#it's just impossible to imagine my dad pretty much definitely not being here in two months

[danikatze]

[ID in alt text]

Another wip! It's kind of almost done :)

[im-not-samantha-im-samanta]

Hiii! Could you please write some hcs for Loona from Helluva Boss with a succubus gf that's asexual and often feels like there's something wrong with her/an outsider with her "crowd", as succubus/incubus culture practically surrounds all things related to sex?

Hello, nonny! Welcome here! ^^

As for your request, yes! You can definitely get such hcs! ^^ Actually, I was overjoyed to see your request, as a fellow ace I really appreciate it!! <3

You can probably tell how much I enjoyed writing these judging by how long these imagines are ^^".

I also started it off as general headcanons before getting to the part of Reader feeling like an outcast, hope that's okay. <3

Anyways, thank you for your request, nonny! I really enjoyed it! Hope you'll enjoy reading these! <3

_

🐾🌒 // Loona having an asexual succubus girlfriend // 🌘🐾

___________________________________________

Type: Imagines

Settings: Romantic

Genre: Mostly fluff, a bit of hurt/comfort included just like asked,

!TRIGGER WARNING!: Typical Helluva boss mentions, light mentions of acephobia from other 'cubus demons, light mentions of sex related things, brief mentions of drinking alcohol, mentions of smoking cigarettes, mentions of food and its consumption, talks about feeling insecure about your sexuality due to cultural beliefs, mentions of feeling of not belonging, that should be all!

Sidenote: I didn't want to keep on writing "succubus/incubus" so I improvised and used "'cubus" as a gender neutral term,

Sidenote: Reader is written as a female as asked in the request

_

That should be all,

Enjoy <3

___________________________________________

Being an asexual and a succubus don't necessarily go together,

but that doesn't mean it can't happen!

Sure, it seems like it's not often a Succubus or an Incubus fall under the ace umbrella,

but it definitely happens here and there,

People just aren't that aware of it as it seems like something impossible,

(Plus I firmly believe many ace Succubi and Incubi are closeted or in denial because they're ashamed of themselves since the 'cubus culture is so dedicated to sex related things),

So yeah,

Not many people are aware a 'cubus can be on the asexual spectrum,

Loona wasn't aware either,

And neither was Blitzø,

Why am I mentioning Blitzø?

Because the moment you showed interest in Loona,

my man immediately went to protective dad mode,

The public doesn't have that positive views on Succubi/Incubi,

and Blitzø himself doesn't have that good experience with them,

So, the moment you seemed to take an interest in Loona,

Blitzø went for his gun,

(Metaphorically? Literally? Who knows? It's Blitzø),

And Loona herself was a little unsure of being the focus of a succubus' attention,

because from what she knew,

succubi and incubi really liked to see people as mere sexual objects,

And mind you, Loona liked to be viewed as hot,

but she didn't like being sexualized,

something succubi and incubi liked to do with people,

But then you timidly explained how you're asexual,

and how you're not interested in Loona sexually but rather romantically,

Cue to two shocked faces,

And while Blitzø doesn't fully buy it,

Loona is pretty flustered because people usually just drool over her body,

but you actually want her for her?

This never happened to her before!

Long story short,

the two of you ended up going on a date and eventually became a couple!

With Blitzø's approval after you've proven to actually like Loona for Loona,

and not just her body,

But he's still watching your every move,

waiting for any wrong move-

Anyways!

Loona adores you,

and she really tries to not let it show,

but everyone can easily tell how much she adores you,

She just finds it so odd yet endearing that you're not interested in her sexually,

like the fact you look at her and don't have the desire to ...y'know...

and instead you just admire how pretty she is,

and you tell her how hot you find her in an ace way,

She finds it so endearing and so wholesome,

This whole thing is also a brand new territory for Loona,

completely new experience,

so she can get a little awkward and timid at times,

but it's very cute,

And before the two of you got together,

Loona seriously asked you about boundaries,

Loona knows quite enough things about the LGBTQIA+,

but still, after your first date going well,

she went to the net and searched some stuff on asexuality,

And when she was sure she liked you,

the next time you two met up, she wanted to know details,

Where are you on the ace spectrum? Are you sex repulsed? Are you comfortable with physical affection?

She asked so many questions,

She didn't want to miss any important information,

cuz she didn't want to end up overstepping boundaries and making you uncomfortable, <3

She's also an indirect supporter,

Which means,

she acts really indifferent but secretly does things to show she cares and you have her support,

So, for example,

she'll gift you something with your asexual flag with the words:

"I randomly saw that on the net and thought you might like it or whatever, so, I got it for ya"

She says that, but she actually deliberately searches for such things online,

She also has your flag pinned on the wall above her bed,

so that whenever you come visit you know you're accepted there, <3

Also bullies asks the others to have some asexual merch on them during Asexual awareness week,

And if you're not present during that, Loona sends you a photo of the team with the ace merch,

And with the caption:

"Look at them bootlickers, brown nosing so bad for your approval, smh. Happy awareness week tho :) <3"

No, she doesn't tell you it was her doing,

Also, speaking of merch,

Loona encourages you to wear your flag and be open about your sexuality,

But she doesn't push you into expressing yourself if you're not ready,

or if it makes you uncomfortable,

She understands that being a succubus on the ace spectrum sucks,

because there's so much stigma in the 'cubus community against ace 'cubi,

Still though,

If you're open about being ace Succubus,

you can notice that the other succubi/incubi don't dare harass you as much ever since getting with Loona,

Maybe it's because having a goth Hellhound by your side scares everyone off,

or maybe it's because of the many times Loona almost bit off the heads off your harasser's necks,

and got you kicked out of many public spaces,

not to mention a few of Loona's justice assaults have been going around the internet...

Yeah, other succubi/incubi rarely have any acephobic remarks nowadays,

Though here and there assholes like that still appear,

Loona can protect you from them though,

but what she can't really protect you from are your doubts,

She can't really scare away your feelings of there being something wrong with you because you're a succubus but also an asexual,

She can't scare away those feeling of being an outcast in your own species,

She can't scare away those feelings of not connecting to your own culture,

She wished she could scare those doubts away,

but she can't,

So she has to settle for a different approach,

One of the things Loona does to make you feel better is digging through your culture,

digging through your culture and finding non-sexual aspects you can celebrate and connect with,

And she puts great emphasis on the fact you can appreciate your own culture even if you don't connect to some aspects of it,

"Hey, every culture has some bullshit things that suck about them, and just because there are some aspects you don't connect with doesn't mean you can't appreciate your own culture or that you're not a valid part of it"

Loona also encourages you to join groups, whether that be in real life or online, of Succubi/Incubi who are also asexual,

There definitely are some support groups of that sorts,

Just gotta do search hard,

And Loona definitely can do that,

And if you happen to meet the other ace 'cubi in real life,

Loona is there to support you,

And she's also there as a protector,

Nobody would dare harass a group of asexual 'cubi with a goth Hellhound around,

And if we're talking about Loona after Beelzebub's party,

She definitely asks her new friends to accompany y'all,

After all, who would dare harass you all with a pack of scary hellhounds around?

Another thing Loona does to support you when you feel down is being your shoulder to cry on,

It may not sound like much,

but it's really a valuable way to help,

Loona lets you vent and cry as much as you need,

She doesn't judge you in any way, and she patiently listens to all you're holding in your chest,

And, when you vent, she accommodates to your preferences,

If you need physical closeness, she'll hold you for as long as you need like there's no tomorrow,

If you just need for her to hear you out, she'll keep quiet and just let you talk,

If you need some input from her, she'll comment on what you're saying,

though she may not always have an advice or answer,

she still tries to always say something back if you need that,

Or if you just want to sit in silence but need her to be physically present, she will stay,

She will keep you company for as long as you want, even if you just want for each of you to do your own activity,

And she'll cuss out anyone who tries to disturb you in these moments,

During those silent moments she'll often glance your way though,

just to make sure you're alright,

But she'll also distract you if that's your preferred way of being comforted,

She has many silly videos to share and laugh at,

so many songs to listen to and vibe with,

or even movies or tv series to binge watch,

you decide,

and she'll provide some nice drinks and snacks too,

she'll even give you a cigarette if you're a smoker,

or an alcoholic drink if you're a drinker,

However, she won't let you overdo it,

she won't let you smoke a whole pack of cigarettes in one sitting because you're unwell,

and she won't let you drink away your sorrows and get wasted,

No, she'll keep you in check,

she loves you too much to let you indulge in self destructive, addictive behaviors,

And same for food,

If you're an emotional eater, she will make sure you don't eat to the point you get sick and throw up,

but also if you're the person who refuses to eat when dealing with bad emotions,

she won't let you starve yourself,

she'll have you eat at least a little snack,

Also in terms of distractions,

Loona can talk your ears off if you need that,

She isn't that much of a talker,

but she still has a lot to share, personal stories, opinions, passions, random thoughts,

She'll talk about whatever and for as long as you want,

Also, words of affirmation,

If you need those, Loona will shower you in those,

Loona isn't all that good with expressing her feelings,

she's quite awkward and uneasy about it,

But she'll try her best to reassure you you're valid,

and that she loves you just the way you are,

No "but"s or "in spite of"s,

And she'll sympathize with you,

even if she can't fully understand your experience as she's not a succubus nor an asexual,

But she's supportive and feels for you,

and she's there for you,

that's what matters,

___________________________________________

[hopetorun]

i'd love to hear your beliefs about the tension in their relationship because i'm a very nosy bitch but obviously only if you feel like it!

lol well i did offer! beliefs is a strong word, tbh. more of a like ... is this stuff true? i don't know. but if i were writing a story where i wanted to have tension in that relationship, these are the places i would be inclined to introduce that tension. maybe there is tension in some of these places in real life! that's none of my beeswax.*

anyway: some places i think it is plausible that there's tension in the relationship, or at least plausible enough to play with in fiction. receipts on these where i can find them, sorry if they're paywalled but them's the breaks.

*unless they make it part of their public narrative

back in 2022 matthew was on the athletic hockey podcast and he talked about feeling "like a babysitter" when keith visits and how much keith enjoys being one of the guys. now mostly i think they probably have a pretty good time, but babysitter is a word choice there. i don't think it's a stretch to imagine that having your retired dad show up at your workplace and becoming the life of the party to relive his glory days could be ... trying.

not to beat around the bush but they're both opinionated guys! opinionated and chatty! and as a result you get: keith slamming the panthers on the radio. matthew sticking his nose into brady's contract negotiations (brady being grimace emoji about it). like, we know for a fact that the radio thing bothered matthew! and there's plenty of opportunities for one or both of them to offer unsolicited opinions that don't go over well.

to the previous point: i considered not including that because it's not as speculative as the others on the list. but it's definitely something i'd draw on if i was writing a story where their relationship is tense.

look, i'm not a man and not only am i not a man but i don't have any brothers and my dad died four and a half years ago and he never talked about his dad. so i can't claim to be an expert on the fathers-and-sons relationship dynamic. but why would i let that stop me from speculating wildly!

anyway: legacies. oldest sons. expectations. @ohtemporas touched on this briefly earlier, the way there's often an extra pressure on the oldest kid to be the same-gender-parent's legacy. do what i did. represent me well in the world. and i don't think it's even particularly weird for that to potentially lead to some conflicting feelings if all that legacy building leads to you being surpassed in some way. that's just human! especially for competitive people, and as i have said on this website before: no one becomes a professional athlete without being competitive.

here's keith being presented with matthew's 99th point puck from the 21-22 season, which his then-teammate did up with the writing for this specific purpose. chantal thinks this is SO funny. do think maybe being conflicted about being surpassed makes him not proud of matthew? no. but people can be complicated.

speaking of people being complicated: that one post-game after matthew scored 5 points on the blues. i think the tension between keith wanting his own team's success and wanting his sons' success isn't something people were making up out of whole cloth. but maybe it was especially noticeable when matthew was still in the western conference? i feel like it got dialed back after the trade. lol.

i'm mentioning it only because otherwise someone else might: i don't care about the hat thing. i think it's silly. if i was asked to throw my favorite hat onto the ice at an nhl game just because some schlub scored three goals i probably wouldn't.

a few concluding thoughts

i don't think any of this means they have a bad relationship! mostly i think that no two people have a perfect relationship where they agree on everything and never butt into each other's business uninvited and never hurt each other's feelings, because that's impossible.

i'm not making some counterpoint list of all the reasons i think they love each other. someone else can. i don't think having high expectations of someone means you hate them and i don't think anyone spends their time and money following their son's hockey team around the country on a road trip hoping to see him score his 100th point out of hatred or spite.

maybe i'm wrong about all of this and they've hated each other since 2002 and someday we'll get a tell-all story and people can come into my ask box or whatever and tell me how wrong i was. i don't care. all rpf characterization is fake. i watched keith froth at the mouth in the stands at the 2016 wjc every time someone so much as breathed on matthew, though, so i don't think i'm wrong.

[funkymbtifiction]

Hey Charity, I’m likely of the same type as your friend and they did a really good job of putting into words what it’s like to be one. The part on not sharing =/= not trusting the other person was particularly exquisite. I’ve never really thought about such matters myself, but it seems to be an important point for people to understand in general, for the sake of everyone’s collective sanity.

The misconception of not sharing = no trust is understandable because it seems logical but like your friend mentioned, is far too simplistic and fails to take into consideration that there are other factors completely unrelated to the other person. Basically there is some correlation between trust and sharing but it’s pretty weak. For the part on loneliness…I see it as more of something that may happen in future as a result of my current trajectory. It does worry me a little at times, though it’s rare, because a combination of factors is typically required for it to rear its head, and one of it is having too much time on my hands (between jobs).

I recall on perhaps two occasions thinking about the people I currently have in my life and evaluating in terms of quality and quantity of friendships. Essentially, I would try to figure out the answer to the question of whether or not we would still be friends many years later. I think of it as lower NiFe coming out to warn me but also screw with me a little lol. Aux Se quickly takes over though, and I get back into my usual routine of forgetting the matter easily and reminding myself that whatever analysis I was trying to do is quite a waste of time, given that 1) relationships change throughout life, with my ex-colleague-turned-good-friend being the best proof of that (ie. the present isn’t a restriction on the future) and 2) it’s not like I’m going to do anything about it - either I make friends in my next job, or I don’t. I’m not currently willing to do anything beyond that.

That said, my experience might be slightly different because I went through some unpleasant times and ended up alienating people, so that could be a contributing factor. And growing up, I saw my istj dad put up with this one friend whom I always wondered why he put up with, until it struck me that he was my dad’s only friend. I told myself to not end up like that. My dad’s great, but he’s also the stoic istj type…so, you know. That said, I roughly have an idea of how I come off to people.

I’m sure not one of them suspects I’ve ever contemplated loneliness. I think they are happy that we keep in touch at all lol. I can imagine 9s being slightly bothered by loneliness - or just anything really - at times but true to being 9s, are unlikely to mention it, ever. The last part on choosing the meal place is quite funny lol. I’m mostly the same way - the idea is that I genuinely have no preference, so it would make more sense for the other person to choose. That said, if the other person insists that they are the same way, and refuses to choose, I will take it at face-value. I think many people will relate to the next part - if someone swears they are fine with anything and turns out to not be, that will annoy me for sure. Because I genuinely am, and you my friend - are not. All you had to do was accept my offer and save us the trouble of going through this unnecessary process. Fortunately, I’ve never really encountered this. Because I double, triple-check and inevitably sometimes the other party goes, “Actually…”.

For people who don’t experience this - let me try my hand at a clarification. You might be thinking that it’s impossible to not have preferences at all, and you’d be right. It would suggest that every of our meals is selected completely at random, which can’t be true. The issue here is the relative strength of the preference. Of all the eateries in the mall, I definitely do have some I frequent more and some I seldom order from. But to me, the point of hanging out with someone else is to have a good time. Cue the ‘weighing’ game. If we pick the eatery I like the least in the mall, how much would it negatively impact my experience? Honestly, barely.

For me, a good time involves just two things: 1) either a good (not forced) conversation or doing an activity we both enjoy and 2) the other person is having a good time. The underlying assumption here is that the strength of my preferences is so weak that it can’t affect my enjoyment, but this may not be true of others. To maximize the nett enjoyment level the best option would be to have the other person pick the place. If this person is like me and on top of that has a personality where being forced to choose just visibly stresses them out, I’ll do it - again, nett enjoyment level.

Fun fact - I think none of my friends are like this. I think every single one has either mentioned a craving, had a recommendation, or something along those lines. That said I’m also the cave-dweller type who doesn’t explore and cannot remember places anyway, so they generally don’t count on me lol. And lastly, sometimes if a friend who usually chooses wants me to do it, I’ll pick something I know they probably like and I’m perfectly fine with. kcuniquesummer and all other high-energy types: the line between care/concern/enthusiasm and pushiness is sometimes almost nonexistent when you’re already toeing it. If the 9 is not a high-Se type, it’s even worse. Calm down and reign it in. If you can’t do that, learn to become good at observing so that you know where the limits are.

[k3rm1e]

cuddling headcanons! ★~(◡﹏◕✿)

this is more of a test thing to see if i like writing this way and if this blog does well

other imagines and headcanons won't include everyone i write unless it is specifically requested and is a prompt i really like

includes: wilbur nihachu karljacobs quackity dream georgenotfound sapnap p!tommyinnnit p!badboyhalo p!skeppy p!eret p!philza p!tubbo p!ranboo

cw: cursing

wilbur:

wilbur is a very cuddle-y guy

to me he seems very soft

i always see people saying he would like spooning, but i disagree

i feel like he would do more of a half-spooning thing with his head on your chest or the other way around

mans would DEFINITELY make you run your fingers through his hair

i feel like he would lay on your chest and just *nuzzle* into the space between your shoulder and neck

anytime you tried to leave him, whether it was because he had to do something or you had to, he would whine. so. fucking. much.

It would probably always go something like:

you - i need to piss

wilbur - no <3

but the moment he decides its time to stop cuddling its fine

and if you complain that you’re gonna miss him he’ll just call you clingy and tease you

like??? sir???

all in good fun though, no bad intentions :)

nihachu:

i feel like you and niki would face each other

with your head like under her chin and in her chest (this is a bad description but look at the “honeymoon hug” on the list for better explanation ;-;)

she would always want to protect you

so she does that by like almost guarding you and keeping you close

niki would definitely do the arm thing where she just lightly moves her hand up and down you arm

i’m so sorry if you don't understand that, it just feels like something she would do

if you haven't experienced that it kinda sorta feels like spiders??? but in a good way???

but generally she is very protective

she just holds you so close the whole time

even if she doesn’t want to let you go, she’s more understanding about it

she would be upset but wouldn’t show it because she doesn’t want to make you feel guilty

niki is generally just an amazing cuddle-r (is that a word?) and has a super comforting presence

karljacobs:

karl would definitely keep your head on his chest

the whole time he would just absolutely squeeze the life out of you

he would constantly bend his neck down to kiss your head

and instead of just like leaving his head down so he could kiss you it would just be:

*inner monologue karl* hmmm i wanna kiss them on their head

and he would lean down to do so which, cute

but then five seconds later he would do it again

and again another five seconds later

and again

very cute karl but please sir, your neck is gonna be so messed up after this

when you had to leave he would be upset, but like niki, would try not to show it

except karl is very bad at that and his pouting would be so obvious

so you would feel guilty and layback down with him

immediately he just becomes (●´ω｀●)

like a happy little puppy

karl is just too adorable for you to deny

quackity:

now we all know this, quackity is a huge dork

which is why i believe he would DEFINITELY use your butt as a pillow

not even in a weird way

i just feel like quackity isn’t too comfortable with touch so this is sorta his way of being close to you without it being a whole serious thing

like he still is able to be goofy and comfortable without it being a whole big thing

him doing this would almost always come with a flatty patty joke from you

which always causes him to threaten divorce, even though you aren’t married

while it isn’t a very good position for things like physical touch, it is good for talking and having conversations

for some reason i feel like he’s the type of person to text someone when they’re right next to each other

so while he’s laying down he’ll just send you random photos of himself

very annoying when your phone is spammed, but also good blackmail material >:)

i don’t think he’d be too clingy

obviously, he enjoys spending time with you

but if you told him you need to go do work or something he wouldn’t throw a fit or pout

big q just seems like he’d be more rational about stuff like that

overall a 420/69 cuddle partner

dream:

one word: spooning

mans just envelops you and has no shame

very big: “no you are mine! >:(“ energy

while he’s sleeping he’ll unconsciously nuzzle his head into your hair/the back of your neck

when you guys got to bed patches usually climbs in and you hold her

i love patches so much i could write headcanons just about her

dream always wants to be cuddling you

if you try to leave he won’t pout, there simply isn't a discussion on whether you’re moving or not

incase you haven’t caught on yet, the answer is no

you need to do work? just bring the laptop to bed

he needs to edit? just sit in his lap at his desk, duh

obviously, he knows at some point you guys need to stop cuddling

he just isn’t too stoked about it

when it comes time where he absolutely can’t cuddle with you, i feel like he’d be more chill

mainly just annoyed

georgenotfound:

i feel like george, like quackity, also wouldn’t be too touchy

i’m pretty sure he has a hard time expressing emotions (please correct me if i’m wrong!!) and i think that would crossover to his sleeping habits

i think he would prefer a sort of back-to-back cuddling position

it seems cold, i know

but also he would most definitely kick at you

so every night while trying to go to sleep suddenly you would just feel *kick*

and then instead of sleep you’re suddenly playing footsie

lots of laughter and warm feelings involved

george would probably pretend that you kicked his leg hard or something and act like you hurt him

the first few times you were actually worried

but then after a few months your only response was a sarcastic “cry about it”

which just led to more laughter

sapnap:

sapnap and you would do a sort of leg hug thing

you both you try to go to sleep in a cute spooning-type position

but the moment one of you fell asleep it all unraveled

you would wake up apart but you’re legs would still be touching

sapnap would joking blame it on you

“wow can’t believe you don't wanna be close with me even when we’re asleep”

“it’s not my fault! i can’t control where i end up when i sleep!”

“no, no. you don’t have to lie. i see how it is.”

