#idk how i feel about this yet but its kind of taken from a bigger idea im playing with…

[ohmygodshesinsane]

Unlicensed | A Jily Micro-Oops

Lily Evans begrudgingly agrees to get in the car with classmate and sometime-foe James Potter and his not-quite-earned P-plates after a particularly rubbish day.

words: 1438 | for @jilymicro-oops | april prompt 14: ridiculous

read on ao3 or under the cut

Lily’s buckle clicked as Potter nudged the gearstick into ‘R’. He tossed his gaze back over his shoulder, one hand on the wheel, dark hair curling around the round rims of his overlarge specs. It was getting long, by school standards; she was surprised McGonagall hadn’t tapped him on the shoulder to send him for a cut. It softened him, though. The contours of his straight nose and the hard ridge of his forehead seemed friendlier, somehow. Or maybe she was just growing accustomed to the crinkles that came with one of his genuine smiles.

All the same, it was ridiculous that she would be sitting in his car, bag tucked between her ankles, all patches with its broken zip in the footwell of his beamer. Heated leather melted against her back, sanding the edges off the mid-July chill. She had pegged him as the sportscar sort, truth be told; but he wasn’t seventeen yet. Hand sanitiser sat in the drinkholder, and the car was empty, save for him and her and his bags in the boot. It was too clean for a bloke - especially one with red P-plates pinned to the windscreen. Plates he hadn’t earned.

“Is this your Mum’s?” Lily asked lightly. The car lurched. She grabbed the handle hanging above. Potter swore, running his fingers through his hair, and twisted his body to look out the back window.

“Yeah,” he admitted, never looking at her. “If you wouldn’t mind keeping - er, mum, about it, though —”

“Much cooler to let everyone think your parents got you a car for your birthday,” Lily smiled. He was doing her a favour, really, but she couldn’t resist. He was the only one in their year with any kind of access to independent transport as yet; the only one whose parents were permissive enough to let him zoom around in their car with a big fat ‘L’ stamped on his license. Lily had passed the theoretical with flying colours, but the only person in her family to hold a full license was her sister’s stupid boyfriend, and she would beg for rides before she’d condemn herself to listening to him boast for hours on end.

Potter lifted his foot off the brake, and the car hesitantly jerked back into the carpark. With a swing of the wheel he righted them, and so the navy BMW hopped its way out of the school gates. Potter’s brows knitted in concentration as he straightened in his seat, knuckles white.

“Er,” he said, checking his mirrors, “could you put the heat on? The whole driving and fiddling thing —”

“Don’t worry.” Lily leaned down. The car’s interface was impossibly flash, with a shiny touch-screen and a dozen different lights. It could make phone calls, skip songs, even - “It has a reverse camera, you know.”

Potter flicked the indicator on. “Yeah,” he said, a little distracted. “I wanted to learn the old-fashioned way.”

Lily’s eyebrows arched. “Nothing about this is old-fashioned. It’s an auto. It has Spotify.” She jabbed an accusing finger at the little black-and-green app on the car’s menu.

“I’m an old soul, Evans.” Lily winced as he accelerated into a tiny gap, earning a blast on the horn. “Ah, fuckwit, I was fine!” Lily snorted. Potter flashed her a look, but his eyes quickly returned to the road, sitting a smidgeon too close to the car in front. Kids spilled out of the school in the distinctive black-and-grey Hogwarts uniforms, backpacks bouncing, heading for cars in the line-up or swinging their legs over bikes. Lily ducked her head. The last thing she needed was for someone to dob her in - ‘a prefect in a car with an unlicensed driver, Miss, really!’ Potter had a reputation, too. The last thing she needed was for the girl-of-the-week to come after her. She tilted her head, wondering what, exactly, Potter would tell the current one, a clingy blonde who always glared at Lily if she dared to enter Glassons. Lily didn’t think they’d ever spoken, but she clearly held a grudge.

“Come on,” Potter said, drumming his fingers as they waited for the traffic lights to change. His eyes hung heavy on her skin, and she grimaced, knowing she looked like a loon. “I’m not that embarrassing, am I? I’m a bloody good football player. Got the winning try when we played Durmstrang the other week, you know.”

Lily’s foot tapped; as soon as she noticed it, she stopped, scared somehow that the worn toes would mark the car. She folded her hands in her lap and unfolded them, picking at her nails.

“I just… shouldn’t really be in here,” she said, guilt seeping through every word. “After everything with Sev…”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Potter said, frowning. “Snape’s a dick.”

“People will think I was in on it, though,” Lily said, eyes falling to the lock on the glovebox, shining in the afternoon sun. “I mean, I - you know, I do… what you did was… but if Sev’s mum calls the school or something, or one of his mates makes a fuss - it’s…” How could she explain? James Potter had had his name down for Hogwarts since his birth, and his parents donated generously and notoriously to the school. What did he know of scholarships and monthly meetings, the sneers of the Slytherins’ parents when she spoke at assembly? “Never mind,” she shrugged. “Thank you for the ride. You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to,” Potter answered. Lily froze. His jaw worked, a flush creeping up his neck. “You’ll sign it off for me, right?” he added quickly, laughing, flexing the veins in his hands. “I need all the hours I can get.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s illegal.”

“Mm… But?”

“You’re dreaming.”

“You’re facilitating.” Potter grinned cheekily. It was endearing, in its own strange way, and Lily’s stomach swooped. He’s such a tosser. They took off, cruising now that they’d escaped the speed-limited school zone. Lily gazed out the window, through the maze of low brick homes to the rippling ocean beyond, blue and brilliant. Why had Potter agreed to drive her? They’d been partnered up for their English project, sure, but they’d never exactly got along. Was it just because of lunch? Did he pity her?

“It’s a left,” she said, when they made it over the bridge. Potter shoulder-checked - good job - and slipped into the turning lane.

“Evans,” he said, braking.

“Yeah?”

“It’s not on you, you know.” His voice lowered. Lily swallowed. His hazel eyes landed on hers, round and sincere, with an intensity that made her heart race. “What happened’s not your fault.”

She couldn’t stand it, with that mole on his cheek and the press of his mouth.

“I don’t know,” Lily said.

“I’m telling you it isn’t,” Potter insisted. “I chose to do it. I’ll tell them all that. I don’t,” and he inhaled deep, hauling in the breath like a fishing net, fingers splayed in his nest of black hair, “I don’t want you dealing with the consequences of my actions.” His features firmed, resolved. “I won’t let that happen.”

Lily’s mouth dried. She tried to play it off with a chuckle, folding her arms across her chest.

“I don’t think it’s really up to you, whether they blame me. They will. It doesn’t matter.” It mattered more than anything, but only for someone like Lily. The holes in her socks seemed to gape over her feet.

“No, Evans,” Potter said, guiding the car shakily around the corner now. Had he ever been down this road before? Tufts of grass moped amongst the brown dustbowls of the front yards, tacky gnomes and old bicycles decorating the paths to the front doors. A picket sign warned off doorknockers and Jehovah’s; a collarless dog lifted its leg on the slender wood. Lily shifted in her seat, conscious of the leather and the new-car air freshener and the little sticker on the inside of the glass windscreen that noted the car as being one of regular, reliable services. “You’re my project partner,” he said. “It matters. You know, now, I guess, you - well, yeah. You matter to me.”

They hit the speedbump too quick, and Lily’s body jolted over the seatbelt, straps digging into her body, bag slamming against her leg. The brakes screeched. Potter hurriedly spun the wheel, bringing them back onto their route. Lily’s pulse pounded. Why would he say that? It didn’t make sense. Nothing about today made sense.

“Sure,” she said, face knitting in thought. “I’ll believe it when you stop trying to kill me.”

“Come on, Evans,” Potter smiled, eyes glittering. “The fear is half the fun.���

[n0tamused]

dottore having to dispose of a faulty clone (maybe bc they were threatening reader) and then handfeeding reader parts of it like cannibalism as a metaphor for love…. do we see the vision or is this a little too 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 💔💔

A/n: pookie you're all good, thank you for feeding my brain worms with this idea I'm sending you smooches. I do hope I executed this well. I had a lot in my head that I wanted to write for this but I didn't want this to turn into a word scramble so here's this. Enjoy <3

Content: Dottore x GN reader, dark content(?), a bit yandere, implied unhealthy relationship, implied cannibalism, cannibalism as a metaphor for love, idk what else to tag as I never posted something like this so if anything else needs tagging feel free to lemme know

Words: 735

Several candles lined the polished oak table, its surface smooth and almost sticky, the light rippling over the dark lines of the carvings on top like little light bugs chasing one another. The golden hues danced over the plates as well, but the dim light scarcely allowed for a good look at the dishes.

The fork extending forward to your lips was the only thing that held your attention long enough to be observed, taken in fully, lips closing around the bit of meat and vegetables. The juice and oil fills your mouth, sinking past your teeth and around your gums, the taste is rich yet stale all at once. You couldn’t comment on it, you didn't know what to say about it. Not with the Doctor sitting at your side and being the one to feed you so, so gently.

It's hard to remember when was the last time he looked so gentle, kind even, perhaps when he was lighting up the candles with such care, as if his own breath would blow the flames into a blaze, allowing you to see your plate in full.

The meat was well done, seasoned to your liking, and something told you it was Dottore’s own hand who prepared it, gave it his all to make it so perfect for consumption. Parts of him were laced through every sensation, every smell and every bite. Your own plate is set before him and he's cutting all your bites, spearing pieces of meat and salad onto the fork before feeding it to you, making sure you ate well.

The dull ache in your arms is brought back into memory as you languidly chew on a bite, and your fingers absentmindedly touch over your sleeves over where the bruises lay, feeling the ache grow.

“Do they still hurt you?” His voice called out amidst smoky smells and brown fog, calling you to the present. “Have you gotten any rest at all, my dear?” He added, his head tilting in your direction, his bird-like mask not allowing you for a glimpse of his ruby eyes, but from underneath you can see glimpses of the scars peeking through, teasing your eyes. For some reason he chose to wear it here, now, only puzzling you further. 

“No.. no.. they're fine… I’ll get some rest later tonight, sir..” you reply as you swallow and watch how he grimaced at the title, and you nearly cough from how big this bite was, but you would have taken a bigger bite had Dottore allowed you to feast yourself. Perhaps not, but you told yourself you would. Be it the rich taste or some other factor, you yearned to take up each bone from the meat and lick it clean, sucking out the marrow from within and letting it melt into your guts.

Would he be satisfied then?

Would you be?

The candles flicker. He's still looking at you

“Are you still afraid? I've already told you so, and explained it many times. You have nothing to fear here. This was just an error in the system which will not ever happen again.. and you shouldn't have been around to witness it, anyhow..”. You have to wonder how he can say all this with so little fear. Then again, the clone was his creation. He knew it inside and out, every crevice and every wire.

“I understand.. it's just that.. I'd rather not face the others now..not after that..” 

Truth be told, having him around was also slightly unnerving, as he wore nearly an identical face as the one that harmed you. They were the same, but also not. He was gentle, but he was not.

The one that hurt you was long disposed of and would never harm you again, but Dottore was once the one that hurt you, and now he has poured himself out before you, all for your pleasure and the sweet poison of safety and love.

He hopes to convey it to you through each meticulously put bite, every sip he graces your lips with. He had cut himself open for you and would do so again, just as he hurt you through that error. It came as easy as drinking and breathing. 

“That’s understandable. I assure you are safe, and however dark the night may get - I'll be there with you… But for now, you must eat, not fear. Open wide..”

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

[66sharkteeth]

Hello! Idk if you are still faking asks but of so thank you in advance if this gets answered!

I'm not gonna lie, it's a bit disturbing how the majority is cheering on Rex and the side he's taken. Though that side might have some points, I just can not see them as people I'd like to ever support or think they are doing it with good intentions in mind. But anyway, I apologize if I just can't understand or root for this gang. I know things aren't black or white but i just see more bad than good. And I hope that's ok.

The only think I dint understand and kind of made me not like Rex so much anymore is that when he is fighting Desmond he mentions something along the lines of "you already met my scyon" and that just raised more questions for me. One of the mane reasons Rex felt hurt and betrayed and thought it was all Desmon and Lys's fault for "betraying him" was because he couldn't under why they would turn on him (it was when he still didn't know about the other part of himself). But now he knows, he knows its the Scyon that hurt and attacked them. Hence why they had such a reaction. I've seen people stating that yes, Rex was betrayed! And I just...I don't see it at all especially when the og gang had every right to react the way they did.

This monnet kind of just made me distance myself from Rex I guess. Because he knew the scyon was the one to hurt the gang, the reason why they reacted the way they did and yet that does nothing for him. I don't think this is bad writing, nit even the slightest. Cause I know some people in real life would have such a reaction. We are flawed beings and some weren't thought or leaned how act to know their actions or way of thinking is flawed etc or self centered. It's a process everyone can go threw in different ways. So I hope maybe Rex one day can learn more as he goes.

But yeah, was there something behind the scenes we didn't see for Rex to not even question that the Scyon hurt Desmond or for him to not even care about that fact?

I still love the comic a lot and its one of 2 other webtoons I follow religiously and have given money for passes! The art and world building I feel like is really good and has made me so inspired to make a fan art and fic for this world (I'm just too afraid and shy to share I guess but I'd love to one day!).

I hope you have a good day and I apologize for any speaking or grammar mistakes I've made. English isn't my first language and I'm also dyslexic 😅

Tbh, I think the only people who are 100% wrong are the ones who think one side is 100% right.

Like you said, the situation isn't black and white (heck, it's even one of the major themes of the story), and both sides have points and flaws, some bigger than others. I know people are having fun cheering for Rex's "corruption arc" (I even love to tease about it), but that's exactly what it is- a corruption arc.

Rex has points and fair criticism, but it's important to also remember the environment he's in. He's Blan Corp's prized pig that they need to keep happy until they get that memory. Other than Bag Girl, Rex is basically surrounded in an echo chamber of yes-men. So no, you didn't really miss anything. Rex is just currently in an environment where everyone is telling him "Yeah! It WAS abusive of Desmond to make you do all those chores!! What a jerk! >:(" and Rex going "yeah, you're right!! I am the victim here! Tell me more."

He's with the villains now and there is a lot of manipulation* going on.(*Side note: Mostly from Jericho and his Scion, to be clear. You could argue Nia as well, but I kind of maintain that she is just as manipulated and in a kind of equally tough position. Remember, Blan Corp is the ticket to getting her mom back and she's kind of in just as big of an echo chamber of "human bad, blank superior" as Rex)

That said, please don't give up hope on him haha. Rex can get a really sharp tongue when he's pissed (as seen in the latest episode with his encounter with Lyss), but he's still the same Rex at heart. He could never take the steps that Jericho is willing to take, and I... Tried to make that clear in ep 133 with Desmond's criticism of Rex's changes. Desmond asked if he really has it in his (half-human) heart to follow in Jericho's foot steps, and I like to think (most of us) know he doesn't- At least not as far as Jericho. Desmond planted the seed of doubt in ep 133 and I don't intend to just...ignore that seed in my writing of what's coming up.

TLDR: Yeah! Rex is being a jerk right now after a lot of manipulation, gaslighting, and just all around anxiety. But that's what a corruption arc is. Only time will tell if he starts to realize what a jerk he's being, but I certainly didn't show him hesitating after what Desmond said because it went in one ear and out the other. That's definitely going to be living rent free in the back of his mind for now.

[moonofiron]

I have been thinking about Gintoki since quite a while and the conclusion I have reached is that the goofier a man, the more intimate he can get.

Here's something I've never tried before. It starts with my perception of Gintoki's kinks and collapses into a narrative about how a particular kink will play out when he's with his female SO.

(I think what I have done here is called an "HC" but I am not sure. All HCs I've read are in bullet points and this is... not in bullet points. So idk... I'm just out here tryna get this fucking concept OFF MY CHEST.)

Anime: Gintama

Characters: Sakata Gintoki x whoever you imagine his female SO to be!

Genre: Smut, explicit sexual content, kinks 🥵

Rating: M

Synopsis: Gintoki melts at the sight of her in a plain white t-shirt and panties

Word Count: 2,386

Minors, click here.

I think, above all, Gintoki has a MASSIVE kink for going bareback. But it manifests itself a little differently for him. Internally, he absolutely refuses to cum anywhere else. But he's also super conscious of his partner's needs and will cum anywhere his babe wants him to. It delights him that she's so eager. Even though it leaves him feeling a little unsatisfied, it's not a big deal because he feels so strongly for her. He does love cumming deep in the back of his partner's throat because it feels so similar to what he thinks it would feel like cumming inside her.

It's a tricky kink to work with because under his lazy-bum facade, he actually has a super strong sense of responsibility. This is also why he refuses to have casual sex with just anyone. He's the kind who has a deeply intimate, committed, and long-term relationship with his partner.

His "kink" is a completely unsaid thing though. He will never explicitly talk about it. He loves dirty talk (anything goes, really) but this is one thing he will not say out loud. So, essentially, his partner will never hear him say stuff like "let daddy fill you up/I'm gonna cum inside you/ Daddy's gonna fill up that tight, pretty cunt".

No, he's not shy. Nor is he a prude. He's just a sucker for the quietness around the act of him filling up his partner. He digs the submission of a woman just taking him in fully, without making it into a "kink" or reducing the act to something they both occasionally get off on. He wants his woman to treat it as routine, ordinary, and natural. Almost like aftercare. Nobody says out loud that they want to be taken care of after a rough fuck. It's expected and unsaid. The unsaid but sure nature of filling up his partner is what makes it unbearably initmate for him.

He absolutely can not control the pleasure of being nestled inside her in his most tender, vulnerable, yet powerful moments. He breaks and lights up at the same damn time. His focus is sharp and only on the way her body reacts, not the words they share. He stares intently and deeply into her eyes when he cums inside her, making her flinch at the intensity he is capable of. It is in these moments she fully grasps what he means when he says he owns her.

If his partner does mention him cumming inside her, (eg: I want you to cum inside me/ fill me up Daddy) he will grind his teeth and cover her mouth instantly and harshly, maybe put a couple of fingers in her mouth so she can't speak. If he says something, it'll be along the lines of, "Just shut up and take it," as he thrusts harder and deeper.

He will twitch inside his partner, grow slightly bigger, and cum sooner than usual. Subtle but controlled cues like his grip on her hair getting harder will let her know that this is actually something he really digs.

The first few times his partner and he get down and dirty, he will do anything to please her and in turn, himself. He'll lazily make her sit on his face in the mornings, finger her a lot (anywhere, anytime), make her fool around with toys for him, ask her to rub herself while he stares intently and licks his lips, and let her suck his cock. He'll fuck her when he wants but it'll always be with a condom. He'll let her ride the brains out of him, too. But, always with a condom.

When he absolutely can not take it any longer (say, about 4 months into a relationship), he will break. He will break at the sight of her in plain white panties and a white t-shirt, doing her own thing.

He'll be sitting on his chair, behind the desk. He'll clear his throat to grab her attention. He'll beckon her with his thick finger and she'll think it's going to be their usual fucking and loving. She'll bite her lips and exaggerate the sway in her hips as she walks towards him. The performative nature of the sensual way she walks towards him will make her breathe slightly heavily and the first few baby spots of wetness will bloom in the crotch of her panties.

When she finally reaches him, a smirk will be playing on his lips and his eyes will look sleepy at first. He'll hold her waist lightly and look up at her. She'll look down at him, smiling, a coy finger in her mouth and her other hand on his shoulder.

She'll notice a difference in the way he handles her. She'll notice that he's looking at her with such greed that it's making her falter. She'll sense something is off and ask if everything is ok.

"Hmm," he'll say in a deep voice against her stomach.

He'll slowly turn her around and make her sit on his lap. She'll turn back to look at him wide eyed and smiling shyly. It usually takes a solid 12 minutes of kissing, biting, and frantic touching to get him this hard. She'll still be a little taken aback by Gintoki's seriousness. He's usually goofy and playful or an outright sadistic and sexy beast.

He'll open up his zipper and its cool metal will make her squirm. His warm and fat cock will spring out and she'll feel its sweaty stickiness against her lower back. She'll gasp at and throb for his unusual, unprovoked arousal and quickly reach for his desk-drawer where he stashes all the condoms. She'll take one out and start to open up the wrapper only to have Gintoki take the half-opened condom from her delicate hands in between his teeth and spit it out far into the corner of the room; his hands will never leave her waist.

Her eyes will widen again and she'll start to say something but Gintoki will tilt his head and give her a look that'll make her shiver and shut up. A mix of fear and anticipation will make her stomach drop. She'll be dripping by now and surprised at how less it takes for her to be utterly slick and ready for him.

She'll find it unbearably intimidating to look him in the eye and will turn her head, only the find herself reflected back at her in the mirror next to them. Her nipples will be hard through her t-shirt, her naked legs will be between Gintoki's clothed ones.

Gintoki will use just one of his fingers to slide her white panties to the side and position the tip of his cock at her wetness.

He'll slowly breathe into her ear "I'm going to fuck you raw and deep..."

He'll wait just a moment for her reaction before saying, "or not at all."

He'll put his hand around her chin and make her turn her head to look at him.

“And, you will stay shut about it the entire time, yeah?"

She'll nod her head ever so slightly with parted lips and then bite her lip nervously and unconsciously. She'll have already started moving against the tip of his cock, making it completely slick with her wetness. Her clit will be throbbing in an anticipation she has never felt with Gintoki.

Without another word, he'll thrust himself inside of her in one long and quick motion. A silk moan will escape her mouth; she's never actually felt his warmth inside of her.

He'll fuck her painfully slow; she'll feel his girth stretch her out inch by inch. The sloppy and messy sound of the base of his cock rubbing against her clit after every stroke will be loud and clear in the afternoon quiet; it won't be covered by the usual frantic slapping of his balls against her clit. He'll be holding on to her waist so she doesn't try to move and change the rhythm or speed.

“Do you feel it?”

"Yea.." she'll moan.

“Do you like what you hear?”

“uhum..” is all she'll manage to say. She usually has no issues keeping up with conversations and dirty talk but she'll find it extremely hard to keep up with this particular conversation.

"Let me look at you pinching your nipples."

She'll catch him looking at her in the mirror and will immediately get to work.

"Harder. Don't cheat."

"Yes, sir."

"That's a good girl."

She'll falter at this and her legs will buckle. She'll feel Gintoki's hands hold her as he'll get up from the chair. He'll sit on the floor right in front of the mirror, still buried deep inside of her.

He'll snake his hand around to her clit and rub her agonizingly slowly, all the while fucking her with slow and deep thrusts. His other hand will be on top of her hands cupping her breasts. Her head will be thrown back on his shoulder and her waist and hips will match Gintoki's movements and rhythm. Everytime she'll be about to cum, he'll kiss and nibble at her jaw and stop rubbing her clit, edging her for hours on that day.

They'll eventually stop moving. They'll be panting because they can't take this relentless teasing anymore. He'll pull out and stand up, pick her up in her arms and take her to the futon where he'll lay her on her back. She'll spread herself wide and thrust her hips forward, holding his gaze all the while.

Gintoki will lick his fingers and stroke her swollen clit a few times before he starts to fuck her hard and deep. But, he'll still maintain a slow and steady tempo. The moment she'll start arching her back, he'll pull out and grin at her. Every time he'll pull out, she'll see his cock twitching, aching to be back inside. She'll notice it's equally hard for him to be edging for so long. She'll smirk. Gintoki will narrow his eyes at her. How dare she.

He'll start fucking her again, painfully slow, waiting to strike at the right moment. The moment he feels her back arching again, he'll pull out again. But, this time, instead of grinning at her and waiting for her to stop writhing, he'll slap her clit hard and then immediately rub it hard and fast. She'll go into a frenzy of screams and moans and her entire body will shiver, she will pull him down towards her and wrap her legs around him, his hand still not relenting her clit.

When she'll be completely spent, swollen, and sweating, her hair stuck to her breasts and neck, Gintoki will turn her around. She'll arch her back a bit, just for him. He'll guide his cock in the tight folds of her thighs, straight into her beautiful cunt, and start to fuck her at a slow pace all over again. She'll moan deep into the pillow, her face will be flushed from all the work, and her hands will be trying to reach at the back for his thighs. Gintoki will lie on top of her as he fucks her from behind. The moment she'll feel his weight on her, his sweat on her back, she'll cum around him, gushing, and the noises will get sloppier and louder.

She'll groan his name out loud in the pillow and he'll have turned her to her side by then. He'll put her head on his arm, spooning her. He'll hold her leg up as he'll thrust deep inside of her from behind. He'll hold her chin and turn her face to his to look at her flushed face, her mouth shaped a perfect small o, her eyes closed, eyebrows raised, in a kind of pleasure she's never felt before.

"Open your eyes."

She'll fling open her eyes and find him looking at her with an expression that makes her weak in her knees. She'll buck and jerk as she'll feel him finally going slightly faster with harder and shorter strokes. She'll feel him twitching inside her and she'll clench tighter around him, never breaking from his electrifying gaze that tells her he owns her completely.

A wild guttural sound she's never heard will escape Gintoki's throat. He'll moan her name hard as she'll feel his warmth spreading inside of her in bursts. She'll move to kiss his petal like lips, only to be thrusted once again with such force that her eyes will widen with the suddeness of it. He'll ease out of her slowly, in short thursts, and once he's fully out, he'll lift her leg higher to get a better view of her cunt, messy and slick with his cum dripping out. He'll throb, and be unable to control himself, and give her one last deep and hard thrust again. She'll make a high-pitched squeak at the suddeness again.

He'll stay inside her for a while, throbbing still. He'll be too spent to move but he'll kiss her face and feel her sweaty body with his firm hands fervently.

They'll both fall asleep, exhausted, in each other's arms.

Gintoki will wake up before her. It'll be dinner time. She'll wake up to him by her side in a towel, wet and fresh from his bath. He'll be wiping her legs and thighs with a warm and wet cloth, and smiling while he watches her wake up. She'll start to say something but he'll cut her off and say, "Dinner's ready, doll." He'll kiss her jaw and then her forehead and leave the room.

