with work."

I stuck the key into the lock of the wide, white front door and opened it. I walked inside then held it open for Arvin.

He walked in and looked around, taking in his new surroundings.

The hallway was wide and white, only paintings filling the wall space and a large staircase to the left winded up to the next floor.

"Wow...I mean, you've done well for yourself." Arvin scoffed a laugh.

"Thank you." I smiled weakly, taking my hat from my head.

He looked up at the high ceilings, appreciating the chandelier that hung above the doorway.

"Come on through. Do you want tea? Coffee?" I offered, walking down the hallway and into the open kitchen/living room area while taking my gloves off.

He walked in behind me, looking around the new room he was in before following me into the kitchen.

"How about a scotch?" He asked with a smirk.

I smiled, "That'd be appropriate, I think."

I got the crystal decanter and two glasses from the tray that sat atop the kitchen table. I poured us two glasses and then handed Arvin one. I brought the decanter with us as we migrated to the couch.

I slipped my heels off before sitting down, my dress puffing and fanning out over my lap. Arvin sat opposite me, his ankle resting on his knee comfortably.

"So..." I started.

"So." He repeated.

"I think I might have more questions about you than you do about me." I smiled weakly.

He nodded, "Probably right."

I took a deep breath before asking any questions.

"Who got Lenora pregnant?" I asked.

I thought that would be a good starting point. It was what started everything.

"Reverend Teagardin. The new preacher that came to town." Arvin answered.

My eyes widened, "What?!"

"He took Lenora - and other girls - into the woods," Arvin began to explain.

He stared at the crystal in his hands and the liquid floating inside of it. He didn't once look up at me.

"He'd make them pray before they got started and he'd take advantage of them."

"Didn't he have-"

"A wife? Yeah. But he was abusin' her at home, too." He gulped.

"Oh my god. That's horrible." I sighed, my stomach feeling uneasy.

He finally looked up at me and I could feel his curiosity burn into me.

"Do you...do you still talk to Grandma?" He asked, his voice slightly shaky.

I smiled and nodded, "Yeah. I talked to her last week."

A slight smile grew on his face with relief, "How is she?"

"She's okay. She always talks about you and Lenora. Mostly you now, though. I mean, I never told her a thing about our last night and she still doesn't know about Lenora's pregnancy. She knows just as much as when you left."

He licked his teeth and nodded, "Thanks for keepin' in touch."

"Of course. I said I would, didn't I?" I grinned.

He nodded with a smile.

"So how about you? Livin' here in this big house with a big-shot fiance. Must be nice." He quirked his brow, taking a sip of his drink.

He was trying to pry something out of me, I could feel it.

"It's good. He takes care of me and we're happy." I stated.

"It's not boring?"

"No." I lied.

He tilted his head, "I can tell when you're lyin', y/n."

I scoffed, "You haven't seen me in five years and you think you can just come back here and tell me you know me so well? Don't start with that bullshit, Arvin."

He furrowed his brows, "Are you mad at me? What did I do?"

I rolled my eyes, "You don't know me, Arvin. So don't act like you do."

I sat my glass down and swiftly stood up from the couch. He did the same.

"I might not have seen you in years but I think I know you better than anyone on this planet. Am I right?" He asked, watching as I paced up and down in front of him.

I scoffed and shook my head.

"You're tellin' me that this guy- this guy - knows you better than I do?" Arvin lifted a picture of Will and I up to demonstrate.

"Yes. He does."

"Bullshit." He spat.

"You don't get to say shit like that Arvin. You know why?" I challenged, standing close to him with my hands on my hips.

"Why?" He retorted.

"Because you left! You left to murder someone! You'd have rather been a killer livin' with guilt for the rest of your life than to be with me." I shouted.

I didn't notice how close we were until he laughed and I could feel his familiar breath on my face.

"I had to do it. That preacher was no good. And neither was that cops sister and her dirt-bag husband." He snapped.

I blinked at him in confusion.

"Wh-what do you mean the cops sister and her husband?" I asked in a soft tone.

He looked away from me and gulped.

I gasped and held my hands over my mouth, "Did- did you-"

He grabbed and held my hands, "They were gonna kill me, y/n. They would take hitchhikers and murder them to take pictures with their dead bodies. I wasn't about to be the next one."

I widened my eyes, "They did what?!"

"And then I got caught out by the cop...his sister was the wife. He followed me to Knockemstiff and tried to shoot me with a shot gun. I had to, y/n. He was gonna kill me I-"

I could see the tears and the panic in his eyes. I just reached my hands up and wrapped them around his shoulders, bringing him into my arms. His face went into my neck and I could feel tears drip onto my skin. I threaded my fingers through his hair.

"I'm a bad person, y/n. I killed four people..." He sniffed.

"Arvin, look at me." I tugged him from my neck and cupped his cheeks.

"You are not a bad person. You were just caught up in some twisted shit and you had no other way. You are a good person, Arvin." I said sincerely, feeling tears spring into my own eyes.

"I lost you because of it, though I just- I can't-" He cried.

"I know." I sniffled, feeling a tear drip down my face.

I looked at him; teary, eyes swollen and red, complexion pale. I didn't know what else to do.

"You're a good person, Arvin." I said again, leaning up on my tip-toes to kiss his cheek.

He hummed at my touch and I kissed his other cheek, "You did nothin' wrong."

I went back to his right cheek and kissed it again like I needed to feel his skin on my lips once more.

Just as I went to kiss his other cheek, he leaned forward and caught my lips with his instead.

I gasped, pulling away from his body and looking at him, touching my fingers over my lips.

"I-I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. You're an engaged woman and I-"

I launched forward, wrapping my arms around his neck and crashing my lips to his. It took a second to make sure it was real. But as his hands slid effortlessly onto my waist, I knew.

"You're the love of my life, Arvin. You always have been and always will be." I whispered, pulling away briefly.

He stared into my eyes but didn't say a word. But I knew what he was thinking. He kissed me again, our lips moved over each other's with fervour and passion, the excitement and thrill of tasting each other again for the first time in years. In too long. He felt and tasted the same but more mature and wiser.

He pushed me back by my waist until my back hit the wall. I let out a moan of surprise and pleasure. He smirked against my lips before devouring me again. His tongue slipped easily into my mouth and I hummed, fully tasting him. My fingers ran through and tugged at his hair, and his hands ran up and down my sides and my back.

His touch felt nostalgic but euphoric and in the heat of the moment, everything was perfect.

"Your lips taste amazing," He said breathlessly between sloppy kisses.

"So do yours." I replied.

He wrapped his hands around my back and skilfully unzipped my dress. It fell to the floor in a pool around my ankles. I brought my hands to his shoulders as our kiss got heavier, teasing his suspenders before sliding them off his arms. I began unbuttoning his shirt in a hurried fashion as his lips started trailing down my jaw to my neck. I was finally able to push the fabric from his shoulders and then pulling his vest over his head.

And as his hands came down to my thighs to lift me up and around his torso, and as he carried me up and into my bedroom; I knew that he was it. He was the person I was destined to be with. He was the love of my life.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

5 years later

(Play ‘That Old Feeling’ by Doris Day now)

I placed the needle carefully onto the record and turned it up.

I walked through the house and got to the porch where I looked out and saw Arvin and Jack playing catch. I stood with a grin as my husband and 4 year old played enthusiastically - the old baseball still intact and very much in use.

I crouched down and placed the 2 year old who rested on my hip, onto the ground. She wobbled slightly but quickly got up and running. She made her way to the stairs which I quickly intervened and grabbed her hand to help her down onto the soil.

"Go get Daddy, Charlotte. Go!" I laughed, pointing to Arvin.

She squealed happily and ran towards her Dad, arms flailing clumsily as she sprinted. Arvin stopped the game of catch briefly as he saw his daughter coming towards him.

"Hey princess!" He grinned, crouching to his knees and grabbing his daughter.

He lifted her up and sat her on his knee, handing her the ball.

"Throw the ball to Jack, Charlotte!" Arvin prompted, pointing to the blonde haired boy who stood confidently.

She babbled a few words and then threw the ball onto the ground. At least she attempted. I whooped and clapped as I walked over.

"Good job, baby!" I praised in a baby voice.

Arvin stood up, letting Charlotte run around with her brother for a while, the dog joining them, enthusiastically bounding around them.

"Hey, handsome." I grinned as I reached Arvin.

"Hey, beautiful." He smiled.

He wrapped an arm around my waist and kissed me, tongue briefly slipping into my mouth. I hummed in surprise and pulled away.

"Careful, Arvin or you'll be makin' another one of those tonight." I giggled.

We stood side by side, an arm wrapped around each other's back as we watched Jack attempt to play catch with his sister.

"Why don't we make another one, then?" Arvin suggested.

I looked at him with raised brows, "If you want to push one out of your ass, then by all means let's do it."

He chuckled, "I'm serious, y/n."

I turned to face him and he wrapped his arms around my waist while I played with the bottom of his hair.

"Another baby girl or boy? With a dog?" I laughed.

"Yeah...I mean it's crazy but it's our crazy." He smirked.

"Hmm, depends how nice you treat me tonight." I bit my lip.

He held back a shit-eating grin, "Oh...you're so gettin' knocked up tonight."

I gasped, smacking his chest with a laugh.

"I love you." He smiled.

"I love you, too."

"Forever?" He quipped.

"And ever." I smiled.

And we meant it.

-

A/N: oh my god. that's the mini-series done! i loved writing for Arvin it was fun with the southern dialogue and the 60s time period! i hope you all enjoyed reading as much as i enjoyed writing. If you'd like to request any one shots, head over to my instagram @tomholland1510 to request!

ALSO!! bonus points to anyone who understands the easter eggs in the kids' names! do they seem familiar? ;)

-

{Tags: @notandordinaryprincess96 @imagine-yourself-happy​}

[heyheyloki]

Why Stop Now

Summary: Reid starts getting jealous when witnesses start to hit on the reader.

Spencer Reid x M!Reader

Word Count: 2677

The case before the BAU team was getting tedious, to say the least. It was one of those cases that needs witnesses to actually get a step ahead of the unsub who left basically no evidence behind. It was surely pissing off the team, but it pissed you off the most. You were someone who needed control, someone who couldn’t stand the taunts of others. That was profiled about you when you first joined, but you didn’t have a probably showing that side of you off at times. So, at that point it was just a simple fact that surrounded your complex personality.

“This shit sucks,” You hissed out as you slammed your hands against the table, looking at the pictures of the victims. Searching eyes hoping, praying that you had for once missed something. “This is seriously pissing me off.”

“You know you didn’t miss anything. I don’t know why you’re looking at them.” A voice called out from behind you. The footsteps they took now clear as day as you watched Spencer Reid come to your side. 

“You’re only going to stress yourself out.” He said in a sweet, mellow tone that made you take in a few deep breaths. 

