#i’m a little sad about the nose but the filled-in eyebrows look good

[crosbyism]

just realised that geno got more work done. good for him for getting it done well

[moonstruckme]

Hi hi hi! Can i please ask for a remus fic where reader is very like scared of hosputals in general.

In in the way she'd be with needles or meds nah, she can still go but kind of goes on autopilot when she does?

I had to suffer for three months when i was just 8 in the hospital back to back so everytime anything related to admission or long visits just kind of scares me and brings it back.

Doesn't have to be dr! Remus but you can do whichever you'd prefer love❤️

Hi lovely! Thank you for requesting <3

cw: hospital, reader has pneumonia, mention of needles, also I used temperatures in fahrenheit but for ref 102F is ~38.9C

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 984 words

“We won’t be long,” Remus assures you, hand between your shoulder blades as you walk through the parking lot. “I promise, love, as soon as we get your fever to come down, I’ll take you straight back home.” 

You manage a hum. You’re trying to avoid talking, wary of another coughing fit. Or a crying jag. You hate this. You hate being here, it makes you want to crawl out of your skin. But though Remus tries to hide it, you can tell he’s really worried about the turn your flu has taken. Your fever had been coming down, but then it skyrocketed, an ache blossoming in your chest that was exacerbated by deep, painful coughs. So you’d let him negotiate you into a short visit to his work. To mollify him. Still, your anxiety makes the air around you staticky and tense. 

“Hey,” Remus says, stopping you just outside the door. He sets his hands on your shoulders, leveling you with a serious look. “I’m going to stay with you, alright? Nothing bad is going to happen to you, and I’m going to hold your hand the whole time.” His eyebrows dip up in the middle, concern mingled with compassion. “Try to relax, sweetheart.” 

You do your best to seem it, giving him a wan smile and reaching up to squeeze his wrist. 

“Okay,” you manage. 

He smiles back, taking your hand to lead you inside. 

The automatic doors open, and despite your boyfriend’s comforting words, your thoughts go all scribbly. 

Remus takes you over to the front desk to check you in. He must know the nurse sitting behind it, because his expression is friendly and his tone familiar, but you can’t focus enough on the words to make out what they’re talking about. You try not to cough too loudly. Remus’ hand comes up anyway, rubbing your back absentmindedly. 

Soon, he’s leading you out of the waiting room. You hear him speak, but you’re not sure if it’s to you. You don’t try to keep track of the hallways, letting his hand on the small of your back guide you to a small, private room. He sits you down on the bed, taking your hands. You try to focus on him. The soft, worried look in his amber eyes. The faint smattering of freckles over the bridge of his nose. The calluses on his hands, rubbing gently against yours. 

“You with me?” he asks quietly. 

You blink. “Yeah.” 

Some tension around his eyes relaxes. “Good,” he says, sweeping his thumbs back and forth over the backs of your palms. “You doing okay, love?” 

“Mhm.” 

“I asked you that a few times, you know.” He gives you a small smile like he’s teasing, but you can hear the concern in his tone. “I think you checked out for a little bit there.” 

“Sorry,” you mumble, trying to breathe shallowly to avoid coughing. “I really don’t like it here.” 

Remus’ mouth purses, his eyes going sad. “I know. You know I wouldn’t ask you to come if I didn’t think it was important, right?” 

You don’t get a chance to answer. The coughing wins. You take a tissue out of your pocket, pressing it over your mouth as your eyes water. Remus grimaces, rubbing between your shoulder blades. He keeps going even when the fit ebbs and you fold the tissue, tossing it into a bin beside the bed. 

“That’s what I mean, lovely,” he says, gently but not without a bit of told-you-so. “That doesn’t sound like the flu, that sounds like pneumonia. Do you want me to fill you in on what’s going to happen while we’re here?” 

You nod, touching your forefinger to your bottom lashes to clear away the tears hanging there. 

“In a minute or two, a nurse is going to come in and give you an IV of antibiotics.” His tone has apology embedded in it, anticipative of your reluctance. You can practically feel the sympathy pouring through his palm on your back. “I’ve already put in a request for an x-ray, so when they’re ready for us we’ll go back, just to confirm it’s pneumonia and not a chest infection. Then, all we have to do is wait for the antibiotics to do their work.” He frowns. “I don’t think you need oxygen, but—”

“No thank you,” you say hastily. 

Remus presses his lips together and nods. “Alright, only if it comes to it,” he capitulates. “Once we get your fever down, we’ll pick up some oral antibiotics and go home.” 

“Down to 102.” 

He gives you an odd sort of look, and then the corner of his lips twitch. “Are you trying to negotiate with me? We said 101.” 

“101.8,” you bargain.

“You can’t change the terms of the agreement after we’ve left home.”

“102.2.” 

“Oi, that’s not how it works,” he laughs, incredulous. “It’s 101, love.” 

“102.5.” 

“This is how I know the fever’s gotten to you. You seem to have forgotten who has the car keys.” 

“102.6.” You start coughing, pressing the back of your hand to your mouth to muffle the wretched sound. 

“Okay, okay.” He rolls his eyes, rubbing your back a bit more firmly. “101.5. Final offer.” 

“Deal,” you wheeze. 

“Alright, stop torturing yourself, sweetheart,” he says with a good heaping of fondness. His hand is steadfast between your shoulder blades. “Just take it easy.” 

You’re prepared to try, but then the nurse comes in. 

“Hello?” she says. She has a warm voice. It’s a shame the sound sets your heart racing regardless. “Are we ready?” 

Remus’ touch migrates over to your shoulder, pressing you against his side in a quick, comforting half-hug. 

“Hi,” he says, turning to her with a kind smile. “Yeah, we’re all set.” 

He takes your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. He keeps ahold of it until you go home.

[feyhunter78]

Pink Pastels

Description: Single dad Miguel who replaced himself in a new universe meets his daughter's favorite teacher, you, who just happens to have a shitty boyfriend and doesn't yet know how much the O'Hara family wants you to stick around

Pt 2

I cracked y'all, and I blame TikTok

“Ms. Y/N, watch me, watch me!” Gabi calls, waving her arms in the air to catch your attention.

“I’m watching, go ahead.” You encourage her, smiling brightly when she does a successful cartwheel, her hair spilling from the loose braid one of her classmates had done for her during quiet reading.

You know teachers aren’t supposed to have favorite students, you tell each and every one of your students that you don’t have favorites, that you adore all of them equally. But Gabriella O’Hara holds a special place in your heart.

“Did you see, did you see?” She asks excitedly, running up to you, dark curls tumbling wildly around her shoulders.

You kneel down, and brush the hair back from her face, still smiling brightly. “I did, that was amazing, who taught you that?”

“My dad, he helped me practice.” She says, giving you a toothy grin, one front tooth missing from where she’d knocked it out eating an apple yesterday.

A tear-filled lunch that had been until you reminded her that now the Tooth Fairy would come visit her. The idea of a sparkly fairy leaving her money in exchange for her tooth dried her tears quickly, and soon enough she was proudly showing off her lost tooth (safely contained in a Ziploc bag) to anyone who would listen.

“Well, it seems like your dad is a very good teacher, then.” You say, giving her shoulder a quick squeeze before her friends dragged her back onto the playground.

You stood back up and rejoined the other first grade teachers.

“She’s adorable.” Janey says, nodding at Gabi who was playing tag with a few other girls.

Janey taught in the classroom next to yours. You started teaching at the same time, but she’d been hired at Steve Rodgers Elementary a year before you. Janey was the first friend you made when you got hired, and you soon became close friends inside and outside school.

“She’s so well-behaved, too; I wish I knew who her mom was, so I could thank her.” You say, a slight grimace on your face, when you watched two boys from your class begin to shove each other.

You called out to them, and they stopped, giving you guilty looks before running towards the swing sets.

“There’s no mom, she walked out on Gabi and her father after she was born.” Melissa says, her arms crossed over her chest as she watched her kids.

Melissa was a senior teacher at Rodgers Elementary. A tough love works the best teacher with the confidence of a god, and a nose for gossip like you couldn’t believe.

“Oh, that’s so sad.” You say, your heart hurting for the sweet little girl who always wanted to sit next to you during story time. Gabi had told you about her dad many times, but never mentioned her mom, you just assumed she was away for work often, or that they didn’t have many things in common.

You looked at Gabi, watching as she helped one of her friends tie their shoes. Sitting beside them and patiently demonstrating on her own sneakers. How could anyone walk away from her?

“It is, but her dad…he’s hot, I’ve seen him in the pickup line, he’s like a male model or something.” Melissa says, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

You gave her an incredulous look. “Melissa! That’s a parent you’re talking about.”

She shrugs. “Hey, I’m married, I’m not gonna do anything, but one of you could.”

Janey turns her head to hide her laughter, and you smack her arm. “Janey, hitting on a child’s parent is wildly inappropriate, besides I have Todd.”

Melissa snorts, and you bite the inside of your cheek. Todd was not a popular man around the school, especially after what he pulled on your birthday.

The bell rings signaling the end of recess and your kids begin to line up, ending your conversation as the three of you are pulled in different directions.

There’s a knock at your door, and you look up from grading papers, to see Janey. “Hey y/n, Gabi’s father is here to see you?”

You shoot her a look of confusion and begin to tidy up your desk, then stand, smoothing out the wrinkles in your baby pink dress. “Oh, yeah, sure, let him in.”

Janey disappears, and the space is filled by a giant of a man. He towers over the desks, making them look even tinier than they already were. His shoulders are massive, his biceps you swear are bigger than your thighs, though you could be exaggerating, but you’re honestly not sure, and when he fixes those dark brown eyes on you, and suddenly the floor beneath you feels unsteady.

“Mr. O’Hara, how can I help you?” You manage to get out, motioning for him to take a seat in front of his desk.

“I’ll stand.” He says curtly. His voice is deep, settling in your bones, the faint whisper of an accent, and confidence behind his words makes you nervous for a moment, then you recognize the feeling, not nerves…something else, something much more inappropriate.

“Oh—okay, is there something you need, is Gabi okay?” You ask, realizing she isn’t in the classroom with him.

“She’s fine, just sitting outside with her book.” He explains, his eyes piercing straight through you.

“Margaret and Margarita, right? Your daughter an exceptional reader, in both English and Spanish, you should be very proud.” You say, giving him a smile, hoping the compliment will soften his expression and make it seem like he didn’t want to murder you.

Melissa was right, Mr. O’Hara was gorgeous. With a strong jawline, high cheekbones, a mess of thick dark hair, and perfectly formed lips, all tapering down to the body of an Adonis, clothed in a white button up that stretched across his broad chest, and black slacks that clung to his muscled legs like it was their job and rent was due next week. But his expression was flat, his eyes cold, his stance rigid.

“Why did you lie to my daughter?” He asks flatly, looking down at you, as if you were a bug on his windshield.

You blink up at him in confusion. “I’m sorry?”

“You should be.”

An indignant expression flashed across your face before you could stop it, and you saw Mr. O’Hara’s lip twitch. “I’m not apologizing, I’m asking for clarification.”

“You told Gabi that the Tooth Fairy was going to visit her, I wasn’t going to do the Tooth Fairy , she doesn’t need false hope.” He snaps, leaning forward slightly, towering over you.

The hair on your arms stands up, but you brush it off as a stab of guilt goes through you. He was a single dad, maybe he couldn’t afford such frivolous traditions. “Mr. O’Hara, if this is a financial issue, I am so sorry. I should’ve tried to comfort her another way, my sincerest apologizes.”

“This isn’t a financial issu—comfort her?” He stops midsentence, his brows furrowing.

“She was upset because she lost her teeth, it’s her first one, a ton of kids get a little scared, but the promise of a reward usually clears those tears right up.” You tell him, holding your hands up in a pacifying way as you talk.

His eyes dart down to your hands, then back to your eyes, lingering for a moment on your lips. “I didn’t—Gabi didn’t tell me she was scared.”

“She was probably a little embarrassed. She talks all the time about how brave you are and how she wants to be just like you when she grows up.”

His expression softens.

“I actually—”you turn to rifle through your desk until you find Gabi’s latest assignment—“have something for you.”

He takes the paper from you, and you can’t help but notice how his hands dwarf yours, his tanned skin is scattered with small scars, and his calloused fingertips brush against yours. “What is this?”

“I had the kids draw a picture of their hero and then write a few sentences about why that person is their hero. I think she was one of a few who didn’t draw Spiderman.” You laugh softly.

He cradles the paper and a soft smile spreads across his face as he reads her writing under his breath. “Porque mi papá lucha contra los monstruos en mi armario.”

“I had to look that one up, my Spanish is terrible.” You admit sheepishly, watching as he reads her words over and over again.

“Thank you, for this, and for comforting Gabi.” He says, folding the paper carefully and sliding it in his pocket.

“Of course, I love Gabi, she’s such a pleasure to have in class.”

He looks at you, really looks at you, and you’re struck by how similar he and Gabi are. They have the same nose, the same almost curls that frame their faces, and when he tilts his head ever so slightly to the side you almost burst out laughing. You can’t count how many times you’ve seen Gabi do that exact same thing.

“You know Gabi talks a lot about you, how pretty you are, she was right.” His voice is low, smooth, and sends a jolt through you. Then he takes his leave, with you standing there stunned, wondering what the hell just happened to you.

Eternal Tag list: @nyctophilic0vitnir

[jeansplaytoy]

“Ain’t Shit.” - c.springer

(part two here.) (part four here.)

part 3

you and connie always get into what seems like your final argument.

more arguing, mentions of violence, heavy weed smoking, cursing, overthinking, angst.

you weren’t scared of connie.

i mean, he always promised to never hurt you in any way you wouldn’t want or any way where it was out of pure violence. and he always kept that promise, even when you two were on and off. even when you were on bad terms or even when he was so mad at you, he didn’t even wanna speak to you.

and you hated yourself a little for questioning whether he was gonna keep that promise tonight.

so you were in the passenger side of ony’s car. he didn’t trust you enough with your own, making sasha and mikasa drive yours to your house.

you stared at the floor of the car, resting your elbow on the door. your nail had a bandaid around it. “you good?” ony glanced over at you. your left hand rested between your thighs for comfort. you nodded. your outfit had went from a party outfit to just that same crop top and a pair of shorts.

“why you lookin all depressed and shit?” he asked again, eyes on the road. “i’m not.” you spoke back. ony frowned and looked at you. “nah, for real? cus i ain’t never seen yo ass like this.” he played with his earring as one hand was on the steering wheel. “why are you tryna make it seem like it’s not normal to be quiet?” you chuckled a little to brush away the unintentional sad look on your face.

“that shit ain’t normal for you.” he mumbled. you looked at him and stared for a while.

“you think connie mad at me?” you asked. “connie? oh hell yeah, that niggas is pissed. like straight up.” he answered. you smacked your lips. “ony, i’m being for real.” you furrowed your eyebrows.

“what? you think i’m not?”

you paused. “…you serious?”

“what i just say.” he looked at you.

you frowned at him and rolled your eyes. “you really make me sick, bro.” you mumbled. “so you regret what you did.” he said. “hell naw. he cheated on me and tried to make me jealous, i only flirted with one nigga since we stopped talking.” you defended yourself, but ony hummed mid sentence.

“but the thing is, you fucked wit’ the opps.” he corrected you. you squinted. “okay so it’s good that he can cheat but i can’t fuck with somebody he don’t like? you saw him flirting with another bitch right there.” you sat up a little.