She'll sit up in bed, her entire body will be aching. She'll notice a packet on the corner of the bed. She'll pick it up and see that it has a morning-after pill, a pregnancy test, and a follow-up appointment with her usual gynaecologist. She'll blush a deep a red when she sees a glass of water by her bed-side.

"When the fuck did he become so...un-lazy? Where has he been hiding this side of him?!" She'll say out loud in disbelief.

//

Afterthougts:

In the first few months, Gintoki will make a conscious effort to get accustomed to his partner's menstruation cycle. He'll make sure he knows the days she's least fertile so he can minimize the risk of her getting knocked up. If that's not intimate and hella caring idk what the fuck is.

[orionwhispers]

Bravado // Tommy Shelby Imagine

(A/N - its been a long ass time and i wanted to ease myself back into writing but this ended up being long and also super super angsty. sorry that this illness imagine came during covid idk whats going on with my imagination lol. love you guys SO much thank you for always being there. reblogs, comments and likes mean everything to me.)

trigger warnings - LOTS of angst. fluff. implied smut. my hc that tommy has a fear of illness, bad descriptions of hospitals. 

He knew something wasn’t right the minute his car pulled into the driveway and you weren’t waiting for him under the great concrete arch, with that smile on your face that made his knees buckle and heart race like he was a love struck teenager.

You were always there as soon as he came home. Barefoot in a broderie dress in the summer with tousled hair and baby pink toenails. Wrapped in a hand knit blanket with fire flushed cheeks and woollen socks in the winter - even running across the gravel and into his arms in the middle of a storm, the ice cold rain whipping across both of your faces as you kissed under the light of the moon.

No matter how shit his day or week or month was, no matter what stained his hands or darkened his heart, no matter what lay heavy and hard deep in his gut, seeing you made everything vanish in the night air like wisps of smoke. You made everything worth it.

He refused to give into fear, he wasn’t that kind of man, so he swallowed all of the nagging thoughts and apprehensions as he came up to the dark foggy windows and the iron cast door. It felt strange turning his key in the lock without the weight of you in his arms or the sticky peach kisses you left down his jaw and neck, the smell of the vanilla in your hair and lavender on your skin.

The second thing that sent a jolt of white hot electricity down his spine was Mary, watching him anxiously and wringing her hands in the hallway. Usually, she was calm and collected, taking his jacket and leather travel bag with her signature placid smile and gentle fingers. Usually she would return to the kitchen and finish up whatever she was making - a hearty roast lamb with rosemary and garlic and glazed potatoes or a pheasant pie with honeyed carrots, always followed by a three layer chocolate ganache cake that was so thick and rich you practically had to saw through the sponge. She would always have dinner piping hot and dripping with gravy by the time the two of you returned downstairs, no matter how many hours it took for you to get... reacquainted.

Now she looked sheepish and pale, her skin almost translucent under the syrupy yellow lights. There was something about the way she stood, as still as a wraith, that made his blood run cold.

“Mary. Where is she?”

“Mr Shelby, I - ” Her voice was strained and hesitant, like a slowly fraying rope.

“Where is my wife?”

She moved forward, creases forming around her eyes. “We tried ringing you in Liverpool but the hotel said that you had already left, so we...”

“You rang me? Why? What’s happened?” He couldn’t hold back the desperation in his voice, and it lingered and festered around them both like a poisonous gas.

“Mrs Shelby came down with something a few days ago, we thought that it was just a common cold but unfortunately she seems to be getting worse.”

He tore upstairs before he could even think, his shoes leaving perfect muddy footprints on the cream carpet. He almost slipped at the top, and he lurched forward, his hands reaching out and holding onto the portrait hanging above the stairs for stability.

It was the oil of the two of you. A soft, personal picture that revealed more than he ever possibly could. The love in your gazes, the hint of a soft, drunk smile on the dangerous gangsters face as you leaned into him, melting into him like butter, him holding onto you as though he couldn’t bear to let you go. It was his favourite photo, one that always washed a sense of calmness over him, a reminder of the woman that he loved and the way he felt around you. But now he felt as if was riding out a terrible storm.

He lived his life with no fear, he was capable and practical and used to the sound of bullets and the copper sweet smell of blood. There was really only one thing, one terrible thing that he couldn’t control, and that was what drove him crazy.

Sickness.

It gnawed at his insides like a rabid dog, clawed under his skin and settled behind his ribs. Losing someone he loved was like ripping out a piece of his heart straight from his chest, and he knew better than anyone what it was like to lose somebody to a violent, quick death - the pull of a trigger or the smack of a fist. At least in those moments he could lock them away in his mind, he could leap in front of a bullet or crack the neck of any man who dared to get too close to you, but there was almost nothing he could do to stop sickness, and the devastation it caused.

When you first met him it had been a surprise, almost amusing, that this powerful God of a man had these small little quirks. His house was always sparkling clean and smelling of Lysol, his fruit bowls were filled with citrus fruits and round, plump blueberries. He always made sure you were wrapped up warm in the winter, always placing his coat around your shoulders and bringing an extra pair of gloves in case you forgot yours. It was adorable, the way he took care of you,

It wasn’t till a little bit later when you learnt of those he had lost. His mother and his childhood sweetheart taken away from him much too soon. It broke your heart when he told you late one night of the sallow tint of their skin and the way he could almost see them vanishing from earth, the way that illness had moulded and changed those he loved the most.

You understood.

Your best friends older sister had died of tuberculosis when you were young. The elderly woman across the street from your first flat had passed away from a bout of horrendous smallpox. Your brother lost his first child to pneumonia. Times were changing but the fear of disease was ever present. Medicine was improving and so was knowledge, but still there remained a huge, dark cloud of what could happen, one that always hung around your husbands head.

——————————————-

All Tommy could think was the worst as he ran through the landing. His heart was in his ears and his bones felt loose, like the sweet liquorice the two of you would share at the pictures. He came to a stop by the bedroom door, tentatively pressing his palm onto the wood and ever so slightly pushing it open, listening to the gentle creak it made.

The room was warm. The lace curtains were pulled shut, and your favourite lavender candles were flickering on your vanity, casting syrupy shadows against the wall. He exhaled loudly as he saw you, bundled up under a mountain of satin sheets and hand crocheted blankets, your hair splayed across the pillows.

He moved to your bedside, pretending not to notice the large, untouched jug of water and the tissue box next to you, hoping and silently praying that you weren’t sick - just asleep and waiting for him, ready to wrap your arms around his neck.

You were silent, your lips parting every so often as you breathed, your chest rising and falling. He reached out gently, as though he was picking up shards of glass, and brushed his fingers against your cheek. Your forehead was beading with sweat, your cheeks flushed, and yet your skin was ice cold to the touch. He recoiled quickly, his heart dropping like a weight into his gut, and he inhaled a shaky, deep breath.

He saw something curled up beside your hands, a fluffy white cloud with sparkling emerald green eyes trained on him. Despite everything, he smiled. He thought of your birthday - of strawberry cheesecake and champagne, and surprising you with a ribbon wrapped little kitten as you woke up. He thought of that day often. How you smiled and leapt onto him with tears in your eyes, his whole world blissfully quiet as he spent the day in bed with you and your new best friend.

He would have preferred a big dog, one with sharp teeth and a menacing gaze to ward of visitors whilst he was away. But you were drawn to the tiny, malnourished runt of the litter who was scared of his own shadow. A kitten no bigger than the size of his clenched fist. A little white hairball who only ate and drank from fine pink saucers. A cat that had a very frustrating habit of crawling in the bedroom right as Tommy’s hand was up your skirt and his lips on the sweet spot of your neck, the tiny thing mewling and crying until you picked him up and nuzzled him into your chest.

He was a horse lover through and through, and never saw himself having time for any other pets. But in the summer when you saw the litter from one of John’s barn cats and fell in love with the sweet baby who mewled and cried and crawled right into your lap - he knew that he would give you anything and everything you wanted.

Including a cat who refused to accept that Tommy was the man of the house.

“Hello, boy.” He said, leaning over to scratch Comet under the chin, using a voice he only reserved for the two of you. “Have you been looking after my girl whilst I’ve been gone?”The cat meowed loudly in reply, pressing his head into Tommy’s palm but not moving from his spot beside you.

Tommy suddenly felt you shift under him and his heart lurched into his throat. He turned to face you, cupping the side of your clammy face as your eyelids fluttered open, blinking under the candlelight. A rush of red hot heat built up in his belly as you registered him, that angelic smile growing on your face, your tired eyes glimmering with recognition of the man you loved.

“Tommy?”

“Hi, Princess.”

You smiled sadly. “You’ve been gone for weeks - I missed you.”

He felt his brows crease as he rubbed along your jawline softly, trying to stop you from falling back asleep. He felt panic in his throat as sour as vomit, and he tried to bite back the nagging feeling that something was very wrong.

“No, sweetheart, I’m early. It’s only Thursday. I left on Monday.”

“Oh.” You said softly, your voice as gentle as the breeze rustling through the trees outside. “Well let me welcome you back properly - let me make you a lemon drizzle or a...” You lifted your head from the pillow and shuffled under your blanket, but he pressed his hands against your shoulder and held you down.

“No. You’re staying right here.”

“But - ”

“No.”

“Hmm. Don’t leave me, Tommy.”

“Never.” He said, his tone firm and cast like stone. He stroked your hair softly as your breathing slowed, but it didn’t nothing to quell the hard thump of his heart in his chest.

——————————-

Tommy left the room as quietly as he could after you had fallen asleep in his arms. He hadn’t wanted to move, not when you were pressed against his chest, looking ethereal but vacant, sweat beading under your brow and your face lacking colour. He wanted to stay with you, curled up by his side, his fingers laced through yours, the sound of your heart thumping in his ears.

But he was a man of action, and seeing you there - your lips cracked and dry, shudders passing through your body and goosebumps raised over your skin - he couldn’t fight the fiery urge to do everything in his power to make you feel alright again.

He found Mary waiting outside the door, chewing on the skin of her lips and swaying on the balls of her feet in anticipation. He grabbed her by the arm, harder than he meant to and something he would apologise for later, and pulled her downstairs, determined to let you rest whilst he got some answers. As soon as they reached the drawing room he spun her around, clenching his jaw and pointing a finger at the anxious maid.

“Where the fuck is the doctor? Why isn’t he here?”

“Mr Shelby.” She said, stepping forward calmly. “We phoned Doctor Moore and he came on Tuesday to see her.”

“Tuesday?” He seethed. “My wife has been ill since Tuesday and no one called me?”

Mary raised her hands in defeat, making it clear that the decision wasn’t hers to make. “He said it was nothing of concern . He gave her some antibiotics and told her to rest. She asked us herself not to call you, she knows how you.. worry.”

He ignored her sugar coated attempt to quell his anger, but if anything it made his vision darken. “When it’s my wife, It is always my concern.”

“Mr Shelby, we were just doing what we were told. As soon as we noticed she wasn’t getting better we phoned the surgery again, but Doctor Thomas was out for the day and said he didn’t think it was necessary to come round again, so we -”

“I don’t give a fuck. My wife is the number one priority. Ring every doctor in England if you have to, get somebody out here now to see my wife.”

He stormed away, anger pulsating through his veins, but he stopped suddenly, and threw out over his shoulder:

“And call Doctor Moore’s ’office. Tell him to expect a visit from the blinders soon.”

———————————————————

Once, when you were first dating, you found Tommy at the door to your flat at midnight, with scraped knuckles and blood dripping from his nose. You let him in, cleaned him up and sat with him in the bath until his skin was clear and his breathing was even. He knew that night, as you were pressed against his chest and his lips were pressed to your scalp that he was truly, madly and completely in love with you.

He remembered waking up the next morning, love drunk and blissful, and finding the bed beside him empty. He found you in the kitchen, wincing slightly and pressing a hot water bottle to your belly as you buttered a few pieces of toast. He rushed to your side with eyes as wide as saucers, concern lacing the features that were usually ice cold and hard as stone. You were completely baffled as he held you at arms length, his bright cerulean eyes trailing up and down your body for any signs of injury he might have missed. You were bewildered at the sight of the powerful man practically on his knees as he made sure you were alright, and you bit back a giggle as his warm palms spread over your abdomen.

“What is it? Whats wrong?”

“Tommy. Sweetheart.” You said softly, bringing his gaze level to yours. “It’s just - you know - that time of the month.”

He brushed off your embarrassment and ran his fingers through your hair, pressing a uncharacteristically gentle kiss to your forehead, sending a swarm of butterflies around the pain in your stomach.

“Do you need anything?” He asked, half ready to run down to the corner shop and buy any amount of painkillers or chocolate bars or your favourite lavender tea that you might need; not caring who saw the seemingly terrifying gang leader in the street with an armful of strawberry laces and salt water fudges.

You smiled like the summer sun and he melted, pulling you close as you whispered in the shell of his ear that you only needed him, and that was all you ever needed.

That was the first time you fully saw the extent of Tommy’s fear, but it definitely wasn’t the last. He knew he wanted you forever and always, and it took only six months of neck kisses and pillow talk, red hot jealousy and possessive hands across your skin and dancing in the rain and falling asleep under the pale yellow moon for him to put a ring on your finger. You were both consumed by your love, as though it was the only thing that mattered, it was insatiable and powerful - the wonderful mix of the devil and his sweet little angel.

And with that, came the good and the bad.

Like when you got food poisoning after Arthur cooked you a Sunday lunch to cheer you up whilst Tommy was gone. He came home to you retching over the toilet bowl with Mary holding back your hair, and swore that he would kill his brother with his own hands. Or when you slipped on ice and broke your arm while out with friends in London, and Tommy went ballistic and tried to ban you from ever leaving the house. It was just in his nature, how he always made sure you walked on the side furthest from the road, kept an arm slung around you whenever you were together, kept his eyes alert and vigilant no matter where you were - always looking out for his girl.

But he had never been like this.

———————————————————-

You were falling in and out of sleep. Waking up drowsy and heavy headed, squinting under bright lights, an ache in your skull and a burning in your throat. Every so often you felt a pinch in your upper arm, a squeeze on your palm, a kiss on your forehead - but you always drifted back into unconsciousness.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed when you woke up. The room was dark and you could hear the wind howling and whipping rain across the windows. You felt all too hot and all too cold at the same time, and the bed was damp with sweat. You struggled and tried to sit up, your head swaying and feeling as heavy as one of Tommy’s marble statues; as if you had been carved up and moulded. You could hear voices out in the hall, and unsteadily got to your feet, moving towards the noises.

“Pneumonia?” You heard through the thick wooden door, instantly recognising your husbands voice. “That’s impossible.”

“Sir...”

“Fucking. Impossible.” You knew his teeth were clenched.

The other man cleared his throat.“I know that it’s hard to hear, Mr Shelby, but your wife is very sick.”

“Just...” You felt your heart flutter and clench in your chest as the sound of his broken words, could practically feel his desperation and you wanted nothing more than to hold him. “Just tell me how to make her better.”

The second man spoke again, his voice softening and lowering, something you knew Tommy would hate. “Mr Shelby, the first round of antibiotics didn’t work and that means that it’s time for something stronger. Usually I would suggest the Birmingham hospital but I don’t think it’s equipped for...” He paused, trying to think over his words carefully. He wanted to convey the severity of the situation but also didn’t want to risk getting a bullet in his head from your very protective husband. “...This kind of reaction. I recommend we send her down to London for extra testing.”

“London? That’ll take two fucking hours. How the fuck can you recommend letting my wife travel that far? Are you out of your fucking mind?”

“I’m my opinion this is the wisest choice to make, but unfortunately that could mean your wife might get worse before she gets better.”

“Worse than she already is? That’s not an option.”

The man you assumed was the doctor was insistent, trying his best to portray the severity of the situation but failing as your hardheaded husband had already come to a decision.

“I’ll look after her here. She’s safest with me.”

Once Tommy had spoken that was the final result, and the doctor slinked away into the darkness and shook his head. You remained peering from behind the door, your tongue between your teeth and your heart hammering.

Tommy took one look at you and frowned, scooping you in his arms like a baby despite your protests. He ignored you, acting playfully and cheerful but you could feel his heated skin and the see flare of his nostrils. You wanted to help him but didn’t know how, and let him tuck you under the covers once again. He kissed your crown and stroked your hair and you wanted to speak but no words would leave your mouth.

“You stay there this time. You know I have no problem with tying you to the bed.”

You rolled your eyes as he left, and his clenched fists and tightened shoulders told you all you needed to know.

————————————————-

Comet watched from his spot beside you as Tommy wrestled with the fire. He had noticed you shivering despite your high temperature, and bundled you up in blankets whilst sparking matches beside the fireplace. There were raindrops across his shoulders, evidence that he had been outside and to the log store right at the end of the property - a job that had always been for the Groundskeeper. Your precious cat nudged the tips of your fingers as you sighed and watched your husband throw kindling onto the coal, a deep unease settling over your gut.

“Tommy, my love, I’m fine.” It wasn’t exactly true but you felt he needed to hear it. But you could practically see your words wash over him and evaporate like ocean spray.

He was shaking a metal tin in his palm as he worked, and you groaned and let your head hit the pillow as he pulled out two round chalky tablets. You winced as he placed them beside your glass, your mouth already tasting like the sour talc medicine you had come to loathe. He raised his eyebrows and shot you a look that told you he wasn’t far off plugging your nose with his fingers to force you to swallow, and you childishly stuck up two fingers as you took them.

Your stomach rumbled with nausea and you bit back the bile in your throat as you settled into the pillows. You watched your husband as he pulled off his crisp white shirt, revealing his taut tan stomach and the deep ink tattoos that you loved to trace with your fingertips and your lips. There was something about him standing there, with those damn cerulean eyes and hidden muscles, that boyish hair and slender fingers that you wanted desperately around your throat, that made a million tiny fireworks spark inside of you.

But instead you pushed him away from you despite your body wanting nothing but him wrapped all around you. “Don’t get too close. I might have something contagious. I can’t have you getting sick.”

He ignored you, smiling inwardly at the way you always put others before yourself. It was one of the million reasons he had fallen for you. You were sweating out a high fever and shivering in pain, and yet you always thought of him first. He pressed his lips to your temple and pulled you closer, knowing that skin to skin was a way to bring down a fever - even if it meant he had to restrain himself from tugging off your pretty little white nightgown and whatever frilly things you had on underneath.

“I’m not going anywhere. Fuck it if I catch anything.”

“That’s easy for you to say. I’m the one who will have to dote on you hand and foot, you big baby.” You teased, pressing yourself into him playfully, finally giving in.

He held you like a child, trying to hard to soften despite the way you felt underneath him. Everything on him was running a mile a minute, and he couldn’t help but want to try everything and everything to make you feel better. His hand was pressed against your temple to always try and measure your fever, his other palm across your chest to try and count your heart rate.

He could hear Mary treading across the landing carpet but he ignored his anxious maid, instead letting himself be completely consumed by the only thing that mattered - you.

This was something he had to do by himself. He was the only one who could care for you he reminded himself. And he let the words tumble over and over in his skull until they were all he could hear.

—————————————————————-

You had been asleep for a long time.

Every hour, after pacing the length of the hall and sanitising his hands and wiping the beads of sweat above your brow and above your breasts he woke you up and held a cool glass to your lips. You mumbled and moaned and pushed him away but he kept his fingers across your wrist - harsher than he ever had before - and kept you as close to him as possible.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had cooked. Perhaps it was last valentines when the two of you had camped out under the stars, drinking icy white wine and sharing stolen, day drunk kisses. That night he had roasted a chicken over the fire and it had burnt to a crisp as the two of you rolled around the grass, his head buried in your neck as you giggled at the poultry going up in flames.

He was trying now though, easy, plain substantial meals that wouldn’t upset your stomach. Boiled egg and dippy soldiers. Crackers with smooth cheese. Bubbly water and ginger biscuits. Each time he went upstairs you pushed him away, your whole body shuddering and almost retching, and he felt like smashing the plates against the wall at his defeat.

It had been almost thirty six hours since he had come home and it had been almost as long since you had eaten something, and his heart thundered and shattered in his chest when he found you gasping and wheezing over the toilet bowl when you had taken a bite of toast to calm him. He rarely left you alone, only for a few minutes to put the still full dishes in the sink, to ring Lizzie and tell her that he wouldn’t be coming for reasons that he refused to disclose, to smoke a cigarette under the grey stone archway, his shaking hands and bitten fingernails barely visible through the sleepy rolling fog.

He had grabbed handfuls of papers and the brass ink pen you had got him for your anniversary and broke his own rule - bringing work into your bedroom. It had always been a sacred space. For candlelight and soft laughter, aching hands and heart shaped bruises, a sanctuary for him to breathe and to love and to be loved fully in return. But he was afraid if he didn’t have a distraction, he might just completely lose it, and he had to be there for you.

So he sat squinting in his glasses, the room almost completely dark save for a few candles because of the migraines that had started to spread throughout your skull, and let himself be drawn into the mess of squiggly lines and numbers that suddenly didn’t add up, with you still centre stage in his peripheral.

After about forty minutes of rereading the same sentence a dozen times to try and make some sense of it, he heard your voice, like a small crack spreading across a sheet of ice, coming from the bed.

“Tom?” You sounded so weak, he practically flipped your cream vanity as he got to his feet and darted towards you. “I don’t feel well.”

He lifted you as you reached your arms up at him like a child. He almost gasped at the sweat pouring from your body but didn’t want to scare you, and instead held your shaking, shivering body against his own. How could you be so hot, yet so cold at the same time? Your skin was prickled with goosebumps yet you were burning with a fever, and for the first time in a long time, he had no fucking idea what to do.

He left you propped up against the headboard and he entered the bathroom. He ran over to the claw foot tub you loved, twisting the faucet and trying to find the perfect medium between boiling hot and freezing cold. He didn’t want to overwhelm you, just try and soothe your raging fever, and he ignored the shelves of expensive bath oils and scented soaps that you coveted, instead opting for a handful of something meant to ease tension - praying to whoever was listening that it would help you somehow.

There was a brutal, awful moment as he lifted you from the bed, limp as a rag doll, where he imagined what would happen if your heart were to stop. He couldn’t comprehend what it would be like to miss the weight of you in his arms, the smell of your skin, the feeling of your lips against him, the shovels stopping and fading into nothing. It hit him square in the chest, as merciless as a bullet, and he had to lean against the doorframe to stop the two of you from plummeting to the ground.

He undressed himself first. Tugging his white shirt off, sliding off his slacks and his underwear, keeping you as close to his chest as he could. Then he pulled your nightgown up and over your head. He gathered your hair and secured it up with a claw clip so that it was away from your face, the heat radiating off your neck as fierce as the fire now burnt down to ash in the bedroom.

He lowered the two of you into the bath, sinking down beneath the eucalyptus smelling lukewarm water, letting it wash over you both. Your teeth were chattering and you were barely awake. He gathered handfuls of water, letting it drip over your shoulders and pulse points, grabbing a washcloth and running it over your raised skin, hating how you barely registered his touch. As he scrubbed over your collarbones and up to your face he saw your lips had turned to an awful, silvery blue, as vibrant as a fresh bruise. He hissed and tugged on the plug, now determined to get you wrapped up in a fresh towel and tucked back into bed.

You were soft and placid and he helped you out, lacking the usual fire that he adored. Your eyes were glassy and missing their vibrance, like the vanishing spark of a lighter - and he felt miles and miles of invisible distance between the two of you. You were unsteady on your feet and he used his body to prop you up as he warmed your arms with a fluffy white towel. You suddenly stopped, lifting your hand to your mouth as you started to cough - a horrible, dry, gasping cough.

He noticed it almost immediately. His eyes darting to the splatter of red against the white, a smudge of crimson that was as loud and commanding as a siren, a warning signal that something was definitely not right. A bead of scarlet that would linger long behind his closed eyelids.

He managed to get you back into bed, remaining calm as he stroked your hair and kissed your temple. He tucked you under the duvet and waited for your breathing to even before he ran downstairs, his heart thumping in his ears as he practically ripped the phone off of the wall.

“Pol? Fuck. I think - I think I need help.”

—————————————————————-

The room smelt like bleach and metal. Unfamiliar and clinical. There was something hard on your chest and covering your mouth, it tasted like wet pennies and was as heavy as a hand over your throat, but for the first time in days you could finally breathe. You tried to sit up, but there was a needle in your chest, a gown you didn’t recognise cut straight down the middle to accommodate it. You struggled and lifted the thin bedsheet above your shivering torso, trying to look around the cold room.

“Careful!”

It was Polly, dressed immaculately despite her surroundings. She reached out and placed a manicured hand across yours, and you smiled at the woman who had always been a calming influence when you had joined the circus of a family. There was concern in her eyes, rimmed with black eyeliner and lifted lashes but still swimming deep around her pupils. That made you frown, and you moved as much as you could to face her.

“What happened?”

She ran her tongue over her teeth, choosing her words. “You gave us quite a fright, love.”

“I did?” Your memories of the past few days were much like a fever dream, blurry and distorted snapshots were all you could really remember.

“Your pneumonia got worse. A lot worse.” She paused, looking over to the door and you followed her gaze. “They found fluid in your lungs.”

“So...” You started, gesturing to the needle in your abdomen and the breathing apparatus around your head.

She nodded. “Yes. You were in surgery. It was touch and go for a little bit.”

“Really?” You were bewildered. You couldn’t remember anything, let alone having major surgery. You looked her straight in the eye, asking her the questions that had been on the tip of your tongue since you had woken up. “Where is he? Where’s Tommy?”

“He’s outside.” She clicked her tongue, reaching deep into her purse and pulling out some hand cream, gently rubbing your dry hands like she was your mother. You leant into her touch despite all of your questions.

“What? Why?”

“I think he blames himself. God knows what goes on in that mans head. All I really know is he was bloody terrified.” She paused, looking over in the distance. “I’ve never seen him so scared, not even on his wedding day.” She smiled sadly, trying to lighten the mood, but it soon faded. “He didn’t leave your side the whole time you were asleep.”

Your heart thumped in your chest, a soft aching that you knew all too well. “I want to see him.”

