#it's been three years and this is still hysterical to me

[therealcocoshady]

Hey! Can you please write marshall's reaction when doctor tells him that his wife is pregnant with TRIPLETS and all of them are BOYS?

Boy dad 🩵

A/N : I find it absolutely hilarious that you sent this request right after I mention I had a soft spot for writing Eminem as the ultimate girl dad 😅. You’re challenging me and I like that 👀. Also… I had SO MUCH FUN writing this request. I don’t think I have written anything this fast ! I hope you enjoy it ✨.

CW : Mention of infertility diagnosis - surprise pregnancy - triplet - mention of abortive measures - angst - fluff

I imagine that he’d react differently to all these news, this pregnancy definitely bringing him on some type of emotional rollercoaster.

He absolutely did not expect you to tell him you were pregnant. You’d been together for a while and, early on in the relationship, you’d told him that you had endometriosis, and that the rather advanced stage of the condition affected your fertility. He didn’t mind it one bit, though. He already had daughters and did not necessarily want any more kids. If you had mentioned that being a mom was important to you, he would have done everything in his power to make your dreams come true, whether it was by doing IVF or adopting. But you didn’t. You’d known about the condition for more than a decade and, though it hadn’t been easy at first, you were at peace with the idea of not raising kids. As long as you had the love of your life by your side, you knew you’d be happy. The two of you went on to get married and enjoy life together. For years, you enjoyed marital bliss and a childfree home, his daughters being all grown up and out of the house. Never in a million years did you expect to get pregnant. The absence of period didn’t exactly tip you off, since your cycle had always been very irregular. And you almost laughed in the face of your GP when she suggested you get some bloodwork done and do a pregnancy test. Sure, you’d booked a consultation because of fatigue and nausea, but there was no way in your mind that the symptoms could be pregnancy-related. After all, the doctors had evaluated your chances of conceiving as « slim to none ». The only reason you agreed to the pregnancy test was because the bloodwork prescription also included other things, so you figured your GP would actually find the cause, probably anemia, and prescribe you some supplements.

You nearly fell from your chair when she called you about the result, and you had her confirm several times that there was no confusion, or that it was not a prank. When the call ended, you burst in a fit of nervous laughter, still in disbelief. Your laugh echoed throughout the house, causing Marshall to come to your office. You realized you probably sounded manic and demented when you saw your husband’s concerned expression. « Are you… alright? » he asked with a raised eyebrow. You didn’t even think twice abut breaking the news to him. « The doctor called. She had my results », you said, struggling to form a complete sentence. He looked at you, nervosity creeping up on him. When it came to you, he seemed to have the ability to get paranoid over nothing. And if it had you sounding this insane, he figured bad news weren’t exactly out of the question, especially with how sick you had been in the past few weeks. He kneeled by your side, holding your hand in his. « So… Is there anything wrong? » he asked in a concerned tone. « I’m pregnant, » you cackled, sounding like a hyena. « Fifteen years ago, they said I was infertile. I did three years of therapy after that and now… pregnant », you hysterically guffawed. You had tears streaming on your cheeks and you struggled to catch your breathing, the nervous laughter taking over your body. So much so that you didn’t even register Marshall’s reaction, or lack thereof. But, minutes after you said the word, you slowly realized he’d remained silent. He was still in the same position, staring at you without so much as blinking. For a spare second, you thought he’d turned into a wax statue and you suddenly understood why some people had described his stare as « creepy ». As your mind became clearer and the silence settled, you started freaking out. « Marshall…? » you asked. He slowly started blinking, looking at you as if he were a deer in headlights. « P-pregnant? » he whispered. « You’re… pregnant? ». You gently squeezed your hand and nodded, the news dawning on you in a different way. « I am » you confirmed. « And, uh… eight weeks along, approximately ». He let out a sigh, visibly surprised. Then, he took both of your hands and kissed them profusely.

« But you’re alright? » he asked, and you nodded again. « Fuck, babe, you scared me. I wasn’t sure if you were dying, or demented, or both » he let out with a chuckle. « Nope… Just… Pregnant », you giggled, still in disbelief over the word. « That’s wonderful » he said emotionally, a smile appearing on your face. You looked at him, scanning his face, just to be sure. « You really think so? » you asked. « Because I know it wasn’t planned, and… ». He gently pressed his finger to your lips and shook his head. « It wasn’t. Fuck. It really wasn’t. But if you’re happy about it… Wait. Are you? » he asked carefully. You gave him a nod and a smile. « I am. I just… I can’t believe it ». He cupped your face and smiled at you tenderly. « If you are happy about it, so am I. That’s great news, Y/N. We made a baby » he said. You couldn’t help but grin from ear to ear, happy tears welling in your eyes. « I thought I’d never be a mom » you whispered, waves of emotions crashing over you as you remembered the first time you were told you couldn’t conceive. « Apparently, you thought wrong » he said, happiness radiating on his face. « And I know our baby already has the best mama » he added emotionally, bringing you into a tight, heartfelt embrace.

The following couple of weeks was emotional but happy. The two of you were ecstatic, determined to welcome this baby as the most beautiful blessing ever. You were still sick and exhausted, but the perspective of welcoming a bundle of joy that was the product of your love certainly made it easier to bear, as did your husband’s gentle care. He seemed determined to make your life easier and give you the most beautiful pregnancy experience, constantly dotting on you and spoiling you. You thought he’d given you the princess treatment in your early courting days but apparently, he was able to take it to another level. You didn’t need the numerous bouquets of flowers (in fact, the smell made you nauseous but you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him that), nor the many presents, but you enjoyed them nonetheless. Most of all, you loved seeing his excitement and devotion for the baby, whom both of you had yet to see.

Both of you felt a sense of childlike excitement, going for the ultrasound appointment. The closest thing you could compare it to was your niece’s first trip to Disneyland, preparing to meet her favorite princesses. You were a little nervous, praying that the baby was healthy. You’d asked Marshall about the gender, and whether he’d rather have a boy or a girl, but both of you were in agreement that, as long as the baby was healthy, it did not matter. « You know, I always thought being a girl dad was what made me so soft, but I know the baby will have me wrapped around their finger, even if they’re a boy » he said. You knew that it was too early to know the gender anyway, but you couldn’t help it. You kept on trying to imagine what that baby would look like. Marshall held your hand in his as the doctor put the probe on your stomach, squeezing tighter as both of you noticed the furrowing of her eyebrows, looking at the screen. « Alright », she said. « It looks like I made a little mistake while interpreting the hormone rate results » she said, turning to you. You turned to Marshall, a sense of nervosity taking over, unsure what the implications were. Did she mean that there was no baby ? Or that there was some health issues? You felt a lump form in your throat, unable to talk. « What mistake? » Marshall nearly barked, nerves taking over his usual politeness. « Well, you see, we usually use the hormone rates to give an estimate, of how far along the pregnancy is » she explained. « However, we tend to assume that it’s a singleton ». Both of you opened wide eyes and you held two fingers up. « Twins? » you asked in a throaty voice. « Triplets » she announced with a smile. « You’re not as far along as I thought. About six weeks. But all three babies are healthy ».

Part of you wanted to sigh in relief, over the news that the pregnancy was healthy but learning that you were carrying not one, not two, but three babies sent both you and Marshall into a spiral. As you drove home, pictures in hand, none of you knew how to feel, and you both remained rather quiet, exchanging banalities, visibly in shock and in need of some time to process. Not so long ago, you were sure you’d never have kids and now, you had to wrap your head around the fact that you were carrying three. In a way, it was a blessing, for sure. But you’d spent so many years envisioning your life without kids of your own that even the perspective of raising one was overwhelming. Multiplying it by three left you speechless and terrified. You weren’t sure how you were supposed to do this. And you weren’t sure how your husband felt either. That would make him a dad to… Six kids. You spent the night in your bed, trying to get some rest and emotional clarity. You took to Google, typing vague and stupid requests such as « pregnant with triplets and freaking out ». You were hoping for some support, some testimonies of parents who had shared your concerns but made it work. Instead, you were met with hundreds of resources about selective fetal reduction procedures. You read a couple of them but, soon enough, you ended up bawling. You couldn’t bring yourself to consider it. You weren’t really churchy or religious by any means, but part of you wanted to believe that life had given you triplets for a reason, and there was no way you would get rid of one of your babies. They were there, and you already loved them so much, even if the perspective of running after three toddlers was nerve-wracking.

When Marshall walked into your shared bedroom and found you crying, he immediately engulfed you into a hug. « Babe, what’s wrong? » he asked softly. « I’m so scared. Three babies is a lot » you hiccuped. « But I don’t want to kill any of them ». He stepped back and looked at you in shock. « Woah, woah, woah. Calm down. Who said we needed to kill babies? » he asked. « I learned that there’s this surgery, that you… I don’t know. Apparently, people do that when they’re carrying too many babies » you tentatively explained in a shaky voice. « I’m freaking out, Marshall. And I know you are, too ». He hummed and nodded, not denying it. « Of course I am » he said gently. « I mean, I wasn’t prepared for a new baby. And now, knowing there’s three of them… It’s a lot. But we can do it. It’ll just take… a lot of logistics. And diapers, I guess. ». His tone was reassuring, though you could tell he was definitely stressed out. « But how are we going to do? With work and all? And do you think we’ll get any sleep at all? » you asked nervously. He shrugged and pressed a kiss to your forehead. « I don’t know » he admitted. « But we’re lucky enough that we can afford anything we need. If you want to quit your job, you can. Or we can get nannies, or a chef, or whatever. Or I can quit my job. But we’ll manage, I know it ». You let out a sigh and let your head roll on his shoulder. « It’s going to change everything » you said. « Yeah, it is. But we’re doing this together. » he replied. « So… You don’t want to get rid of two of them? » you nervously asked. « No. If you think you can’t handle three kids and you want to have that surgery, I’ll support you. But other than that, it’s not up to me to decide. It’s your body and your pregnancy. And whether we have one, three, or seven babies, I will love and support all of you ».

In the months that followed, Marshall continued to dot on you, trying to provide comfort and reassurance, but you could feel each other’s nervousness. This wasn’t help by the reaction to your pregnancy announcement. Your friends and family, though they were happy for you, were not exactly tactful about the huge change the triplets would bring in their life, sometimes making little jokes about Marshall being « too old for this shit ». They also seemed concerned about the impact on his career, though he made it clear that family would remain his priority, as it had been in the past, and that he would put his career on hold if need be. He reiterated the sentiment when you confronted him about it. « You don’t have to do this, you know? I know your career is important to you, and that you had so many plans in mind. The last thing I want is for the pregnancy to ruin it for you » you told him one night. « I know I don’t have to » he assured you. « But you’re my wife. You became my family the day I put a ring on your finger. We vowed to support each other and you held your part of the deal all these years. You supported me in everything. I want to be here for you and our babies. And it wouldn’t be fair to ask you to sacrifice more than you have » he said. You nodded, swallowing dryly. You had felt his tension and nervousness in the past weeks. He remained loving and caring, but you knew he was trying to anticipate everything. «Look, I’ve already talked to Paul. We cleared the schedule for a while. Two months before your due date, and six months after that. Then, we’ll reevaluate. But it’s not just all the career, you know? We’re welcoming three babies, everything is going to change and, some of it is going to be hard, but it’s also going to be happy. I don’t want to miss any milestone. The first time they smile, the crawling, the first steps… I want to be there. So, really, you giving me three amazing, beautiful, healthy kids is not ruining anything ».

As the pregnancy progressed, however, the nervousness remained. The two of you certainly had a few cold sweats when you tried to prepare for the birth, overwhelmed by the amount of baby stuff. Cribs, diapers, bottles, car seats… Everything was to be multiplied by three. In true dad fashion, he decided to buy a new car to accommodate the needs of your growing family, but you could see his frustration. « I think I’ll just end up repurposing a tour bus » he sighed. « The amount of stuff we’ll be driving around is insane ! Have you seen the space we’ll need, just to fit the stroller and diaper bags?! ». The more you tried to prepare, the less joyful it became. The two of you were still happy, determined to welcome the babies and love them, but you were both overwhelmed, especially Marshall. Carrying the babies, feeling them growing inside of you was your main source of comfort and reassurance but, even though your husband was involved, he didn’t have that bond. For him, it still felt distant and logistical. Until the gender reveal.

Prior to learning you were having triplets, the two of you had toyed with the idea of waiting until the birth to find out the gender. But now that the planning was overwhelming, it felt like knowing the gender would make things easier. You also suspected that it might help Marshall feel a little closer to your little ones, since he would be able to at least picture it a little better. However, you opted out of turning it into a huge event. Carrying triplets was exhausting and you were in no mood to be social for a whole afternoon. Instead, you decided to enjoy the moment, just the two of you. The doctor had given you an envelope with the gender of the triplets, which you have to the owner of your favorite bakery. You ended up with a three-layered cake, the color of each layer representing the gender of one baby. « Are you ready? » you asked as you opened the box, revealing an elegant cake, coated in white frosting. « Ready » he said with a smile. « Still no preference for the gender? » you asked teasingly. « I’m hoping for at least one son, » he admitted. « I love being a girl dad, but six daughters and a wife would feel… A little lonely » he chuckled before crouching in front of you and placing a loving kiss on your belly. « But I love y’all anyway » he whispered. You took a deep breath and cut the cake, careful not to look before he could. « I can’t do it! » you said. « I can’t look! You have a look and tell me! ». He chuckled as you closed your eyes. You heard the cluttering of cutlery, followed by a « HOLY SHIT!!! ». You immediately opened your eyes and saw all blue layers inside of the piece of cake on the plate.

Marshall was covering in mouth, in absolute disbelief. « Boys! All boys! » he said. « Looks like your wish came true » you whispered. He took your hands and kissed you lovingly. « You’re going to be a boy mom » he stated with a smile, knowing full-well you’d always said the boy moms were the most annoying of the species. You giggled and pressed your forehead to his. « Hopefully, I don’t become too annoying » you chuckled. « Do whatever you want, I’m definitely going to be an annoying boy dad » he grinned. «After we eat that cake, I’m ordering Lions jerseys for them. And Jordans. Oh my God, I’m having sons ». You watched lovingly as he rambled about how great it would be to introduce them to football, how much fun they’d have bonding over sports. His joy, which had seemed quieted by the logistical concerns, was overwhelming and he was positively beaming. « I’m quitting » he finally said. « You’re what?! » you asked. « Babe, picture this: you give birth to these three, and you do it twice more. Maybe just twins for the last pregnancy. We only need 11 players for the Mathers football team! ». You rolled your eyes at him and patted his chest. « We’ll see how you feel about it after the first night home from the hospital » you said. He rolled his eyes back at you and placed a kiss on your lips. « I can’t wait to meet these guys ».

[unsteddie]

Steve and Eddie are on again off again for years after the events of st4. It's never too serious, they have basically opposite schedules. Eddie tends bar and plays with his band, existing mostly at night. Steve gets a degree and moves onto being a school counselor, late nights are the bane of his existence. It's easier when they live together, but over the years they've moved in and out of the little place they share with Robin.

Eddie's moved cities a few times, tried living with the band, has been on and off tour. Steve moved back home when his parents divorced for about a year to help his mom out, moved in and usually quickly out with partners. He volunteered a few summers to live in low income rural areas and help with the schools summer programs.

They just never quite get the timing right to try anything other than casual. It's honestly tearing Steve apart, it's been the source of every break up he's had since meeting the man. Eddie however seems entirely unbothered.

Steve knows for a fact he's Eddie's favorite person. Even when Eddie is "seeing" someone else, Eddie's relationships are never serious, he still prefers to spend his time with Steve. He just doesn't get why Eddie doesn't want something real, but he doesn't push, doesn't wanna lose what he has

It's a full decade of this nonsense before the song Quit Playing Games With My Heart by The Backstreet Boys comes out. Steve doesn't really care much about the band, he likes boy band music well enough. It's fun and catchy and danceable. But he's picking Eddie up from the airport, back from a three month stint in LA recording and promoting with the band. And the air is tense as the lyrics spill out of the radio, and it makes Steve feel heavy.

The song ends but he's still pretty misty, it's only ten minutes back to the apartment. He can hold it back, and when they're home he'll just excuse himself and cry quietly on his bed. He's done it plenty of times before, this is no different, he's got this, he's good.

"Stevie?" Eddie asks softly, and his his voice sounds strained, like something's got him worked up too.

Steve can't respond, not with his voice, so he just sort of nods, doesn't look at Eddie, but can feel the weight of Eddie's stare.

"What is it about me that you don't wanna stick around for?" He asks quietly, but there's a solid quality to his tone, like this is a question he's resolved to ask many times, and finally got his nerve up.

Steve doesn't respond for a long time, as pieces slowly move into place. Eddie has always seemed so unaffected, even congratulating Steve when things got serious with someone else. But if he looked closely at Eddie's reactions now, in retrospect, with the way he asked his quiet question, it clicks.

Eddie never liked any of Steve's partners, always gave Steve an out of he needed it, was always a little petty about Steve's ex's after a breakup. The thought that maybe, for all these years, a decade now, they'd been wasting their time keep things casual was just...well it was fucking hilarious. Terrible and heartbreaking, sure. But it kick started ridiculous sounding giggles.

Giggles quickly snowballed into full hysterical laughter. He glanced at Eddie who looked hurt, which was absurd. Steve's laughter became unhinged, and he had to pull off the road. Eddie didn't look hurt anymore when he looked back, he looked furious, and he was wiping his cheeks. Steve hadn't seen tears, but the idea that Eddie was crying over him did nothing to quell the laughter.

The moment the car stopped Eddie threw the door open, and climbed out. Grabbing his duffle from the back seat. He managed to stomp a good distance away before Steve could get himself together enough to chase after him. He was still giggling when he caught up enough to grab the strap of Eddie's bag. He pulled it back hard enough to knock Eddie off balance, and had to reach out to steady him.

"Eddie please," he paused to laugh and catch his breath as Eddie struggled to pull out of his grip. "Please, baby, give me a minute."

Eddie froze at that. They didn't use pet names like that. Nothing so relationship-y. It was enough to make Eddie wait for him. Steve didn't let go though, terrified Eddie might run off without a proper explanation.

He didn't know how to explain it, the years of longing, the way he'd wanted to ask the same question so many times, how he ached for him. He certainly didn't know how to explain his reaction.

"I don't know why it made me laugh like that." He started once he had his breathing under control. "Some stupid pop song-" and he was laughing again because this was stupid. He threw his hands up in frustration, immediately grabbing onto Eddie again when his hands came back down.

"some stupid pop song had me on the brink of tears, because my stupid, broken heart-" more laughter, and Steve was getting really tired of this. "Aches for you, when you've, I guess-" laughter, "been feeling the same way. God Eddie how stupid are we?"

And with that the giggles were gone, his insides had gone suddenly still, and he felt the loss of the time they could have had.

"how long?" Eddie asked, quiet again, he was never this quite. When Steve looked at him now his face was hard to read, tears still brimming in his eyes, but the anger and hurt were gone.

"since the boat house probably, at least since the hospital, for sure. When you woke up and you were cuffed to the bed. The first thing you said was some joke about being flattered they thought you were that dangerous. I knew for sure then, but I think it started in the boat house." Steve flushed, his face hot and pink.

"God, no, that's ..we can't have been feeling the same way so long. Stevie, what have we been doing?" Tears were falling, both men crying on the side of the road, and Eddie was holding onto Steve now too.