“he was flirting with somebody you don’t like, he wasn’t flirting with one of yo’ opps. that’s different. and fucked up.”

you stared at him again before sighing and sitting back. “i’m not even bouta talk to you right now.” you said. ony shrugged and sat back, resting his arm on the door.

ony was always like your big brother, and you always went to him when mikasa and sasha weren’t available. especially about connie, he’s the one that kept getting y’all back together in the first place. but you hated to be told the right thing. he spoke his mind, only sugar coated a little to not make you mad, but you just despised when someone told you something different from your original thought.

you knew he was telling the truth tho.

you stayed silent the whole ride until he finally made it to his house, where everybody else was, normally after every party. you got out the car, walking up to the door and opening it, waiting for him when you went behind the stairs.

he walked in front of you, opening the basement door. like just at the party, your nose filled with the scent of weed. you slowly walked in behind him, all eyes on you.

“y/nnn!” sasha smiled, waving you over to her. you smiled and waved back. mikasa was sitting beside eren and jean was beside armin, they were cracking silent jokes, seemingly.

“this one got all mad in the car when i tried to tell her right from wrong.” ony nudged the back of your head. you smacked his hand and rolled your eyes. “that’s why she always getting into a fight.” eren said while rolling up a blunt.

you sat beside sasha while grabbing the blunt from her, hitting it for a few seconds before exhaling and putting your phone in your lap.

the whole basement went silent as everyone did their thing. but what you didn’t dare to do was look up in front of you, because you’d be looking straight at connie. and you could tell he was piercing holes in your forehead as you picked your phone up again to find something to distract yourself with.

“so… what happened? between you and brooklyn. i mean— i saw everything but… y’know.” sasha said. “she beat her ass, that’s what happened.” jean mumbled, passing his blunt to armin while armin played some game on his phone.

“it’s really nothing now. i don’t care bout her.” you shrugged. “really.” ony raised his eyebrow. “ony shut up.” mikasa laughed as you grabbed the blunt you and sasha shared again. “nah she was so quick to beat her ass and wanna act like a baby now.” he chuckled a little while glancing at you.

“okay you act like you don’t be fighting a lot.” you looked at him. “i fight when i have to, not when i feel like i want to.” he mumbled before grabbing a bottle of tequila and drinking it.

“well she was being a bitch.” you mumbled with a shrug.

everyone went silent once again. and your eyes, who apparently have a mind of their own, moved over to connie who stared at you with low, bored eyes of his own.

the stare held for a good couple seconds. you didn’t know what he was thinking or what he wanted to say, but when ony moved over to sit beside him, you looked at sasha, who looked at you and then connie.

“y’all not gon’ try to make up?” armin suddenly spoke, glancing at you and connie.

“i’m not finna keep apologizing for stuff that don’t even be my fault.” connie said, slouching down on the circular couch. you squinted at him.

“don’t do that.” you mumbled while blowing smoke. “what? defend myself for the… fifth time?” he cocked his head back a little. you frowned. “connie, you act like you wasn’t rubbing all up on her ass and shit.” you sat up and held your hand out.

“y/n, you was kissing on floch and shit. dude was grabbing yo ass and shit. now if it was any other mu’fucka then i’d let that shit slide. but yo ass fuckin wit the opps.” he sat up. “might as well be one.”

you raised your eyebrows and your lips parted a little. “oh that’s what we doin now? nigga-“

“cut that shit out now, talk like adults.” jean waved at both of you.

“i don’t give a fuck.” you frowned. “shit, and you think i do?” connie laughed a little. that laughing shit pissed you off, especially when you was being deadass. you stared at him for a few seconds before standing up. “i’m finna get a drink.” you mumbled before walking towards the door.

you walked upstairs from the basement before walking to onys kitchen, going in the fridge to get a bottle of water.

why couldn’t you just be high?

~

“she piss me off with that shit bro.” connie mumbled, already getting mad. everybody looked at him. “you know how she is connie, she get mad easy, you get mad easy, y’all need to stop that shit.” mikasa shook her head, mixing some of her wine with orange juice, trying not to get too waisted again.

“straight up. y’all need to stop all that arguing and then fucking two hours after. ‘shit don’t make you happy, cus two days later yall finna be arguing bout the same shit.” jean spoke, eyes slowly getting pink from the smoke that burned his eyes from time to time.

connie stared at the floor. “i gotta piss.” he stood up to walk out of the basement.

~

you closed the fridge, opening the bottle of water to drink a little. “not tryna get drunk.” you whispered to yourself before downing the water.

you heard the bathroom door close as you leaned on the counter, wiping some water that dripped down the corner of your lips. you swallowed the last bit before staring down at the counter, exhaling and biting your lip.

you heard a noise behind you before turning your head, seeing connie.

you stared at each other for a couple seconds.

“what you doin in here?” you asked. “came to get space. thought you would’ve been back in the basement by now.” he said, opening the fridge to get a bottle of water. you stared at him and his movements, unintentionally backing away a little as he closed the refrigerator.

he paused and looked at you. “what’s wrong witchu?” he asked before drinking his water. “nothing.” you frowned at him. “why you acting like that?” he said quietly. you tilted your head forward. “like… what?” you leaned on the counter while looking at the ground.

connie shook his head, putting the water bottle back in the refrigerator before closing it again.

you looked at him as his back was towards you. you bit your lip softly. “you…” you started, but didn’t know what to say.

he raised his eyebrows at you, glancing at you.

“you still mad?”

he turned towards you and looked you in the eye. you didn’t know what he was thinking, just like all tonight.

“go back with the group before me.” was all he said before hopping on the counter.

you tilted your head a little. but choosing not to start another argument, you left the kitchen and went into the basement.

god, you wanted to punch him hard. and tell him how he really hurt you. but you wanted to kiss him, and tell him you forgave him, and how it was petty of you to do the things you did, and how you didn’t mean it.

“where’s connie?” sasha asked.

you looked at her and raised your eyebrows. “i didn’t know he left. ion know.” you said before sitting down.

everyone continued their conversation, and you stared at the ground, hands resting under your thighs. he really didn’t care anymore.

he didn’t.

you didn’t realize that your eyes were starting to burn. they also darted around the room, trying to make sure no one else saw you.

that’s when connie entered the room. his eyes only on you for a second before he walked over to ony, laughing at a joke he told.

your throat started to hurt and burn.

don’t cry. don’t cry. don’t cry. please don’t cry.

cry. cry. cry. cry. cry right now.

the same things repeating in your head. you inhaled deeply, looking at the ceiling.

you’ll be okay.

‘ex factor’ on REPEAT while making the last part. 😣 almost made myself cry shiddd.

part 4? :)

[moonroses-restuff]

Stay A Little Longer - Bi-Han x Reader

A/N- this was highly enspired by the recent new ep from the Apothecary Diaries. I hope you enjoy it.

Warning: sad Bi-Han, not proof read lol. Sfw

You were on the roof, staring at moon light and stars, drinking some alcohol after such a stressful day. Your body was aching from all that unnecessary training with Bi-Han. You couldn’t help but wondered what was going on with him. He was much rougher than usual during training. Much angrier. Almost like he didn’t care if he hurt you.

It scared you. Luckily, Kuai Liang was there to stop his older brother to cause you any harm. You sighed as you drank up the last bit of the alcohol before you head back down and return to your room. You packed up your things and headed to the area where you climbed up.

Step by step, you carefully climbed down. Only until you were jumped by surprise from a sudden voice.

“What are you doing, Y/N?”

You gasped and lost your footing and fell down. You groaned in pain, “Damn, who was that? You startled me.”

“My bad.” You turned around to see who the hell scared you and made you lost your footing when you gasped to see Bi-Han.

“Bi-Han! Why are you here?” You asked.

“I should be the one asking you the same question.” He raised an eyebrow.

“I’m sorry. I’ll get up then.” You were ready to get up and get away from since he’s been in such a bad mood already since training that you didn’t want to cause anymore problems for you and for him. But suddenly, his big arms wrapped around you from behind, preventing you from leaving.

Your heart skipped a beat, “Could you let go of me?” You said, but he didn’t listen as he pulled you back down and sat you down.

“Don’t wanna. It’s too cold for you.” He mumbled, resting his forehead against your back.

You scoffed, “Ironic since you’re the one with ice powers.”

He groaned, “You’re the one without a jacket at this time of the night.”

You rolled your eyes. You didn’t know whether he was joking or not. But you didn’t want to further question him. But that’s when you nose caught this stretch form him.

Is he drunk?

“Are you drunk?” You asked, turning your head to face him. You took a good closer look and you can tell that his cheeks were pink and his eyes were red.

“Can’t help it since Kuai Liang and Tomas were there.” He sighed, burying his face more into your back.

“I see…”

“They both invited me for a drink. Once the booze were out, I filled myself with alcohol until I passed out. Once I’ve woken up, I endured a headache and wanted some fresh air until I saw you climbing down.” Bi-Han explained the details which surprised you. He wasn’t the type of person to be social with anyone. This was probably the longest conversation you ever had with him.

Come to think of it. You did notice how he gobbled alcohol for the past weeks now. You didn’t say anything since his outburst were out of control and didn’t want to bother him. Even, Kuai Liang and Tomas were distant threw out the days. You haven’t been here long enough to know what was really going on. Then again, you didn’t want to interfere with their buisness in the Lin Kuei.

But that doesn’t relate to this situation where you are trapped with his arms around you. You tried to break free from his grip but no matter what you do. He still wouldn’t budge. You didn’t want to be put up with a clingy drunk.

Then something hit you. You technically did fell on top of him, even though he was the one that startled you and he did catch you. It was probably rude of you to not even say thank you to him. Or else, he’ll have your head off by now.

It wouldn’t hurt to say thank you. You turned your head slightly about to say something when you felt something wet dropping on your bare neck. Your eyes widened and turned back to face him only to see tears dropping from his closed eyes. Your heart beats. Bi-Han pulled you closer as much as he can while you stayed quiet.

“Stay a little longer,” he whispered, “Just keep me warm. Just a little longer. Please.”

He pleaded. He sounded so vulnerable and you don’t know why. You took this opportunity to ask him a question.

“Bi-Han,” your soft voice got his attention, “What is wrong?”

He didn’t say a word and you understood. The two of you sat like this for hours. In silent. You can hear his breathing increased as you felt more tears falling. You never seen him like this. You didn’t know how to react or do for him. You breathed out from your nose and relaxed your body as you leaned back, holding his hand in comfort.

Bi-Han wanted to tell you his vulnerability. But he wasn’t ready to open up. No matter how much he wants to tell you about the pain he is facing. He couldn’t. But sitting here with you and having his arm around you was close on being comfortable. The warmth of your body made him ease up a bit. For that, he’ll thank you for this moment one day.

Perhaps one day, he’ll open up to you about his mother’s death anniversary that he drank himself up for the past weeks. But for now, he just wants to enjoy this night with you and not bother you with his issues.

A/n- need more vulnerable Bi-Han. This is my first time writing in a while. Ignores some Grammars lol

[angelofsmalldeaath]

abstract (psychopomp) — a.h.b.

cw: death of a pet (in the past), talks of death, mentions of blood, hurt/comfort-esque

the cat collar is old and frayed against my fingers. the red looks brown now and the bell that once hung at the centre of it…well, it’s gone now. gone forever. still, i thumb the empty spot and close my eyes. 

a distant part of my brain remembers the tiny jingle of the bell—tinkling and melodious. accompanied by little chirpy meows.

“thought i’d find you here,” his voice interrupts my thoughts and i put the collar back in the box. it’s instinct to shut it tight, to slide it away from me. who me? i wasn’t the one stuck in the same memory. not me… i’d never… 

his hair is damp like he just got out the shower, the collar of his t-shirt sporting a wet spot from when he obviously didn’t dry himself properly. i blink quickly and smile up at him. 

“i was looking for old boots.”

“you weren’t. i know what date it is.” 

for a moment i hate the expression of absolute surety on his face. i hate how well he knows me. i hate that his eyes fill up with love and warmth—something that slides over my skin like thick molasses, suffocating me thoroughly. 

“you’re allowed—”

“i know what i’m allowed!” the snap in my voice startles us both. 

his face crumples a little, eyebrows furrowed, a small crease formed right between them. my hands twitch at my sides. i should be walking over to him and smoothing the crease with my thumb. 

instead, i lean against the wall, hoping one of these boxes in storage might swallow me whole. 

i wait for him to say something else—maybe tell me again that i’m allowed to “feel my emotions” or that i’m allowed to cry about it or one of thousand other sweet things he has in his arsenal. 

he blinks and rearranges his face into a smile. “do you know what i remember about that day?”

i give him a wry smile. “blood? there was a lot of it…”

“i remember you. i remember falling in love with you.”

my heart skips a beat. that’s hardly the thing i’d expected him to say. “that’s—”

“not what you were expecting? i know.” for a moment the room goes quiet. the dust motes float in the air—like little flecks of glitter in the sunlight. all i remember about that day is grief. 

all i remember is loss. 

“it was so cold, do you remember? you nose was all red and runny. i teased you about it…”

“mercilessly,” i chuckle. he’s walked closer now, so close that our toes touch and the space between our bodies fills with heat. 

i swallow and look up at him. this closeness has me craning my neck just to properly look into his eyes, and i see it there—the same look he had in his eyes then, a certain kind of shine. the deja vu leaves me breathless. 

“you wouldn’t stop burrowing your hand in my pocket, you refused to leave my hand. i thought my heart would burst into a million tiny pieces.”

“well…that’s not good.”

“it was,” he clicks his tongue, “until it wasn’t. you ran into the traffic right in front of me and i couldn’t do anything but stand and stare and hope my heart won’t explode into a million pieces on the pavement.”

“i didn’t… i didn’t know she’d escape from the window and run out onto the street.” 

for a second i close my eyes and relive the scene in flashes—laughter. shock. a ball of familiar black fur running past us. the screech of tyres. bright lights. blood. so much blood. 

and then his hand on my back…

“let go, baby,” he says, drags his knuckles down my spine and i look at my hands, at all the blood. my white nails stained crimson, the red collar stained brown. 

i blink and come back to the present. 

“i remember thinking you were so brave. you are so brave. i remember being terrified that i’d lose you before i told you i loved you.”

his smile turns sad and my heart splinters. a lot of memories from the day are a blur but i remember his shaky voice. i remember how his hands won’t stop shaking, how he’d bite his lip to stop it from wobbling. 

“do you think about it often? about me running into oncoming traffic.”

“every night, i think.” there’s simple honesty in his voice and i picture him lying there, staring up at the ceiling, replaying that scene in his head. “but i allow myself to feel the fear, then i turn to you and pull you into my chest and everything is perfect again. everything is alright.” 

“ah,” i chuckle—a small sound tinged with sadness. “and that’s what you want me to do. you want me to feel it. and then let you make me forget it.”

“exactly.”

“i should fire my therapist. you’re so much better.”

he laughs and pulls me into a kiss. his beard tickles, but his hold on my waist grounds me. then he pulls the box back towards us and takes the collar out. it’s still darker in some spot, stained with the same blood, a mix of red and maroon now. i take it from him and hold it against my chest. 

“i miss her. she was my baby.” 

“i know you do. i see you,” his thumb swipes on my cheek, brushing some stray hair aside, “sometimes at night you go on pet adoption sites. i see you scrolling.”

“and you never said anything?”

“i figured you’d come to me when you were ready…”

tears tighten my throat and i barely stifle the sob threatening to come out. the collar looks so small in my hands, scrunched up tightly into a little ball. 