“I know you do. But right now...” She stopped right as a handful of nurses entered, clad in long blue dresses with white aprons, hair tied back and smelling of strong soap and disinfectant. You lost Polly in the bustle as one spoke softly to you before tugging on the needle right beside your ribs, your eyes just catching hers as she left, a promise to see you soon on her lips.

It wasn’t her you saw next, but Tommy.

The nurses had cleaned you up with wet flannels and bowls of warm soapy water. Your hair had been braided and your face washed, and walked you arm in arm over to the bathroom so you could relieve yourself. A skittish doctor followed after, his eyes darting across you and his touch gentle as he changed your dressings and took your blood - obviously under strict instructions from your husband, and despite everything, you smiled.

You were sat listening to the clock tick. A romance novel you had been given was dangling dangerously close to the end of the bed, but you were too tired to focus on it. You heard the door squeal softly, and the sound of familiar footsteps across the tiling, each small thud sending shockwaves across your spine.

“Tommy.”

He looked tired. Exhausted rather, as though he had been awake all the hours that you had been asleep. His eyes were bloodshot and his skin was sallow and bruised. His clean shaven face was dark with stubble and his hair was ruffled and unwashed. You longed to reach out to him and cradle him against you, but he stood in the doorway, lingering like a ghost.

“Tommy?” You repeated, your voice almost a whisper, breaking his already shattered heart once again.

“How are you feeling, my love?”

You smiled softly, like spun sugar and sweet honey. No hospital bed or itchy gown could dull your infectious light. “Better now.”

He approached you almost cautiously. He settled down on the hard chair beside your bed and stroked a line down from your temple to your lips, his touch setting you alight like an electrical storm. There was a sadness in his eyes that reminded you of how he got when things were bad, and you willed him to come back to you. His touch was tentative and he inhaled shakily as you cupped his hand with yours, pressing a tender kiss to the inside of his palm.

“Don’t scare me like that. Ever.” He was stern, as though hoping his words would make it true. “I mean it.” He kept his gaze on your pretty face, trying his best not to stare at the harsh bruising on your delicate flesh or the sickly tone of your skin.

“Tommy I’m going to get sick, even you can’t stop that.” You teased gently.

“I can bloody well try.” His hands cradled your face, pulling you into him and kissing you fiercely, still mindful of the wires and tubes taped to your body. There was something about the tenderness and deep longing in the kiss that when mixed with your total exhaustion and love for your husband prompted tears to start falling from your eyes. You sniffled as he pulled away, concern dripping from his beautiful features, his powerful mind wanting to do everything and anything to stop your hurting.

“Hey, hey.” He said, running his calloused fingertips under your eyes and wiping your tears away. You leant into his touch and he kissed your temple, squeezing you even tighter into him. “You know I hate it when you cry.” He toyed with your hair and winked playfully. “Besides, all you need to focus on is getting better. You’re going to have to take care of me when we get home, this week has given me a fucking stroke.”

You rolled your eyes, kissing the inside of his wrist. “You’re a idiot, Thomas Shelby.” You blinked at the clock looming above you both, wanting to stay in your blissful bubble but also knowing that Aunt Pol would probably be in the vicinity harassing a poor nurse over your results. “You should go and find Polly, let her know that everything’s alright.”

He shook his head and nuzzled his nose across yours, an act so innocent that your heart dipped and swooped in your chest. “Later.” He said, breathless and consumed by you. Everything had been too much. Almost losing you had been harrowing, it had punctured him completely and he just needed to feel his girl safe and warm around him. He needed to know that you weren’t found anywhere.

“I just want to stay here for a while. Just me and you.”

You grinned. “Always.”

[catzula]

So, you chose the indigo tent?

Welcome to Shinsou's route on something wicked this way comes. I hope you enjoy.

a/n: so, here goes nothing. I'm really excited for this and I really hope you like it! Leave me a like, a reblog or a comment if you enjoyed it 😗

a big thank you to @qawaii for beta reading because you are the only person I can send this to beta and not die of embarrassment. Also thank you love for always motivating me and hyping me I love you muah.

Warnings: NSFW! Minors do not interact! Smut. 7.4k of pwp. Degrading, blow job, orgasm denial (once), hair pulling, slight choking, calling good girl, enemies to lovers kinda vibe, idk what else

Everyone has their low points of life. This night must be yours, you think.

You're tired- exhausted and on the brink of possibly passing out, even; hungry, frustrated, cold, and shivering, and everything seems to be going wrong.

Standing on the hill before the tents, you try to focus on why you're here. Never to feel like this again, of course, but it's hard to push yourself to take one more step at this point.

You have to find Aizawa; you repeat yourself. Find him, convince him to take you in so you won't ever feel this hopeless, so you won't ever think if you can survive sleeping in a night as cold as this. You can't go back, won't go back to that place you once called home. You're determined to find a new home or never belong anywhere again.

There is a dull pain on your fingers, feeling like they're frozen and burning. You know you gave to find somewhere warm to at least wear the exhaustion off of you, regain movement in your fingers and feel like you won't pass out any second.

You'd rather sleep, but you're more than aware how dangerous that could be, so you'd have to yield to a stop break, instead. As the thought seeps into your mind, your brain doesn't even give you the chance to rethink; quick to come up with more reasons for why you should rest first, then find Aizawa.

It's the sweet hope of finding warmth that pulls you closer to the tents. You know it's mad to even think of going in any of them, straight into the territory of people that are freaks, people with quirks that makes you an easy bait for them to kill.

But exhaustion has that kind of an effect on people, and even the worst ideas seem bright at the time, mind foggy, unable to give you a reasonable answer when you ask yourself what's the worst that could happen.

You won't be staying for long, anyway, if anyone finds you, you'll flee- you're smart, not so strong but quick, you can run, right?

Your eyes scan the tents to see which one you can go in and out of without being noticed, and you're quick to eliminate the red and black ones.

The red tent has torches all over, so there's no way you can try and sneak in. And the black tent- well, you don't have a good feeling about it.

The tent closest to you has heavy-looking, dark blue curtains, but when you look closer, you can see the light coming from there, too. Your body getting heavier and heavier by the second, and you're pouting as your eyes fall on the indigo, purple tent. A few careful steps taken closer, you confirm there isn't light coming from inside.

As you come even closer, so close that the heavy, velvet-like material of the tent brushes your naked arms, making goosebumps run down your body. You wait for a few seconds for a sound, anything that indicates there is someone there, but after a few minutes of waiting, you conclude there isn't.

You're reluctant but quick to slip through the curtains, staying close to the exit so you can flee without having to face anyone.

It doesn't take long for your eyes to adjust in the darker room, and you're careful as you scan the room step by step.

It's not massive, but the area still seems bigger than any tent you've seen. It's almost twice your room- your old room.

Head pounding with exhaustion creeping in, you find a hiding place behind a cupboard in the corner. Your body acts before you, slipping in the small opening with ease. It's an advantageous hiding place , giving you the chance to spy on the entrance without blatantly sticking out.

As you wait for someone to come in, for something to happen in this dead of the night, your body starts feeling the signs of exhaustion even worse than before, with finding a warm place and somewhere to sit, adrenaline slowly leaving your body.

And before you know it, you're asleep.

~

You only after realize that you hadn't thought this through.

You wake up by the dim, reflected light of a candle- you're lucky you're a light sleeper, or you wouldn't have woken up to someone entering the tent.

The silhouette of a man dances on the floor, crouching down as he holds the candle in one hand and busies the other with the pile of clothes. Not sure when he entered the tent, it seems he's not yet aware of your presence, and you know you have to get out before he does.

Noticing his back is turned to you, you finally gather the courage to peep your head from where you sit. A purple head of hair is what you first notice, his ltousled ocks sticking in every direction as if he faced a thunderstorm.

He's reaching towards the pile of clothes, eyes half open as a look of exhaustion challenging yours lingers on his face.

As you stretch your head a little more from the corner you're hiding in, you finally see something hiding between the pile of clothes. It's a cat, you realize. The man's hand runs over the black fur; it makes the cat close his eyes and lean to the touch as he continues to pat its head, scratching under its ears.

You're not aware how intensely you're watching him, wide eyes following his movements, how his odd hair color catches the dim candlelight on itself, soft shadows dancing on the sharp, handsome features of his face.

You know you have to run, get out of here before he notices you, but it's like you're in a faze, curiosity boiling in your body.

It's a scene to behold, the pair of a mad-looking man and a black cat relishing in each others' presence as you gasp and retract back when the cat suddenly opens its eyes, golden gaze looking directly at you.

Your heart drumming in your ears as you sink more into the corner you're in, you miss how the candle he's holding flickers and the way his head tilts your way so slightly.

For a few minutes, nothing happens. You're too afraid to breathe, let alone reach back out to see what the man's doing. It's silent other than your booming heart, and despite knowing you have to get out of there- now, you can't do anything but wait.

"Aren't you cold?" The voice breaks the silence in the tent, a deep grumble that turns your stomach upside down. You think you recognize it; you've heard it earlier today, quickly depicting who he is; the man with the black, beak-like mask who was doing the hypnosis tricks.

"Does anyone want to volunteer for this trick?" He had asked many times that night. "If yes, cheer for me so I can see who does."

It's an automatic response; to cheer with the whistling and clapping crowd, and you hadn't noticed the self-satisfied smile he hid behind the mask at getting a reply from everyone watching him.

"I'm talking to the cat, not to the person hiding behind the cupboard, by the way." The man speaks again, a sarcastic comment that comes out of his lips so indifferently, and it shows how unfazed he is even by having another presence hiding in his tent.

Even the thought of it is chilling, but you don't give yourself the time to ponder about it, now that your cover is blown, leaping towards the exit. You're fast and agile, and Shinsou thinks you would've escaped if you were in the presence of anyone else.

But you aren't, and you soon come to realize that as well.

As you push the velvet curtains and the cold air hits your face, you're sure you've escaped since the man hasn't moved from where he stood. Still, not taking a second more, you're about to disappear into the night.

But instead of running after you, you hear him speak.

"Stop," It's a simple command that would've made you scoff any other time. Does this man really think you would-

stop.

Just in the border of the night and the tent, you suddenly lose the ability to control your body.

You freeze, despite your mind screaming at you to get out of there; you're not able to move an inch as you watch the man as he walks towards you, painfully slow, too.

As he stops before you, you're forced to realize just how bigger he is than you. Crazy locks of hair defy gravity, looking deep blue instead of the purple you had seen in his show.

He looks mean as he stands before you, eyes locked on you. Dangerous, even.

Stuck in a body you can't charge, you have to wait as his eyes scan you with a frown on his lips, the only emotion available on his face being a silent surprise and tiredness. Even with the situation you're in, you can't help but notice he's even more handsome up close. Secretly admiring his dark indigo eyes looking at you with suspicion, the circles under his eyes giving him an even more stern look, lips pressed into a line, high cheekbones shadowing his cheeks.

"Speak." He commands once again, and you fear if you had control of your body, you might've shivered at his tone.

"Wh-what did you do to me?!" It's your first reaction to regaining control; it makes the purple-haired man scoff. He leans a little closer to you, the ends of his locks close to grazing your face, but not quite, inspecting you with a scorning look and a mean frown. He's the source of the tinge of lavender smell in the room, you realize. That and something a little more... musky.

Despite having the control to speak, you're silent as he judges you, and you swear the corner of his lips quirk at that, too. "You were at the show today, weren't you? I think you can guess what's happening."

"You- you hypnotized me!" You shout, terrified. When he hears the accusing tone of your voice, the man quirks a brow at you.

"You broke into my tent." He mocks you with a smile, looking you up and down. "Aren't you cold?" He repeats. "Come in."

Your body obeys the commend, following the man back into the tent you just escaped, your body once again meeting the lavender-tinted warm air. You stand in the middle of the room as you watch him plop himself on a seat, legs wide open, almost invitingly so, his lips curved into a smile as his gaze keeps wandering on you.

You're unable to help it when your gaze starts shifting on his form, too, especially with the way he's looking at you now; you're not sure if it's the harsh shadows on his face that makes him look so irresistible, with that knowing smirk when he catches your eyes flicking lower than they should. When he quirks a brow at you, with eyes that almost tell you; I know what you're thinking, it suddenly feels a little too warm.

A hum vibrates in the air before he speaks again. "Tell me, pretty girl," he says, "why were you in my tent?"

As soon as you hear the command, you brace yourself to blurt out the whole truth, but- you don't. Questioning eyes finding him; he shrugs. "I'm not going to force it out of you."

He looks so smug with the way he says it, too, making you scoff with narrowed eyes. "Oh, how generous of you."

He ignores the mocking tone of your voice, the only indication he even heard them being the slight tilt of his lips. "If I knew you wouldn't flee the moment I let you go, too, you wouldn't be in this situation, either."

"Is that so?" You mutter, seemingly disinterested. "I will, though."

Your words seem to amuse him, the way you resist him, despite being entirely under his mercy, acting like he has no power over you.

So he smiles; it's deceptive, dark, exciting. It makes the air shift into something new; something that feels thicker, hotter, lustful.

He seems indifferent, however, and you hope he's blind to how your body reacts, as well, to when he sighs, hands running through his tangled, odd-colored locks.

"Why are you still keeping me here, anyway?" You blurt out, wanting to get out of here before you do something... mad.

"I'm curious." He answers the question, a smile resting on his plush lips as he shrugs. "Why were you in my tent?"

Eye for an eye, you think as he counters you with his question. He had answered yours, and it was only fair if you did the same. "I was cold," you tell him, staying as vague as possible. "Your tent seemed warm."

"That's it?" His brows arch up. "The rest isn't any of your business."

"I'm curious."

"I don't even know your name!" You huff angrily. "All I know is you're a guy who works in a circus with powers that leave me a puppet in your hands. I'm not here to entertain you."

As you blurt the last sentence, you don't miss his dark chuckle at it. "We'll see about that," he mutters, but before giving you the chance to speak, he speaks again. "My name's Shinsou. Feeling better?"

"Much." You mock him with an exaggerated smile, voice hostile. "Now will you let me go?"

"Why would I?" He laughs. "You still haven't answered my questions, and haven't you heard it's only courtesy to tell your own name when someone tells you theirs?"

"And haven't you heard it's being a basic human fucking being not to keep people under your influence like this?"

A beat of silence passes as he ponders on an answer and fails, and both of you know he lost this round. "Kitty's got claws, I see." He swipes his tongue on his bottom lip, amusedly watching your reaction at the pet name. You sneer at him- but Shinsou's a little too interested in this to miss the way you shift in your place, your quickening breaths, the flutter of your eyes.

"Don't call me that."

"Why? Got you excited?" Shinsou quirks a brow when you squeak angrily. "You won't even tell me your name."

You would've rolled your eyes if you could, instead just sighing at the purple-haired man. "It's Y/N." You answer. "My Name's Y/N."

It's been a while since Shinsou had this much fun; he missed this game of cat and mouse.

"Very well then, Y/N," he repeats your name as suggestive as possible, "would you answer my question? I can force the answer out of you, you know." He looks amused as he leans forward in his chair, suddenly much more interested in what you say, how you move. Like a predator watching its prey. "All it takes is a command."

Each word makes its way out of his lips so smoothly- you shiver at the way he speaks them. And you're disappointed when you realize not with fear.

It was a lost game the moment you even felt a tinge of lust towards the man, but you doubt there is anyone who can resist his charm. Still, you refuse to play into his hand, choosing to fight submitting to him just like that.

"With your witchcraft or whatever it is, yes." You shoot back, "but you can never control me without it." You feel needles of excitement run over your skin.

"Hm?" He quirks a brow, a feline cat on his lips, making you shiver with the lust settling on his gaze. Your eyes follow the movement of his adam's apple when he gulps. "You think I can't make you do as I say without my powers?" His voice drops an octave, and it almost makes you gasp.

"I know you can't." You sneer. "I would never let you."

"Big words from a little girl. Are you challenging me?"

"And what if I am?"

"Well," Shinsou slides his tongue over his lip, your gaze follows the movement. "you'll have to prove it to me."

As he speaks the words, the heaviness that had consumed your body disappears, as well. Your eyes shoot up- only meeting his mocking indigo gaze. You don't need him to tell you what to do, as one glance is enough for you to see how his pants seem a little strained over his crotch, a print making itself visible.

"What?" He asks, a grin resting on his lips as you stay still. His voice is deep, a guttural, almost tired tone that has you shivering with each way he speaks his words. "All bark, no bite? I thought you were up for a challenge- oh." You effectively shut him up when you settle before the man in one quick motion, relishing in the way his eyes widen, a content, almost excited grin consuming his face.

"You were saying something?" You purr innocently, as if you're not kneeling between his legs, licking your lips and giving him a glance from beneath your lashes.

"Nothing," Shinsou huffs out a laugh, settling in his chair to give you better access. "Do go on."

His dick is even more prominent now, you notice, a wicked smile settling on your lips. You lift your hand to trace his cock, touch ghosting him from over the material of his pants. He's semi-hard beneath your fingers, but even then, you have to muffle a gasp at just how big he is. Unfortunately, he seems to notice the widening of your eyes and your gulp.

He leans forward to tease you, but you don't give him a chance. His eyes flutter close when your hand finally takes him in your hold. "Shit-" Shinsou curses, his tongue darts out to wet his lips as you palm him over the material of his pants, not fast nor hard enough to satisfy him but to keep him tittering on edge. "You fucking tease." He sounds out of breath, but somehow manages to open his eyes to give you a dark look.

"Can't wait to fuck it out of you."

Shinsou waits, endures your torture until you yourself can't, growing impatient to feel him in your mouth.

His chuckle sinister as he aids you while your fingers work his pants off, leaving you face to face with his now hard cock, a small patch of wetness painting his briefs a darker color.

"Look what you did to me," Shinsou heaves, forcing himself to keep his indigo eyes open and on you. "making me hard without even taking me in your mouth."

You bite your lip as your hands slip beneath his boxers, feeling him hot and pulsing under your touch for the first time. You both groan at the sensation.

As you finally push his briefs down, you first see a tuff of deep-purple hair, his cock red and angry. "Ah, fuck." He curses at the contact with the cold air, his head lolling and falling back slightly.

"If it's too much-" he breathes before you can move any further, "tap my thigh twice, or yell bandaid." He only lets you go on when you nod, making sure you understood what he said.

Without waiting any longer, you take him in your hand, and it only makes you realize he's even bigger than you originally had thought. You try to hide your doubts on if you're even going to be able to fit him in your mouth, but he realizes anyway. "What?" Shinsou mutters breathily, "scared?"

You don't answer him, leaning forward to take the sensitive tip between your mouth, instead. The bitter taste of precum has a tinge of sweetness to it, and you don't even realize you start suckling on it a bit harder to get more of the taste.

"Oh- fucking hell." He runs his hands through his hair with a loud groan, a borderline moan, when you suck particularly hard, twirling your tongue around his sensitive head. The sound makes its way straight down to your core.

Your other hand comes up to cup his balls as you let go of his angry red tip, tracing his cock to the base with kisses planted along his shaft. "Ah- fuck, fuck, fuck!" Shinsou groans when you massage his balls softly, leaving kisses on the base, your other hand pumping him slower than he wants it.

"Stop fucking teasing." He growls, voice breathy and shallow. "Or are you afraid -ah- you can't take it all?"

The smug grin he has, despite your best efforts to wipe it off has you fuming. You know he only says it to rile you up, but it works. "Shut up." You spit at the handsome man, not even missing a beat or trying to ease him in as you start pushing yourself on his length. It's pure spite, he knows it too, but it only makes it more fun for Shinsou.

You underestimated him.

You open your mouth as much as you can, jaw aching almost immediately with the pressure, but you try to discard the feeling, focused on having as much of him in your mouth.

"Ah fuck!" He groans out loudly, hips twitching, a thrust in your welcoming mouth before he can catch himself. "Good fuckin' girl," Shinsou breathes, his hand flying to your head as support, pushing you even further down. You almost miss the subtle whiny moan he lets out when you gag loudly around him. The head of his cock hitting the back of your throat as Shinsou keeps pushing you down on his cock mindlessly, your heart drums in your ears, jaw aching, breaths shallow and insufficient.

"Look at you- oh, look at you." Shinsou mutters between his ragged breaths. "Such an obedient little girl, so pretty, so eager-" his warm cock thrusts deeper in your mouth and makes you gag once again, tears that had welled in your eyes before now spilling down your cheeks. Shinsou's half-lidded gaze falls on you, face wet with drool, tears, and his precum, and you feel his cock twitch along with a groan, "-so eager to please me."

You wish- you wish you could protest, say he's wrong, that you don't care the slightest bit about how he feels, but you can't. And not because of his cock stuffing your mouth, either.

Instead, you feel the blood starting to rush downwards, straight to your pussy, making you soil your panties with how he spits out each syllable.

Shinsou's aware of this, too, how effective his words are. His head falls back, weak to the pleasure you're giving him, moaning and gagging around his length as he thrusts faster into you. The dull pain in your skull feels so good, the ache of your throat, his cock hot and heavy on your tongue-

"You're- you're getting off on this, huh?" Shinsou tightens his grip on your hair. "You like it when I call you a good girl? You like it when I use you as a fuck hole?"

You try to lie, shake your head no, but he doesn't give you a chance, no room to move your head with how tight his hold is. With one thrust exceptionally deep, Shinsou laughs almost cruelly as he speaks. "Of course, you do. You're sucking me so fucking well; it's impossible you don't."

"Good girl- good fucking girl, I bet you're soaking in your panties, too, huh? What a little slut. I thought you weren't going to give in? I thought you said I couldn't control you?"

"Fuck you." You spit out when you pull away from his cock, but he doesn't seem pleased by it. "Don't speak with your mouth full, darling." Shinsou growls, his hand cupping your jaw and forcing your eyes to meet his, fingers digging deep into the soft of your skin. "Didn't anyone teach my baby any manners? Or are you just too dumb to learn?"

You open your mouth to say something, but before you can even utter a word, his long fingers force their way through your lips; whatever you were going to say stays as a muffled moan.

"You know, from the moment I saw you all I thought about as you talked and talked and talked was how I wanted to put that big mouth of yours into good use."

In all honesty- it was all you thought about as well.

With seeing the glint in your eyes, Shinsou huffs out a laugh. "Oh, look at my pretty little slut." He forces his fingers even deeper, making you gag. "You think I don't know what you're thinking? You think I don't know how much you want my cock in your mouth? Such a whore, hiding in my tent. You did this on purpose, didn't you? Came here to get fucked like a bitch in heat by one of us freaks?"

The last words are but a haze to you since by then; he's already pushing himself back and forth past your abused lips, moaning at the feeling of your warm, wet mouth, without giving you the time to think, to breathe, to accustom. Shinsou holds a ruthless pace, gripping your head fest by the hair as he groans and moans, making you squirm under him. "Good girl- ah, fuck, such a good girl, suck my cock just like that- ah!"

"Fuck- I'm coming." You almost don't hear him, only raise your gaze to his half-lidded eyes and feel his cock twitch between your lips. "I'm coming- ah- shit, shit shit!"

Your moans get louder as his thrusts get sloppier, and you feel his whole body tremble at your voice. "I'm gonna- fuck!" Shinsou finally feels himself falling over the edge he's been dancing on, his hot cum shooting down your aching, abused throat, moaning when he notices how eagerly you swallow his cum.

His body falls limp back on the seat, chest heaving with deep, heavy breaths. There is a sheen layer of sweat covering Shinsou's body, making the muscles of his body shine under the dim candlelight.

All you hear in the quiet tent is his deep breaths, his head resting back, eyes closed, and he seems exhausted. A few minutes pass for him to pull himself together, opening his eyes to look at you, and- fuck he's hard again.

"Are you okay?" You shake your head, suppressing a smile at his now even messier-looking hair.

"Are you okay?" You ask smugly, coughing once because of the ache. "Thought you were gonna- hey!" You squeak as he jumps on his feet, and in a moment, you find yourself swept off the floor and in his arms. "I see you still have words to speak." Shinsou laughs, his face so close to yours, you feel his breath fanning against your ear, and he feels you tremble between his arms. He quirks a brow at your surprised reaction. You hadn't expected him to be able to continue, truth be told.

"What?" He continues, "I thought I made myself clear when I said I'd fuck it out of you."

You try to keep your last bit of resistance in you by speaking, "I'd like to see you try." But both of you seem aware you've already lost.

"Oh, I'm sure you do." Shinsou gives you a look before placing- throwing you on the unmade bed, eliciting a loud gasp from you. The dim candlelight hits his naked form in a way that has you rubbing your legs in anticipation. He isn't bulky but well-built and muscular, enough to toss you around with ease, enough to have your mouth watering at the thought of running your fingers over his well-defined muscles.

His gaze predatory, Shinsou looks dissatisfied eyeing you. "Strip." He orders, a knowing smile finding its way on his lips as you realize he won't use his powers but knows you'll obey his command like a good girl.

And you do, too. Maybe it's the anticipation or the uncanny glint in Shinsou's eyes that get to your head, but thoughts of defiance are thrown out of the window as you're shrugging off your clothes without giving it a second thought.

"That's it." He grins, his index finger just barely ghosting over your thigh, and he relishes how you squirm because of it. "Look how good you can be for me."

"Such a pretty girl," his hand continues circling your bare legs, getting dangerously close to where you need him the most, but never quite giving it. "My pretty girl." You feel him smile on your skin, littering it with kisses and bites as his fingers ghost over your pussy.. "A shame she has that bratty streak, though."

Shinsou clicks his tongue, suddenly pulling his hand back away, suppressing a smile at your needy whine. It's the kind of sound that's pushing him closer to ruining you by the second.

"No, no, baby, don't cry." You feel his hand cup your face, pads of his fingers tracing your face. His thumb grazes your lips, tracing the outline and pushing in, the sudden intrusion making you moan around it. "I'm here to help you with that."

Help you, he does. You feel his finger graze your clit, circling it just barely but even that slightest contact has you gasping for more after spending that long focused on him.

"Look at you," Shinsou tuts disappointedly, "just barely touched you, and you're soaking wet. Did you enjoy sucking me that much? Did you like how my dick tastes so much that it turned you on?"