“>:(“

but it's okay!

your legs are the first thing to react in a flight-or-fight situation, so they usually react in an honest way

which is like your legs are both reaching to hold each other!

p!tommyinnit:

i don’t get a very touchy vibe from tommy

i feel like the most he would do is put his arm over your shoulder

not in a flirty way, just in a “hey, there isn’t a lot of space, this will make sitting down more comfortable” way

he will let you sorta fidget with his hand/arm

i don't know if that makes sense but what i mean is that he’ll pretty much let his arm go *flop* so you can control it (by like moving it around or playing with his fingers)

in the beginning he would get annoyed

but eventually he would get used to it and wouldn’t really care

it sounds a bit strange but i personally find it very comforting to just have something to fidget with while watching youtube or netflix in bed with my friends

and it’s entertaining (sometimes i do this to me sister to annoy her :>)

he would act like he didn’t mind if you left him

but holy shit he is so clingy

If you try to leave it’ll just be “no, why??? stay here dumbass”

you would be slightly annoyed when he had to leave  but knew he had to film and stream and all that so you would be okay

p!badboyhalo:

you would kinda sit within bad’s lap

like not on his lap, but more of in between his legs

he would have his arms around you

and his phone would be in front of you so you two could scroll through twt or instagram together

or you guys could watch skeppy’s youtube ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

rat would sit in your lap

she’s just;;;;;;;; so adorable

rat is just so soft and fuzzy in your lap and everytime you move to pet her she just melts

rat is the the superior cuddle buddy to any of these block people

p!skeppy:

skeppy, similar to quackity, is a total dork

he would make sure you guys were in a position where he could effectively troll you

so if your head was near his lap he would just flick you or some

“dude can you please stop hitting me in the head”

“it turns out i am not actually hitting you in your head because based on the perpendicularity of the bisector multiplied by the photosynthesis of the dividend, it is impossible for me to do so”

“wtf”

lya is so goddamn sick of you guys

she's trying to get him to actually do something but instead he’s just sitting there throwing paper airplanes at you while you sleep

he’s an annoying asshole but it's okay because he gives you money for absurd reasons

p!eret:

eret has such a comfortable presence

i feel like she wouldn’t be up for cuddling too much

more of like putting your head on a friends shoulder so you can see the tweet their showing you

but they do like to hold hands

holding hands isn’t very intimate but it's also just such a sweet comforting thing

she even holds your hand when you guys are out walking around

like if you guys were getting food somewhere (post-covid of course)

you most likely would get addressed as a couple

and he would just be like”...wut?”

it’s happened so many times at this point you just go along with it

“you guys look like such a cute couple!”

“oh we aren't-” “thank you!”

can you tell that i love eret?

p!philza:

phil always has such dad vibes

i feel like the closest he would get to cuddling is hugs and hand holding

even though cuddling isn’t inherently romantic, he is married to kristen

so i fell he would get most of his touch in with her

but with you he’s just so fatherly

hello dadza

whether you have a good or bad relationship with your father, everyone can admit that philza minecraft is dadza

this is such a dad thing, but tries to hold you hand when you cross the street

no matter the age, he just feels the need to protect you

hugs are similar

uses hugs as a way to comfort you and protect you

just so amazing all around

p!tubbo:

tubbo would love cuddling in any way, shape, or form

if you guys are hanging out at like the park or something and lying down

get ready to become this mans pillow

this is really fun to do with your friends but imagine you guys are hanging out in a field type area (with my friends we hand out in the field next to the cemetery but it can be any open grass area)

tubbo would just use your lap as a pillow the whole time

and when you guys were walking back to his house he would sorta drape his arms over your shoulders (assuming he’s taller than you)

he would do the same thing when you guys were sitting in chairs or at a desk

just drapes his arms over your shoulder with his chin on your head

if it's really late and he's tired he’ll just hug you

p!ranboo:

if you thought tubbo is bad, ranboo is even worse

not even really cuddling, he just likes having a sort of skin-to-skin contact

so handholding and laying on top of eachother

if he’s streaming he will legitimately message ou to just sit next to him

so sometimes if he’s just chilling by himself on the smp you’ll end up on his streams

he’ll have you next to him just because he likes be near someone

and so randomly it’ll just be like “chat, a real human is here, behave”

chat does not behave

(they heavily bully him)

he’s pretty clingy but when you HAVE to leave he’ll understand and just be a bit bummed out

holy shit this took me so long-

if you read this whole thing thank you!

[silversatoru]

i made this instead of doing my stacks of homework ^

step bro!itadori yuuji x f!reader

synopsis: i don’t think i even have to say this but you get stuck in a dryer and your step-brother yuuji fucks the shit out of you

t/w: 18+!!!, aged-up yuuji, stepcest, noncon/dubcon, manipulation, filming without consent, mild impact play, creampie, mild overstimulation, mild dumbification (but also reader is just dumb), mention of masturbation

w/c: 2.3k

a/n: hey!!! i joined this super fun collab hosted by my new gf @suna-reversed​ (thank u for letting me be a part of it!!) so if you enjoy this i highly recommend checking out the rest of the talented writers in this collab :) the jujutsuhub masterlist is here !! also,, biggest thank u my lovely friend @brandmeyelena for helping me to plan and perfect this fic throughout the entire process <333

you were a good daughter, certainty not the sharpest or the most intelligent, but you were helpful and compliant and you always did your chores. and you truly didn’t mind helping out around the house either; sweeping the floors and doing the dishes was easy enough, but there was one task that plagued you a bit more than the rest — doing the laundry. the buttons were just so confusing, and there were so many of them! and on top of that, your short stature made it nearly impossible to empty the fresh clothing out of your top-loaded dryer. 

you were struggling with that exact issue right now, pushing onto your tip-toes as you tried to reach that last pesky sock stuck at the bottom of the dryer. your finger tips brushed over the warm fabric, just an inch short of being able to snatch it into your hand.

you wiggled your hips a little further, your feet lifting off the floor and your weight shifting so you fell deeper into the dryer. you were finally able to grasp the sock, but you were unable to push yourself back out, feet swinging wildly as you tried to squirm your way out of the machine.

“hey, what are you doing?”

your face flushed at the sound of your step-brother’s voice coming from behind you, your senses becoming suddenly aware of how far your dress was riding up your thighs. a pitiful whimper of embarrassment slid past your lips as you realized you couldn’t even pull your dress down — you needed both hands to hold you up and prevent you from falling into the dryer. 

“ah! yuuji! ...i got stuck,” you pouted shamefully, thankful that you couldn’t see his face right now.

“again? isn’t this like... the third time?” he asked it like a genuine question, but you still felt stupid for getting stuck in the same predicament multiple times.

“mhm, can you help? please?” you whined at him, still wiggling your hips in a poor attempt to free yourself.

this only made your dress slide higher, the underside of your ass cheeks becoming prominently visible against the edge of the fabric. yuuji couldn’t help himself, gabbing his phone and snapping a few secret pictures of your exposed back-side. he planned to save those for later, maybe jack off to them if he was bored, but then a different idea flooded his head — you were no position to stop him from doing whatever he wanted right now.

he propped his phone up on top of one of the various laundry baskets, starting a video recording without your knowledge. then he waltzed back over, sliding a single finger under the fabric of your dress and tracing his finger around your round ass cheek. the sensation of touch made you flinch, your mouth gaping open as you fumbled over your next word.

“y-yuuji?” you stammered, trying to move away which only caused your ass to jiggle and shake more than it already was.

“shh, i’m helping,” he murmured, stroking his finger all the way down to your thigh.

he moved his other hand over your pretty cunt, the fabric of your panties hugging perfectly against your folds. he brushed two of his fingers up your clothed slit, causing you to yelp and continue to wriggle around.

“step-brother? what are you doing?” you continued to question him, your voice light and laced with confusion.

“i’ll help you get unstuck, but you have to repay me somehow, little sister,” he clicked his tongue at you, an evil grin that you couldn’t see stretching his lips.

he continued to poke and prod at your soft, clothed pussy, his mouth salivating as he imagined the things he could do to you in this position. every brush of his fingers coaxed gasps and whimpers from your lips, your worries and protests falling on deaf ears.

“y-you’re my brother, yuuji! w-we can’t do this!” you continued to argue, but his gentle fingers were starting to feel really good — small streams of fluid flowing out of your cunt and seeping into your panties.

“it seems like you want me to,” he observed, poking his finger at the small wet spot that was forming now, “and mom and dad won’t be home until later. no one will find out”.

you felt his strong hands weave their way underneath the straps of your undergarments, swiftly pulling them down your thighs and letting them dangle from your ankles. you sucked in a sharp breath at the feeling of your wet cunt being exposed to the cool air, shifting your hips and filling yuuji’s head with more sinful ideas.

you couldn’t see anything (with your head still being stuck in the dryer) but you heard your brother’s own pants fall to the floor, a loud clank of his belt buckle against the tiles confirming your suspicions. everything about this felt so wrong, but at the same time, you’d always been shamefully attracted to yuuji — eyes lingering on his chiseled chest for a little too long when he walked around the house shirtless.

your head was swirling with thoughts like: would it really be that wrong if the two of you indulged in each other while no one was around? it’s not like you were actually blood related or anything.

on the other hand, yuuji had a one-track mind, and he wasn’t having any of the doubts that you were — he had a tendency to listen to his dick instead of his brain. and right now your round, plump ass was staring him in the face and begging to get fucked. how could he not take advantage of this opportunity?

he lifted his hand and gave a firm slap to your right ass check, earning a gasped yelp from you which made his dick twitch and strain. he mumbled under his breath, something along the lines of ‘i’ve always wanted to do that’ but it was kind of hard to hear from the depths of the dryer.

he’d used a reasonable amount of force, a puffy handprint forming on the surface on your skin. he decided that the other cheek should match, delivering another firm strike to the other side and watching you squirm and whimper at the impact.

he grabbed his phone and pulled it over for a few close ups, showing off the swollen skin to the camera. he then placed a finger at the front of your entrance, the puffy, slick walls sucking it in as he delivered a few warm-up strokes with his hand. the camera picked up on all the grotesque squelching noises made by his finger in your cunt, as well as the embarrassed yelps and moans leaving your lips.

now that you had two matching, swollen hand prints, and your pussy had been properly prepped, he decided he was ready for the main course. yuuji returned his phone to its spot on the laundry basket before grabbing a low stool from the corner of the room and setting it in front of the dryer so he could stand on it for easier access. his cock was red and veiny, begging for entrance into your tight cunt as he wrapped one hand around it to position himself.

you’d always imagined your step-brother’s dick to be lengthy, and your assumptions were proven correct when your felt a tight pressure in your core. his girthy size pushed and stretched at your walls, pained mewls leaking from between your teeth as you clawed at the bottom of the dryer.

yuuji let out a groan that was almost animalistic, throwing his head back and placing a firm grip on either side of your hips. the way your pitiful form was positioned on the dryer gave him excellent access, the curve of his dick allowing him to stretch you deep, reaching all the way to the spongy patch of tissue that made you feel so good.

a jumble of grotesque noises filled the room, a chorus your sloppy moans, yuuji’s pleasured grunts, and the steady slap of his hips on your ass. he’d imagined what this would be like more times than he could count — fucking himself into his fleshlight and mumbling your name while he did so. but no matter how many times he’d dreamed of this moment, he never expected your walls to be so tight — so perfectly snug around his cock.

“yuuji!” you repeated his name a few times, head so dazed from the overwhelming bliss that you’d forgotten all about the initial guilt you’d felt.

“see, i knew you’d like this, little sister. your big brother would never steer you wrong, would he?” he knew his words were manipulative, but god, you were much too dumb to understand or grasp the concept of manipulation — you’d just agree with him like you always do.

“no! he would never!” you whined, letting your head dip lower into the dryer so he could fuck you at an even better angle.

your messy cunt squelched and squeezed a small stream of juices down your thigh as he picked up a deeper, faster pace, your moans becoming higher and more unsteady in response. he could feel your sloppy walls fluttering and constricting against him, his fingertips digging deeper into your hips as he let out a few breathy moans.

the tip of his cock slammed into your pleasure spot with every stroke, voiding your brain of any cohesive thoughts you might have had hiding in there. you moaned and whimpered over and over, whining yuuji’s name like a mantra as drool spilled from your lips.

yuuji could almost imagine your perfectly fucked-out face — your eyes rolling into your head and your mouth hanging open lazily. he grunted at the thought, deciding that the next time he fucked you it was gonna be somewhere that he could watch your face and really enjoy the show — because there was definitely going to be a next time.

there was a tight coil forming in your stomach, building up more and more the longer that your step-brother railed himself into you from behind. you hardly even noticed how sore your hips were getting or how numb and tingly your legs were from being bent over the dryer, yuuji’s dick filling you up so well that those things became an afterthought.

after a few more pounds to your oozing cunt that hit deep enough to graze your cervix, you felt a heightened wave of pleasure begin to crash over your body. surges of the most blissful sensation you’d ever felt racked through your systems, your whines becoming borderline screams as yuuji fucked you through your orgasm.

the way your warm, messy walls fluctuated and gripped around his cock pushed him close to his own climax, but he wasn’t quite ready to be done with you yet. he continued to provide heavy, forceful thrusts, abusing your now sensitive cunt and moaning loudly as your juices squelched out around the edges of your entrance. the disgusting sounds of your fluids squeezing out around his cock nearly sent him over the edge again, but he was determined to ride this out for as long as he could.

“it’s too much!” you wailed between heavy breaths, every stroke sending jolts of overstimulation through your clit.

you wiggled and whined, legs clenching together in defense and causing your pussy to wrap even tighter around yuuji’s dick. the added pressure and increased pleasure was something he could no longer surpass, succumbing to his own orgasm just moments later.

“fuck, feels- too- fucking- good- shit,” he grunted a long string of mostly profanity, emptying his hot release into your caverns as you continued to cry out and whimper underneath him.

yuuji had fucked you even stupider than you already were, your head way too dazed for you to even realize he was filling your insides with warm, sticky semen. he milked his orgasm all the way through and then some, his cock aching and twitching by the time he finally pulled it out of your white-stuffed cunt.

he wrapped his toned arms around your waist, finally pulling you out of the dryer and attempting to stand you up. but between the lack of blood flow to your legs from being stuck, and the good fuck yuuji had just given you, your lower extremities were in no shape to hold you up. you sunk right to the floor, your messy pussy spilling everywhere and leaving puddles of fluid and semen.

“thanks for helping me get un-stuck, big brother,” you looked up at him with admiration, blissfully unaware of how he was using your utter stupidity to his advantage.

“of course, you want me to carry you to bed?” he gave you a sympathetic look, squatting down with his back to you.

you hummed happily, wrapping your arms around his neck and climbing onto his muscular back. he carried you down the hall and into your room, laying you down and handing you an old towel for you to clean yourself up with. you were a pitiful site, hazy eyes and an ignorant smile resting on your face as yuuji admired your damaged little cunt for a few more moments before returning to the laundry room.

he grabbed his phone and ended the video, thankful that you were much to oblivious to notice that it was recording the entire time. he was definitely going to hold onto the recording for safe keeping and later use — and shit, maybe he’d even upload it to pornhub and make a quick buck too.

[i-put-the-yan-in-polyandry]

i've been thinking about a sagau x monster prom crossover for DAYS

usually my brainworms give up by now but nooooooo

it's just nonstop so i'm gonna share some of it with you in hopes that it'll either go away or at least give someone some amusement

the main premise is god!reader being a member of the cast, not one of the main prospects but they show up a lot (or they are one of the options but, y'know, like the most difficult route bc the requirements need like a perfect run to meet & even then it's treated as a one off thing (you're devoted to your people/protecting this poor soul from them))

the entire cult was isekai'd and the others can make appearances, but you tend to try and avoid intervention bc you know this is a game and you don't know if it also counts as yours (either way you're pretty set as teyvat's god and you don't think they're willing to share, gotta protect the world, the coven would be proud)

i see the cast seeing you as kinda boring in the 'doesn't resort to violence, murder, or drugs and actually gives a damn about the less fortunate????' but also that puts you closer to the 'must protect' category with blobbert and scott

zoe is the only one who actually knows that you're mx god of gods and the two of you vibe on being more ancient and powerful than everyone else while usually being depicted as the more normal or harmless than the rest (aside from particular moments, like Zoe lashing out, but those are triggered by an outside source)

please feel free to troll the fuck out of leonard and maybe kill and revive him a few times can't be arrested if he's not dead

i feel like your secret ending would revolve around finding a way back home and like maybe creating a way to go back and forth so you can still spend time with the pc bc you gotta give them that satisfying ending (or maybe they come with idk it won't last)

fucking love imagining the various possible scenes where people find out you're not as harmless as you seem, maybe a full run of that could be a second secret ending

honestly really like the idea of god reader meeting damien's dads for some reason??? but like damien's my fave and i love him and his dads and their relationship so it's not surprising

BUT AGAIN WITH ZOE

the two of you can totally complain about your cults (yours is an "organized religion"? ok whatever) together and how over the top they can be, but you definitely count yourself lucky that yours is so much better (though i suppose they do get better in one of zoe's secret endings, you'd probably cameo there)

calculester would love you, finally one of his friends has a fucking MORAL COMPASS (the coven too)

let loose sometimes tho, you gotta keep up with the shenanigans

PLEASE punch the interdimensional prince in the face

also it'd be so cool to hang with valerie and you're not monster enough for the slayer to go after you so you and aaravi can hang too!

omg talking video game stuff with aaravi she'd be so interested in the artifacts and weapons from teyvat

you can hear the narrator btw & sometimes discuss with him how much you can do without messing up the game's progression (letting you build up a whole ass unofficial empire w/ your group behind the scenes, the advice on how to keep out of vera's sights and away from any in-game powers (the only real threats, let's be honest here) is op)

any time anyone says anything like "but that's impossible" you can just pipe in like "since when does logic apply to spooky high? just ask [player name]"

yes you say player name there :)

AND IMAGINING THE WEEKEND AND LUNCH BITS NOW BYE

just it's so fun???

ALSO ALSO LET'S TALK SPRITES

i'll leave most of it to your imagination but you could totally give cameos to your faves! like half the genshin cast (ok that's an exaggeration but shhh) can transform, just like, kffjsdjgkslk wisp venti or birb xiao chilling on your shoulder??? carrying around a fox yae??? idk how canon it is but ik a lot of people on here like talking about a smaller dragon zhongli and like just keep him on your shoulders it's perfect

[deadlyanddelicate]

alright so. 14x10 ‘nihilism’. written by yockey and directed by amanda tapping so i already knew i was in for a treat but holy shit.

it’s 2am and i am processing so this is neither exhaustive nor polished but uh. so michael traps dean inside his head and we get to see the fantasy he’s stuck in. hold that thought. 

let me just jump ahead to sam and cas getting inside dean’s head for a second. let me feel some type of way about cas noting - in a somewhat aghast way - the sheer amount of trauma in dean’s brain. like!!! you’d think cas knew, having pulled dean out of hell and everything, BUT. cas was very much just castiel then. an angel, more empathetic than most, with too much heart definitely, enough heart to start feeling for dean - but he didn’t know dean. he wasn’t in love with dean yet, or at least he didn’t feel that love in a human way. imagine cas now, with all the feelings and trappings of humanity, having to come to grips with the fact that dean’s mind holds that much horror and pain inside it. that’s a whole other level of heart-wrenching. like-- he knew dean had suffered but now he knows dean has suffered. it hits different. I have to wade through all of Dean's most terrible memories, he says, filled with dread.

(and then, of course, we get sam’s tragicomic statement that - well duh, of course michael wouldn’t keep dean HERE, dean thrives on trauma!!! because it’s all he’s ever known!!! like. the delivery is funny but the statement is deeply deeply heartbreaking).

so. they have to head towards contentment. and what does dean’s contentment look like?

a bar. not a bar to get wasted in but a bar that he owns. not a fancy bar, either, it’s kind of empty and dingy, because this is definitely not dean at his happiest; either the amount of stress and self-loathing he carries makes it impossible for him to envision true happiness even in his mind, or michael simply didn’t want him to be too content bc he’s a bitch like that. but still, the bar is his and he refuses to sell it. (I've never had anything this nice, he says, breaking my damn heart in the process). nice or not, the bar, ultimately, most importantly, is a place of his own, where he can be safe and provide shelter and hospitality to other people. a place where he’s not hunting (though he will still fight monsters if he has to). 

i repeat: HUNTING IS NOT PART OF DEAN’S CONTENTMENT. he will stay at the bar, and he will fight if necessary, and fight damn well, because he’s good at it. but mostly he will wait for his family to come home, and he will feed them and pour them drinks and shelter them from the pouring rain. do you get that??? do you understand how insane it makes me??? dean’s source of contentment being the obtaining of a home that he’s been yearning for since he was four and had it ripped from under him??? dean AS THE HOME, as the nurturer and carer and protector of the people he loves??? and like!!! a part of that contentment is specifically waiting FOR the people he loves to come back to him - to come home to him, because he wants to be somebody’s home!!!! (that he can’t really envision it happening until sam and cas crash into his mind is its own different brand of tragedy but i digress).

and of course, there’s pamela. pamela who’s been a fantasy before, but never an attainable one - pamela of the ‘jesse forever’ tattoo, pamela who teases threesomes and immediately negates them by being intentionally too outrageous and including sam in the suggestion. pamela is a safe and reassuring fantasy because dean can’t get her: because she’s taken or because she’s too much for him or because she’s dead or because she’s... plainly put, not what dean really wants. which, deep down? he KNOWS.

DEAN How come you always have a boyfriend?

PAMELA How come you only want what you can't have?

DEAN Whoa.

PAMELA Besides, you don't want me. You just like to flirt. I'm a psychic, so I kinda know.

DEAN All right.

isn’t that just. unhinged???? dean acknowledges that he wants what he can’t have. and he’s not talking about pamela, of course he’s not talking about pamela, a minor character who died all the way back in season 5. what he wants is the person he’s waiting for at the bar -- and who yet never seems to arrive (the person who’s always leaving, always leaving, and not nearly coming back enough). what he wants is the person that he thinks he can never have, because surely angels just don’t feel that way, right? when they try to care it breaks them apart. it can’t be. it can’t ever be, but he can wait for cas, in case he ever decides to come back, and he can pour him a drink when he does.