“i couldn’t get a new pet just yet. it won’t be fair.”

“but we could look at them, laugh at their silly names? we could stay in bed and watch silly cat compilations on youtube.”

through tears, i laugh. a few fall on my nose and he wipes them away as quick as they appear. 

“that sounds perfect,” i nod. 

and then for the rest of the day, that’s what we do. 

[mischievouslittlecreature]

Part 21: The Shadow of the Abattoir

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x OC

Summary: May's visit does not go as anticipated.

Word Count: 6,477

Notes: Warnings for depictions of sexual content and jealousy.

Previous Chapter • Series • Fic • Next Chapter

Chapter 14: The Man Who Doesn't Exist

“Right. Now try this one.”

Lucy raised an eyebrow at him, taking the small shot glass filled with clear, shimmering liquid that he offered her, holding it up to the light, swirling it, and bringing it to her nose.

“You better be careful, or I’ll be drunk before midday,” she commented, taking a sip. Tommy watched her intensely as she swished the helping of freshly made gin in her mouth, testing the taste of it thoroughly before swallowing. “It’s good.”

“You’ve said that about all of them,” he pointed out with fond exasperation. It probably would have done him well to find someone less biased in their opinions about everything he did. But then again, it would probably be equally difficult to find someone not so stone cold terrified of him that they would be willing to be honest in their assessments of the recipe. 

“I don’t know. I’m not much of a gin drinker,” she set down the glass, eyeing the bottles lined up on the table in front of her, each containing a different variation of the recipe he’d been tinkering with.

“Exactly; I want it to appeal to both seasoned and unseasoned gin drinkers. Try ordering them for your favorite to least favorite,” he suggested, nudging one of the bottles her way. She started to pick them up, moving them around the table, sometimes pouring a splash of liquid into a glass to give it another taste before deciding on its ranking. 

“You should have May try some of it while she’s here. I bet she drinks more gin than I do.”

He rested his cheek on his fist as he watched her work. “Yeah. That’s a good idea.” 

The light struck her face at an angle, highlighting the shape of her cheekbones. The freckles that always dotted her skin were a little more pronounced, likely as a result of spending more time outside in the sun since Christmas. Her lips formed an adorable, ever so slightly downturned pout when she concentrated, comparing the gin from two separate bottles before choosing their positions in the ranking.   

She had been sad for a while after Aberama gave her the news about her mother. Understandably so, of course, but it still hurt him to see her so despondent. Like the spark that lived inside of her had dulled, somewhat.

But she was coming back to herself, gradually. A healthy hue of color in her cheeks, the bright warmth in her eyes steadily returning. 

Tommy shifted a little closer to her, swallowing roughly when she pushed a lock of deep red hair back out of her face. He was close enough to smell the distinct scent of her rose perfume, the temptation building within him to pick her up, swipe all the bottles of gin off of the table to crash upon the floor, and make love to her on that table until she screamed his name. 

“Done!” she announced, rousing him from his lascivious daydream. She looked over her shoulder at him, and the spark of conspiratorial cheekiness in her eyes nearly had his self control snapping completely. “Tommy?”

“Mm?”

She looked to be trying very hard to suppress a smile, head jerking towards the bottles. He cleared his throat, rising from his seat and moving to stand behind her, bending down to wrap his arms around her shoulders, hooking his chin over her shoulder. 

“Right; let’s see what we’ve got, eh?” he assessed her decisions carefully. She’d rated the one flavored with cinnamon the highest–predictably so, Lucy did love her cinnamon. “Didn’t like the one with the coriander, eh?” he asked, leaning forward to swipe up the bottle she’s put at the bottom of her ranking. 

“It was more that it’s too weak on the alcohol, rather than the coriander that was the problem,” she tapped the bottle that was second to last. “But this one was too strong. You’ll have people staggering around after one glass if you sell them this stuff.”

He reached into his pocket, fishing out a notebook already half filled with various gin recipes he’d been trying out, jotting down the notes she was giving him. 

“Honestly, on all of them I could use a little more sweetness. I like the cinnamon flavor, but I don’t know how popular that will be with the general public. You’ll have to ask a couple more people,” her head craned around to look at him from over her shoulder. “It’s getting there.”

He smiled shyly. “You think so?”

“Mhm.”

He squeezed his arms around her, leaning in to press a kiss to her lips. She tasted sweetly of gin, a soft, wanting groan leaving his mouth at the first meeting stroke of their tongues. Lucy giggled softly against his mouth, giving him another peck before leaning back, smiling again when he bumped her nose affectionately with his. 

“We better get going if we want to be there when May arrives at the yard.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, but made no movement, instead dropping his head into her neck, mouth trailing kisses up to her jaw. She laughed, a sound more beautiful than a harp or the chirp of birds, squirming halfheartedly in his arms.

“Tommy!”

“Alright, alright,” he huffed in teasing grumpiness, forcing himself to draw away from her. She touched his cheek, her expression one of deep affection.

“There'll be time for more of that later,” she promised, kissing him quickly once more before standing. He reached for her hand eagerly, enveloping her seemingly eternally chilled fingers with his, and let her pull him with a strong tug from the room.  

∗ ∗ ∗ 

May’s perfume smelled sweet, the fur that rested around her collar soft against Lucy’s cheek when she pulled her in for a hug. In the mist whirling around the canals, she had looked nearly ethereal as the boat glided up to the dock. 

“Hi, May. It’s good to see you.”

“Hello, Lucy. You’re looking well.”

She smiled bashfully, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. Tommy smiled at her from over May’s head, and began ushering them to the office. They chatted as they walked, inquiring about what May had been up to (not much, outside of her horse training duties) and how things were going with the horse (very well). 

Lucy glanced over her shoulder, brows pinching when they passed by Lizzie’s desk on their way to the doors to Tommy’s office. She could hear her muttering angrily under her breath, shooting glares in their direction, but couldn’t make out entirely what she was saying. 

She frowned, but decided not to say anything on the matter. At least not now.

She hadn’t expected Lizzie’s black mood to last so long. Especially since things had been going so well between them beforehand.  

Shaking her head, she closed the doors behind the three of them, moving to plop down in the chair next to May, taking an offered cigarette from Tommy while he and May talked about the horse. The toe of her shoe bumped against Tommy’s shin, rubbing up and down idly while she rested her head on her fist, looking over at May appreciatively as she set down the horse’s registration papers for Tommy to sign. He fixed her with an intense gaze, and Lucy leaned forward a little in eagerness as he questioned coyly just why on earth May would come all the way here in person for nothing but a signature. 

May’s eyes darted between them, a little color rising in her cheeks. Lucy couldn’t help the cheeky smile she sent her way, shifting in her seat with barely contained excitement. 

Outside of Grace, May had always been her favorite of the girls she and Tommy had included in their trysts in the past, and she had remained a close friend even after they’d broken things off.

May raised her eyes back to Tommy, and there was something in her face and voice that Lucy couldn’t entirely place; something that smothered her excitement a bit.

“Nothing seems to change you,” May said, in reference to both Grace and John’s death. The words alone had Lucy’s brow furrowing, but before she could fully ponder them, the door flung open and Lizzie waltzed in. Tommy started, and Lucy’s head snapped around sharply at the sudden intrusion.  

Fucking hell; had she fallen and hit her head and forgotten how to knock?

Her shock at the intrusion, however, had nothing on her surprise when Lizzie openly sneered at May, tossing the file she was carrying onto Tommy’s desk, then pulled herself up to her full, impressive height, arms leaning against the back of the large chair behind the desk. She ignored Tommy’s attempts to dismiss her, smirking at May smugly.

“But, you know sometimes, he sees something glamorous and expensive, he just can’t resist it,” Lizzie grinned, as if she’d made some big, clever point. “He’s so weak.”

Lucy’s jaw just about hit the floor. She had been on the receiving end of several of Lizzie’s jealousy-induced fits over the years, but this one had to take the fucking cake. May hadn’t even done anything. And in all that time, she didn’t think she’d ever seen Lizzie take such a harsh swipe at Tommy before. Normally it was just Lucy she went after, never him. 

The blatant smugness and disrespect had her so flabbergasted that she couldn’t even speak. 

Tommy seemed equally as stunned, meeting her gaze with widened eyes. She wasn’t entirely sure if the repeating thought of what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck was in her own head, or something that she was picking up through the silent way that they sometimes communicated through glances. 

May responded before either of them could, and in quite graceful fashion too, announcing her desire to make a donation to the charity set up in Grace’s name. Lizzie’s smug smile faded steadily as May filled out the check, and Lucy caught herself feeling a spike of satisfaction at seeing her knocked so cleanly off of the high horse she’d decided to perch herself upon.

She immediately scolded herself internally for the petty feeling.

Lizzie’s jaw was clenching, entire form practically vibrating with rage. For a moment, Lucy thought that she might explode without another glorious display.

“That’ll be all, Lizzie, thank you,” Tommy said firmly, hardly even looking at her. Her jaw twitched once, and then she went stalking from the room, slamming the door behind her.

Lucy stared at the place where Lizzie had been standing, thumb dancing along the length of one of her rings, trying to figure out what the fuck had just happened. 

Lizzie had always been one for more the cold shoulder when she was jealous or upset. Subtle jabs and maybe the occasional snide, hurtful comment. But never anything quite like that.

It was obvious that taking Lizzie to the canal had been a mistake. She’d gotten her hopes up, though Lucy couldn’t entirely understand why. Perhaps if Tommy had taken her there on his own, just the two of them, it would make more sense why the sudden mood change, but Lucy had been there too. It wasn’t like her presence had been even subtle. So why? Why had it clearly affected Lizzie so deeply?

Maybe it had just been a reminder of what Lizzie wanted so badly, but could never have.  

She had always known deep down that Lizzie used their rendezvous to fulfill her own fantasies: ones in which Lucy was positive she did not exist, and it was just Lizzie and Tommy, happy and in love.

All this time, Lizzie’s feelings for Tommy had perhaps not been fading, but simply sleeping. And they’d gone and woken them back up again. 

They could never do something like that with her again, Lucy decided resolutely. It wasn’t fair, and it only brought them trouble. 

“Lucy?”

She roused, realizing that she had just been staring intensely at the wall behind the desk, and looked over to find that Tommy had gone over to the shelf of liquor, his hand resting on the decanter of whiskey.

“Sorry?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Drink?” 

“Yes, please,” she said desperately. He shot her a sympathetic look, pouring a glass and handing it to her before returning to fix another for himself. She took a gulp of the amber liquid gratefully while Tommy hastily corrected course, asking May if she had packed an overnight back, and explaining that the train drivers had called a wildcat strike earlier in the day.

Lucy raised an eyebrow at the lie, but didn’t comment. 

May didn’t seem perturbed, simply asking where she was to stay. Tommy offered that they could meet her at four. 

“Meet and do what?” May asked. Lucy looked up at her through lowered lashes, one corner of her lips pulling upwards.

Surely you must know, my dear.

Tommy was fighting back his own coy smile, but rather than stating the obvious, merely offered for her to try the gin he’d been distilling.

A…not a hobby, precisely, but an activity that he had grown more and more obsessive over recently. Probably just a symptom of him going minorly mad over being cooped up in Small Heath for so long. 

It was honestly kind of cute, how serious he got about the whole thing, tinkering with the recipe that his father had left him and asking her to consume far more amounts of gin than she’d normally prefer–she would always be more of a whiskey girl–to get her opinion. 

Again, there was that moment of trepidation, when May did not immediately seem amiable to the suite at the Midland that Tommy had booked for her–them, technically, if May even wanted them there–but it faded when she agreed to a tasting of the gin. Lucy wetted her lips, cigarette turning over and over in her fingers, trying to puzzle out the mixed signals May was giving out. 

They agreed to meet at four, Tommy pulling on his coat and ducking out the door. Lucy could see his figure through the glass, moving over to Lizzie’s desk, the gestures of his hands making it blatant that he was scolding her.  

“I’m sorry about Lizzie,” she apologized to May, grabbing her coat and beginning to pull it on. 

“Is she often like that?” May asked curiously, rising elegantly from her own seat.

“She’s…” Lucy sighed. “It’s complicated.”

“Isn’t everything, when it comes to Tommy?” 

Lucy finished pulling her coat up over her shoulders, adjusting the collar. “Not always,” she murmured quietly. Her relationship with him had never been all that complicated, after all. They loved each other. They were together. All the rest was just details. “I have to go with him,” she said apologetically. “You’re welcome to stay here in the office, if you’d like. Or I’m sure Charlie and Curly would be happy to host you at the yard.”

“I worry that if I stay here Lizzie might try to maim me.”

Lucy chuckled. “No, that’s more Polly’s thing. Lizzie will just mutter nasty things behind your back when she doesn’t think you’re listening.”

May shook her head, shooting her a funny look. “I don’t know how you put up with it.”

Lucy shrugged. “You and me both. I’ll see you at four?”

“Yes.”

She gave her one last smile. “Alright.”

Tommy was just stepping away from Lizzie’s desk, head turning when he heard the door opening, tensed shoulders relaxing at the sight of her. 

“Ready?”

She shot a curious glance at Lizzie, who was sitting at her desk and visibly sulking, lips pursed. “Yeah.”

He took her hand, and began to pull her to the doors, when she heard, muttered snidely under Lizzie’s breath:

“Fucking slut. Don’t know what he fucking sees in you.”

Tommy’s hand squeezed hard in hers in reaction to the words he had also heard, body half turning, mouth opening to shout at her, but Lucy grasped him tightly, pushing him lightly towards the door.

“Don’t,” she hissed, half begged, under her breath. He was so puzzled at the reaction that she managed to push him out the doors and away from Lizzie, though not before they also heard her bellowing on about May again. She would have stopped to verbally cuff her for that, had she not been confident that May could more than handle herself. At the moment, she needed to get Tommy out of there before an actual fight broke out.

“Let it go,” she told him firmly, half pulling him along to the corner before stopping. Tommy gave her a baffled look. 

“But she–”

“She’s just had her heart broken, Tommy. Give her a break. I’m fine,” not entirely true, the words still stung, no matter how often she had to hear them, but she was a big girl. She could handle a few insults flung her way. Given her role in Lizzie’s anguish, she probably deserved it, on some level.      

His face furrowed with guilt, though a spark of anger still flickered in his eyes. “Upset or not, that’s no reason to speak to you or May the way that she did.”

Lucy made a noise of agreement, gaze darting away, passing over the street without really seeing it, hands twisting and fumbling with each other. 

“Hey,” he touched her chin, raising her gaze back up to his. “Don’t let her get to you.”

“I just thought that we were passed all of this…”

“I know,” his eyes were sad. “I know; me too,” with a sigh, he looked away to the rising smoke of the factories. “Not much we can do about it now, other than distance ourselves until the storm passes.”

“I can never tell if she really means it or not. The things that she says.”

Tommy opened his mouth to say something, then closed it, looking down, hand smoothing along her arm. “I’m sorry.”

She just shrugged. “Not your fault.”

“It kind of is.”

“You don’t control what Lizzie says or does.”

“I could go back in there and yell at her some more if it would make you feel better.” 

She bit back a small, terrible smile at the suggestion. “I appreciate the offer, love, but I’m pretty sure that would only make things worse.”

“I don’t understand her,” he shook his head. “You’re wonderful. All you’ve ever done is try to be nice to her…”

“I stole you from her.”

“What?” he looked entirely taken aback. Lucy shrugged again.