"I-" you try to gather your thoughts, but he silences you by pushing one of his fingers in your pussy, his fingers long and slim, such pretty hands he has, his pale skin glistening with your wetness. "What was that?"

"P-please," you beg pathetically as all his motions still abruptly, eyes turning steal as he leans so close that you think your noses might touch. His other hand latches on your hair when your head lolls back down, his grip forcing you to keep your eyes on his indigo ones. The dull pain in your scalp goes straight to your core, and Shinsou can tell by how you clench around his finger.

"That isn't an answer to my question, Y/N." Your name rolls of his tongue so cold, so distant, you find yourself whining at it.

"Y-yes!" You exclaim, hips moving and grinding against his hand to find more friction with yet another cry, "I did- I did, so please!"

Shinsou has to admit.

Having you look at him with wide, watering eyes, face contorted in need of pleasure, your lips trembling as a form of begging- he doesn't think he can hold off much longer.

You feel so tight, even with just a finger, so warm and welcoming that he might be going crazy. Your mouth falls slack; eyes squeezed closed as you focus on the pleasure, silent other than shallow, desperate breathes.

"That's a good girl." Shinsou approves, adding a second finger and closing the gap between your faces to press a kiss on your lips as a reward.

So desperate for affection, you don't hear nor feel his amused laugh as you throw your arms around his neck when he starts to pull back after giving you but a peck, trying to hold him close, pull him into a kiss.

Shinsou shakes his head no, his fingers curling in you as he does so, your back arching off the bed. "Let's not get greedy, pretty girl. Don't worry; I'll take you there- as many times as you want. Okay?"

"Okay." You nod obediently and- fuck, Shinsou feels his dick ache with how hard he is.

"You take my fingers so well." He mutters, almost talking to himself, fascinated by how eager your pussy pulls him in. "Just listen how you gush around my fingers, how slutty your pussy is," Shinsou chuckles, the wet sound of your cunt making you cry out a whine. "Looks how wet you are, so messy, so pretty, wanna make you cum so many times-" He raises his brows when you shake your head 'no'

"Wanna-" you whine, "wanna cum on your cock."

"Please?" You add quickly, giving him the mastered doe-eyes. With the way his fingers sink into the flesh of your thighs, you know you're pushing him till he can't hold back anymore.

"Ah, fuck baby." You moan as his eyes roll back in his head. "How can I say no to you when you ask so nicely?"

You writhe under him as he rubs the swollen head on your pussy first, wetting the tip of his cock with your arousal as you nuzzle your face on his neck to get more of his scent, his skin muffling your moans when he lightly taps your clit.

"If it's too much," Shinsou holds you by the chin to make you look at him, your gaze half-lidded, mouth agape, you looked fucked dumb already. "what were you going to say?"

"Band-bandaids." You half-moan, half speak. Satisfied with the answer, Shinsou can't wait any longer as he's finally pushing himself in you, your cunt pulsing around him-

fuck- so warm, so wet, so soft-

"Holy fuck!" A guttural groan rips from his chest as he feels your strained walls pulse and flutter around him, trying to adjust to his size as he hears your needy cries right next to his ear. It has him losing his mind; Shinsou angles his hips just enough to have you screaming his name, and the feeling of his cock dragging against your pussy, heavy and hot in you, is enough to have you teetering on the edge already.

"'s big!" You whine into his neck, body convulsing with each drag of his cock in you. "So big- you're so big, makes me feel so full." You gasp, unaware of how you bring your hand to your stomach, pressing on the bulge that appears when he pushes in you.

You look so mindlessly fucked out; with your face twisted in pleasure, mouth fallen slack and drool pooling in the corner of your lips, eyes rolling back in your skull as he plunges in and out of you.

"Shinsou- Shinsou, ah, fuck!" You babble, nails digging in his arms to leave angry red crescents. So lost in the pleasure, you're not exactly aware of Shinsou's hands roaming around your face, cupping your jaw, caressing your cheeks, pushing back stray hairs. So cute, so vulnerable for him- he can't wait to make your face wet with tears.

"I'm gonna- I- I'm gonna cum!" You moan, but he knows this already, by the way your back arching off the bed with each deep thrust of his hips, by your pussy clenching even harder on his cock, your hands holding on to him like he's your lifeline.

In a heartbeat, just as you're sure the coil that's been growing in you is going to snap, just as you're about to fall into that bliss- he stops.

A broken sob follows his stillness, a cry ripping itself off your chest at the feeling that was just beyond reach. "Why?" You whine into his chest, hips wiggling to try and feel the same as you did a second ago.

"Shh, it's okay," he coos, voice breathy, more uncollected than he tries to look, purple locks of hair submitting to gravity and falling down, hovering around his face like an indigo halo. "I'll let you come as many times as you want- if you beg."

He raises a brow at you when you squirm under his touch, clamping down on his cock when he growls in your ear, hot breath fanning on your neck. "Beg for it, pretty girl, beg for me to make you cum on my cock- such a hungry slut- beg and I'll give you whatever you want."

You look up at him teary-eyed, your body shaking like a leaf in hungry need, for release, for him, but your lips refuse to atone, your head shaking side to side as a sob leaves your throat.

You can't, you can't beg, but the feeling is irresistible.

"No?" Shinsou voices your silent rebel, and you think the shadows on his face just got a few tones darker.

"You think you have a choice?" His voice low and grave as you feel a pair of hands snake up your body and wrap around your neck, squeezing just the right amount to have your eyes widen with shock, pussy tighten with need but not so much that you're gasping for air. "Nothing but a filthy whore- look at me when I fuck you."

Another squeeze has your eyes rolling back in your head, his filthy words traveling right down to your weeping core. "Now beg."

This time, you don't miss a beat before obeying, pleas falling from your lips along with whimpers of his name, but it's not enough; that you can tell by the dissatisfied click of his tongue. "P-please, sir," you whisper, it makes him move, a hard thrust in your to show praise.

"P-please fuck me-" you add, trying to speak between his occasional deep thrusts, messing with your head. "Show me my- mmh, fuck!- my place!"

As soon as the words are out of your lips, Shinsou goes out of his mind as well. His eyes widen with how your words affect him, an electrifying warmth blooming in the pit of his stomach. "Show you your place?" He growls, and you cry out a moan when he starts thrusting in a ruthless pace, his grip on your neck now suddenly a tad tighter, black spots dancing around in your vision.

"Show you what a slut you are, is that it?"

You're not even comprehending the words he's spewing, the feeling of his cock filling you up has warm tears running down your cheeks, sobs mixed with moans filling the silence other than the sound of skin slapping skin and his low growls.

"Crying? What a little baby, can't even take a cock in you, huh? Then what are you even good for?" Just as he finishes his sentence, the tip of his cock grazes that sweet spot in you, making you cry out a louder sob. "Sh-shinsou, please!"

Hearing you sob out his name like that has his cock twitching in you, your legs wrapped around his waist, legs digging into the small of his back, your nails biting in his shoulders as if he's the only thing holding you up and sane, newer ones filling his skin with each thrust he gifts you. His lidded gaze focuses on your fucked out face, drooling as your mouth falls slack, eyes rolling to the back of your head, face wet with tears you're still shedding. His hand travels from your neck to your jaw, forcing you to look at him so he can lean forward and plant a wet kiss on your lips.

"Fuck yeah- look at you, pretty girl, crying because how good I'm fucking you, huh?"

You nod pathetically, knowing he's waiting for an answer, but a nod is all you can muster with how hazy your mind feels. "More, more- please sir, ah!" Your hands travel from his arms to his back, leaving red, angry stripes on his back as well; one of your hands find a purple lock of hair, taking it between your fingers and hanging on it as hard as you can-

"Ah, shit!" Shinsou shouts as he throws his head up in the air at the dull pain you give him, his cock twitching in you and making you cry out a moan. You're not even aware you're pulling his hair, not aware you're getting him so close to cumming, not aware of anything but his fat cock drilling in you.

"Shit! Baby don't- ah, don't do that or I'm-" He groans, thrusts getting harder, faster-

"You're gonna cum?" He growls in your ear as he feels you clamping harder on his cock, the feeling of you fluttering around him bringing him to your high with you. "Huh? Are you? Answer me." Shinsou's hand grips your hair, pulling it and exposing the skin of your neck for him, open and vulnerable for him to leave marks.

The feeling of his hand in your hair, the kisses he leaves on every sensitive part of your neck, the way his teeth graze and sometimes bite your skin- it's all too much, your body shaking and back arching, you're close- so, so close that-

"I'm cumming- sir, please, I-"

"Cum for me then." Shinsou orders, voice breathy and shaking with the pleasure he's swimming in.

All it takes is for him to lean for another kiss, his tongue sliding in your mouth, and you're falling off the sweet edge, cries getting louder and body shaking with a ripping orgasm, you're clamping down on his cock like crazy, like you won't ever let him go, your dainty hands in his hair and hanging on his locks without care and fuck-

"Give me one more, baby, one more-" Shinsou grunts in your ear, lips grazing the shell as his fingers rub vigorous circles on your clit, "I know you have it in you, come on."

"I- I can't-" You try to speak, but it's all too much, your mind foggy, the tip of your tongue lolling out. "You can," Shinsou growls, orders. "You can and you will."

It's not much after your body convulses with yet another orgasm, hanging on Shinsou as he keeps fucking into you, and you know he's close.

"Come in me!" Your voice cries out to the man; you have your arms thrown around his neck, pulling him to yourself, want to be closer, closer, closer- "Please- come in me! I want to feel you- ah!"

You gasp as he gives you few last pumps, overstimulation making you flinch. Shinsou comes with a groan, teeth sinking into the conjunction of your neck and shoulders and causing you to cry out in pleasure mixes with a tint of pain.

Your eyes are falling as he pulls you to himself, closing his arms around you and holding you against his chest. You stay like that for a while, both too tired to even ask each other how you're doing. He finally slips out of your abused cunt, standing up to glance at you worriedly when you wince. "Sorry."

"How are you feeling?" You hear him grumble as he shuffles through the drawers, wetting the clean towel he pulled out from there. When he comes back, you also notice the bottle of medicine he has in his hands.

"Here, take this." He gives you the medicine and a cup of water, leaning towards you hesitantly. "Should I?" He brings the towel towards the between of your legs, but still keeps a distance.

When you nod, his soft touch ushers your legs to part. He grimaces when you wince at the contact with the towel, even when his touch is so light, but you endure it.

"I should help you out with those." You mutter, half-embarrassed as you inspect the angry red lines adorning his back and arms. His chest is littered with lovebites and marks you don't even remember leaving, and he chuckles when he drops his gaze to look for himself, as well.

"It's okay; you should rest." He laughs. "I'll take care of it later."

You nod, but you still feel his gaze on you as you push yourself deeper in the sheets, mind swimming in thoughts of-

"What are you going to do now?" Shinsou voices, and you notice he's back in his boxers and a shirt, hair in a little more shape. You blink a few times, not knowing how to answer, not knowing the answer, hands fisting the sheets in tight balls.

"I first wanted to go find Aizawa." You shrug, rubbing your eyes. "Before I came here, I mean."

He huffs out a surprised laugh, glancing at you with his brows raised. "That's a first." He mutters. "What's the occasion?"

A smile sneaks its way on your lips as you give him an unfazed shrug. "You think I'll tell you? Maybe I'll let you hear what it is when you take me to him."

Shinsou stays still for a second or so, the predatory glint he had a few minutes ago appearing once again in his indigo eyes. "My silly little baby," You feel two of his fingers graze the underside of your chin, tilting your gaze to meet his. "I thought we already agreed that I can make you do anything I say." You feel his breath on your lips, leaning to close the gape.

"Or should I teach you one more time?"

[cazimagines]

Born to be wild - Chapter 1

Synopsis: Joining F1 as one of the first female drivers you knew was going to be a challenge but you weren't prepared to deal with one particular asshole on the tracks. With the urge to win so strong within each racer, will romance pave the way? Or will it destroy everything?

Word count: 2.6k

Author’s note: And away we go! First chapter lads. This is a long series so a lot of building up to do so stick around. Idk how frequent updates will be but I will try to make them quite frequent

Warnings: Reference to misogyny, swearing

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Cross-posted to ao3 under the same username

You were here.

Finally, after years of preparation, years of people, men, telling you that you couldn’t do it. That racing was a man’s sport, that a woman could never have the same skills, drive and determination that men had when it came to racing. That you just couldn’t do it. Now you stood here, feet on the warm cement, eyes glimmering with excitement as you looked over the F1 banner, ready to enter the garage for the first time, ready for qualifying for tomorrows race.

The first female F1 driver.

Ever since you were a little girl you had the need for speed. You created your own go-carts out of spare bits and bobs your father had from his garage. You raced the other neighbour’s kids down the street to see who would win and be crowned the coolest kid around. The way the wind flew through your hair, the feeling of it rushing past your face, seeing everything move slowly and fastly at once, it was intoxicating for you. When you first found out about Formula 1, it was still in its early days and people often would take the mick out of it, your parents included but you badgered them constantly to take you to a race, and finally, after years of begging they gave in and took you to see it seeing how your heart was set upon it.

After watching the race you had instantly turned around to them and told them that was what you wanted to do. You wanted to be an F1 racer. They tried to persuade you to seek a different job, a respectable one for a lady such as a secretary. They even suggested that you could be a secretary for an F1 team, but that wasn’t what you wanted and you would never feel that satisfaction in life if you weren’t within that seat, if you hand wasn’t on that wheel, if you weren’t crossing that finishing line.

It had been a rough start. No one wanted to hier you as they thought you would be nowhere near as successful as a man could be. Time and time again you were trying to apply for test outs and met with rejections at every corner to the point where you even considered just throwing your hat in. Would you be spending your whole life just trying to get in but being denied all the time just because you were born a woman. But when you were at your lowest you were met with a shining light. One team wanted to try you out. They made no promises but they were willing to give you a try, and that was all it took.

Once you were out on the tracks you could show off your skill, your ability to make quick decisions, how you were able to work the car to how you wanted it and no one could deny after that, you were a dam fine driver. You were taken on and started racing in small F3 races, in the hopes that a bigger company might spot you and choose to get you into F1, and after a few years of waiting, it happened. You were signed on.

A lot of other people from F3 were in an uproar about it, claiming you did all sorts of things to get in, claiming it was only for diversity but at this point, you didn’t care. Everything you had ever wanted was coming true. Your whole dream was becoming a reality and now there was only one last step for you. To win the championship.

You had been signed on to the F1 team, ‘Tyrrell-Ford’ and previously a week ago you had met your new teammate, Patrick Depailler. You had been worried about how his reaction might have been to you, fearing the man might have felt offended merely by your presence but he had been exceedingly nice to you and quickly your fears disappeared into excitement for getting to work with him.

You could see him now, coming out of your shared garage, holding up his hand in greeting and smiling politely at you. He wore a blue boiler suit, similar to yours, he had a white turtle neck under which just about poked out of his suit. His hair was cut short and stuck to his head in sweat from the warmth of the day but still, you could see the slight curls within the hair. He had a more prominent jawline than some men but his most distinctive feature upon his face was his large nose. You strolled over meeting him halfway and his grin grew as he placed a firm hand upon your shoulder, shaking you slightly.

“You’re first time on the grounds here in Brazill huh? How you feel?” he asked, his french accent heavily accentuated as his hand, tightly grasping your shoulder makes you walk beside him as he leads you to the main area.

“Amazing, I feel so excited being able to be here and I just can’t wait to get in the car and get out on the course!” you eagerly told him, bouncing on your heels, making him chuckle.

“I still feel the same way after all these years. I haven’t been able to stand still yet. But all in due time. I think it’s time you meet the rest of the racers”

Your fist naturally clenches as sudden nerves light up within you, but you swallow trying to push them down. You were used to meeting new people and you had every right as they had to be there. There is nothing to worry about.

“How do you think, they will… you know”

His face turns to yours again and offers a sympathetic smile, knowing the struggles you’ve likely gone through already to be there. “Most of them? Won’t give two shits. All they will care about is if you can drive well. They are men though, especially one of them I’d advise keeping an eye on. He’s gained quite the reputation around other women” he begins to explain but cuts himself off as he chuckles. “There is, of course, the rat, but he’s an asshole to everyone so you need not worry about him”

“I assume the first one you are talking about is James Hunt, and the rat would be Niki Lauda,” you say, thinking back to all the research you had been doing on the racers who you would be joining on the tracks.

“Ah so you’ve done you’re research, smart girl. Yes, you’d be right, but the news doesn’t truly show you what it’s like to know these men. They’re likely not what you expect”

He then pauses again and huffs in a burst of slight laughter, “Or maybe they are exactly what you expect”

You both turn a corner and instantly you felt eyes gaze upon you as you reach the section where all the drivers were preparing to start the qualifying. Patrick still kept a firm hand upon your shoulder as he guided you around, introducing you to all the other racers. Some of them like Patrick were nice and wished you well for tomorrow, some of them were standoffish, hardly saying any words to you as they looked at you in distain, and then Patrick leads you over to the man who currently had his legs spread out on his seat and was flashing you one of his well-known grins as his shaggy blonde hair falls down over his face. His jawline was incredible and made you feel like you could cut yourself on how sharp it was. He was seen as Britain’s heartthrob and everywhere he went he had women drooling over him, and looking at him in person for the first time you could understand why.

“James Hunt, he needs no introduction,” Patrick says, motioning his hand to James and instantly he was off his seat and extending his hand for you to shake.

“I’ve always said we need more girls around and in the cars, I’m glad they are starting to listen,” he says shaking your hand firmly.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you” you reply back, still almost in a daze, you were standing before the James Hunt.

“The pleasure is all mine love. I’m looking forward to getting to know you on the track” and then he pauses, and winks at you, “And off the track. I assume you’ll be attending all the parties. They are the best aren’t they Patrick”

“They are known to become quite a ruckus”

“But that’s all the fun! You’ll love them, you look like the kind of girl that would enjoy a party like that, uh?”

You almost mentally slapped yourself in realising you hadn’t even told him your own name yet, “Y/n, y/n, l/n”

“And that, is a beautiful name, like one of those greek goddesses”

You scoff though your lips twitch up into a smile. You cross your arms as you slowly start to grow used to what James is like, “And how many times do you repeat that to all the women you try to woe?”

James’s eyebrows furrow and he puts on a fake frown at your words, “I have you know, I have never said that to another woman before”

“Do you even know the names of the Greek goddesses?” Partick asks and James was quick to reply with “That is beside the point”

It causes the three of you to laugh though. Like you had seen in all the newspapers James was a flirt, a playboy, but he seemed like someone you could get along with, share a few jokes with and that you were looking forward to.

“You’d think with the amount of laugher here this wasn’t a place where people risk their lives and die”

James tilts his head back and lets out a groan of fake annoyance as he then turns around and you can see the man standing behind James, hand on hip looking extremely pissed off. His hair was a lot curlier than Patrick, and a lot thicker. It was chestnut brown with complimented his hazelnut eyes. His hair was all messy though, scattered across his forehead, the roots starting to become soken with sweat. While he didn’t have the cutting jawline that James possessed which drew women wild, his cheeks bones were more pronounced likely due to the most distinctive feature which was his overbite. His lips covered most of it but still, you could see his two front teeth slightly, which had earned him the nickname, the rat.

“Well, well if it isn’t the rat” James states, sucking his lip onto his top teeth to imitate Niki’s overbite in an attempt to make you laugh.

“Do I have to tell you every time, I don’t mind being called a rat. Rats are smart-”

It seemed as if Niki was going to continue talking but James cut him off again, leaving Niki to suck his cheeks in, in annoyance.

“Why are you here Niki, can’t you bugger off somewhere else”

“I came to see what was causing a buzz in everyone. I don’t understand the excitement”

James steps aside so Niki could see you clearly and Patrick finally takes his hand off your shoulder to introduce you to him.

“Niki, this is y/n, she’s Tyrell-Ford’s new racer”

Niki scoffs, his eyes looking you up and down in distain. “Everyone knows Tyrell is crap”

Patrick’s kind smile falters, a usual grimace that usually appears when talking to Niki arrives on his face instead. “Yes thank you for your opinion, Niki, we all really needed to hear it”

“You’re welcome. Still, I don’t see what all the fuss is. When other drivers join you couldn’t give two craps James, only when you have the chance of getting your dick wet are you suddenly alert”

James’ fists clenched as his face reddens and he takes a stride towards Niki, ready to go for a blow till Patrick steps between them trying to calm down the situation. “He’s only trying to aggravate you to throw you off your game before qualifying James”

“He’s a cunt, and needs a punch right in that ugly face of his” James seethes, taking one last glance between you, Patrick and Niki then storming off to try and cool down. You on the other hand were glaring daggers into Niki, also angered by his rude remarks about you. Niki feels your gaze and his face turns to you again, matching your heated eyes with his ice-cold ones and he refused to break eye contact first.

“When they say you are an asshole, they really mean it huh” you finally spit out.

“I only say what is true, if that makes me an asshole then so be it.”

“I trust that means you don’t have many friends”

Niki tilts his head as he continues to observe you, “Why would I need friends? I’m happy as I am”

You could feel your irritation for him grow stronger and you open your mouth to continue arguing with Niki when another driver jogs up to him, placing his hand upon his shoulder, “Niki, the boss wants to talk to you”

Niki frowned, in confusion and annoyance but shoved his hands in his pockets, mumbling under his breath about how he had seen the boss only half an hour ago. He took a few steps away before pausing and throwing you another look over his shoulder, his lips still cast in a frown “Good luck for tomorrow. You will need it”

You sucked on your bottom lip, trying to not shout back at him and give him the satisfaction of an answer. When he was a safe distance however you muttered under your breath “What a dick”

“I’m sorry about that y/n, but he’s like that with everyone, it’s best to ignore it,” Patrick tells you, shooting you an apologetic glance before turning to the other man. “What did the boss want with Niki?”

“Oh nothing, I just said that so he would go away”

The man cracked a smile and held his hand out to you for you to shake, “I’m Clay Regazzoni, Niki’s teammate”

The swiss man had tanned skin, a bushy moustache and long dark hair but his features were kind and certainly appeared a lot friendlier than his teammate.

“Niki’s teammate? I don’t know how you cope with that” you say shaking his hand back.

He grins at your statement, clicking his mouth as if thinking, “Alcohol, a lot of alcohol”

And with the removal of Niki’s presence, the laughter was brought back to the atmosphere.

“But really, Niki, he says what’s on his mind, and usually all shit and not worth listening to, but he’s an okay guy when you get to know him, you just have to put up with his bad days” Clay finally says as the three of you are able to control your laughter again.

“Which are most days” Patrick finishes.

Clay took a glance over to the direction where Niki had gone five minutes ago and with a nod of his head bit the two of your farewell, claiming he should leave before Niki gets back demanding to know why he had lied to him. Now you had met all the drivers, Patrick leads you back over to your shared garage, and with an excited smile, he lifted up the gate for you to be able to take a look at your new car. It was dark blue with your number and name pressed onto the side surrounded by a few sponsorship brands. Your heart nearly skipped a beat as your eyes widened in excitement.

“Are you ready?” he asks.