“I know,” you uttered out before turning to him. One hand still on the table to hold your weight. “I just want to help these girls and I can’t do that until I find more things out about our unsub.”

Reid’s face leaned to the side a bit. A small frown on his lips as he stared at you with soft, kind eyes. “I know you do, but you aren’t going to get anything more from them.”

You press your lips together, frustrated at the situation before you. “So what? I have to wait for another woman to die to catch this son of a bitch? 

Reid looks down for a moment before saying softly, “Well, we have another witnesses in here, Hotch asked me to come find you.”

“Again?” You asked in a groan. “Please don’t tell me they’re gonna make goggly eyes more at me than actually answer the questions.”

“That’s why Hotch asked me to get you. He wants you to ask them some questions.” Reid informed you. “I’ll stay with you, if you want.”

You gave a soft smile at the taller male before you pressed your hand against his shoulder, rolling it down before making soft motions with your thumb against his chest. “You’re sweet. I appreciate it, Spence.”

He nodded his head, grabbing your hand that flushed against him. He squeezed it a few times as you watched the most faint blush you’ve seen on him appear against his pale cheeks. It was heart-warming that you were still able to make him blush the way he does by such a simple expression of affection, especially since you’ve been together for a little more than a couple of months now.

“It’s no problem.” He stated before quickly leaning in and planting a soft kiss against your cheek. A giggle immediately coming from your chest as soon as you felt his hot lips against your cool skin. In all honestly, physical contact at work between the two of you was never a thing. Even by if it was just the two of you at yours or Spence’s place, the most you guys did was a kiss here or a few cuddles there. And honestly, you had to make the moves a couple of times given Spencer and his issue with physical contact. He did get used to your touch fairly quickly though, and he enjoyed it. 

When you both approached the witnesses that was sitting near your desk, she looked you up and down, the look in her orbs pure lust. She was a short woman with voluptuous build. She wore a simple white crop top, sporting high waist jeans. It was obvious what kinda aura she gave off. It was both responsible, yet at the same time, someone who liked to have fun.

The ends of her lips quickly churning up at the side of you. Her legs quickly crossed over one another, her mouth slightly open as she chewed her gum.

Spence immediately read her like a book, but he tried not to show his growing irritation. He knew you were good-looking, and he knew people would look. Though, it was just annoying at how much it was happening at one day. Especially at work.

“Hello, ma’am.” You said with a smile before introducing yourself. Your hand then gesturing to your boyfriend before saying, “And this is Doctor Spencer Reid. We’ll be taking your statements today.”

The lady didn’t respond at first, but instead take in your handsome features for a moment before saying, “You can take a lot more then just my statement, baby.”

You gave a soft chuckle as you cupped the back of your neck. It did catch you a bit off guard, but not so much any more since this has been happening for around three hours now. You did, for some reason unknown to you, look over at Spence. The look in his eyes made you frown. It wasn’t anger, but rather, extreme discomfort.

“Right,” you hummed out before sitting on the edge of your desk. Spence taking a step to move closer to your side.

“Can you take me from the beginning? What did you see?” You asked in a stern toning, telling her not to play around anymore.

Her eyes played with yours for a moment before agreeing to answer your questions. It was okay at first, she didn’t seem all that distracted like the others before with your presence, but after getting mid-way into her story, her hand started to dance along your desk. It was obvious how close it was getting to your thigh, both to Spencer and you.

It was like a spider trying to go after its prey. Overall, it was uncomfortable, but you knew you had to focus on her story before even thinking about her hand. It’s one thing if it was just approaching, but another if it actually touches you.

“I mean, the dude was weird, sure, but I didn’t think he’d be kidnapping and killin’ girls, yanno?” She asked, her fingers creeping their way across on your outter thigh.

Your body flinched on instinct for just a moment before you immediately moved your leg, now standing up next to Spence. You could see the small disappointment in her face, but you could honestly care less. You got her story, so now you were finished. At least, that’s what you thought.

“Thanks again, ma’am.” You stated with a kind smile for Hotchner’s sake. You then took out your card that held your number and name, moving it in her direction as you said, “If you think of anything else, doesn’t hesitate to call.”

She gazed at the card for a second before taking it. And while normal people would take it right away, she held on and swiftly moved her hand to touch your own. Her thumb moving in circle, suggestive movement along the top of your hand. You didn’t know if she caught on that you already were taken and trying to do it discreetly since the card was in the way, or just doing it for the fun of it.

“Believe me, sugar, you’ll get a call from me.” She stated in a seductive tone. “You don’t mind some calls at, well, before bedtime, right?”

Then, she did that and it was like everything stopped. Both for Spence and you.

She smirked.

It was one of those smirks that really made something turn within you that was pure fear mixed with uneasiness. The uneasiness coming from your wonder on how Spence was doing. You knew he had trust in you, as you did him. Though, even you would break under all this reckless flirting. Especially at the work place where it was unprofessional to engage in public displays of affection.

“No, sorry, ma’am.” You stated sternly. Your face devoid of any sweetness you might have shown before. “Please, just anything related to this case and nothing else.”

You watched carefully as a bitter sense took her over before she stood up abruptly and said, “Fine.”

And with that, she left. Honestly, you felt so relived that you let out a deep sigh from your lips, unaware of how much air you kept built up in your lungs.

“Glad that’s over,” you huffed out. Your body turning to face Spence, your mouth hanging out a bit to speak once more. Though, when you saw his face, it was like your veins became invaded with ice. You couldn’t move, and if you did, you felt like you’d break.

His eyes blasted directly into yours, almost completely shutting down your sharp-mouthed tongue that got you into trouble with Hotch frequently. They didn’t carry anger, nor sadness. It was something that made your chest tighten, knees completely weak. It made your heart skip a beat, almost breaking a rib with how hard it pounded for that split moment.

“Spence?” You mumbled out. “Something wrong?”

“They kept making passes at you,” he uttered out. His voice barely even audible.

“They did.” You stated. You didn’t know where this was going.

“And I was right here. Right in front of them. Next to you. It was like they didn’t even care if they were making a move on you while I was around.” Spence ranted on, his tone of voice growing more and more irritated as he went one.

“Spence, I don’t think she even knew I was dating someone. Much less having that person be standing right next to me.” You explained kindly. You get how he felt, you did. So, you just planned on trying to make him feel better in any way you could.

Though, as you were about to step forward and maybe grab his hand to reassure him that everything was still alright, he moved first. His tall figure stood right in front of you, barely even a foot away. His face slowly inching towards you despite where you both were.

“Come with me for a second,” he whispered, his hand slowly moving down your arm, that feeling alone causing goosebumps to graze your skin before he held your hand within his. 

“Okay.” You agreed, wondering what you were even doing. 

He didn’t even have a smile perk up on his lips when you agreed, but instead stared you up and down. Slowly, carefully his eyes traveled your body. You shied your head away as you let Spence lead you into the changing rooms the officers use in the morning after their shift was over. 

You noticed Spence make sure no one was inside before his long, slender fingers locked the door. You couldn’t help but remain still, trying to wrap your head around his sudden change in demeanor. You knew he was jealous, it was obvious to anyone. But it was odd at the same time since he was never one to start much of anything, still, in the end when he backed you into the lockers, you weren’t complaining much. 

“Spence, you sure?” You mumbled under your breath as you flickered your eyes between his own and those soft lips that slowly approached yours.

He didn’t answer you with words, but instead gave you answer when he pressed his lips against your own. You were quick to wrap your arms around his neck, taking one of your hands and lacing it through his long, curly locks and the other resting on the base of his jaw. You thought it would be a few sweet kisses and than back to work, maybe even some jealous words, but the moment he started to play with the end of your shirt you knew this was going in a completely different direction. 

To keep his lips to yours you moved your hand that rested on his jaw over to his own, guiding his hand under your clothes. You groaned into the kiss at the sudden chill that ran up your spine when your hot skin collided with his rather chilly fingertips. It was an intoxicating feeling, one that made you desire more. 

When he got the hint that you were okay with his touch, you noticed how quick the atmosphere changed. Within mere seconds he started to push himself more against you, giving you little room to escape with your back flat against the lockers and him on you as well. 

Spencer’s hand start to slide more up your body, feeling every inch of you that he desired. His touch was both full of affection yet the lust you noticed as well was undeniable. It was as if he revealed something that he had kept hidden within himself for a long time now, and you were happy that he felt like he could share that side of himself with you. 

Though, as the sinful urges started to start showing their true colors, the need for air started to dominate. When Spencer unlocked his lips from your own, your breath got stuck in your throat. The look in his eyes was nothing to just brush off as passion. It was like something darker took over, something that he needed to chain down almost all the time. His chestnut orbs held a film over them that was swirling with red, as well as a need that only you could fulfill. 

In a swift movement, Spence’s head moved lower, his lips aiming at something different this time around. A soft gasp escaped past you when you felt his lips latch onto your neck, kissing, biting, and sucking at your skin. It felt good, so good that you suddenly moved one of your legs up and wrapped it around his hips. His free hand that wasn’t exploding your body gripped onto your thigh, holding it in place. 

The more he ravished you, the louder you got. At first it was simple heavy breathing but you swore he was aiming at all of the weak spots on your neck and collarbones that turned you into a mess before him. Though, you didn’t think you were so loud for him to suddenly growl, “Try to keep quiet. We don’t want to get caught.”

Your eyes widened a bit before you leaned your head to the side shyly. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’s not like I don’t enjoy hearing you,” he mumbled, his words peaking with more embarrassment than a pure teasing tone.

You nodded, your hands moving down his back and gripping hard onto his shirt as you allowed yourself to be swallowed up by the pleasure he was giving you. You really don’t remember how much time passed, maybe a few minutes, maybe ten. Still, by the time both of you calmed down and made sure to get your fill from the other, someone started to knock on the locked door. 

Both of you two looked at each other, some fear running through your orbs before hearing the familiar voice of Derek Morgan say, “If you two don’t hurry up, Hotch will find out and get mad.”

“Shit,” you groaned as you tried your hardest to flatten out your now disheveled shirt. 

“Sorry about that,” Spence said shyly as he scratched the back of his head, wondering if he should try to help you or not.

You let out a deep sigh before planting a soft kiss on Spence’s cheek, his face heating up in a mere seconds. “It’s okay. C’mon, we should get back to work.”

“Right..” His voice trailed off in a shy manner, his fingers lacing with yours once more as he returned the favor. This time, placing a soft and chaste kiss upon your lips. It was full of love and affection, something that made you hum lovingly into. 

“Hopefully we don’t get anymore witnesses.” You groaned as you walked ahead, flattening your hair. 

Spence couldn’t help but laugh at your words before following behind you back into the professional setting. Luckily for the both of you, Hotch never found out, or he made it seem like he had no idea. Still, you had your doubts since Morgan and Garcia were almost relentless in teasing your boyfriend and you for a straight week. 