“She was here first, technically. Then I came along and snatched up you and all of your love for myself.”

“That’s not what happened. She and I never even were anything. She was just a whore I saw on a semi-regular basis.”

“Yeah, well, I’m pretty sure that’s how she sees it.”

He touched her face, expression puzzled and concerned. “You’re not stealing her share of love from me.”

She leaned her face a little into the soothing warmth of his strong palm, closing her eyes. “I know,” she mumbled softly, though she was not entirely sure that she really did. Because the guilt still gnawed at her; the wondering that, maybe, if it weren’t for her, Tommy and Lizzie might have actually had a chance.  

When she opened her eyes again, he was looking at her with an appraising, narrowed expression.

“You’re really sure you don’t want me to go scold her some more?”

A small, sharp exhale of air that might’ve been the beginning of a laugh passed through her nose. “I’m sure, love,” she turned her head, kissing his palm and taking it in hers, stretching up onto her toes to peck his cheek. “But I appreciate the protectiveness.”

He gave her a gentle, adoring look, lips brushing the crown of her head. 

“We should get going, or we’ll be late to the boxing ring.”

“Mm. Yeah,” he squeezed her hand still holding onto her firmly, their shoes clicking in tandem together against the cobblestones as they started to walk. 

∗ ∗ ∗ 

The boxing ring smelled of sweat and rubber. The slap of boxing gloves hitting both flesh and the punching bags filled the room, as did the grunts of exertion and concentration of the men practicing. Bonnie Gold already had his gloves on and was in the ring, practically bouncing on his toe while he waited for his first opponent. Aberama was standing on the sidelines, hat cocked on his head, watching his son. He gave Tommy and Lucy a respectful nod of greeting when they approached, and while Tommy went to speak with King Maine, the boxing trainer, she moved to stand beside Aberama, arms crossed over her chest.

“Good afternoon,” he said, after a moment, eye remaining fixed on Bonnie with Maine directed another boy to get into the ring with him.

“Afternoon,” Lucy said back, shifting from foot to foot.

“You look to be doing well,” he finally turned his gaze onto her. Lucy rolled her head to a noncommittal angle, shrugging.

“Not much use that can be done just sitting around and crying,” she looked back at Tommy still talking with Maine. “It’s better that I keep busy.”

“I can understand that.”

“Thank you again for telling me. Mum and I…we fell out of contact around 1920 when she went back to the caravans.” She was grateful that he did not ask her why.

“She was very proud of you, you know.”

Brows furrowing, she looked at him sharply, searching for any trace of a lie in his face and finding none. 

“I spoke to her, once or twice when we would run into her and Miri at the fairs. She always had such a glow about her, when she told us how she had a daughter in the city, in a high position in a company there.”

Lucy looked down and away quickly, hoping that he wouldn’t notice the sudden glassiness in her eyes.

“She had all these clippings from the papers, about Shelby Company Ltd., pictures of you at various company events. Miri said she would sometimes spend hours just pouring over them.”

Lucy swallowed hard, clearing her throat roughly. “I wish that she had stayed here. I wish that I could have looked after her. Maybe then…”

Aberama suddenly touched her shoulder. “There’s no point spending valuable time and energy mulling over the things we could have or should have done. It brings nothing but pain. Your mother loved you. Focus on remembering that.” He gave her a stern, yet paternal look, waiting until she nodded before lowering his hand from where he’d rested it lightly on her shoulder. Lucy looked at him for a long moment. 

“You’re not entirely what I expected,” she admitted. Aberama chuckled.

“And what were you expecting?”

She shrugged. “After everything Johnny Dogs told us? Someone more…”

“Savage?”

“I was going to say feral.”

He cracked a sly smile. “I’ve found that playing up the reputation at times can be…beneficial,” those clever, fox-like eyes darted back to hers. “Something tells me that you’ve discovered the same.”

Lucy bit back a smirk. “Yes, something like that.”

“What you did with Changretta’s cousin was impressive.”

“Thank you. I’d prefer to avoid advertising it around for just a little while yet, though.”

“Why?”

She smiled sweetly. “I want to see the look on Luca Changretta’s face when he realized that I’m not just a tiny little woman who only got where she is by fucking the boss.” 

Aberama’s lips quirked in quiet approval, expression growing serious when Tommy and Maine approached them to watch Bonnie fight.

After it was over, she followed Tommy out of the gym, his hand dipping into his pocket to procure his watch, glancing at the face before tucking it away again. 

“I need to go by the factory and speak with Devlin. But you can head back to the yard and spend some more time with May, if you’d like.” 

“You’re sure?” She tried not to show just how excited the idea made her. Tommy nodded. 

“I can deal with Devlin. You go on. You can show her the gin distillery, if you’d like. I’ll meet you at four.”

With a grin, she stretched up onto her toes to peck his cheek. “Thank you.”

He gave her a small smile. “Try not to have too much fun without me.”

“No promises, Shelby.”

The skin around his eyes crinkled, even as he attempted to suppress the fond smile pulling at his lips. His hand curled around her hip, pulling her just a little more closer so as to press a quick kiss to her lips. 

“See you soon,” he promised.

She gave him a small smile, walked a few paces backward before turning around and heading in the direction of the yard. She could feel the protective presence of his gaze on her until she went around a corner and out of his line of sight. 

The walk to the yard was quiet and peaceful. While the smog and smoke still lingered in the air, the sun was actually out for once, and she enjoyed the gentle warmth that the beams languished upon her.

“Charlie,” she greeted him where he was working by the entrance when she came in. “Where’s May?”

“The stables.”

“Right. Thanks.” She weaved her way towards the aforementioned building, stepping through the open barn doors, smiling to herself at the sound of May’s posh accent speaking lowly while she stroked careful fingers through Sin’s reddish mane. She started at the crunch of hay under Lucy’s boots, head turning in her direction. 

“I thought I wouldn’t be seeing you until four.”

“First meeting wrapped up quick. Tommy’s got another one he needs to go to, but he doesn’t need me for it.” Coming up beside May, she gave Sin a little pat to her flank. “Charlie and Curly been treating you alright?”

“Yes,” but there was a small hesitation before she spoke, and Lucy shot a curious look her way, again feeling that prickle in the back of her mind that something was not entirely right. “I was going to take a walk by the canal, but then Charlie told me I’d need to take a revolver with me, so I figured perhaps it would be best to just stay here.”

“I can take you, if you’d like.”

Again, May hesitated, doe-brown eyes looking Lucy over as if she were assessing her. “That’s alright. I’d rather try Tommy’s gin, I think.”

“Okay.”

She led the way through the yard, into another set of stables where Curly was busy at work. 

“Curly, dear, could you get us a bottle of Tommy’s gin?” Lucy asked. He nodded, bustling away hastily. While they waited, Lucy grabbed a blanket to spread out over a haystack for May to sit.   

“Is everything alright?” Lucy asked after a few moments, the silence feeling long and all encompassing. 

“Yes, of course.”

“You’re sure? Charlie and Curly didn’t say anything, did they?”

“They said several things. But it’s alright. Really,” she turned her face away from Lucy to look at the entrance to the bar expectantly. “How are things going with the Italians? Honestly, I mean.”

With a sigh, she shrugged, and it was her turn to avert her gaze down to her shoes. “Could be worse. But could be a lot damn better, too.” Looking up, she met May’s worried eyes, her brow furrowed in a way that only served to accentuate the unique shape of her face. “We’ll be fine.”  

But the frown did not leave May’s features. “What about you? Are you doing alright?”

Lucy shrugged. “It took a little adjusting at first with everyone being scattered and then coming back together after so long, but I’ve managed.”

“Polly hasn’t been causing you any trouble?”

“Actually, no. Not really. She’s been…nicer maybe isn’t exactly the word, but it’s been easier to be around her.” She gave May a small, humorless smile. “I doubt that it’ll last, but I’m going to enjoy it while I can.”

“And what about you and Tommy?”

Lucy cocked her head, not understanding. “What about us?”

“Is everything alright between you two?”

Now she was truly puzzled. “Yes, of course. Why?”

“So much tragedy, and in such a short span of time…I’ve seen it have nasty effects on couples before.”

“Most everything else has been hard, at one point or the other, but not us,” she again shot May a curious look. “We help each other, we…it’s always been easy. Being with him.”

May shook her head. “That’s such a strange thing to hear, having known him for a few years, now.”

Lucy didn’t entirely know what to say to that. She was aware that the way that Tommy treated her was different from how he was with almost everyone else. It was not something she could entirely explain. Hell, she doubted that even Tommy would struggle to entirely articulate why that was. It probably had at least something to do with all of the trauma that they shared. But it wasn’t just that.  

“You’ve really never wanted him to change?” May asked, the question completely catching Lucy off guard. “Not even a little?”

For a moment she could only stare at May in bafflement. She felt like she was teetering on the edge of understanding something, but what that was, she couldn’t entirely say. May met her gaze with those wide, dark eyes, waiting patiently for her answer.  

“No,” she said softly, truthfully. “Not ever. I like him just the way he is.” 

  A flicker of disappointment, quick as a sudden, sharp spark, ignited in May’s eyes. It was gone just as quickly, only appearing for such a brief moment that Lucy was left half wondering if it had actually been there at all. May smiled at her, sadness entangled with the expression.

“I suppose that shouldn’t surprise me.”

Lucy nodded, still confused, still trying to grasp onto what it was that was causing May to behave so strangely. But before she could get a good grip on it, Curly came back in with a bottle and two glasses clutched in his hands. 

“Thank you, Curly,” Lucy took them from him and shooed him away, pouring a glass first for May and then for herself. 

As they drank, they talked about lighter things: May’s horses. The particularly talented gardener she had just recently employed at the house. The beautiful tea set Lucy had found during her and Tommy’s most recent trip into London. 

But all the while, even as they laughed together in the stables, sitting nearly shoulder to shoulder, Lucy could not shake the feeling that May was steadily drifting farther and farther away. 

Fumbling with her pocket watch, she checked the time, finishing off her glass and setting it aside. 

“He won’t be long. What do you think?”

“It’s alright. A little too sweet for my taste, I’d say.”

Lucy nodded. “He’s hoping that it’ll be big in America, so he’s been trying to tailor it more to their tastes.”

“Has he been working on this long?”

“Not as long as you’d think. I’ve probably taste-tested at least a bucket’s worth of it, now.”

May let out a quiet chuckle, taking another sip from her glass. They continued to chat while they waited for Tommy, ultimately winding up laying side by side on the hay, May’s voice a soft, low hum as she started to sing. Lucy stared up at the ceiling, her empty glass seated beside her, throat constricting with memories of lingering near the doors of the Garrison, watching Grace stand up on a chair in the back, her rich voice echoing throughout the pub as she sang song after song, some her own choosing, others requests from the crowd. 

Her eyes darted to the dark corners of the stables, searching with hope for the golden-haired ghost, but finding nothing but black shadows. 

May’s singing cut off abruptly at the sound of Tommy’s voice announcing his presence, both of them sitting up to see him approaching them with quick steps from the door. Lucy hopped down from the hay while May offered her opinion to him on the gin, Tommy dipping his head to give Lucy a quick kiss to say hello, big hand taking hold of hers, beginning to lead the way towards the stairs that led down to the distillery.

It was cool down the stairs. Lucy jumped up to sit on the table where Tommy deposited a crate of bottles, legs swinging in the air. He rifled through the bottles, selecting one and uncorking it to pour another glass for May to try. 

Lucy’s legs unconsciously stopped swinging as she watched him begin to lay on his famous charm, standing close to May, glass filled with clear liquid offered to her, voice lowered, eyes looking steadily into hers. May continued to keep her eyes on him, even as she lifted the glass from his fingers and took a sip.

“You’re unlike any man I’ve ever met,” she told him, and Lucy felt the beginning pulsings of want stirring within her, leaning forward where she was seated on the table.   

At May’s determination that the gin was still too sweet, Tommy leaned in, and kissed her.

It was a soft, sensual kiss. The kind that Lucy was intimately familiar with receiving from him. Lips moving slowly against each other, his touch gentle but firm. 

May responded with a hand on his chest, leaning into his body. Quiet and graceful as a cat, Lucy slid from her spot on the table, padding over to them and pressing her front to May’s back, running her nose through her soft, sweet-smelling hair to get at the nape of her neck, ghosting a kiss across it while her hands landed gingerly on her shoulders. She could feel Tommy shifting the positioning of his arms, so that he was more thoroughly embracing her. 

And then she felt May go abruptly stiff and freeze. Tommy felt it too, pulling back a fraction to look at her. 

“You said you booked a room?” she asked softly, after a moment. Tommy’s lips quirked up a fraction. 

“No, I booked a suite.”

“Thank you,” there was something dull in May’s voice that had Lucy pulling slightly away from her, head angling to try to get a look at her face. May drew in a deep breath. “If you book a taxi, I’ll go.”

Lucy started, brow creasing and eyes shifting from May, to Tommy, then back again. Tommy’s face drew away from her, expression suddenly hardening, going cold. The warmth and tenderness he’d been exuding a moment ago almost entirely shut off in the face of the abrupt rejection. As May continued to speak, Lucy drew her hands from her, taking a step back. 

“If only you could…”

“If only I could what?” Tommy asked, with a voice like sharp razors, eyes searching May’s before he took a large step back, away from her. “‘If only you could change.’ Go on, say it. If only you could change the bad.” 

Suddenly, all of May’s strange behavior over the day started to make sense. Particularly that curious question she had broached about whether or not Lucy ever wished Tommy could change.

He continued to verbally snarl for a moment, a wounded animal, hurt and angry and lashing out at the person who’d stung it. Because Lucy knew that it kept him awake at night, how badly he wanted to be better.

“You all deserve better than me,” he sometimes whispered, head resting on her chest, against her breasts on the particularly bad nights when she held him and stroked his hair. She always shook her head, kissing him between the brows, reminding him as best she knew how that she loved him exactly as he was.

May had struck a raw nerve she was not even aware of.

“You fucking people,” he fumed, storming away, back to them. Lucy watched him mournfully. She did not think that May intended to hurt either of them. But still, it ached. 

At least she could recognize that perhaps they could not offer what she truly wanted. At least she had the sense to understand that and step away.

If only more women were like her: with that sense and acknowledgement that she could not change nor heal a man through the power of love alone. 

Lizzie had never learned. Linda had never learned with Arthur. Hell, Lucy had sometimes wondered, at some level, at least, if even Grace had not understood that reality completely. 

“You bite like your horse,” May said after a long moment of silence, and there was both regret and apology in her voice, but not for how she felt. No, the apology was for the unintentional sting that her rejection had inflicted. Tommy’s eyes moved from hers to Lucy’s.

Fuck. 

Yes, she agreed silently, sadly. Now over his little outburst, Tommy beckoned May to follow, reaching for Lucy’s hand before beginning to move. She squeezed his fingers, his grip tightening enough that her rings bit into her flesh a little. 

None of them said much of anything at all on the walk through the canals, to a boat that could take May to the train station. It was a long enough of a walk for the disappointment to really settle in Lucy’s stomach, leaving her feeling gloomy. 

“Here’s your carriage,” Tommy said, gesturing to the boat, informing May of the train that she could catch. She gave him a look of exasperated fondness when he admitted to lying about the strikes. Lucy couldn’t help but smile a little herself at her gangster’s devilish antics.

May touched his cheek gently for a moment, looking between them, suddenly earnest.

“We’ll keep in touch?”