You smile, your eyes never leaving the car, “I was born ready”

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[mariesocuniverse]

Relationships: NCT 127

Maeil (aka Daily)

there are two meanings to their ship name

first is, of course, their names mashed together but the second meanings is much cuter and the one fans use to explain their dynamic

When Mae found out their ship name was Maeil her first reaction was “Oh? Is it because I make sure to let Taeil hyung I love him daily?” while cuddling Taeil on a couch

he’s the same age as Mae’s older brother so she treats him as such

her brother is literally like “Are you replacing me with Taeil? I’m your reall brother!” and she’s just there sweating

part of Taeil’s hype squad and will fight donghyuck for the position of president

like the two were on vlive and spent a good fifteen minutes arguing about their positions in the club Mae won but donghyuck refuses to acknowledge it

he could be doing something simple and you can see Mae in the background with a big smile cheering

he’s also like her personal teddy bear whenever she wants cuddles and/or wants to rest

there are just multiple gifs floating around nct twt of Mae tackling Taeil for a hug or her just clinging to him on a couch because she’s either tired and wants to rest or just wants cuddles

absolutely adores his voice

there are multiple compilations on youtube about all the times Mae compliments Taeil on his voice and him just blushing the whole time

Maenny

was lowkey intimidated bc the man is a fucking tree and basically towers over her

but then he saw him play around with some other trainees and that thought disappeared real quick

he’s more like the protective older brother than like a parent like Doyoung or Taeyong

can and has used his height to his advantage when it comes to scaring people who hurt Mae or do something to make her sad

he was one of the first people who found out about her old company and he looked like he was about to storm their building probably would’ve if it weren’t for Mae

one of the first people she became friends with because he always answered questions she had when she was a trainees

before debut there were times people could see Johnny walk somewhere and Mae is just trailing after him like a lost puppy more like running because the man’s legs are long and he walks faster

there was this one time someone asked where Mae was and Johnny just shuffled to the side to reveal her behind him

his large frame was just big enough to hide her from everyone’s vision unless you walk past the two

you know that one vid of predebut nct performing Under The Sea with Johnny wearing the fish head? Mae was supposed to join him dressed as Ariel but the idea was cut last minute

there was this one time Mae couldn’t see something bc she was too short so Johnny lifted her up and put her on his shoulders

okay enough about Mae’s height

during shows he’s always encouraging Mae to talk more when she seems unsure whether to give her input or not

johnny, after an interviewer asks a question: “what do you think Mae?”

absolutely melts whenever she does aegyo because no matter how old she is he’ll always see her as the cute kid who followed him everywhere

MaeTae

honestly it’s hard to pinpoint where Taeyong’s protective parental energy started getting directed to Mae

like it might’ve been somewhere predebut but she doesnt know when

she’s like 50% sure she just blanked out and suddenly Taeyong appeared in her life scolding her for not taking care of herself

it’s not like she’s complaining abt it she’s really grateful to have someone like him in her life

when her family got worried abt her joining a group filled with guys he personally went to her house and calmly explained how Mae will be taken care of and how the group will make sure that she’ll be safe

first person to know if there’s something between SM and Mae that the other members don’t know about

he was also the first member to know about what happened with Mae and her old company

she knows she can trust him with anything

he found her alone crying in one of the practice rooms and she just poured her heart out to him

Whenever they go places as a large group he looks for Mae first before counting the other members

she got lost once and now he doesnt want her out of his sight for more than five minutes

she got him a “world’s greatest dad” trophy as a joke that he has on a shelf in his room

YuMae

you know how yuta acts with mark and winwin? yeah he does the same for Mae

if he isnt giving a hug to mark he’s all the way across the room with Mae giving her a back hug

Mae: does nothing

Yuta: aigoo look how cute she is :)

she doesnt ignore him tho she just returns the affection

likes to jump on his back for a piggy back ride or just run and jump to give him a hug

there was this one clip that went viral of Yuta talking to someone and he just pauses for a moment before turning around to catch Mae, who seemingly came out of nowhere, into a hug and turned back to his conversation

neither yuta nor the other person seemed fazed so this seemed like a regular occurrence to them

he teaches her japanese!

its beneficial to both of them because Mae can learn and Yuta won’t forget any Japanese while living in Korea :D

really really really loves his smile

like real whipped (A/N i wrote this while watching the under the sea performance and now im going through it)

like she sees him smile and that makes her smile and that makes fans smile

Can and has glared at “fans” and other people who make her uncomfortable whether it be at the airport or during their schedules

There was this one time Mae was walking ahead of him when there were fansites following them and he just pulled her back into his arms because he noticed an anti of hers was nearby

It’s like a lion trying to protect a kitten

2Young

again did not know how Doyoung because like a parent to Mae but she just ended up rolling with it

She just has this aura to her that makes you want to care of her and give her love

whenever they go eat together with the group he always put food on her plate, regardless of whether the managers glare at him or not he glares back anyway so they back off

“doyoung she’s been put on a diet-” “she’s going to eat whether you like it or not”

one time Mae got sick with a fever and he just burst into her room with medicine and soup

if taeyong has the “world’s greatest dad” trophy doyoung has the “world’s greatest mom” trophy that he says he’ll throw it away but has it perched on his desk

Mae’s also one of the members who like to clown him

she’s the one of the reasons he already has gray hairs

Mae has a folder of embarrassing photos of Doyoung’s childhood that his brother sent to her and refuses to delete it

she cant do anything about them tho bc Doyoung got his own folder of babie Mae pics courtesy of Mae’s older brother

Haechan has tried and failed to gain access to either of those folders

MaeHyun

major sibling energy

but not like the bickering kind of energy but more like very soft and uwu

there are a lot of people asking them “are you sure you’re not related?” during interviews and fansigns

Fans are just waiting for the two to do a duet bc come on SM you have a real life Disney prince and princess here

Let Mae be the Jasmine to Jaehyun’s Aladdin and perform A Whole New World together

She likes to poke his dimple

There’s this one vid where Jaehyun and Mae are sitting together and she just pokes his dimple and Jaehyun’s smile gets bigger

joked about if he could let her meet yugyeom and bambam bc of 97line and he just went no <3

when jaehyun was inkigayo’s mc nobody could approach her with the infamous inkigayo sandwich bc she was always with him not like anyone could try considering mae has several bodyguards wherever she goes

you know how jaehyun won the alpaca plushie in nct life? he gave it to mae bc he know how much she loved plushies

Honestly the majority of the plushies in her room were given to her by jaehyun

She has a bear named after him uwu

MaeWoo

Loves the energy he gives and thinks he’s so funny

He never fails to make her laugh whenever she needs cheering up

they used to be shy around each other when he first joined the group but they caught each other having a midnight snack so they just talked at 3am eating ramen until doyoung found them and told them to go to bed

now it’s just tradition for them to go to a convenience store together and eat ramen or whatever snacks they decide to get

nobody is allowed to join them its only a MaeWoo thing  

Mae has natural aegyo but Jungwoo has taught her to use it to her advantage which she does but not often

Another one of Mae’s cuddle buddies

She just thinks he looks so soft so she just clings to him whenever he’s nearby

Major uwu energy over here when it comes to the two of them together

idk why but i dont see him as the type to be protective when it comes to her dating

he’s more like

“you dont have a boyfriend yet? damn people dont know what they’re missing”

or on the other side of the spectrum

“good luck to your future boyfriend he’ll need it if he’s gonna date you”

2Ma/MaeKyung

Older brother that doesn’t feel like an older brother

Majority of the time he kinda just feels like they’re the same age or younger so newer fans get shocked when they find out she’s younger

Like there was this one time Johnny the two were playing Smash Bros and Mark was whining because he lost and Mae was jumping in the background cheering it was his fourth loss in a row but he won’t say it

they were kinda awkward around each other at first so johnny literally had to stick them in a room together and didn’t let them leave until they talked to each other

it worked and they just vibed and rambled about different topics like trainee life and what mark’s life in Vancouver was like

speaking of Vancouver

one time during their stay in Vancouver they wanted to have a friend date but he lost her at a mall and took twenty minutes trying to find her until she used the announcement service to call him

he wouldve ask his Vancouver friends to go with them but some of them had a crush on mae so no <3

When she first starting writing songs and her own lyrics she went to Mark first and asked if the lyrics she wrote were good

They were amazing and Mark made sure to tell her that :D

mae’s reaction to his dream graduation was one of the saddest things czennies have seen so when she found out he was coming back she would not let go of him

Literally could not stop smiling whenever mark was with the rest of dream filming for Resonance

It’s just very wholesome and czennies are willing to riot if SM decides to separate them

Maechan

You know how I said Maehyun was the soft and uwu type of siblings? Well Maechan are the bickering type of siblings

You know the ones who like to bicker over minor things but still would protect each other for life

they have so much dirt on each other on trainee days lmao

Haechan to Mae: lmao what a loser

Haechan when someone insults Mae: listen here you little shit

The only person allowed to clown her is him and the rest of NCT

he heard a trainee talk shit about her once and they still can’t look haechan in the eye

he’s only a few months older than her but he uses the “i’m older!” card whenever he can

“i’m older therefore i get to go first” “excuse me sir but you’re only three months older than me” “but im still older”

they fight for the title of the favorite 127 maknae but they both know that can do what they want

Mae is more lenient towards the hyungs during yaja time than haechan is tho so she just vibes whenever they go to scold him when the games over

they do team up a lot so they’re a menace when they do something together

especially in games

their competitive nature plus their brain power together? its over it even started

50% of the time they have to be separated from each other when it comes to choosing teams

the other 50% is someone choosing both of them because they want that easy win

Those two are willing to risk it all even for a bag of chips

[kookie-doughs]

Y/N L/N AND THE HALFBLOODS

Percy Jackson X Reader

-Y/N L/N met Percy Jackson and everything is now ruined.

Chapter 22: Then It Ended

As soon as we came, Annabeth ang Grover tackled me. We were the first heroes to return alive to Half-Blood Hill since Luke, so of course everybody treated us as if we'd won some reality-TV contest. According to camp tradition, we wore laurel wreaths to a big feast prepared in our honor, then led a procession down to the bonfire, where we got to burn the burial shrouds our cabins had made for us in our absence.

Annabeth's shroud was so beautiful—gray silk with embroidered owls— Percy told her it seemed a shame not to bury her in it. She punched him and told him to shut up. Percy being the son of Poseidon, he didn't have any cabin mates, so the Ares cabin had volunteered to make his shroud. They'd taken an old bedsheet and painted smiley faces with X'ed-out eyes around the border, and the word LOSER painted really big in the middle.

As I was still unclaimed, Hermes cabin had made me one. (Just... IDK go crazy with your shroud IG) It was fun to burn. As Apollo's cabin led the sing-along and passed out s'mores, Percy and I was surrounded by my Hermes cabinmates, Annabeth's friends from Athena, and Grover's satyr buddies, who were admiring the brand-new searcher's license he'd received from the Council of Cloven Elders. The council had called Grover's performance on the quest "Brave to the point of indigestion. Horns-and-whiskers above anything we have seen in the past." The only ones not in a party mood were Clarisse and her cabinmates, whose poisonous looks told me they'd never forgive us for disgracing their dad. That was okay with me. Even Dionysus's welcome-home speech wasn't enough to dampen my spirits. "Yes, yes, so the little brats didn't get themselves killed and now they'll have an even bigger head. Well, huzzah for that. In other announcements, there will be no canoe races this Saturday...." Going back to the cabin I finally had time to talk to Luke. Who just expressed his relief of me being fine, and how he was scared when Annabeth told everyone about me. No wonder everyone was so shocked seeing me come back with Percy. On the Fourth of July, the whole camp gathered at the beach for a fireworks display by cabin nine. Being Hephaestus's kids, they weren't going to settle for a few lame red-white-and-blue explosions. They'd anchored a barge offshore and loaded it with rockets the size of Patriot missiles. According to Annabeth, who'd seen the show before, the blasts would be sequenced so tightly they'd look like frames of animation across the sky. The finale was supposed to be a couple of hundred-foot-tall Spartan warriors who would crackle to life above the ocean, fight a battle, then explode into a million colors. As Annabeth, Percy and I were spreading a picnic blanket, Grover showed up to tell us good-bye. He was dressed in his usual jeans and T-shirt and sneakers, but in the last few weeks he'd started to look older, almost high-school age. His goatee had gotten thicker. He'd put on weight. His horns had grown at least an inch, so he now had to wear his rasta cap all the time to pass as human. "I'm off," he said. "I just came to say ... well, you know." I tried to feel happy for him. After all, it wasn't every day a satyr got permission to go look for the great god Pan. But it was hard saying good-bye. I'd only known Grover a year, yet he was my oldest friend. Annabeth and I gave him a hug. She told him to keep his fake feet on. I asked him where he was going to search first. "Kind of a secret," he said, looking embarrassed. "I wish you could come with me, guys, but humans and Pan ..." "We understand," Annabeth said. "You got enough tin cans for the trip?" "Yeah." "And you remembered your reed pipes?" "Jeez, Annabeth," he grumbled. "You're like an old mama goat." But he didn't really sound annoyed. He gripped his walking stick and slung a backpack over his shoulder. He looked like any hitchhiker you might see on an American highway. "Well," he said, "wish me luck." He gave Annabeth and I another hug. He clapped Percy on the shoulder, then headed back through the dunes. Fireworks exploded to life overhead: Hercules killing the Nemean lion, Artemis chasing the boar, George Washington (who, by the way, was a son of Athena) crossing the Delaware. "Hey, Grover," Percy called. He turned at the edge of the woods. "Wherever you're going—I hope they make good enchiladas." Grover grinned, and then he was gone, the trees closing around him. "We'll see him again," Annabeth said. July passed. I spent my daysplanning out strategies with Luke for capture-the-flag and making alliances with the other cabins to keep the banner out of Ares's hands. I got to the top of the climbing wall for the first time without getting scorched by lava. From time to time, Percy and I would walk past the Big House, he'd glance up at the attic windows, and think about the Oracle.

I tried to convince him that its prophecy had come to completion. "You shall go west, and face the god who has turned." "Been there, done that—even though the traitor god had turned out to be Ares rather than Hades." "You shall find what was stolen, and see it safe returned." "Check. One master bolt delivered. One helm of darkness back on Hades." "You shall be betrayed by one who calls you a friend." Percy recited. "Ares had pretended to be our friend, then betrayed us. That must be what the Oracle meant.... Or maybe Nereid?"

"And you shall fail to save what matters most, in the end." He sighed. "I had failed to save my mom and lost you..."

"So why are you still uneasy?" The last night of the summer session came all too quickly. The campers had one last meal together. We burned part of our dinner for the gods. At the bonfire, the senior counselors awarded the end-of-summer beads. Percy and I got our own leather necklace, and when I saw the bead for my first summer. The design was pitch black, with a sea-green trident shimmering in the center.

"This is so beautiful..." I smiled to Percy. "The choice was unanimous," Luke announced. "This bead commemorates the first Son of the Sea God at this camp, and the quest he undertook into the darkest part of the Underworld to stop a war!" The entire camp got to their feet and cheered. Even Ares's cabin felt obliged to stand. Athena's cabin steered Annabeth to the front so she could share in the applause. I'm not sure I'd ever felt as happy or sad as I did at that moment. I'd finally found a family, people who cared about me and thought I'd done something right. And in the morning, most of them would be leaving for the year. * * * The next morning, Luke called me. He gave me a paper, telling me to fill it out, and asked me to meet him as soon as I could. I knew Dionysus must've filled it out, because he stubbornly insisted on getting my name wrong: Dear (WRONG NAME) , If you intend to stay at Camp Half-Blood year-round, you must inform the Big House by noon today. If you do not announce your intentions, we will assume you have vacated your cabin or died a horrible death. Cleaning harpies will begin work at sundown. They will be authorized to eat any unregistered campers. All personal articles left behind will be incinerated in the lava pit. Have a nice day! Mr. D (Dionysus) Camp Director, Olympian Council #12 That's another thing about ADHD. Deadlines just aren't real to me until I'm staring one in the face. Summer was over, and I still don't know what to do. I had no where to go to. The only option I had was Percy's or maybe Hades was not joking about inviting me back to the Underworld. Sighing I decided to just meet Luke before filling it for second opinions. The campgrounds were mostly deserted, shimmering in the August heat. All the campers were in their cabins packing up, or running around with brooms and mops, getting ready for final inspection. Argus was helping some of the Aphrodite kids haul their Gucci suitcases and makeup kits over the hill, where the camp's shuttle bus would be waiting to take them to the airport. I was walking around looking for Luke. I jumped when I felt someone tap me from behind. I instinctively unsheathed my knife and turned only to see Luke with his hands raised.

"Whoa! Calm down just me." He laughed.

"Kinda weird seeing someone laugh at a knife pointed at them." I smirked sheathing my knife.

"I only laugh since its you." He smiled and ruffled my hair. "Are you done with everything?"

"Not really. I don't know whether to leave or not yet. That's why I came. Help me?" I asked him.

He turned to me and to the forest. "How about you hear me out about something... important and private... then decide?" He gestured towards the forest.

"Not planning on killing me are you?" I squinted at him.

He gasped. "Not you. Never. I would never hurt you."

I let him lead me to a shrouded area of the forest.

"How serious is this thing that you can't let anyone see? I am blindly trusting you here Luke." I laughed nervously. But when he didn't reply I felt something was off. "Luke, okay this isn't cool. How deep into the forest do we have to go?"

"Y/N remember when you said... You want to be the person I trust...? How you promised to help me?"

"Luke?" He took my hand and pulled me sharply. I winced at how hard he pulled me. "That hurts! Let me go!"

He snapped back and let go of my wrist. "I-I'm sorry... Y/N..."

As much as I knew I had to leave, I couldn't I was worried about him. I reluctantly placed a hand on his shoulder. "What's happening?"

"I did it..." I said and sat on the ground. "I swear I didn't mean to get you hurt. But, I confess to everything. I  stole bolt and helm, I summoned the hound, I gave Percy the cursed shoes... And just now, I tried to kill Percy Jackson." He looked at me with empty eyes.

I shot up and looked at him in emotions I couldn't put in words. "W-Wh---" I wanted to leave and check on Percy. But once again, seeing him right now... I need to stay with him. "Why are you telling me this...?"

"Join me... please?" his voice was weak. He sounded vulnerable. "Let's serve my Lord together..."

"L-Luke... no. I-I can't do that!" I took his shoulder, "Y-You should stay with me instead. How about that, huh? L-Let's explain to Chiron and the others... come on please. I could help you!"

Nothing was working.

"Come with me..." He muttered.

"Luke, I won't join you. You have to change your mind. You can't do this."

"I can't change my mind."

"I can help you with that? How about you go with me huh? I could spend all my time doing this and that. Please, just change your mind."

He didn't reply for a while until he whispered, "Promise me."

"Promise you what?"

"You'll stay with me."

"What? Luke I wo--"

"You won't join... Just...don't stay here for the year... and stay with me."

"I-If I stay with you... what would that mean?"

"Yo-You... might change my mind."

"I'll go." I replied with no hesitation. "I'll leave camp for the year. And I'll find my parent to prove to you that Gods and Goddess aren't all bad. We'll find my parent together."

"I do my lord's bidding--"

"You can still do it. If you want to. But whatever happens... stays only between us. I'll stay with you until I change your mind. And I'll bring you back to camp."

"I would never do anything to ruin your trust in me." He knelt down. It was kinda awkward but hey... "I need you."

Worry not hero. We shall stay.

"Please..."

We'll meet again. Wait for us, we shall join you soon. Now leave.

I had no idea what happened since when I came to Luke was gone and there was no sign of him anywhere. How were we going to st---

We will meet him once we leave. Now go as our hero needs us.

I suddenly remembered Percy's state that Luke had told me about. So I ran. I ran to the Big House

***

Percy finally opened his eyes. He was propped up in bed in the sickroom of the Big House, his right hand bandaged like a club. Argus stood guard in the corner. Annabeth and I sat next to Percy, I was holding his nectar glass and she was dabbing a washcloth on his forehead.

"Here we are again," Percy said. "You idiot," Annabeth said, "You were green and turning gray when we found you. If it weren't for Chiron's healing..." "Now, now," Chiron's voice said. "Percy's constitution deserves some of the credit." He was sitting near the foot of the bed in human form. His lower half was magically compacted into the wheelchair, his upper half dressed in a coat and tie. He smiled, but his face looked weary and pale, the way it did when he'd been up all night grading Latin papers. "How are you feeling?" he asked. "Like my insides have been frozen, then microwaved." "Apt, considering that was pit scorpion venom. Now you must tell me, if you can, exactly what happened." Between sips of nectar, he told them the story.

I bit my lip trying to keep what happened between Luke and I private. It was a risky move that would not be approved by anyone after all. The room was quiet for a long time. "I can't believe that Luke..." Annabeth's voice faltered. Her expression turned angry and sad. "Yes. Yes, I can believe it. May the gods curse him.... He was never the same after his quest."

Percy was looking at me as if checking what was my reaction to his story. "This must be reported to Olympus," Chiron murmured. "I will go at once." "Luke is out there right now," Percy said. "I have to go after him." Chiron shook his head. "No, Percy. The gods—" "Won't even talk about Kronos," Percy snapped. "Zeus declared the matter closed!" "Percy, I know this is hard. But you must not rush out for vengeance. You aren't ready." "Chiron... your prophecy from the Oracle... it was about Kronos, wasn't it? Was I in it? Y/N? And Annabeth?" Chiron glanced nervously at the ceiling. "Percy, it isn't my place—" "You've been ordered not to talk to me about it, haven't you?" His eyes were sympathetic, but sad. "You will be a great hero, child. I will do my best to prepare you. But if I'm right about the path ahead of you..." Thunder boomed overhead, rattling the windows. "All right!" Chiron shouted. "Fine!" He sighed in frustration. "The gods have their reasons, Percy. Knowing too much of your future is never a good thing." "We can't just sit back and do nothing," He said. "We will not sit back," Chiron promised. "But you must be careful. Kronos wants you to come unraveled. He wants your life disrupted, your thoughts clouded with fear and anger. Do not give him what he wants. Train patiently. Your time will come." "Assuming I live that long." Chiron put his hand on Percy's ankle. "You'll have to trust me, Percy. You will live. But first you must decide your path for the coming year. I cannot tell you the right choice...." I got the feeling that he had a very definite opinion, and it was taking all his willpower not to advise me. "But you must decide whether to stay at Camp Half-Blood year-round, or return to the mortal world for seventh grade and be a summer camper. Think on that. When I get back from Olympus, you must tell me your decision." "I'll be back as soon as I can," Chiron promised. "Argus will watch over you." He glanced at Annabeth. "Oh, and, my dear... whenever you're ready, they're here." "Who's here?" Percy asked. Nobody answered. Chiron rolled himself out of the room. I heard the wheels of his chair clunk carefully down the front steps, two at a time. Annabeth studied the floor. "What's wrong?" Percy asked her. "Nothing. I ... just took your advice about something. You ... um ... need anything?" "Yeah. Help me up. I want to go outside." "Percy, that isn't a good idea." Percy slid his legs out of bed. Annabeth and I caught him before he could crumple to the floor.

I said, "I told you ..." "I'm fine," He insisted.

He managed a step forward. Then another, still leaning heavily on me. Argus followed us outside, but he kept his distance. By the time we reached the porch, his face was beaded with sweat. But we had managed to make it all the way to the railing. It was dusk. The camp looked completely deserted. The cabins were dark and the volleyball pit silent. No canoes cut the surface of the lake. Beyond the woods and the strawberry fields, the Long Island Sound glittered in the last light of the sun. "What are you going to do?" Annabeth asked us. "I don't know." Percy replied. "I got the feeling Chiron wanted me to stay year-round, to put in more individual training time, but I'm not sure that's what I want. I also don't want to leave you both with Clarisse only." Annabeth pursed her lips, then said quietly, "I'm going home for the year, Percy." He stared at her. "You mean, to your dad's?" She pointed toward the crest of Half-Blood Hill. Next to Thalia's pine tree, at the very edge of the camp's magical boundaries, a family stood silhouetted—two little children, a woman, and a tall man with blond hair. They seemed to be waiting. The man was holding a backpack that looked like the one Annabeth had gotten from Waterland in Denver. "I wrote him a letter when we got back," Annabeth said. "Just like you suggested. I told him... I was sorry. I'd come home for the school year if he still wanted me. He wrote back immediately. We decided... we'd give it another try." "That took guts." She pursed her lips. "You won't try anything stupid during the school year, will you? At least ... not without sending me an Iris-message? Both of you?" Percy managed a smile. "I won't go looking for trouble. I usually don't have to."

"You already know my plans."

"When I get back next summer," she said, "we'll hunt down Luke. We'll ask for a quest, but if we don't get approval, we'll sneak off and do it anyway. Agreed?" "Sounds like a plan worthy of Athena."

She held out her hand. Percy shook it. She gave me a hug. "Take care, Seaweed Brain," Annabeth told Percy. "Keep your eyes open."

"You too, Wise Girl."

Then turned to me, "Good luck on your own quest Droopy."

"Of course Peabody." We watched her walk up the hill and join her family. She gave her father an awkward hug and looked back at the valley one last time. She touched Thalia's pine tree, then allowed herself to be lead over the crest and into the mortal world. "I made my decision." Percy said. "What's yours?"

"I'll be leaving camp... I'm going to look for my parent..." He looked at me in shock. "I'll be back next summer," I promised him. "I'll survive until then."

"Alone?"

I smiled at him.

"Don't you want to stay with us? Mom said---"

"I want to find my parent. I need to. I'll be fine Percy."

I helped Percy to his cabin so he could pack and went to mine. To my surprise I see a middle-aged man with an athletic figure slim and fit with salt-and-pepper hair, and a very familiar sly grin. He had bags at his foot.

"Delivery for Y/N L/N."

"Uhm..."

"Hermes." He said.

I froze and looked at him with wide eyes.

"Personally packed. As a thank you for what you're about to do." He smiled softly and handed me the bags.

"H-Huh...?"

"For helping Luke."

"I..."

Don't forget her mail!

Ooh! And tell her to bring us snacks next time we meet since it'll be often now!

No it wouldn't be often! She'll be with Luke!

"Both of you keep quiet." Pulling out a mail he handed it to me. "Luke... prayed to me telling me about your plan. He asked me to help you. I don't know what or why he did it. But I know he'll change thanks to you. So do guide him."

"Sorry you lost me at the talking air..." I blinked.

Hermes laughed and showed a caduceus. "It's just George and Martha."

"Hi?"

Hello!

Hi

"I just wanted to let you know. No god or goddess could see you. No matter how hard they tried. So your secrets.. are really secrets. Good luck on your travel."

Next time we meet you should have snacks.

Then he vanished.

Staring at the letter on my hand, I was stunned seeing it was from... my mom and dad.

Sweetie,

You've made quite a friend here.

-Mom and Dad.

I immediately knew where to look. I hurriedly took my bags not bothering to check the contents. I ran to Percy's cabin and helped him out so we could leave.

Percy got a cab and looked at me worriedly.

"I'll write you. Stay safe Arthur Curry." I ruffled his hair and watched him go.

I didn't know where to go so I just went to the first secluded area I saw.

"You have more stuffs than when you arrived." I heard someone behind me.

"You prayed to your dad. I hope he knows how to pack." I sighed turning to him. Turning around I barely made out Luke from the few days I last saw him. "You okay?"

"Do you know where to look first?"

Call upon our hound.