(this is even confirmed in a roundabout way by michael, because we know this michael blatantly lies: e.g. he tells sam dean was at his happiest when sam left him alone with their (neglectful, abusive) dad, when we know that dean was miserable. and he also tells cas dean only tolerates him out of obligation/gratefulness, so... pretty safe to say dean feels the opposite, and that in fact he very much wants cas for himself.)

my two main takeaways here are: one, that dean’s contentment - not even his perfect dream, not even his happy ending, but the baseline for dean’s contentment - depends on having a home of his own, quitting hunting, caring for his friends and the people he loves. so, you know, well fucking done on delivering that with the finale.

and two, that even in his own head, even when trapped in a fantasy that is literally trying to keep him from yearning for the outside world, dean is still just hoping for the bare minimum for himself, still always waiting for the people he loves to come back to him and stay, and he can’t even conceive of having what he truly wants -- what he’s waiting for, always endlessly and inevitably waiting for -- because the one thing he wants, it’s something (he thinks) he can’t have. sound familiar?

[lostysworld]

A healing touch – Kaz Brekker x reader

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 (final)

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x reader

Warning: OOC (so much for Kaz),fluff!!!!!!

Summary: Kaz is ready to give a second chance. It leads to finding his true place around you.

A/N: I've done this, guys!! I've done fluff!!! Hope you'll like it :D

Masterlist

For the whole next week you are helping your parents, who are trying to plan you soon-to-be birthday. No need to mention, you don't want to celebrate, when your head is busy with what happened between you and Kaz.

You love him, really love. And you aren't even angry at him, because everyone makes mistakes. But sitting like this, doing nothing and waiting for Saints know what is slowly killing you.

You met with Inej and Nina for several times to discuss it, but they couldn't advise nothing, but to wait.

Your mother, in her turn, decides to invite all your friends. Means, all the Crows will be at one place at the same time, and it's definitely going to be fun. Maybe you just need a little bit of distraction.

Your birthday is your father's day off, so your house is soaked with pastry smell from base to the roof from the very morning.

Since your dad is preparing everything at home, it is your turn to help your mother at her work. It is where Kaz's messenger finds you.

A small note shakes in your hands slightly, as you can't stop it.

"If you didn't change your mind, come"

You chuckle. In the end of the note you see a small ink scratch of a crow foot. Kaz always signs notes for you that way.

– Are you planning on standing like that and keeping him waiting?

Your mother's voice rings from your back.

– How do you-

– You have this face again, - she smiles shortly at you and nods towards the door. – Go, girl. I can manage this place by myself.

The wooden door squeaks and you come inside the office. Kaz is sitting behind his table as usual, but he instantly stands up, when you appear at his doorway.

– Hey, - your awkward smile lightens up his worried face a bit. – Something important for me?

You don't know why he called you here, but don't want to have a false hope.

– Yes...it is important, - the man comes up to a drawer and takes out a silver bracelet, the one that matches your pendant. – Happy birthday, Y/N.

He extends his arm to you for taking it, but you only come up to him and cover his gloved hand with yours.

– I will never change my mind, Kaz. Not for you.

Brekker sighs heavily and raises his glance on you, making you shiver. You have never had a thought of how it could be hard not to see him for a week.

– You will be in danger every single minute of your life, - his firm tone makes you nod. – And we will both live under constant pressure.

– Fine.

– Not to mention, that I can never give you a full life, and-, - you make him stop with your hand on his, giving the man a slight squeeze.

– What do you think full life is, Brekker?

He shakes his head, aware of the fact, that you will never agree with him on this point. A faint smile of yours reassures him a bit, and when you start speaking, he relaxes.

– Having you by my side, Kaz, is pretty enough for me. Frankly, - you slowly take off his gloves, one by one, laying them on the table. – It is the only thing I can dream of.

You are so close now, and want to kiss him so badly. Brekker's gaze drops to your lips and you understand his intention quite clearly.

With a shaking breath he moves to you, and you can only imagine how hard it is for the man. Yes, he advanced greatly with this, you can now even allow yourself an accidental brush across his hand, but a kiss is another thing.

– You don't have, if you don't want to, Kaz. I can wait.

He shakes his head reluctantly, and lays his bare hand on your shoulder.

– The problem is that I don't want you to wait, Y/N.

With that he slowly shortens the gap and brushes his lips across yours. It is merely a kiss, but it feels like heavens for you, as it is literally your biggest dream, that, you think, was impossible.

The grip on you shoulder tightens, and you can barely hold back a smile. It is a big move for Kaz and you as well, so you can't be nothing but proud of him. Even if he is a bit nervous.

Then he breaks the kiss after a dozen of seconds and touches your forehead with his, staying like this for some time.

– It is not stolen.

– What? - you leans back to meet his gaze. The man nods towards the bracelet on the table he gave you.

– The bracelet is not stolen. I bought him in-

You shut him up with another careful kiss, this time more passionate, not afraid for his reaction. You can swear, Brekker grins tensely in the kiss, as you can feel it with your skin.

Kaz Brekker, Bastard of the Barrel, bought a birthday present for you, matching with his previous gift. What else could you dream about, really?

– I turned out, - Kaz tries to calm his breath. – Liking you a lot more that I originally planned.

– Is it anything, that you don't plan?

– You, kissing me for the second time. It wasn't planned.

You chuckle and instantly find his other hand to hold, but he halts. Seems, it's too much for him in one moment. Brekker gives you an apologetic smirk.

– You are doing great, - you smile to him, trying to reassure.

– I still need time to work it through.

– You are not alone, Kaz, - he keeps staring at you in a kind of awe. – We will work it through. I will help you.

Brekker grins at you and reaches for the bracelet on the table to lock on your wrist.

– Will you come to the dinner?

You suddenly remember about today's birthday party. Now, when everything is settled down between you two, you can think about planning again.

– I'm not sure-

– Everyone will be there, Kaz. And you know my mother will be happy to see you.

Brekker hesitates. Though you don't want to force him and rush the moment. But it would be lovely to see him along with your friends and family.

– You know, I don't suit family dinners, Y/N.

His half broken voice makes your heart ache for him. Why he can't understand this? He is worth everything. You know his fear of not being able to give you full live pretty well. Because partly it is your fear too. That your efforts will be not enough for both of you.

Not to worry Kaz even more, you lay your hand on his elbow.

– I will be waiting for you today's evening, love. But it all is up to you.

You turn to leave, not noticing him freeze from the nickname you give him. He surely doesn't let it just pass by. And when the door closes, he still stands in the middle of his office, trying to collect himself after your visit.

The noise in your house is pleasant with everyone chatting and telling stories. You look them over and smile. Every Crow finds its place here.

Nina is busy with your mother at the kitchen, dragging Matthias with her. Jasper is telling your father about shooting and Inej only smiles shyly, when your mum tells her to make herself comfortable.

Everyone is on the place. Everyone except Kaz. He still doesn't show up, and your hope is slowly getting lost in a cword laughing.

You know it is not his intention to upset you, Brekker just doesn't like big companies and can't find a proper place for himself.

And when the sudden knock on the door rings, you instantly rush to open it. The wide smile appears on your lips as you see Kaz, who's grinning shyly at you.

– You came! - you want to hug him, but refuse just in time.

– Happy birthday again.

You smirk and nod towards the room.

– Won't you come in? - that hope in your glance is so visible, that you don't even need to beg the man. – The party isn't complete without you, Kaz.

He chuckles, coming closer to you, but shakes his head reluctantly.

– It's too crowded for me.

– It's not a crowd, Brekker. They are your friends too, - seeing that you almost win, you continue to force him. – Come on, Kaz, join us. My mother adores you.

– Yes, that's exactly what I'm afraid of, - he surely notices another woman's steps towards the door, and steps back to hide in the shadows, but your mum is not that naive.

– No, no, Mr. Brekker. You will not fool me like this, - you put your lips in a thin line to hold back a laughter. This woman knows how to get under someone's skin. – We saved a seat for you. So, hurry up.

With that she comes back to the kitchen.

– You heard her, Kaz. You have no choice now.

The man walks out of the darkness with that one-sided grin, the one you love the most. He comes in to let you close the door.

Everything goes well, you mother is hovering around Kaz like a mother hen, that makes you smile even more than before. It isn't really a birthday party, but a family dinner just with more members.

– So, you, Mr. Brekker, are up to illegal things here in Ketterdam, am I right?

The sudden question from your father makes everyone shut up, even Jasper. Little do they know, he isn't a strict man. He asks it just out of interest, and they shouldn't be nervous like this.

Kaz tenses and you don't get to somehow show him, that it's alright, when your mother comes back from the kitchen with her famous apple pie.

– Do not scare our guests, Y/F/N. Let them enjoy the dinner.

You suppress a smile to your mum, who stands next to Brekker, knowing this question is for him. Seems, she likes him most of all and even ready to protect from your father's curiosity.

Your father starts cutting the pie.

– I don't care what he is doing, until he's a gentleman. Manners make the man.

Kaz casts a glance to you across the table, and you just nod to show, everything is okay. He's a perfect gentleman, it's for you to know for sure.

When the dinner is over and the Crows go to the Slat, Kaz stays for a little, letting them to leave you two alone.

It's long past midnight, when you walk him to the entrance door.

– Thank you, Kaz, - he comes out and turns to you. – Your presence means a lot to me. And your gift too. Thank you.

He nods, but isn't going to leave. You close the door behind you and take his gloved hand to lead him to the nearest bench. The day was amazing, and you are not ready to let him go yet.

The skies are glowing with millions of stars tonight, and your glance is stick to it. You don't notice how Kaz is looking at you.

– Thank you for the invitation then. I have never had a family like yours to be around.

Your eyes meet his and these sad sparkles in his voice makes you thinking of something.

– Well, you have now. A very big one, actually.

Kaz glances at you, making goosebumps run down your forearms. How can a single glance give you such reaction?

You know, that he's hard to persuade, but you really want him to know, that he has a safe place to go to.

Brekker doesn't respond and when he switches his gaze above his head to look at the starts, you notice his eyes are a bit watered.

You think about how much he suffered, and how you can help him to make peace with his past from now. You, your friends and your family will be always here for the man.

The sudden thought of his last improvement comes to your mind.

– Kaz, - you call his name, but he doesn't move. – Your brother would be so proud of you.

He immediately turns to your, eyes are searching for something on your face. But you are serious as never before. Brekker's trauma is a constant reminder of Jordie, but he can't remember his family like that. There should be something good in it.

His glance slips to your lips, and for a couple of moments he can't take his eyes off. He takes one shaking breath, overwhelmed by unspoken words and emotions.

– May I.

You know that this day is the hardest for the man, and you're pretty aware of his boundaries, but just can't let yourself stop him.

You nod and he takes one of his gloves off, slowly caressing your cheek. When he is about to lean forward, you stop him in an inch from his lips with a whisper.

– You are the strongest person I know, Kaz Brekker.

Your heart sinks down, when his lips finally touch yours in a slow tender kiss.

You want to embrace the man, but try to keep your hands out with all your strength. With every second passing, you feel Kaz relaxes, and it brings smile to your lips.

He brakes the kiss and furrows.

– What? - Brekker's face almost makes you grin more. You shake your head.

– Nothing. Just love you.

Actually you can do it all night long, telling him the truth and watching him falling in a sort of shock. And his reaction only encourage you to go on every time.

The man shakes his head in disbelief and gives up a smile, the kind you didn't see before.

– It's...I'm a fool, when it comes to revealing feelings, Y/N, - you shake his world completely, but Kaz starts getting used to it. – But I want to tell so much.

– I will not force you into anything against your will.

He shakes his head and moves closer. You are so warm and radiant, he just can't stay cold and collected with you around, doesn't want to anymore. Of course, for everyone else he is still the same Kaz Brekker, but not for you.

– I just want you to be patient at this point, Y/N.

– I've been knowing you, Kaz, for two years, - your light chuckle touches his heart. – Patience and I are long friends.

– So? - he raises his brow to you.

– So, I can live with that, Kaz Brekker. For as long as you will have me.

This smile of his can melt you to the ground and you smile to him back, turning your gaze to the skies again.

After a second you feel his gloved hand covers your fingers, and grin.

This day is your pure bliss, and you two will endure everything else together.

So, this is the end of it! Thank all of you for likes and comments, I hope you really enjoy it ❤

Actually, I have an idea of writing The darkling x reader imagine. Maybe, you'll be interested :D

[venivivividi]

headcAnon ✨ here! How great were the Rosa and Michael moments?! And Jones is Michael’s dad! He and Alex should start a support group. I wanted to ask if you have any headcanons about Michael and Alex and fatherhood. If you think they ever thought about it and what. What kind of parents they would be. If you think they will have kids in the future. Adoption or using a surrogate or some other alien option. Maybe dog or cat children also or instead.

I know, right?? They definitely speak the same language even when they disagree with each other. Also, I have a feeling that Michael has taken to send Rosa every picture of a dolphin he finds online with the same commentary: "look. it's you ahaha" I love them.

Oooh, fatherhood, you say? What a wonderful topic to tackle after the latest episodes...

I have to say, I tend to separate what I think realistically would happen, informed by canon, vs what I'd like for them to be in my headcanons, and to this day we canonically know:

Michael has thought about fatherhood: this is something he wants in his future and has dreamed about in the past; we learn this in two separate occasions, in 2x10 when he offers to father Isobel's child and in 2x11 when he tells Flint he wanted to start a dad band.

We have zero insight on Alex's thoughts on matter: we know his childhood was not a happy one, his relationship with his father is extremely negative and his entire family's dynamic is skewed, unhealty. That could reasonably push him towards two completely opposite directions: either he wants nothing to do with kids and a "traditional" family, deemes himself unsuited for fatherhood or he wants to somehow "avenge" his lost childhood and create the happiest family in the world, proving to himself that he can and will be a good father. Either could be and anything in between, honestly. (I'm not gonna delve into that but let's also remember that Alex grew up in a reality where gay marriage was not legal until he was like 23 and adoption was a pipe dream even after that, so that has clearly influenced his mindset even without considering the military of it all)

But for the sake of the HCs, I choose to believe that Alex is at least open to the idea of having children:

I dont think this is something they would go for very early in their relationship. They've had such a turmoiled past, they overcame every possible obstacle so that once everything settles down, they just enjoy each other's company for a while. They still can't believe they just get to be together without jumping through hoops.

As far as pets are concerned, you heard it from Mimi first: a beagle is written in Alex's future. But first, he tries to convince Michael to get a reptile. You remember Willow, his pet lizard? She was so cuute, Micheal, it's basically zero maintenance (completely false, but hes' trying) and it's so cool to have a lizard, c'mon.

Michael, as we know, is incapable of looking Alex in the eyes and deny him something. But it takes one google search for him to veto Project Lizard. There is no way he's allowing a lizard in his house after learning what they need to be fed. Also, lizards escape their enclosure. No thank you, the same night he learned too much about it he had a nightmare about waking up to a lizard stuck to his curls. Always protect the curls. No lizard.

Alex pouts. A lot.

Once the beagle settles in the truck ready to go to his forever home, Alex stops pouting. (and Michael starts because Alex is now cuddling the beagle at night. woe is Michael.)

As this thing usually go, Michael is instead adopted by a kitten, one of those impossibly small black balls of fur. Their first encounter at the junkyard went disturbingly High Noon, but after they claimed each other, the kitten is now stealing Michael's body heat and Michael is stealing all the cuddles Alex is so rudely denying him in favor of *scoffs* The Beagle.

Speaking of Sanders' Auto, once Rosa(...linda) starts picking up stray kids and unexplicably bringing them to Michael, it comes to be a place where kids who need to escape orbit around: with Sander's blessing, Michael always finds some easy work for them to do and earn some money, and when a couple of them seem truly interested, a question here and a question there quickly turns into a Michael Guerin lesson on mechanics. Those of them who are not interested, are free to just hang around as long as they dont wreak havoc or make a mess out of the place.

The thing is, Michael is completely unaware of the irony in all of that. Sanders is not, and he just hangs around smirking to himself about how much of a grumpy old man Michael is shaping up to be and laughing at history repeating itself and things like that.

It takes Isobel talking about them as Michael's junkyard children for Alex to bring the topic up. I mean, Michael is basically already doing it, and if they start fostering teens they could give some of them the happy childhood Michael never got. After that, not every kid who passes through the junkyard stays with them but some of them do, and some of them keep hanging around even after aging out of the system.

There is a panicked moment after their first foster kid gives him the silent treatment, where Alex runs to Greg for guidance; Greg has to politely remind him that he's an elementary school teacher, and his 16 years old kid might not react with the same energy to glitter glue and a happy song, so he has to figure out a different way.

Eventually they start to foster smaller kids too, and of course sometimes it's sad when they have to go and the house feels empty, but they always try and remember: it's not for them, it's for the kids. And during those nights The Beagle™ needs to find cuddles in the now domesticated ball of fur, because Michael is in very big need of a snuggle that Alex is more than happy to provide. It's how he recharges too, after all.

As far as their parenting style, Michael's a lost cause: he is incapable of not spoiling the kids because, why deny them the little joys if there's no harm in it, right? They deserve them. But he also realize the kids need structure, and he is pretty no-nonsense about it, also because, on the other hand, Alex is very much afraid of being the strict parent. It's a new chapter with every new kid, as every instance of parenting is, but the baseline of a good home is always there: love and safety.

I also can't seem to decide whether Michael would be the kind of hip parent who knows all about the youngsters culture, uses the correct terms and shares the right memes or the most embarassing dad who watches instagram reels about tiktoks and is always six months behind the last big thing. But I feel there's no in between.

Alex, sadly, despite being a cyber intelligence specialist, still mourns last.fm and that tells you everything you need to know.

Somewhere down the line, once they've collectively bought enough land to build a communeplace for all of them to live together while still maintaining a semblance of privacy (Isobel's broad interpretation of boundaries has not changed, sadly), the possibility of a full Oasian becomes a reality. The thing is, this is not just Isobel's baby, this is the podsquad baby, the triad's baby. Isobel and Michael might be the biological donors, but this is their baby.

As you can easily imagine, this is the most spoiled baby ever, because each one of them expect the others to be stern, when in reality, the baby has them all wrapped around their little fingers, and this is without powers, yet.

The first time Alex holds the baby he is completely overwhelmed: they seem so tiny, so fragile, but when he gently strokes his thumb on their forehead, they open their big, staring eyes, and everything else disappears.

Michael, you ask? Ooh, Michael is gloating. He never thought he could have half a thing in his life and now he has everything. He also self-appoints himself as the defender of the baby's curls: that entails slapping the hand of everyone that tries to play with a lock of hair to make it bounce. Do you know how annoying that can be? Leave the baby alone.

Of course, Michael is also a little shit and as soon as the baby starts talking and figuring out a way of calling them all, he tries to make them refer to Max as grandpa, to the utter hilarity of Liz and the total indignation of Max. He has yet to succeed, but the baby's still young, so Only time will tell.

[spvce-cowboy]

gentle things

ch. 2 of i’ll be here in the morning (the mandalorian x fem!reader)

previous- ch.1: “a strange beauty”

next- ch.3: “reunion”

rating: mature

8.5k words

warnings: mutual pining, masturbation (f), alcohol, descriptions of gore

summary: after a few months on the Crest, you find yourself growing closer to your new companions.

a/n: the gay agenda is finding a way to slip a dolly parton song into a star wars fanfic, i rest my case.

**

Most mornings you wake to the child’s soft cooing. Occasionally, the sound is met with a low, modulated voice, that murmurs incoherent phrases in response. It somehow puts your heart to rest before you even remember where you are. 

It’s strange, you’ve been a resident of the Crest for a handful of months now and it sometimes still takes you a few moments each morning to reorient yourself. You blame it on the strange limbo of hyperspace—it always throws you off for at least a day or two, and you swear your dreams are more vivid after. Sometimes you wake up panting for no reason at all.

You’re adjusting pretty well. A bit strange having a roommate/boss who doesn’t acknowledge your presence beyond the occasional but respectful nod. But it’s way better than you could have possibly imagined when you first started turning the idea over in your head. Granted, that was when you were about elbow-deep in his chest cavity, trying to fish out pieces of the shoddily constructed weapon that broke off inside him. You needed the first way out that presented itself to you, something you and Am’ile both agreed with, and well, when opportunity strikes or whatever.

Your first evening on the Crest, you asked the Mandalorian where you should sleep and he just shrugged, handing you a single, scratchy blanket with a “this is all I have.” Later, when you pass his bunk as he’s taking a nap, he’s curled in on himself on a bare cot and you realize that threadbare piece of fabric was literally all he had. You don’t bring it up, but something in your chest softens towards him after that. There’s a new quilt folded neatly on his bunk by the time he returns from his first mission.

Your second day onboard, you found a metal table in a junk heap and pushed it against one of the walls in the engineering bay. You spent the better part of an afternoon figuring out how to weld it to the floor. The medical supplies went on top, then you pushed your pillow and your rolled-up mattress underneath. Sure, there was technically a second cot in the Crew’s quarters, but you wanted to give the Mandalorian his privacy whenever possible. Besides, as long as there wasn’t too much turbulence, your set-up was pretty great.

After a few missions, you’ve visited enough markets to buy an ample supply of blankets, sweaters, and pillows to keep you comfortable on the floor of the ship. It’s freezing most nights, especially in hyperspace, and cocooning yourself in as many warm things as you could manage helps stave off both the chill as well as the occasional home sickness. The collection you’ve amassed thus far is in a various mis-match of pale jewel tones that remind you of Am’ile’s house. You didn’t realize that until you’d piled them all together on your bed and you couldn’t help but laugh at yourself a bit.

The child loves your soft things, happily snuggling up with you for naps while waiting for the Mandalorian’s return—though you suspect he’s just grateful for the new company. A consistent presence while dad’s away. You’re happy to give that to him.

The new routine is comfortable, the company is nice, the work is relatively easy. And, stars, the things you get to see. It’s honestly more than you could have ever asked for.

When your eyes blink open it’s already around eight in the morning. You’ve landed on Nevarro where the Mandalorian has already been gone for a day, attending some kind of “extended business meeting,” as he put it. Yawning, you eventually roll out of bed and stumble into the fresher, blearily rubbing the sleep out of your eyes with the spray’s cold water. Stepping out, you wrap your towel around yourself. In the tiny metal mirror suspended over the sink you pat on some lotion onto your face, eyes still heavy.

Reaching for your toothbrush, your knuckle grazes one of the Mandalorian’s facial razors. You wince, flicking your hand before examining it. A tiny nick. Sucking on it for a second to stop the blood flow, you glance at the Mandalorian’s side of the cabinet.

It’s strange to see the most banal traces evidence of what he is, who he is, behind the all that beskar. Like the facial razors—to think he’s in here, maskless, shaving his face, while you’re playing with his kid or whatever just a few steps away. To think he takes a shower every day—er, well, you’re not sure about that one, but at least when he’s on the Crest—stepping out and wrapping a towel around his waist in order goes about his little tasks.