They both nodded, and that seemed to relax her a little. Lucy felt a wave of relief wash over her. At least May did not want them entirely ejected from her life. 

“I’ll call with updates about the horse. And please, feel welcome to stop by the house or the stables anytime you’d like.” 

At their agreement, she moved away, but not before giving Lucy a firm hug in farewell.

“I mean it, anytime you need to get away from this one, just come on by.”

“Oi!” Tommy sputtered in indignation, and they both giggled while he rolled his eyes, looking to the sky as if asking what he’d done to deserve such teasing. He helped May up and into the boat, and Lucy watched with a steady ache in her chest as she disappeared below deck, Curly climbing aboard after her. 

Tommy settled a hand on her shoulder, and very gently, began to guide her from the canal. As they walked, he wrapped an arm around her, and pulled her tightly into his side. 

Previous Chapter • Series • Fic • Next Chapter

Thank you for reading! Please consider leaving a comment, reblog, or like. I always appreciate feedback and love getting the opportunity to interact with you and hear your thoughts!

[whimsicalpolitical]

Dad George letting baba sleep in their bed when they can’t sleep or when your away and baba misses you 🥺🥺🥺

omg so cute!!

It’s 2 a.m. and the house is quiet except for the soft click of George’s fingers on his laptop. He’s sitting up in bed, back propped against the headboard, a dim glow lighting up his face.

There’s a soft sigh as he shifts slightly, glancing at his phone, half-hoping to see a message from you. You’re away on a business trip—have been for a few days—and it’s hitting him harder than he expected.

He runs a hand through his hair, trying to focus, but his mind keeps drifting back to how much easier things feel when you’re here. Even with the late nights, the endless to-do lists, and your little whirlwind of a daughter.

The door creaks open.

George freezes, eyes darting to the doorway. He sees his three year old standing there, little fists rubbing her eyes, hair a mess from tossing and turning. Her bottom lip is trembling, and when she speaks, her voice is small, broken.

“Mommy back?”

“No, darling,” he says gently, crouching down to meet her eye. “Mommy’s still away. C’mere.”

She waddles toward him, her little legs unsteady from sleep, and George scoops her up without hesitation. The moment she’s in his arms, she hides her face in the crook of his neck, her tiny body trembling with quiet sobs.

“Miss Mommy,” she whimpers, her voice muffled against his skin, and George’s heart just about shatters.

“I know, love, I know,” he murmurs, his voice soft as he rubs her back in slow, soothing circles. “We both do, yeah? Miss her loads. But she’ll be back soon. You know how she is—always off saving the world or whatever. Proper superhero, your mum.”

He says it with a soft laugh, trying to lighten the mood, but it’s clear she’s not having it. Her little fingers curl into his t-shirt, holding on for dear life, her sobs still shaking her tiny frame.

George feels utterly helpless for a moment, wishing he had your magic touch to make it better. But instead, he sits down on the edge of the bed with her in his arms, holding her close.

“Hey, hey, look at me, love,” he says, pulling back just a bit to try and catch her gaze. She sniffles and glances up, her big, tear-filled eyes locking onto his. “You know what we’ll do when Mommy gets back? First thing?”

She blinks, waiting for him to answer.

“We’ll go get ice cream, yeah? Big ones. With sprinkles. And we’ll tell her all about how brave you’ve been while she’s been away. Deal?”

Her bottom lip quivers, but she nods slowly, her tears slowing down a little. George grins, giving her a playful nudge with his nose.

“That’s my girl,” he says, kissing the top of her head. “See, you’re a proper little trooper, aren’t ya? Just like your mum. Bet she’s missin’ you just as much. Probably sat in some boring meeting right now, thinking about your cheeky little face.”

“Mommy miss me?”

“Course she does,” George says, his voice soft but firm. “She loves you to the moon and back, you know that. And so do I. But until she’s back, you’ve got me. And I’m pretty fun, right? Bit cooler than Mum, even.” He flashes her a cheeky grin, raising an eyebrow.

Her lip trembles again, but this time there’s a tiny smile trying to break through.

“There it is,” George coos, tapping the tip of her nose with his finger. “Knew I’d get a smile out of you. Now, come on. How about we tuck you back into bed, and I’ll stay with you ‘til you’re asleep? Sound good?”

She hesitates, still gripping his shirt. “In daddy’s bed,” she mumbles, burying her face in his neck again.

George’s chest tightens, and he hugs her a little closer. “Alright, alright, I’ve got you, we can stay here.” He shifts, laying down on the bed with her still in his arms, tucking her in against his side. “Just you and me, okay?”

She nods, her breathing finally starting to even out as she snuggles into him, her little hand resting on his chest.

“When does mommy come back?”

He sighs quietly, squeezing her just a bit tighter, hoping to keep the sadness out of his voice. “In a few days, love. Not too long now.”

She goes quiet for a moment, and George hopes that answer will be enough. But then he feels her shift, her small face pressing deeper into his chest, her voice trembling.

“Few days is too long...” she whispers, and George can feel her starting to unravel again.

Her breath hitches, and before the tears come, George is already moving, wrapping his arm around her a little more firmly.

“Hey, hey, none of that now,” he murmurs, his voice soothing, gentle. “I know it feels like forever, but I promise it’s not. Just a few more sleeps and she’ll be right here. Back home. And you know what? She’ll be so happy to see you. She’ll probably cover you in kisses, won’t even let me get one in.”

Your daughter makes a small sound—half a sniffle, half a little laugh—but George can feel the tension in her still, the way her tiny fists stay curled against his shirt, like she’s holding on to him for dear life.

He shifts, pulling her up onto his chest so he can look her in the eye, brushing her damp curls away from her face.

“Listen, love. I know it’s hard when she’s not here. It’s hard for me too.” He pauses, letting that sink in. “But she’s always comin’ back, yeah? Always. And until she does, you’ve got me. I’m right here.”

She sniffles, her lip trembling again, and George’s heart aches seeing the sadness in her eyes. “But I want her now,” she mumbles, and he can hear how close she is to breaking.

“I know, sweetheart, I know,” he says softly, cupping her cheek with his hand. “But let’s think about all the things we can tell her when she’s back, yeah? You’ll have so many stories to share—how you helped Daddy with all the really important stuff like… not burning the toast. You’re keeping me in line, aren’t you?”

She doesn’t say anything, just looks at him with those wide, watery eyes. George can feel her tears threatening to spill over again, so he leans in and presses a soft kiss to her forehead, his voice dropping to that low, comforting tone that usually works when nothing else does.

“But until then, how about we stay here and cuddle, just you and me, a proper daddy and daughter time. You can even sleep in the big bed here whenever you want to.”

She blinks up at him, considering, the tears still threatening but her grip loosening just a little. “Tonight?” she asks, her voice small but hopeful.

“Yeah, love. Right here with me,” George says, his heart softening as he tucks the blanket around her. “You’re safe with me. I won’t let go, I promise.”

He watches her relax just a little more, her body sinking into his as the warmth of the blanket and his steady voice start to calm her down.

“And how about pancakes for breakfast, hm? We can even invite uncle matty and his little one, how’s that sound?”

“Good.”

Her lips twitch into a smile, and it’s enough to ease the tension in George’s chest. He watches as her eyes start to close again, her fingers still holding onto his shirt but with less desperation this time.

“Love you, Daddy,” she whispers, her voice thick with sleep.

George’s chest tightens with an overwhelming sense of love as he presses one last kiss to her forehead. “Love you too, sweetheart. It’s already a bit too late for a little one like you, gorgeous, sleep.”

He feels her breathing slow, her little body finally giving in to the exhaustion, and as she drifts off, he stays there with her, rubbing her back gently, his own eyes closing.

It’s not the same without you here, but for tonight, this is enough.

[princelylove]

Part two of my interpretations of la squadra esecuzioni. 

Ghiaccio is like a smaller Risotto. He doesn’t have a very distinct waist. He’s so picky with his food that it’s a wonder he even got that much distinct muscle- or maybe it isn’t, cutting is effective (in moderation, starving will only set you back on your progress). He mainly works out for his job, Ghiaccio doesn’t really care what he looks like. 

He has a strong nose, and although his lips are small they aren’t quite in the thin category, he has really nice bone structure… He just doesn’t realize it because he’s horribly insecure and feels inferior. He copes by not trying, so he can always rely on the ‘Well if I actually tried it’d be better’ type of logic. Once a year Prosciutto gets to wax his eyebrows. 

Not only does he know what mogging is but he knows where it originated. Because he was there. I’m dying on the hill that Ghiaccio knows what green text is. He’s appealed countless bans that all sounded like “I’ve never even fucking been on /mu/ you stupid fucks” (that all got approved the night of). He fills his mind with toxic masculinity, but isn’t into alpha male bullshit. Somehow he thinks hunter eyes are a thing but he draws the line at “smooth brained jock bullshit.” 

I cap Ghiaccio’s height at 5’9” or 175 cm. 5’10” or 177 cm with his shoes on. He’s got fantastic posture for someone that sits at a computer all day. Ghiaccio’s sensitive about it, teasing him about his height is a death sentence. What a good way to end up in a freezer. 

While he has a horrible temper, he cools off the second he gets it out of his system. Just moves on after smacking the shit out of his designated rage pillow like nothing happened. At least he’s coping. Not well, but an outlet is an outlet. It’s the same when you piss him off- he gets upset, says things he doesn’t mean, and then moves on. He apologizes like a father would- none at all, but brings you a snack or buys you something you’ve been asking for. He’s a big fan of the “Check if there’s mail.” approach. He genuinely does feel bad, but he’s not a little bitch that’s gonna tuck his tail in between his legs because he made his darling a little sad. 

He smells like absolutely nothing at all. It’s actually a bit frightening. Zero smell presence. 

Melone keeps every medicine known to mankind in his room, under his bed. He’s a great person to befriend if you find yourself in the hands of one of his roommates, but to be entirely honest with you, he’s selfish. He doesn’t really care about your agony because it’s got nothing to do with him, how does it benefit him to give you meds when he doesn’t even know you? (He budges if you belong to Prosciutto or Ris- he’s not pissing off his pseudo mom and dad.)

Melone is thin and mainly gets his exercise from running. His stand takes care of hits for him, he just needs to worry about the set up, so it isn’t really an issue. There’s no need for him to lift heavy, or really lift at all. Doesn’t really matter if he’s stronger, he just needs to be faster than you are. Sure, bash his head in, pick him up, aren’t you getting tired, though? Real sleepy? Go to sleep, it’s gonna be ok. 

Mel’s stand is possessing an actual computer he modified. He runs tests consistently with the blood samples he’s managed to store in his room- he knows the best combinations to get him what the boss wants, and as long as he’s got ample blood left over, what’s wrong with killing a few juniors off in the name of science? 

I classify Melone as apathetic and a bit mean. He’s an asshole. He gets a lot better once he’s comfortable with you, look at how much he plays with the rest of his ‘family.’ It’s just that he doesn’t know you, and doesn’t want to waste time on you if you’re going to get in his way long term. When you do spark his interest, of course, he gets obsessed and oh-so-curious. 

He’s still very playful- Melone likes to hang off of Formaggio’s shoulders and tease Ghiaccio, but he’s calm. He’s not very smiley, he’s not very giggly, he just can’t force himself to react in the ��correct’ way most of the time, but he’s totally having fun! Melone loves you a lot, he just doesn’t look like he’s having fun most of the time. It’s hard for him to care about things, but you quickly rotted his brain- isn’t that testament enough? 

His seemingly cold nature makes it hard for him to form genuine bonds. Melone thrives with other difficult types- he shares a room with Ghiaccio (alternatively Formaggio) because they’re short on space and Prosciutto won’t share a room since The Incident they get along surprisingly well. 

In the beginning of your new life, it isn’t uncommon to hear Formaggio gently push Melone in the right direction. “Come on, Mel, you’re scarin’ the poor thing. Smile a little.”  (Which is normally met with “I’m running tests, go away, Formaggiooo…”) Melone’s shy- he’ll just stay off to the side, and speaks to you in a very formal manner. You might feel like you’re being tested on by a medical student. Which is wrong! Melone doesn’t have any medical experience! I mean, he’s taken classes, but he’s a genetics student. Oh, yeah, he’s in university. 

Once he gets used to you, he falls into his normal, playful routine. He still doesn’t smile too much, but he’ll speak more openly, which… is it better to not know what the iv in your arm is, or to fully understand? Melone’s quite the talker, and is happy to (over) explain. 

Melone doesn’t hide you like the others would- it isn’t shameful to him to kidnap a whole person, and he needs them to keep you here when he isn’t. Morals aside, you need to be socialized. It isn’t good to keep someone isolated and cramped in a room they don’t like. If you don’t want to talk to him, talk to anyone else. You’ve got options. Maybe not Prosciutto, or Illuso, they’re not going to play host as easily… (Although Prosciutto might ask what Melone’s “little friend” is gonna be having for dinner)

Formaggio’s body type is similar to Guido’s. He’s fairly bulky. Formaggio spends all of his free time playing whatever sport he can think of, neglecting to do his chores (You’re starting to think he likes Prosciutto yelling at him), annoying Melone, and blowing your phone up. He spends a lot of time working out, but he considers that to be more of a daily ritual than a hobby. 

Since his only real responsibility is taking care of his cat and his job, he’s not stressed at all. He’d be a lot more stressed if he had to cook, and clean, and, I don’t fucking know, be an adult or whatever- like the shit Pro and Ris do all day!

If you ever ask him about it, he’ll go “I mean, it sucks that Boss is watching us and all, but to be honest, who cares? You don’t like being on camera? It loooves you.” and leaves it at that. 

His psychology is a bit odd. He seems like a typical, immature guy- the type of guy you meet at college that does sports and seemingly nothing else. No interest in philosophy, religion, general culture, etc. While I think that his personality is close to a casual type like Guido or Squalo, he seemingly lacks any depth at all. There’s no “Oh, he’s actually very smart!” thing going on here, Formaggio is painfully average. There’s no reason for him to be a mafioso other than bad timing and a lack of drive to get away from it.

He’s actually pretty simple. He’s just a guy that wants to relax and have a little fun- who doesn’t like fun? But Formaggio is crazy insecure. He takes almost every negative reaction as a jab- neutral ones, too. If you’re not into his lifestyle, what, he isn’t fuckin’ good enough? Huh? You think he’s some fuckin’ nobody that doesn’t have the real talent it takes to be where he is? 

You can calm Formaggio by stroking his ego, and by that, I mean stroking him. He’ll forget about any transgression if he finishes a few times. 

He only speaks italian, and will “Huh?” you to death if you do not. He’ll buy you an italian-english dictionary to help you understand him, but won’t make any real effort to learn english.  

Formaggio’s kitty was a stray before he snatched her up. She’ll try to comfort you while Formaggio is gone- but she’ll abandon you if he comes back. Little traitor. He calls her a ridiculous amount of pet names- sometimes he’ll reuse whatever name he calls you on her, and will pretend he’s always called her it. Awww, my little pwincess, my cuuuutie, my baby, my angeelllll. He treats her very well- she’s a bit pampered.  While Formaggio’s cat is able to relax fully in his arms, you probably will not, unless you’re a masochist. He loves good, old fashioned sadism- no prissy mind games or punishments, he does it for absolutely no reason other than how funny your reactions are. He’s like that asshole boyfriend that throws a basketball into your face and laughs when you groan. Come on, it’s just a ball, don’t be such a baby. It’s just a joke. Aw, your face stings? You want some ice? Hey, that’s a great idea, why don’t you go get him something from the fridge?