"Didn't think you'd want me for real. Didn't think anyone-" Steve coughed around the lump in his throat. "Tried to move on, so many times. Never could, it always came back to you."

And Eddie was suddenly in his arms, weeping, getting tight words out between sobs. "Never. Anything. Compare. No one. Even close. Just you. My Stevie."

"Didn't catch all that sweetheart. You'll have to tell me the rest later." Steve whispered into his ear, and Eddie melted in his arms, nodding emphatically into Steve's shoulder.

The time they waisted sat heavy on Steve's shoulders, but he had Eddie now. Eventually they would joke about it, about pining after each other for a decade before getting thier shit together, but it was gonna hurt for a while still.

[sakur4ii]

Rooted Connections Pt.2

Charles Xavier x Reader x Erik Lensherr

the gender of the reader is not specified

Note: I will not make a third part, I hope you like it. Also reminder that English is not my first language, let me know if there are any mistakes I didn't notice (especially with pronouns).

Summary: feelings come out, plants love romance and you are still as blind as in the first part.

Finally, peace.

After supposedly saving the future from great chaos, Charles decided to reopen the doors of his school, offering you to stay with him. You accepted because you didn't want to leave him alone, feeling his sadness through the earth. Although in reality, he wasn’t alone; he now had his students, but the connection the three of you had created was so strong that you feared that if you also left, he would break again.

Years have passed, and now the school is full, and you are a teacher.

You walk through the halls, searching for something, maybe someone, though you’re not sure. The mansion’s plants have warned you but haven’t specified anything, so you proceed cautiously, trying to find some intruder.

"Professor Y/N,” you hear, a voice you know well.

“What is it, Jean?” You turn around; you can’t see her clearly, but you can feel her nerves and hear her heart beating faster than usual.

“Someone is approaching from the backyard.”

Before she finishes speaking, you are already running to the backyard. The plants don’t want to reveal anything, and for some reason, you don’t feel any unusual presence, leading you to assume that the earth doesn’t want you to know who the intruder is on purpose.

Once your bare feet touch the green, damp grass, you stop feeling the presence of everyone at the school except for the person sitting on the grass a few feet away from you, and Charles, who is coming up behind you.

You take slow steps toward the seated person, hearing a gasp behind you. You sit down next to him and wait for Charles to come closer until he is on the other side of the man.

“What are you doing here, Erik?” Charles asks. You can feel his conflicting emotions through his voice. On one hand, he is happy to see him again and that it isn’t to stop him from killing all of humanity and condemning mutants. On the other hand, he’d love to punch him again for prioritizing revenge and abandoning him.

But you focus more on the absolute pain you feel from Erik through the earth. You can feel him mourning, yet also very angry, seeking comfort to avoid vengeance.

When Charles doesn’t receive any response, and you can assume he also starts to feel the man’s emotions, you wrap your arm around Erik’s shoulders, pulling him into a side hug, enough for him to start crying.

“I tried,” he sobs into your neck, while Charles sits on the ground, leaving the chair aside and firmly holding Erik’s hand between his own. “I tried to live like them, to blend in, and they… they killed my wife and daughter.”

You don’t know what to say; you don’t know how to comfort him with words, so you just rub his back. You know Charles is afraid of saying something wrong, something that will only make the situation worse, so both of you remain silent, comforting your old friend (and the third missing piece of the puzzle) through gentle touches.

“I didn’t know where else to go… you’re all I have left.”

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

You weren’t born blind; you had the privilege of seeing the color of the sky and vegetation. You had the privilege of having a favorite color, but an accident occurred, and it was no longer worth thinking about things like a favorite book or a favorite flower because you couldn’t see anything anymore.

Plants are very talkative; they always have been. They love to gossip, and they love drama. The day before the accident, they were very hysterical, sensing something bad was coming, but they couldn’t say what.

Then the accident happened, and you were hospitalized. The plants felt guilty, apologizing over and over, even the plants you didn’t know but who knew you, apologizing and feeling ashamed that they hadn’t been useful, that they couldn’t prevent the tragedy.

It was when you lost your sight that your powers began to manifest: control of the earth, the ability to feel through it. Your mentors were the plants, the trees, and the earth itself. You learned that you could see through the roots of trees, and that was an easy way to find something or someone.

When you met Charles, even before the man arrived at your house, the plants were more talkative than usual. They told you everything they knew, like how Logan was from the future and needed help, your help. But they mostly talked about Professor X and a puzzle. You couldn’t understand them, but their excitement amused you.

When they freed Erik from that cell, the plants began talking non-stop again, once more about a supposed puzzle and Erik’s entire life, about how angry they were with some of his actions but how much they appreciated him.

The first time they fell completely silent was when Erik shot Raven; the second was when Erik fled to avoid being captured.

The third time you didn’t understand the silence; you were listening to Charles reading to his younger students, and out of nowhere, the plants fell silent, a mourning silence.

And the fourth time was the day after the third when Erik appeared unannounced at the school. Although it was more for drama—did I mention they are dramatic?

Erik stayed at the school, purposely obtaining the room that was between yours and Charles’.

If before the plants always talked about Charles, Erik, and his family and the children at school, now, whenever you entered your room, they only talked about Charles and Erik. You only heard about the children if you went outside.

A couple of years have passed. Erik is visibly better, happier, and that makes you happy because it’s real, he’s not pretending, and you’re the first to know that.

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

Your room is a madhouse; you feel like you’re losing your sanity. They won’t stop talking about how handsome, intelligent, and kind Charles is, or how hot, serious, and cunning Erik is. They have the audacity to tease you for not being able to see them, those bitches. When did they go from remorse to mockery?

“What time is it?” you ask, tired, sitting on the edge of your bed while putting on your sunglasses. They all ignore you, except for some jasmine flowers Charles gave you for your birthday along with some heart-shaped sunglasses.

You leave the room, grateful for the silence the hallway plants give you. You don’t know what to do; maybe you’ll go to the kitchen and eat some ice cream, you’re not sure.

When you arrive at the kitchen and take out a tub of ice cream and a spoon, you’re surprised that no plant has told you not to eat something so cold in the middle of the night, raising your suspicions.

You focus on the earth, sensing how all the children and adults are sleeping, everyone except Xavier and Lensherr, which makes you sigh tiredly.

Lately, the plants not only wouldn’t stop talking about them, but they also did everything possible to ensure you spent most of your time in the same room with them, and you only complied because deep down, you wanted that too.

You finish the ice cream and walk through the halls to Charles’ office, without any obstacles in the way (the children make sure not to leave anything lying around that might hinder you, even though they know you could easily avoid it; they fear you might get distracted and have an accident).

—“Come in”— you hear in your head, making you jump in place, and some nearby flowers laugh.

You open the door, and for some reason, they’re both sitting on a three-seater couch. Charles’ wheelchair is set aside to not get in the way, and the plants laugh conspiratorially.

«Speak of the devil…» a flower murmurs, sparking your curiosity.

“Can’t sleep?” Xavier asks. You shake your head. The other man is silent; you know he’s watching you, his intense gaze on you. Sometimes you think he has the power to read souls and keeps it a secret.

Charles laughs at your thought, but you don’t notice him elbowing Erik to stop being so obvious.

“Come sit with us, darling.”

The flowers and plants in the room react as if the pet name was directed at them, as if expressing what you don’t dare express even in your own head for fear the telepath might discover your feelings.

Smiling, you approach the couch. Erik, the closest to you, takes your hand and guides you to sit between them.

“What were you talking about?” you ask.

“Nothing important; we were just planning to take the older kids on a field trip, maybe,” Charles responds, and you know he’s not lying, but from the booing of the plants, you can tell that wasn’t what they were discussing before you arrived.

Erik remains silent; you can’t figure out why. Lately, you can’t sense his feelings, only his emotions, and you can guess that the earth is hiding them on purpose—or maybe the metal?

What you do sense is his knee brushing against yours and his gaze trying not to linger on you for too long.

You tilt your head to one side, sharpening your hearing, trying to pick up something more; you don’t know what, but you want to hear all their movements and, above all, the beating of their hearts.

Just when you perfectly hear their rapid heartbeats, the plants start making a ruckus, making you frown.

“What’s wrong?” Erik finally speaks.

“Why don’t the plants want me to hear your heartbeats?”

Unbeknownst to you, Erik and Charles share a wide-eyed look of complicity.

—“We should tell her”— Erik.

—“Now?”— Charles.

The silence between the two men creates a lump in your throat. Since that day on the plane, you felt like you were missing something in the dynamic, all because you couldn’t see. You felt out of place in moments like these, where they might be communicating with just a glance—or worse, telepathically. You hated the thought that they were having secret conversations, thinking that they were using the fact that you couldn't see to communicate in secret. And you hated knowing they were communicating because you could feel the change in emotions through the ground, but what you hated even more was that now you couldn't even feel the emotions of the two men because nature decided to turn its back on you this time.

Tired, you get up from the couch.

"Sorry for interrupting your time alone, I'm going to bed."

You avoid the obstacles you can't feel now but know are there.

"Y/N, no, wait! It's not what you think, let me explain," Charles says, while Erik gets up and runs towards you, grabbing you so you won't escape (and without you knowing, preventing you from bumping into the closed door).

"Listen to them, listen to them, listen to them," the plants chant in unison as you squirm in his grip. The earth allows you to see through your feet again, finally letting you feel the emotions of the two men, which makes you stop struggling and fall into shock at what you're sensing.

"You two are in love," you whisper.

Erik leads you back to the couch and sits you down so that you're facing the telepath, while he hugs you from behind and hides his face in the crook of your neck. He's embarrassed.

Charles gently removes your sunglasses, and you can feel his emotions not just through the ground but also inside your head. He takes your hand in his.

"We’ve been debating whether or not to tell you; we didn't know how you'd react, darling."

"So much secrecy just to tell me you two are dating? I'm not homophobic if that's what you were worried about," you say with an amused smile.

You're sure both men are rolling their eyes.

«Don't be an idiot» a flower says.

"Shush."

Charles laughs while Erik raises an eyebrow in a questioning manner towards him, knowing he's missing something.

"We're not just dating, Y/N. We love you as much as we love each other, and we want you to be a part of what we have because you're the missing piece of the puzzle," says Charles.

"And we want you to be officially ours," adds Erik.

Their words take you by surprise, making your heart race a thousand miles an hour. You're sure you're blushing, and loose words echo in your head.

The missing piece of the puzzle... ha... that sounds familiar.

At some point during the evening, you moved to Erik's room (the one furthest from the other rooms, with only one flower that you gave him a long time ago), where you shared kisses, hugs, words, and feelings. Where you expressed the great love you share, making grand plans for the future. And where you realized that you never were out of place; rather, you had always been missing, so they could feel complete.

The End.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

@djlnkaled @kindlover @only-nope @larissa1379 👋❤️

[littlexdeaths]

eddie munson x shy fem reader

warnings: some bullying, little sprinkle of hurt/comfort, lots more smooching, underage drinking/partying, so so so much cuteness

part three | part five

let’s go, don’t wait masterlist

word count: 4k

a/n: a shoutout to both @rebelfell for gifting me eddie’s costume idea and @thepurplelovewitch for shy girls! and the biggest kudos to @undead-supernova for looking this over and always encouraging/helping me to improve. <3

“Nance, if you think I’m wearing that, you’ve lost your damn mind,” you mutter with utmost distaste. 

The brunette peeks her head around the package she’s holding to give you a small pout, the other hand resting on her hip.

“Oh come on, live a little!” She sighs, putting the sexy nurse costume back onto the rack. “There is no way I am letting you sulk on your couch again this year.”

You roll your eyes but continue browsing the costumes, each one more revealing than the last. You didn’t mind spending your Halloween night curled up on the sofa with a scary movie, you were more comfortable that way. 

Besides you weren’t normally invited to such gatherings, even if you did want to go. Tina only seemed to invite you out of obligation, not because she wanted you there. 

“Well…maybe I won’t be spending it alone,” you mumble and her brow quirks up.

“Oh, are you and Eddie doing something?” she prods. 

But your shoulders sag a little, unable to hide your disappointment when you shake your head.

“I mean, he hasn’t asked me…yet.”

You continue to flick through the costumes, now too consumed in your own thoughts. 

It has been a week since he kissed you on the football field—and it’s still the only thing you can think about.

The warm press of his mouth against yours, breathes mingling together in the chill autumn air. The way his strong hands encircled your waist, brushing up against the cool skin of your cheek. The memory sends a delightful shiver down your spine, despite the suffocating warmth of the small costume shop. 

“Okay,” Nancy says with finality, abruptly interrupting your daydream. She nods her head in satisfaction. “Okay, this is the one!” 

She thrusts a costume into your awaiting arms. Once you catch a glimpse of it, you blanch before immediately shaking your head and giving it back. 

“And you’re actually insane, Nance.”

She rolls her eyes, but shoves it back into your arms anyway.

“Oh, come on, isn’t the whole point of Halloween to dress up? Go outside your comfort zone?” 

You glance down from her encouraging gaze to the costume in your hands. A woman with flowing blonde hair is smiling back at you, a black and white corset hugging her curves in all the right places. 

But it’s the pair of bunny ears perched atop her head and the white cotton tail attached to the backside of the costume that somehow makes you feel more insecure. 

“I am not dressing up as a pornstar—”

Nancy all but slaps a hand over your mouth to stop your hysterical shriek. A mother with her young son gives you both a distasteful look as they pass, the tips of your ears warming in embarrassment as you tuck the costume behind your back. 

“It’s not a pornstar costume,” she quips with a lowered voice. “It’s a Playboy Bunny.” 

You give her a look, blowing out an exasperated breath. 

“As if they aren’t the same thing?” 

By some miracle you manage to walk out of that shop a half hour later. Nancy’s promise of burgers and milkshakes fuel your last minute costume decision. But as you both descend onto Main Street, leaves crunching beneath your boots, you can’t help but feel like everyone is staring at you. 

It’s as if they can see that damned bunny costume hidden beneath the dark plastic bag, the contents weighing you down with each step you take towards Nancy’s station wagon. 

Twenty minutes. 

It’s been twenty minutes since he’s been kept waiting, and Eddie’s patience is finally beginning to run out. But the snap of a branch catches his attention, eyes darting to the trees ahead. 

Eddie is more than confused when he realizes the regular he was supposed to be meeting had bailed on him. And the person that emerges from the line of trees is none other than Nancy Wheeler. 

He quickly shuts the metal lunchbox as she approaches, taking a seat on the bench opposite of him, determination clear on her features.

“Uh…are you lost, Wheeler?”

“No,” she states flatly, swinging the other leg over the bench seat. “You’re just the guy I’ve been looking for.” 

He scratches at the stubble on his jaw, fingers tapping against the worn wood of the table. Eddie has seen a lot of odd things in his twenty years of life, but Nancy Wheeler making a drug deal was not something he ever expected. 

He glances at her warily when she folds her hands on the table, looking far too prim and proper to be sitting out here with him and his lunchbox full of weed. 

“Well, how can I be of service then, Wheeler?” he tilts his head towards the metal box, but she holds his gaze regardless. 

“I have a proposition for you.” 

He can’t help but snort, already beginning to shake his head. 

“Okay, I don’t know what rumors you've heard Wheeler, but the only type of payment I accept is cold hard cash.” 

And from the look of almost horror that crosses over her features, he instantly realizes he’s misread this entire situation. 

“Oh god, I’m not here for a drug deal, Munson!” 

It’s silent for a beat, neither of them daring to look at the other out of sheer embarrassment. 

“So, why are you here, Nancy?” he asks quietly. 

Her eyes flick up to look at him again, noting the splotches of pink rising up the skin of his neck. 

“Tina’s party on Friday,” she starts, tucking a loose curl behind her ear. 

His shoulders sag a little at her answer, arching a brow in her direction. He only can assume someone put her up to this, one of her more popular friends not wanting to be caught dead with the likes of him. Well, unless they need someone to supply the weed. 

Nonetheless, a part of him can’t help but admit he’s a little intrigued.

“What about it?”

Nancy flashes him a look before continuing. 

“There’s a certain someone that’s going to be in attendance…” she trails, biting back a smile when he instantly perks up. “And I think she would really want you to be there.” 

Eddie’s cheeks flush a rosy pink, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. While he had thought about going to try and make some extra cash, he wasn’t exactly sold on the idea. 

A costume party filled with a bunch of drunken idiots that hated his guts sounded like a goddamn nightmare. But knowing that you were going to be there? Well, that changed things drastically. 

“I’ll be there,” he asserts. 

Nancy is a little taken aback but happily surprised by his quick response. In her own way this was also a small test. A test to see if Eddie really liked you as much as you claimed he did. And she had gotten her answer. 

“Well, great!” she says, flashing him a polite smile and rising to her feet. “Be there by 10 o’clock sharp, and don’t forget to wear a costume!” 

Eddie doesn't have a chance to reply before Nancy turns on her heel and disappears back through the trees. 

Friday has finally come. 

And your stomach twists with every step you take toward the large house, the click of your heels on the sidewalk a far more steady rhythm than the beat of your own heart. Parties had never really been your thing and the only other one you’d managed to get invited to was at Steve’s house, back when he and Nancy were still together. 

So it was no surprise that you felt completely out of your element as you continued to strode up the darkened walkway. You can feel the bass pumping inside you before you even cross the threshold, wringing your hands together in a nervous manner. 

The air is thick with the smell of smoke and cheap beer, throngs of your peers in scantily clad costumes stumbling past you to the makeshift dance floor. No one spares you a passing glance as you take a step deeper into the hazy room, your own eyes seeking out your best friend. 

Her pale pink dress was surprisingly difficult to spot amongst the crowd, but it was Jonathan who you ended up spotting first. He looked out of place amongst the dancing teens, a dark blue suit hugging his shoulders as he leaned against the far wall of the living room. A pair of round sunglasses shielding his eyes. 

The Duckie to her Andie. 

Relief floods your chest as you begin to push through the crowd, the pounding bass echoing in your ears. Nancy looks surprised when she finally spots you, passing her drink to Jonathan before pulling you aside.

“Where’s the bunny costume?!” she shouts over the music, tugging at the sleeve of your cardigan.

“I couldn’t do it Nance,” you reply, wrapping your arms further around your middle. “It just wasn’t…me.”

And while you can see the clear disappointment written on her features, there’s a sparkle of understanding in her eyes. 

“Well, if you’re going to be a,” she pauses to look over your ensemble in its entirety. “…librarian,” she continues, “You at least need to be a sexy one.”

And without another word she’s pulling you into the nearest bathroom. When the door clicks shut behind her, she immediately gets to work. She reaches to untuck your button down shirt from your pleated skirt, popping open the buttons one by one to reveal the swell of your breasts.

You earn a small nod of approval when she sees you actually wore the push-up bra you had bought for your original costume. The brunette gives the lower half of your shirt the same treatment before tying it off with a knot right above your navel.

Lastly, Nancy hikes your skirt up a little higher up your hips and takes a step back to admire her handiwork.

“Perfection. There’s no way Eddie’s gonna be able to resist you like this.” She grins and you feel your palms begin to sweat.

“What do you mean? Eddie’s here?!”

Suddenly it all clicks into place. 

The real reason for why both her and Eddie were missing at lunch last Wednesday. Before you have a chance to question her any further, she’s fled the bathroom, her curly bob disappearing in the sea of drunken teens.

Damn her.

You take one last look in the mirror, fighting the urge to pull your cardigan tighter over your newly exposed skin when you rejoin the party. Your eyes scan the entirety of the room, in search of that tall lanky figure you’ve come to know all too well. 