I whistled, I don't know why. But when I did, D/N came out of the blue. Luke looked at me and my dear dog, who was probably bigger than the hound he'd summon back then. "How do feel about L.A?" I said riding on D/N and making space behind me for Luke.

~~~END OF BOOK 1~~~

Previous | Book 1 Masterlist | Series Masterlist

END OF BOOK ONE!!! THANK YOU FOR READING YLATHB I HOPE YOU ENJOY!! I'LL PUBLISH BOOK 2 WHEN I'M DONE OR EVEN AT LEAST HAVE WRITTEN 5 CHAPTERS OF THE BOOK 2 ;))

I HOPE TO SEE YOU NEXT TIME!!!

Taglist?

@gayer-than-the-gayest-gay @the-natureofme @booknerd-3000 @katara720 @ynfics

[littlenahsstuff]

In love, I swear.

A/n Literally my first time writing actual fanfiction. This might be a flaming dumpster fire idk. I will persevere and cringe later, but for now, enjoy.

supreme!Cordelia Goode x reader

TW:nothing much, just a big old fluffernutter sandwich. A little angst. Swears I guess.

Synopsis: Cordelia has just recruited you to be a counselor at Robicheauxs and it's safe to say you are head over heels for the supreme. Unfortunately, you aren't the one to tell her.

You always thought that you weren't too special of a witch, you had the basic witchy spells down and specialized in the people who struggled on the inside... but in a more witchy sense. You also helped the witches who needed to get their powers more developed or who ones that are just behind in school. A sort of glorified counselor you suppose. It's sorta funny, especially since you aren't the most confident, how you can talk to all of the girls. When it boils down to it you are just a witchy gal searching for love. Specifically Cordelia's. It could never happen though.

Your love life wasn't the only area you lacked in before Robicheauxs, you had been struggling to find a job suited for your interests. Let's just say that you have a lifetime ban from one of the Mcdonalds in Louisiana. Fire and grease doesn't mix.

Of course, if it wasn't for dear, sweet, precious, Cordelia, you would be living on the streets. Luckily that didnt happen and so here you are today, three months in to your teaching position at Robicheauxs.

Oh, the moment, "You're hired. I look forward to expanding the academy's family and getting to know you better especially," left the Supremes lips, the better off you were.

And yet, even with all of the joy that comes with finally getting paid, there were the challenges as well. For starters, everyone was extremely nice to you, even though you kept mostly to yourself, there was this one person that made this heaven more hellish. Madison the bitch witch Montgomery.

You had been warned by Zoe, your closest confidante in this new place and also Madisons freaking girlfriend, that she was no pleasant peach. Never in all of your doubtful thoughts, had how bad it actually was crossed your mind. It was never the cockiness that got to you, you had a different appreciation for it than most. Found the confidence refreshing almost. No, no no no no. It was in fact, that she was constantly trying to dig up dirt on you.

"You're too much of a goody two shoes y/n," she once stated with a glare. The same day you had heard Zoe squabbling about something and your name came up. Your name and the fact Madison had stolen your wallet to look at your license. It turned up later on your bed stand.

Madison's a lover of Zoe and drama you've come to find out.

It's harmless though really, you dont mind the extra bit of attention that comes with it. Its flattering so no need to complain to anybody, especially not Cordelia.

Cordelia, mmm, yeah now shes the biggest threat here. She is the reason you got this job and might be the reason you lose it.

She once caught you with your doodle journal. It was a harmless question,

"Y/n, what're you drawing?" She looked over your shoulder. You almost jumped out of your skin and your sketchbook went flying.

"Oh dear, are you alright?" She worried her lips a bit. Her big, plump, kissable lips. Come on Y/n, get out of it.

"Yes," you squeaked. Sinking farther into the sofa. She chuckled her beautiful chuckle and sat on the couch arm.

"So, what was my favorite school counselor drawing just then?" She questioned. Glancing to the thrown book.

Your face went red.

"Uh-" you paused, come on you're making it a bigger deal than it has to be, "you." You couldn't look into her eyes.

She gazed at you at you and it felt like a hole was being burned into your skull.

"Okay," Cordelia said, leaving it at that. Stood up and made to walk away.

"Wait!" She paused and turned back to you, seeing you scramble to get your sketchbook.

"Yes?" Her eyebrows raised in surprise.

"I- don't you want to see it?" You said and you slapped yourself mentally for about the hundredth time she walked in.

She smiled softly at you, "Of course, I thought you didn't. You looked scared to death, like bambi."

"Okay," you flipped back towards the page and cringed. It wasn't your best peice. You could never capture her beauty right.

Her eyes scanned over it, widening before squinting with her grin.

"It's so good!" She gasped.

"Yes, that is Cordelia Goode," you joked in a monotone manner. She slapped your shoulder jokingly, making you snort.

"You nerd, I didn't mean it that way. Either way, you did a fantastic job! I wished I looked as good as you make me seem," she muttered the last bit, bit you heard it. It saddens you to remember the damage Fiona did.

"Hey, Cordy," you started. You realized that you used a nickname that Madison did, but she doesn't seem to care.

"You know what I think? I think that you're wrong. You see I just can't for the life of me get your soft proud loving smile right. Your eyes aren't as warm and glowing as they are in reality. I couldn't manage to picture the right placement for those worry lines or crowd feet you have. You might not like them, but to me they show that you worry and care and that you laugh at the stupidest of things, which is a trait I adore. You are more perfect than any Davinci or Van Gogh," you say. You don't like when your friends feel bad about themselves.

Cordelia's tearing up a bit and wiles it away. "Didn't know you were a goddamn poet too?" She joked with a giggle, "thanks y/n, sometimes I need to hear something like that."

"No problem Cordelia," I can't help it, you're my muse, is what you want to say.

"Well, I have some paperwork, but it was nice to see ya," she hurriedly excused and rushed out.

Unbeknownst to you, Madison was watching. She knew exactly how to get dirt on you now. She had something all along.

The next week you spent daydreaming about Cordy...elia, you couldnt help but go back to that conversation. You needed to be more discrete, way more descrete.

So you made sure to draw your crush no more. That didn't change the fact you forgot to destroy the evidence in writing.

You had slept in a little too late, so in a rush you were to get to your office. The reason you had being you daydreaming about Cordelia and yours faux life together a little too long.

A bunch of new juicy stuff for Madison as she snatched it from your bedside table. It was too easy really.

She opened it up to the first page. It acted like a normal diary, just stating checklists of things to do and things you did. The size was fairly large, so skipping a few pages till she got to the juicy stuff and the part where you actually did know Cordy wasn't harmful.

It was a barf fest of emotion. "Oh Cordelia is so awesome, oh I'm so lucky to work with Cordelia, oh my, I won't ever get a chance with Cordelia, she's the supreme!"

"Ew," Madison groaned, whipping out her phone.

Then she found it, the goldmine of confessions. It was all the way in the back, meaning you had wrote it recently.

"Dear, myself

Cordelia today caught me drawing a picture of herself and said something I didn't particularly enjoy listening about herself. I can't believe Fiona would send her into such a deep hatred of herself that even with her gone she's hurting. She's no mother. Cordelia is the love of my life, even if I'm not hers, she deserves all the love I can give. She's not broken, but she just needs someone to love her and I do. I promise to give her as much love as possible without her finding out what kind it really is, I'm in love, I swear.

Sincerely, Y/N."

So she snapped a picture of the page.

After school was over Cordelia was not expecting Madison to barge into her office. Let alone with something regarding YOU of all people.

"Cordy, I've got something to tell you about y/n!" Madison sang out, waving her phone in front of Cordelia's face as she sat on top her desk.

Madison was just careless with others and too carried g about herself. It was the perfect storm. The only person who could ever take it too far to just prove a point. That there was something wrong with you.

If Madison Montgomery had taken one moment to actually think about it, she was just jealous. Jealous that another person at the coven was better than her to Cordelia. She was one spoiled bitch growing up. Guess it backfired.

"What?" Cordelia questioned in concern, "Is she okay? Madison what did you do to her!?" Her thoughts raced, Madison's pranks often went a little too far. She did kill Misty.

"Now now Cordy, don't get your panties in a twist. Here read this," Madison demanded to her supreme, she shoved it into her face and Cordelia grabbed it.

Her eyes expected headlines on the news or a mugshot, but she realized it was just your writing.

"Madison," she warned.

"Come on, I know you can read!" Madison poked Cordelia's forehead, prompting a slap from the Supreme.

Ms. Goode exhaled, "Fine."

Her eyes fluttered over the words, brows furrowing with every sentence. She couldn't comprehend, could she read?? It seemed to her as if her brain was creating what she wanted to see, but no, you wrote it. Unfortunately.

Everything's silent. Then the thought flits across her head, you like her back.

"In love, I swear."

Oh she's mad. Not at you, no, she could never. Madison on the other hand better,

"Get out of my office right now," Cordelia whispered. Madison's smile faltered.

"What, didn't you want to know your feelings are reciprocated? Come on, I'm just trying to get you two to speed up the process." Madison hopped of the desk and sauntered out.

What has she done.

Cordelia was wracked with guilt for awhile, with no way to tell you either. How does one even go about telling someone they read their deepest darkest secrets. How!?

She couldn't, so she did what she could. She pulled away from you and into her work. All of those lunches spent together stopped. The nights in the green house gone. Reading together on the weekends by the fire, gone.

And it left you empty. You had no idea what you did, but you must've done something.

So you decided to confront her, you hadn't gone much sleep since, so you were literally and figuratively tired of all of this shit.

Your knock on the door startled Cordelia, but your presence startled her even more. Both of you looked like wrecks.

"Oh, Y/n! Please, come in," Cordelia gestured and you did, closing the door behind you.

It was then that you finally broke down.

"What did I do Delia!?" You sobbed, falling to your knees. Yes it was dramatic and not even you expected it but you were holding your emotions for so long.

"Oh," Cordelia briskly moved over to you, concern painted on her face. She was watching you carefully, you looked so fragile. Just like she had felt at times.

"I'm sorry," you whimpered, "What did I do?" Her hand tilted your head towards her, but you still couldn't look into her brown eyes, opting for the floor. If you did, you probably wouldn't be able to look away.

"Y/n look at me sweetie," the nicknames never failed to make your heart soar. It was your weakness, your eyes met and they were glued there.

"What did I do?"

"Nothing nothing!" She took a deep breath, "I saw a page from your journal."

You froze, terror crept up your spine.

"Oh my god. Um Cordelia I am so sorry, you, wow I- god I'm so creepy! It's perfectly fine if you want to not be my friend or fire me. I didn't do it to be weird, it was how I expressed myself. I was trying to hide it I promise, i dont even know what happened!?"

"I'm gonna kill Madison, faster than my mother did," Cordelia groaned.

"Wh-" your brain malfunctions. Is-Is Cordelia kissing you? Right now?

Indeed she was and just like you dreamed about, her lips were so soft and her kiss gentle.

Maybe Madison could be forgiven... but not without a harsh talk.

"In love, I swear," she repeated in a whisper against your lips.

[graceedcoup]

Please tell me you're very detailed headcanon about Asmo holding the family together and raising Satan, because I headcanon that too.

Hi! I appreciate this literally so much I'm gonna kiss you on the mouth. Have a beautiful day ♡

I'd like to start off talking about this by acknowledging the fact that this entire very long headcanon hinges entirely on the fact that I'm ignoring canon details that support the suggestion that Satan was born as a fully grown demon and not formed as an infant who had to grow through formative childhood developmental stages. I would rather believe the latter because I lov..E Ba-biEs *ahem*.. because its more fun to think about.

Before I start I would also like to say that this is part of a much bigger more complicated idea about the dynamic each brother has with eachother and their own personal childhoods and histories, which I've went into some detail about with Levi just recently. But that was all still when they were celestial beings.

Let's fast forward to right after the fall. The brothers are all war damaged, bloody, grieving, guilty, humiliated. Lucifer has just basically been strongarmed into permanently pledging his loyalty to someone he doesn't yet trust or like at all just to get a second chance for his sister who he will never see again and is still effectively dead to him, and to make sure his family has some security. Which I think may be the piece of fuel in the fire inside him that finally expels this fucking hairball of repressed emotion into a living breathing little... infant demon. That absolutely no one asked for. Cue Lucifer having the worst cast of postpartum you've ever seen and resenting the fuck out of this baby and everything it represents and every bit more stress its gonna pile onto him.

But never fear, thats why family is here! Except they're not. They've all got their own shit to deal with. Mammon is already taking care of the rest of his siblings 24/7. He can barley make time to eat or sleep. Levi is very badly hurt, having been a target in the actual battle because of his former status in the army of angels and having gone through a very dramatic change to his body even compared to the rest of his brothers, he can't move very much yet. Belphie is struggling very hard with his newfound vice, he can rarley keep his eyes open, and when he can, hes grieving, hard. He was extremely close to Lilith. Beel... is an entirely different person. Quiet is an understatement. Hes nearly motionless for days at a time in his misery and deeeep in survivors guilt.

And Asmo is also hurt. They all are but him, not quite as badly. Emotionally he's taken a big blow, he's confused, he feels hideous and disgusted by himself, his new body and these new... feelings. He looks for a distraction. Hes been looking for days but his big brother just coughed out a little brother and Asmodeus instantly has stars in his eyes. If any of them have any kind of maternal instinct, its this one. Love is, after all, his whole thing. That horrible little tantruming ball of pure demonic fury is his new baby brother and hes never been happier to step up to the plate. Lucifer is almost too eager to let Asmo hold him the first time and from that moment on those two are inseparable.

-> Taking a pause from this pseudo fic to point out the thing that got me thinking about all this in the first place was a conversation about halfway through season one where MC refuses to make a pact with Satan the first time because he's doing it to spite Lucifer. They ask the brothers what the fuck is going on with that and they all have a little sit-down where they talk about his birth. All the brothers present look kind of uncomfortable but share the story as clearly as they can. But Asmo looks like this and gives this line:

He looks downright excited and this is the only line we get about actually raising him we get. For some reason it stuck with me, idk why. Asmo just seems so proud to share about how they taught Satan to be a person. Back to how I think that went

-> Asmo quickly learns about his ability to charm other demons and just as soon as he learns how to control that he feels comfortable using a very mild form of it to calm this baby the fuck down. And it works! Thank his cold uncaring father it works. Satan smiles for the first time in his life and he sheds a few tears both in relief and at how unbearably cute he is when he's not screaming. As soon as this baby is manageable and his brothers aren't in nearly as much pain, they all start pitching in. Doing whatever it takes to calm him down, finding things to make him happy. They make the disturbing discovery that its mostly gore that makes him smile. And yanking other peoples hair. His first giggle comes with a tiny fistful of newly-black strands he won't let go of.

Even with his brothers contributing to his care, Asmo still has a major part in keeping him company. Lucifer pitches in the most after him but if his favorite caretaker isn't around hes fussy as all hell.

Asmo, being blessed with the emotional intelligence the rest of his family seems to lack, is responsible for calming the kid down and teaching him healthier ways to manage his anger and stress. He teaches him meditation and yoga and self care. Hes the only one of his brothers with both the interest and patience to teach him how to read, how to cook, how to mind his manners. His anger never disappears. Hes still more prone to outbursts than any of his siblings ever were. Hes still much more violent when he does snap. But he can control it better than he could the day before and he keeps improving. Week after week and year after year, Satan grows into somebody all his brothers are proud of.

And hes still bonded to Asmodeus the most. Despite their clashing personalities they manage to get along perfectly and spend quite a bit of time together.

Theyre paired off in Devilgram and even the main body of the story quite a bit. Asmos even is Satan's background picture during phonecalls. I'm not sure if I'm reading way too far into that wait I totally am or if the writers are even aware they're doing that but I think its sweet and ive been thinking about it for months. Thank you for the opportunity to organize it all into one place ♡

[corpsentry]

allahrakhii (dot) tumblr (dot) com/post/148596180152/honestly-the-depths-of-ignorance-of-white-people

this is a really good post for those who want to learn more about the harmful portrayal of brown women in the legend of zelda series. theres a bunch of helpful links that direct to articles throughout the post as well. if you scroll through a bit youll find the section that covers why the gerudo outfit is racist.

i would appreciate if you post this and not simply brush it aside! this message isnt intended to be hostile or offensive, but rather it is an opportunity for learning and discussion. thank you.

i find the insinuation that i might brush this aside rather ominous anon! first of all, thank you for sharing this post. as someone vaguely from southeast asia i uncovered another facet of the fuckcluster of internalized racism in my system while reading it and will be thinking about it for a while to come. the post is well-written and thoughtfully phrased, plus op provides links to several other resources that i’ll be checking out in my free time too so i’d recommend anyone passing by here give it a read. i also want to apologize for responding to the earlier ask (now deleted) where op was like ‘how is the gerudo outfit racist’ and i was like ‘fuck all if i know’. i was talking out of my ass and failed to consider alternate perspectives. i retract that statement and replace it with this much longer and much more eloquent one.

now everything from here on is frankly quite unrelated to this ask so to the person who sent it please feel free to stop reading right here right now from high school musical as i want to talk about the previous anon message i received and some general stuff regarding fandom and none of that has anything to do with you (you are lovely and the rest of the world is a shithole).

i don’t know if the original anon who sent the ‘i like your art but the gerudo outfit racist :(’ is gonna see this but let’s take a moment to unpack it. i’m not quite sure what anon was going for with this ask. what did they want from me? did they want me to apologize for drawing and posting it? did they want me to delete the post? did they expect me to say oh thank you so much!!! sorry about the racism xd or did they want me to call up shigeru miyamoto and be like ‘hey dude your shit’s racist’ and then take down the entire nintendo corporation in one fell swoop like i was somehow implicated in either the development process or the game by pure merit of drawing fanart of it(????). this was the shit running through my head when i woke up at 6 am this morning because jetlag and opened tumblr and there was this Person sitting there trying to :( me. what’s up with the :(. why are you :(. what do you want from me.

this is where the second anon above comes in. relative to this ask, if the first anon had so much as dropped one (1) link to one (1) post explaining how the outfit might be racist (and taken out the :(, which is lame) then instead of being like ‘which reaction image should i use for this’ i would’ve been like ‘oh here’s something i didn’t know about the world and here’s how i can learn more’. ‘your art great but this racist u___u’ reads like someone trying to guilt-trip someone for shits and giggles. a B grade on a paper is useless unless your prof tells you where you went wrong and before anyone Calls Me Out i’m going to acknowledge that there is a broader issue with marginalized groups having to bear the burden of ‘explaining themselves’ to privileged people who aren’t willing to go and seek information on their own, but let’s just look at this ask for a moment.

what the fuck is this??? what am i even supposed to do with a statement that not only tells me nothing but also seems to have no clear purpose? i am sitting here drawing video game fanart in a college dorm in pennsylvania and i know like 3 things about western media because i don’t like live-action film. if you want to have a conversation please give me something to work with instead of trying to sound sad in my askbox. i can’t turn your :( into a :) because i have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about because i am not god (yet) (although i am trying to).

but let’s talk bigger. racist stereotypes are a huge fucking problem in everything the ideological west gets its hands on. i promise you i know this because i grew up in singapore where the racism was directed towards everyone including ourselves because sir dickbag raffles stuck a flag in the ground and then ruined everything. i can see how nintendo has replicated those racist stereotypes, especially given that east asian countries generally have a long history of racism towards black and brown people. singapore fucks with it too because we’re majority chinese-singaporean and majority lighter-skinned (relatively speaking). op makes a lot of excellent points. perpetuating stereotypes in popular media serves to reinforce racist ideas and further entrench discriminatory beliefs. it’s a chicken egg chicken egg thing. people are socialized into racist beliefs. they create media with racist depictions. young people consume said media and are socialized into racist beliefs. and so on. egg chicken egg chicken.

so, question: where does fanwork figure into all of this? is that 5k ganlink (is this the ship name lol idk if it’s wrong feel free to take me out with a bazooka) e-rated smutfic the egg or the chicken? who is it socializing? who’s writing it? what kind of audience is it reaching? and, more broadly speaking, what is fandom here for, and what does fandom want to achieve?

here we’re going to take a huge detour into another very popular disco horse (at least on twitter i have fuckall clue what’s going on on tumblr at all times) of the present times: the wmulti level wmarketing (wlw) discussion. it is statistically true that there are far less f/f fics on ao3 than m/m fics and f/m fics. this clearly reflects something about fandom’s habits, but the floor is divided. in fact, the floor is on fucking fire all the time. several arguments have been made over the years, of which 1) media creates less-nuanced female characters which makes them harder to connect to (mass media’s fault) and 2) everyone is a gay fetishizer (the individual’s fault) are, arguably, the most popular.

as a head ass philosophy student i’m going to pick the option no one likes and say that i think it’s a combination of all of these factors. and i’m going to step out further and say that people are so inseparable from our communities and societies that it’s impossible to tell where external influence ends and personal preference begins. what this means, more simply, is i think that both individual arguments are insufficient. media is fucking complicated and so are people so imagine when you put all of this shit together on one webpage and then you light a match. tell me, bethany, can you truly say that you like twinkies because You Like Twinkies or was it that advertisement you saw at the bus stop every day for eight years that finally got to you? are you trying to rebel against society’s fear of fatness? are you depressed? do you just like sweet things, and anyway, can anyone “just like” something?

now let’s transplant this issue of societal/self influence (a fandom friendly version of the nature/nurture argument, if you will) onto fandom. so okay, there aren’t a lot of f/f fics. what do?

some popular options i’ve seen are: 1) make angry posts/tweets about how everyone sleeps on f/f relationships in fandom and we’re all secretly lesbophobic 2) call everyone a gay fetishizer 3) write f/f fic

and so here is the other (other? i don’t remember how many problems i’ve listed lol i’m trying here guys) problem: fandom doesn’t have a single cohesive goal. like people don’t come to fandom and then sign a 5 page contract at the end of which is the company vision. everyone comes here to do their own shit. some people use fandom as a means of escape. some people are trying to spread a message (like the evangelists) or educate the youth. some people fuck around and find out.

concept: if the goal of fandom was social activism, then the argument could be made that We Should Write More f/f fics. that make sense to you? because there’s something we’re all striving towards, we can agree that we have an obligation to our community to do something. but the goal of fandom isn’t social activism, is it? maybe it is for you. but it isn’t for everyone here including the 14 year old kid in chinese orchestra and the 56 year old who just wants to read some good werewolf smut. and because we’re all different people who do different things and fandom is not and cannot be your entire life, we can’t make these prescriptive statements. we can’t tell people what to do. ‘people should write more f/f fics because there are very few right now’ that is a valid statement and observation. now will you write those fics? because you’re the only person whose fandom life you can control. because the point of fandom is we’re away from the rules and regulations of Society. because when people are told they can do what they want they will do what they want and if you tell them to do something else, it’s hard to fault them for not taking kindly to it. i’ve written 5k character studies. it’s work. not everyone wants to do that work. that’s why i do it.

detour end and now we return to the chicken egg problem. in my opinion, the shit we create in fandom isn’t the chicken or the egg. it’s the onsen egg that’s been placed on top of your ramen. it’s a product of several complex societal processes, but now it’s here you and maybe the dude sitting across from you are the only ones, by and large, that it’s going to affect. this onsen egg isn’t for the children of the world (broadcast via disney+). this onsen egg isn’t for the politicians who’ll decide on the policy of your country for the next hundred years. they’re not even going to see it because it’s a fucking onsen egg now and no one has taste anymore these days except for yourself, which is why this onsen egg is just for you. put in clearer terms, i agree with op that people in fandom often replicate societal bias in their work (people are copy machines, bethany), but i don’t think most fanfiction has the power to influence society the way that popular media can (see: marvel movies, i dunno, fucking, like, austin powers?), and to critique it with the same mindset we use to critique tony stark is to say that we earnestly think every 15k smutfic is going to be read by millions of people of all ages from across the world. which is not the case. ao3 has a thing you have to click if you’re not logged in you know where you have to agree that you’re 18 or older o read adult stuff. if you lie about that that’s your own goddamn problem. they asked.

and now, part 2, we come around to several interesting points made in the post. op mentioned that ganon is often portrayed as hypersexual (which is fascinating to me i don’t read e rated fic I See What Zelda Fandom Is Doing) or just fucks a lot in general. since i don’t go here i will take op’s word and roll with it, but i have my own word to add: so ganon fucks- what do we do? do we tell people to stop writing fics where ganon fucks? do we force them? do we tell people to write more gen rated character studies (please join me i sit here alone and i (pensive homo stare))?

we could. but we can’t make them. and we also can’t tell them where their ideas are coming from. i don’t, like, read a lot of smutfic but i sure know that shit exists because half my friends are horny as shit and can we all agree that fandom as a whole is just super fucking horny. like yes if ganon as a whole is portrayed more often in sexual situations than the other characters in the franchise, it’s a good and fair observation that Something’s Up Here. but can we really point to individual authors? the premises mentioned in the post by op are premises i’ve seen for haikyuu fanfiction. multiple times. tens of hundreds of times. what if someone’s just really fucking horny? what if they’re replicating racist ideas taught to them by mass media? can we tell? can THEY tell?

the answer is no because humans are black boxes that can’t be opened up even if we drop into the pacific ocean and instead screech helplessly at walls all our lives. the answer is these are complex issues and i don’t think prescriptive ‘Never Write Sexy Ganon’ statements or pointing fingers at random 30 year old smutfic authors will improve the situation. the answer, or at least my answer, is that we should consume media with a critical eye and be aware of potential biases perpetuated by the authors/creators, but striving towards ideological purity is impossible on principle (i promise you everyone on this planet is problematic in some way or another because this purity thing from christianity is fucking lame and also completely fake) and so we should all give that up. my personal answer is i’ve learned a lot about stereotypes about middle eastern and south asian people and i’ll take all this info with me moving forward, but i honestly and earnestly do not think me drawing link and zelda in dumbass princess jasmine outfits is going to directly correlate with an increase in racism as observed in the island city-state of singapore. i am aware now. that’s a good thing. but just like how the h*rry potter fandom has completely detached itself from its horrible creator and now fucks around in its own space doing its own thing, i think it’s fully possible to engage with flawed media because, surprise surprise, all the media in the world is flawed.