[theshotsheardacrossworlds]

Wash

Set early in Act 3, Beatrice, having dispatched several shapeshifters, needs a bath. Zevlor offers to assist. SFW.

As always thanks to @notyournhaama for inspiration <3

“By the watching gods, what happened?” Zevlor exclaimed upon seeing his lover enter his new private, thank goodness room at the temple in Rivington. Beatrice was caked in so much blood that it even stood out in her reddish black curls. Still somehow in that ponytail of hers. She must be using magic, surely? “Are you hurt?”

Please. Please not her. Please.

She shook her head, brown eyes tired but not sad. Good. “No, it’s the shapeshifters I killed in a Harper safehouse. Don’t worry---one Harper survived, and he’s going somewhere safe. But now,” she pulled off her gauntlets and put them in the spot Zevlor pointed to. Next to my armor, such as it is. Bea said she wants to withdraw gold for me so I can get something better, but…I’m a proud man. “We have to find Minsc. The Minsc. I can’t believe it.” Beatrice glanced at him as she reached blindly the buckles on her armor. Absolutely not, darling.

“What? The entire situation or that Minsc is your next quarry?” he asked with a raised eyebrow, gently pushing her hands away as he undid the buckles.

“Everything. But for right now, I really need a bath, love. I am, for lack of a better word, stinky. Dirty. Smelly.”

Still perfect in every way. “Of course, darling. I’ll get—”

She wrinkled her nose and giggled. How utterly charming she is! “Gale taught me a spell to fill a tub with warm water. Isn’t that amazing!” With the chest piece removed, she and Zevlor then focused on her bottoms and boots. “So you don’t have to do anything.” Beatrice sighed as she removed her undershirt and stepped out of her boots and trousers. He placed them with her chest piece and then pulled a large tub from the corner next to a chair.

“Let me wash you at least, pulchra. You needn’t do anything either.” You do enough for everyone. Your companions. Me. My people. There are so many better suited for you than me, and yet it is me you want. Me you love. He watched in awe as she muttered the spell and within moments, the tub was filled with warm water. “You clever little thing…”

She chuckled as she stepped into the tub. “It’s Gale’s spell! I just did it. You know,” she settled into the tub fairly well. She doesn’t look too cramped. I grabbed the largest one they would allow. “He thinks I’m a sorcerer.”

“Oh?”

“Mhm. Because I’m so naturally good at magic. He said once this is all over, he would help me with spells and such if I want.” She smiled, watching him lather a sponge and then he began washing her shoulders. “I think I do. Having better control of my magic isn’t a bad thing.”

He nodded, focusing on cleaning her. Gods, she is so beautiful. Covered in freckles, soft, buttery skin, curves upon curves… “And what’s next?”

“Tomorrow we’re going to Wyrm’s Rock, and hopefully we can find Duke Ravengard and Counselor Florrick. Then, if all goes well, we’ll be going into the city proper. I think…I think we might try the Elfsong Tavern and see if they have rooms for us to use now that we’re here. My house obviously is not big enough for this bloody group!” She laughed and then dunked her head to wet her hair. When she surfaced, she grinned. “You should stay there, Zev. My room, unlike Nadia’s, is actually clean and—”

“Pulchra, we talked about this. I’m not leaving here until this is all over. Then, and only then, will I go home with you.” I must make amends. I am making amends.

She smiled ruefully. “Can’t blame a girl for trying.”

“Never, darling. But the point still stands. I appreciate the offer, but I must do this.” When he finished washing one arm, he moved to the next.

“Yes. I…I won’t bring it up again.” She wrinkled her nose. “Stubborn.”

“I won’t deny it. However, so are you, my dear.”

Her fingers brushed against his hand; her expression soft. “But you love me for it as I love you for it. The others…they told me to stay here tonight. With you. Apparently, they had a meeting about it, which I have to say is deeply embarrassing.” She laughed a little, lathering her hands to do her chest as he prepared to wash her hair. “I suppose I’ve been rather obvious, but I can’t help it. For better or worse, I’m very easy to read. That is to say, you’ve been on my mind a lot.”

Closing her eyes, Zevlor lathered shampoo for her hair. A spare bottle from the Grove she brought with her the other day. “We have plenty, and you don’t have any. Please take it.” Oh, my love. You are far too kind. “Is that so?” He murmured, massaging her scalp slowly. “In what way, pulchra?”

Without opening her eyes, a faint smile tugged on her pretty lips. “Every way. But that’s for another night, I think. I just want you to hold me tonight…if that’s okay?”

“Always, my love. My light. My heart. If I could hold you forever, I would.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Infernal, Zev?”

Oh.

“You can rinse now, darling. I’ll tell you in a moment.” He watched her rinse her hair with fondness. Which I often feel around her. Fondness. Adoration. With no small degree of desire. When she sat up, he took one of her wet hands in his. “I said, ‘Always my love. My light. My heart. If I could hold you forever, I would.’” Bending, he placed a kiss on her forehead. “Now, you wash your privates, and I’ll grab a towel for you.” The largest one they have. My pulchra is a goddess and deserves no less.

When she was finished, he wrapped her in the towel when she stepped out of the tub. Neither spoke until they were as comfortable as possible in his bed. Curled against his side, her head rested on his shoulder.

“When this is all over,” she said after several minutes. “I’m telling my temple I’m hanging up my sword. I have a different calling now, which My Lady supports wholeheartedly.” She scooched up a little so that her face was inches from his. “It’s you, in case you’re wondering. You’re my calling.”

Zevlor reached for her freckled cheek and stroked it gently. “Me?” How? How can her calling go from a goddess to me?

She kissed the tip of his nose and laughed. “Yes, Zev. You. If you’ll have me, of course. Wouldn’t want to—”

His lips crashed into hers while the hand on her cheek traveled down to her hip. “I love you,” he panted when he broke the kiss. She’s panting too. Good girl. “I want you. I-I don’t have a ring.” He sighed. I have nothing but myself.

And yet that is all she wants.

Beatrice smiled tiredly, the events of the day finally catching up to her. “It’s okay. We can figure that out later, love.” She then rolled over, and he held her from behind with his tail curling around a soft thigh. “Don’t worry, Zev. Your uxor is going to take care of you…”

He was stunned as he felt her breathing even and drifted to sleep.

Uxor? She remembered?

As sleep was about take him, he prayed to whatever god who will listen to an oathbreaker’s plea. Please keep her safe. I promise to devote myself to her for the rest of my days---to protect her, to love her, to cherish her, to give her everything she deserves.

I swear it.

Something inside him awakened.

My oath.

My oath is restored.

For you, my dearest love, I will fight alongside you one last time as a Hellrider once more.

[rafedaddy01]

Marry me

You and drew have been together for a year now. Your anniversary was coming up and you knew drew was planning something special but you had no idea what.

“Happy anniversary baby” drew kissed your cheek as your eyes fluttered opened. He made you breakfast in bed, placing the tray of pancakes in your lap when you sat up. “Oh baby, thank you” you reached out for his face and brought his lips to yours. “Anything for you, I love you”

“So you ready for today?” He wiggled his eyebrows at you and you cut your food and placed it in your mouth. “What’s today?” You asked confused. “I’m taking you out!” He said laying on his side and watching you. “Drew.. you don’t have too, we can just chill here.” You said.

“Nonsense! My girl deserved the best. Eat your breakfast and get ready” he kissed your cheek before heading into the shower.

You loved drew with all your heart, he was always too good for you. You thanked god everyday for bringing him to you, it was a dark time in your life. Your parents had just died in a horrible accident and you had no immediate family, running into drew at a bar and drunkingly babbling to him about your messed up life he instantly fell in love with you.

“All ready?” He asked as you fluffed your hair. You nodded and he led you out of the house.

“So you gonna tell me where we’re going?” You asked as you buckled yourself into the car and drew started the engine. “It’s a surprise, put this one” he handed you a eye mask. You rolled your eyes and giggled as he helped you adjust it, double checking you couldn’t see and waving a hand in your face. “All good” you giggled as you felt the car start moving.

After a while you felt the car stop moving and the shut of a door. You really wanted to peak but you resisted the urge, drew opening your door just in time and helping you out. “Watch your step, follow me” he said leading you. You felt grass under your feet and you wondered what this man was planning. “Drew! Where are we” you said excitedly. “Almost there baby, just a few more steps” he said leading you a few feet. He placed you where he wanted and stepped back. “Okay open!” He said.

You slowly took the blindfold off and let your eyes adjust to the light. Drew was knelt before you, an arch of lights with a red rose heart below it a neon sign that read “Will You Marry Me?” Hanging from it with candles lit all over. “So? Will you?” He said holding the ring out. “Oh my gosh! Drew! Yes! Yes of course I will!” You jumped up and down giddy as he smiled and stood up, taking the ring out of the bock and placing it on your finger. He wrapped his hands around you and spun you around. Putting you down and kissing you.

“I want you to be my wife. I want you to always be by my side. I want us to share everything with each other, hardships, happiness, sadness, and desires. Maybe You’ll even give me daughter, she’ll look just like you. Blue eyes, blonde hair and maybe even a little crooked nose like you” he joked as you both giggled. He held onto you tightly as you both peared out into the sky.

“I want us to love our home, to have friends come over and share to them about our happiness and joke with them” he hugged you tighter. Your eyes filling with joyful tears.

“I know you don’t have your parents here to share this with them and I’m sorry for that y/n, but I’m always here for you baby” you leaned up and nudged his nose with yours before pulling him into a kiss. “I love you..” you said pulling apart.

“I love you too” he whispered as you both leaned your foreheads against each other.

[hiddenwritingsintheworld]

Rich Mans World Ch. 7

Rich Mans World Series | Chapter 6 | Donations | Thoughts & Feelings

          Waking up to see Chris sleeping beside you was a weird thing to see, usually you both went to bed at different times, and he usually woke up before you. Seeing him beside you was almost comforting. He looked so young and peaceful, almost like he’d wake up any minute and ask you to go hiking today or lounge by the pool in the sun, ignoring the world all around you both…almost like a summer romance. You smiled softly, bringing a finger up to very softly trace over his nose, down to his lips. His skin was so soft, like daisy petals after a rainstorm. 

            You smiled as his lips pursed out in his deep slumber; you knew getting close would be bad, dangerous even. Tears began to brim your eyes. You’d never know love, admiration, or fierce protection. Chris would never see you as more than someone he was forced to marry. You had to prove a point, you weren’t weak, you were a boss. Someone who would be feared by many people. You owed it to yourself to gain that power. You withdrew your hand, the moment of delicacy passing; blinking your eyes quickly, Chris began to stir. You moved away, getting out of bed as he yawned. “Good morning,” his husky voice filled with sleep brought an unwanted smile to your face. You turned looking back at him, allowing him to see you smile. “Good morning, I was just about to get dressed and head down for breakfast…Wanna join me?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. 

          Chris grinned and sat up on his elbow, “We could eat breakfast here maybe? Just the two of us…” he rubbed your side of the bed, causing you to laugh. “Actually it’s beautiful out, I figured we could enjoy breakfast by the pool this morning. I just have a few calls to Emma to make and then I’m relaxing until the party tonight. Poolside relaxation is much needed.” You said getting up and walking toward the closet. Chris chuckled, “Pool side? So you’re gonna be a in a bikini all day? I could probably take a day off….enjoy the view,” he wiggled his eyebrows as you grinned over your shoulder and walked into your closet. Minutes passed and Chris Knocked on the closet door “hey I’m heading down to the pool. I’ll see you out there gorgeous,” he called out. You poked your head around the corner from where your drawers were. “Okay, I’ll be down in a few,” you smiled before disappearing again. 

           After a while Chris was beginning to wonder where you were. He got up and headed inside to overhear you talking to someone in the kitchen. He rounded the corner to see you, talking to Ms. Heidi, the kitchen aid, she spoke quickly in Spanish, it sounded rushed and anxious. He watched as you nodded and pulled her in for a hug. You spoke back to her in fluent Spanish, smiling a small, sad smile. She wiped her eyes as she pulled back from the hug and you waved your hand at the kitchen, telling her something else before she nodded and walked away. ”I didn't know you spoke Spanish?” Chris asked, stepping into the kitchen fully. 

         You turned and gave him a little smile “yeah, my nana was from Spain and she taught me that language shouldn’t be a barrier to helping others. I’m pretty fluent in a lot of languages…did you not ask questions about me when you approached my father about marrying me?” You asked as you moved around the kitchen. “I…asked a few questions, when he approached me, about me marrying you, to save his life,” Chris clapped back with an attitude. You looked at him and rolled your eyes “I’m not surprised. He’d throw ma under the bus if it meant saving his leg. Anyways, I gave Ms. Heidi, the rest of the weekend off, I’ll be cooking for us this weekend.” You said looking at him “her mom is dying,” he nodded and walked around the island “need help with breakfast?” He smiled down at you before taking in your outfit “damn,” he whispered as you laughed softly “hush it’s a black bikini. I’m sure you’ve seen better looking bodies,” you rolled your eyes and turned to finish breakfast. 

          Chris watched you cook, the small black bikini made your skin look more tan, almost like a Caramel syrup on vanilla ice cream, he’d brush against you or lightly touch you every chance he got. Your dark hair was in a braid down your back under your big black hat. He could watch you all day long. Without realizing it he began to picture a future with you. 

         You had a baby on your hip walking around the kitchen, then he pictured a high chair by the island, a toddler sitting on the counter “helping you” as the baby sat in the high chair eating eggs. You turned to him and grinned, pulling the toddler onto your hip. “Christopher has swimming lessons out in the pool today and It’s Jack’s official first day of swimming lessons. Do you think you’d be able to join us?” You smiled at him, Chris grinned and got up, walking around the island he kissed you deeply, “of course. Wouldn’t miss this for the world.” He whispered against your lips, a hand resting on the small bump you had. 

        You tapped the counter in front of him causing him to blink and look around the kitchen before looking at you. You raised an eyebrow at him. “Did you hear me?” You asked as he grabbed his coffee and swallowed it down. “Uh no. Sorry,” he said quietly. You laughed a little “just wanted to know if you wanted crispy hash browns” you smiled a little. Chris smiled up at you from his spot, “that’s perfect,” he said watching you smile and head back to cooking. ,” he watched you smile before going back to cooking. “Mind if I put on some music?” he asked as you shook your head. “Nah, go for it.” The song “River” by Leon Bridges filled the speakers.  

           And for a while, it was all normal. Chris would wave off his men before you laid eyes on them, you both sat and ate breakfast, the music filling the kitchen as you both stole glances at each other. After breakfast, Chris told you to go out to the pool and he’d join you momentarily. He let the crew know he would be unavailable today, and unless it was a 911 emergency, then don’t bother him.

          As you relaxed by the pool, deciding if you wanted to swim, you thought about how life could be with Chris. Was this going to always be this way or would things change? You didn't want to, but you felt yourself giving into the idea that he could be a very romantic, sweet, man, who could love you unconditionally. But truth be told, you didn’t know much about romance; your fathers idea of romancing your mother was staying home on a Saturday night instead of out screwing whatever his flavor of the week was. 

          Would Chris keep cheating on you? Or would he start to value your marriage? You didn’t want to think about it much more, getting lost in your feelings would be the worst thing to happen. You needed to clear your head, and going for a swim would be ideal. You stood, removing the sheer white cover and taking your hat and sunglasses off, you kicked off your heels and walked over to the stairs of the pool. 