To your dismay, Eddie is nowhere to be found. While you knew he wouldn’t be amongst the groups of people grinding against each other in the living room, you had expected him to be tucked in a corner somewhere—observing. 

You find yourself searching almost every inch of Tina’s large home and backyard, desperate to catch even a glimpse of him. And, unfortunately for you, instead of finding Eddie, you stumbled upon a couple getting hot and heavy in her parents bedroom. To which you quickly slammed the door shut and tried to scrub the image from your memory. 

You take those stairs back down to the main level slowly, disappointment weighing each of your steps. There was only one place you haven’t checked yet: the kitchen. And with your terrible success rate, a drink sounds too appealing to pass up. 

But once you cross through that open doorway, you stop dead in your tracks. Because there he is, in all his handsome glory—casually leaning against the kitchen counter with his arms crossed over his chest, a drink long abandoned next to him. 

Has he been here this whole time? 

While his expression borders on cynical, all of that shifts once your eyes meet. Eddie’s throat bobs, jaw slackening once you come into view. The set of plastic vampire fangs sitting between his teeth fall to the sticky tile floor with a soft clack. 

He has to practically wipe the drool from the corner of his mouth as you approach, straightening up and trying to look at anywhere other than the swell of your breasts.

“Hi,” you breathe softly.

But his answering smile has your knees about to buckle beneath you.

“Hello to you, sweetheart.”

Only then do your eyes flick downward, towards the t-shirt adorning his broad chest. And you let out a soft snort of amusement.

This is my Halloween costume is written in dark Sharpie against the bright orange cotton. The words are slanted and messy, as if he scribbled it on in a rush. It’s barely visible beneath the lapels of his leather jacket when he crosses his arm over his chest.

He quirks a brow at you. “What? Are you not impressed?” he muses with a teasing glint in his eye. “I thought it was quite clever, if I do say so myself.”

His smile widens at the soft giggles that bubble past your lips, leaning further back against the counter before motioning to your ensemble.

“And what exactly are you supposed to be then, hm?” He chuckles, as if it isn’t obvious.

But you feel your face warm, suddenly hyper aware of every inch of bare skin that’s now exposed to him when your hands fall to your sides.

“Uh… a librarian,” you reply, trying to muster up some feigned confidence.

Eddie’s eyes darken slightly as he takes in your bare midriff, tongue gliding over his lower lip in deep thought.

“So, I take it you’ve come to reprimand me for my overdue book fines?”

Feeling slightly emboldened, you take a small step closer, lightly nibbling on your lower lip to stifle another giggle. 

“I mean, rumor has it you’ve had that copy of The Hobbit checked out since your junior year…” you trail off, carefully pushing your glasses back up the bridge of your nose. “That’s an awful lot of fines, Eddie.” 

“My sincerest apologies, Miss,” he grins before placing a hand over his chest, those dark eyes alight with mischief. “Is there anything I can do to remedy this…misunderstanding?” 

You hum in contemplation, gently tapping a finger to your pouted lips—an action his eyes can’t help but follow. 

“Hm, perhaps…” you say before glancing over your shoulder toward the crowded living room. 

While dancing isn’t something you normally gravitate toward, something in you wants to try. Although it’s a silly high school milestone you never expected to experience, you don’t want it to pass you by either. Especially with Eddie by your side.

Maybe it’s the trickle of confidence that’s surging through your veins or the underlying adoration in his eyes, but either way, you reach out and lace your fingers together. 

“Dance with me?” 

Eddie doesn’t hesitate before he grasps onto your hand, a dimple indenting his cheek as he grins down at you. 

“I’d be honored, sweetheart.” 

It takes all of your self control to hold back a small squeal of excitement, quickly leading him out of the kitchen and towards the heart of the party. You’ve barely made it to the threshold before you feel it. 

Warmth. 

Wet, sticky warmth splashes up onto your neck, dribbles down your chin and onto your chest. Soaking into the white cotton of your shirt and sticking to your skin, the red punch does you no favors as the lace of your bra is revealed through the fabric.

“Oops,” a sickly sweet voice croons, but the unmistakable snark in their tone tells you this was anything but an accident.

Roxy Carraway just smirks at you, now glancing down at her empty cup with a mock pout. Two of her friends flank her on either side, keeping you frozen in place.

A gazelle caught between three lionesses, their claws sharpened and teeth bared.

“Now I need another drink,” she whines, snapping her gum obnoxiously. “You know, you really should watch where you’re going, freak.”

She hisses, taking one glance at you and then the male behind you before flipping her blonde hair off her shoulder and striding past you into the kitchen.

You don’t say anything as she knocks her shoulder into yours, white hot shame blazing through you as you meet the eyes of several other party goers. Whispers and snickers of laughter begin to flow through the crowd that were there to bear witness to the interaction.

No one offers you a shred of remorse or pity as they continue on, the thump of bass dragging their attention elsewhere. Tears began to sting your eyes, lower lip wobbling.

Don’t let them see you cry.

When you turn to rush toward the front door a pair of strong arms envelope you, tugging you down the darkened hallway and away from the throngs of your peers.

“Hey, hey—are you okay, sweetheart?”

Eddie’s voice is more gentle than you’ve ever heard it but a newfound rage begins to simmer beneath the warmth of his irises. When all he receives in response is a small shake of your head, he carefully tugs you both into the small bathroom you’d been shoved into earlier by Nancy.

Only this time any ounce of excitement has been drained from your limbs.

When your eyes meet your reflection, you wince, noting the harsh red liquid that clings to your shirt. The fabric suctions to you like a second skin and accentuates the curve of your breasts from the bra beneath. But not in a way that makes you feel a lick of confidence.

Before you can stare for too long, Eddie guides you to take a seat on the lid of the toilet, grabbing a washcloth and wetting it beneath the stream of water. His ringed fingers catch in the harsh lighting as he wrings the rag out into the basin of the sink. The droplets slide over the rough calluses of his fingers.

Eddie turns to you then, sinking to his knees before you. He gently nudges your thighs apart before slipping between them, the stray water droplets soaking into the fabric of your knee-high stockings. His hands are warm where they rest against your upper thigh, the other gently gliding the washcloth over your chin and down your throat.

Despite your best efforts to remain calm and collected, your breath hitches in your throat—something the male doesn’t miss.

While you can see the small smirk that threatens to tug at the corner of his mouth, he says nothing. No teasing comment as he continues to clean the dried punch from your skin.

“I’m sorry this happened,” he mutters softly, that small smile now turning downwards into a frown. “You didn’t deserve that.”

You can tell by the mournful look that spreads across his features that there’s more he wants to say, but he refrains.

That should’ve been me.

While the words remain unspoken between you, you hear them loud and clear.

“It’s not your fault you know,” you whisper, eyes dancing along the strong features of his face. Memorizing each freckle that dots along the bridge of his nose and cheekbones. “They probably would’ve found another way to torment me tonight anyway.”

His hand stills once he reaches the curve of your chest, eyes flicking up for your permission before he delves into uncharted territory. But you are unable to hide your shy smile at his display of nerves.

With your nod of approval, Eddie continues on, fingers trembling slightly when the cloth dips past the collar of your shirt. He can feel the heat of your skin through the damp fabric, his body aching to feel that warmth melting into his own. 

But he keeps his composure, shifting slightly at the uncomfortable ache in his knees. You continue to watch him closely, that look of longing he’s witnessed for months now sparkling beneath your irises. 

Your gaze continues to travel lower, over his cheekbones until they reach his full lips. They’re pursed in concentration, just the tip of his tongue poking out from between his teeth. He continues to glide the damp cloth along your skin, wiping away the sticky residue. 

But Eddie can feel the weight of your stare. In a nervous yet teasing gesture, he glides his tongue over his lower lip. 

“Would it be weird if I wanted you to kiss me right now?” you whisper.

Eddie’s eyes flick up to meet yours, fingers hovering over the dip between your breasts. He swallows harshly, your eyes following the bob of his throat. But the corner of his mouth quirks up into a soft grin that has your heart stuttering beneath your ribs. 

“I thought you’d never ask,” he replies, washcloth dropping to the tile floor as he reaches to cup your cheeks. 

When your lips meet, you breathe out a sigh of relief, slipping your arms around his neck to tug him impossibly closer. Despite your newfound urgency, his movements are slow, gentle as he molds his mouth over yours. Almost as if he’s trying to memorize the feeling of your lips against his own. 

Your hands quickly find themselves in his wild hair, twirling the dark strands around the tips of your fingers. He groans softly when your nails scratch against his scalp, the deep rumble of it sends warmth blossoming beneath the surface of your skin. 

And soon, too soon he’s pulling away. 

The male is practically panting, gazing up at you with an almost dazed expression. But Eddie soon notes the small pout that’s beginning to form on your lips, leaning forward to press another tender kiss to your mouth. 

“How about we ditch this lame ass party?” he mumbles against your lips, earning a small hum of approval from you.

And he can’t help but press another kiss to your awaiting mouth. “We could go to my place, maybe rent a video…” He chuckles when you pull him in for another firm kiss. “Order a pizza? Large pepperoni—” 

“With olives,” you add, gently nipping his lower lip. 

The male groans low in his throat, lips ghosting over the edge of your jaw. 

“Half with olives,” he counters. 

“Deal,” you breathe, giving him one more spine tingling kiss before he begrudgingly rises to his feet. 

And when he begins to slip his jacket off his shoulders, your brows furrow in confusion, head tilting in a silent question. He just gives you a cheeky grin as he reaches to hook his fingers into the nape of his t-shirt. The male quickly pulls it over his head, his bare chest now on full display.

Before you have time to fully ogle the dark ink that swirls across his skin, he hands you the bright orange shirt. You can already feel the warmth of the fabric seeping into the palm of your hands, confusion still evident on your face whilst he shrugs the jacket back on.  

“There’s no way I’m letting those assholes get the last laugh, sweetheart,” he explains, motioning to your stained shirt. 

And your heart thuds at the implication, a half smile tugging at your lips. You eagerly slip the cardigan off your shoulders, reaching for the buttons on your blouse. You let out a soft giggle when Eddie quickly spins on his heel in an attempt to give you some privacy. 

Once you remove the ruined blouse, you gladly toss it in the wastebasket, slipping the borrowed shirt over your head. His scent hits you like a tidal wave, warm and spicy with a slight undertone of weed. It’s a smell you want to wrap yourself up in for days, have it imprinted on your skin forever.

You take another subtle whiff before you clear your throat and rise to your feet. The movement further closes the already short distance between you. 

“I’m decent,” you say finally.

You’re unable to hide your amusement when he turns around so quickly that he almost crashes straight into you. But his look of concern vanishes the moment your laughter rings in his ears, securing his arms around your waist. 

“What’s so funny, sweet thing?” he chuckles, head tilting down toward you. His wandering gaze now focused on your lips. 

“I thought you said we had to stop meeting like this, Eddie.” 

series taglist: @sheneedsrocknroll92 @blckbrrybasket @your-nightmaredoll @missmarch-99 @fandom-princess-forevermore @mylovelycrazyworld @princesssunderworld @scarlet-bitch @thecreelhouse @vamp-bunny @notwantingtoadult @keeksandgigz @josephquinnsfreckles

[odinsblog]

Worth re-reading

Rule No. 1: Believe the autocrat. I argued against the expectation that Trump would change in the months following the election, becoming somehow “Presidential” and abandoning his more extreme positions. This belief, it seemed to me, stemmed from the inability to absorb the fact of a Trump Presidency, and not from any historical precedents of similar transformations. The best predictors of autocrats’ and aspiring autocrats’ behavior are their own public statements, because these statements brought them to power in the first place.

Rule No. 2: Do not be taken in by small signs of normality. Most catastrophes unfold over time. Following the shock of a disastrous election—or a Presidential tweet—the sun rises again in the morning, and life appears to proceed as before. One adjusts, until the next shocking event.

Rule No. 3: Institutions will not save you. During the election campaign, one often heard the argument that institutions of American democracy are strong enough to withstand attack by Trump. A year ago, I pointed out that many of these institutions are not enshrined in law—rather, they exist as norms—and even those that are enshrined in law depend for their continued survival on the good faith of all actors. There is no law, for example, guaranteeing daily press briefings at the White House and media access to these briefings. I predicted that the investigative press would be weakened and that reality would grow murkier.

Rule No. 4: Be outraged. If you follow the first three rules, you ought to be outraged. But I know from experience how hard it is to be the hysteric in the room.

A year on, progress is mixed. Activist groups like New York City’s Rise and Resist, founded by alumni of the aids-activist organization act up, stage regular, vivid, act up–style actions. On the occasion of the first anniversary of the election, they vowed to begin weekly demonstrations demanding impeachment. The A.C.L.U. continues to file lawsuits; late-night comedians continue to amplify the painful absurdity of Trumpism. On the other hand, Washington has absorbed Trump, and so has the Republican Party. (It’s the other party whose national organization is imploding these days.) No single event or revelation has produced enough outrage to cause Trump to be removed from office, nor has one seemed to hurt his chances for reëlection. Not Charlottesville. Not the revelation of a Trump Tower meeting with a Russian lawyer who promised to deliver dirt on Hillary Clinton. Not the regular revelations of past acts of corruption and of current lies. Not the continued spectacle of a government of haters and incompetents. The outrage dissipates, and Trumpism persists.

Rule No. 5: Don’t make compromises. I predicted that Republican Never Trumpers would fold and offer their loyalty to the new President. I also feared that a great many federal employees would face an impossible choice between staying in their jobs under a reprehensible Administration and leaving, forfeiting the chance to do good within a system that had started rotting from the top. Trump’s attacks on the institutions of government have been so fast and brutal, however, that many people made the choice without torment: they left. (Remember the President’s arts and humanities committee? Or the business advisory councils?) Still, a few people remain in what’s left of the State Department; some people have joined the Administration with the explicit goal of using their expertise to help minimize damage. But to watch General McMaster struggling to mislead journalists on Trump’s behalf is to see the built-in problem with the project of minimizing damage: one inevitably becomes an accomplice.

Rule No. 6: Remember the future. There will come a time after Trump. What will we bring to it? I wrote that the failure to imagine the future—to offer a vision in opposition to Trump’s appeal to an imaginary past—had cost the Democrats the election. A year later, the national Democratic Party does not seem closer to proposing a vision (or a candidate); instead, the last week has seen the Party plunged into a vicious re-litigation of the 2016 primaries.

(full article here)

[ballroamblitz]

caramel pie | J.P

summary: james smells caramel pie on the amortentia potion

james potter x fem!reader

word count: 3.750 content: teeth rotting fluff, angst warnings: crying, reader blushes notes: one thing about me is i love me some amortentia fic with a side of james fluff ughh also i listened to glue song by beabadoobee while writing this :) p.s i accidentally posted this on my side acc so if anyone wanna be mutuals my main blog is @beastofbrden :)

- Someone please, kindly remind me why I decided that continuing Herbology after the O.W.Ls was a good idea? - Y/N huffed out, sitting at the Gryffindor table for lunch.

The four boys sitting around her laughed. 

- Learned a lot today, uh? - Sirius asked, ironically. 

- Oh yeah, loads! We had to feed toad flesh to those terrible toad-eating plants. For some reason, mine just didn't feel like eating it without regurgitating it all back on me! 

The boys went hysterics, and even the girl couldn't help but laugh along. 

- There's still a little piece there - James pointed. - Here, let me take it out for you.

He took out a small chunk of toad flesh off her hair. 

- Well, may I remind you, Y/N, that no one told you to keep up with Herbology. We all dipped from it while we could and no one else has pieces of toad on our hair - Sirius noted, clearly getting a good laugh out of the girl's toad disaster.

- I just didn't want to hurt Sprout's feelings! 

She sighed and brushed her hair with her fingers, only then looking at the food in front of her.

- Merlin, I'm starving! Could eat anything right now.

- Even toad? - Remus joked, sending the group on another laughing crisis.

By the time of dessert, Y/N started scanning the table for something. Clearly not finding it, her panic started showing. 

- Oh no. Where's the caramel pie? 

- They didn't serve any today - James replied, needing all the strength on his body to stay deadpanned. The other three boys were deep in conversation, and him being the one sitting closer to Y/N (as always) only he noticed the girl's agitation. 

- What??? What do you mean they didn't serve any? In the six years I've been here they never not served it and I can't believe they chose today to…

- I'm just joking - James pulled a plate that was hidden behind the steak pudding, smiling playfully at the girl - Saved it for ya.

- James! I would go mad if they stopped serving this pie, y'know! - she let out a relieved breath. 

- Nah, don't worry. They will keep serving it, or I would fight the elfs for ya. 

- One day I’ll hide your figgy pudding, then we’ll see.

- You wouldn’t dare, missy.

James watched with a soft look on his eyes as the girl took the first bite of her favorite dessert.

- Thank you for saving me a piece, Jamie - she leaned her head on his shoulder for a moment to show gratitude. When she got closer, he smelled the vanilla scent of her hair and the caramel pie on her lips.

After lunch, the five went straight to Slughorn's classroom. 

- Good evening, dears, good evening! Now if you could get up and get closer, I want to show you something!

The whole class shifted near the table Slughorn was sitting behind. 

- Here, we have a very special potion. - He pointed towards a bubbling caldron full of a crystal clear liquid - Very tricky to make, very characteristic and perhaps one of the most dangerous we can brew. Can anyone tell me it's name?

Y/N's hand rose in the air.

- Yes, ms. Y/L/N. 

- It's Amortentia, or simply the love potion. Since true love can't really be produced by any sort of magic, it causes more of a crush or an obsession. 

- Correct. Ten points to Gryffindor! - Slughorn smiled.

- Nerd - James whispered,  messing up Y/N’s hair.

- Sod off, Potter.

- You see, one of the most intriguing things about Amortentia is its scent. Everyone smells something different, because its scent is completely dependent on what each person feels personally attracted to. Now, who wants to come forward and tell me what it smells like? 

No one volunteered. No wonder, since it's a very particular thing to simply say in front of a whole classroom.

- No one? I'll pick someone then. Let me think... - Slughorn scanned the faces around. - Ah! Mr. Potter, you will do. 

James was caught by surprise. He had been distracted by the warmth radiating off Y/N, that was almost resting her head on his chest. 

- Me? - he asked and pointed towards himself.

- Of course you! Is there any other Mr. Potter?

The whole class laughed as James stepped closer, his signature boyish grin splashed on his face. 

- Now Mr. Potter, lean in and smell the potion.

James ran his hands through his hair and did as told. One single sniff and his smile fell off his face completely. The scent was unmistakable: vanilla and caramel pie. Vanilla body cream, caramel pie for dessert, everyday. He had the urge to see if Y/N wasn't standing next to him, but he knew she hadn't moved from across the table. He knew he had to lie. If he said what it smelled like to him, everyone would know it was Y/N's smell.  

- So, Mr. Potter. Whenever you are ready to share. 

He looked at where Y/N was. She was looking at him, just as well as everyone else. She looked relaxed, the potion's glow making her look specially pretty, angel-like. Think of something, fast. Something not at all related to what you are really smelling, something like...

- It’s wood and broomstick polisher.

- Very well then Mr. Potter. Looks like you've got a thing for Quidditch, uh?

The class laughed, and everyone looked convinced. James Potter, Quidditch captain, smelling broomstick polisher and wood? Fitting. James high-fived himself for his quick thinking, and let out a relieved sight. Now, no one would go around thinking the wrong things. 