[terrm9]

Father’s Day

Ethan makes sure to celebrate the Father’s Day with his daughter. (Ethan X Chiara X Matilda)

Words count: 4 000

Warnings: two swear words, fluff

Author’s note: I don’t know what happened here guys. I am so sorry, this fic lacks plot and point, depth, quality, this truly is one fluffy piece of shit. I had a good feeling about it when the idea appeared in my brain and then I started to write and nothing seemed right. And I just kept telling myself ‘just keep writing and it will start making sense. It will get better’... and suddenly the fic is finished and it still doesn’t make sense. I was so close to not posting it, but then I thought that sometimes mindless fluff can make my mood better and so maybe it can do some good to you too. Love you all and I promise I won’t be angry or hurt if you hate this:D

Also Ethan is ~47 in this fic, if you thought I wouldn't mention his graying hair, I am sorry but I did

Also also, I didn't find the strength needed for a proof reading this and so I didn't proof read it. If you see a mistake, please pretend you don't see it

The sun was long set at the time Ethan stepped into the apartment and even though he rationally knew that it was late, he couldn’t quite give up on his hope that maybe Matilda was still up. On the days like this, when more patients came in than out of the hospital and there was so much of a paperwork that he has to bring it home with him, there is nothing Ethan loved more than to put his daughter to sleep and then spend a nice quiet evening with Chiara.

But of course, Matilda was fast asleep – judging by the silence filling the whole apartment – and so Ethan was looking forward to skipping to the part of sharing an evening with his wife.

Chiara didn’t notice him as he stepped into the living room, her nose slightly crinkled as she was filling some papers spread on the dining table, white earpods in her ears.

Looks like I am not the only one to bring work home with me today.

Ethan stopped in his tracks for a moment, just inhaling the familiar scent of Chiara and home and absorbing the picture in front of him. Even after alsmot ten years since he met her for the first time, even though she was his wife now, someone he woke up next to every morning, Chiara still – always – managed to knock the air out of his lungs. How her smile only gained more brightness through the years and how she looked almost like a girl with her hair braided on one side.

Had he been an artist, he would call her his muse.

But he was just a man, a doctor with any artistic words stuck in his throat and so he just kept staring at Chiara and thought, inspiration, that’s what she was, because even the most rational of men could get inspired.

„I can feel you standing there,“ Chiara exclaimed suddenly, putting the earpods off and turning to him with that bright smile.

„My apologies,“ he smiled faintly and crossed the distance between them to give her, what Chiara called ‚a proper greeting‘. He kissed her softly and it only took the feeling of Chiara’s warm body under his hands to ease the tension in him almost completely.

„Matilda missed you tonight,“ Chiara murmured into his chest, not willing to break their embrance.

„As I missed her,“ Ethan sighed. „Did you have an eventful afternoon?“

Chiara chuckled at that, parting from him at last to switch her phone off and leave the work on the dining table.

„Just the usual. The teacher asked them to draw themselves in the future and she couldn’t decide which version of that future she should draw because she wants to be everything.“

Ethan could imagine the conversation very well. Matilda, at the age of five, knew exactly what she didn't want to become when she grows up - a doctor. She kept shifting between wishing to be a travel blogger like her aunt Kyra or a photographer like aunt Alicia. After a weekend spent in Providence, she proclaimed that she could also imagine being a cable repairwoman like grandpa, because grandpa has the coolest coworkers that came over and let her eat chocolate cookies and watch football with them. And if by any unfortunate coincidence she should become a doctor after all, she would definitely be a surgeon like uncle Bryce, because he actually cuts people and that's much more interesting than her parents' job. All they do is talk about the patients.

„I promised her you would take her to school tomorrow. You have rounds in the morning but I can taker over,“ which would only be a service for you, she thought to herself. „That would certainly make her feel better.“

„Was she that sad that I didn’t come home earlier?“

"Oh, she was more sad about the Father's Day program at her school – you know, the one where kids and their dads go together - but I explained her why you had to miss it."

Ethan furrowed his brows, confused for a while.

"Why do I have to miss it?" he asked as he picked Matilda's stuffed llama from the floor.

"It's the Wednesday when you are at the conference in Seattle."

Ethan put the toy on the couch next to Til's favourite blanket and sat down before responding, his voice carrying no sign of hesitation.

"If there's a Father's Day program at her school and she wants me to be there, I'll be there."

Ethan knew all too well why he was so persistent on being there.

He wished he didn’t know, but he did.

Because he knew what it felt like to spend so many of his Mother’s Days programms with his teeth gritted, wishing it could all just end.

He could still remember the first Mother’s Day without Luise, how his teacher walked into the class and told them that they would create nice postcards for their moms and how Ethan’s classmate pointed his finger at him and said: „And what is Ramsey going to do? It’s not fair that he doesn’t need to do anything for the whole hour.“

It was the first time Ethan punched someone.

There was no way, no way, that he would allow his daughter to feel any of those feelings.

His thoughts were interrupted by Chiara, now sitting right next to him, a soft concern visible on her features.

„Alan and Naveen would go with her, you know. She wouldn’t be alone.“

„I am her father.“

„And you are also an author of the study this whole conference is going to be about.“

Ethan knew Chiara was right, just as he knew that she was doing this not because she didn’t want him to attend the programm, rather because she respected and supported his career.

But her arguments were of no use. Ethan’s mind was made up and he only wondered if this is what it felt like, all those years ago, when he pushed Chiara away in order to support her career. The idea of putting career first was making him uncomfortable and all he could do was to think, how did Chiara see it all those years ago?

Or rather, how did he not see it back then?

He had no answers, only his gratitude that she stayed and showed him the world through her eyes.

„Aurora is just as much of an author as me. She can handle the conference without me just fine. You can go with her.“

„Me?“ Chiara asked incredulously.

„Sure. They don’t really care which Dr. Ramsey will come.“

Ethan aged well. More wrinkles circled the corners of his eyes and the grey hair on his temples were not an optical illusion anymore (and Chiara has never found him more handsome than now) and his gaze changed too, the cold blue of his eyes almost forgotten, as his eyes were warm and soft almost all the time he was with his family.

Ethan aged and changed and yet there was a thing that didn’t change in the slightest in these last years. His insufferable stubborness.

And so Chiara knew that he won’t change his mind and that there was no point in trying to and while it warmed her heart to see how in love with Matilda Ethan was, the study was important to him.

Obviously not important enough, however, and Chiara decided not to push him any further. Instead, she asked curiously.

„And what are you going to perform? What if Matilda wants to do something crazy?" Chiara raised an eyebrow.

"Of course she won't want anything crazy. What if it were my father and Naveen taking her?"

Chiara laughed wholeheartedly at his question, because for someone so brilliant, sometimes Ethan was desperately clueless when it came to people around him - and what they were willing to do for their daughter.

"Please, this is Naveen and Alan you are talking about. Matilda could say she wants to sing Hakuna Matata and they would come dressed as Timon and Pumba."

"Ah," Ethan exhaled, obviously only now realizing that Chiara was, indeed, right. And singing - or dancing, for God's sake - was not part of his plan. "Well, she can play some basic compound on the piano, she has learned some already. And I could accompany her on the cello."

Chiara choked on the water she was just drinking, turning to look at Ethan so swiftly, his brows furrowed in a concern for her neck.

"On a what now?"

“A cello. I thought you knew that I used to play the cello as a kid.”

��Of course, but the as a kid part is important. I mean, I played a piano as a kid and now I couldn’t play Twinkle Twinkle Little Star if my life depended on it.”

Ethan laughed, wrapping his arm around Chiara in a half-hug and had to bite his tongue not to tell her that maybe Matilda could teach her, as she already could play Twinkle Twinkle Little Star exceptionally well.

“I might have stopped playing actively when I was ten, but I found a certain sense of serenity in music – and playing – for a long time after that. I-,” Ethan stopped himself, mulling over his next words. It was not like he didn’t want to tell Chiara anything, but talking about his years at med school was not something he did often. “I befriended a music shop’s owner back in Baltimore. He was a nice guy, barely older than me and so very different. He had musical instruments for sale there and as we became closer, he let me borrow the cello and play a little in the back of the shop. It became a thing that helped me clear my head when school became too stressful and it also helped me not to forget how to play. I think Matilda’s level on the piano is very close to what I can remember with the cello.”

Now all he had to do was to find someone who would borrow him the cello.

*** *** ***

Ethan always found it amusing, how his mornings with Matilda differed compared to Matilda’s mornings with Chiara.

He made sure to wake her up earlier than usual, so that they could cook breakfast together and have some time to spare.

Chiara – the person that hated mornings more than eggplants – did all she could to stay in bed for as long as possible. She would rather prepare Matilda’s breakfast in the evening and run to the school than wake up before 6 AM.

And it seemed like Matilda realized this difference quite soon, for all the times Ethan came to wake her up, she knew she could ask him to join her in bed for a few minutes.

"Hey, little Rookie," Ethan whispered, softly stroking Matilda's curls out of her forehead so that he could press a gentle kiss on it. "Time to wake up. We don't want to be late for school."

The little Rookie nickname was first used when Til was perhaps one year old and it made her giggle so hard Ethan kept using it. Chiara found it extremely funny, always pointing out that Matilda was nothing if not Ethan’s exact copy – and she was right. With her big blue eyes and long curly dark hair, there was no doubt that she was Ethan’s daughter. Not that the similarities ended in her physical appearence – she was phenomenally subborn for a five year old (to which Ethan always argued that she could as well inherit that from Chiara) and sarcasm was her second language. She also might have used ‚fuck‘ once or twice and Ethan knew it’s not Chiara she heard that from.

You should call her little Terminator, Chiara always teased and partly, she was right.

But there were many traits and marks of Chiara in their daughter, marks not so visible but unmistakely hers. How Matilda’s smile was always bright and warm and sincere, something only Chiara could pass on. How she came home one day from school and asked Ethan if he could make cupcakes with her, because her classmate loves cupcakes but his parents are too busy to make them for him and so she would love to bring him some to school. How she appreciated the most common of things, like sun shining because it makes her skin warm and also rain falling because she can jump in the puddles. Her genuine curiosity and open heart and just her general need to make people around her feel good.

That was all Chiara’s mark and Ethan loved his two girls so much it sometimes still surprised him. That he was capable of such love.

It also made him want more sometimes. More people to love that much.

„Snuggle time, please?“ Matilda smiled, her eyes still closed and Ethan was prepared, he knew this request would come and so he didn’t even need to check the watch to know that he could lay down next to her, the tiny bed making his position rather awkward.

He snuggled Matilda from behind and between her slow stirs as she began to wake up and his soft kisses put on the back of her head, he whispered how excited he was to attend the Father’s Day program with her.

*** *** ***

Ethan didn’t even need to try hard to persuade Matilda that a piano-cello duet would be better to perform than a dance. She liked the idea from the beginning and after going through her music sheets with Chiara, she happily exclaimed that they could try to learn Hedwig’s Theme together. Her eyes were bright and full of excitement and Ethan knew the decision was already made, because he couldn’t resist that face.