         Chris watched from the kitchen window, feeling his mouth go dry as he watched the water slowly lap up over your skin. He felt himself move to the back door before stepping through. He’d never wanted someone as badly as he wanted you at that moment. He wanted to take you right there in the pool, let the entire world watch as he made you scream out in pleasure. He moved forward, before stopping in his tracks, at the sight before him. 

            Sebastian stood at the edge of the pool smiling down at you as you came up you grinned as he spoke before you laughed and threw your head back. You swam over and came up out of the pool, running your hands over your hair to remove the water from your braid. Sebastian licked his lips as he watched water droplets run from your throat down into the valley of your breasts. “Aw, getting out so soon? I wanted to enjoy a swim with my wife!” Chris chuckled as he came up beside Sebastian. 

              It was only a second, not even a whole second, like a mil-a-second but Chris saw your eyes light up as the grin took over your features. “Well let's get back in then,” you grinned before looking back at Sebastian, “Bye Seb! See ya later!” You turned and jumped back in the pool. “We need to talk later,” Chris told Sebastian before he jumped into the pool after you, causing you to laugh as you came up for air. 

              Half the day was spent in the pool, swimming, laughing and just enjoying your time together with no interruptions. You and Chris laughing, splashing, swimming. Around lunch, a man in his mid 40’s came out with two trays of food, fruits covered one and a couple of deli sandwiches on the other. “New guy?” You asked as you watched the man walk back to the door, “Just for a week, wanted to give Ms. Heidi enough time off,” Chris shrugged while taking a bite of fruit and popping it into his mouth. 

              You looked at him and smirked a little, “Turning soft on me now?” You laughed softly and took another bite of fruit. Chris watched you before chuckling to himself. “Not entirely, it just seemed like something…you would have done.” He said, glancing back up at you after picking up his beer. You nodded a little, a smile taking over your features. “That’s exactly what I would have done.” You stood and stretched, “I’m going to start getting cleaned up for tonight, I’ll meet you downstairs around 8pm?” You glanced back toward him as he smiled watching you walk away. “See you at 8pm beautiful,” 

             You came downstairs wearing a white flowy dress that gave off major 70’s vibes with a pair of white Go-Go boots. Your hair was curled and flipped out, feathered and just full of volume. You grinned at Seb who wore a maroon suit to fit in with the theme of the evening. Chris wore a blue button down shirt with white pants. You grabbed your bag and looked at him “Separate cars? I know sometimes you want to leave after I'm ready to go,” you said putting in the large hoop earrings. “Nah, we can ride together, Tommy and Anthony can ride together and follow us. Sebastian can drive us.” he gave a tight lipped smile to Seb who nodded. “Right, this way.” 

              After arriving at the club, everything rushed before your eyes, dancers, loud music, hundreds of drinks, you had no idea this event was going to be so popular. You met up with some friends, laughing and enjoying yourselves before you looked around and saw Sebastain upstairs glancing around. “I’ll be back!” you grinned walking away. As you spoke to others who’d come at the request of your husband and his connections, their wives all gave you a small nod with a smile. They didn’t like you, which wasn't your fault. You got to marry the sexiest man that ran a crew, the top crew at that. It was envy, nothing more. 

              You walked upstairs and smiled sweetly at Sebastian, “How’s it going? Is he busy?” you ask with a small smile and look around. A blonde man sat back within one of the VIP lounge areas that had curtains draped back for a little privacy. He locked eyes with you and smirked slightly, you smiled and looked back at Sebastian. “Where’s Chris?” you asked as he glanced at you. 

               “Y/N…I-how's the fundraiser going? Making a lot of money?” he asked, trying to change the subject. “Yes. Now where is my husband?” you asked more sternly. Glancing around the club you saw him, an arm around each girl, switching from one to the other making out. You stared in a daze. Why did you continue to believe him when he would tell you he’d change? When he would say that he loved you? You were a fucking idiot. “Sebastian, pay attention to my husband, I have business to take care of.” 

             You looked back down at him before turning around and smiling at the blonde man. “I take it you're here to meet with my husband? I am so sorry, it has just been crazy and he’s tied up with something at the moment. I hope that everything is to your liking.” You spoke as you walked into the alcove, Sebastian could hear the anger and tension in your voice. This particular one had dark red walls and a bright red couch that sat in a half circle shape. Then a table sat in the middle with a black mirrored top, glasses and beer bottles scattered all over the table with joints, cigars and white powder substances. 

             “I’m Tristan, you must be….” he grabbed your hand while kissing your knuckles as you smiled. “I’m Y/N Evans, Chris is my husband. Are you enjoying yourself?” you asked as he grinned. “Mrs. Evans, you’ve thrown a lovely party.” “Ah, fundraiser,” You corrected him with a smile. “I wanted to ensure that the Children’s ward at our local hospital would be able to give their patients the utmost care. No matter the cost.” you spoke looking around the club. People were dancing, singing, drinking, and making donations. It was going great. Until Tristan spotted your husband with two women. “I take it you and your husband have an arrangement?” he grinned at you. “No, he’s about to be castrated while I handle the business aspect of our lives. Mr….?” you stared at him, waiting to hear his last name, and he smirked down at you; “Call me Tristan.” 

             You spoke with Tristan for a good 20-30 minutes before apologizing for your husband's rude absences once more. Tristan agreed that this wasn’t how he was prepared for this evening to go, and you nodded, slipping him a card with a time on it, “Please we would be delighted if you would join us for lunch tomorrow, here at the club, Chris will be alert and ready to talk business. We thank you for coming this evening,” you smiled softly as he nodded to one of his gentlemen. “I’d like to make a donation, if that’s alright with you ma’am,” he took a bundle of cash from the man behind him and laid it in your hand. “This is…..my gosh, Tristan, thank you so much, this is very kind of you,” you graciously took the donation of $15,000 and handed it off to your assistant, telling her to add it to the rest of the money. “I love doing a good deed.” He bent down and placed a kiss on your cheek, before leaving with his men. You watched him go before looking over at Sebastian who stood at the railing, watching the men exit the club. 

          As they walked toward the exit, Tristan leaned over to his right hand man, “I want to know everything about Mrs. Y/N Evans.” 

           You walked over to the railing, and stood next to Sebastian watching as Chris had his arms around 2 women. More eyeing him as they passed. “Do you think…….do you think he’ll ever be faithful to me Sebastian?” You asked, glancing over to him. He looked from Chris to you as he mulled over his opinion. You smirked with a chuckle “when I was a kid, I had this idea that the man I’d marry would love me. Silly of me, of course being just a child, I wouldn’t have known he’d never be into his wife.” You watched him kissing their necks, groping them in a booth in the corner. “I don’t think he knows how to be faithful,” Sebastian said next to you, while you looked up at him.

           “I always knew I’d be married one day, but I figured you know we’d be this strong powerful couple, the colliding of two empires, I, my fathers, and he, his fathers. We’d take the world by storm….be madly in love while we did too. It’s silly, but when I was a bit younger, I’d dreamt about when I’d finally make love to my husband,” you laughed shallowly. Sebastian eyed you, your smile was stunning. He’d thought you were beautiful the day he saw you in your fathers house. “There would be candles, and roses,….rose petals….oh and champagne. Which, I don’t even know what it tastes like but I remember thinking ‘all grown ups like champagne, so I know I will too,’' you laughed again. “I take it he didn’t do all that?” Sebastian asked with a raised eyebrow. “I’ve never had sex with my husband, Sebastian. We’ve showered together once, and that was it; and even then…. He was called away for a business phone call.” You shrugged, biting your lip. “I should leave before he sees me, I’ll have Anthony drive me home, have a good night Sebastian,” you said, before he grabbed your arm softly. “I’ll drive you Home, Y/N.” You smiled sweetly, “That's okay Sebastian, My husband will need someone to warn him about the wrath he’ll face when he gets home.” you said kissing his cheek before you turned away. “Take me home Anthony, I’m done watching my husband get off to other women.” 

Tag List: (If you wanna be added just message me!) 

@mommad @wolfieeebbbyyy​ @dontbescaredtosingalong​ @ellen-reincarnated1967​ @adriellej​ @calimoi​ @coffeebooksandfandom​ @patzammit​ 

[takenbypeter]

The Perfect Boyfriend

Steven Grant x reader

Words: 839

Number 23: “What do you mean, ‘whoops’?”

Author’s note: got this as inspiration form a comment someone left on one of my other Steven fics so thank you to @queerponcho

Steven was the perfect boyfriend. He was respectful. He was thoughtful. You adored his tangents and found it quite cute how he could so easily switch topics just as quickly as he started them.

He wasn’t one for quiet. Typically the room was filled with his own voice or that of a recent podcast that he’d be listening to. But today the room was quiet.

You two were spending the time reading, with you curled up with your legs beside you in one corner of the couch while Steven sat on the opposite side, facing you with his knees tucked into his chest.

You were nose deep in your book, fully invested in the drama you were currently reading. You were so focused that you didn’t even notice Steven had set his book down lines ago.

He hadn’t meant to get distracted, I mean who truly does. He was reading his book when his eyes grew slightly tired from the words. So tearing his eyes away from his own book his eyes just so happen to have naturally drifted before he caught sight of you. You were trying to suppress a wide toothed grin which clearly wasn’t working because you quickly gave into the smile.

And when you smiled, so did he. He watched, surely entertained at how your expressions clearly portrayed an event that was happening in your book.

When something funny happened you grinned, when something sad happened the corners of your lips tugged slightly into a frown. When something surprising happened your jaw dropped wide open. When you found something hard to believe your eyebrows pressed together creating a crease in the middle. He was admiring it all. He found it all so endearing. This wasn’t the first time Steven’s gotten distracted by you and it certainly won’t be the last, but most of the time he didn’t even know he was doing it.

You were just about smiling again at a line you’d read when your eyes suddenly left the page and met his catching him slightly off guard as he didn’t expect the sudden eye contact. It wouldn’t have been so bad if this was the first time you’ve caught him like this today, but…it wasn’t.

Your wide smile softened slightly as you locked eyes with Steven, who looked back down at his book before his eyes went up again meeting yours. In the next moment you tried to suppress your smile from reaching your cheeks as you held your book up to hide your face.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you breathed out from behind the pages.

You couldn’t see him but he put a hand to his chest genuinely apologetic, “whoops, I’m sorry. Was I staring?”

You put your book back to your side as you let out a laugh at his reaction, “whoops? What do you mean whoops?” You teased finding his response slightly funny.

He laughed a little with you before he started again, “no, I mean I’m sorry I hadn’t meant to be staring, you just…” he paused which was very unlike him. Typically Steven would continue carrying on with the conversation quickly but this time he paused. “Truth be told I was admiring you. Sorry that sounds so weird doesn’t it? No but seriously, the way the light is bouncing off you right now, and your hair…”

With each and every compliment he gave, you honestly didn’t know how to react, you couldn’t even look him in the eye with how embarrassed you had suddenly become. You weren’t sure if you should hide again or make a dumb joke about it all to make the moment pass by quickly. But despite how awkward you felt about the compliments Steven would constantly give you, you couldn’t help but feel good about them as well. His words always held a sincerity to them that had you truly believing what he said and you loved him for that.

“You look just absolutely perfect. Well I mean you always look perfect of course—“

Steven’s small tangent got interrupted by a couch pillow flying across the way. He managed to close his eyes right as the cushion hit him flat in the face before falling straight down.

His eyes reopened and found yours. Your cheeks had become engulfed in warmth by now and your smile had reached your eyes, creating crinkles around the corners.

“Don’t sell yourself short, you are just as perfect Steven, maybe even more so,” now it was his turn to become flustered.

“Well I don’t know about that.”

You interrupted before he could get on further with that thought, “You don't have to know about that, because I know it for a fact. You are a much more than perfect boyfriend than I could’ve ever imagined.”

His eyes darted away from your then back before he leaned in, “well if you say it so then it must be true.”

You giggled a little as you smacked his leg at his silly demeanor.

Yeah Steven was the perfect boyfriend.

-

Dialogue Prompts

[shelbeetaylor]

Chapter Twenty | Evie's Grand Plan

-> story masterpost

-> previous chapter

Evie held out her hands, presenting the rows and rows of white lilies and various other flowers to Wes.

All he did was cock his head, lift an eyebrow, and say, “I don’t get it…”

Evie deflated a bit, her shoulders slumping forward as she sighed loudly. “Flowers will cheer her up! We’ll decorate the castle, obviously.”

Wes’s face only deepened in confusion. “So… how is this gonna convince– what’s her name?”

“Gena,” Evie replied without missing a beat.

“How is this gonna convince Gena to tell you what’s wrong?”

“It’s a surprise, duh! It’ll make the castle significantly less dull– you know, I’ve been meaning to give the castle a little bit of a makeover, so this is the perfect excuse to do it.”

“But, like… this is to get her to talk to you about her feelings, right?”

Evie made a face, pressing her lips together and sighing through her nose. “Yes, Wes, hopefully Gena will see the flowers and how beautiful the castle is and will feel inspired to talk to me about how sad she is. BUT the most important thing is that the flowers will make her happier and the castle will look prettier.”

Wes just sort of looked at her like she was a little crazy, and even his voice sounded like he was thinking she was a little insane. “Okay… I’m seeing a problem with this.”

“What?”

“How in the world are you going to get the entire castle decorated with flowers in one day, much less without Gena’s knowledge?”

“Ooh, that’s a good point,” Evie nodded. Who could help her? Who could help her? Who could help– “I know what we can do.”

“What?”

Evie started off towards the castle again and called back to Wes. “Follow me!”

Wes simply shook his head, ran a hand down his face, and followed after her.

Evie flung open the door to Teddy’s room, making his servant jump and almost drop the bucket he was carrying.

“CIVARN!” she shouted, before dropping down to a normal level. “I need your help with something.”

Evie had only really interacted with Civarn during their half-successful sabotage mission a little bit ago, so they weren’t really as close as she was with Theo or Gena. However, Evie would become friends with him. She still had to give him a nickname. Besides, she was sure she could get him to help her out.

Civarn sighed and set the bucket down. “What do you need, m– Evie.” Good, someone filled him in.

The grin that grew so wide on her face was filled with mischievous joy. “I have a plan.”

Civarn glanced between Wes and Evie blankly. “Why is there a plan?”

“Because Gena is sad! We must cheer her up!”

Civarn had to take a moment to connect the dots on who the nickname was referring to, but once he got past that hurdle, he was following. “Okay?”

“We…” Evie pulled out the single white lily she picked and presented it to him, “are going to decorate the castle.”

Civarn looked at the floor, looked up at her, and looked like the most exhausted person in the world. “The entire thing?”

“Yes, the entire thing.”

Civarn scoffed and stuttered before he got out, “Why?”

“Because,” Evie explained, “Gena is upset, and Gena likes flowers. Flowers plus Gena plus castle means happier Gena. Hypothetically speaking.”

Civarn rubbed his temples. “So, you want me to decorate the castle in flowers?”

“You and as much of the castle staff you can rope into helping.”

“I–” Civarn kept appearing to grow more and more tired.

“Ooh, can you, like, gather everyone so I can debrief them before I enlist their help? It’s probably best I explain what I want.”

Civarn wasn’t even able to give a monosyllabic sound in response, his face was just stuck. 

“Man, it would be easiest to just say sure,” Wes said from behind Evie. “She’s not gonna let you say no.”

“I–”

Evie inched closer to him, making the saddest face she could. “Please?”