Later that night, in the common room, however, the potions class was almost burning a hole through James' head. Slughorn said Amortentia smelled of what attracted each person the most.  Attraction was romantic, sexual attraction. But Slughorn had been pretty vague, hadn't he? He could've meant attraction in any context. It could mean anything. It could mean platonic love, right? If Slughorn didn't think much of James smelling Quidditch, it probably meant it could smell of anything the person liked a lot, right? But it was a love potion. That caused passion. And Slughorn said he had a thing for Quidditch. A thing. But he didn't have a thing for Y/N! He loved her, of course. Everyone knew she was his best friend, they did everything together and she was probably his favorite person in the world. Yeah, maybe he went to extreme lengths to see her happy, and yeah, maybe he was a bit too affectionate with her, but she was his best friend.

- Can't do homework anymore. - James was ripped off his thoughts by Y/N's presence. She threw her backpack at the ground in front of the sofa he was in and layed down - My brain feels like mush.

James looked at her. Her head was resting on his lap, and she looked extremely comfortable. That was obvious, since they always had been this affectionate towards each other. They both were very touchy people, and it felt natural to be in constant physical contact. James was always happy, eager even, to be like this with her. In a platonic way. Obviously. Today, however, her skin on his felt like it burned. 

- How was it? - James asked, coughing to conceal the way his voice failed a bit in the first word.

- Homework? Awful. It's not that difficult, but it's too much. And it just seems pointless, you know? What will I actually learn from writing 19 inches about toad eating plants? Nothing, I tell you what! - The girl sighed and closed her eyes again - Just wanna go to sleep, really.

He didn't know what to answer. He normally would have made a joke about the plants, added more criticism about essays or something. But he didn’t even do his homework, with how paranoid he was. For the first time ever, he was completely speechless in her presence. Her eyelashes were resting peacefully on her pink cheeks. The light from the fireplace made her skin look more flushed, and her hair had a golden glow to it. She looked awfully pretty. James knew that, of course. She had always been pretty. But tonight.. when she moved her head a little bit, he smelled the amortentia smell. Vanilla and caramel pie, just as strong as it was that afternoon. 

- You are way too quiet today, Jamie. - She opened her eyes and he felt something weird in the pit of his stomach  - Ate too much pudding? 

- Yeah, probably. 

She stretched and yawned, sending another wave of vanilla and caramel pie to James' nostrils. 

- Going to bed - she got up. Her hair was messy and the light from the fireplace behind her looked like a halo. - Night, Jamie.

She lowered herself and pecked his cheek lightly. 

- Sleep well - her soft voice was way too close to his ear, turning James' legs into jelly. 

He watched her going up the stairs to the dormitory, and the place she had kissed burned long after she was gone. 

He had no reason to be this nervous for the potions class the next morning. Slughorn had already moved on from amortentia, since it was a difficult, dangerous and time-consuming potion to make, but James was half hoping the potion would be brought up again, and half hoping everyone would collectively forget about it completely. Slughorn didn't mention the potion again, moving on directly to Felix Felicis. He watched the whole class on the edge of his seat. He had decided he would ask the teacher about the potion just to calm himself down. Just to make sure. Everyone had been really concentrating on making the best draught of living death the whole period, but James just wanted the class to end so he could ask Slughorn and stop eating himself alive.  

- Alright, alright. Congratulations mr. Snape on your draught. Truly outstanding! - Slughorn said, raising a round of applause - Class dismissed!

Everyone started to gather their backpacks and leave, but James made sure to stay back. He pretended to be very interested in a weird type of algae that Slughorn kept in a little ampoule. Just a few more moments and then he'll say that no, I don't have romantic feelings for Y/N and that i just really like caramel pie or something, and then i'll stop going mental... 

- Gillyweed. - Slughorn’s voice dragged James off of his daydreams 

- Uh? - James frowned in confusion, wondering what the teacher was talking about.

- The algae you're looking at, Mr. Potter. Gillyweed. Helps the person breathe underwater. 

- Oh, yeah, right. Professor Slughorn, I was wondering if I could ask you something.

- Sure, my boy, ask away - Slughorn encouraged while distractingly stacking some parchments.

- I was wondering… about the Amortentia potion.

Slughorn stopped his movements and lifted his eyes directly to James. 

- Oh, I see - He looked very amused, for some reason. - What were you wondering?

- Let's just say a friend of mine smells it and it reminds him of someone. It could smell like someone he just truly cares about, couldn't it? Like, it doesn't necessarily mean he's in love with the person that the scent reminds him of, right? 

Slughorn's lopsided smile grew bigger.

- I'm afraid, no, my boy. 

- What? - James felt like the classroom got three times smaller and hotter by the minute - But I smelled wood and polishing oil, and I'm not in love with a broom, am i? 

- Mr. Potter, Mr. Potter... - Slughorn chuckled. - I think we both know you didn't smell any of that. 

James felt his face getting warm and red. 

- But, if you did, that would mean you have a crush on a Quidditch player, let's just put it like that. Amortentia is a very strong love potion, and we can only smell things in it that romantically attract us very deeply. Those of us that aren't in love with anyone would smell something quite abstract. But if this friend of yours smelled amortentia and recognized the scent as someone's, then boy do I have news for him. Does this answer your question? 

      - Hm, yeah, sure. - James agreed. He felt like he was gonna fall down from the absurd speed at which his mind was racing. - Thank you, Professor.

- Anytime. - James began to leave, completely out of it. - Oh, and Mr. Potter?

- Yes? - James turned around, hopeful that Slughorn would start laughing and admit he was joking.

- Tell your friend I wish him the best of luck with this new, blossoming love. 

As James went out of the classroom and up into the common room, he deeply regretted not stealing that ampoule of gillyweed and swallowing it whole. That way, he could spend the rest of his days in the black lake with the merpeople. I bet amortentia wouldn't smell like anything down there, he thought. 

For the rest of the week, James spent every waking hour trying to not think about what Slughorn said and what it meant, and he was succeeding. He kept himself busy with classes, Quidditch and even homework. He also did his absolute best to avoid everyone. He ate before anyone else and made sure he was far away from the great hall by the time he knew Y/N and the rest of the Marauders would go down to eat. In classes, he sat very distant and left early. He even pulled some pranks he didn't even feel like pulling on Filch to get detention in the nights he couldn't schedule Quidditch practices. He walked the halls in the invisibility cloak. Anything to keep his thoughts away from the big fire alarm going off inside his head. The only problem was that he missed Y/N in all of those moments. When he was doing homework, he missed the sound of Y/N's pen scratching the parchment next to him. While he ate, he missed the warmth of her body next to his, the satisfaction humming while she ate her pie . He missed laying down together after homework. He missed seeing her on the stands at practice. He even realized that the real fun in pranks wasn't the actual thing, but to see Y/N laughing hysterically afterwards. To put it quite simply, it felt like he was sleep walking all the time. He couldn’t go on avoiding her forever, but what he was gonna do, he had positively no idea.

Until Friday night.

It was late, and he had been in detention. Filch had made him write “I shall not turn the school’s trophies into pigeons” a hundred times, and his hand was hurting from all the repetitive writing. Normally, he would have complained, but this time, he was glad for the distraction. Enjoying detention, he thought bitterly while crossing the fat lady, I must be really going mad. His grouchy thoughts were interrupted by a sound. It sounded like.. crying. Or better yet, it sounded like someone was sobbing their heart out. He looked around the empty common room, but didn’t see anyone. He followed the sound to the sofa near the fireplace, where he and Y/N always rest after studying. Before you turned into a chicken. 

Y/N was laid on the sofa, her face buried in a cushion, her whole body shaking with her sobs. James was flooded with panic.

- Y/N, baby, what happened? - he cooed, his voice altered with anxiety. Y/N never cried, except when something very serious happened.

Y/N looked up like she thought she was seeing visions. 

- Jamie? - her voice was soft and shaky, her eyes were puffy and bloodshot red, like she had been crying for multiple hours. The hurt on her eyes broke James’ heart in a thousand pieces. 

His mind raced with possibilities: maybe someone was mean to her? Maybe someone died? Maybe she was hurt? The thought of her being in pain panicked him even further. He sat down and pushed her into his lap, laying her head on his shoulder. 

- Are you hurt, baby? Where does it hurt? Please, tell me. 

She cried violently on his shoulder. He inspected her legs for bruises, but she seemed well physically. 

- Y/N, tell me what’s wrong, I can’t stand to see you like this - he begged. -  Did someone hurt you?

The question seemed to trigger something on the girl, because suddenly she was on her feet, out of his arms. 

- Did someone hurt me? Seriously? - the tears streamed down her face, but her eyes glimmered with something new: anger.

James was confused, to say the least. He noticed that she was wearing one of his old sweaters, one that had vanished from his suitcase a few weeks ago. 

- Baby...- he begged some more.

She looked as if he had twisted a knife on her wound.

- Don’t you dare “baby” me, James. Not after ignoring me like the plague for a whole week! 

Oh. Oh. James had been so involved with his own confusion regarding the amortentia incident that he forgot almost completely that Y/N didn’t know what he was doing, or why. She was crying because he hurt her feelings. That was a lot worse than if she was crying because of another person: he could’ve gone out to kick said jerk’s ass. But if he hurt her, what was he supposed to do? Punch himself? 

-Y/N - he cooed, apologetically. - Y/N, I…

She showed him her palm, urging him to stop talking.

- You don’t have to explain wanting to be away from me. I’m sure you had your reasons. But you could have at least told me that you wanted some space from me, or something, because I’ve been miserable, and…

She thought he wanted space from her. The sorrowful shaky breath that escaped her lips mid-sentence threw him over the edge. 

- No, no, no… - he repeated while pushing her back into his lap - Oh my god, Y/N, no…

He caressed her hair while she sobbed violently on his shoulder. Her fists were closed tightly on his shirt, her tears dampened his neck, and he couldn’t recall the last time his heart ached this badly.

- Did I do something? Did I bother you? I’m so sorry.. - she whispered softly, like she was voicing what had been repeating in her head over and over again during the last few days. Her words were laced with anger, resentment, but, above all, hurt. He wanted to double over in pain.

- Listen - James lifted her chin up gently, forcing her to look into his eyes. - I’m the one who’s sorry. 

The tears kept coming, but she was listening.

- I shouldn’t have avoided you last week, and it’s not your fault, okay? It’s my fault. I’m the one who got scared. 

She looked confused.

- Scared? Of me? 

James would have to confess what happened at Slughorn’s class. He had given zero thought about his messy feelings, and even though unraveling them in front of Y/N scared him endlessly, he would have to do it, because he could never let her think that he wanted space from her. That he wanted anything but to be close to her, at all times, if he could. 

- Please - she asked, incisively, noticing his wariness. - Tell me.

He took a deep breath, feeling vulnerable, raw. As if he would undress himself fully in front of her.

- Remember Slughorn’s class about amortentia? - Y/N nodded, encouraging him to move on - He asked me to smell it, right, and I…

- You said it smelled like broom polisher. 

- Well, yes. But I lied. - he decided to avert his gaze to the ceiling, or else he would never talk. - It was caramel pie and vanilla cream. So, I smelled… you.

Silence. A moment, two. He couldn’t muster the courage to look at the girl. He felt her hand grazing his cheek, urging him to look at her.. 

- Jamie… - She looked wonderstruck, and his heart seemed like it wanted out of his chest - Really?

- Really.

James was sure he’d never seen something as beautiful as Y/N after his response. She was smiling the biggest, most shiny smile he had ever seen on her face. Her eyes shined like gemstones at him, so soft he wanted to cry.

- Do you want to know what I smelled? - she asked, soft as a feather. 

His heart somersaulted when she brought her face closer to the side of his neck. She whispered on his ear:

- I smelled… - She sniffed his neck once - Sandalwood - another sniff, followed by a chuckle  - Broomstick polisher…

She distanced herself, looking deep into his eyes.

- And homework parchment. And fireplace naps. And figgy pudding.

His heart was hammering against his ribcage. Y/N smelled him. On the amortentia potion. Him.

- Y/N - James whispered, all warm and fuzzy on the inside. - Really?

She didn’t answer, just grabbed his hand, the warmth and softness of her skin overwhelming his senses. Placed his hand on top of the point of her chest where her heart was. Through the fabric of his shirt, he could feel her heart beating faster than a hummingbird's. She never unglued her soft eyes from his. 

She likes him. Suddenly, all the thoughts he had been avoiding throughout the week came crashing down on him, like a dam.

James was an affectionate friend. He liked physical touch. But he never liked it half as much as he did with her. James was a thoughtful friend. He remembered things about his friends. But he remembered every single thing about her. He was a sensitive friend. He hated to see his friends suffering. But every time he saw her cry, it was like his heart was being crushed. James was an attentive friend. He loved spending time with friends. But when he was away from her, he couldn’t even function properly, like he was missing one half of him. Y/N is his best friend. But she is more, too. He loves her. But there’s something else: he is in love.  Amortentia never lies, after all.

When his hands tangled on Y/N’s hair, he smelled vanilla cream. When he kissed Y/N’s lips, he tasted caramel pie.

[mikaela-the-slut-expert]

Hi! Can I request a Hua Cheng x bottom male reader x Xie Lian one shot? Maybe that the three of them are already in a relationship together. And maybe when they all go to Qi Rong's (the black water calamity) lair to kill him in that one chapter/episode, Before they start fighting Qi Rong starts flirting with reader and it makes HuaLian jealous as fuck. And so when they defeat him they drag reader back to the Puqi Shrine and reminds him who he belongs too 🤭

Also if possible can you make it smut?

Feel free to delete this ask if you want tho!

Look At Me

Hua Cheng x M!reader x Xie Lian

Sorry it took so long I'm still in school guys 😞 at first I was confused because I thought you were talking about He Xuan because I was sure he was the black water calamity

I forgot the prince's name guys

I made up connections for Qi Rong and reader

Ignore grammar mistakes

Slight ooc?

Smut ahead!!!

____________________________________

They knew it wasn't going to be easy, nor was it going to feel good. Hua Cheng has meant to find Qi Rong, reveal the truth to Lan Qin Qao, and continue on with their lives. Well, he just wanted to beat the shit out of Qi Rong for what he did to Xie Lian.

All of you went to Qi Rong's lair, and watched Hua Cheng beat Qi Rong's face into the ground. Then you all got to listen to the truth about the banquet. So far so good. 'good' is an emotional ride for everyone there. But that was the whole point anyways.

Everything was going as planned, in Hua Cheng's book anyways. Until Qi Rong started slandering Hua Cheng and Xie Lian. He started yelling about how Hua Cheng was Xie Lian's dog, and how Xie Lian is so pure he must've been blinded by it.

You have a deep past with Xie Lian, and a relationship with both men so of course you aren't happy to hear these things. Especially from Qi Rong. You used to be close with him, of course you were. He was Xie Lian's cousin so obviously you would've met him. Now look at Qi Rong. It was truly pitiful.

You were upset by the words Qi Rong was saying, he used to be such a good child for you. The things he was saying weren't fair to your lovers, you also didn't want to see Qi Rong get beat up anymore. Xie Lian and Hua Cheng already had a go at him.

"Qi Rong you've grown to have such a vulgar tongue, please be quiet." You weren't going to hit anyone, you're too sweet for that, so you could only ask him nicely. It's the first thing you've said since you've been here. You haven't said anything, rather staying quiet instead. You just didn't want things to escalate further.

You hadn't expected it to work, Qi Rong is. . . Unstable, to put it nicely. Plus he hasn't looked at you this whole time you doubt he remembers you at all. It's been so long.

Qi Rong snaps his head towards you and his giggling dies down. "Y/n? Y/n is it really you? What a wonderful reunion this is!" Even though Qi Rong had just been upset about 'people throwing a party in his lair'.

"Come closer, come closer I want to see your face y/n. It seems you've been by my high and mighty cousin all this time." He grins widely. You don't reply to that, you don't know what to say. You had gone to step forward though, to allow Qi Rong to see your face after all these years.

Xie Lian stopped you though. Where he usually is so hesitant to touch you has been thrown away, he pulls you by the elbow, behind him now. Xie Lian doesn't know why he does it. Anger? Jealousy? Selfishness? Protectiveness? Hostility? Who knows but he knows that him and Hua Cheng will lose it if Qi Rong dares to spit harmful words towards you.

But Qi Rong doesn't. He does the contrary, as if Qi Rong had really missed you. As if he had a right to your person. He laughs, finding it hysterical how Xie Lian pulls you behind him. How his big cousin is selfish even though he acts like the most selfless person to ever breathe. "Hahaha! Look at you big cousin! Look, look! You've always been selfish! Selfish!" He laughs and laughs against the ground.

Qi Rong looks at you, what he can see peaking over Xie Lian's shoulder anyways. "Y/n, Y/n I've missed you over these 800 years. You must've been blinded by big cousin's light too! His pureness and selflessness right?! You should come with me instead. I miss Y/n's pretty face I haven't seen it in so long!" And he dares to try and reach a hand to your robes.

You don't know if he's being honest in his words or if he's saying it to piss off your lovers. You wouldn't put it past him. "Qi Rong please" you hiss through your teeth. You had been so focused on Xie Lian that you had completely forgotten about the seething ghost behind you.

Hua Cheng's devotion to Xie Lian is admirable and his devotion to you is the same. Qi Rong very quickly finds his face being slammed into the ground again. It's a very gruesome sight and you didn't enjoy it all. Hiding behind Xie Lian and covering your ears as Qi Rong continues to roll your name over his tongue.

Things pass, and tensions increase. Eventually leading to Qi Rong being cut in half and thrown into boiling liquids. Even though Xie Lian drags you off, you can't help but stare where Qi Rong was thrown.

Once the three of you are out of the lair, you're all interrupted by Shi Qingxuan and Feng Xin. Feng Xin wants the two of you to come back to the heavens. To come home. He demands it actually, threatening Hua Cheng with his bow and arrow. Shi Qingxuan stops him though. You and Xie Lian get pulled behind Hua Cheng.

Once things smooth over with them and Hua Cheng bullies Feng Xin with blood rain, you were expecting to go back to the heavens with Xie Lian. The two of you do need to get up there and explain everything that has happened. Xie Lian and Hua Cheng decide differently though. Instead you're dragged off and your lovers are eerily silent, seething quietly. You don't know what to say, because you don't know why they're upset. So you don't say anything you let them drag you along.

They've taken you to Puqi shrine. You can only assume that maybe after such a tiring day, that everyone is missing home. Maybe your lovers just want to spend a few hours with you and have some peace. To make what happened earlier a distant memory. Your mind is quickly changed.

Your assumptions prove wrong when Xie Lian drags you through the door and shoves you down on the mat. "H-hey! What is wrong with you?" You look away. Xie Lian grips your jaw and snaps your gaze back towards him. "Look at me, don't look away again" Xie Lian has never treated you so roughly. You've known him a long time and he's always treated you carefully. Not even in bed does he usually dare to treat you so hard.

You try to gain your balance, and to get off of the floor. You're quickly pulled back by your shoulders and your back meets Hua Cheng's chest. Leaving you between your two, seething lovers. And you? You poor, oblivious thing. You don't even understand why.

"A-Lian, San Lang! Why are you acting like this!?" You're left with no answer besides Xie Lian practically tearing at your robes and San Lang pinning your back against his chest. He's not giving you the chance to move away. Not that you would anyhow.

Hua Cheng being angry, and upset is nothing new. It's concerning sometimes but he tends to pout a lot so you expect it. Seeing Xie Lian angry, is frightening. Well, not exactly but you haven't seen him angry in a long time but he's never been angry with you. Ever.