And so they performed and for a girl who was five and her father, who was almost fifty, they did a great job. Seeing Matilda’s pure, unadultered joy and excitement and so much gratitude that her dad could be there with here, was something Ethan would consider one of the best moments of his life forever.

Tillie was almost jumping up and down with the happiness as they watched her classmates and their fathers or grandfathers or mothers in some cases or maybe even uncles perform their numbers. She was clapping hard after every single one and she kept waving at everyone, her smile so wide Ethan thought for a while that she resembled Bryce more than anyone. The thought made him chuckle, because Matilda would love to hear that, as Bryce was her hero and possibly the best person she could spend her sleepovers at.

Ethan could hardly say that he enjoyed being surrounded by so many people, but he sincerely did enjoy spending the day with his kid. He didn’t regret choosing making a fool out of himself in front of bunch of kids instead of the conference. He almost forgot about the conference altogether until Aurora’s call interrupted the bustle full of laughter around them.

She only called him to let him know that all went well and she was off to have a lunch with other diagnosticians that helped with the study.

"Yes, alright. I'll see you on Monday. Good job, Aurora," Ethan put the phone back into his pocket and turned to Matilda.

"I am sorry you missed the conference because of me, dad."

Ethan knelt down so that he could face his daughter, the very same blue eyes he knew from mirrors, looking back at him, wide and curious.

He smiled softly, kissing Matilda's forehead before responding.

"I am not. No conference is that important, and just between the two of us," Ethan lowered his voice and put his best serious face on, causing the mischievous sparks ignite in Tillie's eyes "Conferences are so boring. You saved me from a torture."

She giggled and threw her arms around Ethan's neck, squeezing him as hard as a five years old could.

"Now let's go, I think there's an ice cream that needs to be eaten."

"But daddy you said ice creams are sugar bomb!"

Ethan chuckled at her shocked expression - not sure is it was a genuine one or an act - and took her little hand into his.

"I'll pretend I don't see you eating it."

Matilda squealed and before her ‚no sugar in this house‘ dad could change his mind, she stormed off in the direction of the ice cream truck.

Before she could reach her destination, however, she stopped in her tracks and tugged on Ethan’s sleeve, pointing at the little girl sitting under one of the trees – alone.

„That’s Dorothy! She is my best friend.“

Yes, Ethan remembered Matilda mentioning Dorsey, her best friend, quite often, but he never got a chance to meet her before. The girl was tiny, much smaller than Matilda – which inherited Ethan’s significant height, too – her hair almost white and her eyes similar to Matilda’s, big and blue but not even close to being as bright.

„She doesn’t have a dad,“ Matilda added, her voice much less excited now. „She didn’t want to come here but her mom has to be at work.“

Ethan’s heart tightened at her words, the description of Dorothy’s situation reminding him of his own when he was a kid way too much.

„Why don’t you go and ask her to join us for an ice cream?“ Ethan smiled at Matilda faintly.

Before he could as much as blink, Matilda was gone and in the very next moment, both girls were back, smiling up at him, his own kid widely and Dorothy very shyly.

„Hello, Dorothy,“ Ethan knelt down and smiled at her encouragingly. „I am Ethan. It is my pleasure to meet you, Matilda talks about you a lot.“

„Hello,“ Dorothy muttered, not meeting his eyes and Ethan noticed she was holding Matilda’s hand.

Without any other word, he stood up and led both girls to find an ice cream truck, only half-listening to what they were talking about – enough to recognize that Dorothy was much more open when talking to Matilda, but not enough to register particular words.

Maybe that’s why Matilda’s next question took him off the guard.

„Right, daddy? I was just telling Dorsey that you could be her dad, right? And I would be her sister!“

Ethan’s eyes widened and before he could find the right words – gentle but also firm enough to explain that that’s not exactly how these things work, Matilda spoke again.

„She could come over anytime and we could have sleepovers like the ones I have with uncle Bryce or grandpa and we would play together and I could borrow her my toys, right?“

Ethan nodded and smiled, of course Dorothy is always welcome to stay at our place, and let the topic go, because there was nothing wrong about his daughter having best friend that would come over.

Thirty minutes later, all three of them sat at the grass and ate their ice creams and it was easy to forget the previous converstaions.

*** *** ***

Until he came into his office, a week after the Father’s Day and found Chiara waiting for him, her arms crossed at her chest and her expression unusually stoic.

Before he could ask what was wrong, Chiara spoke.

„Matilda’s teacher just called.“

„What?“ Ethan stepped closer, automatically reaching into his pocket to make sure his phone, wallet and car keys are there and he is ready to leave and pick up Matilda at any moment. „Is something wrong? Is she in trouble? Sick?“

„She is absolutely alright,“ Chiara shook her head sligthly, her face unreadable – something that scared Ethan more than her visible anger. „She just called me to let me know about the rumors going around Matilda’s class these past few days. She thought it would be better if I found out from her rather than from other parents.“

„Rumors?“ Ethan asked, utterly lost and confused.

It took all the willpower Chiara had not to let her facade slip and keep her expression neutral. But teasing Ethan was one of her main hobbies, even after ten years, and so she tried her best.

„Apparently, Matilda and Dorothy Wilkins told everyone that they are in fact sisters. They have different mommies but the same dad – no other than the famous Dr. Ramsey,“ now, it was really hard not to laugh. Ethan’s whole face paled and the confusion was quickly replaced by recognition. „The other kids shared the news with their parents and now those parents talk.“

Ethan didn’t know that Matilda told Chiara about her idea of Ethan becoming Dorothy’s dad the very same evening she shared it with Ethan himself and even though Chiara tried to explain why that idea is not going to work the way the wished it would, Matilda was stubborn. Meaning, Matilda adopted Dorothy as her sister anyway and didn’t mind sharing her dad with her.

„Fuck,“ Ethan whispered, pacing around the office, not really looking up at Chiara.

If he did, he would catch her grinning.

She cleared her throat quickly and added: „Some of the parents came to tell the poor teacher that they appreciate how civil the mothers of Matilda and Dorothy are about the whole thing and that it must’ve taken much strength of our spirits to put out kids into same school.“

She couldn’t anymore. The first chuckle escaped her and when Ethan’s eyes met hers, the mischievous sparks were dancing on full display in her irises, her smile wide and so amused.

Ethan exhaled a sigh full of relief and rolled his eyes and when he looked at Chiara again, she was laughing softly, badly trying to cover her laugh with the hand over her mouth.

The bizarreness of the whole situation and his wife’s reaction made Ethan laugh too and he slumped down on the couch, pulling Chiara with him.

„We should give some kind of explanation, right?“ he whispered when they both calmed down.

„Oh, I don’t know. I am the civil one,“ Chiara smirked smugly. „And with a strong spirit!“

Ethan laughed again at that, thinking about how any kind of rumors about him and Chiara startled him in the beginning of their relationship and how over the years, Chiara managed to teach him to just let people talk.

„She really wants that sibling, huh?“ Chiara broke the silence, poking his side softly.

„Yes, she does,“ Ethan nodded.

„And you would...want that too, right?“ Chiara asked again, this time much more seriousness in her voice.

Both Chiara and Ethan were decided to adopt a child back in the days they believed they would never have their own. After Matilda was born, they didn’t really talk about it anymore – they felt too blessed, too lucky that they’ve gotten her and they were happy.

But the thoughts of adoption never truly left their heads and Chiara knew that especially Ethan considered the option often. She could see him talking to Matilda when she asked for a sister or a brother for her birthday, she saw the dreamy smile as they spoke about little kids.

And it was not like she was against the idea of adopting a child – quite the opposite. She grew up with two siblings and her brother and sister were one of the best parts of her childhood. She wished she could give Matilda the same feeling, the same love she recieved at her age. She just felt like she would be asking for too much, like it would be selfish to want another little human that would make them happy, when they already had one.

Those thoughts were not rational, but they were there and they slowed her decisions down.

„Yes, I would,“ Ethan nodded after a long while, looking straight into Chiara’s eyes.

He would never push her. But he wouldn’t lie either.

Chiara nodded and leaned in to press a soft kiss on Ethan’s mouth, pouring her emotions into it, her excitement with the idea just as strong as her anxiety.

Deep down, she knew that the decision has just been made. That no matter how openly they talked about it or expressed themselves, all three Ramseys wished to share their love and happiness with another soul.

[blushing-starker]

Anon asked for alpha Peter and omega Tony for a baby announcement. Thank you to the wonderful @vaguekiwi for motivating me and sharing her thoughts on the story. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did, anon.

"Tony, Tony? Are you up? It's 7:30am already, you have a meeting with Miss Potts in forty minutes. Tony?"

Soft hands curl into already silver hair, scratching at the strands in an attempt to wake him up gently. Butterfly kisses on a cold nape, a ridiculously hot nose nuzzling everywhere. Peter knows scenting the billionaire is basically the only way one can ensure a calm morning.

Not today. And not for the next few months either.

He loves his husband, appreciates the nearly romantic demeanor, he does. But "unless you have a cup of coffee for me, there is no way in hell i am gonna leave this bed. your child has kept me up with nausea the entire night. I wanna hurl my guts out more than that time Rhodes found Dad's liquor cabinet. please, tell me you have coffee."

"..." Tony is severely displeased by the fact he can read Peter like a book even with half his mind shut off because fine, he's right and dammit all.

"I want that weird drink you make. The one with milk, cinnamon and chunks of brownie. And French toast with waffles. No jam, not too much butter, as much sugar as possible. Now, go before I scream at you for having the only dick that could get a hormone fucked forty something omega pregnant. "

The kid scrambles from bed, practically face plants with all the covers tangling long legs and yup, this is the person that the universe designated as his soulmate. Because Tony Stark can never have a partner with a reasonable, normal amount of enthusiasm, stamina and a sense of balance.

That sounds like he's ungrateful, he's not. But it turns out being three months pregnant gives him plenty of perspective to peer at life in a whole new way that does not include caffeine, alcohol or sex.

Would he kill and die for this amazing human being that makes Tony's heart race no matter the day, that inspires him to be a better version of himself? Yes, no questions asked. No hesitation and no regret.

Would he clobber Peter for doing the impossible and technically causing Tony incredible discomfort on a daily basis thanks to what his doctors can only assume is a superhuman baby he already loves and adores more than life itself? Also yes.

Things aren't mutually exclusive in this household.

Pep, bless her, has yet to find out about their future mini Parker so there's been no respite on the whole 'running a multi billion dollar industry ' thing. And yeah, while it's not exactly easy, he can focus on other things and not fall into a panicky state of mind — because him? A father? Of a super baby? Tony Stark, infamous playboy with a hedonistic streak, a dad?