Civarn made a face back at her as though his brain was telling him not to listen to her, but he gave in and said, “Fine.”

“Yay!” Evie began jumping up and down.

“Just give me like an hour or so to finish up my work.”

“Okay! Thank youuuuuu.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Evie took Wes by the wrist and yanked him out of Teddy’s room.

“We’re not actually doing this right?” Civarn asked Wesley.

During the hour that Evie had to wait for Civarn to finish his work and gather the castle staff, she had managed to draw up intensely detailed plans almost equivalent to battle strategies. Now Evie ended up dragging him, Civarn, and the entire group of volunteers out to the gardens to explain what Wesley was calling her Grand Plan. Currently, Evie was waving her arms about as she explained what exactly she wanted. She had become a general ordering soldiers about. It was, he had to admit, a little terrifying.

“Dude, I really think it’s better if we just do what she says. I mean, she started ordering you around without hesitation.” Evie told Civarn she was technically his superior and because of that he had to do what she said all because Civarn told her he didn’t want to drag everyone out to the gardens.

“I still don’t work for her, so that’s not really how that works.”

“That is not what she said.” She said that it works that way because she said so.

“Well, if there was any doubt she was related to the princess…” Civarn didn’t finish the thought, but Wesley knew what he meant.

“So,” Evie explained, “I’m gonna send her home early today. Once I do that, we’ll start giving the castle a makeover, okay?”

“Does she do this a lot?” Wesley asked.

“This is a first for me,” Civarn answered.

Evie was pointing out the different flowers she wanted to use. Wesley had no idea what they were except for the lilies, but those were pretty obvious. He shivered for a moment in the cold wind.

“Do you need a jacket?” Civarn asked.

“No, I’m good.” 

Wesley just focused on Evie giving her speech, her amber waves bouncing as she turned her head from the group to the flowers and back. As crazy as this whole thing sounded, there was this excitement, this passion in her ashy gray eyes that made him want to partake. Besides, it was for a good cause, so what was the harm? 

Evie's room was filled with freshly picked flowers the volunteers from the castle staff had helped her collect. Each of the servants had also taken a substantial amount of flowers with each of them, but Evie by far harbored the most. White lilies, orange dahlias, sunflowers, and purple and white autumn crocuses all littered around the place. 

Wes and her sat on the ground, weaving the flowers together.

“It’s not working,” Wes complained, struggling to twist the flowers together correctly.

“Here.” Evie motioned for the two flowers, and he handed them over. “So, you wrap it around like this, then loop it through.”

She handed the flowers back to him, the stems neatly intertwined.

“How do you do that?” he asked, taking back the flowers. “It’s so easy for you.”

Evie shrugged. “Just practice I guess, like with everything else.”

“You made these a lot back home?”

Evie smiled because she knew what he was trying to do. “You really wanna know about Wystwillow, don’t you?”

“Well,” he said as he tried to loop another flower, “I’ve never been there, and who knows if I ever will be able to go. So, I just wanna know about what it was like.”

“That is a fair reason,” Evie told him, returning to hers. She slowed her process down though because she saw Wes staring intently at how she was tying the stems together. 

“So… you were talking about your friends back home?”

“Yeah, um…” Evie looped another stem onto her collection of flowers. “I don’t know, what do you want to know?”

Wes shrugged. “Whatever you feel like telling me.”

Evie pressed her lips together, struggling to come up with words. “I–” She sighed, a little bit defeated. There was just so much floating around in her brain. Wes looked up from his flowers, and it was like he could see the whirlwind of things in her mind.

“Uh, what if I told you something about myself for everything you tell me about Wystwillow?” he offered.

He must’ve misread her troubles being that she wasn’t willing to share, but she wasn’t going to correct him. Evie was always happy to learn more about people she was trying to befriend. “Okay.”

“I guess, you can tell me about your best friend from home and I’ll tell you about mine?”

Evie nodded, looping another flower stem before she could find the words to speak. She let out a breath, then started, “She was the daughter of one of my father’s advisors. Her name was Agatha Holloway.”

“What did you call her?”

He already caught onto her love of nicknames. Evie's smile was a little sad when she told him, “Aggie.”

Wes chuckled a little bit. “Very creative.”

Evie lightly slapped him on the arm. “I am very proud of that nickname, thank you.”

“Okay,” he said, throwing his hands up.

Evie stopped working on her flowers for a minute as she walked through her memories. “She was so… amazing. We grew up together, so it was only natural that we became friends, but she was just confident and brave and, well, amazing. She would always be the one to suggest an adventure. I would always tag along because I loved her, but I could never be as fearless as she was.”

Evie turned back to her flowers, but she kept talking. “There was this one time where she wanted to ride out to a nearby village–um, Halus– and there were these local kids that were doing magic out in the woods. I was so scared, I stayed on the horse in case I needed to run away. But she just walked right up to them and demanded they become our friends.” Evie chuckled a little bit at the thought of it. “We spent the whole afternoon playing games with them, watching them practice their magic, sharing stories. It’s one of the most amazing days I’ve had in my life which I know is not saying much since I’m only nineteen, but I’ll never be able to forget it.”

“That does sound like fun.”

“It really was.” Evie's smile faltered a little bit. “I think about it a lot now that…” She stopped herself, accidentally messing up on the stem she was trying to tie. She wasn’t quite ready to talk about her last memories of Aggie. The wound was too fresh. It hadn’t even been a month. That was not a step she was willing to take right now.

Wes nodded slowly, probably assuming what had happened to Aggie without her having to say anything. 

“So, mister, you promised to tell me about your best friend from home,” Evie bounced back and said.

“His name is Ranger.”

Evie's brows furrowed. “That sounds like a dog’s name.”

Wes grinned. “It is.”

“Your best friend from home is a dog?”

“Yup!”

Evie laughed a little bit. “Okay, tell me about Ranger.”

“Well, he’s my first hunting dog. My dad gave him to me when I was sixteen…” Wes looked up for a moment, doing some mental math, “so I’ve had him for about four years now.”

“That’s a respectable time to own a dog,” Evie joked.

“It is indeed,” Wes agreed, playing along with her comedic bit.

“So I gave you a story, you need to give me one. What has Ranger done?”

“Ooh…” Wes rubbed his chin as he tried to come up with a story. “Well, I do remember that the first time we ever took him out hunting– my father and I– instead of finding the bird we shot down, he peed all over my father’s boots.”

“He did not!” Evie giggled.

“Oh, yes he did.” Wes was trying to control his laughter as he told the story. “My father was absolutely furious, he just screamed at him. ‘NO, WRONG WAY. GET THE BIRD, GET THE BIRRRRD!’ It was the funniest thing ever.”

The way Wes had reenacted the story with just his hands and his face had Evie in stitches. She was laughing too hard to even work on her flowers, clutching her stomach as her muscles began to hurt. 

When she was finally able to stop herself from giggling enough to speak, she asked, “So, where is Ranger now?”

“Not hunting with my father,” Wes joked. “Actually, he’s waiting at home for me.”

“You didn’t bring him with you?”

“No,” Wes looked down at the floor for a moment, his shoulders sinking a little. “My father doesn’t want me bringing Ranger here until I’m knighted.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know, probably like he doesn’t want me to get distracted or he doesn’t want me to set up anything too permanent here until we know I’ll be living here for a while, I guess.”

“And bringing a dog is setting up something permanent?”

“I know!” Wes began looping another stem, shaking his head. “It doesn’t make any sense, but I guess it’s more of an incentive to succeed, or something.”

“How long is it gonna take you to get knighted?” Evie tilted her head as she inquired.

Wes gave her a big shrug, arms and all. “Theo said we have six months until we’re given our final test. Actually it’s closer to five months than six months…”

“So you train for six months and then take this test?”

“Mm-hm.”

“Do you just get one chance, or what?”

“No, he said if we fail it the first time, we have about three months to succeed. Otherwise, we go home knighthoodless.” 

“Oh…” Evie said. “What kind of test is this?”

“Combat,” Wes replied. “We have to beat Theo in no less than five minutes’ worth of sparring.”

“Well, I’m sure in six months you’ll be able to do that– five,” Evie corrected herself.

“I don’t know, I got absolutely pummeled fighting Princess Cassandra.”

Evie's eyes grew wide, “You fought her?!”

Wes looked her up and down like he was a little shocked by the excited response, but he replied, “Yeah, it was a sort of entrance exam, I guess. She actually slapped me to the ground.”

Evie stifled a laugh, and Wes pressed his lips into a thin line as he nodded. She went to reassure him, “But that’s okay! Cassie’s hard to beat, not even Teddy can beat her.”

“He lasted longer than I did.”

“Well, he’s been sparring with her longer.”

Wes opened his mouth to say something, stopped, then proceeded, “You know, I didn’t think about it like that.”

“See? You just listen to what Teddy says, and if you need to practice I can help.”

“You can swordfight?” Wes seemed a little in disbelief.

“Not at all,” Evie cackled.

“Oh, so you’ll be no help.”

Evie shook her head, still laughing, “No!”

“Well, I at least appreciate the thought.”

“I can be a great cheerleader, though,” Evie in all seriousness offered. “If you want some moral support, I can certainly be there.”

“I might need that.”

“Great, can do.”

Wes chuckled a bit, then asked, “So, how do you finish this?”

“Oh, it’s pretty easy, just take that and tie it there.”

Evie watched him as he followed her instructions, and he looked at the finished product with brows furrowed. “It’s… not good.”

“Well, it’s your first one,” Evie explained. “They’ll get better, I promise.”Wes looked down at it, up at Evie, then back down again. Without hesitation, he plopped the flower crown onto her head, the thing falling lopsided onto her amber curls. Evie immediately began laughing incredibly hard, so hard tears began forming in the corners of her eyes.

-> next chapter

[pillow-anime-talk]

music & vocaloids month ; thirtieth day.

synopsis: You thought you’d never get a ring with a gemstone, that’s why you stopped dreaming about getting engaged to your boyfriend a long time ago... What a surprise that it finally happened! 

# tags: scenario; current relationship; engagement!au; kisses; fluff; a bit of comedy; faint mention; sfw

includes: gender neutral reader ft. haru yayoi {tsukiuta}

author’s note: whaaat?! last day?! no way...

That day, you and your boyfriend, Haru, drove his car to the mall to pick out some new things for your apartment. You’ve been living together for over two years and from time to time you did some major shopping to fill up the shortages in cabinets, dishes, kitchen accessories, bath towels, candles or plants. Thanks to the free Saturday, you could afford to walk between the shops and aisles for several hours, and you were really happy to spend time with your long-term partner.

“...Can I buy this?” You showed a cloud-soft, light beige blanket with little penguins on it and wicker hats on their heads. Haru looked at you with a raised eyebrow and amusement in his eyes. “Please... I’m begging you...”

“Do you really need this?”

“Honey, it’s got penguins on it... With yellow hats...” You looked at him with a sad face, hugging the blanket tighter to your shoulders, and he sighed amused. “Can I...?” You said much more cheerfully and he just nodded. “Yay!”

The tall man adjusted his glasses on his nose, and then he and you headed to the cash register to buy the aforementioned blanket.

{ ･ﾟ✧ }

Loaded to the top of your head with bags full of smaller and larger trinkets to your house, you walked slowly towards the elevator that would take you to the underground parking lot. That’s where your car was parked, which would take you home (and maybe for a short while to KFC for your favorite shake or to McDonald’s for a big cup of ice cream with extra topping).

By the time you got to the silver elevator, Haru stopped halfway right next to a nice jewelry store. You also stopped a step in front of him and then giggled.

“But you recently bought yourself a watch, why did you stop?” You asked amused, adjusting the big black bag on your shoulder, and the man just grabbed your hand and led you inside the spacious room. One of the smartly dressed shop assistants greeted the two of you with her best smile, then introduced herself.

“Good afternoon! What can I help you, ma’am and sir?” She looked first at you and then at your boyfriend, and Haru only responded with a slight bow.

“Could you show my partner the prettiest engagement rings with a nice looking stone? To match their eyes.” He asked honestly and you looked at him surprised. First you frowned, then glanced at the employee, who only nodded in satisfaction, and then moved forward, saying something to your boyfriend. At the very end, you glanced at the blonde haired man again, and he just winked at you, amused by the situation.

You felt bags of groceries, clothes, and a blanket fall out of your hands one by one, and then you felt a strong grip on your waist as well.

“Honey, are you okay? Go with the lady and look around. Unless you don’t want to...”

Haru was amused, you almost fainted, and it’s all because of the ring you’ve been waiting for so long and thought you’d never get on your finger!

previous day ; mayu ♡ next day ; thank you!

[makoodles]

The Former and Latter.

2/? From 🍞

After the hug I tussled Lo’ak’s braids and bid him goodbye as I trailed off to find Jake.

He was still helping Tarsem and the other hunters with the weaponry when I found him. I stopped a few feet away from them waiting for an opportunity to politely interrupt.

I probably looked awkward twiddling with my holopad “Olo’eyktan, your friend waits for you.” I heard Tarsem say.

I look up from my pad to thank Tarsem with a bow with lifting my fingers away from my forehead. “I See You Tarsem.” I then turned to Jake, “I See You, Olo’eyktan, I need to speak to you, I have some new information coming from Bridgehead”

Jake locked eyes with me and nodded grimly, he bid Tarsem and the other hunters goodbye telling them to continue to unload the weapons without him and walked pass me to lead the way to the gathering tent.

I waved to the hunters goodbye and jogged after Jake and his long legs.

We entered the large gathering tent filled with maps of the forest and other weaponry ranging from AKs and Snipers to wooden bows and spears

It was just the two of us in here.

“What’s the news?” Jake moved towards the maps on the floor and sat next to the largest map of Bridgehead City “Any movement on their end?”

I let out a sigh and moved to sit next to him. I passed him the holopad to show the new info that Max was able to intercept.

“They have this new thing called ‘Project Phoenix’ we weren’t able to get a lot of info that we wanted but it seems like they are creating or they already created a new breed of soldiers of some kind.”

Jake’s expression turned grim “New avatars?”

My eyebrows furrowed. “Honestly, I don’t know but I know it’s not anything good.”

He threw the holopad down in slight frustration. “Ever time we fight them, they find a way to concoct new ways to screw us over. We can’t win here.” His eyes closed while pinch his nose bridge. “At this point we’re about to burn out and we are going to lose a lot more than what we could gain.”

I looked at him with sadness filling my eyes. There’s nothing I can say right now to make him feel better, being Toruk Makto, Olo’eyktan and a father weighs on him heavily and I’m sad I can’t take any of that burden off him.

I lifted my right hand and rest it on his left shoulder while leaning my head to rest on his arm.

We both sat there in silence for a moments, finding comfort in each other’s presence.

Jake then moved and wrapped his hands around my waist to lift me onto his lap to put me into a tight hug.

I was surprised but I didn’t fight his actions, I could tell he needed this hug so I reciprocated his hug just as tightly.

He then let out a long sigh and further nuzzled his face into my hair.

“We are going to be alright Jake, no matter what happens Eywa is on our side” I caressed his locs softly. “Wherever you go we’re right with you.”

He then started crying softly and all I could do is hold him together as tightly as I could while he crumbles.

NOOOOOOO OMG NOT JAKE CRYING

the idea of him showing vulnerability is so sjgkjghjlsg i love it sm!! the tender little touches developing into outright hugs searching for comfort UGH i'm obsessed

the way you're going into full on worldbuilding has me hanging onto every word, it's like i'm being blessed with a full novel chapter by chapter in my inbox