You're stripped quickly, and your hands shoot out to Xie Lian's face. Holding his face in your hands, making him look at you, forcing him to pause in his ministrations. "A-Lian, what's wrong?"

Xie Lian's brow furrows and he lets out a shaky breath. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry y/n" he huffs softly and holds your wrist. He moves his face to the side and kisses your palm. "Qi Rong was right I am selfish. I am, I shouldn't be but I can help it. But I'm selfish for good reasons" he moves closer, nipping at your neck. His usual soft kisses, become possessive bites.

"I have a right to claim you, to touch you. You're mine. You're San Lang's. You're ours" he hisses through his teeth and he bites your shoulder hard. His hands roam while he talks, spreading your legs and his oiled fingers prod at your hole. Where did he get a bottle of oil? When did he even do that?

San Lang makes himself busy by kissing you and shoving his tongue down your throat. Stealing your breath as if it were his. Not that he needs to breathe.

Xie Lian continues, "But what right does he have to claim you? To try and take you away from me, from us?" Xie Lian growls out, and presses fingers up against your prostate. It didn't take long for him to find it, he's explored you many times. It causes you to arch against San Lang's chest and moan into his mouth.

Xie Lian doesn't feel like being nice today though because his fingers continue to rub and curl up against your prostate. You squirm against them both, moans being ripped out of you by Xie Lian nimble fingers. "A-Lian, A-Lian, please~!"

San Lang bullies you too, making you dizzy from his kisses and his forces your legs apart. He's encouraging Xie Lian to bully you. San Lang is good in bed and Xie Lian is usually obedient, but Xie Lian getting out of his shell to bully you? San Lang enjoys it thoroughly.

One of his hands wraps around your dick and he strokes you, he only makes it worse. The two take out their frustrations on you, leaving you to mumble their names. With both of them bullying your front and back, it's not long until your cumming. A long moan spills from your lips and your legs try to clamp shut. San Lang doesn't let them though.

You double over and heave a breath when they don't stop. Xie Lian bullies your prostate and San Lang moves his fingers faster around your dick. It quickly puts you into overstimulation and pretty tears drip from your eyes. "No, no, slow down~" You whine, and your legs shake into San Lang's hold.

"Tell us who's you are then" San Lang purrs in your ear. Another orgasm is forced out of you and you babble some more. "Xie Lian d-does, San Lang too. Please!" You squeal from the pleasure.

Those words are forced out of you many times that night, because they don't intend to let you get away so soon. They bully you for the rest of the night and when you show up in the heavens the next day you have a slight limp. The other officials are worried you were injured by Hua Cheng, but it was both Xie Lian and Hua Cheng who made you cry on their cocks.

____________________________________

I hope you like it 😁🙏🖤🖤

[hellodropbear]

Drawing.

mapi leon x ingrid engen x child

this is based off two requests so I hope you enjoy!

please keep sending requests I’m loving writing them :)

~~~~~~

Elena was with Camila when it happened, completely unaware of what was happening down on the training pitch. 

She had been drawing all day, a new hobby she had picked up, trying to copy Mapi as she sketched in her notepad. 

And as usual, Isabel wanted to be just like her Mami, so she had picked up a dropped pencil and started drawing on a receipt she found on the floor. 

Ingrid would have thought she had found the new Picasso, the way Mapi was cheering. 

"My baby is an artist!" It was the first time Isabel had drawn without being prompted. It was a circle on the receipt, with lots of lines in the middle, but Mapi couldn't have been prouder. 

Isabel lived off Mapi's pride so she told Camila she wanted to practice her drawing that day and they had done just that, sat in the same spot - shaded from the sun but still outside - and drawing since she had been dropped off. 

Isabel had just finished a drawing when it happened, although she had no idea, holding up the page and waving it in front of her babysitter to see. 

"It's me! And Mami and Ingrid!" She pointed at the yellow blob with four legs. "And this is the puppy I want! I asked santa for a puppy this year, Camila."

Camila smiled, staring at the page intently. 

"It's so good, Isabel! You're getting so good!"

She smiled proudly, trying to stop herself from grinning to much but entirely unable to shake off how good she felt from the praise. 

"Thank you, Camila." She replied quietly, swinging her legs beneath her on the seat. "Your drawing is good too!"

The blonde looked down at her own piece of paper, somehow the cat she had been drawing was worse than the toddler's sketch of her family. She laughed, shaking her head. 

"Not as good as yours though."

Isabel blushed awkwardly, not wanting to be rude but also not wanting to lie. 

"We are both good." She nodded, proud of her decision to say that. 

~~~~~~

Mapi had fallen harshly, hitting the ground with a deafening thud after landing awkwardly on her knee. 

The scream she released was almost chilling and the training field fell silent immediately, time stopping as the medics raced over to the groaning defender. 

It was the most pain she had ever been in, physically, and she had given birth to a full child not long ago. It was excruciating and she couldn't stop the tears in her eyes from slipping down her cheeks and onto the grass. 

She winced as they poked and prodded at her knee, quickly coming to the conclusion that she would not be walking off the pitch and getting out the stretcher to get her to the medical room. 

It was as she was being lifted that she saw both Ingrid and Alexia standing over her, worry etched deep into their features. Their worry made Mapi feel sick to her stomach, because it meant there was actually something wrong. 

It wasn't just in her head like she had been silently praying for. It was real. 

The prospect of missing out on another chunk of her career was almost sickening, and the thought of having to go through that intensive physiotherapy program after a knee injury was almost worse. 

But nobody had mentioned an acl yet, so she thought she was ok. 

Surely there aren't many other serious knee injuries that can take you out for so long, right?

Except Frido had a knee surgery not three months ago and she is far off her return. And there are so many other people who have had knee injuries that aren't acls - injuries that have forced them to retire. 

She banished the word from her mind as soon as it appeared. It wouldn't be that bad, surely?

But as much as she tried, the thought that it might be the end simply would not leave her brain, taunting her as she became more and more hysterical in the physio bed. 

It was only when she was loaded up into the ambulance that she began to question the whereabouts of her daughter, wondering why she hadn't been brought over as soon as Mapi had asked. 

The staff said they would sort it out, only one of them stepping into the ambulance with Mapi, the rest hanging back at the facility as the ambulance drove away, an inconsolable Mapi laying in the back. 

"It's just a knee, please, just go back and get Isabel!" 

They had shaken their heads, apologising and telling her that she would see the toddler soon. 

~~~~~~

She was confused when it was Alexia who accompanied Ingrid to come get her, because usually Mapi was the first person she saw when their training was over and they could go home. 

She was confused by the look on their faces, almost anxious, both looking sad. 

"Hey Is." Alexia ruffled her hair as she put her pencils down, observing the pictures in front of her. 

"Where's Mami? I want to show her my drawings!"

She brandished two of the pieces of paper towards the blonde, who smiled sadly and knelt down beside her goddaughter. 

"Mami fell over in training today." 

Isabel frowned. 

"Mami always falls over! It's so silly, Ale, she's always on the ground!" 

Her frown was quickly replaced by giggles, picturing her mother falling over all the time, something she would usually laugh about after the game. 

Alexia nodded, her smile diminishing. 

"It was a bad fall, Is, Mami had to go to the hospital."

The toddler's face switched again, back to her frown. The hospital is big and scary, where you go when you're really really sick or really really injured. 

People die in the hospital, when they're sick enough to be taken there. 

Her lip trembled. 

"Is Mami dying?" 

She started to whimper and Alexia was quick to draw her into a hug. 

"No! No, Mami is going to be ok, Isa, she just has a sore knee! She will be completely fine soon, she just wants to see you."

Isabel nodded, sniffling quietly. 

"Can we see Mami?"

She looked up at Ingrid behind Alexia, who nodded easily. 

"That's where we're going now, Is. We're going to see Mami."

Camila, who had been busily packing away their drawing tools, said a quick goodbye to the trio, smiling as Ingrid thanked her and walking out, waving goodbye to Isabel as she was hoisted onto Alexia's hip. 

The toddler was quiet as they drove across the city, her fingers tight around the pieces of paper that Camila had left on the table as she stared out the window until the car parked. 

Her spare hand was used to grip onto Ingrid's as they got out of the car, walking into the big and crowded building. They had to wait for a bit before they could see Mapi, so Isabel sat herself on Ingrid's lap, relishing in the comfort that the Norwegian's arms gave her as she held her close. 

Her hand remained tight in Ingrid's as they were finally allowed to go see Mapi, slowly trailing behind as Alexia opened the door. 

But Mapi only had eyes for her daughter, lighting up slightly as she spotted the curly brunette head tucked away behind Ingrid's leg. 

"Isabel, come here." She smiled as the little face popped out from behind the leg, looking around anxiously before stepping forward and hesitantly standing beside Mapi's bed. 

It was when she was lifted up to sit beside Mapi that she started crying, big and terrified sobs wracking her entire body. 

It was so scary for someone so little, seeing her mother so sad and weak in the hospital bed, her usually bright features dulled and her usually enthusiastic voice more sullen. 

The hospital was so big and the room was smelly. Mapi was sick and there was nothing Isabel could do about it.

So she cried into her mother's arms, scared about what was going to happen and scared about where she was. 

"It's ok, it's ok." Mapi tried to reassure her daughter. "I'll be ok, Is. it'll all be ok."

It was a few minutes before Isabel calmed down, wiping her eyes and taking a deep breath, holding out the little drawings she had chosen to bring. 

"You did more drawings?"

Mapi smiled excitedly, like a child on Christmas morning about to open all her presents. 

Isabel nodded, pointing at the first one. 

"Me and you, and Ingrid." She pointed at the yellow blob again. "My doggy."

The Spaniard shook her head, smiling and planting a kiss on the top of Isabel's head. 

"What about Bagheera?"

Isabel shrugged. 

"My doggy is more important."

Ingrid, on the other side of the room was taking deep and controlled breaths, much to Alexia's amusement. 

Maybe a month ago now, they had been on their daily walk in the park and Isabel had seen a little puppy, a baby golden retriever and had fallen in love. 

Thankfully, the owner was nice and allowed the toddler to pet her dog, but Ingrid had stood there with silent frustration on her face because unlike Mapi, she knew they were going to have to deal with a dog obsessed three year old for the foreseeable future. 

And she was right, because every day since, Isabel had asked over and over when she was going to get her puppy, even writing it in her note to santa as Ingrid had been her scribe, silently fuming at the inane request. 

But while the Norwegian had been reasonable and realistic, Mapi had been overly enthusiastic at the idea of a new puppy running around the apartment, clearly forgetting that they had an excited toddler and cat to deal with already.

They had taken the argument to training, Ingrid shooting daggers at her girlfriend as she complained about Ingrid stealing Isabel's childhood happiness by refusing the puppy, targeting the younger girls when she was asking who thought a golden retriever would be a good idea. 

The brunette didn't want Isabel to be sad, but she just didn’t think it was a good idea.

Mapi on the other hand thought a puppy would be the best possible addition to their family. 

"Your doggy is so important." The Spaniard pointedly smiled at Ingrid, who rolled her eyes and shook her head. 

~~~~~~

Isabel was happy in Mapi's lap as the doctors returned with the news. 

Mapi was even more happy to have her daughter to hold onto as she received the news that she absolutely did not want to hear. 

She allowed a single tear to slip from her eyes, before wiping them and smiling. 

Nobody has died, she realised. Everyone she loves is alright, everyone she loves is happy. 

Since the death of her best friend, Mapi has found that her reaction to bad news has become a lot more positive, learning to look on the bright side. 

There's always a silver lining to every cloud, no matter how dark. 

The dark cloud that came with Luis' death came with a blindingly bright silver lining - her baby daughter. 

This injury would no doubt come with one too, but she has to give it time to figure out exactly what that might be. 

Because everyone is ok. 

Everything will be ok. 

And when Isabel stood up beside her, bending down to wrap her arms around Mapi's neck, planting a kiss on her cheek and wiping away the singular stray tear, she realised that she had everything she possibly needed right there. 

Alexia could see that too. She knew Mapi would be ok which is why she felt it was alright for her to leave, to go home. 

Unlike last time she was in that bed, the centre back was happy. She had Isabel, she had Ingrid. She had what she needed and it was so clear how appreciative she was of her two girls. 

So Alexia placed a kiss on Mapi's head, gave Isabel a cuddle and Ingrid a hug and she drove back home, disappointed with the news but perfectly certain that her best friend would be alright. 

Mapi was allowed home that night, so long as she used her crutches until the surgery in two days. It meant not really moving except to go to the bathroom and to move between her bedroom and the lounge room but they would make do. 

Ingrid could live upstairs in the Spaniard's apartment for a bit to make sure Isabel was alright. To look after Mapi who wouldn't be able to look after herself. 

"Ok, Is. Mami has to be careful with her crutches now." Ingrid took the toddler's hand, using her spare hand to help Mapi up and onto the crutches. 

Isabel looked on wearily. It was weird, seeing that her Mami couldn't really walk. The toddler had always seen her mother as such a strong and brave woman, it was hard to see her so helpless. 

Her face remained downtrodden until Mapi used the end of one of her crutches to softly nudge the back of Isabel's head, smiling and winking when the toddler turned around in shock. 

"Mami!" She giggled softly, her spare hand coming up to cover her mouth to hide the laughs. 

"What? I didn't do anything!" 

She laughed more, shaking her head and leaning into Ingrid's leg. 

"Mami is so silly, Ingrid!" 

The Norwegian chuckled, agreeing with a nod. 

~~~~~~

It was only the second time that Isabel had slept over at Ingrid's place, the last time was when Mapi had driven all the way to Zaragoza overnight just to surprise her father on father's day.

She liked it though because there was no spare room which meant she could sleep in Ingrid's bed with Ingrid all night.

And after the scary day, she was in desperate need of some serious cuddles.

They had to wake up early in the morning for the surgery but Isabel had fallen asleep in the car journey there, only waking up in Ingrid's arms once they had entered the hospital.

Mapi was back in that hospital gown, her face void of piercings and the little beaded necklaces that they had made together a few months ago. She forced a weak smile on her face as Isabel looked at her, trying to reassure her daughter that she was ok, that everything would be ok soon.

The toddler wasn't convinced, burying her head in Ingrid's neck and mumbling incoherently about being scared.

She remained put in the Norwegian's arms as her mother was rolled into the operating room and as they waited for the doctor to bring them the good news once it was all done.

Even when Mapi was back in the regular hospital room, she clung onto Ingrid, worried that she would hurt her mother even more if she touched her.

But when she woke up, all Mapi wanted was to see her daughter, to see she was ok.

"My lion cub." She mumbled groggily, her eyes only half open but able to see where Isabel was sat, her eyes darting anxiously around the room. "Come here, Is. I missed you."

Dutifully, the child walked over to her bedside, hesitantly placing her hand in Mapi's outstretched one.

"Hello Mami." She frowned at her mother's pale complexion, quickly retracting her hand from her mother's cold one.

"Hey, hey. Come back, Is. I'm alright, see! Just a bit tired, that's all."

She looked up uncertainly, watching as Mapi shuffled over and patted the space beside her.

"Here, come on. I need my girl." She smiled down at Isabel, who bit her lip and slowly climbed up onto the bed.

"I love you Mami." She lay her head on Mapi's chest, her legs to the side of her. "I don't like that you're sick."

Mapi just smiled, chuckling lightly.

"I don't like that I'm sick either, Is. I love you too."

Isabel smiled easily, her worries squashed as Mapi drifted back to sleep.

Ingrid joined them quickly after Mapi fell asleep, sitting on the armchair on her other side and promptly falling asleep with her hand holding Mapi's arm, clearly exhausted from the stress of the day.

Isabel wasn't far behind, drifting off easily in the safety of Ingrid and Mapi.

It was what the Spaniard woke up to not long later, both of her girls right there with her, fast asleep but somehow still comforting her, still reassuring her that everything would be alright.

It was the first time she had been in a hospital bed but so sure that everything would be ok.

As long as she had her two girls, everything would be perfectly fine. 

She remained certain as she said goodbye to them later that evening, watching as Isabel held Ingrid's hand tightly as they walked out of the room and headed home. 

And Isabel was sure that everything would be alright later that night, warm in Ingrid's arms as they both wondered how Mapi was doing. 

~~~~~~

The next few days were a whirlwind of emotions for the whole family. 

Ingrid was hovering, so Mapi told her to go back to her apartment for the night. She regretted it of course, she missed the Norwegian as soon as the door closed behind her. 

Isabel didn't know what to do now that her routine had changed so much. 

There was no more going to training because she could just stay home with Mapi. 

Except her mother had just had a surgery and was exhausted, always sleeping and if she wasn't sleeping she was too tired to move, too tired to entertain Isabel, no matter how hard she tried. 

There were no more bedtime stories or bedtime cuddles. Mapi couldn't move enough to get off the sofa, let alone down onto the floor of Isabel's room where she used to kneel. 

Instead, the toddler got her cuddles on the sofa and Ingrid would tuck her in and read the story. 

But Ingrid's Spanish wasn't very good, and her voices weren't as funny as Mapi's. 

She struggled to sleep for the first few nights, feeling worried, feeling sad. 

Mapi struggled to sleep because she had been sleeping all day and when night fell she was suddenly overcome with an intense guilt that she couldn't care for herself or her child; that Isabel had to sit around all day just playing with the cat for entertainment. 

The toddler tried the bedroom first, expecting to see Mapi and Ingrid asleep in there like usual. Her lion was in her arms, ready to curl up between them and fall fast asleep, comforted by their warm bodies. 

But the bed was empty and made perfectly, so she continued down into the lounge room where she had said goodnight to Mapi a few hours earlier. 

She didn't expect for Mapi to still be lying on the sofa and she didn't expect her to be wide awake, staring straight ahead in the distance. 

"Mami." Isabel got her attention, the Spaniard's eyes immediately softening as they fell on her daughter.

"Hey Is. Come here.” She patted the sofa beside her, noticing the toddler's hesitancy. 

She nodded, smiling weakly and running over to jump up on the sofa, immediately snuggling into Mapi's side. 

"What are you doing awake, my lion cub?" 

She wrapped her arm around Isabel's small form, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. 

"Couldn't sleep, Mami." Her voice was quiet, muffled by the fabric of Mapi's shirt. 

"It's alright. You can sleep right here with me."

The child fell asleep quickly and Mapi wasn't far behind. 

It was how Ingrid found them the next morning, wrapped up in each others arms on the sofa.

Not wanting to disturb the peace, she quickly began cleaning up around the house, putting everything away before getting started on some breakfast. 

Isabel woke up first, the scent of pancakes cooking enough to rouse her, her eyes snapping over to the kitchen where Ingrid was stood, her back facing the toddler. 

"Ingrid!" She smiled softly, unwrapping her body from Mapi's arm and hopping off the sofa, walking over towards the Norwegian who spun around at the sound of the toddler’s voice.

"Morning Is. Sleep well?"

She shook her head, leaning into Ingrid's leg.

"Couldn't sleep, so Mami helped me."

The Norwegian frowned, using her spare hand to stroke Isabel's head. 

"That's nice of her. Do you want the first pancake?"

She nodded easily, grinning as the small pancake was handed to her and eating it quickly. 

"Should I wake up Mami for breakfast?"

Ingrid hesitated, softly shaking her head after a moments thought. 

"No, Mami is still tired. We can make her some pancakes when she wakes up and I'll let you decorate them with the fruits that she likes, alright?"