Just thinking along those lines makes shame and self doubt slither over a metallic plate. Working, dealing with innovative scientists, crafting the new world of tomorrow, guaranteeing the safety of their planet, shapeshifting into a role model, a mentor (for the interns and school kids he visits, not Peter, of course, thank God they left that dynamic ages ago), loyal friend, reluctant errand boy (fuck the assholes in charge of the Accords), great husband, good man, it all distracts a fearful child from thinking, what if I turn into Howard?

"I couldn't find brownies, so cookies it is! Aunt May had a few boxes sent in when I told her work was keeping you on your feet all the time. Said it'd be a good idea to snack along the day in case you—" Peter freezes, tenses with a not-so-narrow back held ramrod straight. Oh, his husband brought him breakfast in bed.

How could he ever think to clobber such a nice, wonderful—

"Your scent is odd."

"Yeah, well fuck you too then."

Five seconds of silence.

"I'm bringing you one cup of coffee and the hormone pills."

" Yup, that's a great idea. "

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

Tony’s mumbo jumbo with self loathing is firmly put on the back burner after inhaling a delicious breakfast and chugging that one glorious cup of coffee. Until they go to the bathroom and he sees himself in the mirror.

"We gotta tell them."

"You said you wanted to wait a while before saying anything."

Peter strips, ducks into the warm shower, lets out a pleased little sigh and Tony wants to rip his fingernails off. Is it bad, having sex while pregnant? No! The doctors, every single one of them, said it's a perfectly normal thing to do. It'd be bad if they didn't have sex because Tony, thanks to his crazy hormone production, needs the extra attention for his body to understand this is a happy process that shouldn't include sad pheromones or stressed out moments. Will Peter put him out of his misery and allow a quickie in the mornings? No.

"Take more than five minutes in that shower and I'm joining you."

Listen, he grew up in the 80's and 90's, Tony wasn't immune to peer pressure. Did he cave and eventually do so many squat competitions with Rhodey his butt turned into a duck's butt? There's no evidence, he's made sure, but yes. And Starks have always turned out to be beautiful, doesn't matter your gender or age. Finding a companion for the night has never been a problem for anyone in his family tree.

That, and his work as Iron Man has kept him — well, not ripped like Cap, certainly not as lean and (God help him) athletic as Peter, but fit. Sturdy. Firm. Solid. (Peter once muttered the words 'daddy-like' in regards to his body and he nearly choked on water.)

The passage of time has made him a bit slower, dusted once black hair with, as his husband says, stardust and the corners of his eyes now show how much time Tony spends laughing or frowning. All in all, he looks fucking spectacular for his age and experience as a villain-punching-bag. Thing is, he has a belly. A bump. A curve where it was once, well. Less curvy. Is it a problem for Peter? Nope, as acknowledged every time his alpha tackles him if he so much as looks oddly in the mirror. Is it a problem for him? He'll get back to you on that.

The point is, there's a belly when just a few months ago there wasn't such a pronounced belly. It's great, of course. Proof their child is growing steadily and Tony's body is adjusting to it accordingly. A small part of him, the omega part he actually lets live, is fascinated and proud. He's doing that, Tony's the one growing a human being, creating life out of nothing in his own body. That child, although not the only physical embodiment of their relationship, is a result of his love for Peter. Of how much his husband loves him. They love each other so much they're gonna start another family together. That chokes him up a bit, reminds him how grateful he is for Peter and for the other Avengers. If they hadn't been so accepting of his status, would he have ever considered going through with this?

Anyway, he's not gonna start sobbing this early in the morning when there's no alcohol involved. It's fantastic seeing his child develop, good, warm and fuzzy feelings, yada yada yada, it's also not very easy to hide. And Tony...Tony wanted to hide it from his family because.

Because Peter hasn't been the only partner in all his life that has wondered about a future with a white picket fence. Because when he was Peter's age, in his goddamn prime, a doctor, ten doctors, all the doctors told him the same thing, smashed his dream into a million pieces. Tony was nearly infertile. There was a one in a million chances of him getting pregnant. If he did, they couldn't be sure his body would be able to maintain two hearts. And then the cave happened.

So yeah. It happened to his cousins, his aunt, a few uncles, his grandmother. Tony would do a baby announcement, but only the second that baby was outside of him and safely in his arms. Now there are still several months left and nothing certain. But time is a bitch and beginning to show the world, maybe those extra pounds aren't from eating the Parker's amazing breakfasts.

"Tony, you know I don't wanna risk-" Losing control of my strength. They've been together long enough that Tony can see quite clearly between the lines.

"Hurting us, yeah, I know, I understand. I'm getting too wide, we're gonna have to tell them or Natasha will take one look at me and whoops, impromptu announcement from someone else. It's a miracle she was out on those missions when we found out." Thank God for renegade troops.

He's still looking at himself in the mirror when Peter comes out, barely dries up and slides behind him. His husband is slightly taller now, can easily hook a curved jaw on Tony's shoulder to peer at the image they make. Contrasts, he supposes, have always enthralled Tony. The study of light and shadow. Variations of the same basic components. Where his body is aging, showing signs of wear and tear, Peter's is evolving into something beautiful, majestic. Silver hair, chestnut brown. Scarred canvas, silky smooth and sunkissed skin. Soft, fragile curves, chiseled lines that deserve to be revered more than Michelangelo’s David. But their eyes, their eyes are equally tired.

“We can tell them if you want, have dinner together and just, just say it. Like that -”

“No. It's our kid, we're not gonna act like it's ripping off a band aid. This is special, unique. Dinner is good. Fantastic, actually. Wait for dessert, and announce it. “ Peter comes ever closer, wraps arms that could carry the world around him and how did he get so lucky?

They've lied to each other in the past. Mostly in the beginning, when they were too worried about hurting their new relationship to show their desires and wants. Tony didn't explain the Training Wheels Protocol. Peter tried to fight high level crime on his own. Things got hard to understand, like being in the right place at the wrong time. Puzzle pieces that didn't quite fit together, an extra inch of space prohibiting them from seeing all the possibilities that the truth could bring. They were walking the same path, just in parallel lines that never crossed.

But then he'd been rejected, thrown away and able to realize how fucking stupid it was to let Peter go when being near the kid, it felt like finally breathing after residing in the deep end of a pool for a thousand years. So Tony ran after him one day, crashed into his AP English class, half assed an excuse for the baffled teacher, yanked Peter out of the room and proceeded to have the best make out session of his life with his back against the kid's locker. And now they don't lie, ever.

Which is why it's so hard to accept Peter's, “You're beautiful, Tony. The handsomest man I've ever seen in my life. I loved you before, I love you now, I'll love you forever, Anthony Stark. You carrying our kid doesn't change that, how could it, Tony? It's going to be ok. The three of us will be ok and I won't stop thanking whoever decided I'd get to marry my wet dream.”

Scorching kisses trace his pulse point slowly, sharp nails start dragging against a too thin shirt, but it's the fact that Peter hasn't looked away from him, is confidently holding his gaze through the glass, that makes Tony shudder and stop breathing.

The bathroom is flooded with pheromones, cinnamon and honey assaulting an unprepared billionaire, and he'll die if they stay like this, can't function properly, brain switching gears, trying valiantly to remember baseball stats, past wounds, May's cooking because Peter's gonna wreck his sanity if those hands keep winding down, if those lips don't stop unraveling him like a Christmas present.

“If I'd known you'd get this handsy and romantic, I would have complained about how I look earlier." It's a gasp, half murmur, half plea as Peter grins at him shamelessly. “I know it's rude and wrong and sexist, but I like comforting my omega, acting like a stereotypical alpha. Makes me feel like I'm doing my job of making you happy. “

He quirks an eyebrow, is glad Peter can be comfortable enough to take the reins every once in a while. “You're telling me that assuring me I'm still drop dead gorgeous, “ his husband snorts, nips at Tony's shoulder for that quip, “ makes you horny because you feel like an alpha comforting, and I quote, ‘your omega’? “

Peter reverts back to the shy teenager who could barely ask a girl out to the homecoming dance, ducks his head into Tony’s neck with a blush quickly spreading over damp skin. “Well, I've got news for you, sweetheart. Your wet dream also thoroughly enjoys it so you better break tradition and have sex with me to remind me I'm the hottest man you've ever seen. "

He's actually serious about this, his self esteem hasn't exactly been, you know, the best and Tony's mood always improves significantly after playing around in bed with Peter. Besides, it's a sign of trust. Peter won't hurt him or their child, will be able to hold back his strength. He always does.

Listen, it's not exactly moral, but he has more than enough problems to go ahead and analyze his attraction and dependency on Peter while pregnant.

“So, I can distract you from your bad thoughts by acting sort of possessive and taking you to bed? " Oh, he adores when his husband is afraid of showing a new side of himself and asks for permission ever so sweetly.

“Babe, if you don't, I'll kick you out of the apartment. Give me possessive Peter Parker any day you want, like I'm gonna complain about a gorgeous, brilliant twenty something year old all over me. Now what's it gonna be, alpha dear, bathroom or bedroom? I wouldn't mind the tile but, oh God, I forgot you could pick me up." Tony clings to broad shoulders, can't help but laugh because aren't they a pair?

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

After having what he's sure was the best sex of his life, Tony stumbles out of the bedroom with torn clothes, a dazed look in his eyes and several bruises blossoming around his neck. Peter's halfway out the doorway when Tony whistles, makes sure all their family is paying attention, blurts out, “Peter and I are having a kid. I'm pregnant, woohoo, it's great, it's amazing, save your congratulations for later. We'll do a proper thing soon, if anyone interrupts and they're not dying, I'll kill you myself. See you in a few hours, " and yanks him back in while Friday activates Sock on the Doorknob Protocol.

Rhodey and Nat clink glasses while waiting on the others to pay up on their bets regarding Tony and Peter's odd behavior.

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

Later, much later, like, two days later, they have a proper dinner with their family in the tower. There are balloons and streamers, cake and ice cream, warm hugs and gentle cheek kisses, subtle tears and full on weeping (Happy had to borrow a box of Kleenex), pictures and videos and a pile of gifts taller than Tony.

The most important thing, though, is that the A.I recorded the reaction after Clint asked about baby names. He's grateful they went to the doctor before tonight. The visit revealed a treasure Tony thought he'd never have. Now it's time to reveal it to their pack.

His husband snuggles up to him, is so ecstatic the whole dining room smells like cinnamon and honey, like joyous love he'll never get enough of. Tony grins at him, curls their hands together and repeats the same thing over and over again in his head.

It'll be ok. They'll be ok. If the universe keeps giving Tony the greatest gifts he could ever want, maybe it's time he stopped looking at the horse's mouth. That's how it goes, right? Right.

He turns to look at Peter, loves him so much it aches, feels tiny feet pressing against his stomach. Guesses he's not the only one smitten with this incredible human being.

“We were thinking Marie,” Peter smiles at him, eyes lit up and lovely.

Tony is never going to forget this moment, this warmth in his chest.

“And Benjamin Parker-Stark.”