You swallow, removing your hand from your mouth and grabbing your toothbrush before your mind can wander anywhere else. You brush your teeth particularly well that morning.

The day is pretty typical from there. After feeding both yourself and the child breakfast, you settle on the floor of the hull with the small metal ball he’s obsessed with. You place him a few feet in front of you, he sways slightly on both feet before plopping down to mirror you, hands stretched forward in an demand to be put in your lap.

“Let’s do some of the exercises, yeah?” You know you’re essentially just talking to yourself as you hold the ball in the air, but you might as well make the effort anyway. Am’ile was no stranger to kids like him, or at least that’s how she put it—something about her people and some other group, the specifics completely slipped your mind. She didn’t really elaborate and you knew not to press.

Even though you don’t know much, you do try to mimic Am’ile’s drills-disguised-as-play at least a few times a day. He only seemed to do what you asked during those sessions when you weren’t looking, distracted by cleaning or studying whatever book you’d picked up hours later. You would always find the little ball in strange places, definitely not where you’d last placed it, and certainly out of the child’s reach.

At least it was good to know he was partially pretending to not listen to you. You could work with partially.

The kid has been fussy since waking, refusing to focus on any of the things you were trying to prompt him to do. Yesterday, you spent a bit too much time at the markets with him—growing sick of protein bars, you initially set out trying to find something closer to tasting like home. Really, you just liked getting out of the Crest so you could see all those people.

You’ve amassed a collection of language dictionaries, trying to do some fast learning and even faster practicing to get your way around. Sometimes the vendors are kind and help you stutter your way through disjointed sentences in their native tongue, others just huff and immediately switch to Basic as soon as you start talking. You don’t mind either way.

The marketplace as a whole is new and exciting, the clatter and clamor of movement, laughing and snarling, voices raised in argument and lowered in the smallest exchange of intimacy. So far removed from the quiet slopes of Am’ile’s home and—

You don’t let the rest of that thought happen, quickly scooping the kid up and wrapping him to your chest with a long swath of fabric.

“I’m goin’ a little crazy in here too, little guy,” you mumble, pulling your satchel over your shoulder. “Your dad should be back in a while—let’s try to find a contact for supplies until then, yeah? Shouldn’t be too hard.” A total lie, it was way more difficult to find what you are looking for than you initially thought. You were particularly looking for a cauterizing instrument that was a bit more sturdy than the glorified cigar lighter the Mandalorian was currently using. Besides basic med-kit stock, it was nearly impossible to find anything more advance under the radar.

Yesterday was half-heartedly spent searching the markets in search of someone who might be tapped into Republic supply runs, which rendered you, predictably, empty-handed. Now you were on to your second best option, asking around the closest cantina where you could find the instruments you were looking for for without raising too much attention.

Okay, so maybe the Mandalorian specifically told you to keep out of the bars when you’re traveling without him. But you managed just fine on your own yesterday in an arguably more crowded environment. You’ve also dealt with… far worse than that hunk of metal could ever possibly imagine. You’re more than capable on your own. Still, you make sure to strap a dagger and a blaster to your belt before heading out.

You make quick work hurrying to the cantina, making sure to cover your head with the hood of your tunic and conceal the little one as much as possible. Basic survival instincts usually warrant drawing as little attention to yourself as possible, being a young human woman traveling alongside a small green wizard creature is pretty much the opposite of that.

He, predictably, doesn’t take very well to the concealed swaddle you’ve confined him to, and the two of you are in a constant back-and-forth of you attempting to wrap him up and him making quick work of wriggling out of any cover tactic you try. If it weren’t for those damn ears your life would be so much easier.

The bar has the quiet hum of activity, occasionally interspersed with a loud chatter of conversations rising to some kind of boiling point. You maneuver yourself to the counter and try to get the attention of the bartender, holding the kid to your chest until he squirms his way upwards and settles with his chin on your shoulder, one of his ears slipping out of the head covering you’d fashioned and thwapping you in the neck. You’ll deal with that in a second.

You’ve only just caught the bartender’s attention when the doors slam open. The clamor of the cantina quiets momentarily, and you see everyone shift slightly to eye whoever just entered. The two new patrons seem to be in the middle of an argument, voices low in secrecy but tense with frustration.

“I’d know that green mug anywhere.” With that you finally turn, heart dropping with anxiety. It’s the Mandalorian and a companion, a human man. The man’s voice, a deep bellow, is warm and inviting in a way that shouldn’t make you freeze completely as he addresses the kid. He then looks you up and down, pausing as the Mandalorian continues stomping forwards. You freeze anyway. “Ah—this is that girl you mentioned? Your caretaker?”

“She’s a medic,” the Mandalorian sharply corrects the man without moving to look at you. He quickly returns back to whatever conversation was initially at hand as the man continues his brisk stride towards a table at the back. There are three people already seated there, but by the time the Mandalorian arrives they have all left in a scuffling hurry. Neither of the men acknowledge it, just immediately slide into opposing sides of the booth. “Karga, this is ridiculous--I’m not a Republic spy, why would there be this many hoops on a bounty you’re just handing out?”

“I’m not just ‘handing it out,’ Mando, I’m giving it to you because I know you’re the most capable,” the man, Karga, addresses the Mandalorian then directs his attention towards you. “Come here, girl. Let me get a good look at you, I’m curious.” Turning to the bartender, he barks out an order for spotchka. You walk towards the table. There’s too much attention on the three of you to resist, you wouldn’t want to make things more complicated for the Mandalorian anyway. The bounty hunter’s voice almost immediately overrides his, low but gritty with anger as you slide into the booth beside him.

“I can’t—Karga you know I’ve never done something like this. This high-profile. Going deep-cover for a job isn’t something I can do.”

You feel Karga’s eyes on you, it’s brief but piercing. You busy yourself by looking up at the woman who serves you a small glass of the bright blue liquid, quietly thanking her.

“It’s all the fobs or nothing. The signal will be broadcast in a few hours’ time—they won’t expect something like this to be conducted semi-publicly. Keep monitoring the broadcast, but save that fob for last,” Karga places three fobs in the center of the table, then slides a forth a few inches removed from the rest. He can tell the Mandalorian isn’t convinced—stars, even you can tell he isn’t convinced. Karga heaves a sigh and makes a stab at reassurance. “You can figure it out. You’re the only one I can trust to get this done. The most capable.”

The Mandalorian’s hand slams down on the table, you jump, quickly looking between the intense but even staring contest going on between Karga and the infuriated bounty hunter. Slowly, and with more than a bit of melodrama, the Mandalorian drags the fobs under his hand towards him, slipping it into his pocket without breaking eyes from Karga’s.

He turns heel so quickly his cape whips behind him. You scurry after him as fast as you can manage.

You can still feel the frustration steaming off of the Mandalorian the whole walk back to the Crest. You keep quiet, trailing behind him by a few steps—you desperately want to ask what was wrong. Your mouth stays firmly shut.

Boarding the Crest, the Mandalorian immediately scales the ladder into the cockpit. After a few minutes you feel the Crest shutter into the air, quickly shooting into the empty sky and then hyperspace. You sigh and grab a book, turning the kettle on to make some caf and settling in your bed to an eye on the kid as he toddles around the expanse of the hull.

Hours later, when the child has exhausted all possible forms of entertainment, usually consisting of live wires and exposed paneling that you tug him away from, he begins to get fussy in a way that means he’s tired but refuses to sleep. It starts with the occasional whimper that quickly crescendos into a full-blown fit. You know all the warning signs at this point.

The little terror had a bit of a habit of doing this—once the Mandalorian and you are in the ship he refuses to fall asleep unless you two are in the same room. A part of you knows this is a symptom of separation anxiety—which you in no way can blame him for, given the circumstances of their bond—but the cockpit is just about the last place you want to be.

It’s not that you’re scared of the Mandalorian, or anything. It would just be… incredibly awkward with the mood he’s in right now to attempt to lull his kid to sleep in his presence.

“Listen, buddy, your dad is super grumpy right now so—" The child just starts crying even louder, little fists balled up to pound futilely against your chest, trying to push you away. “Okay okay okay! I get it. I get it.” You sigh, biting your lip and looking down at the kid, then up at the ladder. The kid starts screaming. “Yeah, yeah. Alright.” You begin the climb up.

“Hey, sorry he’s being a little sensitive again,” you say as your head pops up onto the pilot’s deck, miraculously managing to pull yourself into the room with one arm holding the squirming kid against you. The floor seals shut behind you once you haul yourself over the edge.

The Mandalorian just grunts in response and continues flipping through radio channels, seemingly growing more frustrated with himself the longer it takes for him to find the frequency Karga directed him to. He’s in the pilot’s chair, back turned to you, shoulders hunched in concentration.

You settle into the copilot’s seat, resting the kid on his back on top of your legs. He settles almost instantly, big eyes no longer filled with tears.

Rolling your eyes with a small smile, you tickle him lightly until he starts giggling, then scoop him back up into your arms, allowing yourself to slide back in the chair a bit. You stare out into the bright darkness of space, blinking back at the stars as the child coos gently in your lap.

“A coded civilian station, is he fucking crazy?” The Mandalorian mumbles to himself in his continued litany of abuses he’s slung Karga and the greater universe’s way since returning to the Crest.

The longer you’ve been here the more he’s started to do things like that, just talking into the air without the expectation of a response. You begin to think that that’s just the way he acts when it was just him and the kid. Though you’ve noticed that he has been cursing way more than he did when you first met. That might be a little bit your fault. Oops.

You look down at the child and rub one of his ears, leaning down to press a kiss at the crown of his head. His little three-fingered hand catches your hair and pulls. Wincing, you resist the urge to jerk your head back. Instead, you extend the pad of your index finger and lightly wiggle it against his button nose. He sneezes and lets go almost immediately.  

You let out a triumphant “ha!” then shake your head slightly and twist your face in a playful scowl. The kid resumes his giggling, batting at your hands when you try to tickle his tummy.

Glancing over at the angry hunk of beskar seated beside you, you notice he’s paused with his hand hovering over the radio’s controls, his head turned slightly towards his right shoulder to silently regard you and the child.

You quickly divert your gaze back down to the kid, resuming rubbing his ears as his eyes slowly, devastatingly slowly, ease shut. Only to snap open again with a playful babble, hands reaching up again for the free entertainment of the hair still attached to your head. Shit. You sigh. The Mandalorian goes back to flipping through the channels.

More static and garbled languages you’ve never encountered before. You try to ignore the pounding of your heart—that was probably the longest you’d ever seen him grant you any kind of attention—and keep trying to lull the child to sleep. As quietly as possible you try to stand, scooting around the copilot’s seat to gently bounce the kid in the limited space to the back of the cockpit. He’s quieted significantly, just enough that you could probably get him to sleep on your own, as long as you don’t jostle him too much on the descent back into the hull. You’re about to head down the ladder when—

The Mandalorian pauses momentarily on a channel that’s playing music. The opening swell of the first verse is unmistakable. Your chest fills with a certain warm feeling, pounding with memories you had long since tucked away.

“Wait,” you say it without thinking. Without even processing that the words left your mouth. “Wait, could you go back? That… that song…”

Wordlessly, he clicks back to the previous station. The cabin is filled with the music, a warm and bright voiced female vocalist smoothly intertwined with her male partner. The melody is plucky, something you could dance to—and have, more than once—and it’s overly saccharine in its pure, absolute joy in itself. But you suppose the cheesiness is part of the charm. You relish in it regardless.

You do something to me that I can’t explain. There is a memory that surfaces just as quickly as it disappears. You couldn’t have been more than four. Your father, spinning you around by your pudgy forearm. It’s his laugh you remember most of all, something boisterous and full-bodied. You are dancing around the kitchen of a home you can’t remember, the floor dappled with light from the pieces of stained glass your mother had dangling from the windows. Hold me closer and I feel no pain. You smile to yourself, bowing your head down at the little one, quietly murmuring what lyrics you remember, rocking your hips in a gentle little dance. It works, the kid is fast asleep by the last chord.

The song ends, the disc jockey begins speaking in yet another language you don’t recognize. The Mandalorian quickly turns the volume down, lest it wake the child. He has reflexes fast enough to startle you, luckily your jolt does nothing to bother the baby in your arms. You gently place him in the pram, hovering beside the pilot’s seat. You slide the shield doors shut to keep out the noise and step back.

“Thank you, Mandalorian,” you say it softly, but you can see his helm bob slightly in a nod of acknowledgement. You take a deep breath and begin to head towards the ladder as he resumes flicking through the stations.

“Hey,” the Mandalorian says your name. You pause for a moment, then turn. He clears his throat—the sound comes out as a rough crackle over the modulator. If you didn’t know any better, you would think he sounds a bit nervous. “You can uh… you can just call me Mando, you know. The full thing is a bit of a mouthful.”

You blink once, then nod. Turning heel you, mercifully, scale back down the ladder with as much grace as could be mustered, despite your shaking hands.

That night, when you touch yourself, you shove the blanket he gave you against your nose and mouth. To keep quiet, you tell yourself. It smells like his soap.

**

Days after the radio incident, you can’t help but occasionally find that you’re singing the song to yourself as you go about your chores. It just seems to pop in your head as soon as you open your eyes, and it’s just stuck there, but you’re not very mad about that.

Mando has landed on some bitterly cold planet that was made up of little more than ash and a thick red fog. He had left late last night/early this morning to start his hunt, telling you in a little scribbled note to expect him back in two days’ time. He has really bad handwriting, it’s strangely amusing.

You decide to deep clean the hull: washing the floors, doing laundry, organizing what meager new supplies you were able to gather from Nevarro. As you did, you sang to yourself. Out loud. Just for the pleasure of it.

Your mother taught you kulning, as was tradition for the young girls on your home planet. Your father taught you the low-bellied croon of the casino singers. When things were still good, you would sing for your parents friends at the parties they would throw and your father would play the piano. You wish you had more memories like that. It’s hard to recall anything through the foggy barriers of the past fifteen years, it makes something in your chest ache to even try.

Am’ile’s radio was for emergencies only, not wanting to draw unwanted attention with the signal. It has been ages since you’ve had access to one, ages since you’ve heard music that didn’t come from your own mouth. That was why you’d started the nightly calls at Am’ile’s because before that grassy little planet… well, speaking was barely an option. You’d seen too many girls hurt for things far less than murmuring a tune.

To sing in the way your mother taught you, with the whole of your body. To make yourself so boldly known. It was all you had ever wanted.

You start putting together dinner for you and the kid as the day winds down. Mando had a barely functioning hotplate that you were able to make the best of, having bought some fresh produce at the far more hospitable planet the three of you were stationed at the previous day.

The stew cooks while you finish up the rest of your work, slicing bread and setting up a little dining area for your and the kid because, frankly, why not go all-out? It’s good to treat yourself to the small, gentle things. Even when on an unforgiving rock hurtling through space. Especially then.

You hop in the fresher while you wait for the meat to get to the proper temperature, twisting your body to keep your hair out of the water’s blast. In the enclosed space, you feel a less self-conscious and allow yourself sing a little louder than the under-the-breath, partial-hum you’d managed throughout the rest of the day.

You don’t hear the hull opening between that and the fresher’s spray.

When you turn the water off, you recognize the sound of the last few mechanisms of the hull door stealing itself back in place. Anxiety settles in quickly as you dry off. God, please let it just be Mando please. There’s the sound of something heavy being thrown against a wall. You wince.

A low voice. “Pretty little bird you’ve got singing in here, just for me?” Then a wet crack. “Mother fuck—"

Your heart lurches in your chest as you quickly pull your clothes on, cracking open the fresher door to peer out into the hull. Mando is standing over the body of a target, now crumpled to the ground, holding a bleeding headwound with two long, thin hands. He nudges the bounty with the butt of the weapon he had presumably just used against the man’s skull. The man gives a choked moan, completely incapacitated.

“Do you…” your voice sounds far too small. You blink, inhaling and starting over. “Do you need to bring him in alive or do you need my—"

“The carbonite will stop the bleeding,” Mando’s voice is gruff. You nod, even though his back is turned to you, watching from the safety of the doorway as he leans down and lugs the whining body into the chamber. Once the bounty is sealed away, you step back out into the open.

Mando pushes past you almost without recognition, limping heavily.

“Hey—hey!” You trail behind him, reaching out to touch his arm. He flinches. “Could you at least let me do my job?”

He regards you for an extended beat, then readily sits. It’s more of a controlled collapse.

“Is it your leg?” You ask, kneeling beside him and helping him peel off what armor you can. He shakes his head.

“It’s just more of a bruise I—my side, my hip. Onto the top of my leg.”

You nod slowly. “Okay, can you get to the fresher yourself or do you think you’ll need help? You have to rinse off before I treat you.” There’s an almost clay-like layer of red dust on his clothes and armor. It would be impossible to treat him properly without getting most of it off.

He wordlessly extends a gloved hand for you to help him up, you oblige—albeit struggling a bit with his weight. Once standing, you hover beside him on his limping walk to the fresher until he gives you a short: “I’ve got it.” You back off, returning to tend to your dinner while you wait.

When he emerges again he’s only wearing a sleep shirt, his mask, and a towel, the fabric held at the hip by his clenched fist to expose an already bruising thigh. He sits on a crate with an audible wince, easing himself back to lean against the wall slightly.

Your throat constricts as you move to his exposed side, but you try to breathe evenly enough to maintain an air of professionalism. Which gets increasingly difficult when he, with another sound of sharp pain, pulls up his shirt to reveal a series of small, shallow punctures traveling up his flank and over his hip that slightly weep with a mixture of blood and the cold water on his skin. He holds the shirt, just below his pectorals with his opposing hand, allowing the towel to drape over his lap while still revealing the side you need to work on. You can see the faint cut of his abdominal muscles, tracing south alongside a thin trail of dark hair leading--

“Shotgun pellets,” his voice stops your thoughts before they can get any worse. You’re partially thankful. Glancing up, you furrow your brow in confusion. He clarifies, “they’re a uh… a projectile type weapon. He was fighting dirty and desperate.” You nod, looking back down. The worst of the spray was able to score the skin right above his hip, but most of it had just bounced off his quad, leaving a series of raised, purpling welts. It was superficial at worst, but still not the best to look at. He seemed to read your mind. “Beskar was able to deflect them for the most part. I’ll be fine, just cauterize the worst of it.”

“The more you use the cauterizer the more of a chance you have of the scar tissue getting infected, you know. That’s some business you want no part of,” you say, digging through your kit for a pain ointment and the bacta you were able to refill on Nevarro. The more you looked at it, the more foolish of a blow for him to have taken it becomes. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re doing this on purpose,” you’re muttering it to yourself before you can fulling think through the implications. When he doesn’t say anything, you glance up at him. “That was a joke.”

“You need to work on your material, then.”

You laugh, shaking your head to yourself as you get to work. It’s easier to feel more confident around him the longer you’ve acclimated on the Crest. You have a bad habit of using snark as a defense mechanism. The more you work with Mando, the less you’re able to keep that up. It feels nice, you can relax slightly when you’re given the reassurance of him reciprocating the conversation.

You finish pressing the last of the bandages against his side. “The pain stuff I used should start sinking in soon, it might burn for a bit beforehand but it’ll get better after a few minutes.” He nods, pulling the towel tightly around his waist before standing and limping back into his quarters. He returns, fully dressed, putting a little more pressure on his leg than he did before he left. You quickly, desperately, find a way to conceal your staring.

“Hey—I have a surprise for you,” you turn to the kitchenette, busying yourself by testing the stock with a messy sip. It’s not… the best thing you’ve ever made in your whole life, but it’s the closest thing to the meals you made with Am’ile that you’ve had since you left your old home. It smells lovely, enough to have filled the hull with the smell of the herbs you used. “I thought it was just gonna be me and the womp rat so I made dinner, if you wanna eat with us that is.” You pull out the bottle of wine you bought from one of the storage drawers, a slight heat rising to your cheeks. You hold it up triumphantly anyway. “I really just needed an excuse to buy this for myself. But I totally understand if you’d rather eat upstairs by yourself.”

“Thank you,” he says hesitantly. “I’ll… I’ll stay while you eat. I can take mine to the cockpit once you’ve finished.”

“Would you want to have a glass with me, at least?” You hold the wine bottle by the neck at your side. He’s grumpy. Part of you wants to find some way to fix that, knowing it would be hard for you to let yourself enjoy the rest of the night with him fuming over something just upstairs. “I’ll cover my eyes. It’ll be like when I brought you your meals, while you were fixing the ship. No peaking. I promise.”

He takes a moment, before nodding slowly, for some reason you’re kind of surprised he agrees. Maybe that’s why your smile is so big. Maybe it was the fact you’d already cracked the bottle open for a few sips before taking your shower, the warmth of it at the bottom of your stomach making it much easier to playfully prod at the bounty hunter. Probably a mix of both.

You kneel beside your bed to gather another pillow, placing it across the makeshift table you’ve fashioned out of two crate and one of your blankets. You turn to bring the rest of the food to the table, three wooden bowls and a plate for the kid. You’re in the middle of separating the meat from the broth for him when you glance up at Mando, who is still standing exactly where you last saw him. He points to the tuft of fabric you had placed on the floor for him.

“What’s that for?”

You’re not sure if he’s serious or not. “Um, comfort?”

He doesn’t say anything, just cocks his helmet slightly to the left.

“Alright, old man,” you roll your eyes, refilling your cup . “Suit yourself.”

Mando pauses for a second longer before easing himself onto the pillow. He says your name softly, almost to himself. “This looks… really great. Thank you.”

“Well I wouldn’t take it to heart too much, chrome bucket. I was planning on hoarding all this for me and the kid. You just came back at quite the opportune moment,” you grin cheekily up at him before tearing your piece of bread and dipping it into the broth.

He reaches across the makeshift table and picks up his cup. You’ve repurposed the tops of two of his thermoses to make them. He examines it in his hand for a moment before speaking.

“Were you singing that song that was on the radio, yesterday? When I came in?”

“Yeah,” you laugh, shaking your head to yourself as you reach over the table and grab the cup in his hand to fill it with the wine. “I haven’t heard it in ages, you know? Any music at all, honestly, but especially that song. It was one of my dad’s favorites,” you detract before either of you could linger on that last statement. “It’s been in my head all day. I was meaning to ask you, when it comes to the radio—it probably wouldn’t be a good idea for me to listen while you’re on the job, yeah? Tracing signals and all that?”