Isabel nodded sadly, resting her head on Ingrid's leg and palming the hem of her shorts. 

"When will Mami be better?"

"Soon, Is. She'll be better soon."

~~~~~~

Isabel was relatively quiet as she ate her pancakes, barely consuming half of them before she pushed the plate back to Ingrid who stood up and took it, placing a kiss on the crown of her head. 

She was worried about her, to be honest, and had half a mind to take her to training and get Camila to watch her. 

Mapi was a good mother, that was never a doubt, but Ingrid began to question whether it was good for Isabel to stay inside all day with her as she fell in and out of sleep, unable to get up from the sofa without help. 

But bringing up that issue to the Spaniard would send her down a long spiral of self doubt and upset, so she made the decision to leave it, instead deciding to just come back as soon as training was over and seeing what she could do. 

The problem was, as Mapi woke up and Ingrid tried to leave, Isabel seemed set on going with the Norwegian, her backpack full of colouring and some snacks she gathered from the cupboard, her shoes on and her bedroom tidy. 

"Is, you're staying here today, staying here with Mami." Ingrid knelt down, brushing the hair from her face. "And you'll be good for her and give her all the cuddles she needs until I get back in a few hours, alright?"

She shook her head, frowning. 

"I draw! With Camila!" 

Mapi sighed quietly from the sofa, intervening. 

"Camila's not there today because you can stay at home with me!" She mustered on a smile and Isabel looked up at her, nodding sadly. 

"Ingrid will be right back after training though, you're not stuck here with me for too long."

The Norwegian could practically hear Mapi's heart break, she was already thrown deep into the pool of self-consciousness and doubt. It was as if a single word could change her whole perspective and Ingrid had seen the clear flip over and over again. 

And the self-doubts that Mapi carried would never be understood or accepted by Ingrid, who spent every day trying to subtly prove to her that she was a good mother, that Isabel loved her. 

This incident wouldn't support all the progress she's made. 

"Is, go give Mami a hug alright? I'll be back soon." Ingrid smoothed out the toddler's hair, nudging her softly towards the sofa and watching as the child jumped on and lay down, resting her head on Mapi's shirt. 

The Spaniard's arm snaked back around the child, her spare hand waving at Ingrid as she walked out the door, her attention turning back to her daughter on her lap as soon as the door was closed. 

"I'm sorry I'm not very fun at the moment, Is. And I'm sorry that we can't go to training like usual, I know how much you like your days with Camila."

Isabel nodded, shrugging. 

"It's ok, Mami, you didn't fall over on purpose." She leant further into her mother's arm. "You don't have to be sad though, I don't like when you're sad."

"I don't like being sad either! But it's ok because when you're around, I'm always happy." She smiled softly. "You make me so happy, my lion cub."

"You make me happy too, Mami. Even when you can't play with me!" 

She giggled and Mapi knew exactly where she was going. 

"But when I get my doggy you won't have to play with me because I can play with her. Or him. I can play with my doggy."

The Spaniard smiled, running her hands through her daughter's hair and humming quietly. 

"You still have to convince Ingrid on that one."

Isabel huffed in a way that was entirely too serious for a 3 year old. 

"I don't know why... why doesn't Ingrid want a doggy?"

"She thinks you're enough work as it is, my lion."

She looked up, completely outraged. 

"I'm not work! I am a good girl, even Ingrid told me that!"

Mapi just laughed, adjusting her position on the sofa. 

"How about you run and grab your pens and paper and I can show you how to do some drawings today?"

The toddler's face switched from outrage to excitement in a split second as she bounced down from the sofa, running to her room and grabbing her supplies. 

She was used to drawing with Camila who tried her best, but was not very good at all. Getting to draw with her Mami, who was the best drawer that Isabel had ever seen was a novelty and the way she practically bounced back to the sofa emphasised just how excited she was. 

It was how Ingrid found them when she got home, Isabel wedged in an entirely uncomfortable position on Mapi's lap but it didn't look like she could care less - she was completely enthralled by Mapi's drawing of a puppy on the paper, her own pen and paper long discarded on the sofa beside her. 

Isabel's eyes lit up as the door opened, immediately beckoning Ingrid over, completely disregarding her post-training exhaustion and discomfort. 

"Ingrid! Look at Mami's drawing! It's a doggy."

The Norwegian shook her head, walking over to the duo on the sofa and sitting down beside them.

"It's a good puppy, isn't it!"

She nodded, looking over at Mapi with a glint in her eyes.

"I was thinking on the way home." She paused, her eyes flicking between the mother and daughter, each of them wearing equal expressions of suspense and interest.

"I think that you've been so good, Is, since Mami got hurt."

Mapi started to understand where this was going, a smile growing on her face while Isabel remained completely in suspense.

"I think that you've shown to us that you're responsible and I think you've shown us that you deserve a dog too."

The child's face lit up immediately and she almost knocked Mapi over with the speed she threw herself out of her position and right into Ingrid.

"I'm getting a doggy!"

~~~~~~

It was the three month anniversary of Mapi injuring her knee.

Christmas had come and gone, and Isabel had tried desperately hard to hide her disappointment when a puppy hadn't shown up in her stocking.

They had wanted to give it to her then, but couldn't justify taking it to Zaragoza for Christmas, nor could they justify buying a puppy right before their trip to Norway for new years.

Ingrid also hadn't wanted to buy a puppy when Mapi was still on crutches, still not entirely able to look after her child alone, let alone a new dog as well. Ingrid was mostly around, but the away trips would be almost impossible with a dog and a toddler if Mapi still could not walk.

So Isabel had been surprised and excited by her other gifts, things that had been used to death already. The thought of a dog never really left her brain, but she managed to push it to the side as she opened her Christmas presents and ate the Christmas food that her Grandmother had provided.

But now it was March. It was finally getting warmer and Mapi was finally returning to the pitch for training.

Off the pitch, she was completely recovered, back to kneeling by Isabel's bed every night for bedtime stories and cuddles, back to running around with the toddler on their (almost) daily walks to the park.

Ingrid had dressed her this morning, making sure her favourite dog shirt was clean the night before, sliding it over her head with a pair of jeans and sneakers, pulling her crazy morning hair back into braids.

The toddler had pointed down at the dog on her shirt, babbling in an incoherent mix of Spanish and Norwegian about how much she loved dogs.

Ingrid could only smother down her grin, thinking about the hidden stash of dog toys and supplies they had been building over the past couple of months - shoved into the ensuite of the master bedroom.

Not a week after she had agreed to buying a dog, Ingrid had signed her name on an obscure package addressed to Mapi, watching on with amusement as the Spaniard opened it up and admired the leash and dog bed that had arrived.

She was bored, apparently, sat at home alone and unable to participate in the walks that Ingrid was taking Isabel on. The boredom materialised as online shopping and she had guiltily admitted to Ingrid that she was expecting a whole lot of packages in the next few weeks.

They had kept an eye out for ads advertising golden retriever puppies, almost giving up when it seemed impossible to find one anywhere.

But three weeks ago, Mapi's mother had seen an ad up in her hometown and immediately sent it off to the couple and the next day, they had confirmed their purchase of a brand new golden retriever.

The Spaniard collected it from Zaragoza alone, under the guise of visiting home to clean out her old bedroom - an excursion that she was sure Isabel would have zero interest in attending.

The dog had been left with Alexia over night and they were surprising the toddler that day in the park.

And the little girl had absolutely no idea what would be awaiting her at the end of her walk.

~~~~~~

Isabel swung her arms happily between Mapi and Ingrid, a grin on her face as she chattered excitedly to Mapi about what she and Ingrid had gotten up to yesterday, explaining her experience of drinking a hot chocolate in such depth that Mapi wondered how long she had been concocting this story.

They stopped in at a small café for lunch on the way, trying to stall their walk so Alexia would be there before them and also so they wouldn't have to try feed her when she was inevitably excited about her brand new puppy that she had been thinking about for months.

But the anticipation was worth it as soon as she saw her godmother holding a lead that was attached to a little golden puppy, running around excitedly with it's ball.

The expression on Isabel's face was worth more than anything they had ever brought, her entire face lifting up, a smile that showed off her complete set of teeth as she spun around to look at her mother and Ingrid.

"Mami, Ingrid, is that-" It was like she didn't want to tempt fate by asking the question, just in case the dog wasn't hers.

She didn't think they would have done that to her, not in the slightest.

"Ale has your new puppy, Is. You can go say hello."

But the child didn't run to the puppy immediately as the couple had expected, instead charging into her mother first, wrapping her arms around the Spaniard and thanking her over and over again, moving to do the same to Ingrid not long after.

"Of you go, Is, go meet your puppy!" Ingrid grinned as she nudged her away, watching on with joy as the toddler practically sprinted down to the puppy who immediately jumped up onto her, covering her face with wet kisses.

"I think we made the right decision." Mapi looked at Ingrid hesitantly, aware that this still wasn't ideal for the Norwegian.

But the expression on the brunettes face said something completely different, a huge smile stuck on her face as she watched Isabel squeal with delight at her new dog, the happiest she had ever seen her.

"No, Maria, this was the right decision. Definitely."

Mapi beamed, leaning into her girlfriend's side and wrapping her arm around Ingrid's waist.

"She's so happy."

Alexia approached them not long after, her hand still holding onto the leash.

"I believe this is yours now." She smiled, holding it out to Mapi. "I can't believe anyone tried to deny her of this."

Mapi rolled her eyes, grabbing the leash, completely sick and tired of Alexia's argument about how dogs are so much better than cats.

"Is loves Bagheera too, she's just a dog person."

Alexia chuckled, shaking her head.

"No goddaughter of mine will ever be a cat person."

They continued to watch Isabel with the puppy right until she walked back over to her three adults, the dog following dutifully behind her.

"Mami, I want to call her Baloo, Bagheera's friend! Can I call her Baloo?"

Mapi smiled easily, using her spare hand to stroke her daughter's head.

"Of course you can call her Baloo, I love it."

~~~~~~

alright hope you enjoyed!

(I may or may not have given up on editing this after five minutes so it’ll probably be edited in the morning)

let me know what you think and let me know what else you want to see

have a good day!!

[archangeldyke-all]

Idk I get a lot of strange (or not) thoughts

pregnant Sevika...

OKAY LETS GIVE LITTLE FUCKER A LITTLE FRIEND HEHEHEHE

(don't ask me how sevika got pregnant by reader when reader's already been pregnant by sevika-- they're both trans, or it's piltover tech, or sev and reader have found the strap that gets u pregnant-- idk u pick)

men and minors dni

sevika is three months pregnant before either of you realize.

little fucker was relatively planned and expected. and after your baby is brought into the world-- you and sevika kinda figured that that was it.

one baby is plenty. and little fucker is a handful. and your birth was complicated enough that the doctors told you the chances of you being pregnant again were pretty unlikely. and both you and sevika are getting older.

so neither of you even consider that sevika could be pregnant when she starts getting sick in the mornings.

for the longest time, you're both convinced that little fucker's brought a germ home from kindergarten-- a germ that sevika just can't shake.

when she eating more, when she starts putting weight on around her middle, you just assume it's because it's getting to be winter. sevika's weight always fluxes throughout the seasons-- she's always putting on a few extra pounds of padding before the winter, it's only natural...

sure, it's a little weird that most of the weight she's gaining is in her stomach instead of on her thighs like usual, but she's getting older, and metabolisms and bodies change as they age! right??

you don't figure it out until little fucker pats sevika's swollen stomach one evening, giggling before blinking up at her mom. "are you growing a baby in here mommy?"

you laugh from where you're spooning your daughter-- but you quickly start to sputter at the look of shock and realization on sevika's face.

you sit up in little fucker's bed, raising your eyebrows as you study your wife. sevika's looking at you with wide eyes. "b-babe..." she whispers.

you both launch out of your daughter's bed, little fucker squealing with laughter as you scoop her up in your arms and shove your shoes and jackets on-- all three of you sprinting to the car and speeding to the nearest pharmacy. your daughter has no idea what her moms are freaking out about-- she's just happy to be on an adventure past her bedtime.

as you drive, sevika panics in the passenger's seat.

"i can't be-- i-i just started menopause!" she says. you chuckle.

"did you, though?" you ask. "you're still in your forties, babe. that's young for menopause... maybe the hotflashes and cramps and cravings and lack of periods were all--"

"oh my fucking god!" sevika groans.

"bad word, mommy!" little fucker squeals in the backseat.

the test is positive, because of course it is.

this isn't the biggest shock, though. that comes a few days later, when you take her in for her first ultrasound.

you're both anxious and stressed-- excited for another baby in your house and worried about how you'll be able to balance having two kids; worried about sevika being pregnant so late in life; trying to figure out how much another kid is going to cost-- the usual concerns.

and then the doctor gasps.

"what?!" you ask, grabbing sevika's hand in yours.

you've only known she's pregnant for a few days, but your protective instincts have already kicked into high gear. you understand now why sevika couldn't keep her hands off of you when you were carrying little fucker. that's your baby in there.

"uh, well... you're having twins!" the doctor says, smiling at you.

you blink rapidly, shocked; and sevika bursts into hysterical, tired laughter.

for a while, you're both too stressed to be excited about your rapidly expanding family.

but you figure it out eventually.

silco and vander are thrilled-- they've been trying to push their multiple kids agenda on the two of you for years now-- and they come over all the time, dragging their kids (all teenagers now) with them, helping you prepare your house for two more babies.

other parents at little fucker's school start lending you and sevika old baby strollers and clothes and bottles, giving you slightly sympathetic looks when they find out you're going to be having two babies at the same time.

in the end, what manages to push you over the brink from 'hesitant and anxious' to 'excited and ready' is little fucker's reaction.

you and sevika sit her down one night, sevika five and a half months pregnant but looking closer to eight, and you gently explain to her that your family's going to be growing soon-- that she's going to be a big sister.

little fucker bursts into tears of joy and excitement, reaching forward to gently pet her mommy's belly blinking up at both of you with watery eyes. "th-there's babies in here?" she asks, grinning.

sevika bursts into tears at her reaction, and you giggle, wrapping your crying girls up into a hug.

"there's two babies in there, and they're so excited to meet you, baby." you whisper, pressing a kiss to her head.

your daughter takes to feeding her mom treats constantly, saying she wants her baby siblings to get to taste chocolate cake, or cookies, or her gummy worms. sevika loves it.

little fucker also becomes insanely protective of her mommy sev, constantly rubbing her swollen belly with her tiny hand, bringing her glasses of water, her little feet thumping around the house as she sprints to and from the living room to bring sevika the pillows she needs to lay down comfortably.

sevika's pregnancy is about as healthy as a mid forties, twin pregnancy can be. which is to say; she's uncomfortable and sore all the fucking time; but she's got no serious complications or symptoms.

her cravings are hilarious. usually, sevika loves a rich, hearty meal-- a meat in some sauce or gravy, poured over rice or noodles. she usually likes spice and citrus and bold flavors.

but now she's pregnant, and more than anything else in the world, sevika just wants to eat plain, white bread. she doesn't even want, like, a freshly baked loaf. she wants the cheap stuff, the kind you can smush into a ball in your hand.

she eats like a loaf of the stuff a day-- not even toasted, no butter or jelly or peanutbutter on top-- just the plain, white bread.

it's that and sour cream. not greek yogurt-- it has to be sour cream. sevika eats it like ice cream.

the biggest challenge sevika faces is learning to let go and let you and little fucker care for her.

she's so used to being the protector-- the one who takes care of things. it's how she shows her love. she feels useless when she's too round to even get off the couch.

you make an effort to remind her that love goes both ways. and that she's showing you how much she loves you each and every day, even when she's just sitting around and farting-- she's growing your children inside of her.

you make an effort for both of you to spend one-on-one time with little fucker. you don't want her to feel left behind as you anticipate her siblings.

sevika takes her on nightly walks to the little corner shop down the street to get herself moving and spend time with her baby, buying her candy or chips or soda once they arrive.

little fucker is adorably patient with her mom-- waiting for her to catch her breath after walking a block or two, holding her hand the entire way to and from the shop, waiting patiently each time sevika has to stop at a local business to pee.

you've been taking your daughter to the local pet store, wanting to get her a companion that is hers and hers alone-- something she won't have to share with her siblings.

she decides she wants a frog. you both spend your evenings curled in her bed, reading about frog-pet care, and how to assemble a frog's enclosure, and how many times a day to feed it and clean it.

and then, when you're both ready and educated, you take her to the store and buy her her very first pet.

she's thrilled.

she names the frog 'sissy'-- so excited to be a big sister that she's decided the frog is her sibling as well.

you and sevika check in on her that night and find her curled around the glass tank the frog lives in, sleeping soundly.

when the babies come, little fucker goes to silco's house while you and sevika go to the hospital.

you've never been more in love with sevika in your entire life than you are in that moment, watching her give birth to not one, but both of your children.

her delivery is fast. she nearly gives birth in the car ride to the hospital. while you planned on sevika getting an epidural-- by the time they got her in the hospital gown, the first baby was already crowning.

it's a blessing and a curse-- sevika's in a lot of pain but it's over almost as fast as it began.

and afterwards, you crawl into bed beside your wife, holding her and wiping her tears away. "you're the most important, amazing thing that's ever happened to me." you whisper. sevika sniffles, smiling at you. "fuck, thank you so much, baby." you say, kissing her forehead.

the doctors hand you each one of your babies, and you and sevika burst into tears at the exact same moment.

identical sisters; both so much tinier than little fucker was from being squished together inside their mommy; both grumpliy scrunching their faces at the new lights and sounds they've been bombarded with.

"oh my god." you sob.

sevika's got her face buried against your neck, one of her babies held to her chest. "they're fucking perfect." she cries.

they have sevika's nose, sevika's lips, sevika's beautiful eyes. you should've known that your genes didn't stand a chance against sevika's after little fucker came out looking like her twin. "they're gorgeous." you sob.

they look so fucking familiar, like you've known them your entire life even though you just laid eyes on them.

it isn't until little fucker comes sprinting into the hospital, jinx and silco trailing behind her with takeout from sevika's favorite restaurant, that you realize why your babygirls look so familiar.

she crawls into the hospital bed between you and sevika, gasping and gently reaching out to touch her baby sisters, tears welling up in her big eyes as she gasps. "they look like me." she whispers.

it hits you then-- and she's exactly right. even more than their mommy sev-- your new baby girls look like your first baby girl.

sevika bursts into tears as it hits her, and little fucker giggles, kissing her mom's cheek, then gently bending forward to kiss her sisters' foreheads.

you wrap your family up in your arms, squeezing as tight as you can with a newborn in your grasp, and something deep inside of you settles.

"how are we supposed to tell 'em apart?" your daughter asks. sevika giggles.

"look, i already figured it out." she whispers. "this one with the freckle? she bit my boob when i was feeding her, so she's my 'baby shithead.'"

you groan and gently elbow your wife as she and little fucker burst into laughter at the nickname.

"what about this one?" little fucker asks, pointing at the baby in your arms.