Their family loses their shit and both Friday and Karen have ample proof.

(@puppypeter look, omega tones! @tonystarkisaslut thank you so much for allowing me to use the prompt board! I am still accepting prompts! Although I can't guarantee getting them ready within a few days, I'll try to finish them on the one week mark depending on how long the fic is!)

[pompompurin1028]

Oh my God!! I had never thought of it that way, that’s awesome! Good catch, Kat :o

That is so true, we read Yozo’s life and deeds completely through his own eyes therefore we can’t treat it as an objective narrative. When this is combined with all the analyses you made yesterday, it’s all coming together and this is the best feeling ever, when I first read your response I went crazy with euphoria😭

And exactly! We can definitely distinguish these two narratives -Yozo’s and the woman’s- in the last scene under the sunset. Dazai, for some reason, always denies his good intentions and is “blinded to his better side” as you said and I totally adore this way of putting it. I really hope Atsushi will be able to bring him back to reality😔

I mean, of course he’s not the most snow white person out there, he still has really gray morals, but isn’t this already an incredible step considering that he was born in pitch black? He needs to see how much he’s achieved since then, but he still feels guilty and this totally blocks the good parts of his journey in his mind, which is probably why he always has that façade to keep him from breaking down. Just like how Yozo had this façade of “clowning” even though he was feeling empty inside all while entertaining people and seeming so cheerful. This clowning thing was a really beautiful parallelism between BSD Dazai and Yozo.

Exactly😭 For someone as traumatised as Atsushi, that poor cinnamon roll is really so precious with his amount of trust and kindness🥺 And yeah… There’s no way I would be able to 100% restore my trust for him -if I had it in the first place, of course, you never know with Dazai😂-, I would question constantly if he’s planning new things with several villains “for the sake of the city”, and this is just what Atsushi says, he denies this as well like what- then why😭 He owes a really good explanation to the ADA, tbh. I hope they treat this subject in S3 or I’ll get really mad if he just gets away with it as if people didn’t die because of his shenanigans😤

And oh my God! I never knew that! This is really intriguing, I’m totally on Dazai-sensei’s side on this matter, Run, Melos! will be so interesting to read :o And as always, I’d love to read your analysis on it😌

And that’s so true😞 His plans are always so complex and detailed that if the littlest thing goes wrong, it would all be over, I mean, trusting that Chuuya punches him in the face or he’ll die?? He’s really walking on thin ice there haha. Which, of course, comes with great stress. And omg I LOVED THAT ANALYSIS THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR SHARING💕 I reblogged it privately to come back to it whenever I start having doubts or feeling bad about Dazai which happened way too often even before Dead Apple, I just couldn’t keep a healthy relationship with him like I do with Kunikida I have no idea why this will really be a useful thing to come back to 💫 It pains me to see that how much he suffers in reality yet he’s not even able to acknowledge that it’s not his fault😞 (you can gimme all your analyses don’t be shy👀)

I’m planning on reading this one, it has several chapters and they all seem really explanatory. (I hope linking system works in asks🤔)

Exactly, I honestly used to miss all these about Akutagawa and just overlook him, consider him as a mere invincible rabid dog with an unhealthy obsession, whose ability is just to murder. But that’s not true at all, he’s more than his ability. To be honest, I think this movie made this sentence valid for everyone, especially if the ability is too strong, one always tends to consider them as their ability and nothing else, but that’s not true, their abilities are a part of them but they don’t assure their existence. Each one of them is more than their ability and I loved seeing that, I even felt sad when Aku regained his Rashōmon😭

Haha, always!!❤️ Never hesitate to share anything about any theory/headcanon you have, I love discussing them🥰

These asks and responses are getting longer and longer but I’m not complaining😂

Thank you so much!🥺 That makes me really happy that you said that!

And yes exactly! We have to make note that the novel is written in an I-novel narrative, and like all first person perspectives, they are unreliable. And "crazy with euphoria", that makes me so happy to hear😭💕

But yes, we can clearly see the distinct difference between how Yozo sees himself, vs how the woman sees him. (Side note: And one of the reasons why I love this book despite its dark themes and narratives, is that it talks about the goodness of humanity that still exists in even the worst people. Dazai-sensei's narration of Yozo is written in a way that almost makes us hate him. But we have to always be reminded that despite this, there are goodness, even in people like Yozo, which I felt is an amazing reminder) And his own blindness to his better side is obviously self-destructive, as seen in the novel, and I believe that if Dazai continues to see this way, he will not be able to heal despite following what Oda wants him to do. No, he first has to face his past, and as you said he has to recognize how far he has come, even though he is still learning, he is still changing. Like all other characters in Dead Apple, Dazai is also facing his past, or more so an introduction to having to face his past, as I believe that Atsushi had also said that he hopes that Dazai can put his past behind him or something similar to that. And I personally feel that Dazai would have a happy ending because unlike in the novel, he has someone (Atsushi) to remind him of his goodness, the fact that he can go beyond what he is in the past. I just love Dead Apple so much😭

And the clowning part breaks my heart too... In addition to being a facade to stop others from seeing how empty he is inside, which would deviate himself from being "human". It gives me a saddening understanding that Dazai is keeping everyone at a distance. Although he wants others to understand him, and his whole existence is basically a cry for help, he fears being hurt, or at least that's what I believe how Yozo thinks. And it should be noted that the act of clowning, can also be seen in The Setting Sun as well, which he once again uses a mask to attempt to blend into society, yet knowing that he'll still be different from the rest of them

Also one thing I also realized as I am writing this is how Dazai-sensei intentionally in a sense villanizes himself (as it is semi-biographical) as well as Yozo in No Longer Human, and I can't help but wonder if this is another parallel to Dead Apple?🤔

But unfortunately, the consequences of him making that meticulous plan which endangered everyone will not be resolved, as it should be noted that this is a sort of spinoff from the main storyline. But in a sense I like the ending it gave us, as it allows open interpretation. And I feel that it also might symbolize the fact that all the main characters in the movie are still growing, are still learning and are continuing on their paths to face their pasts... And what I think is also quite important to note that is there's also a sense of trust Dazai gives to the people involved in his plans, he trusts them to make that exact move to make his plan whole. And also, what also makes me sad is that Dazai seems to be asking for forgiveness for what he did during dead apple, at least that's what it sounds like to me as he said: "Atsushi what I did earlier-"

And I totally agree that it is impossible to restore full trust back to Dazai. That itself is impossible, for it is a disillusionment, it is a stage you cannot go back to. But and I agree with Dazai-sensei, I believe that this could help Dazai see the better parts of humanity like when he said to Oda, that the good side is really more beautiful.

And I'm so glad to know that you want to save it🥺 It can definitely be hard to see Dazai's good side at times, he is quite confusing and is easily misunderstood ngl. But sometimes I think he intentionally does that so no one can see through his true intentions, to keep himself at a distance, while at the same time wanting others to see through him, to help him😔

And oo thank you for the analysis! I'll definitely have to read it soon☺ Also if you have any analysis that you'd like to discuss or want me to know, feel free to drop them in my ask box as well!

And yes exactly! That about Aku is so beautifully said.

And honestly I'm not complaining either haha. These have been quite fun🥰

[crispyjenkins]

I dare you to write an Ani5 fix-it fic. I will not be taking criticism and will die on the hill that this is the most powerful ship and could’ve saved the entire clone wars. Bonus points if it features the ship Mace Windu/headaches (bc anakin is a walking mess of shatterpoints and lives to annoy Mace). Codywan to help knock some sense into anakin would also be top tier. I LOVE YOU ZEPH’BUIR

(of course i can’t do a whole fix-it in a quick prompt answer, but i think i’ve set it up for a far happier ending than in canon! support communication and education in relationships (ღ˘⌣˘ღ) and also adhd clones.

fives might be the most i’ve ever struggled with a character (‘cept maybe ahsoka....) so it took a little while to figure out how to write this scene in a way i liked. also, had to go and watch fives clips to try and get my autism brain working, and BOY HOWDY do i actually hate dbb’s take on the clones, especially the accent but everything else too. their character designs make me want to cry. so i’m begging, for me, to imagine this fives like this especially because then we get Tol Anakin and a Smol Clone BF and i think that is a seriously underutilised dynamic.

thank you for the prompt, ad, and for cursing me with this ship in the first place. someday i’ll get around to actually writing them as the battle husbands they are 🧡)

Alt+R to quick reblog on desktop, Hold the reblog symbol to quick reblog on mobile

  Echo's always been good with programming, but Fives is better with the actual building. He's not any good with inventing, maybe, but putting things together? Opening them up and knowing immediately what's wrong? Fives would even say he enjoys it — and being able to talk shop with Skywalker like they're nobody mechanics from the Outer Rim instead of General and Soldier makes the long hyperjumps between missions actually bearable. 

  How that led to him sitting in a rarely used hallway on the Resolute with Skywalker ("Anakin," he keeps insisting with a smile), both leant over a mouse droid in pieces on a drop cloth, Fives isn't really sure. It probably had something to do with Skywalker's excited bounce when he'd come to ask if Fives wanted to help him, the sparkle in his eye reminding Fives just how young the both of them are. How, technically, he's older than Anakin.

  Because, yeah, he is Anakin, not Skywalker, when they're like this. With his growing knight cut a curly untamed cloud around his ears, grease smeared on the underside of his jaw, with Fives stripped down to his blacks from the waist up, with even his blasters set on the floor next to them. 

  With it quickly becoming clear that Anakin doesn't actually need help to rewire the mouse droid, but had asked for Fives to join him anyways.

  They've been at it for a few hours now, their jokes winding down to companionable quiet as they both work on separate parts of the droid. It honestly might have been easier to start from a scrap droid than try to rewire this one correctly, but it's easy work Fives could do blindfolded, and sharing the mutually-focused silence is actually quite nice.

  Anakin is elbow-deep in the outer casing when he finally asks, "Do the clones feel love?"

  And Fives almost gets up and walks away. He knows not every battalion ended up with a good Jedi, that the 212th and the 501st had been so kriffing lucky to end up with "The Team", but sometimes he forgets. Maybe that's the worst part of it: slow, personal moments like this, Fives forgets he's not natborn and bearer of a face shared with millions. Being around his general makes him forget, and maybe he had taken that for granted until now.

  Or maybe it's for that reason that he hesitates from storming off, because Anakin had been the one to name Alpha, to insist on giving them proper leave, to defend them from anyone who talks down at them even if they're a planetary leader. And Rex had said something, once, about Anakin’s brain working in either/ors, being hardwired in some way to only see in black and white and believing that if you're one thing, you can't be another. That what Anakin says isn't always what he means.

  So instead, he asks, "What kind of love are we talkin'?"

  Anakin refuses to raise his head, and Fives can almost see him stressing about how to phrase this.  "Y'know, grand romance and stuff. One-and-onlys and holodrama romcom propaganda and imagining growing old together."