Mando mulls it over for a second, accepting his cup from you and staring down at it. “I’m not sure. Better safe than sorry, but I could ask around about getting a uh… one of those new portable ones.” You don’t want to tell him that those newfangled portable radios have been a thing since you were in the cradle—something about his technological obliviousness was oddly endearing. “I’ll ask around and see if there’s some kind of blocking signal we could install. If you’d like one, that is. I’d like to take a sip, now, if that’s okay?”

You nod, immediately putting your hands over your face. You know you could just squeeze your eyes shut like oh, maybe a normal person might? But to be honest, it was a little funny to do. To act this silly in front of one of the most effective killing machines in the galaxy, who you have somehow convinced to attend a quaint family dinner. Might as well mess around a bit with it, yeah?

You hear the hiss of the mask resealing but you don’t remove your hands from your eyes. “It’s good wine,” he remarks. “You can look now.”

Removing your palms from your face, you blink your vision back to clarity, reaching for your cup again. Your mouth is already growing warm in the way that let you know that when Mando meant good he also meant strong. You have to agree.

“The people on Am’ile’s planet would make this crazy strong liquor out of these peaches that only grew in the valley where we lived. The village that was closest to us got super wealthy off of the stuff--honestly I can’t stomach anything too sweet anymore after it, spent an equal amount of time coming up as it did going down, if you get what I’m saying.” You screw up your face at even the thought of the syrup-like drink. “The orchards were super beautiful, though. The tallest foliage in the valley and they were maybe only a few heads taller than you. All types of critters living in the roots—that little one loved it.” You gesture to the child, who was grabbing as much of the dish’s meat as he could in his stubby three-fingered hands. The rest of his plate remained untouched. “Am’ile and I used to take walks through it all the time, especially when I first got there. It was too dangerous to go into the forests by yourself so I would spend ages in the orchards if she wasn’t putting me to work, just for a change of scenery.” Your mouth kind of just keeps running. It just feels so… nice, to talk to someone without having to try and stutter your way through a new language. That and the liquid courage in your cup made you unapologetically chatty. “She had so many little trinkets and things from her travels as a Republic medic, but only like ten books tops, all on medicine. I literally have the things memorized at this point, they were the only things to read.”

“You could go back at some point, if you want. When there’s a lull in jobs I could probably drop you and the kid off, spend a few weeks with her while I keep hunting,” Mando casually picks up his glass again, and you automatically cover your eyes with your hands. You’re still smiling, just with a little weight behind it.

“No, no that’s okay. Am’ile would get in too much trouble with the locals, for good reason. It isn’t safe for them and—to be honest, Mando, I don’t think the kid could take being separated from you for that long,” you pause for a moment. “But that’s incredibly kind of you to offer, thank you. I mean that.”

His mask hisses back in place. You ease the index and middle finger of your right hand to peer at him playfully before lowering your hands again. It’s a gentle spar between the two of you, an easy rhythm to settle into.

“Your med-station,” he nods towards your table/bed set up, looking particularly messy in comparison to the hull you’d spent the day cleaning. “It’s…”

Your heart drops, ready for the scolding. “Ah—uh, I’m sorry.” You look down at your plate—even if he couldn’t see the heat rising to your face, you try to hide your embarrassment by stabbing at another bite of food. You glance up at him sheepishly. “It’s the only place on the Crest that’s tucked away enough, I didn’t want to get underfoot.”

“No, no.” He shakes his head. You swallow. “I like it. A good idea. It’s like a reminder whenever I leave, not to do anything too stupid.”

“Oh, well,” you’re not sure why that catches you off guard so much. You honestly had no idea he even processed your presence since you’d first moved in besides the occasional medical assistance you provided. “I’ll make sure to put the more intimidating syringes front-and-center the next time I organize it.”

And he laughs.

Well—so, okay. It’s not a full laugh, more like a few low releases of air, but there’s a clear smile behind it that you can definitely hear. It’s enough to have you slightly grinning to yourself the rest of the meal.

By the time you’re finished, you’re a bit hazy off the wine and incredibly sleepy. You lean back slightly and yawn, looking at where Mando has settled the kid on his lap. “Sometimes I wish I could just snap my fingers and he’d just go to sleep. There’s too much energy in that little guy.”

“I can take him for the night,” Mando is currently engaged in a gentle dance of keeping the little one’s hands away from the food you’ve portioned for the bounty hunter. It’s more amusing than it should be. “If you could just help me take this upstairs I’d be more than happy to.”

You nod, clamoring to your feet and grabbing his bowl as he climbs up into the cockpit with the kid. You follow and place his dinner on a clear spot on the console.

“Where are we going next?” You ask, glancing over the control panel as if you had any idea what all those flashing lights and strange looking scanners meant. You should really pick up a flight manual at some point, just for the basics.

“The last fob,” Mando sighs. “Canto Bight. This—this is going to take a while, just warning you now. I still have no idea how I’m going to pull this off.”

You nod, yawning. You’re still a bit tipsy. “Okay, well, I think I’m gonna go to bed. Good luck brainstorming.” The food sits warm and heavy in your stomach. It’s been a long time since you’ve felt this full. It’s nice.

He gives a small nod acknowledging what you said, then goes back to grumbling down at the control panel, pushing buttons and examining scanners. You lean down to kiss the kid goodnight from where he’s babbling in the co-pilot’s seat, then climb down the ladder and change into your night clothes, setting the lights in the hull to night-mode as the Crest rumbles into the sky. Climbing into bed, you wrap your biggest blanket around yourself, the chill of hyperspace already settling in the air.

**

You have a dream. A bad one. One you’ve never had before and don’t know if you’d survive again if you did. It starts with you already crying. It’s one of those full-body, hiccuping sobs that usually rouses you from your sleep before things gets too bad.

Mando is gone, so far gone not even the comlink your finger is hovering over would be an option. You know this because the dream starts with him calling you. When you answer, there is only the sound of a hard, driving rain.

You’re holding the child against your chest and he’s screaming into your ear but you know if you actually lift him away to look at him he’ll disappear into the rain, too, so you drop the communicator and turn and there’s blood all over the floor and you have to clean it, you do. You have to so maybe he’ll come back and so you’re here, mopping up the blood on the hull’s floor as the child wails the loudest you’ve ever heard him cry and you try to choke out reassurances through your own crying because.

Because the gore is on your hands and your elbows and on you and on the floor once its gone it’ll be okay it’s so dark but it’ll be okay and streaking across the front of you and your face where you’ve tried to wipe it away please go away because it looks just like when.

Looks just like when.

You wake up in the middle of screaming, gasping for breath, one hand pressed against the top of the table above you and the other curled into the mattress. It’s the first time that’s happened, waking up like that at least. The dreams are different each time and occur at different frequencies, but they always crescendo at the same point. Usually you just wake up, eyes slowly sliding open and fixing to whatever is directly in front of you as your vision slightly blurs. How banal it usually is, how banal it feels, adds to the cruelty. You’re mostly still able to go to sleep after, at least there was that.

Not this, though. This is that hand-scratching-at-your-own-throat kind of terror, the kind you’ve usually only seen in the holo-dramas. You haven’t had a nightmare like that for so long, so maybe the surprise of it is what made it so much worse—that it wasn’t just you. Maker, you can still hear the child’s squalling in your ears. That sound of raw, primal terror that—

You feel your stomach lurch. You scramble to the fresher, emptying the contents of your stomach into the toilet.

Half anxiety, half afraid to close your own eyes, the dull thrum of raw energy does little to calm itself once you manage to shove the door of the fresher close. You let the metal rim of the toilet cool your face as you sniff, scooting back to lean your back against the wall, pulling the sleeve of the sleepshirt you’re wearing up your palm to wipe your eyes.

A low voice says your name urgently. You look up, dazed for a moment, before the door is cracked open by four broad-knuckled fingers. Your hand flies out, catching the handle before Mando is able to pull it the rest of the way open. He barely has time to get his hand out of the way before you slam it shut again.

“I--sorry,” you croak. “Please um… please don’t come in here.”

“Are you okay?” His voice is rough with sleep. You cup your hands over your knees and lean your forehead down to rest against them. When you don’t answer, he speaks again. “Was it, was it about before? Before Am’ile?”

“I—I haven’t, for so—I haven’t… Before… It was…”

“I know. She told me, it’s alright, I wouldn’t have asked I just… I thought it was something you didn’t want to talk about but I--”

“I’m not a charity case,” it sounds snappier than you intended it to and has absolutely nothing to do with anything he’d just said. At this point you’re just talking to yourself, it seems like he knows that. “That’s not why Am’ile pawned me off on you. I’m okay, I didn’t need her supervision anymore. I’m, I’m okay. It’s taken a long time but I am now so I don’t know why--”

“No,” and he says your name forcefully, cutting you off before you can continue. He repeats himself, this time softly, before: “It’s alright.” Does his voice sound… warmer? Even through a layer of reinforced steel? “I want you to feel safe, here. Comfortable. I don’t care, it’s okay. I just thought you were hurt.” He clears his throat. “I have them too, the dreams. So you, you don’t have to worry about hiding it. Them.” You don’t know what to say, so you say nothing at all. Closing your eyes, you lean the side of your face into the door separating the two of you. It’s so silent on the other side you think he’s left, so when he speaks again it’s all the more surprising. “And she didn’t pawn you off. I need you. Here.”

Something in your chest does a complete backflip. Your stomach is fluttering so ferociously you have to clear your throat before continuing. “Okay. Yeah, um. Thank you,” you wince. “I’m gonna freshen up and then get the little one out of your hair—er, beskar.” Idiot idiot idiot.

“It’s alright, you didn’t wake him. If you want I can… I can sit with you, until you fall asleep.”

“Okay.” You say it softly. “That would be really nice, actually. Thank you.”

You quickly brush your teeth, then open the door the door slowly. Stepping into the hull and closing it behind you, you pad back to your mattress. He follows a few feet behind you quietly—it’s moments like these you’re grateful for his reserved nature. You don’t have the energy to try and brush things off by filling the silence with mindless chatter.

Kneeling beside your mattress, you wordlessly offering him an armful of your pillows. In the low light of the Crest’s night mode, the beskar helmet looks nearly featureless, save for the gleam of light that arcs up its surface as he looks down at what you’ve offered him.

“Could you—” your voice breaks. Heat rises to your face as you clear your throat again. “Is it okay if the kid um… slept with me? It was… some of it was about—”

“Yeah, of course,” Mando takes one of the pillows from the top of what you’ve offered him, tossing it at the ground of the opposing wall and then slipping out of sight as he goes into his bunk. He returns with a the child, standing above you as you crawl into bed, wrapping you blanket around yourself, setting up the pillows as you normally do for the naps you take together, preventing any accidental rolling-over. Mando crouches to place the kid beside you, then stands and settles where he’d dropped the pillow previously. You take a moment to look down at the child, running a thumb over the edge of his ear, before kissing his soft forehead where you normally do. He wrinkles his nose in his sleep, making a soft sound and twitching his ears before wiggling slightly to resettle. You rest your head back on your pillow. The specifics of the dream are already starting to drift away. It’s a small mercy, but it’s enough.

“Hey, Mando?” You lift your head, the low light reducing the man to a dark, featureless outline.

“Hm?”

“Would you mind if… um… would you mind if I just touched your hand? Just so uh… if I wake up I can know you’re there?” As the words spill out of your mouth, an unbearable heat rises to your face.

There’s the sound of him shifting, getting to his feet with a grunt. Then he’s right there, sitting with his back to the wall, just a few inches from the top of your head. Tentatively, you reach out your hand, resting your index and middle fingers against his palm. And it’s his palm, His palm, warm but rough with callouses, resting on the floor beside his extended leg just for you to be able to close your eyes, even for a little bit.

It takes a while but it works. Right as you drift back to sleep you think you feel his hand gently wrap around the fingers you’ve offered him. You really think you do.

**

a/n: thank you all for the engagement thus far !! it really means so much to me. 

that said i am .,..... beyond excited about the next chapter for two reasons of equal importance: fancy parties and Very Jealous Mando. my favorite things 😌 

[ginanosakka]

The Mind of a Monster

Masterlist

I’m Sorry | Next

“Daddy, why does everyone look like that?” Your young and bright eyes stared up at your father’s, his own having no light or warmth in them, not even as he looked at you.

The smile that crept onto his face scared you, but you smiled back nonetheless like the naive little girl you were, just wanting to return your father’s love. In truth, you had been scared the moment you entered his company office, the automatic shift in energy when he walked in the room from all his employees had you fiddling with your fingers and doing your best to avoid eye contact. It was confusing to you why he wanted you to come with him today to introduce you to his work, but he never greeted anyone or even acknowledged their existence.

You wished you had paid closer attention and broken from his leash sooner.

“My dear, you’ll learn soon enough that these are inferior beings, and how they feel mean nothing when it comes to success.”

Sitting in a conference room filled with heroes was one thing, but sitting in a conference room full of heroes being debriefed on your secret criminal business father was another. Seeing all of these familiar faces made your palms sweaty and an anxious shiver go down your spine. They were all the former class 1-A students who met your father —whether that was by coincidence of scheduling, or these were the ones who couldn’t believe the case at hand, you didn’t know. None of them were as close as Mina and Katsuki so this truthfully had nothing to do with the past, but everything to do with the present news that came out not too long ago.

They were helping to protect their old friend’s child, and his now speculated ‘wife’.

“. . . I can’t give you any more information than that, the old bastard has all of his dirty work under security, but there’s someone who can.” Katsuki said, and you looked up at him from your spot next to Ashido and Kirishima, vacating your thoughts to meet his eyes that had landed on you. “Y/N.” He called, and you stood up from your seat.

You glanced at them all again, taking note of their very clear interest while finding the words to help them understand what you knew. It wasn’t just the ones who you had just seen again for the first time in years, this was also information and a plan that you had not run through with Katsuki, Mina, or Eijirou who had discussed this meeting with you beforehand. Whether it was because all three of them looked so concerned with your safety that your plan would positively not be received well, or simply because you yourself weren’t prepared to put everything at stake wasn’t abundantly clear.

A warm and soft hand grabbed hold of yours from where you stood, and you glanced at Mina to see her smiling with encouragement. “Don’t worry, I’ll have your back, ‘kay?” She said, and you squeezed her hand.

“Okay then. First things first, I want you all to know that I haven’t had contact with him since the last year you have all seen me, not even money related. When I was in close contact with him, I was unaware of any illegal actions he’d done until I was kicked out. Are there any questions on that?” You began, doing your best to get the most obvious questions out of the way first.

The eight heroes in the room — Tokoyami, Sero, Kaminari, Todoroki, Uraraka, Ashido, Kirishima, and Bakugou — all glanced at each other for a moment, and two hands went up: Todoroki, Kaminari. You looked to Todoroki first, his dual colored eyes piercing into yours like he knew you. From what you remembered from all that hero news Ryu loved, he had his own personal family issues that ended up public information. Honestly, you didn’t know if he was looking at you like that because he related to you, or was greatly suspicious of you. Either way, you nodded at him to voice his questions first.

“Did your father use you to fulfill his own goals?”

“Todoroki, let’s stick to questions that have something to do with the crimes and just her father.” Kirishima sweatdropped, and you could see Katsuki’s expression from the corner of your eye that looked like he wanted to send an AP shot right through his left side.

‘Never let him ask me anything, good to know.’

“Kami- Chargebolt, you had a question.” You redirected the attention to Denki who looked as done with Todoroki as the rest of the group, but once you called on him he refocused on you.

“If you knew he was doing illegal stuff at some point, why didn’t you say anything to the police before?” He asked.

The air became thick in the room, and all of them looked at you with their full attention once again, and that’s how you needed it to answer that. What they were about to take on may not be physically exhausting as a villain, but the mental toll this could take would be something they’d never forget. Their images will forever be changed in the media, and they’ll never look at those who run this world the same when you expose to them the man that they’d only met as a hopeful teenager. This was a man who would stop at nothing to stay on top, even going as far as to threaten his own blood’s life to ensure silence.

“When I got kicked out of my home, pregnant and a disgrace to him, he realized that I may not have known much about how the underground business he did, but I could easily stain his image by telling my story. About a month after I was kicked out, when I was two months pregnant, a man showed up at the hotel I was staying at and attempted to kill my baby. I survived with bruises and a stab wound that entered just between my rib cage instead of directly into my stomach. That man was hired by my father to kill me. . my mother had come to the hospital to break that news to me. She is the reason another attempt hadn’t been made on my life, but it was at the cost of me disappearing and never returning again.” You laid out the full story, sparing gruesome details but not leaving any room for confusion or continued suspicion.

Denki looked horrified as he tried to apologize, “I didn’t think he did something like that to you. I’m-“

You cut him off with a raised hand, “that’s why you’re here now. No one knows how evil Eito L/N is, because he’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing to the public. This isn’t your routine evidence and arrest case, and if you think there’s a low that my dear old father won’t reach to make me disappear, you’re going to end up dead, or so far in the gutter of negative media attention that your career will be over in days. You’re going to find out information that will destroy the relationship between you and the men that have made you heroes. As we speak, he is most likely ten steps ahead of us all and expecting us to move as quietly as we can for the sake of your licenses and my business.” You explained, and Uraraka stood up in distress.

“Then we should be looking for evidence! Doesn’t this mean you could be being followed right now? Why are we sitting here discussing it?” She asked, and you nodded in agreement at her words.

“You’re right, but there’s a quick end to this that only I can do at the risk of my own life. . I didn’t go over this with any of you, and I deeply apologize for the trouble I will soon be causing, but I can’t let all of you save my life while I lay down and cower with my son.”

You whipped out your phone and searched up the first news outlet that came to mind, and just as you expected, your video was being played as you spoke. You laid it out on the table after turning the sound up, watching the video you had recorded last night played to the public.

“I am Y/N L/N, the daughter of a very well known man, Eito L/N. Six years ago, he told the public that I went overseas in search of a different life, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. In actuality, six years ago, Eito kicked me out of his home after finding out I was pregnant and used that story to cover up my disappearance. I have since been living on my own with no help or contact from my father, and I urge all of you to look closer at those in power and wealth. You have no idea what they could be doing behind closed doors. Thank you.” You turned your phone off and slipped in back in your pocket as they all took in what you had done, and it was of course Katsuki who spoke up first.

“What the hell did you do?!” He growled, and you met his concerned and angry eyes with frightening intent.

“I’m making this a media circus, Dyanmight,” you smiled.

“You’re drawing him out, but why? Won’t that make this worst?” Tokoyami asked, but you weren’t the one to answer.

“He doesn’t know what she’s going to do. . she’s making it impossible to keep his tracks covered.” Todoroki looked at you, and you both nodded at each other in complete understanding. “Y/N just made this a lot easier for us.”

A/N: I was gonna keep dad’s name neutral, but it just didn’t make sense that they all would constantly refer to him as her father. So evil dad’s name is Eito! This is pretty much a small filler before we reach our real drama and end. I can’t promise a soon update and the hiatus is still very much in motion, but I wanted to get this out to you. I hope you enjoy!

Taglist (Closed) <3 : @fandomgirllover @cloudsgathering @that-bipolar-renegade-romantic @jazzylove @that-chick212 @bonbonthedragon @misssugarless @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @bakugous-bakahoe @pinkykookie17 @animexholic @arielting @samkysnks @simpforeveryone @damnirina @deneuves @tsumuuumiyaaaa @vintage-teddyxo @regalmigraine @samvmgh @iamagalaxy @officialtrashbusiness @xwackk @videogameboiwhowins @marajillana @ellasdilemma @plutoneu @saucey-kneecapzz42020 @thestarsanctuary @dewdropwifu @star-light-imagines @kritiiiii @bakugosbottombitch @the2ndl @candybabey @simply-not-the-same @sam-i-am-1025 @mes-bisous @eternallyvenus @peppytine @chaelysian @definitely-yours @oikawarc @suneaterofthebig3 @m0na-l0ver @nkb0048 @losertsukki @notyourfavorlte @caramelsquares @hikaru-mikazuki

[winterscaptain]

buffer.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader

a/n: takes place after constellations and before through and through. this is just a fun little piece before i continue my descent into Ouchtown, USA with the ajf 100 arc. i am really excited to include more of these early-series ‘home scenes’ with the hotchners and reader!

an ajf fic that requires no context!

words: 2.6k warnings: language

summary: happy 3rd birthday, jack! it’s a family affair, in more ways than one. 

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | requests closed!

“So, how do you know the Hotchners?” A handsome man, probably just a little younger than Aaron (but significantly shorter), asks, filling his plate beside you.

“I work with Hotch - Aaron - Jack’s Dad - at the DoJ.” You keep your tone neutral, polite. There’s something off about him - he’s a little overeager, a little too comfortable in the Hotchner house. 

“Ah,” he says. “A profiler.” 

With a little laugh in your voice, you ask, “Are you familiar with the field?”

“Haley’s told me a little bit, but I wouldn’t call myself an expert, no.”

“I see. Do you know Haley well?”

“Yeah, my son is in Jack’s preschool class.” There’s still something he’s not telling you, but nevertheless, he sticks his hand out and you shuffle your plate to take it. “I’m Joseph. It’s nice to meet you.” 

Joseph. Not Joe. 

What happens if you call him Joe? 

Pin that for later. 

You introduce yourself and continue to make small talk for another few minutes, noting that he’s filled a second plate - you can only assume it’s for someone else. 

Let’s keep an eye on this one...

+++

“I’m so happy you all could make it.” 

You jolt back into your body after zoning out for a couple of minutes, finding yourself alone at one of the patio tables with Haley. A smile breaks across your face. “Me too.”

She snacks on a chip, delicately covering her mouth as she asks, “Is there anything exciting you’re all working on right now?”

Since when is Haley interested in cases? 

“Kind of. I head out to Colorado with Emily and Spencer tomorrow to go visit a religious cult on a compound in the mountains.” She laughs, and you follow suit. “So, it’s the little things, I guess.” 

“Very few things have changed, then?”

You nod, a knowing smile on your face. “Exactly.” 

There’s quiet for a moment and your eyes wander across the yard out of habit, taking stock of all the preschoolers running around, their parents at the perimeter. 

“Oh!” She sits forward, pulling her knee to her chest and propping her heel on the edge of her chair. 

You look back at her expectantly. 

“Did you like the book? Catch-22 is one of Aaron’s favorites. I think I wrote that in the note, but…” She gestures vaguely. “I thought it would be helpful.” 