[whatapunk]

Holy butts I wrote a second chapter!! I am soooo thankful for everyone who liked or reblogged the first chapter because truly, truly, truly you gave me more motivation than you could possibly realize! 

A couple things: 

I’ve included dialogue from the s02e01 scene where Kanan and Hera have a very Han/Leia hallway argument and I definitely don’t want to take credit for such things (I only wanted to add it to help me with my flow a bit)

Right now I’m firmly trying so very hard to fit it perfectly into canon (it’s just something I like doing, idk) but eventually it might go a lil more AU, I just haven’t decided yet

This shit had me on wookieepedia searching the most random stuff, but rest assured, there is garlic in the Star Wars universe

Enjoy!

Title: Endings

Fandom: Star Wars Rebels

Relationship: Kanan Jarrus/Hera Syndulla; Kanan Jarrus/female OC

Rating: t for now, m in future chapters (I'm guessing) for language and some non-explicit intimacy

Word Count: 2446

Previous Chapters: Ch. 1

Chapter 2

Kanan sat on the step ladder leading up to the Liberator’s control panels. His presence was a silent mark of informality in the middle of the crew’s debriefing meeting with Commander Sato. The rest of the crew, plus Ahsoka, stood around the holo-console in the middle of the floor. Sato was saying something about the Ghost crew- his crew- but Kanan was barely half listening. For one, every other word that came out of Sato’s mouth was some military formality and, thus, not something that interested him in the slightest. But the main reason he wasn’t listening was that Rhia Denley’s image was still burned into his thoughts.

Seven years. When you hadn’t seen someone in this galaxy for seven years, you started to assume you never would again. At least, that’s how Kanan had felt. 

However, suddenly she was here again- she existed again, something Kanan had tried hard to convince himself wasn’t even true. It was easier to convince himself she was something he’d imagined than for him to remember her and the way she’d crushed his young heart years ago. Besides, thinking about that heartache had always made him feel guilty once Hera was in his life. Now, however, he was feeling so many things he didn’t even have room for guilt.

What he did have room for was a hefty amount of bitterness, and for more than one reason. First of all, he was already bitter before Rhia showed up; he’d hardly hidden his feelings and had become almost spiteful about how they had been sucked into a military operation. But even that wasn’t totally separate from his thoughts about Rhia.

Rhia and Kanan had become a “thing” on Gorse, very soon after Kanan had set up what passed as a life there. Their meeting was by chance, but they had run into each other briefly when he was even younger and worked with a smuggler named Janus Kasmir. It was actually Rhia who told him about low-profile jobs on Gorse then, so he wasn’t altogether surprised that she ended up there eventually too. While he wasn’t much more than a kid when they first met, when they reconnected on Gorse, he was older and far more interesting to Rhia. They quickly became infatuated with one another for the better part of four months, which was practically a lifelong commitment to Kanan. Before Hera, Rhia was the longest relationship he’d ever been in. 

Rhia, however, had bigger goals than being a bartender’s girlfriend and working as a miner on Cynda. Rhia, much like Hera, was interested in the Rebellion. She’d made this clear early on, but she didn’t try to preach to Kanan, and he’d liked that about her. However, once she’d found a connection to a group of Rebels on the Holonet, she had tried- more than once- to get him to come with her. That’s what made running into her here, of all places, all the more exasperating and awkward. He’d ended up here anyway, despite his countless protestations- and he didn’t even want to be.

Seeing Rhia again reminded him, among other things, of all of the reasons he told her he didn’t want to join the Rebellion. And that reminded him that they were all still true.

Kanan heard Sato say something about the Spectres being “invaluable,” and then suddenly Chopper burst into the meeting, much to Commander Sato and Hera’s dismay. He was going on about an emergency incoming transmission, and, frankly, Kanan welcomed the change. His bitterness with this situation, this Rebellion- this meeting had reached its peak.

***

Less than ten minutes later, Kanan’s bitterness had already gotten him into trouble, and with Hera, no less. 

After telling Chopper to play his transmission during a “secret debriefing,” Hera had scowled at him for the rest of the meeting. He’d tried to rush out and get out of her line of fire once they were dismissed, but she’d caught him in the hallway and firmly let him know he wasn’t authorized to do that.

“Authorization! Procedure! That’s what’s bothering me!” he’d raised his voice, uncaring of the people that were attempting to walk past them as they argued. 

Hera put her hands up gently, sighing at having finally gotten him to drop the passive aggressive quips about their work lately. It wasn’t hard to guess what had been bothering him, but he was a grown adult who should be able to talk to her, of all people.

“All right. Talk to me,” she said, lowering her voice. Kanan sighed and did the same.

“After this mission, I want us to go back on our own,” he said firmly. “Fighting alongside soldiers isn’t what I signed up for.” At that, Hera frowned at him and shoved him into an open doorway, pointing a gloved finger in his face.

“You seem to be forgetting these soldiers helped save your life,” she said, looking at him with those big eyes that could be both demanding and softening at the same time. After that remark, he couldn’t meet them.

“And I’m grateful,” he started, “but that doesn’t mean I want to join their little army. When you and I started together, it was ‘Rob from the Empire, give to the needy,’ a noble cause. Now we’re getting drawn into some kind of military thing! I don’t like it.” 

Somehow Hera’s voice became more serious and more earnest.

“We are fighting a bigger fight, but it’s still the right fight,” she said, all but pleading with him to understand that they’d been fighting in the name of the Rebellion all along. Kanan wasn’t having it.

“I survived one war. I’m not ready for another one,” he said, turning away from her. She grabbed his arm. “I saw what it did.”

“To the Jedi?” she asked, almost whispering. He looked back at her.

“To everyone.” He left the doorway and continued walking down the hall, hearing Hera’s exasperated sigh behind him. 

Kanan loved virtually everything about Hera, even her flaws. She was incredibly stubborn, but since he was so go-with-the-flow, it never really got in their way. In fact, it practically complimented his own personality. She would get adamant and obsessed over something, and he would follow her anywhere and do anything she asked of him. At least, that’s how things had gone for them for the past seven years, right up until the formal Rebellion had rescued him from the Grand Inquisitor. Now it was suddenly a reality of Kanan’s world that he was part of a military operation and that could only lead to one thing: war. 

Hera had been familiar with war her whole life, but not in the same way Kanan had. He’d fought in battles as a young teen alongside his master, Depa Billaba and seen the realities of it all over the galaxy. Hera’s own world was war-torn, for sure, but her role in that war was far different than Kanan’s. For the first time since he’d met her, he felt like she was incapable of understanding him.

Kanan headed to the only place he really wanted to be right now: his quarters on Ghost. He felt like meditating, if only for the quiet. He lost himself in his thoughts there for maybe an hour, and eventually his sour attitude had at least subsided. He remembered his harsh tone with Hera and his obvious instigation of Chopper in the meeting. He still didn’t care about what Sato thought, but he felt bad for making Hera look bad. Now, it felt like such a childish thing to have done.

He left his quarters and, once seeing the Ghost was still empty, he went back out into the bay. It was less busy now, as most of the cargo that littered the area earlier had been taken elsewhere by now. His eyes scanned for Hera; he knew he should apologize to her. When he didn’t see her, or any of the Spectres, he set off down one of the hallways that he believed led to the commissary. He hadn’t taken the time to get to know his way around this ship (by design) so he honestly had no clue where to start looking for her. He’d gone pretty far without seeing anything resembling a commissary and was about to turn around when an amazing aroma hit him and made his stomach growl: garlic. 

Something told him to follow the smell, which led him down a corridor that opened up to a large galley. Standing in front of a pan sizzling on the stove, as Kanan had expected, was Rhia. She looked up at him, surprised, but then smiled.

“I should have known this would attract you,” she said with a smirk, then turned her attention back to the sizzling pan, stirring the contents with a wooden spoon. 

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to get me here,” Kanan added, grabbing a seat at an empty table near the stove. “You know how I feel about your cooking.” She looked up and grinned at him.

“The same way everyone does,” she said, confidently. She left the pan and attended to a cutting board with what looked like an onion and some kind of pepper on it. 

Kanan’s stomach growled again. Rhia was an amazing cook and loved every piece of food he’d ever seen her hold. She only ever ate ration bars or drank nutritive milk when she absolutely had to. Otherwise, she kept her own stock of spices and quality ingredients and went well out of her way (and budget) to get fresh produce. Kanan’s mind drifted back to memories of watching Rhia cooking in her kitchen on Gorse. He remembered breakfast with eggs and some sort of mushroom, watching her move her hands skillfully around knives and pans and the ingredients, often wearing nothing but-

“So,” Rhia started, pulling Kanan out of his memory. “You finally joined the Rebellion.” Kanan’s brow wrinkled.

“What do you mean by finally?” he asked, already feeling himself becoming defensive. Rhia rolled her eyes.

“Nothing,” she said, slicing into her pepper, grinning.

“And no, I did not join anything,” Kanan said, putting extra emphasis on “I” and jabbing his thumb to his chest. She looked back up at him as she scraped ingredients from her cutting board to the pan. 

“That was Hera Syndulla, wasn’t it? Captain of the Ghost? You’re part of Ghost crew, right?” she pressed, confused. Kanan was more than a little surprised.

“You’ve heard of us?” Kanan asked, his vanity getting the better of him and nearly allowing a smile to creep onto his face. Rhia rolled her eyes again and laughed.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Kanan. I’ve heard of Captain Syndulla, not her first mate,” she joked, laughing more at the fall of Kanan’s expression. Then realization struck her. “Wait, are you the one we just blew up a star destroyer for?” Kanan grimaced.

“Yes, but that wasn’t my fault. I didn’t tell them to- and it was Chopper who-” Rhia held her hand up, seeing him getting defensive.

“Kanan, I don’t really know anything about what happened. I wasn’t here for it, I just heard about it. I was on a freighter headed to a rendezvous. I don’t even know who Chopper is,” she said, going back to her pan.

“He’s our droid,” Kanan said flatly. “Anyway, my crew performed the rescue. I was aboard Tarkin’s destroyer.” Rhia looked up at him again, this time a little more serious.

“What was that like?” she asked.

“Not fun.”

Rhia didn’t push the topic further. She grabbed a pan of noodles that had been sitting over to her right and mixed them into the skillet with some oil. Kanan was suddenly fascinated by the chipped edge of the table in front of him. 

Satisfied with the meal in front of her, Rhia reached into a cabinet behind her and pulled out two plates and then matched them with two forks. She set them out on the table Kanan was sitting at and then divided the noodles in half. Before she sat down, however, she went back to the cabinet and grabbed two glasses. When she set them down the table Kanan looked up at her, arching his eyebrow. She went to a backpack that sat on the floor behind the counter and pulled out a glass bottle with no markings and a familiar light brown liquid sloshing inside. She poured herself a drink, placed the mouth of the bottle over his glass and paused, looking at him, silently offering the drink. 

“I can’t think of what goes better with your dinners,” he said, and she poured. 

As soon as Kanan took a bite, his memories were triggered all over again. He was pretty sure he’d never even eaten this specific dish before, given her access to such a wide variety of ingredients. But it didn’t matter. Rhia’s meals were memorable for some sort of shared quality that bound them all together, even when they were drastically different. Not only that, but he realized how long it had been since he’d eaten, and how much longer it had been since he’d eaten something of this quality. For a few minutes they ate in silence, Kanan unavailable for any and all conversation. Eventually, Rhia spoke.

“So explain to me how you haven’t joined the Rebellion?” Kanan sighed, but the food had made him quite amenable to discussing just about anything. He did, however, take a drink before he replied.

“I didn’t know we were a cell. I didn’t know there were cells. Hera was the only one who spoke to Fulcrum and knew of the larger operation. I found out when I was… rescued,” Kanan ended quietly. Rhia could tell that being rescued and needing so much from so many, made him uncomfortable. 

“That had to be quite a shock,” she said, sensing the need for a new subject. “So you and Hera, when did you two meet?” she asked. Kanan looked at her, surprised. He could tell by the way she asked, she knew that they were together. Rhia gave him a “give me a break” look.

“Kanan, really- my ‘pilot’? Shit, I’ve seen explosions that were more subtle.” She chuckled and took another drink, emptying the glass. Kanan did the same. Rhia offered up the bottle again.

“Another?”

Kanan looked at it, hesitating. He hardly drank at all anymore, let alone like he did when they were living on Gorse. However, depending on where this conversation was going to go, Kanan felt like he would need something more than blood in his veins. 

“One more.”

[we-always-hit-our-ass]

Could I request something with Liebgott where you’re going through a tough pregnancy and how you deal with it together please

Author’s Note: Ohohoho- This request right here has me imagining things, like oh my gosh I was so hyped to write this. But oh dear, I’m actually... Really not sure about this one???? Idk why- I still hope you enjoy, lovely anon!

Words: 5.0k (eye-)

Disclaimers: Swearingggg also I made it Modern!AU because I feel like it’s easier to write than pregnancy in the mid-to-late 40s. There’s also just the teenist hint of angst so yeah-

Description: As happy as you and Joe were when you found out you were pregnant, you knew it was going to be difficult--who were you kidding? With stress high enough, one day the two of you broke out into an argument. However in the end, you and Joe knew that no matter what--the both of you will get through this together.

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Taglist:  @deldontplay​, @thatsonefishyboi​,@noneofurbusinez​, @meteora-fc​, @gutsandgloryhere​, @hihosilvers​, @rayleighshughes​, @floydtab​, @wexhappyxfew​, @sherlollydramoine​, @meganthesunflower​, @3milesup​, @jamie506101​, @sunflowerchuck​, @softlieb​, @k-websters​, @punkgeekchic​, @speirs-crazy-ass​, @hellitwasyoufirstsergeant​, @runtdrummer​, @fromtheoldtimes​​, @liebegott​

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The powerful rush of glee and joy washing over you that one fateful day was unforgettable, to say the least. Holding the pregnancy test in your fingers brought a certain kind of happiness to your whole entire being. 

You and Joe had always wanted children, with your husband going on his cute rambles about how he wants to spend the rest of his life with you--with a few or more children along the way. The both of you always seemed to talk about the aspect of having children, it excited you to whole other levels and seeing Joe’s warm brown eyes light up would make it all worth it. 

He would always grasp your hands in his, his mouth running a thousand miles a minute when the topic of children came up. The small action bringing a genuine smile across your face as you two discuss more about what it’d be like. The name, whether it’d be a boy or a girl, the new room, clothing, and oh so much more. 

Your mind was always buzzing during those moments, scene after scene of your new life flashed between your head before a new one replaced the previous one.

Of course you noticed signs, like your period not coming up or tiny bits of nausea here and there. It’d been two and a half weeks since you and Joe had done things in the bedroom and when the signs kept on happening you called your mom. Every time you said another one of the things happening to you, the first thing that came to her mind was pregnancy. 

Your mom instantly gave you all sorts of advice, telling you the do’s and don’ts--which you immediately took note of. With the call now ended, you decided to head over to a pharmacy and buy a few different brands of tests.

So when you peered at the test in the restroom, turning it over with your dainty fingers shaking slightly--you were more than antsy for the result. The anticipation was real and you debated on taking your time or immediately looking at the test to figure out the results faster. Not willing to wait, you chose the latter and you were instantly glad that you did. How two lines changed your life, the idea of it was thrilling. Something so ordinary when taken into the right circumstances truly can be remarkable. 

Your hands were shaking uncontrollably from excitement. They almost threatened to drop the test you held carefully in your fingers and you raised two of your hands to hold it in your grasp. You then tighten your grip on it, your bright (E/C) widening larger than you can ever imagine. 

Sitting there for what felt like forever, you brought your right hand to cover your mouth from squealing loudly because of sheer and utter thrill and happiness. You found yourself doing a little sort of dance of celebration, positive pregnancy test still in hand.

Ecstatic, you rushed to make yourself presentable and got up. You felt like you could’ve almost broke down the wooden bathroom door when you swiftly tried to get to your husband.

Attempting to not trip over your feet as you quickly padded over the hardwood floor of your spacious home, you found Joe in the dining room, tinkering with a few knick-knacks he found in a nearby store. With your breath hitching as you trailed your gaze over your husband’s features and admiring him, you almost forget the test you held in your hand. It was only when Joe cleared his throat did you remember.

“Do ya need anythin’, darlin’?”

His signature voice and accent snapping you out of your stupor and you nodded your head in response. To say Joe was curious about why you seemed to be speeding trying to get with him was an understatement. He noticed how you were out of breath and how you were clutching something in your hands, however it was obscured by the angle. He leaned to the side to try to catch a glimpse of what it is, but to no avail. 

He stood up to walk towards you and as the wooden chair screeched on the floor but with the first step that he took he was stopped by your voice.

“I’m pregnant! I’m pregnant, Joe, we’re having a baby.”

Those words hit him like a dozen trucks, but in a very good way. Slowly his gaping jaw and mouth bloomed into a wide grin and he bounced towards you like no tomorrow, his arms hooking around your arms to spin you in a circle. Giggles erupted from your mouth as he gently put you down and you brought your hand up to show him the positive test.

With his warm honey eyes widening and his smile only getting bigger by the second. His orbs seemed to yell ‘we did it, we’re having a baby, I can’t wait to spend my life with you two!’ and you could see his brown hair bouncing with each energetic step he took around the area. The strands falling around his face, framing it perfectly.

“(Y/N)--Holy shit, can you imagine? We’re goin’ to be parents!” He had excitedly said, his hands running through his full head of hair, that beautiful beam of his never leaving his lips for even a second. 

He could’ve bursted through the roof by this point, Joe really was excited and thrilled about the idea of having a family with you.

“I’m goin’ to be a dad,” pointing at himself then grasping your shoulders to land a swift kiss on your cheek, “and you’re goin’ to be a mom!”

“Yeah, Joe, that’s generally how it works.” You teasingly said, the test still clenched between your hand. You slightly chuckled but he just gave you a cheeky grin in return.

Your husband was just so pumped on adrenaline and internally squealing to mash together a clever remark like usual. You offered the test to him, and he took it up with eager fingers, and straight away he ogled the two lines displayed there. His beautiful brown eyes glancing between the test and your bright face. 

You began, your eyes glancing at your stomach, “I just can’t believ-”

“That we’re finally going to be parents? Me neither.” 

Your husband remarked, completing the sentence for you. He gingerly placed the test on the dining room table, the hollow clack of it echoing in the room.

You nodded enthusiastically, you felt tears of joy welling up in your (E/C) eyes and Joe walked over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist so he could pull you closer. Separating for a while, the two of you looked at your belly, the possibility of a newer and better future inside of you. It hit a chord within your being, how you were now responsible for the life of another. 

Pushing the thoughts away, you gazed up and stood on your tippy-toes to press a kiss on your husbands lips as you pulled away, Joe snapped his hands to bring your lips to his again. Melting into his hold, you could feel his hand grasping your head cautiously. The sunlight is filtering through the open curtains, giving the room an umber glow. 

This was exactly how you pictured you breaking the news to Joe would look like. And you treasured this moment, keeping it snug in your mind to look back upon. Closing your eyes, Joe rested his hand on your abdomen and you raised your hand to lay it over his.

---------

The first trimester of your pregnancy was a living hell. Of course you knew about the symptoms and all, your mom or any of your friends wouldn’t stop talking about it. Even when you weren’t experiencing it yet, the stories the people around you recalled gave you overwhelming amounts of anxiety. 

So you did as much research, putting in many hours to look at websites and read books about what will happen during pregnancy--but nothing really did anything to prepare you when they actually occurred.

There was the morning sickness and despite its name, it happened all throughout the day. Either you’d wake up feeling like your head was banged with rocks and pans or you’d go to bed feeling your stomach was going to burst open. It was disorienting and the world kept on spinning you even though when it was in fact still. Waves of dizziness would hit you and Joe would find you heaving everything in your system into the toilet bowl.

Whether it’d be 2 A.M., in the morning or afternoon, or in the late evening--you found yourself kneeling on the cool tile floors as Joe soothingly ran his hand up and down your feverish back. The sickness continued for days on end and on the occasions you didn’t throw up or feel incredibly dizzy, you’d just lay in bed all day--thankful for finally having a break. 

Joe was always there to comfort you and when your cravings hit the roof, he’d always try his best to comfort you and provide you with anything you needed. Every single time, Joe made you happy and you made him too in return. Relishing in the loving moments you shared together, the tough symptoms of pregnancy seemed to be a bit easier to handle when he was around. It was like the heavy baggage on your back was lightened, and it all became more bearable.

You also had to go to the restroom more and more, and you’d stumble in the dead of night heading there. Mood swings were another key factor of making you grouchy, first you’d be happy and with a snap you’d be crying or frustrated. You were easily annoyed then when you’d lash out at Joe, you’d immediately apologize profusely. 

Joe reassured you that it was always alright, and the two of you would put it in the past. Of course Joe understood and never took your statements personally, but he too snapped one day. 

Rolling your eyes that one time didn’t help that moment. Joe had just come back from work, an exasperated sigh leaving his mouth as he frustratedly ran his hands through his thick chestnut hair. Standing near the doorway you huffed, you did feel a bit upset that morning and while you were fine for most of the day--the negative feeling seemed to find its way back. You didn’t notice how tense your husband was, and while obviously stressed, Joe didn’t seem to voice it like he usually did. Still standing there with nothing to do, Joe finally took notice.

With a gruff he dropped his things near the floor as he took off his shoes. In a clearly upset tone, he began to talk.

“What’s your problem?”

“Oh you know… Just being pregnant.” You sarcastically said, obviously taking his different attitude and demeanor lightly.

“No, (Y/N), I’m serious.”

Sighing, you sat down on the big sofa in your living room. The small bump you had then still growing but not getting in the way.

“It’s the mood swings, Joe. God I fucking hate them so much. And just everything else. I’m always so tired, I haven’t been able to eat and when I do eat, I end up barfing it all out like some dispense-”

“Love, I’m tired too, but can you just try to tone it down a bit.” He sounded so nonchalant then, and it tore your insides. In your bitter mood, you took it to heart. Obviously if you had a clear head, then maybe you wouldn’t have acted so recklessly and impulsively then.

“Wow, why didn’t I think of that? It’s way easier said than done, Joe.” Crossing your arms, you held a slightly indignant look in your (E/C) eyes. It was really getting to you, and it seemed to be getting to your husband too. 

Scoffing and crossing his arms like you, he hastily turned to you, “I was tryna help, no need to be so fuckin’ sarcastic. I’m havin’ just a hard time as you ar--”

Something inside you just broke, and all you wanted to do was to just yell at him. Looking back at it, you regretted what you had said to him. Thinking that if you just took a breather and ignored him instead of yelling perhaps it wouldn’t have escalated as fast as it did. You would’ve screamed at your past self and Joseph to just break it up, but what was done was done.

“Well, you’re not the one that’s pregnant.” You firmly said then and then that’s when it all went downhill. 

“And because of that I don’t have the right to be stressed as well? I don’t get why you’re acting so stuck up. Calm down, will you?”

He really did have the audacity to ask you to ‘calm down’, the utter nerve-- Both of you were wound up after weeks of being pressed down by the stress and responsibilities of being future parents. You loved being pregnant, you were so glad and happy when you first found out. While it was sunshine and rainbows for the most part, some days were less than desirable. These happened to be one of those days.

Like a tight coil waiting to break, this was the breaking point for you at that moment.

“Calm down? I have to carry our baby for nine months, how about you try doing that, huh?”

“Can’t you see the I’m trying my best, maybe if you’d appreciate it more than maybe I wouldn’t be here wasting my time.” Joe responded, his mouth downturned in a sour scowl.

Rolling your eyes once again, you walked towards him, “Jesus Christ, Joe. are you serious? You’re being so fucking petty.”

You got up, your hands flying in the air. More than fired up, you stood your ground as you glared at your husband. His ordinarily warm and consoling eyes were filled with fury, his shoulders standing tall as his chest heaved up and down.

“Get a grip, (Y/N), do you even hear yourself right now? If I knew that you were going to be like this, then maybe I wouldn’t have wanted you pregnant!”

His words hit you deep, cutting through the rage and anger that had built up. Instantaneously, Joe’s orbs had widened and he wished that he hadn’t uttered a single thing when he saw your hurt expression. Staggering back you sat back down at the couch, a look of disbelief and sadness whirling in your eyes. The nausea you felt was stronger than any sickness you had experienced in the last few weeks, and you sat still in surprise and shock--the words still resonating within you.

They sounded so true… And you couldn’t but wonder if they came from a place of honesty.

Joe almost covered his mouth then too, wishing to take those words back. The ire he expressed melted away like ice on a hot day and he made his way towards you with fast strides. Still in denial about what happened, your anger had also disappeared and while hurt you couldn’t bring yourself to push Joe away. 

You couldn’t even bring yourself to feel angry as you felt the familiar warmth of Joe’s arm wrapping around your silent figure. With all the previous vexation seething around just mere minutes ago, it was a miracle that you seemed to calm down so swiftly.

“Oh fuck, (Y/N)-- I didn’t mean it, really! I just… God, I was so insensitive.”

“Joe--”

“I am so fuckin’ sorry, how can you even forgive me at this point? Y’know what? You deserve every right to be angry, Jesus, I don’t know what came over me--” He resumed rambling, genuine apologies spilling over his lips like a waterfall.

“Joe, please--”

His brows were furrowed and you could hear his heart thumping with him pressed so closely against you. Trying to get his attention by tugging on his shirt, he was far too busy spouting ‘sorries’ and you smiled kindly at him before speaking just a tad firmer.

“No, I need to apologize, I was being a huge dick--”

“Please, Joe. Just… Stop.”

Clearing his throat just a bit, he stared at you with wide doe eyes. His back then stood straighter like a fresh candle wick, his attention all put on you.

“Yes, love...?” Finally giving in, he quieted down and replied. It was quiet--his voice. It was so soft and not at all like the fiery and passionate Joe you loved, this tender and intimate side of him hidden so well from the world only for you to see.

The palms of your hands rubbed your raw eyes trying to prevent tears from spilling out from them. Hiccuping and feeling your chest becoming heavy, you dove into the deep pool of his amorous embrace, it immediately brought you a consolation that made your heart sing. The brunet man cooed in your ear, reassuring you and softly goading you to tell him your worries without even having to speak a syllable.

“I’m just so stressed. I thought I was all this and all that when in reality, I’m not. And all of these symptoms, Joe, they’re getting to me. The first few weeks were fine, I expected that. But then it just kept on going and it’s all so exhausting… I just thought that… I’d be strong enough to take it.” 

Nodding solemnly at your statement, Joe tucked your hair behind your ears, giving him a clear view of your face. He understood your words, and he let it sink deep within him. Joe was a sympathetic guy, even if he doesn’t admit sometimes. So he got up from the couch, telling you to wait for a moment. 