  "'Not quite sure what you're asking, sir." He takes a deep breath. "The short answer is yes, we can and do feel that, but the long answer is I can't speak for every brother, and I would not want to. Some of us don't feel that." Shrugging, he passes Anakin a socket wrench before he can ask for it. "But it's not because we can't, not because of the longnecks. We're bred to be obedient, sir, not emotionless."

  Quiet settles over them again while Anakin processes this, his mouth twisted rather horribly. Fives starts to think he would do a whole awful lot to turn that frown back into a haughty smile. 

  "What do you really want to ask, General?"

  "I'm married to Senator Amidala."

  Now, everyone with eyes knows that. Maybe Torrent knows even better, when they've been covering for their general for over a year now, and clearly the Jedi just aren't doing anything about it — but Fives also knows Anakin has never actually told anyone about this, not even General Kenobi. Rex says Anakin still thinks they've been discreet.

  "If I may be blunt, sir, this is not news."

  And Anakin actually laughs at that, shaking his head as he tosses down his tools to stare at the opposite wall instead. Fives watches his gaze go distant, somewhere far away from the Resolute lost in the middle of space. “I’ve loved her since I was nine years old, Fives. I loved her through not seeing her for a decade, through her assassination attempts and the First Battle of Geonosis and becoming a knight, and I...”

  Fives sighs once. “No one said you had to stay in love, sir.”

  “But that’s just it,” he groans. “I’ve never known how to do anything else, how to be anything else. I don’t... know who I am without it.”

  He has to look away from Anakin, then, because he’s seen brothers go stupid for people they meet on campaigns, or for their Jedi, and Fives isn’t nearly as young as some of the shinies out there, but he knows what it looks like, when they leap in without thinking. He lets out a long, slow breath, his eyes falling on the ‘saber at Anakin’s hip. “Permission to speak freely, sir?”

  Anakin blinks at him, and nods.

  “That’s too young to decide what you want to do for the rest of your life.” Fives raises a brow at his general’s startled expression, which is maybe more amusing (endearing) than it has any business being. “General, you’re barely an adult, just the same as the vode. If my mental timeline is right, you weren’t even twenty standard when you married Amidala, which, frankly, was reckless and unfair on her part.”

  “Padmé would never–”

  “I don’t mean intentionally, sir. The fact of the matter is, no wonder you don’t know who you are without her, because you’ve always had her.” That decade of no contact notwithstanding, considering Anakin didn’t not have her, either. “Senator Amidala knew who and what she was before you, and she’ll know who and what she is without you.”

  “That’s not quite fair,” Anakin grumbles, but his throat is flushed in what Fives hopes is entirely appropriate guilt, or at the very least embarrassment. “It was my idea to get married after Geonosis.”

  Fives snorts. “The idea of a child thrown into war, afraid to lose anything.”

  “You’re being uncharacteristically candid, Fives.”

  “Respectfully, sir, the last thing you need is to be coddled.” His general laughs again, this time good and bright in a way he hasn’t heard before; and then Fives can’t help what he admits next. “We weren’t allowed toys, or anything.”

  Laughter cutting off abruptly, Anakin’s eyes grow haunted instead. There might not be anyone else in the galaxy with quite the same experience as the clones, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t those that understand.

  “Hevy made me and Echo– Well, he said they were mythosaurs like Kal taught us about, but they looked more like sad loth cats. He cut up his own bedsheet to make ‘em, and couldn’t tell the longnecks what he’d done with it, so he just slept on the bare mattress.”

  “Fives...”

  But it’s clear Anakin doesn’t actually know what to say, so Fives pushes on. “Some of Fett’s instructors tried to teach us Mando’a, you know? I think Spar is the only brother that ever got fluent, the rest of us have been making up words and combining them with Basic and Kaminoan and whatever else the Cuy’val Dar spoke that sometimes we don’t even remember what language they are anymore.”

  “I didn’t learn Basic until I was five.” Anakin thunks his head onto the wall behind him with a sigh, the mouse droid forgotten at his feet. “Other padawans always told me I was lucky Master Obi-Wan knew Huttese.” Ahh, kark, his general had been a Hutt salve; at least the spice runners made sure their slaves could communicate with their customers. “I couldn’t read a word of Aurebesh when I first came to the Temple, though to be fair, I couldn’t read anything else, either.”

  “You grow up around other kids?”

  “Yeah, my mom and I lived in the biggest slave slum on Tatooine.”

  Fives doesn’t need to tell him how lucky he was just to have had their own quarters. “I think, sir, that the vode know better than you think, what it’s like always standing on the edge of losing everything.”

  Squeezing his eyes closed, Anakin inhales sharply and clenches his fists over his knees. “What happened? To your mythosaur toys?”

  “One of the longnecks found them while we were in training, ‘threw them out before we got back. I think Hevy was even more upset than we were.”

  The leather glove over his prosthesis creaks as he tightens his grip on his own palms. “Was it easy? To just... forget about them?”

  “Of course not,” Fives snorts and crosses his arms, “we were the equivalent of eight standard at the time, but we honestly didn’t have a choice. As we got a little older, we stopped trying to put meaning in things, because we weren’t allowed things. Our names are our only real possession, even our armor can be taken from us, but we will not, cannot, let anyone take our names.”

  Groaning, Anakin scrubs his hands over his face before pushing himself up to finally look at Fives properly. He still doesn’t speak for a moment, just watching him, then teases flatly, “You’ve been spending too much time with Cody and Obi-Wan, you’re starting to speak in riddles.”

  “They are riddles only to you, sir.” He offers a small smile, and is only slightly disappointed when Anakin doesn’t return it.

  Instead, he lets out a winded breath. “So. You’re saying that it’s not easy to let go of even small things, but we must. And then there are things that we shouldn’t let go of?”

  “Some things aren’t ours to keep.”

  Anakin swallows. “Like Padmé,”

  “Like any person, no matter what sort of love we have for them.”

  Groaning, Anakin pulls his knees back up close and drops his face into his arms. “But I still love her.”

  Knowing that this is not a new problem, that General Kenobi has been trying to teach his general this for as long as they’ve known each other, Fives takes a moment to consider. “You don’t really have to stop loving her.”

  “But you said–”

  “You think I stop loving my brothers when they die?”

  Whether or not it’s healthy to hold onto affections for someone after a romantic relationship is a conversation for another time, Fives decides, and leans over to pick up where Anakin had left off with the droid.

  “General, it sounds to me like you already know all this,” he says, twisting a wire into the grip of his glove to yank it from the motor. “And  that you’re digging your feet in — which is the crux of the problem, isn’t it?”

  “You sound like Obi-Wan,” he groans, but doesn’t deny it.

  “Hmm, well, at least we’re still just kids.”

  Anakin very slowly looks up from his arms, just enough for Fives to see his wide eyes. “What do you...?”

  “Well, we’ve still got time to learn, don’t we?” Fives raises his eyebrow as he fits the new wire into the motor and starts to close all the panels back up. “I still think about Hevy and Droidbait and Cutup, and honestly, I still think about Echo’s and my mythosaurs. That’s not a bad thing, I don’t think, not even the Jedi would think that’s bad. I’m still angry when my vode don’t get funerals and I honestly hold that against the Chancellor and the Jedi both. But I don’t get to go back to Kamino and take my anger out on the longneck that took our toys, and I’m... working on it, not being so angry with the generals. I’m still angry. But I know the Jedi have about as much say in all of this as we do, and I know burying my brothers won’t bring them back. So I’m working on it.”

  “I... don’t have to be good at it all at once.”

  “Great Maker, General, just because you’re the Chosen One doesn’t mean you have to actually be good at absolutely everything from the start. You just have to try, and you still have time to.”

  He looks up and finds Anakin already smiling back. “Fives, I could kiss you.”

  “Considering it sounds like Senator Amidala just divorced you, I think that’s a very bad idea, sir.”

  “Bah, you’re no fun.”

  Fives feigns offense, “This mouse droid we’ve rigged to follow Captain Rex around and scream says differently.”

-

  The night the 501st returns to the Resolute after finally (kriffing finally) leaving Umbara, Fives finds a hand-sewn stuffed mythosaur on his bunk, with a string collar and a dogtag etched with CT-782.

-

Mando’a: Cuy’val Dar — “Those who no longer exist”, group of 75 Mando’ade and 25 others put together by Jango to train the clones vod/e —  “brother/s, comrade/s, sibling/s”, technically gender neutral but used most often in fandom as “brother/s” (*in this context, fives is using brothers as gender neutral as well, because you won’t take trans and nb clones even from my cold dead hands*)

[childishfluff]

Hewwo, would it be okay to request some fluff about Tommy slipping into littlespace during his exile, and caregiver Dream being kinder to him because he has limits to being evil when it comes to little Tommy? I really like the way you write this sort of stuff ~

hello anon, I did not write fluff, sorry about that. I did take this prompt and write it- it’s just not...fluffy. It’s light angst, at best. I’m sorry, I just don’t like the idea of cg!dream/little!tommy due to my dislike of how c!dream acts towards tommy. I didn’t wanna deny this request though, because it was still interesting. Feel free to request something else, I just couldn’t figure out how to write this in a fluffier way, y’know?

The Unfinished Story Starts On The Hill [Little!Tommy/Big!Dream Oneshot]

There was once a time when Dream felt bad for all he had done to Tommy, and he has a short-lived desire to fix things. He only reaches this point when the boy breaks down in tears at the idea that his favorite toys and comfort items could be destroyed. But all hope of fixing things is destroyed as the toddler-minded teenager tells him that he hurt him, and that he didn't want him there. Here's a chapter in an unfinished story that could've ended in friendship, if Tommy had been more forgiving, or Dream had voiced his guilt and gave a real apology. Sadly, there's a reason this story was left unfinished. It all started on the side of the hill.

TW for cursing, emotions, and Dream being a d*ckhead. AO3 Link

Tommy couldn't tell you how he got this far without Dream blowing up his littlegear.

At some point during his exile, he had managed to sneak back to his home, just to grab the things he used to comfort himself and hid them back in Logstedshire. But now, while Dream was making his daily rounds to blow up his stuff, he had managed to find the chest, hidden and buried on the side of a hill.

Tommy had taken to the habit of regressing under the stars, sitting on the hill and playing and just for a while, forgetting his worries. Sometimes, Ghostbur would show up and entertain him for a while. The whole thing, this 'weird' but sweet coping skill, was something he had kept hidden from Dream.

Until now, when Dream had the great idea of searching the entire premises for hidden supplies.

Tommy was panicking. He didn't think Dream would take a walk around the whole place, and him finding his hidden chest wouldn't only mean that all his stuffies and toys were gone forever, but Dream would know his secret.

"Really, Tommy? Chest in the side of a hill? I'd think that after the disk incident you'd know not to pull that again," he tsked. Tommy closed in on himself, his breaths quickening as he tried to think of what he could do. . He could lie, or try to find a way around this. But that'd be nearly impossible.