Smacking your hand to your forehead, you laugh a little. “Oh, it was! I completely forgot to send a thank-you note, Haley, I’m sorry.” You lean forward conspiratorially. “I loved it. It was such a thoughtful birthday present. Thank you” 

Her nose scrunches up as she smiles. It’s adorable. “Good. I’m so glad.” 

+++

“Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” Dave sidles up to you, eating a piece of cake. 

You follow his gaze, where Haley, Joseph, and their boys are kicking a soccer ball around. Haley’s full of laughter and unnecessary touches, but that’s not a new observation. 

You’ve had Joseph-not-Joe’s number since he first spoke with you. He seemed far too interested in getting to know the people close to Haley to be without ulterior motive. 

“I’m seeing something. I’m not sure what it is, yet.” You take a sip of your drink, letting your eyes wander. 

“Not for nothing,” Dave says, “and, of course, this stays between us -” 

“Of course.” 

“- But Aaron thought Haley was seeing someone before they got divorced, in the spring before you joined the team.” 

You hum. “Interesting. Do you think this is the guy?”

This is definitely the guy. 

“Well, there’s more to their relationship than ‘our kids go to preschool together,’ don’t you think?”

“Yeah, I do.” Your eyes wander to Aaron, who’s chatting with a couple of the parents, Emily at his side. He’s distracted, also focused on Haley and Joseph with the boys on the other side of the yard. “Give me a second, would you, Dave?” You absently hand him your drink as you cross over to the small cluster. 

“Hey, Hotch,” you put a hand on his shoulder with an apologetic smile to the mom you just interrupted. “I think we have a little bit of a crisis in the kitchen. Can I steal you for a minute?”

With a grateful look only you and Emily pick up on, he says, “Sure.” With a rueful smile and wave to the other parents, he leaves Emily to her own devices. Much to her (and your) relief, JJ and Will are on their way, ready to save her from the inane conversation. 

“What’s up?” Aaron asks, his brow just a little furrowed. 

Triple checking that the house is empty, you lead him into the kitchen and lean against the counter, crossing your arms. “What’s going on with you?” 

His eyes flicker around the room before settling back on you and his jaw is tight. Somehow, he’s still trying to avoid you when you’ve made it impossible. “What do you mean?” 

You level him with a Really? look. “Tell me.” 

“Fine.” He leans back and mirrors you, crossing his arms. With only a little bit of reluctance, he shares, “This is the first big event...thing since the divorce and I -” He huffs. “I don’t know how to be a divorced parent when I’m...in front of people? I don’t know.” 

You cross the kitchen and lean against the counter beside him, the heels of your hands resting on the marble. “You’re not alone. We’re here with you and nobody expects you to be perfect.” You laugh lightly. “There are at least seven divorced couples out in your yard right now. Weirdly, it’s normal.” 

He shrugs. “I guess.” His eyes wander to the window, where Haley and Joseph are still visible with some of the other parents, seated around one of the patio tables. Joseph’s arm rests casually on the back of Haley’s chair. 

That’s it. 

“What’s going on with those two?” You pointedly match his focus and Aaron sighs. 

“Did I ever tell you I thought Haley was seeing someone before we were divorced?” 

You shake your head, only a little thrilled he’s choosing to share this with you so soon after Dave read you into the secret. 

“I think that’s the guy.” 

“I was wondering about him, myself. He seemed a little…eager,” you say with a laugh. 

Aaron rolls his eyes. “He thinks he’s subtle, but I’d also imagine it’s rough to be the mistress when the ex is an FBI profiler.” 

You snort. “True.” 

Aaron’s hand covers yours and you look down, the contact shooting a spark through your arm and down your spine. 

Isn’t that the biggest cliche on the planet? 

“Thank you,” he says. “Thank you for being here.”

You look up again, meeting his eyes. “You’re welcome.” With a smile, you add, “I’ll always be here to save you from suburban moms and your ex-wife’s boyfriends.” 

The smile you get in return warms you from your scalp to your toes. 

+++

A couple of hours have passed, and Aaron settles into his role as the birthday boy’s dad. He’s been particularly demonstrative with Jack, but it’s all genuine. He chased him around the yard, threw him over his shoulder, covered him in kisses, and just generally lavished him in all the love of which he’s bereft while away on cases. 

It’s simultaneously weird and very normal to see him with that face-splitting grin. It looks at home there, and you wish you had the pleasure of seeing it more often. 

Watching father and son together is something special. The resemblance is often uncanny, even more so now as Aaron has Jack propped on his hip, chatting away, almost nose-to-nose. You’re only aware of the soft smile on your face when Jessica, Haley’s sister, plops down beside you. 

“Those two are something else, aren’t they?” She says with a little smile. 

You nod. “Two peas in a pod, for sure.” 

You’re both quiet for a moment, watching Haley jog up to the two of them, her cheeks flushed in the autumn chill. She lays a hand on Aaron’s arm as she speaks, her other hand rising to Jack’s face to rub some frosting off his cheek. 

“How’s it been on his end? Being apart?” 

You look over at Jess. “It’s been alright. He stays even later in the office, if you can believe it -”

“Is that even possible?”

“You’d be surprised,” you laugh. “I’ve been thinking about getting him a shock collar or something so I can train him to be home by eleven.” 

She snorts. “That would be a sight, wouldn’t it?”

The two of you share a raucous bout of laughter, drawing the attention of both Aaron and Haley. Their confused looks only make you laugh harder, and pretty soon you and Jess are clutching each other for dear life. 

You don’t know her well, but you imagine you’ll jump that hurdle. You’re already halfway there. 

In fact, the original thought isn’t even that funny anymore - you’re just laughing for the sake of it. It feels good.

+++

You find yourself next to Haley as the cleanup proceedings begin. She’s got a little smile on her face, and you take a moment to admire just how lovely she is. 

Haley, you think, is a bit like the sun. She’s bright, but will burn the shit out of you if you’re not careful. 

She glances up at you, blue eyes warm in the waning October sunshine. “Thank you.”

You hold up handfuls of wrapping paper and shrug. “No problem. Happy to help.”

“No,” she laughs. “I mean thank you for looking out for Aaron.” She lowers her voice and leans in toward you. “I know he’s not always cooperative.” 

You suppress a rueful smile. “Haley, I don’t -”

She lays a hand on your arm. “I know. Just…” Her eyes wander across the yard, where Aaron’s passing (a very pregnant) JJ a glass of water. “Thank you.” 

“I wish I could say it was my pleasure but...” you pull a yikes face and it makes her laugh again. 

+++

You end up spending much of your time together as she thanks guests and people start to go home. There’s a kind of camaraderie that develops between you and it feels like you’ve known each other for years. 

Her temperament tells you a lot about Aaron. They way they must have functioned together through the years. They’re so different, complementary, but you can see how things could get heated fast between them (good or bad).

She’s surprisingly affectionate by nature, her fingers glancing over your shoulder to direct you to tasks you’ve offered to help with, pressing a kiss to her sister’s temple as she passed her on the porch, holding onto Aaron’s forearm when she’s talking to him, and most notably, embracing Joseph by his car as he leaves, lingering only a little longer than she should. 

Nevertheless, you’re almost impressed by their restraint. You haven’t caught them on anything major, and it’s been close to eight hours since he arrived. You’re sure you haven’t seen the last of Joseph-not-Joe. 

Haley wears her emotions on her face. She can’t hide a thing. It’s refreshing. 

+++

You lean on the porch railing, enjoying the crispness of the early autumn evening. Dave stands beside you for a while in silence. When he’s had his fill of your tacit company, he kisses you on the cheek and bugs out with Spencer. 

Will takes JJ home a few minutes later. There’s a little smile on your face as you watch her take his arm down the front path, leaning on him. 

They’ll do well together. 

Soon, everyone else is gone, and you’re only a little concerned you’ve overstayed your welcome. Jess tells you you’re being ridiculous as you rearrange the fridge for leftovers. 

“When has my sister ever kicked anyone out of her house while they’re still of use?”

You take a moment, fighting a smile. “Thanks, Jess.” 

“As far as I’m concerned, the BAU is part of my extended family.” She bumps your shoulder. “And family is always welcome in a Brooks house.” 

+++

Even when it’s time for you to go home, it isn’t. 

Jack almost breaks down in tears when you kneel to hug him goodbye, so you’re trapped. It’s not like you can leave him, right? Not when he holds you hostage with those big brown eyes. 

Identical to Aaron’s. 

Funny enough, you can’t deny him anything either. 

Oh, that’s enough. 

Haley catches you by the forearm as Jack runs back to his dad, who gently launches him onto the couch. “You can sneak out, if you want to go home. I’ll distract Jack.” 

You raise your eyebrows. “And leave you without your buffer? Not a chance.” 

You’re rewarded with another laugh and she lets you go, shaking her head. She can’t say you’re wrong. As much as she and Aaron can fitfully coexist on their own, it’s much more comfortable with you around. 

Haley might love him, but she doesn’t always like him. You, for some reason, make it easier to like him.

She resolves to think a little more about that, for future reference. 

About twenty minutes later, you assume your role as the buffer and land between Haley and Aaron on the couch, with Jessica on her other side. Jack’s stretched out across all of you, his head in his mom’s lap and his little arm hanging off the edge. You managed to find a movie he actually wanted to watch, but you suspect he’ll be long asleep by the time it’s over.  

Aaron’s phone buzzes and he maneuvers it out of his pocket. Being nosy, you peer over him without disturbing Jack. 

Strauss.  

He answers it, quietly. “Hotchner.”

You can feel Haley’s disappointment and residual resentment without even looking at her. 

He continues to speak in hushed tones, drawing little patterns on the back of Jack’s calves as he does so. “Ma’am, I’ll take care of that when I’m back in the office...No ma’am, I’m with my family at the moment...Yes...Thank you, ma’am...You too.” Aaron takes a second and silences his phone, stretching a little to set it on the end table. 

You’re sure the rest of you are wearing matching expressions of shock. 

“It can wait.” He shrugs like it’s nothing and turns his attention back to the screen.

Turning to look at Haley, you find her staring at Aaron with a kind of soft surprise and pride in her eyes. You feel a little like an intruder, so you drop your eyes to the back of Jack’s t-shirt under your fingertips. 

In the rapidly-approaching darkness, Haley reaches for your hand and you take it, your hands landing on Jack’s little shoulder blade. You drop your head onto Aaron’s shoulder, leaning into the casual familiarity of the moment.

It’s nice to feel like family. 

“Thank you,” he says. It’s hardly a breath, let alone speech. 

You nod once. Anytime. 

If either one of them asked, you’d keep them from tearing their heads off forever. It’s not a far reach from your everyday responsibilities, you already do it for Aaron and Derek. Trading out one temper for another is almost easy. 

Aaron looks down the line when the credits start to roll, finding Jess and Haley with their eyes closed, leaning against each other. You’ve been out for a little while, now tucked under his arm where it’s stretched across the back of the couch. One of your hands still loosely holds Haley’s while the other rests on the middle of Jack’s back. His lips twitch up into a smile as he rests his head against the back of the couch. 

Maybe it will be alright.

+++

tagging: @arganfics @quillvine @stxrryspencer @agenthotchner @wandaswitxh @hurricanejjareau @ughitsbaby @rousethemouse @criminalsmarts @shrimpyblog @genevievedarcygranger @ssaic-jareau @good-heavens-chris-evans @davidrossi-ismydad @angelsbabey @gublergirls @writefasttalkevenfaster @venusbarnes @hotchsflower @ogmilkis @marvels-agents100 @hotchslatte @risenfox @mrs-dr-reid @captain-christopher-pike @whoreforhotch @pinkdiamond1016 @pan-pride-12 @sunshine-em @word-scribbless @jdougl-love @sageellsworth05 @nohalohoseok @giveusbackourbucky @writerxinthedark @bauslut @dreila03 @forgottenword @aaronhotchnerr @ssa-morgan @buckybau @sana-li @tegggeeee @abschaffer2 @ssacandice-ray @ellyhotchner @lotties-journey-abroad @mrs-joel-pimentel-23-25 @laneygthememequeen @violentvulgarvolatile  @mooneylupinblack @ssareidbby @violet-amxthyst @bwbatta @roses-and-grasses @lcvischmitt @capricorngf @missdowntonabbey @averyhotchner @mandylove1000 @garcia-reid-lovechild  @cevanswhre @qvid-pro-qvo @jeor @spencers-hoodrat @infinity1321 @zizzlekwum @popped-weasels @evee87 @nuvoleincielo @this-broken-band-girl @reidtomestyles @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @winqhster

[let-me-write-shit]

can you write a little something about Harry and reader finding out the gender of their baby after a long time of trying?

Ok, first of all, I’m SOOO sorry for taking so long to write this while I finished up my story. When I got this request, I got super emotional because this happened with me and my husband. So the story I wrote is our actual story. I hope you like it.

Word Count: 2,950

Requests are OPEN! If you have a request for a blurb, oneshot, imagine, whatever, Send me a message HERE!!!

And don’t forget to let me know what you think! Enjoy.

CLICK HERE TO READ OTHER COMPLETED STORIES

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

Little Miracle

It had been two years. Two long and frustrating years. When Harry and Y/N first started talking about trying to get pregnant, it was exciting. They had been married for about three years at that point and Harry had finally started to slow down in his career a bit to focus a little more attention on his wife with the prospect of starting a family. But things hadn’t gone to plan. They didn’t expect to get pregnant on the first try. Maybe not even the second. But by month three, they started to get discouraged. Maybe their timing was off. Y/N’s period was irregular, after all, and their ideal of ‘letting it happen when it happens’ was starting to become easier said than done. So, Y/N started taking ovulation tests.

She took a text every single day for a week, and all of the tests came back negative. Not a big deal, there’s only three days of ovulation in a month. She continued to take them. The third week, nothing. Maybe her ovulation days were spread out further apart since her period was so irregular? By week five, Y/N began to worry, but she hadn’t lost hope, yet. She visited her OB/GYN who encouraged her to keep trying, try to stress less, and eat healthier. So she did. She started exercising, changing her diet, taking more vitamins, even starting couples yoga with Harry, doing everything within her power to live a better lifestyle. Nothing worked.

With every negative ovulation and pregnancy test they got, Y/N spirits dwindled. Harry began picking up more work, doing anything he could to distract himself from the ranges of emotions that were running through him. Of course, he wanted to have a baby with Y/N. She was the love of his life and to be able to bring a piece of both of them in this world would be the biggest blessing he could have imagined. But seeing the pain and heartache in Y/N’s eyes each day after another negative test felt like a stab in his chest.

He tried to do little things to take her mind off of it. Spontaneous dates, trips to the spa, exotic getaways, concerts, you name it. But when they got home at the end of the day, passing by the empty room they had always talked about one day making into a nursery, he saw the flicker of hope in her eyes die. It was even harder whenever tabloids speculated her pregnancy or friends and family asked when they would have a baby. They always played it off, simply saying ‘it’ll happen when it’s supposed to happen’, but the rage he felt whenever someone brought it up was something awful. It took everything in him not to lunge at the person joking about it. If only they knew, maybe they wouldn’t be so insensitive.

After a year and a half of trying, they decided to bite the bullet and meet with a fertility specialist to see what was going on. Harry had just finished a tour and they thought now was the perfect time to get serious again. Dozens of tests were done between bloodwork, urine screenings, semen samples, and finally an ultrasound. That’s when they were given the news. Y/N had a pretty severe case of PCOS. It was the cause of her irregular periods and the reason why it had been so difficult for her to conceive naturally.

The doctor had sat them down in a room to discuss what this meant. According to him, the chances of Y/N ever conceiving naturally, without medical intervention, were slim to none. And even though there were several medical and procedural routes they could go, the chances of a baby sticking, though not impossible, did not look to be in their favor. The look on Y/N’s face was enough to kill.

After the doctor laid out all of their options, he gave them some space to digest, and as soon as he left the room, Y/N collapsed into Harry’s arms. They had given up hope. What was the point in trying? Why go through all the pain and discomfort of medications and procedures for the high probability that it’d end in miscarriage? When they got home, they began discussing their options. There was always surrogacy and adoption. But the more they talked about it, the more frustrated Y/N got. She tossed all of her unused ovulation and pregnancy tests in a drawer under her bathroom sink and slammed it shut.

“Maybe we can get a second opinion about your PCOS,” Harry suggested, following her into their bedroom.

Y/N shook her head, shrugging her shoulders, and curling up on her bed, tired from all of the crying, “Maybe the universe is telling us we shouldn’t be parents. Maybe it’s just not time yet.”

Harry pouted, curling up with her, “Love, we’re going to have a baby. It may not have your eyes or my dimples, but we’ll have a family someday.”

Months had passed and Y/N continued to take her ovulation tests out of the habit of taking them every day for nearly two years, and every day they would still come up negative. It was Father’s Day, and after a long day celebrating with Y/N’s dad, the couple came home and got ready for bed. Y/N opened a drawer to her bathroom sink to get some floss and to take her daily ovulation test, setting it on the vanity counter before finishing her business, and as she washed her hands, she noticed the faintest extra line imaginable.

Laughing, she threw it in the trash, almost certain that it was either a false positive or a trick of the light. Still, with over four hundred negative ovulation tests under her belt, it was a bit strange. She didn’t mention anything to Harry, afraid he would think she was crazy. The number of times she had convinced herself she was pregnant because of a ‘feeling’ was starting to become ridiculous. But, what’s the harm in trying? Harry looked especially hot today with his hair extra floppy and the perfect amount of stubble on his chin. All it took was her dropping her dressing gown to get him in the mood.

But when the next day rolled around and her ovulation test was negative, she figured the previous night was just a dud. Typical. She had completely forgotten about it, her mind distracted by the fact that Harry had to leave for a few weeks to work on a new album, meeting with producers and mixers, songwriters, and masters in LA. Y/N stayed in their London home, spending time with his family and meeting up with friends.

The day Harry was supposed to return, she decided to get all dolled up for him. It had been a while since she had gone all out, and she wanted to surprise him. First thing’s first, she needed a shower. She stripped out of her clothes, tossing them in the hamper, and decided to use the bathroom real quick before she got in. The sink drawer was slightly ajar and she saw the outline of the unused pregnancy tests she never got the chance to take. She frowned, pulling it out of the drawer, all of the lost hopes and dreams fluttering away with this one pregnancy test. She should get rid of them. She sat on the toilet in thought for a moment before shrugging her shoulders. What’s one more test, for old time sake?

She held the test under her stream for a few seconds and shook it dry before tossing it to the ground, barely out of sight, knowing that the test would be negative like it always was. Besides, she had no symptoms of being pregnant. She felt fine. So, she finished her business and washed her hands. But just as she was about to get in the shower, she happened to look down and saw it. It was faint. Very faint. But it was there. Two blue lines.

Fully naked and one foot wet, she rushed over and grabbed it off the floor, pulling it to her face and holding it up to the light to make sure she wasn’t seeing things. But no matter how she turned it, she couldn’t unsee the two lines.

“Nope. It’s just a false positive,” she told herself before tossing it on the counter and getting in the shower.

But she could barely focus. Her mind kept wandering back to the test. Was it possible? She remembered the ovulation test she had taken on Father’s Day. Maybe she had ovulated. Maybe she was pregnant. No. Not possible. But….maybe?

It was a good thing she drank so much water that morning because when she got out of the shower, she had to pee again. This time, she made sure to get a cup to pee in, wanting to try multiple tests, just in case. She dipped three into the cup and set them on the counter, leaving to get dressed before returning. She took a deep breath, trying not to get her hopes up, before looking down. And her heart began to race. All three, barely visible, had two lines. Were they too faint? Did that mean she wasn’t pregnant?

So, to be sure, she took out the big guns. An electric pregnancy test. She needed to see the words. It wouldn’t be clear until she got a definitive answer. Pregnant or Not Pregnant. So she dipped it in and saw the little hourglass blink, and watched as the bar got closer and closer to completion. It took a moment to register, but when she saw it, an audible gasp escaped her as she clapped her hands over her mouth and stepped back.

Pregnant

“Oh my god!” she cried, tears rolling down her face in streams.

She picked it up, put it down, and picked it back up again to make sure she was reading it right. Pregnant.

Y/N had always imagined telling Harry in a cute, fun way. Putting a bun in the oven, or with a game of Pictionary. Maybe even a little onesie. But all of that went out the window. He was going to be home any minute and there was no way she could keep this to herself long enough to figure out how to tell them. It was something they had been waiting on for two years. She wouldn’t wait another second.

She gathered all of the tests she had taken, capped them so nothing could be exposed to the pee, and took them down to the dining room table, scattering them around and staring at them. Her leg shook, anxious for her husband’s arrival, and she bit her fingernails, still in shock that this was even happening. The beeping of the motion sensor went off, signaling that the front door had been opened and Harry’s voice rang through the house.

“Y/N?! I’m home! Where are you?!”

She tried to shout, but she couldn’t find her voice. The butterflies flapped around in her stomach like crazy and she felt like she could vomit from the nerves. It only took seconds for him to find her, though. He wore sweats and his hair looked almost greasy from his long flight home, a smile had stretched across his face at the sight of her. But it quickly turned into confusion when he neared.

“What’s this?” he asked, looking at the objects scattering the table as he got closer.

He picked one up to examine and upon seeing what it was, his eyes widened, gasping, “What? No way?” he put the test that he had been holding down and quickly grabbed another one, and another, and another, repeating, “Is that a line? Y/N, is that a line?” before finally grabbing hold of the electric test that read ‘Pregnant’. He gripped it tight, finally looking up at his wife, tears rimming his eyes, “You’re pregnant? We’re going to be parents?”

Y/N grinned, her eyes beginning to water, and nodded, “We’re going to be parents.”

Harry lost it, unable to control his emotions anymore. Two years of pent up sadness had blown out of him and he bawled, collapsing into Y/N’s arms and squeezing her tightly, blubbering, “I’m going to be a dad.”

They waited a while before telling anyone, terrified of their fertility doctor’s prediction that their baby would most likely not stick. But after three months of regular appointment and growth checkups, all of which looked great, they felt comfortable enough to tell their immediate family and very close friends, all of whom were beyond thrilled for the couple.

It was easy to hide her pregnancy for a while. She had no symptoms, she hardly showed, and it was at a time where Y/N and Harry hardly left their house anyway, so most people hadn’t suspected anything. They had managed to get halfway through the pregnancy without any leaks, and finally, at their twenty-week checkup, they would be finding out whether they were having a boy or girl.