Joe left the room, his footsteps growing quieter and the ticking of the wall clock was all that accompanied you. He returned, the big and fluffy comforter that occupied your bed in his arms. He laid it over your back, the soft material enveloping you and him as the two of you got under it. 

Joe settled in, his hand placed flush against your baby bump, “You’re strong, (Y/N). You’re stronger than anyone I’ve ever met.” 

You retaliated, “But you’re a soldier, Joe! I’m just… Me.”

“Exactly! You’re (Y/N)--the same woman I fell in love with, the same woman that can get through any obstacle, the same woman who I want to spend my entire life with.” The hurtful words he had said barely had an effect on you now, and your gleaming grin made Joe reciprocate the action.

“We can get through this, I know we can. I’ll be here for you all the way. It’ll all be worth it, (Y/N), believe me.” Scooping up your hand in his, he cradled it compassionately.

“You really think that?” Voice still slightly quavering, you hopefully looked up at Joe as you inquired him.

“Of course I do. What kind of husband would I be if I didn’t?”

Focusing your (E/C) orbs at his warm sepia ones, it seemed as if you two had silently forgiven each other. You two are both willing to easily put it all behind you, for the sake of your baby and your relationship. Letting go of the words he had just spoken, you compassionately wrapped your arms around him, Joe returning the favor.

You two will be alright, you kept thinking. You two will be alright.

---------

In a way, that argument you had with Joe made your relationship stronger and harder to crumble. When in face with difficult tasks, the both of you would come help the other and continue to face the obstacle side by side. The symptoms still pursued and hung around, but so did Joe. He continued to take care of you, always promising to get you what you need. Joe really was sweet, and you could daydream for hours about just how good of a father he’ll be.

The mood swings you had were showing up less frequently but the cravings skyrocketed. You really didn’t want to bother him by asking but he had insisted constantly. Of course it was no surprise that he constantly brought Hershey bars, he’d show that same cheeky smirk as he’d pull out a few bars from behind his back.

If you were tired, for example, those sleepless nights being the bane of your existence--your husband would lay you gently on his lap while running his long fingers through your scalp. Countless nights were spent tossing and turning and no matter what position you laid in, you couldn’t sleep. Sighs of content would leave your lips and you would melt like butter right then and there. 

Other nights when you couldn’t even get a single blink of sleep, Joe would tell you fun little stories about his friends, sometimes obscure subjects. He talked about his passion for being a barber and Joe never failed to make it all sound so interesting.

Though undoubtedly, your favorite talks when you couldn’t seem to rest were the talks when he gushed about his future with you. He’d make up all these scenarios and he just seemed so truly happy when he went on and on about the endless possibilities. 

Joe talked about how you two would decorate the room, asking you ever so often what you would like to put in it. Then he’d go on about the clothes you’d buy for your child, and all the seemingly regular things were turned into something magical.

Pausing, he would glance down at you with a sheepish laugh, “God, i’m bein’ sappy, aren’t I?”

“Joseph D. Liebgott, I find it very adorable that you’re being sappy right now.”

“Thank goodness, as I was sayin’--”

You lay there starry-eyed, both your hands laying on top of your stomach as his voice would relax your stiff muscles. Even after going on for hours, he still had more to say but by then you’d already have fallen asleep.

Joe would look down, pausing for a moment and his eyes would soften as he took in your dozing being. Sparing one last chaste kiss on your lips, he whispers a ‘good night’ before spooning you comfortably until the morning comes.

The morning sickness had faded away and was growing sparse as your pregnancy continued and you’d never been more glad. They did show up here and there a few times, but not at all like the constant waves of dizziness and vomiting that you had during the first few weeks. Joe comforted you throughout the whole thing, he even offered to set up a movie night every time you became upset just so he could cheer you up.

Sitting down, you recalled that moment 4 months ago, where you had revealed to your husband that you were pregnant. The bump was more prominent, stretching your shirts. You carefully plopped yourself on the sofa, taking attentive notice of your belly. A sigh released your lips and every so often you casted your eyes downwards. While you were never a really reckless person in the first place, you were noticeably way more cautious than you used to be. How could you not? You were now carrying a baby.

The days quickly went by and before you knew it, here you were. 

“Have you thought of a name yet, (Y/N)?” Your husband asked you from across the room, his voice raised louder as to catch your attention because of the distance.

“They’re not even born yet, you really are impatient aren’t you?” Playfully scoffing at Joe’s words, you said and questioned, one eyebrow raising up teasingly at the brunet man. 

Your hands glided over your stomach, the slight bump then not even comparing to the baby bump you had now. Your eyes softened when you ran your palms on your stomach, your eyelids lowering as you gently caressed it. You truly did feel like the luckiest woman in the world at that short moment in your home.

“I can’t help it, okay! It’s a baby, our baby.” Joe had quickly replied, his leg bouncing up and down at the speed of light. The ‘our’ was enunciated, sending a warm and welcoming feeling to your chest.  

“Well, I was thinking about ‘Gabriel’. Y’know--like the angel.” You answered, your hands as your deft fingers still absentmindedly caressing your stomach as you gazed upon the back-turned head of your husband.

“Gabriel… Gabriel,” your husband repeated, testing it out on his tongue. After a few more attempts he turns to meet your stare, a pondering expression ingrained on his face. “I like that name; Gabriel…” He trailed off once again before giving you an electrified smile which lit up the whole room.

Turning to your direction once again Joe asked, “Well what happens if it’s a girl?”

Biting down at your bottom lip at the thought, you pondered hard. What would you name her? Digging deep into the back of your mind, you tried to figure out which name caught your attention. Letting your mind run, you were stopped in your tracks when Joe softly called out your name.

“What about ‘Celine’?” Joe softly inquired and the corners of your lips turned upward at the name.

“Celine and Gabriel, don’t those two sound pretty?”

“When our baby is born, (Y/N), I can see where they’ll got their beauty from.” 

With your cheeks warming up, you turned away while grinning as Joe smiled. Looking at the time, you cast a glance at the calendar on the wall. The bright red letters in Joe’s handwriting sprawled out on a square, stating ‘Doctor’s Appointment’. Joe even went to put it a little more effort and drew a simple baby face. 

Getting on your feet slowly, your husband stretched out his arms to grab yours to instantly ensure your stability. The drive to the hospital was filled with questions as Joe repeatedly wanted to ask you about how you’ve been feeling. It was the usual cravings, cramps, and sickness, you had told him as he nodded in understanding.

The two of you made sure to constantly visit the doctor’s, getting weekly updates about your pregnancy really was exciting. You would fiddle with the hem of your top, nervously chewing at your lip. Joe held your hand comfortably, sometimes reaching to put loose strands of hair between your ears. Your nerves never settled though and they only went haywire when the doctor had called your names. 

Waiting in the bright white room made your mind race and shut down at the same time. Occasionally you would space out, your eyes focusing on nothing really peculiar as your mind muffled any sounds around you. The doctor came in, introducing himself and explaining the ultrasound process. There he took you to a different room where you saw the ultrasound machine and chair where you’d lie on, you quickly grabbed Joe’s hand. 

Squeezing back, he leaned down slightly to give you a brief peck on the top of your head.

Listening to the doctor, you laid back on the examination table and pulled up your top to reveal the four month baby bump. The process was quick and quite obviously painless, the entire procedure only taking about 30 minutes. The ultrasound showing up on the computer right beside you made you excited to see the results. 

Fixing yourself, the doctor had told you to wait in the room as they examined the results. Joe sitting beside you, he lifted his arm and ushered you close to his side and he closed it around you--pulling you in.

The door to the room opened and there revealed your doctor with a professional yet welcoming grin on her face.

“Well, we got the results back from the ultrasound, I hope I didn’t keep you waiting.” She had said, taking a seat next to you. The words ‘results’ and ‘ultrasounds’ made your heart do flips and somersaults, Joe next to you also giving you a knowing glance.

“Starting things off, your baby is very healthy and we didn’t pick up any complications. The heart rate is good and we see no physical abnormalities whatsoever.”

Grinning with each word, you excitedly looked to Joe, who was already looking your way. The doctor’s nimble fingers dashed on the keyboard, showing you the black and white images of the baby inside of you. Your eyebrows were raised high on your face and you knew that your smile was just as big as Joe’s. Tightening your hold on his hand, you waited patiently for the big reveal. Joe was ahead of you though, and decided to ask the doctor himself.

“That’s amazing. But--if you don’t mind answering, what’s the gender?” The question hung up in the air and the doctor nodded in acknowledgement, her eyes gleaming with happiness and recognition.

You were bouncing your leg up and down, and the time span of a few seconds you anxiously bit down on the tips of your nails. Joe was obviously antsy too, his body on the edge of his seat as you were on the edge of the examination table. Leaning forward in excitement, you drummed your fingers against your thigh.

“Ah yes, of course, well, I’m very happy to announce that you two are the proud parents of a beautiful, healthy boy. Congratulations!”

Blood was rushing through your ears and it wasn’t until your husband reacted did you ever move too. Eyes growing wide, you practically squealed in excitement, your whole form bouncing up and down the examination table as you looked at your husband. The two of you were exuberant, the doctor letting out a small smile just by looking at how absolutely joyous you two were. 

Turning each other’s forms to each other, Joe’s hands gripped your upper arms while leaning in. He leaned forward to press his forehead against yours like he always did. You felt your mind creating pictures of your future life with Joe and your baby, flashing them like a slideshow.

You knew Joe never really let out tears, but you could seem some welling up in his eyes. 

Casting a downwards glance at your stomach and setting his hands there, Joe cooed affectionately, “Hello Gabriel, me and your mama love you so much...”

Removing his hands from your belly, he brought them upwards to cup your face. Your eyes met and your heart raced faster as his next words. He beamed uncontrollably as his mouth opened, his eyes threatening to burst with tears as yours was the same.

“See, darlin’? I told you we could get through this. I’ll always be here for you, (Y/N). Forever and always.”

There in that moment, it was just you three. You, Joe, and your beautiful baby boy and you couldn’t imagine trading away this moment for even the entire world.

---------

Author’s Note: Oh jeez, I hope I didn’t bore you with this fic! I guess I also changed some things, so ahh I’m sorry if it’s not what you imagined. If I made a few mistakes with either writing or portrayal, I apologize for that. But thank you all for reading, have a great day, my loves! <3

[purplesurveys]

1240

Are you better at cooking dinners or making cakes/biscuits/sweets?  I can’t make any dish. I wonder when I’ll get my ass up and start learning...

Have you ever cut someone else’s hair?  I wouldn’t dare; I have no skills in that department at all.

Who was the last guest in your house and what were they staying for?  Angela and Hans came over so we can watch Sowoozoo. 

How many long term relationships have you been in?  One.

Do you sleep with all the lights out, or do you leave a lamp or even the television on?  My default is lights out, but sometimes I’ll fall asleep with my night lamp still on and that’s fine too.

Who is one person you have forgiven, but still have not “forgotten” what they have done?  I don’t really do forgiving.

Are you a fan of Lana Del Rey?  No. I’ve tried listening to her songs but I find them too slow for my liking.

Do you know your blood type?  It’s O but I keep forgetting what specific type.

Do you know your mother’s birthday?  Yes.

Have you got your period at the moment?  It’s on its last few days.

Have you ever been pregnant?  Nopes.

How old were you when you first went on a plane?  I was around 10 or 11, can’t remember exactly. But it was in 2009 and we headed to Boracay.

Have you ever had to take out a loan for anything?  No. OMG, adult activity I don’t quite understand just yet hfdhfkdjfhdf.

Are both of your blood parents still in your life?  Yeah they’re both grumbling right now just outside of my room because the power went out lmfao.

When was the last time you went apple picking?  I’ve never done this. Apples don’t grow here.

Someone asked you what you wanted, what would you say?  My pay for the last two weeks haha, but that’s not coming until Friday.

Have you ever been drunk at school or work?  No, I wouldn’t dare. I’m pretty unpredictable when I get drunk, so I’d rather stay safe haha. I’ve worked while tipsy, but it had been outside of work hours.

How many bedrooms are in your house?  4. One for each kid, then my parents’.

Are you smart about computers?  Nah.

Have you ever played Just Dance for Wii?  We didn’t have the game on our Wii, but I’ve played Just Dance before, just at other peoples’ houses.

Do you own a Xbox 360?  We were a Playstation household.

Would you ever do a sex tape for a million dollars?  Erm, sure, whatever.

So, do you need a nap?  I think I should be taking one for the sake of my health, but I won’t.

What would you rather be doing?  I stumbled upon a Facebook post of this newly-opened store in Greenhills that exclusively sells photocards and I wanna head the fuck over there rn with Angela. That store concept is practically unheard of so it’s a big deal and I wanna go there as I’m 100% sure the BTS ones would sell out pretty fast. But they heightened the stupid COVID protocols yet again and we have to stay at home, so there’s that.

What sport are you the best at?  Table tennis.

Do you have a little sister? What’s her name?  Yeah but she’s turning 21 this year, so little wouldn’t be accurate anymore. We call her Nina at home but everyone else calls her by her full first name, Janina.

Do you complain a lot?  I do complain a lot but I also do the thing that is causing the complaint right after so I can shut myself up lmao.

Would you rather go to an authentic haunted house or an ancient temple?  Both sound fun but I’ll probably take the temple. Yay for learning something new about culture!!

Do you like fruity or minty gum?  I don’t mind flavor when it comes to gum because they fade out anyway.

Are you looking forward to any day of this month?  My company set another mental health break day this upcoming August 27th, so I’ll be thinking about that day throughout the month.

Have you ever gotten detention?  We don’t have detention.

Is there a traumatic event that you’ve experienced that’s changed your life?  Sure.

Do you buy a majority of your clothes from a certain store, or do you just pick out items of clothing you could see yourself wearing, not caring about the store it came from? The latter. < Same. I can be brand-conscious sometimes, but generally if I find something cute, regardless from where I found it, I’d grab it.

Have any of the artists you’re fond of released new albums recently?  Technically yeah. It was a single album. 

Would you ever keep your favorite animal as a pet?  I already have two of them.

Ever cried so much you threw up?  Possibly.

Who is your best guy friend? Hans.

What do you two do when you hang out?  We usually eat out and have a drink or two.

What is a movie that you thought you would hate but you ended up loving?  Spotlight, just because it looked boring at first glance. It turned out to be very riveting and the screenplay was fascinating as well.

Do you even like horror movies?  Yes, but they’re best watched with other people.

Do you live in the country?  Nopes.

What is your favorite accent?  I don’t have one.

Have you ever had a boyfriend your parents didn’t like?  No.

Do you drink Pepsi or Coke?  I had the chance to try out Pepsi when we went to Taco Bell two weeks ago - it was my first time to have it and it was...actually pretty good??? The soda-hater in me was scandalized HAHAHA but it was good!!! I think I prefer Pepsi now.

What do you plan to do on your 21st birthday?  My 21st birthday started out terribly because Gabie’s family didn’t want her to hang out with me on a Sunday (the day my birthday fell on), so we were in an argument the whole day. Angela saved the day when she planned out an impromptu dinner + arcade date for me, and that was the only good part of the day, really. I’d rather forget the rest of it.

Do you have any person in your family with an addiction to beer?  I don’t think so.

Do you take a lot of pictures?  I’m starting to, now.

What kind of face wash do you use?  Good ol’ water.

Does drama always seem to follow you?  Not these days.

Does anybody in your family race?  Nope.

Are you closer to your mom or dad?  Dad, I guess. But I wouldn’t particularly call myself ‘close’ with either.

How much money did you used to get from the ”tooth fairy?”  I never received money from them.

How long do you want to live with your parents?  Maybe up until my mid-20s? Late-20s at the latest. I’m not exactly in the position to move out yet. The money I make at the moment would probably just be enough to cover rent, and just rent. I’d end up starving to death hahaha.

Do you have a laptop or desktop?  Laptop.

Do you like your parents?  Sure.

Do you secretly like someone?  I don’t.

Would you ever date your best male friend?  No. I also wouldn’t do that to Angela.

What are you currently listening to?  Moon by Jin! Such a comfort song.

Do you want to be single?  Yes.

Did you go out or stay in last night?  I stayed in and was knocked out pretty early since I had been up since 1 AM.

Have you pretended to like someone?  No. I don’t see why I would have to that.

How is your heart lately?  Just filled with nothing but Bangtan at this point haha. It’s doing well!

Are you wearing socks?  No. Socks bother me for the most part; they make my feet feel a bit suffocated.

What do people call you?  Robyn.

Do you get stressed out easily?  Yeah, I’m quite the overthinker.

Have you ever been taken to the emergency room in an ambulance?  No, I’ve never actually been inside an ambulance, whether it came for me or for another person.

What is wrong with you right now?  I should probably cut back on the vaping, for one.

Do you own something from Hot Topic?  No.

Would you rather sleep with someone else or alone?  It’s hard for me to sleep with someone else. Even when I had been in a relationship, I usually only got to fall asleep an hour or so after my partner already dozed off.

Do you still talk to the person you last made out with?  No, I cut ties at the start of the year and have been substantially better since then.

Have you ever seen your best friend cry?  I honestly don’t think so. I’m the bigger crybaby between us.

Did you get any compliments today?  My mom thanked me for covering for Cooper’s shots today since they ended up being quite costly.

Have you ever gone to a beach?  Yes, it’s one of my absolute favorite places to be.

What would you say if someone asked you to get high right now?  Pass up on the offer.

Do you believe that everything happens for a reason?  Yes.

Have you ever done volunteer work just because you wanted to?  I’ve never had the ample time to, so no. I’ve always wanted to volunteer at an animal shelter, though.

Do you have long nails?  They’re not dramatically long, but they have started to grow out.

Do you like the gender you are? I don't like or dislike it, honestly. I'm just neutral. < Same.

Do you generally look nice in photos?  I think this is the case these days, yeah. I’ve started feeling more confident and I think it’s able to translate in photos.

Have you ever had a stick insect as a pet?  No.

What colour are your father’s eyes?  Dark brown.

If I handed you a concert ticket right now, who would you want to be the performer?  BTS DUH

Name three facts about your family?  I come from a family of lawyers; many of us are big history buffs; and many are also fantastic cooks so I don’t know where that talent could have possibly gone when it come to my generation hah.

Would you ever get into a long distance relationship?  If I’ve reached a certain level of investment in the relationship, I could probably handle it. 

What’s the most thoughtful present you’ve ever received?  A Punk shirt and Petals For Armor physical CD from Andi this last Christmas.

What’s your favorite hot beverage? Hot chocolate. < Yessssss!

Did you ever play an instrument? If so what?  I don’t.

Would you rather carve pumpkins or wrap presents?  Carving pumpkins sounds fun, especially since I haven’t tried it before.

Do you think you’re important?  Idk. I don’t really like drawing attention to myself though, so that could probably answer your question.

What’s the best compliment you’ve ever received?  Andi wrote a letter for me to accompany the aforementioned Christmas gifts they gave, and it remains to be my favorite letter I’ve received. They essentially reminded and affirmed me that I’m stronger than I think I am, and that I’ve been through a lot and have grown a lot, and that that growth is seen by people around me.

Have you been diagnosed with any mental disorders?  No.

Have you ever moved to another state or country? If so, how did it feel to be new?  Just to different cities, but considering how tiny my country is, the move is quite insignificant lol.

Do you know how to properly eat food with chopsticks?  I’m 100% sure I don’t know how to properly hold chopsticks, but I have my own way and it works lol. Fake it til you make it.

Are you more of a leader or a follower? Definitely a follower, but I can step up in certain situations. < Same. I don’t mind leading, especially considering the control freak I can be lolol.

What was the first thing you ate today?  I haven’t eaten anything today. I skipped breakfast since I brought Cooper to the vet, and by the time I got back the dining table had already been cleared. It’s fine though, I don’t feel too hungry.

If you could spend the day, doing absolutely anything, with anyone, anywhere, what would it be like?  I’d be with Angela, Reena, and Hans at that insane new photocard store I talked about earlier. IDEALLY, we’d probably pick up a photocard or two if the ones we want aren’t sold out yet (lol a rarity), then we’d have some nachos and stuff right after and just talk about all things Bangtan lol with Hans cracking us up the whole time since he is just naturally hilarious.

If I were to ask you how you are doing, and you were only able to answer completely honestly, what would come out?  Content. Happy. I feel warm and loved and surrounded by the best people.

What is the one thing that you have been avoiding that you should do?  Learning how to cook is one.

Is there anything that you wish you could take back?  Not really.

What, in your mind, could make you truly happy?  Being in the purple ocean with my best friends.

If you could change one conversation in your life, what would you say differently? Would it have REALLY made any difference?  A part of me wishes my final face-to-face conversation with Gabie had been a more solid closure, just so we could finally put a hard stop to that chapter. But at that time I thought we would continue talking, so there had still been some stuff lingering in the air when we called it a day and parted ways. So in a sense we never really got closure when I finally cut ties, which the ESTJ in me remains to be nagged by, but I try not to be bothered by it anymore considering how much better I am doing right now. We didn’t know the future at the time, so it’s okay the way things turned out, ultimately.

When is the next time you’ll change your hairstyle? Will you color it?  I have no clue. It’s not really a priority.

Do people normally say you’re a fast typist, or are you rather slow?  I’m fast.

Have you ever been considered the ‘smartest person in school?’  Nah.

How many drugs are in your system?  Just caffeine.

What’s on your schedule for tomorrow? Werkwerkwerkwerk.

Do you currently have any bite marks/hickeys on your body?  Nopes.

Do you call anyone baby?  I don’t.

What’s your current mood?  I’m prety neutral. I wish I could be out right now, but stupid Covid and stupid quarantine. But I don’t really mind staying at home, either, so. I’m just so-so.

Do you think you are a good person?  I hope so.

What were you doing before filling out this survey?  I watched Sunday mass with my family.

How late did you stay up last night?  Around midnight.

When was the last time you cried really hard?  I cried just a few days ago because period hormones, but the last time I cried hard? I’m not sure. April maybe?

Is your hair longer than your shoulders?  LOL yes it’s soooooooo long already.

[jtrbluv]

tag game !

tagged by the lovely linh @latetaektalk ,, thank u soso much! this was so fun omg

tagging: @allurain @koushiningg @dreamystuffers @jinpanman @dulce-pjm @suhdays @pjmsdior @bangtans-peaceful-piegon @sugacouture

1. what fandoms have you written for (but do not currently)?

um i didn't rly write for any fandoms when i was younger, but i knew my 12yo self was probably conjuring harry potter headcanons in my head D:

2. what fandoms are you currently writing for?

for now, and for a long time, i've been writing for bts. i've like always been a multi from the moment i got into kpop but i've never actually fleshed out any of the wips i had for any other groups LMFAO. honorable mentions are got7, skz, haikyuu yup

3. how long have you been writing?

a longggg time, i think. i enjoyed writing fiction as a kid a lot. most of it would be like off-brand spy kids/harry potter/hunger games type beat stuff. and it was awful. but i was literally like 9 so cut me some slackLKSDFJSLKDjf

4. on which platforms do you post your stories?

primarily tumblr and i only recently made an ao3 acc. the only fic i have on there is a tae drabble that's already posted on here LOL. i think it's 'resolutely, yours.' but i don't even remember bye. i remember i drafted drivers license on there but i literally forgot to post it so it's probably gone HAHA.

5. what is your favourite genre to write?

e2l even though i have no e2l fics on this blog i think

6. are you a pantser or a planner?

i used to never plan my fics, like at all. but then i was so unsatisfied with the flow of things and like idk lack of clarity. drivers license was the first time i actually sat down and planned out an entire fic as i was writing it. it rly does make things easier when u have an idea of what u want. and then just having the idea can help you possibly expand on it and get even better ideas off of it. the events of drivers license and the order it was all written in changed like 20394803 times. but yeah, does that make sense... LMFAO

7. one shot or multi-chapter?

one shots because i can never fucking get myself to finish a series. i love reading them tho

8. what is the perfect chapter length in your opinion?

no clue. i love long stories and slow burn tho, it's just so satisfying and $wag when it's well-written and the characters are well-written too.

9. what is your longest published story? is it complete?

the fic i'm about to post is nearing 20k, and it might even surpass that which will end up being the longest story on this blog. insane! drivers license is around 10k i think, and then if u combine the wnrs couple's fics it's like 15k? im too lazy to look tbh SRy

10. which story did you enjoy working on the most?

oh drivers license for sure! i don't think i've ever immersed myself and put so much effort into a story before. it was truly an amazing experience, and i just know that i'll probably never be able to write anything like that fic ever again. it's rly one of a kind for me.

11. favourite request you've have written and why (if any?)

most of the requests i had on this blog got taken down bc they were so bad. i'm not sure if the yoongi superhero!au is still up on here, but i'd choose that one since i really had to branch out of my writing style for it. regardless of it being like barely 2k.

12. are there reoccurring themes in your stories?

miscommunication, so much banter, i used to see this a lot but i would take it out but... head bonking ??LSKDFJHAHA, my side characters being dumbasses and then my main characters being even bigger dumbasses (oc probably being the biggest dumbass)

13. current number of wips?

during the course of writing the current fic i plan on posting this week, i created like 5 wips and they all hit 5k, and then i straight up abandoned them. and then the endless idea bank google doc. so if i count the wips i for sure want to finish by like this year or summer... like 3 or 4.

14. three things you have noticed about your own writing?

i feel like i repeat stuff a lot throughout all my stories LOL,, it irks me so bad. i think i relate to all my ocs in at least one way or another.

15. a quote you like from a published story

alrighty this is a lil snippet from 'drivers license':

this is from the second letter oc wrote to jk:

"The same delusional daydreamer hopes that one day we can talk and laugh like old pals. Like nothing ever changed between us. I hope you achieve your dreams that you always thought seem too far-fetched, yet in the back of my mind I always knew you could easily grasp. I hope someday you can live a life of lesser worries and insecurities, because you rarely had any to start off with. I always hoped the world for you, because you deserve it. And despite everything, I still believe you do."

this paragraph seems pretty simple but i think it did the best job of like describing oc's emotions and realization of things,, its kinda cliche tew yas love that

16. a quote from an unpublished story

alr this is from the e2l jimin series that is going to take me forever to write bc the outline for it is SO LONG

“Would it kill you to at least show up with a shirt on?“ You sneer, patting your forehead with the back of your hand due to the sweltering sun. The event hasn’t even started yet and you can already feel your hair sticking to the back of your neck.

Crossing his arms, he scoffs, his biceps bulging out as his arms bend. Not like you were staring at them. “Sorry couldn’t hear you, too busy boosting the school’s morale.”

17. space for you to say something to your readers

i feel like i don't show enough appreciation to my readers and mutual on this blog. i have met so many lovely people and have gotten so much support, i hope u all know that it does NOT go unnoticed. i always tend to go back and reread all the comments and asks that i get on my stories bc it rly does make my heart soar. it makes my day!!! thank u all for sticking with me thru all my 3am shitposts and inconsistent writing schedule LOL,, you all have my whole heart and some more <3