"she pooped all over the nurses when they were cleaning her up. she's my 'baby stinkybutt.'" sevika says.

little fucker's squealing with laughter, and sevika's smiling so big and bright that you think you might go blind with it.

you sigh, and wrap all your girls up in your arms one more time. you don't ever want to let go.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @realgreeniebeanie @k3n-dyll

@sevsdollette @ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re

@raphaellearp @iamastar @sevikitty @claude999

[withwritersblock]

It Wasn't Easy to be Happy for You

~It Wasn't Easy to Be Happy for You by The Lumineers~

Author's Note: pain stacking angst :) as always italics are flashbacks Summary: Luke gets broken up with and Jack is a good brother Warnings: cursing, cheating, sad!Luke Word Count: 1,493 Luke Hughes x fm!reader

It had been three weeks since they had broken up. The days dragged on and the sunshine felt a bit cold as the days progressed. It wasn’t messy, there were no negative feelings towards one another. At least that’s what he told himself.

Luke was still madly in love with her. He woke up thinking about her, he went to bed thinking about her. He wanted to be with her. But life came in the way. He had to move to New Jersey and she stayed in Michigan. 

But she ended things, for lack of better terms.

She sent the text five minutes ago asking if they could FaceTime. He had a feeling as to what it was about, which is why he was avoiding calling her. The girl he’s been with for almost two years, the person he thought he was going to marry. The person he was in love with despite being hundreds of miles away. 

He clenched his jaw as he propped his phone up against the headboard of his bed. He scooted backwards running his fingers through his hair. Pulling his lips between his teeth he pressed her contact and began calling her.

It was a good night for Jack to be out with a few of the guys on the team. Luke was supposed to join them but this needed to come first. 

She answered after four rings. Instead of being greeted with her usual wide smile, she was crying. He didn’t panic, he took a deep breath. “What’s going on, Love?” he asked as he ran his hand through his hair.

She shook her head as she wiped her hands over her cheeks, “Don’t call me that,” she said shaking her head, “I don’t deserve it,”

Luke furrowed his eyebrows as he licked his lips, “What do you mean?” he asked. 

Y/N tilted her head back, wiping more tears leaving her eyes. She was glancing off of FaceTime as she took a deep breath. “We need to break up, Luke, I can’t do this anymore,” 

His eyes widened as he scooted towards the phone as if he would be able to touch her through the screen. “I know the distance is hard, Baby but we can’t just give up on us,” he expressed, blinking his eyes rapidly, “Not after everything we’ve been through,” he said his voice cracking slightly as his spoke.

She shook her head as a sob left her throat, “Luke, I can’t say it, please don’t make me say it,” she let out.

“Say what, Y/N?” he pleated but she wouldn’t even look at her phone. He ran his tongue over his bottom lip as he nodded slowly as the idea popped into his head. The idea as to why she was in hysterics. He nodded as he clenched his jaw, “Did you-” he took a deep breath.

“God, Luke no! I would never!” she defended. 

“Then what don’t you want to say? Y/N!” he begged.

“It’s awful, Luke,”

“If it’s awful I wanna hear it,” he said as rested his hands on his legs. He sniffled as he kept his gaze on his phone screen watching her body language. 

She remained silent for a few seconds as she finally looked towards Luke through the phone screen. He was holding back every emotion he was feeling. Luke was always the strong one in the relationship, always keeping everything inside. She tilted her head back again as she swallowed hard.

“I think-I think I’m-” she took another deep shaky breath, “I love you, Luke, but I don’t think I’m in love with you anymore,” she said as she dropped her gaze towards her lap. She wiped her tears on her cheek.

He shut his eyes as he clenched his jaw hard. She was right, it was awful to hear.

“Is it-is it uh from the distance? I know we haven’t seen each other in months but-”

“I think it started that way but I don’t know, Luke, it’s just too much,” she let out. He nodded his head as he pressed his lips together hard.

“Okay,” he let out while nodding slowly, “Okay,” he let out again, his voice cracking.

“Luke,” she let out.

“No, it’s okay-” he cleared his throat as he took a hold of his phone and ended the call. He dropped his phone on the mattress as his eyes welled up in tears. He stood up from the bed desperate to take a shower and hide every emotion creeping through his body. The tears were desperate to leave his eyes. 

While he stepped out of his bedroom, Jack was sitting on the couch. “Luke, you still want to come out with us? I’m leaving here in a-” Jack trailed off as he watched Luke wipe his hannds on his eyes, “Are you okay?” he questioned.

Luke clenched his jaw as he shook his head, he ran his hand over his chin. “Y/N broke up with me,” he let out his voice cracking.

“What? Seriously?” Jack asked, standing up from his seat on the couch.

It was the three longest weeks of his life. The only part of his life that wasn’t lacking was his hockey. Weirdly, the overwhelming feeling of heartbreak propelled his skills. He was frustrated and angry and it helped him play some of the best hockey of his life. 

It was easier to be pissed off with his opponents instead of Y/N. He hated being angry with her.

But now, he was laying in a hotel room by himself staring at Y/N’s recent Instagram post. Her recent Instagram post with her new boyfriend. There were ten photos that he was able to stare at. Overanalyzing every detail of each photo. She was cozy, too cozy for only being together a few weeks. 

He stared towards her smile and how different she looked only three weeks ago. They still followed each other, so she knew he was going to see it. It was as if she did it on purpose. He took a deep breath as he stared towards the way his lips were pressing against her jawline. Just like he used to.

His eyes scanned the caption multiple times, it was lyrics from a Taylor Swift song he didn’t know.

He swiped towards her next photo seeing it during a concert she had gone to about a month before they broke up. They were posing together, his hand draped along her lower back, his lips pressed against her neck. 

He’s looked at the photo multiple times but it only just clicked. They were still together when that photo was taken. They were still together when he was touching her like that. They were still together and she lied. She lied.

“Fuck,” he muttered as there was loud knocks slamming against his hotel door. He groaned as he tossed his phone onto the mattress before he walked towards the door. He pulled it open as he walked away at the same time. 

“Did you open Instagram?” Jack asked as he shoved his way into the hotel room.

“Yup,” he said plainly as he started pacing in the small hotel room.

“You’re spiralling,” Jack let out simply. 

“Not spiralling,” he fought back as he took a hold of his phone and threw it across the hotel room. It hit the front door and fell to the ground. Luke didn’t care if there was any damage to it. 

“Dude,” Jack said as he watched Luke reach for his jacket and beanie that were lying on the chair beside his bed.

Luke stopped short right at the chair as he looked towards Jack.

“She was fucking cheating on me and fucking lied to me about it! She looked at me and lied!” he shouted as he began to put on his jacket and his beanie.

“What are you doing?” Jack asked as he tried to pull Luke back towards him. Luke pulled his arm away as he continued towards the door.

“Going on a walk,” he muttered as he walked towards the door. 

“No, dude-” 

“I was trying to be happy for her! She wanted out! I didn’t argue it! Everything that I have ever wanted for her was for her to be happy!” he shouted, his eyes welling up in tears.

“If being happy is being with someone else, I could fucking accept that! I can’t fucking accept the fact that she was doing it while I was hundreds of miles away! I can’t just sit here and let her flaunt the guy she cheated on me with!” Luke shouted, staring into Jack’s eyes. 

Jack nodded his head, “Alright,” he muttered, “Let’s get my jacket and we can go,” Jack said as he walked closer to Luke.

“I don’t need you to go with me,”

“I know but you’ve never been to Seattle, let me show you around,” Jack offered giving him a sympathetic smile.

[pretty-blkgirl]

Say Yes [Part Two]

//fem!reader x Ot8!Skz//

Synopsis: You get slipped a note from your favorite idol to meet him at his hotel room, but he's not the only one there

Genre: smut/suggestive, crack, fluff

Warnings: sexual situations, reader uses she/her pronouns

A/N: thank you @seoyeonleexoxo for the requestttt ❤️ I initially didn’t want this to be three parts but this part ended up so lengthy 😭 Third part is gonna be the conclusion 💗

~~~~|~~~~

“Okay y/n, breathe” You chant to yourself as the elevator rises quickly to the second floor. Admittedly, you get out and pace around the hallway a little, catching the eye of some curious staff members walking between the rooms.

“Excuse me,” One woman says, coming up to you. You know she’s staff, especially since her employee badge is still hanging around her neck.

“This floor is reserved,” She says politely, “Are you supposed to be up here?”

You dig in your pocket to fish out the envelope you had gotten. A little panicked, you give it to her. Wordlessly, she looks at the picture and the (signed) NDA.

A tight-lipped smile graces her face, “Follow me.”

She gives you the envelope back and practically jogs down the hall. You walk quickly to keep up, and you two end up in front of room B6.

“Please remember the stipulations of the NDA,” She says, “The rest of the document should be in the room. Read over it when you receive it”

The envelope in your pocket feels heavy as she bows at you and walks off.

You stand there for another 5 minutes before knocking four straight times. Your heart beats out of your chest as you hear a hushed voice on the other side of the door.

It opens soon enough, and you come face-to-face with Bang Chan himself.

“There you are” He smiles, the gorgeous dimples in his cheeks making you feel at ease. He moved aside to let you in, and you go in with a little less hesitation than you should have.

“I didn’t get your name,” Chan says, “I’m Chris”

This makes you giggle, of course, you know who he is. But he’s just being polite, which makes you a little more relaxed.

“I’m y/n” You say

He nods and takes you further into the rather large room. The lights are dimmed, but you can make out the other two silhouettes lying across the king-sized bed.

You jump a little as Han Jisung sits up and confidently walks over to you. His cool nature spikes your already high anxiety levels.

“Hello,” He says, “I’m Han”

He points over to a bucket of ice with a bottle of champagne sticking out

“Want a drink?”

You can’t even answer before Changbin gets up and walks to the three of you. He’s wearing a tight, black tank top, making you a little dizzy as you get a full view of his muscles.

“You can’t just ask her that, Han,” He says, flicking the younger’s forehead and giving you a nice smile, “I’m Changbin”

“I’m being polite” Han defends

Changbin rolls his eyes, “She’s gonna think we wanna get her drunk or something- We dont by the way”

The two start to argue in Korean, making Chan laugh from behind you.

“Please excuse them, how about we take a seat?”

You nod and follow him over to a small table with two chairs. Everything seems to be going in slow motion. How in the hell are you in a hotel room with 3racha? THEE 3RACHA?

Once you two sit, Chan immediately starts to ask you about yourself. You reveal you just graduated college, and the concert earlier was a little treat for yourself after managing to save money while still paying your tuition and other expenses. You talk about your hometown, your favorite shows, your favorite songs, and how you got into Skz

“In my sophomore year of college, I had a professor who loved to play music at the start of class. She usually played louder music to wake everyone up since the class was so early, one day she played Gods Menu- I Shazammed the song and the rest was history”

Chan laughs hysterically at this, even more so that you added the fact that your teacher was a 70-something-year-old lady.

“That’s so cute” He smiles, “So you’ve been a fan for a couple of years”

“Yep. My friends have been fans for much longer though, one of them since pre-debut”

“That’s sweet” He grins, “We love our Stays, especially ones that are so beautiful”

He takes his hand and caresses your face, making your heart start to beat concerningly fast. You hear the other two men stop arguing, looking over to see them watching you and Chan with twin looks of lust.

“We saw you in the venue,” Chan says, bringing your attention back to him, “I’m sorry if all of this is overwhelming, please tell us if you feel uncomfortable”

“It’s okay,” You say quickly, “I’m okay”

Changbin and Han come and stand by the table, Han giving you a shy smile and Changbin’s smirk making you bite your lip.

“The other members saw you too,” Han says

“Where are they?” You question

“In their rooms. We figured we may scare you off if you saw all eight of us. Don’t want you to feel cornered” Chan explains

A strong sense of boldness and pure disbelief fill you as you utter a quiet, “They can come in here”

And with that, Changbin leaves the room and comes back minutes later with the other five members.

“Hi” Felix’s deep voice and bright smile greet you, “Glad to see you”

“Thought you wouldn’t come,” Seungmin says, “This is a little strange, isn’t it?”

The boys all sit in various spots in the room. You and Chan remain at the small table, him giving you reassuring looks as you contemplate the situation in front of you

“Why did you guys invite me here?” You ask

“We wanna fuck you,” Seungmin says bluntly

A chorus of scoldings comes his way as he laughs

“It’s true!” He exclaims, “It’s not fair to keep her guessing. We saw you and thought you were so gorgeous that we thought it’d be worth a shot to ask you here”

“Of course, you don’t have to do anything,” Felix says, “You can leave right now, no problem”

You contemplate for a moment. How is this real life? How in the fuck did you find yourself surrounded by eight of the most beautiful men on Earth, all wanting to fuck you?

If this is a dream, you don’t want to wake up -so with that in mind- you say;

“I wanna stay”

Hyunjin is shocked at your acceptance of the offer, “Are you sure?” He asks

“Yes,” You say with an odd sense of confidence, “Give me the NDA”

Han goes to one of the nightstands and pulls out a stack of paper from the drawer.

“You have the last page of it, this is the rest.” He says, handing it to you

“Do you guys just have NDAs on standby?” You joke, but Chan looks at you with a look of seriousness

“Our team does in case any of us choose to have a random hook up” He admits, “This one is more lengthy though”

You start to look through the papers, all the men patiently waiting for you to read through everything.

There’s a “hook up” clause, essentially saying that you can’t reveal anything about the one night you and any member have had.

There’s a “Causal” clause, one stating that if you and any member(s) were to have causal interactions, you are not to say or allude to anything.

However, there’s a “Connection” clause, this one revealing that you are allowed to spend time with any member(s) [If you and he choose to stay in contact in a serious matter] with help from JYP staff. You are allowed to attend any Skz events of your choosing, be at their residence, and go out with them on dates while swearing to not say anything about the arrangement and allow the staff to keep a close eye on you.

“Interesting” Is all you say by the time you finish the paperwork. I.N. had silently given you a pen to write your signature on a couple of dotted lines.

“There are three arrangements” Felix reiterates, “Do any of them sound good to you?”

“I’d prefer the connection arrangement,” You say truthfully, “I’ve had casual sex here and there but I’d like to build some kind of relationship with you all”

Heat rises to your face as you look back at a smiley Chan.

“I understand I’m only a fan but I would hate to just fuck you all and then leave. Especially if I’m offered free concerts and shit”

Chan and Felix burst out in laughter, making you even more comfortable than you were before

“No, I understand” Chan nods, “We’d love to get to know you as well.”

“Great, I’m glad we’re in agreeance”

As much as you wish you could have just hugged all of them and started the process of getting to know the members, you caught sight of how good they looked right at that moment.

And well, you have needs.

You look around the room and your eyes stop at a shy-looking I.N, whose face turns red at the way you were looking at him.

“Do you guys have condoms?”

~~~~|~~~~

Taglist: @anxiousskylar @openthevale @kaiyaba @blackbluerose666 @angelhyunjinnie @hyun-hwanj @shuporangporangilinos @jisungsbammey @yumiblogs @sillyhal @chrizztopher97

[thoughtsonkm]

Jeju pt.1 in a nutshell

(more than that, I just love this pretty aesthetic shot)

The vibe was definitely different because logically two people (especially jm&jk) are gonna behave differently than a three person group. Just a matter of numbers, synergies and the need to deliver a specific product to the audience. Nonetheless it was so entertaining to me. I realize I kinda missed these three together sharing 2 braincells (1 for jimin and 1 for tae&jk). The first two episodes were so chill and they felt like they almost had a lowkey underground vibe as if they were in their own bubble away from everyone just living life in their little part of the world accompanied by a moody scene and dim lights while this episode was like a action packed manic episode, so bright so cheerful with childlike wonder. I'm glad they can still have fun together and always enjoy the moment.

Plus let's be honest jikook are gonna jikook no matter the place, time and people around.

Some of the funniest parts of the ep to me were: The contrast of Jimin yapping about Aewol and Tae&Jk eating like there's no tomorrow. The drive through ordeal. The perfect comedic scenario of Jimin chasing Tae to make him eat like it was the last thing he would do.

Favourite reaction meme/face of the day. The betrayal, the suspense, the drama.

LOOK at this little bean stopping and collecting Jimin's 1930 shoes and going after his shenanigans like the dependable banryeo he is 😭 (remember back in 2019 when jimin called jk that and everyone went crazy and rolled with it for MONTHS? Good times)

~

On another note it's actually very interesting how you can feel and see how in every second Jimin tries to be in control of the situation and always on top of everything, every angle and every concern. He also always looks so deep in thoughts during these episodes, it's like he's given himself the task to be the artist, entertainer, manager,producer and everything all at once in this show. I'm sure it also has to do with his own personality and being someone who looks at every minor detail, a perfectionist who tries to curate everyone and everything.

~

The way Jk's life flashed before his eyes when he saw blood on Jimin's lips ~ so fuckin cute

And after Jimin's lip incident happened, Jungkook could not stop licking his own lips for the rest of the episode and probably day, I see you

THAT scene was so thought inducing, so ao3 ff coded it was insane. Just Jk silently staring at a dazzling and sleeping jimin in the ground. 37292 scenarios could've been played and then.. just walked away to take a shower (⁠ ͡⁠°⁠ ͜⁠ʖ⁠ ͡⁠°⁠)

Not okay seriously! The concern, the adoration, the yearning.

Blaming Jk for his actions was never an option. LOOK AT HIM

I LOVE the constant little comedic improvs Jikook do together, they're so fun!! You can tell that it's part of their usual daily thing (it's actually smth i also do with my friends and it always gets hysterical)

~

The idea that they went on a private trip to Jeju in August and then went again for the show in September, fills me with joy. Love that they had the opportunity. Seems like they keep on going to the same locations twice, just so they can get that full experience with each other.

~

I kid you not, this is one of my top3 fav things they do together. JIMINSSIII - JUNGKOOKSSIII

The editing being almost backwards and all over the place really is a little off-putting sometimes, jarring even. Not keeping events in a chronological order is sus on it's own, like they're scraping for footage at this point..

And yes it is also kinda bothering me that it's been years and years of content creation and they still can't do a good job at translating and coordinating what everyone says, is it really that hard? is it??

Imma put her on blast just out of pettiness 😆

[the-fiction-witch]

Baby Dragon

Media House Of The Dragon,

Character Daemon Targaryen

Couple Daemon X Reader (Targaryen Visery's Heir)

Rating Suggestive

Warning Uncle X Neice

I sat at the foot of Balerion's skull bathed in the flames of hundreds of candles. My hair was pulled into a sleek braid down my back, and my red textured dress with my decorative Valyrian steel dress Jelwery, the metal formed into layered spikes like amour across my shoulders and hips with filigree around my breasts. It wouldn't do anything to defend me in a real fight but it was dramatically decorative giving me the illusion of spines that glimmered silver to match my dragon 'Silver Star'. I watched the flames dance in front of me and I fiddled with my rounded Dragonglass necklace between my fingers in the silence. 

I enjoyed the silence heard only my breaths until I suddenly jumped as arms and thick hands wrapped around my waist and he breathed down my neck his breath hot against my skin. I knew by the feeling of his arms and hands were enough to identify him but his voice hissed into my ear. "I'm Home," 

I chuckled a little a sly smile broke across my lips as I did my best to be proper even if I still teased him,  "Ah ... pleasure to see you have returned safe and well Prince Daemon"

He tightened his grip, “What are you smiling at?”

"Can I not smile? I am happy to see you, home uncle,"

“How is it that the thought of seeing me doesn’t bring you to hysterics?” he chuckled as his breath tickled my skin, 

"I admit the thought of seeing you does thrill me. It has been three long years without you." She answered, "However there years is a long time, and... You might say I have changed. And now am at an age where a princess cannot be in hysterics just because her uncle is home" I answered and I could tell immediately he wasn't happy, he didn't like my newly found confidence, he didn't like that he wasn't the one to turn me so hysteric at his meer sight, touch and breath. 