They were especially nervous because, although they had been tossing names in the air for months now and had a boy’s name picked out almost right away, they hadn’t been able to agree on a girl name quite yet, and Y/N was almost certain they were having a girl, though Harry had been adamant that it was a boy.

“I don’t care, either way. I just want to know what kind of laugh they’ll have,” Harry said as the ultrasound technician moved the wand around his wife’s belly, taking measurements of all of the baby’s extremities and organs. “Like, will it have that cute high-pitched baby laugh? Or will it have one of those laughs that sounds like demonic possession, you know? I just want to be prepared for what I might hear in the middle of the night.”

Y/N laughed, rolling her eyes, “I hope they have a demonic laugh. Imagine how much more fun Halloween would be? And everyone would be too creeped out by their laughing to want to stay too long. Imagine all of the awkward or boring situations we could get out of because of it.”

Harry’s eyebrows raised, “Well, when you put it like that…”

The nurse giggled at their conversation and turned to face them, “Okay, are we ready to find out the gender?”

“Yes,” they grinned, squeezing each other’s hands tighter.

“Alright, let’s see if baby’s cooperating,” sang the technician, sliding the wand down further and pressing it harder into her skin. They saw their baby’s legs moving around wildly as she tried to get a better look in between their legs, digging the wand in harder. And that’s when they saw it. They shared a look with each other, mouths agape, as the nurse smiled, “It’s a boy.”

Y/N laughed, turning to face her husband, expecting him to start gloating. But she saw the reflection of light hit the water that started to collect at his lash line and a single tear rolled down his cheek, his chin quivering and sniffling as he quickly wiped it away.

“We’re having a boy,” he choked, catching his breath and pressing his lips to her forehead, his hand squeezing hers even harder now. The nurse grinned at his display of emotion as Harry whispered into her ear, “Paxton Robin Styles.”

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

Taglist: @odetostep

[its-monster-mash]

Paul(The Lost Boys) X Michael’s Ex!Fem!Reader Imagine(Part 1)

Content Warnings: Vaguely Love-Triangley? (Reader and Michael are still good friends and broke up a while before Mike moved, but things are a little awkward because they were each other’s first serious relationship; so he’s more protective than he needs to be, and there might be a few hurt feelings, but I wouldn’t quite call it a love triangle), Brief Sexual Harassment

Part 2

This turned out SUPER long so I’m putting it under a readmore; also I think I’m going to make it a series because I want to go a lot further with this but I suspect I’m going to run out of space soon

• Michael Emerson had been your best friend since you were kids, growing up in Phoenix only a ten minute walk from eachother...if you knew the right shortcuts. You knew all of them, thought you knew everything when you were younger, and you got yourself and Mike into a fair amount of trouble because of it...but he had always been a good kid, and was able to temper your more destructive elements.

• It surprised exactly no one when the two of you eventually started dating, nor did it surprise them when you broke up a few years later. You had always been inseparable, and the love had always been there, but over time you just couldn’t help but feel stifled. You had spent your entire teen years with him, and so many people liked to joke that Mike tamed you...at the rate you were going it seemed like sundresses, picket fences, and a couple of kids weren’t far off in your future...and that scared you.

• Mike was heartbroken when you left him, and for the first few weeks he absolutely held it against you, but due to your shared friends and history your friendship survived. Unfortunately, his parents’ divorce separated your iconic duo once again.

• When Mike’s dad showed up on your doorstep a few days after the move, you tore him a new one for basically abandoning his sons. He set a box on your porch, Mike’s Tools...his Grandpa gave them to him when he was just a little kid and they were one of his most treasured possessions...they were forgotten in the chaos of the move...His dad thought you might visit him sometime...

• That’s what led to you hopping in your shitass El Camino and making the drive to Santa Carla. Lucy had given you their new address before they left...you knew she hoped that maybe you and Mike would get back together some day, but that just wasn’t in the cards. At the end of the day he was just too good, too normal, for you.

• Driving through Santa Carla, you can’t help but be drawn to the sheer...strangeness of it all. Looking at the people, you feel like you actually fit in here. You definitely plan on hanging around the town for a while.

• Mike isn’t home when you get to his Grandpa’s house, but his mom could not be happier to see you. It’s a bittersweet reunion for you; she had been more of a mother to you growing up than your own parents, but after breaking her son’s heart you just don’t feel like it‘s right for you to call her “Mom” like you used to. She has a million questions, and she even suggests you stay with them for a while...you politely decline.

• You didn’t tell her that sleeping in your beat-up old car was preferable to her hospitality, but it would just be too weird, with how recent your breakup was. You and Mike are still friends, but you think sleeping under the same roof might be weird for him

• You still want to see him though, so you decide to explore the town on foot for a while; maybe run into him. You’re wandering around when you hear a familiar voice coming from the open door of a comic book store.

• As soon as you walk in you see the unmistakably garish patterns of Sammy Emerson’s signature style and break into a wide smile. “Long time no see, huh kid?” Almost the second he sees you he practically knocks you over with a hug, backing away in embarrassment after a second of thought. You and Mike were already best friends by the time he was born, so Sam was almost as much your little brother as he is Mike’s.

• “Now What was that about Vampires?” You had overheard Sam and the Frog brothers when you walked into the store...Sam rolls his eyes, and the Frogs assail you with some insane story about how the town is overrun with vampires. Some imaginations these kids have.

• You bail out of there pretty quick in favor of wandering the boardwalk, seeing what Santa Carla had to offer...before you know it, the sun is starting to set

• Maybe going out alone in “The Murder Capital of The World” wasn’t your smartest decision, but you weren’t exactly known for your self preservation; that had always been Mike’s job...but he isn’t here now.

• You grimace as you notice a group of surfers take notice of you. You had wandered a bit aways from the main crowd, so you aren’t sure anyone would notice if things went south... “Hey Sweetie.”

• “Get Bent.” You sneer as they close in on you. “Awe well that’s not very polite,” the leader says, giving your ass a firm squeeze. “You should try being a little nicer.”

• You humor him with the sweetest smile you can muster as you stomp as hard as you can on his foot. He calls you a bitch and you flinch as his fist flies toward you.

• You open your eyes when the hit never comes, and are shocked to see that someone had caught the guy’s fist. You look up at him and your cheeks flush; when was the last time you saw a guy this handsome? “This guy bothering you, babe?” He asks as he squeezes the guy’s fist so tight you hear something pop. The guy falls to his knees and gasps in pain as his friends back away nervously. You smile wickedly. “Not anymore.”

• You watch the douchbags storm away with their wounded pride, shouting empty threats, only distracted when your Knight in Shining Tight-Pants tucks your hair affectionately behind your ear. “So what’s a pretty thing like you doing alone in a town like this?”

• You bite your lip, eyeing him appreciatively; now that you could get a good look at him you can tell he is definitely your type...and you hadn’t been with anyone since you broke things off with Michael. “Hoping to run into an old friend, but I haven’t seen him.”

• He grins, clearly appreciating your look. “That’s too bad, wanna make some new friends?” His eyes are fixed on you with a certain hunger, there’s a palpable danger to him; it excites you.

• You shift your stance flirtatiously, leaning into him ever so slightly. “That depends, are they all as cute as you?” He pokes his tongue into his cheek with an amused grin. “Almost.”

• He takes your mischievous smirk as agreement, and throws an arm around you, leading you back to where his friends are gathered by their bikes. “This the chick you ditched us for?” The curly-headed blond asks, humor in his tone.

• “Well I for one am grateful for the timely rescue.” You grin. “How grateful?” The blond on the bike asks, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively; making you laugh. Your hero slaps at him playfully, and the favor is returned.

• Seemingly the leader of the group, the spiky-headed blond interrupts the roughhousing. “Paul, Marko, knock it off and let’s go.”

• Paul nods, climbing onto his bike and grinning at you seductively. “You wanna go for a ride, babe?”

• His smile is infectious, and his innuendo isn’t lost on you. Maybe it’s not your safest decision, but you climb on the back of his bike; earning a loud “HELL YES.” From him, and hooting and hollering from Marko.

• “Make sure you hold on tight babe, I’m about to take you on a ride you’ll never forget.” “Shut up and drive,” you tease as you wrap your arms tightly around his midsection.

• They all laugh deviously as they rev their motors to life, and you’re glad you’re holding on tight, nearly falling off when they take off from 0 to 100. “HOLY SHIT!” “What’s the matter sweetheart, can’t handle a little speed?”

• “That all you got?!” You ask, acting tough. It was a mistake though. “That all you got, Paul?” Marko asks, mocking you. “I dunno girl, I think that’s all he’s got.” The big brunette says, first time he’s spoken since you met the boys. “Fuck off, Dwayne!” Paul shouts. The leader gives his engine a rev, egging Paul on. You scream, forced to cling tightly to his back as his bike tears into the night. Marko pulls up next to you, mimicking you with a falsetto squeal.

• “Damn babe, already screaming for me,” Paul teases over the roar of his motor. You’d sass him back if you weren’t too busy burying your face in his back for dear life. You’d ridden on the back of Mike’s bike plenty of times before, but he was never this reckless. You’re as terrified as you are thrilled.

• By the time you start to get used to the speed, the boys are slowing down, and much to your surprise, they pull right up to Michael, who is standing with a girl you haven’t met. His eyes snap to you instantly and go wide with confusion, he hadn’t even been aware you’d come to town. “(Y/N)?”

• “This that friend you were looking for?” Paul asks. “Yeah, (Y/N), care to introduce us to Star’s new friend?” “David please.” You watch the exchange a bit uncomfortably, shifting on the bike, arms still around Paul. “Yeah...Hey Mike, I uh, your old man dropped your tools off at my place so I took them up to your mom.” Your chest feels impossibly tight. You aren’t jealous to see him with a new girl, but you had hoped that maybe he’d be a little happier to see you here...and him, the earring and that jacket...it doesn’t feel like Mike at all. Paul can feel you shrink against him.

• “Hope I’m not stepping on any toes here,” Paul says, giving your thigh an unsubtle squeeze; deliberately antagonizing Michael. You smile a bit awkwardly as Mike scratches the back of his head in discomfort. Star looks between the two of you, avoiding eye contact with David. “No, Mike and I used to date but...” “But it’s over,” Mike says, a bit too shortly, trying to cover the awkwardness with an unconvincing smile.

• David shoots him a not-all together-friendly look. “Well, you seem to be moving on well enough,” he says, gesturing to Star, who shrinks beside him. “So’s (Y/N),” Paul interjects, looking over his shoulder to smile at you. You smile back at him, despite the awkwardness.

• “We should go, Star,” David urges. Star hesitates, but climbs on the back of his bike. Michael looks mortified, and you can’t help but feel awful for him. You’re shocked when David nods his head toward Mike’s bike. “Come with us, Michael.”

• You know the look on Mike’s face; his first instinct is to back out, avoid trouble...but then he looks at you, and he looks at Star; like he’s worried what will happen to you if he doesn’t come along. “Mike,” You don’t have to come, you start to say, feeling Paul tense in your arms. “I’m coming.”

• “This is gonna be so sick,” Marko says with a practically manic grin, before Dwayne swats him upside the head. “Don’t be an ass.”

• “Don’t forget, (Y/N), hold on tight,” Paul says, side eyeing Michael a little less than subtly. Mike rolls his eyes and you shrug apologetically. This is awkward, for sure, but one way or another you want to see this through. Paul and the boys seem cool as hell, and at the very least seem like a good way to get back on the horse after getting over a long relationship.

• You squeeze Paul a little tighter, heart pounding against his back. He revs his engine. “You ready, babe?”

[peeterparkr]

perennial;tom holland|ten.

chapter ten: aconite 

↳ flower meaning: [beautiful flower, poisonous] be cautious 

chapter summary: reasons to love, reasons not to and conversations that should be held. 

pairing: tom holland x y/n

warnings: it’s slightly angsty, slightly fluffy, the chapter begins at some point but will not be at that point, you’ll see

word count: 10.2K

SOCIAL MEDIA BEFORE THE CHAPTER:

masterlist & profiles  

nine: in which we get to know who Clark is

previous chapter next chapter   perennial masterlist.

perfidy  ( series masterlist)

wanna be tagged?

Hey guys! So as you might have noticed I took a break, school has been super demanding and honestly I wasn’t as eager to write this, kinda lost motivation to write perennial because it got too demanding and honestly, well you know it... But I’m back on track! I hope you like this chapter, it’s slightly different. 

Sometimes life is ironic, like winning the lottery after you die, or meeting the love of your life and finding out they’re married, or rain pouring down on your wedding day. 

Ironic by Alanis Morissette had been the first song that had played when they’d arrived to that bar, James remembered. 

Ironic. 

But the most ironic thing to y/n at least was Dancing Queen being sung in the background by two—no, three drunken girls, the bright notes buzzing, as they were too boozed up to hit any kind of decent note or any kind of lyric. It was ironic, as y/n was trying to hold back the tears as she rushed through the dancing crowd, a very unaware crowd, that was sweating and dancing and cheering and singing to the beaming to the cheerful song as she tried to swim her way through to finally get outside. 

Y/n knew Tom and her had never been fine. It just wasn’t a word in their relationship vocabulary. It was usually chaos. Like what it felt at that precise moment. She knew that Tom and her were chaos, that was true. But this. 

She couldn’t breathe. 

It was something she already knew would happen, eventually, though it’s stupid to walk into a relationship knowing you’redoomed.  It must have been a figment of her imagination. What she had seen. And on her birthday. Her very own birthday. 

But it wasn’t. 

She hadn’t imagined it. 

But what exactly had led to the chaos? Why had it come so easily? Everything had been particularly lovely. 

But of course, she knew that the fact she was crying outside a stupid bar trying to catch her breath, as she could still hear the faint music from the inside was no coincidence and was no surprise. Her sorrow had had a beginning and this chaos had been building up since James’ arrival, this was the ending she definitely didn’t want. 

Not that it had to do with her brother per se, but it came from that moment. Or maybe she was just trying to blame it on someone else rather than on Tom. 

She did blame it a bit on James. 

“Y/N, here you are,” James said as soon as he had walked out of the bar. “It’s—“

“I don’t want to hear it right now,” she stated before looking up to see her brother. “I know it, James—“

“Y/N—“James wanted to calm her down. “I” 

“I know, you told me so-”She snapped. “I fucking know that. Go and search for your fucking boyfriend that’s the only think you care about-” 

Clark had walked out as if he knew he’d be mentioned. Clark had arrived days before, apparently James announcing his engagement hadn’t exactly been to share it, but rather a warning to y/n. 

“Y/N, are you alright-” Clark had tried to ask. 

“No, get out of my face, I need to… Where the hell is Emma?” Y/N didn’t mean to snap at him but she couldn’t care any less. 

“It wasn't him,” Clark had tried to say. 

But it had been. However, y/n guessed she knew what he meant. 

“I don’t want to hear it,” she said. “Could’ve been any other day but no, everyone fucking decided to ruin my damn birthday, I didn’t even care about it! I just—Need to leave.” 

“But I’m sure Tom—“

And even though y/n knew it wasn’t... it felt...it had hit too close to a feeling that she was too familiar with. A deja-vu if one must say. A nightmare that she had once forgotten. 

Of course, nobody did understand why she had reacted that way.

Correction, they did. They would expect her to react that way because what she’d seen had been hell. But they didn’t understand what she truly felt. Maybe Sam, probably Sam. Who had seen her all those years back, way too long ago. Yet it seemed like just yesterday. But Sam had seen a very different y/n back then...Not stronger but a y/n that kept her feelings. Not like this, running away from it, wasn’t y/n supposed to be stronger now? 

He guessed that reliving it wasn’t easy, especially by what came afterwards. There was a slight difference this time, however, huge difference, actually. 

Tom did run after her, and he was probably still searching for her.  

“You don’t get it,” y/n said. “I—I need—It just felt—It felt just like that time.” 

James saw Tom rushing out of the bar, too. He pitied Tom for once this week. 

This wasn’t Tom’s fault… allegedly. Technically, it wasn’t. Now, if you look at the background of course he was to blame and he was an idiot, but this was something that James… could understand. He could, in a way, team up with Tom. 

James knew this would eventually happen. This chaos was ticking and it was only a matter of time till the chaos exploded. 

Relationships are complicated, but they’re bright most of the time. When two people are in love what else can you do about it?

James knew it, love was a bitch and love can make us do impossible things. Some people often confuse love with possession or love with passion or love for a caprice. James was particularly scared y/n would confuse love with a memory. 

Love shouldn’t hurt. That’s why he was probably too worried about y/n. And too angry at Tom for making a fool out of his sister. He, however, was impressed by that. But not really since James knew that from a very young age y/n was stupid enough when it came to Tom. But to make a fool out of y/n when she was the one to almost usually keep her sanity? 

James was impressed by how easily it was for Tom to make y/n go stupidly crazy when it came to him. Even now, he had been so impressed by his sister’s stupid infatuation. James did, however, like that Tom managed to get that smile he hadn’t seen in a while.  But she looked very stupid while at it. 

Tom was an idiot, too. Y/N also managed to make Tom the most stupid man on the planet. Not that he needed help with that, though. 

However, just as fast as Tom could make y/n smile he could be just as fast to break her heart. Most of the time he didn’t mean it, and James was sure Tom didn’t mean to this time. 

It’s the backstabbing disadvantage Tom had for being an idiot. 

James had been one of the few people who had seen the true nature of their relationship. He had indeed noticed Tom was so foolishly in love with y/n from an early beginning and he had been the one to point it out when she was just a kid. He wished he hadn’t because the moment y/n had heard him say those words, she had turned into a very stupid little girl. 

He had, however hinted it out to Tom, several occasions, that he did notice. 

“Y/N looked pretty, huh?” He had asked once after seeing the boy blush. 

“Breathtaking much, Tom? Please close that mouth.” 

“You and y/n looked awfully good together in those pictures from prom.” 

“Stop staring at my sister, eyes up here buddy.” 

James did notice. Tom had even once told James about it. In his own way. 

“I don’t actually hate your sister, not really.” 

But he didn’t quite understand why they acted like that. Why had they been so full of pride to admit they were in love with each other? How bad would it be for both of them to admit that their eyes followed each other? Why did it hurt them so badly to admit they made each other blush and smile? 

James had seen it after y/n came back from Rome, from both sides. Y/N would hum songs, Tom would be smiling more. 

They’d be talking. Not fighting. Even laughing together. 

And James had seen that this week, and he had been proven wrong. They truly were in love, even after all, even after everything. He could see them both, trying to fight for each other, the simplest of things he’d seen like Tom pushing y/n’s hair back if she was reading the script and it bothered her sight, or y/n gently squeezing Tom’s arm when she saw he was nervous about directing. Or both of them giving each other a look, with probably an inside joke of theirs or as if they were speaking with only their sight and then looking away and smiling to themselves. 

They were in love, and James knew it. James knew love. 

Love for him was Clark. 

His damned secret, kept for too long from y/n. He would’ve kept him a secret for longer, not because he was ashamed, and not because he didn’t like him. But because… Clark was something so personal for James and sharing him meant losing their intimacy. 

Clark and James were fine by themselves, they didn’t need anyone intruding in their relationship. 

Clark is the love we all dear and yearn for, the kind of love you only see in movies in the background, nor even the main characters, just the one perfect couple that’s always in the cafe, quietly smiling at each other. The kind of love that’s cozy, and that though it may be troubled sometimes, it’s truthful. The one love you never want to give up.  

He’d seen the way Tom looked at y/n, it reminded him of the way Clark looked at him. 

Maybe that’s why he wanted to side with Tom this time. 

James was getting married and though it might had come to a surprise to y/n, he knew that if he were to tell Tom, Tom wouldn’t be surprised at all. 

Tom had introduced Clark to James. Maybe he owed him for that.

“This guy, I swear, he’s the perfect catch for you, you’re gonna thank me one day, maybe on your wedding day,” Tom had said with mischief. 

“You know you don’t have to introduce me to every gay guy my age you meet,” James had sassed. “Besides, where did you meet him—?” 

“Golfing, his dad—“

“Oh, he golfs? Hard pass, I hate guys who like golf,” James had cleared. “Pretentious idiots.” 

“Hey!” Tom had frowned, “no, but he doesn’t golf, he hates it, but his dad dragged him along so that’s why I think he’s perfect for you! I swear I had two words with the guy and I—“

“No.” 

“I already gave him your number.” 

He had hated Tom at that point but… he guessed he was very thankful for that and that’s why maybe he was having such a hard time trying to convince himself that Tom wasn’t meant to be for y/n, because if Tom had been so right about Clark, how wrong could he be about y/n? 

James wanted y/n to have a Clark. And though, he had initially loved the idea of Tom and y/n, he now saw how it could end up so badly if they didn’t get rid of the baggage, which was unmistakably very heavy for both of them to ignore. It's baggage that’s been built from years now. 

Baggage that James and Clark didn’t have, because they always talked it out. Baggage that had shown up at that very particular night. 

But he had told y/n about it, he had warned her on his very first day in LA. 

“You’re getting married, oh my god,” y/n had said for what James was sure was the hundredth time. And she had been even more excited when she’d learned he’d be coming. 

“Yes, can we move on—“

“No!” She stopped him. “Why do you want to move on?” 

“Because—“he couldn’t quite explain it. Clark was his. He didn’t have to say anything else. 

“James!” 

“The same reason as to why you didn’t want to tell me about Tom,” James said.

“So you have baggage?” 

“Not—“James closed his eyes. “When you were—Back in Rome.” 

Y/N watched him. “Oh, because—it’s,” y/n understood about it. Love is between the people in love and that’s it. 

“Or—no, no, look, it’s—“James sighed. “I’m—it’s my thing you know?” 

“I’m your sister.”

“It’s not about not sharing it with you,” he rolled his eyes, “it’s about keeping him to myself, you know? To be lucky enough to know what we have.” 

“But—Clark? I thought you—I didn’t know—You said you hated the guy!” 

James glared at his sister waiting for her to see the irony. 

“No, my case is different,” she pointed out. “Tom and I-- well… You said you hated him!” 

“Well, I lied alright? I just never wanted to admit—I mean you knew I was dating him, why does this come as a surprise?” 

“Because you— hated him?”

“I didn't. I just didn’t want to admit that I fell in love with someone Tom introduced me to.” 

She looked away. “See? He’s not that bad. I mean he—he introduced you to him, he's not as bad.” 

“I know he isn’t,” James agreed. “But you have to talk to him.” 