His best bet was to try and get him to blow up the stuff without looking at it. He wanted to keep his secret, and he'd sacrifice so much to do. Tommy was still panicking, tears springing to his eyes as he tried to focus on the current situation.

Tommy was crying, not realizing how quickly he had slipped until he was already small. "What's up? I know you don't like me being a dick or whatever, but you've never cried before." Dream's voice sounded so menacing and scary to him. So scary and mean.

Dream was seconds away from killing all of his stuffed animals and he really, really didn't want that. But there wasn't much the mentally toddler-aged boy could do at this point.

Tommy backed away from him, just a bit, rocking on his feet in an attempt to calm himself. He knew that Wilbur would give him some blue, he'd tell him to hold the crystal and fiddle with it as he talked out how he felt. And if he couldn't talk, then it'd provide a distraction, something to focus on to pull him away from whatever upset him.

But Wilbur wasn't here, and there wasn't any blue. There was just a scary man in a white mask, and no heart.

"Tommy?" Dream's voice spoke up again suddenly, snapping him out of his anxious thoughts for just a second. "Look at me." he ordered.

Tommy forced his head up, facing the masked-face with teary eyes. He sniffed. Dream's face softened behind the mask, though Tommy didn't know that. Dream suddenly dropped to his knees, moving to open the chest. Tommy immediately protested, trying to push and pull him away. He jumped to move and stop him.

He successfully rendered Dream's ability to get to the chest, almost causing him to tumble down the hill at one point. For some reason, Dream didn't fight back, not wanting to hurt him. Instead, he settled on rendering his ability to stop him.  

"Don't touch me, Tommy," Dream snapped, grabbing his wrists the first chance he got and restricting his movement. Tommy's eyes were full of fear, his weak and now-childlike voice mumbled..

"m' sorry."

"I just wanna see what's in here, Toms," Dream spoke more softly. He had a feeling he knew what was going on, and he was sure of what he'd find in the chest. The boy collapsed to the ground, crying harsher and harsher by the second. He felt helpless.

He couldn't do anything now. He heard Dream click open the chest, and take only a moment to look inside before a soft "Oh." left his mouth.

Tommy didn't want to see what he was doing, looking to his lap and closing his eyes tightly. He assumed that Dream was lighting TNT, and that his coloring books and pacifiers would all be gone in just a second.

He was confused when he didn't hear the sounds of a quick, crackling flame and a 'boom' though. Instead, he heard some footsteps, and some shuffling right in front of him. Then, he felt a few soft items being dumped into his lap. "Open your eyes, Tommy." Dream's voice spoke up.

"Stuffies!" he cheered at first, hugging all of them close to his chest at once, the soft toys completely filling his arms. Then he looked up to Dream, tilting his head like a confused puppy. "W-why-....no gone?" he tried his best to convey his thinking, though that was hard with how small he felt. Exile was stressful, this was all to much.

All the time, everything was emotionally overwhelming. If he had the option, he'd probably stay little all the time. But he didn't have that option, so it always felt like he was holding back the childish part of him that was forced to grow up way to quickly.

Dream chuckled a bit at his lack of correct grammar, but didn't comment on it. "You're just a baby, aren't you? I know I may be the villain of this story, but it'd be truly evil if I became a stuffie murderer."

Tommy giggled at that, snuggling the toys in his arms as if they'd be taken away at any moment. "jus' a baba," he repeated, mumbling to himself.

"Let's just pretend I never found any of this, okay? I won't destroy your toys or anything. And if you're feeling like a kid when I show up, I'll just leave and come back later, yeah?"

Tommy nodded a bit, not replying verbally. For a minute or two, he sat there, cuddling the toys while Dream simply watched him, keeping his softer demeanor and a promise to himself to be kinder to the boy. At least when he was like this.

For those few minutes, Dream thought that maybe things could stay like this. He could be nice to Little Tommy, and play around with him, while continuing the conflicts he had with Big Tommy. Unfortunately, that's not how it worked. There was picking and choosing when you want to not be an asshole, it's manipulative and confusing.

"Bye bye? Wan' be lone now," he requested, setting the toys down and standing up and stumbling over to the chest, digging through it before Dream even replied. Now that he was done crying, he didn't want Dream here.

"Are you sure you wanna be by yourself? Y-you're so little, I wouldn't want you to get hurt."

"You hurt me, don' wan' you here," Tommy's voice was still high pitched, but a little clearer, like he was just a bit bigger now. He set some things from the chest in a pile next to it. He was blatantly honest. Dream wasn't good to him, and he wasn't going to treat him like a friend just because he had the basic decency to not blow up his stuff.

You hurt me

For the first time in a long time, Dream felt guilty.

"O-okay," Dream stuttered, finally standing up from his spot. "Um, I'm sorry," he said, running his hand through his hair. That's not the response he expected from him, not at all. "I'll leave." His voice reduced to a mumble as he turned to walk away and back to the nether portal, leaving the little by himself.

Tommy didn't turn around, or say goodbye in any way, closing the chest and moving on with setting up his play area as if Dream didn't exist. He laid out a blanket on the side of the non-steep hill, setting and organizing toys on it. He was being his own caregiver, because the only one he had at the moment was a very unreliable and unpredictable ghost.

He just didn't want someone who hurt him to try and play buddy-buddy. Dream wasn't nice. Ghostbur was nice, Tubbo was nice. But not Dream.

And Dream was gone, just like that. Being rejected hurt a lot, but being reject by a kid? A baby?

That hurt oh so much more.

Because that meant that even someone on the mental level of a child was able to resent you. He was so bad that a child hated him. Of course, this guilt and shock wouldn't last long, and he'd go right back to being an asshole to Tommy the moment he was big.

But as promised, if he was small, he'd just walk away, and point Ghostbur in his direction on his way back to where ever he was going instead. Sometimes, he'd set up camp nearby, just to watch him for a while and make sure he was safe. From a distance though, because the kid strongly disliked him, big or little.

And though they had a silent agreement not to talk about what happened that day, neither of them would ever forget it. Tommy would always wonder why he had mercy when he was 'just a baby' even though he was 'just a kid' all the time.

Dream would always wonder, just in the back of his head and never out loud, if there was a way to fix things with the little. There's really wasn't much hope for him, though. War and power were much more important to him.

Eventually, through the battles and the end of his exile, the day at the hill would be a faded memory that they never spoke of. An issue to never be resolved.

An unfinished story of what could've been a sweet friendship with just an apology and some forgiveness.

An unfinished story that would always remain unfinished and uncertain.

--

A/N: So....what did you think? Is tommy in the right here, do you feel bad for Dream? Do you wish this played out differently? Please reblog/reply/send an ask, and lmk!

[kriscynical]

I have finally thrown in the towel and gone back on Welbutrin.

If you're considering the need to go back on your meds, take this as a sign from the universe that yes, you do indeed need to and you have nothing to prove to anybody.

This turned into mental health word vomit nobody is going to care about so I'm putting it under a cut to save your dashes.

After having the health crisis in 2009 that left me with the permanent nerve damage I'm still dealing with followed by one of my best friends throwing me under a bus and gaslighting me about it, I started struggling with my mental health. When my middle sister passed away from breast cancer in January 2010 I destroyed myself trying to be The Strong One for my parents, letting my cup run so dry it cracked and broke.

I spent the next 7 years at the bottom of a hole, the last four or so on Welbutrin that helped quite a bit but not completely. My personal art output was absolute zero. I lost my 20's to it, basically.

I finally pulled myself out of it when I renovated the room across from my bedroom into my studio and got into Yuri on Ice in late 2016 because I had something to focus on, get excited about, and be inspired by. I pumped out 40 new pieces of art in 2017 because of it, I was getting regular interaction with people, my blog was growing again, and it was fantastic. I was an art machine. I came off of the Welbutrin in Spring 2016. I was happy for the first time in years.

Anybody still in the YoI fandom knows that well has been bone dry for a few years now; most of our crops withered if not died completely, and fandom policing bullshit made creating fanart for it far less desirable for me. I started slipping.

Then 2018 happened. My oldest sister passed away in February from liver failure. The day after we buried her ashes next to my middle sister in the family plot, we found out our dog, Sushi, had late stage lymphoma at only 9 years old. Her face had barely even begun to get a dusting of white. We lost her that July. I slipped some more. I came out of that year holding on to the edge of that hole by the tips of my fingers, but I was proud that I hadn't fallen back in completely.

Then 2020 happened. On March 13 my life upended and my sole focus became keeping my high risk parents safe from Covid, becoming their caregiver and doing absolutely everything for them that involved interacting with people or going out in public. In the last 14 months I've only gone to the pharmacy and chiropractor. That's it. We've been having our groceries delivered via a wonderful woman named Katelyn through Dumpling. Quarantine has aged me by at least five years at this point if the lines on my face are any indication.

Then my uncle was diagnosed with stage IV esophageal cancer over the summer and the traumatizing hell of trying to care for him here at our house -- on top of the added stress of having a CONSTANT parade of nurses, hospice people, and chaplains coming through the house because of it in the middle of a pandemic I was working so hard to protect my parents from -- was a body blow that included a dissociative episode. He passed away in October 2020.

I was finally able to get myself and my parents vaccinated through the county health department at the end of March 2021, which was a Thing all unto itself because of their system fucking things up.We got our second dose toward the end of April and a huge weight lifted off my shoulders, but the damage was already done.

My personal art output has been zero for almost two years at this point. The last piece of fan work I actually finished that wasn't for a client, zine, or gift was in October 2019, it didn't even get 200 notes, nobody seemed to care or even notice that I had been basically MIA online in the last two years (save for maybe three people), so I lost the sliver of motivation I still had left. Let me repeat that:

I haven't finished any personal artwork that wasn't for a client, zine, or gift since October 2019. It's now May 2021.

At the beginning of April I finally said fuck it, I give up, and emailed my doctor asking for a new script for Welbutrin. While I'm not as godawful miserable emotionally as I was back when I started taking it originally (although it's on its way down that road), I am back to being completely unmotivated to do much of anything let alone produce new art. I have ideas. I just don't have the motivation to sit down and execute them.

As I've said several times before, I have to create in order to feel worthwhile. Interaction with people online when I post my work helps me stay in a good place mentally because I'm human and humans need positive interaction and just a sense that we're seen and matter. It's a nasty spiral because once it started seeming that hardly anybody cared about my work anymore or even noticed when I disappeared, that finished the job of killing my motivation. I know art should be made for yourself but like I said, I'm human and I'm just being honest here instead of trying to bullshit anybody. What's the point of posting if it's seemingly just going into the void?

I'm tired of being in that rut of a mindset and languishing in that bad headspace, so I'm trying to help myself out of it before I hit the bottom of that hole again. I never want to go back there, but I'm damn close at this point.

At least the Welbutrin is making me lose weight because it's killed my appetite.