"You've changed," He accused, "Explain." 

"As I said I was pleased to see your return Prince Daemon. And yes while on some level I do indeed wish to... Throw my arms around you and rejoice in your return. A princess should be proper, should she not?"

“I am not your subject to act proper around. What of my wishes, princess? Do they not factor into this equation?”

"And what are your wishes Prince Daemon?" I wickedly smiled as I turned to glance over my shoulder at him meeting his eyes, 

“I wish to hear that you will stop being so goddamn proper and act like the girl I left behind and have you melt in my arms like you did when you were younger, and kiss me without a care in the world." He growled, 

"I'm afraid that is impossible" I chuckled slyly, "my father has spent the last three years ensuring my proper education and behaviour. It is no act. I'm afraid to inform you but... The little girl that would melt into your arms that you left behind is gone, father ensured she was replaced." I turned to face him fully revealing her dress, my Valyrian steel decorative armour and the necklace of dragon glass which took his attention and made him smile as it was a gift he had given me the night before he left for the war and the sight that I still wore it for him after all this time gave him a prideful smile as he stood in his red and black finery with his silvery hair cut short, "As much as our desires may be to do so, there are too many cares in this world to kiss you."

“Damn my fool brother… he has ruined you…” he complained in his frustration, “My gods what has he done to my sweet little Y/n…" he glared as he inspected me, "You're dress is tight, your spikey, your proper and refined,"

"he did what had to be done. I am his heir. A blushing stuttering princess would have no place on the iron throne." I explained, "I suppose I am... No longer your baby dragon," for a moment I let a smile slip through as I spoke the name he had always called me. 

“I suppose you are no longer the baby dragon you once were princess… and what of that necklace? I gave it to you when I left. Do you still have the same sentiment I left with when I gave it to you three years ago?” he asked,

"you asked me to wear it always and think of you. I have never removed it since you left," I admit with a blush, 

“And have you kept to the other rule? Have you missed me since I’ve been gone? Do you think of me every night before you rest your little head to sleep?”

"I have missed you greatly, I wear the necklace always and I think of you nightly as I set my head to sleep I think of ... The night before you left"

“That was quite a night… wasn’t it princess?” he smirked, 

"it was... A night of many Impressive things,"

“Impressive huh? And how many of those many things still haunt your fantasies?”

"all of the things," I admitted, "Tell me Prince Daemon... How many of those things from that night still haunt your own mind, your own fantasies, has the thought of us that night... Kept you warm these long nights of war"

“That night has not left my mind for a single day… not a moment… nor has this foolish girl that had the audacity to grow up when I wasn’t there to keep her in check," he growled as he moved his lips close to my own, 

"humm I did not wish to grow up. To abandon being your baby dragon. However, if you have complaints about the foolishness that grew up and now stands before you." I whispered, "Take it up with your brother. My father. The king"

“Don’t tempt me with that suggestion princess- because I know your father would take delight in denying me such pleasures…" 

"Perhaps that was his intention? To make me his heir to train me to be a proper princess all while you were gone unable to add input. To deny you your baby dragon,"

“Do not tell me you have become so indoctrinated by his teachings that you do not desire the things I gave to you years ago Baby Dragon." he smirked, "You still want me? do you not?"

"what I want. Is not of consequence."

"Not of consequence?" He raised an eyebrow, 

"I am a princess. Heir to the throne. Future of our kingdom and its people... What I want is not relevant. The baby dragon you once made your plaything has been forced away," I explained as I tried to move to put space between us, but he grabbed my arm. 

“I don’t give a damn of your place, princess. I gave you this necklace as a token of my love- to be kept on your person at all times and I do not care what that fool brother of mine wishes for you- you are still mine- to touch, to kiss." He said as he stroked my necklace, "I still want you to be my baby dragon…"

"...he will never allow us our love. Then or now. He is disgusted by our feelings. He will have us sent to death if he ever knew we did so now ... Now that I am mature, that I am at an age of understanding and of consent, now that there is risk I could give you children. My father, my brother. The king of the realm. Will not allow this. As much as I love you and as long as I have loved you." I explained fighting back tears, I pulled off my necklace and held it in my hand as I offered it to him, "I understand if that means... I cannot have this anymore,"

“I would rather die than live a life without you, princess. Just as soon as we are apart I am filled with despair and anguish… no matter how much I try to put my feelings aside I cannot you are meant to be with me…" He said as he took my necklace and slipped it back around my neck, 

"he will put us to death if we ever-"

“I. Do not. Care. What he will do to us… I just want you. I need you. I will have you. No matter what. and I will burn all of the seven kingdoms to be with you," 

"I-I... I know it is foolishness but..."

“But what princess?”

"Dragonstone." I blurted out, "... Steal me. Steal me from your brother. From my father. From this castle. From this kingdom. Take me to Dragonstone. your castle. Take us there on dragon back and make me your bride."

“Steal you?" he smirked,

"Yes."

"Yes, steal you I shall princess and take you to Dragonstone. I shall make you my bride. I will not live another day without you by my side.”

"you would truly do this for me?"

“I would do anything for you Y/n, my baby dragon. I… will not live to see you marry someone else. And I would rather die than not be in your life, not wake up every day without you.” He smirked, “If it means we have to run together to Dragonstone to escape the king and our duty…then so be it. Nothing will keep me from my love and future wife… not even death.”

I smiled and let everything go jumping into his arms wrapped my arms around him but he pushed me away, 

"Ahh! Damn it." He complained before he removed my decorative Valyrian steel dress Jelwery, "You're too spikey baby dragon," he laughed before hugging me tightly again, "I will have you. I will always have you. I will protect you. I will cherish you. You will be mine. My baby dragon. My wife." He cooed, “Do not worry, princess. We shall be gone by the morning. The king will be devastated- but we shall be together. There will be nothing stopping us. Nothing to keep me from putting my lips on yours. I shall claim you now and forever.”

"I do not care for his devastation, I care only that ... This is what you truly want?"

“And what if it is? What if I want you and only you? What if I want to spend the rest of eternity holding you and kissing you? What if I wanted you to be the mother of my children?

what then princess? What then?”

"Then I will happen stolen!"

“Then that is what I shall do to you princess. I will steal my bride. That is what I wish for.” he looked into my eyes, “Do you wish for the same? Will you steal my heart forever then? Will you make me the happiest man alive and claim me forever and claim me as yours for a lifetime to come?”

"I will I swear it on the old gods, the new, the seven, on old valyia and the seven kingdoms.

“Then that is good enough for me- my precious princess, my baby dragon my beloved… I will steal you away and we shall be gone tomorrow morning. You will become my bride. My queen. My love. My wife, forever.”

[deliciousangelfestival]

The Lady - 7

Character: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, Eddie Horniman x Female Reader

Summary: After fifteen years away, a step-daughter returns for her Duke step-father's funeral, only to inherit a staggering 8 million pound debt and strike a risky deal with a criminal underworld figure.

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Chap 1, Chap 2, Chap 3 , Chap 4 , Chap 5 , Chap 6 , Chap 7.

Your ongoing support means the world to me! Reblogs are a fantastic way to help spread the word about my work.

Eddie's classic car roared up the gravel driveway, the engine's purr echoing through the quiet morning air. The sleek, polished body of the car gleamed under the sunlight, its timeless elegance a stark contrast to the tension that gripped the house.

Bucky clicked his tongue, his eyes narrowing in disdain. "Tsk, show off," he muttered. You shot him a sidelong glance, annoyed that he was still hanging around despite your earlier insistence that he leave.

"Don't kick me out. I want to see where this is going," Bucky said, leaning back casually as if he had all the time in the world.

Eddie moved swiftly, opening the back door of his car and helping Charles out. Charles looked like he'd been through hell. His face was swollen and bruised, one eye nearly shut from the swelling, and dried blood crusted at the corner of his mouth. He winced with every step, leaning heavily on Eddie for support.

Before you could fully process the sight, a hysterical scream pierced the air. "Kyaa!!! Charles, who did this to you?" Susan, your mother, ran out of the house, her face pale with panic.

She reached Charles and frantically checked his face, her hands trembling. Without a second thought, she helped Charles into the mansion, her expression a mix of fear and anguish.

Bucky watched the commotion with a detached interest, his eyes flicking between you and the unfolding drama. "Well," he said, his voice breaking through your daze, "looks like things just got a lot more interesting."

Leaving the three of you dumbfounded by your dramatic mother, you sighed and looked at the boys. "It’s already come to this. Let’s talk with cigars and whiskey."

“Yes. Let’s go!” Bucky walked inside, his steps light and eager. You and Eddie lingered behind.

You couldn't share Bucky's enthusiasm. Instead, you grumbled, feeling the weight of yet another problem. One issue had just been resolved, and now a new one had emerged. Eddie gave you a sympathetic smile, his eyes filled with understanding.

You sighed deeply. "The next time we meet, I hope it’s not about drugs and debt."

Eddie nodded, his expression somber. “I’ll drink to that.”

🤍🤍🤍🤍

You, Bucky, and Eddie are drinking whiskey in your study while your mother tends to Charles's wounds.

“What did a priest do to get beaten up like that?” you ask, leaning back in your chair.

“He got into trouble with ‘The Gospel,’” Eddie replies.

You raise your eyebrows. “Who?”

“John Dixon, aka ‘The Gospel.’ He’s an evangelical nutjob who also runs a cocaine syndicate,” Eddie explains.

You’re taken aback, hardly able to believe what you just heard. Charles, sitting nearby with a bandage on his forehead, interjects.

“He’s not evangelical. That man is a liar. His people sell that devil powder at schools,” Charles says with conviction.

You cross your arms, incredulous. “So you confronted them? All by yourself?”

Charles looks at you, pain and determination in his eyes. “I know what those drugs can do. It ruined my life. I don’t want others to go through the same hell I did.”

He leans forward, his expression earnest. “You have to stop him.”

“Me?” you respond, surprised.

“Yes, because you can. You have to save people from a man like ‘The Gospel,’” Charles insists. "If this were medieval times, he’d be the corrupt pope, and you’d be the martyr trying to bring him down."

Bucky, always eager for excitement, chimes in. “This is getting more exciting. Can I join?”

“No!” you and Eddie answer simultaneously.

“I’ll provide you with the guns,” Bucky offers, unfazed.

You consider his proposal for a moment. “Fine,” you agree, knowing you’ll need all the help you can get.

Before you go to meet the fake evangelical, your mother chases after you. She grabs your arm and says, “You have to avenge your brother.”

She's so determined to get her stepson some justice. You sigh inwardly; since you've come back, she hasn't shown this kind of worry for you, only for Charles and Charlotte.

After she leaves, you notice Bucky and Eddie looking at you. Bucky says, “It’s just me and my dad. And I’m sure he’d like you.”

“Huh?” you reply, confused.

Eddie chimes in, not wanting to be outdone, “All my family likes you.”

You chuckle, “Let’s go.”

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

You arrive at the chapel where ‘The Gospel’ has his hideout. It’s a dilapidated old building, its stained glass windows cracked and dirty. The air is thick with the scent of incense, masking the more sinister activities taking place within.

Eddie leans in and whispers, “Be careful with him.”

“I know,” you respond, steeling yourself for what’s to come.

As you approach the entrance, Bucky nudges you and hands you a small revolver. “Just in case things get messy.”

You nod, tucking the weapon into your coat. The three of you push open the heavy wooden doors and step inside. The interior of the chapel is dimly lit, casting long shadows across the pews.

At the front, a figure stands at the altar, preaching to a small group of followers. His voice is smooth, charismatic—a stark contrast to the malevolence you know he harbors.

At the front, ‘The Gospel’—John Dixon—stands, his face a mask of calm malevolence. He looks up as you approach, a twisted smile playing on his lips.

John’s eyes flick to Eddie first. “We meet again,” he says, his voice dripping with false piety.

Then his gaze shifts to you. “So you’re the priest’s older sister,” he says, sizing you up.

"You hurt my family," you say, your voice low and filled with barely-contained fury.

John’s tone turns accusatory. “He stopped God’s plan that I received. That’s why we gave him a warning.”

Listening to this madman talk, you realize he belongs in an asylum, not leading a drug syndicate.

John’s expression softens into a mockery of benevolence. “I will forgive and forget if he apologizes to me,” he declares.

You raise your eyebrows, incredulous. Then you cross your arms defiantly. “Fuck no.”

The room falls silent, everyone taken aback by your boldness. Bucky immediately grins, thoroughly enjoying the confrontation. “Go on,” he whispers, urging you on.

You step forward, your voice steady and resolute. “Charles was too soft on you. Not me. I’ll wipe out people like you from this earth.”

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[intheticklecloset]

Cry With Laughter (Bungo Stray Dogs)

One Shot

Summary: Akutagawa pays more attention than Atsushi realizes, and the weretiger reaps the rewards.

A/N: Just wanted a light, cute, fluffy, romantic fic between these two because they deserve the world. Enjoy! <3

Word Count: 1011

~~~

Sunlight streamed in through the tiny sliver of a window. Atsushi groaned in protest and rolled onto his other side, surprised when a pair of warm lips met his.

“Morning, weretiger.”

Akutagawa. Atsushi could still hardly believe it. Years of fighting, months of near-flirting, weeks of pining, and now three days of living together. Three whole, blissful days. Waking up to the black-haired man was still the best feeling in the world to him. He never wanted it to end.

“Time to get up,” Akutagawa said.

Atsushi let out a long sigh and snuggled closer to his partner. “Five more minutes?”

The mafioso snorted, but wrapped an arm around his waist nonetheless. “Five.”

Atsushi hummed in contentment…but then Akutagawa kept counting.

“Four.” He snuggled closer. “Three.” A hand went to his waist, playing with the hem of his shirt. “Two.”

All right, now Atsushi was nervous. He finally allowed himself to open his eyes, just in time to see Aku grin wickedly at him and finish his countdown.

“One.”

“Aiiee!” Atsushi yelped, squealing and squirming instantly when his partner’s fingers dove under his shirt to scribble at the bare skin of his side. “Ehehehehehe! Nohohohoooo, Akutagawa!”

“Yes.”

“Buhuhuhuhuhut—!”

Arguing with Akutagawa was a death trap. He knew that by now, he knew, but sometimes – especially early in the morning – he started into it out of habit. Within seconds the covers had been tossed aside, Akutagawa pushed up and swung a leg over his hips to straddle him, and Rashomon wrapped around his wrists and pulled them up to either side of his head on the pillow, trapping him as the older man’s fingers flew freely across his bare tummy.

Atsushi squealed out a hysterical cry and sputtered, “Whahahahahat?! Whehehehen did you puhuhuhuhut your cohohohohoat on?!” He hadn’t gotten into bed wearing it; that much he remembered. “Ahahahahahakutagawa!”

A rare smile graced his partner’s lips, and it hit the weretiger all at once – he was playing with him. Akutagawa was just playing with him, for fun! Just because he could!

…was the world ending?

“EEEK!! Ehehehahahahaha nohohohohot thehehehere, please!” Atsushi begged, trembling as a single finger began swirling around his navel teasingly, threatening to plunge in and make him really laugh.

“What will you do for me if I spare you?” Akutagawa asked, his voice as low and gruff as ever, though the twinkle in his eyes gave him away.

“Aha?! A-Anythihihihing! Anything you wahahahahant!”

The mafioso chuckled. “That sounds nice. But I want to hear what you come up with, weretiger. Unless you want me to tickle you to death before you even get out of bed this morning?”

The hell? Where had this version of his partner come from?!

“I-I…! I’ll cohohohohook you breheheheakfast!”

“You do that anyway.” Akutagawa stopped circling and scratched at the spot juuust below his belly button, a silent warning.

Atsushi was so surprised and flustered by the whole situation that for a long moment, all he could do was giggle hysterically, hyper focused on how ticklish it was just for Aku to scratch that one spot over and over again. He squirmed helplessly, mind scrambling to come up with ideas.

“Massahahahahahage!”

Aku quirked a brow, smirking. “Oh? Where?”

“I dohohohohohon’t knohohohohow?! Wheheheherever you neheheheheed one!”

“Hmm.” Akutagawa finally left that spot and instead began scribbling all over the rest of his belly once again. “I’m listening.”

Atsushi tugged at Rashomon, which of course did not budge. He twisted his face into his pillow, unable to bear looking directly up at his partner when he was being so playful and cute like that. “A mohohohohohovie? Shohohohohopping? Whahahahatever you wahahahahant, Aku!”

Akutagawa chuckled again. “What if what I want is to tickle you until you’re crying with laughter?”

Atsushi’s eyes snapped back up to his, wide with surprise.

Akutagawa merely smirked at him, triumphant.

“Y-You…you jeheheheherk!” the weretiger managed at last, going limp, allowing Akutagawa to continue tickling him into happy fits of giggles.

“You love it.”

“Shuhuhuhuhut up!”

“I will not.” Akutagawa circled his navel again. “You asked for it yourself, don’t you remember?”

“Plehehehehease stohohohohop tahahahahalking, damn Akutagahahahahawa!”

Akutagawa dipped his finger into his belly button and wiggled, causing Atsushi to arch his back off the bed with a howl of laughter that was far too loud and embarrassing. He kicked his legs frantically, messing up the comforter and sheets in his sudden desperation to escape his partner’s tickly clutches.

Last night had been rough for Atsushi, and – as he did more often than he’d like – he’d suddenly found himself crying into his pillow. He was used to this, but last night had been different. Akutagawa was with him, spooning him from behind, hugging him quietly while he let his emotions run wild.

When he’d recovered, that’s when he’d said it. “Just once,” he’d muttered, “I wish I could cry with laughter instead.”

Akutagawa had heard him. Because of course he had – how could he not, lying right next to him, silently supporting him? And now Atsushi was cackling frantically, laughter and pleas for mercy spilling from his lips before he’d even had breakfast, gasping and wheezing and very near to tears for the second time in twenty-four hours, albeit for a very different reason this time.

And Akutagawa was smiling. Genuinely smiling at him.

“Ryu!” Atsushi begged through hysterics, his nice, neatly made bed now needing to be redone entirely. He arched his back again, crashing down with another wave of laughter. “Plehehehehehehease!”

“I’m only giving you exactly what you wanted, Atsushi,” Akutagawa replied, adding another hand to the mix now, this one kneading and pinching his ribs. “Another minute or two ought to do it.”

It was, in fact, three more minutes before the first mirthful tear slid down his cheek, at which point the mafioso stopped his assault and leaned down to kiss him passionately. Atsushi could hardly breathe, but he didn’t care. He had everything he could have ever wanted, including a smile so big he was certain he couldn’t rid himself of it if he tried.

Bless that Akutagawa.

[incorrect-hs-quotes]

GG: This text I got from Roxy a few hours ago is so hysterical. She doesn't even use Peacock. She literally went on it for the first time and Dickbreath the Mysterious awaited her with an outstretched finger.

GT: What.

GG: We still have no idea who Dickbreath is, by the way. He just appeared.

GT: It could have been dirk?

GG: You know as well as I do that Dirk is a tech-obsessed avid Tool listener who uses Discord constantly and has a monitor that's as wide as three newborn babies. I can assure you the only streaming service that man is using is VLC Media Player.

GG: And before you ask if this is a prank, I need to emphasize that there is no way I could have done this. Part of why this is next-level funny to me is that, remember, Roxy and Dirk live centuries in the future, and even if they didn't, we don't even live in the same state.

GG: She is literally both hundreds of miles and years away from me and still her first instinct was, "I think Jane did this."