“Everything was simpler when we pretended to hate each other,” y/n had said, melancholically staring at the ceiling as she had a flower pressed to her chest. “Maybe I—understand it, spreading it out is difficult.” 

James rolled his eyes. “Why is it so hard for you to tell him that you’re not okay?” 

“Because I feel like he knows already,” she admitted. “But we're trying to pretend we are  okay, so we… I don’t know, fake it till you make it.”

“Y/N—“

“I’m kidding, I mean—I guess we haven’t really had time to talk, we—We already kind of talked the Timmy thing which—“

James could tell y/n was the one who didn’t want to talk, they were very much alike in that matter. “The Timmy thing?” 

“He’s incredibly jealous of Tim,” she rolled her eyes tiredly, “which I don’t—It’s stupid.” 

“Is it, y/n, didn’t you tell me you slept with him?” 

“Yes but—I—Look,” she coughed. “It’s—Not something—I… I don’t know, when… I saw Cherry, I guess I wanted to get over him, but I can’t… I...it always comes back to him, you know?” 

James watched her, confused. 

“It’s funny, how we translated the bad parts into good ones, and I am so scared that I won’t get to say everything I feel for him for yet another chance…. And he is just...The love of my life, and it feels...there’s no other explanation for it, you know? He just is. And I look back and even though we were always fighting I just…” She took a deep breath. “And it did break me, the Cherry thing, him moving on with someone else just, I guess I wanted to move on, too, I thought… It’s gone, you know? Then he comes back and it’s another spark, you know? I just get out of my stupid senses... but I just did it because I couldn’t bear the thought that we are not meant to be.” 

James remained quiet. 

“And no matter what everyone says, I’d still choose him, you know? It’s so…” She cleared her throat. “So stupid, but then I just remember that feeling with us laughing and smiling and the...The first time he ever said he loved me I couldn’t quite… Believe it, you know? And it’s not… Gosh I hate that we are both so stupid but we’re doing our best, and he…I don’t know. Maybe it’s stupid but I think… I like to think we both missed waking up beside each other.” 

“That’s not love.” 

“No, I know, not that, but it is love, in our own very particular way,  but we’re so much more than that, yes the pieces are all scattered around, but I know I want to fight for it, and… I think our problem is we aimed too high or… I can’t help but be confused about the script you know? Because if it hadn’t been for it… I would’ve never had a chance yet it seemed like I… It’s a very delicate subject, but I don’t know, love is complicated, that’s it. But I love him more than anything.” 

James knew that y/n knew that Tom and her probably didn’t work out. She knew she’d broken Tom’s heart. It was no secret that y/n felt that  the worst thing that she’d ever done was breaking his heart. She knew that, and though everybody said it, she should forgive herself, she knew that it wasn’t easy. 

James didn’t know what to answer. 

“I don’t want to lose him.” 

“Yet you’re loving him as if you are going to,” James intruded. 

“You never know, and i think that’s the best way to love, love as if you’re gonna lose each other, then you know you’re really loving them…. Life has taught us both that we can screw up,” she gulped. “And I don’t know, I know...there’s a part of me that thinks it won’t last even if we try to, you know? But then again, I think about it and I know we’ll eventually end up together again. And I know I… look, I know I shouldn’t be saying this because I need no man but this time in L. A., I felt… numb, you know? And I guess I was sad because there was nothing holding us together, and… I would put on a smile every Friday, you know? Pretend I was okay, and I was healing of course, but I still had so much love left for him. Still do and I don’t want to let go of my chance. Might as well be happy, I’m tired of listening to me crying anyway.” 

Y/N did say ‘you know’ a lot, and James did know. Not sure how. 

“Why do you love him?” He asked. 

“He’s just too good to be true,” y/n smiled slightly, to herself. “I don’t—know, I just do, he’s the only one that gets through to me, and I feel alive when I’m with him,” she bit her lip. “I feel like I am a teenager all over again, but a good way, like when you’re excited about trying new stuff and excited about growing up, and being rebellious, and” she closed her eyes. “As cheesy as it sounds, I just lose all my defenses, but with him, I don’t feel lonely, he’s like… I don’t know, he’s just a song written by the hand of god.” 

James only listened. Y/N wasn’t… this, usually. Y/n never really said things like that. It was odd. 

“Y/N, that’s—“

“I know, I’m being ridiculous,” she blushed. “But I do love him. Because he’s—a moment, he is… I love him because I know him, and even with his flaws I completely love him.” 

“He’s an idiot, y/n, he slept with Cherry.” 

James didn’t understand it. Not really. Or not completely, for that matter. But he knew it. It was so complicated but he didn’t blame her, he guessed that y/n wasn’t a quitter, maybe that’s why she was trying so hard. And maybe she was right, and he knew it, Tom wasn’t that bad… But the fact he’d slept with Cherry was completely inappropriate. 

“I never thought I’d need him,” she admitted. “And I missed him, but I didn’t miss the heartbreak.” 

A broken heart can blind us. 

He’d seen Tom once back in London, and he wasn’t alright. Tom wasn’t doing fine with y/n being away, and with the heartache, his eyes always looked tired, and he was paler, and quiet. 

Tom was never quiet. 

And yet just as James had arrived in Los Angeles he’d seen a very different Tom, one with bright eyes and pink cheeks again. Like y/n, too. Her voice over the phone sounded off, always too distracted, or not there. Now she seemed… better, but still broken. 

James knew there was no use on trying to convince y/n and she had promised that she wouldn’t continue unless she talked to Tom about it. James knew she was so good at avoiding it. 

Y/N had taken James to set the next day and he’d seen them again, very different, very professional. He saw it in their eyes, though. Eyes looking to lock with the other and that shy smile. 

James had to look past that, as he saw his little sister’s dream come true, and he could tell that she didn’t quite believe it herself. And it was like seeing that little girl just from years ago with a hope and a dream and her always bossing the Holland boys around as she wrote a script for their home made movie. 

He saw them all like kids, Tom, Harry, Sam and y/n. It was like them being kids again. In a way. 

Now it was a real set, with real actors, a real movie, a real script and Harry was directing, he couldn’t believe it. Y/N and Tom were discussing over with some of the actors and Harry talked to the crew. 

James guessed Tom and y/n had a lot to say between the chemistry of the actors. He couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing, how they did work together, at least in the professional way, as Tom was directing them.

Did it hurt? James wondered as he watched Tom, directing Gregg, telling him how it should feel: 

“She’s the love of your life and that guy over there took the chance when you blew it up, of course you hate him, he’s the worst person in the world because… What makes him so bad is that… he is perfect for her,” James had heard Tom say. 

James had time to observe y/n and Tom. From afar and when y/n was not hiding. On that particular day when they were rehearsing that one scene when Valerie and Teddy were together, when they were supposed to be in love, dancing, all while William had to watch in the distance. 

Odd scene to see, considering his conversation with y/n. Did y/n have feelings for Tim still? Even if she assured she loved Tom? 

All of James' doubts were clearly erased as soon as he’d seen them.He’d seen them laughing with each other, shyly looking away, and y/n… giggled. 

Y/n giggled? 

It bothered him. Because it felt like Tom didn’t care, as if they’d simply erased it, in a way. But James was very aware that y/n was only bottling it all up, and y/n is dangerous, if she bottles too much she would end up losing control. 

James had seen them walk away together to have lunch, Sam and Harry had gone separate ways after but stayed far enough from them. Emma had joined James instead, they were close to y/n and Tom. 

Emma seemed sad. James couldn’t ask much about it, but from what he’d gathered from Harry, things weren’t going fine. Harry had only mentioned how it would take him a lot of time, that there was hope but that Emma just didn’t want to give in. But James could tell Emma did love Harry, and he admired Emma, her bravery and strength. She had to break off an engagement because her fiance wasn’t sure about it. Of course she wouldn’t forgive him that easily, Harry had been an idiot. 

James wished y/n was a bit more like Emma, y/n was too forgiving, and y/n was too stubborn and too blinded by the stupid boy to see it. 

James and Emma were eavesdropping, because both of them probably didn’t have a conversation themselves, and because both of them had gone close so they could hear, but hidden enough not to be seen. 

Nothing interesting about their conversation, the script, the set. Until...

“I was going to take you camping,” Tom mentioned out of the blue.

 Y/N had chuckled. “What?”

“Yeah,” he gulped. “For your—for your birthday.”

She grinned. “Camping?”

“Yeah,” Tom cleared his throat.

“That sounds so—cool,” y/n said, a bit confused by the idea. 

“But guess that idea is off the charts now.” 

She scowled. “Why?” 

“I am pretty sure your brother doesn’t want you alone with me,” Tom laughed nervously. 

James nodded in agreement to Tom’s statement as Emma tried to hide a snicker.

Y/N sighed, rolling her eyes, shaking her head and letting out a very forced laugh. “He’s an idiot.” 

“No, no, I—I understand it, you’re his little sister and he’s always been very protective.” 

“He hasn’t,” Y/N chuckled.

“Oh, he has, even I know he had a talk with Tim,” Tom hissed the name. 

“What?” 

“Didn’t you know? He told him that if he broke your heart he’d chop his dick off,” he assured her. 

James shrugged and looked at Emma. “And he didn’t,” James whispered. “Because Timmy is a good guy.” 

Emma scoffed. 

“I… oh my god, I didn’t know,” Y/N sounded embarrassed. 

Tom coughed. “I’m terrified of your brother.” 

“Good,” James mouthed to Emma. 

“Hm but what were you planning?” Y/N asked, getting back on the subject. “Camping, really?” 

“I dunno, rent a cabin, go for a hike, spend the day and night together,” Tom had changed his voice and gotten slightly closer to y/n. 

“Hm tell me more,” y/n had grinned. 

James motioned as if he was going to puke. 

“And I thought we could have time to ourselves you know? I know we work best when we are alone,” Tom had continued before getting his lips close to hers. 

“Hm we do,” y/n had closed the gap between them. 

“My sister’s an idiot,” James told Emma. “Why are you letting her do that?” 

Emma rolled her eyes, shaking her head. “I can’t stop her.” 

“And well I thought it’d be romantic,” Tom continued. 

“Hm why don’t we go?” 

Tom laughed. “And take your brother?” 

“We wouldn’t-” 

“We would have to, y/n,” Tom laughed. 

James nodded again. 

“But yeah that was my idea, you and me in the woods with no distractions,” Tom commented to y/n. 

“Hmm…” Y/n had leaned yet again to kiss him. 

James scrunched his nose, he really didn’t understand how Tom managed to get y/n so stupid. 

“You know, the cabin I had seen was really romantic,” Tom explained. 

“Was it now?” y/n blushed. 

“Yes, hm... it had a fireplace, and it was so cozy,” he continued. “And I know it’s not 80’s type of aesthetic you like—“

“No, no, shut up! I would’ve loved it, it sounds so romantic,” y/n had chanted. 

James was confused. “It doesn’t, ew,” he whispered to Emma. 

“It was,” Tom agreed with y/n. 

“And what were we going to do?” Y/n asked. 

James closed his eyes and shook his head. 

“Hm, there was a nice place to go hiking, uh, fishing, maybe? and you know relax, talk, get...cozy,” Tom continued. 

“Oh,so he was right?” Y/n asked. 

“Who was?” Tom frowned, confused. 

“James,” Y/n said. 

James raised his brows at the mention of his name.

“About what?” Asked Tom. 

Y/n giggled. “You were planning on giving me your—” 

Thankfully, Tom hadn’t let her finish the sentence. “You’re taking away all the romance out of it when you say it like that!” 

James wanted to die. 

Y/N laughed, loudly. “But were you?” 

Tom was embarrassed. “I—I mean it may have been on the schedule yes hopefully—I mean don’t say it like that, oh my god, y/n—But—“

“Was it on the schedule then?” Y/n asked. “How did you write it? Sex at 8?“

“No! No, I—it was—Not planned—I mean I wasn’t going to assign like a time but I mean it would I—kinda thought I—mean I knew—I assumed—“

“Oh, so you assumed it?” Y/N laughed. “So you just assumed I was going to ride you?”

James seriously thought he was going to die. 

“No, I didn’t!” Tom was red. “Y/n! I—I no!” 

“So you didn’t want to then?”

“Yes! But—I thought it could be an open possibility?” Tom was nervous. “I—“

Now it was y/n’s turn to not let him finish as she had already kissed him again. Emma was so entertained by the conversation and James’ reaction that she couldn’t hide a lighter for not longer. James lost it by then, so he quickly stood up and walked to them. 

Emma followed, curiously. 

The couple was still kissing. 

James cleared his throat loud enough for both of them to hear him and quickly separate. 

Y/N frowned. “James for god’s sake!” 

James walked over to them, “We are having lunch and I don’t see you eating, so Emma and I should join you.” 

“Sorry y/n,” Emma whispered to her friend. 

Tom and y/n were red, so, so red, and Tom was shaking. James only glared once at Tom before Tom moved away from y/n, just as James sat between them. 

“Your food is intact,” James pointed out. 

Tom moved away. “I—we were.” 

“No, Tom, eating my sister’s face is not lunch,” James cockily said. 

“James what the fuck,” y/n snapped at her brother. 

Tom laughed nervously. “James, c'mon man.” 

Emma felt awkward. “Why don’t we—eat?” 

They stayed quiet for a bit. 

“So, what are you guys?” James asked. 

Tom almost choked on his food. “What?” 

“James!” Y/N complained. 

Emma just smirked. 

“yeah, what are you? Have you guys talked about it? All your emotional baggage?” James pushed. 

Tom coughed. “We have been.. discussing it.” 

Y/N turned to Tom. “don’t answer” 

James smirked. “No, no no no, y/n, I wanna know.” 

Tom nodded. “What do you want to know?” 

“What is going on,” James reminded him. 

“I love your sister,” Tom answered. 

Emma watched between all of them. 

“Doesn’t answer my question,” James raised his eyebrow, as if challenging Tom. 

“James,” Y/N hissed. 

“I—it’s it’s true I am deeply in love with her and have been for a while now,” Tom said as if defending himself. 

“Are you a couple?” James asked. 

“Yes,” Tom said. 

“No,” answered y/n at the same time. 

Both of them turned to each other, with confusion. 

Emma blew her cheeks in. 

“Um… What did you think of the… I saw you guys were working on Jesse’s girl today!” Emma quickly intruded. 

James clicked his tongue. “No, wait Emma… This is interesting,” James continued. 

“What-” Tom frowned watching y/n. 

Y/N shook her head. “James can you please leave us alone.” 

“I… Well, I’m just confused, and I have more questions… A,  y/n why do you keep making out with this man if you’re not a couple I mean you can do whatever the fuck you want with your life but this man may I remind you has broken your heart and hurt you in so many possible ways—even broke your bones?” 

Tom coughed. “That was accidental... all of those.” 

James shook his head. “Eh, I haven't finished pretty boy, and b) why are you Tom, saying you’re a couple when you haven’t talked about it?” He pushed. 

Y/N glared at her brother. “James this isn’t any of your business.” 

Tom only clenched his jaw. 

“Uh, er… Guys, I’m gonna….” Emma had awkwardly stood up, “I’m gonna pretend they need me over there,” she announced before leaving. 

“You’re fucking insane,” y/n declared at her brother before storming off, following Emma, leaving James and Tom alone. 

Tom avoided his gaze. 

“I know you hate me, but-” Tom started. 

“I don’t, I care a lot about you and that’s why I’m doing this…” He said. 

Tom scoffed. “Oh, so you’re helping me out with this?” He glared. 

“I’m not,” James said. “But you perfectly know what you did to y/n, and I’m sorry Tom but you can’t-” 

“It’s between me and her,” he said. 

“But I know you both, and you’re both so stupid, Tom, for fuck’s sake, and you slept with Cherry,” James snapped. “I’m not letting that-” 

“Who told you?” Tom asked. 

“Doesn’t matter,” Jamessaid. 

“Did you tell her?” 

“Didn’t have to,” James said. “She knew it already. And if you don’t have the balls to talk about it with her, which honestly-” 

“I want to, okay?” Tom barked. “I can’t believe I did it but I want to work it out!” He snapped. “I thought you were fine with us!” 

“No, Tom I’m not—fine with this,” James explained. “And I can’t believe I’ve let you hurt her this much and I swear Tom she might believe you but I don’t-” 

“Look we want to talk it out, I mean it alright—your sister is the love-” 

“Love of your life! Then why have you been such an asshole to her?” James wondered. “Do you even know it Tom? How badly you broke her? After Rome? Do you even realize-” 

“Yes I do! And that’s why I bloody want to do things right this time, okay? I want to give her the entire world, alright? I’m not… I’m not joking, alright? I actually… I want to make it up to her, I’m… so in love with her, and I just want the best for her,” he said, gulping. “I…” He sighed. “Maybe we haven’t talked about it because we both know it’ll break us apart, alright?” Tom looked away. “And I just want her to know about it, everything, how she’s been my everything… Since we were children, okay… James you know me, you’ve known me my whole life and you know I’m not lying to you, I love her,” he sighed. “I don’t want to hurt her and I know I’ve fucked up. I just… I know it, it’s so hard, and I…” He gulped. “I guess… I know I slept with Cherry, I know, I did it, I’m not denying it, and I have no excuse but I… When I did it it was… I thought she had left to move on with Tim again because... “ Tom looked away. “I know it, alright? I’m not… good enough for her and you’ve shown me that, because you didn’t fucking act this way with Tim, and no one has said it with me, I know I’m the bad guy here, Harry doesn’t approve of me, Sam doesn’t approve of me, Emma doesn’t approve of me, you don’t… like me,” Tom gulped. “But I genuinely love her, and I know I’m a fucking mess, but… nobody knows about us, alright?” 

James clenched his jaw. No, it wasn’t alright no matter how many times he said it. 

“And it’s difficult to apologize, you’re right, I probably don’t have the balls for it, I’m a fucking coward, and I know, but I’m just trying to be honest with her, and with you, I genuinely want the world for her, and if I have to go back to the start then I will,” he sighed. “And I don’t know how to talk about it with her, and I don’t know if she feels the same way,” he took a deep breath. “And it’s killing me that I don’t know where she’s standing, and she avoids talking and I know how… She works, you know? She’s always been so reserved.” 

“The problem with both of you is you both think it’s you against each other,” James said. 

Tom looked up at him. 

“It’s always been that way, y/n against Tom, and I feel like you’re doing it again,” James said. “I am just telling you both, to realize it, it’s both of you against the problem not you against each other,” James said. 

Tom nodded. “I know that, and I’ve tried talking to her, but she… Ignores it, or someone comes in, or we have to-” 

“You’re searching for excuses,” James said, he seemed calmer now. 

“I’m not,” Tom said. “And I really mean it James, I don’t want to break her heart, I don’t want to hurt her anymore.” 

“And if she ends up hurting you?” 

“I’ll work it out,” Tom said. 

“Why are you directing this?” James questioned. 

Tom didn’t answer that, instead he took a deep breath. 

“If this is another one of your stupid plans—“

“It’s not, and not even a plan to try to win her back,” Tom explained, “it’s not—not like that. I want to give her the world,, and I know this—This whole thing is the world to her, you—you really underestimate me, Jay, as if I were some kind of stranger to you or to her, but—I’m not,” he repeated. 

“Maybe it’s time you both move on.” 

“I don’t want to move on, and—I tried, I—that’s why it happened, everyone said it: Move on, Tom, she’s just another girl… and fuck.” 

“She’s—“

“She’s not, I’m very aware of that, but even Haz and Harry said it, I fucked up, she fucked up, move on man,” Tom mocked their voices, angrily. “Just another girl, and, and I tried to… move on, thinking yeah, it’s only a stupid thought or whim, yes and I thought—if she’s really just another girl, then why the hell can’t I move on? how—Even other friends said, hey, you’re Tom Holland,” he let out a soft dry cackle. “a million girls are dying to be with you and—“Tom closed his eyes, “maybe it was that, me trying to—Trying to move on, but I don’t—want it, I don’t want another girl, James.” 

James only watched him. 

“And I’m telling you this not because you are her brother but because you’re my friend and I’m—I’m just—You know me, James, you know me perfectly and you’re acting as if you didn’t, yes I’m—I am an idiot, and yes I know I’m probably the worst option for her, and I probably tick every single bad box but—at the same time I’m—“ he gulped. “I just can’t believe how stupid I am, and I—I am” Tom meant it, James could tell. “When I’m with her, I feel like myself, and I don’t often feel that way, and she’s just this… incredible person. And I’m—terrified, I’m terrified of it. But I need her,” he gulped. “Not—in—I don’t know.” 

Maybe James needed to hear that from Tom. Though he still—James couldn’t forgive Tom. Even if it wasn’t his business, he could forgive him for breaking his sister. 

“And I’m very aware that I’ve lost her before because I know it, I’m an idiot, but maybe I’m too stubborn to admit that I lost my chance. Because I—I haven’t, alright? And this might be my last one but—I can’t admit it to myself, but I know about it, Jay, I know that what we could’ve had is gone so maybe just let me cling on to whatever we’re holding on until she decides to let me go, alright?” 

“I don’t understand why you’re both in a relationship where both of you think it’ll end up badly,” James had questioned. 

“You see, I’m trying for it not to end up that way,” he said, 

“But you think it’ll end, then?” 

Tom hadn’t answered him. 

“Why do you love her?” 

“She’s my home,” Tom shrugged as he quickly answered, he didn’t have to think about it. “I—I was always scared of growing up but it doesn’t hurt when I’m with her, when life is—getting too hard she was always there with those pair of old jeans and bright smile and yes, initially she was there to call me an idiot but she just made time stop, completely,” he shrugged. “Because she just—“ he smiled sadly, “she helps me find my heartbeat in the middle of all the bustle.”

James didn’t know Tom could be so poetic. But he meant it, or at least James hoped he meant it. 

James didn’t push it any further. After that, y/n had ignored him. Y/N was excellent at doing so, if she wanted to ignore someone she’d make sure they noticed. And she was angry at her brother. Besides when it comes to siblings, it feels even more personal and very immaturely done. y/n had ignored James and made sure to make him feel ignored. She would avoid his gaze, and she’d pretend she didn’t listen to him. 

She hadn’t even offered him a ride back to aunt Eliza’s. 

Tom had been the one to offer it. 

James had apologized to Tom, and he had only shrugged it off. 

“She’s your sister. I get it, she deserves the world, you’re only trying to give it to her.” 

Harry said he needed a beer, maybe they all needed one. 

Maybe James had to give it to Tom, y/n was one to ignore people and her problems per se. Tom had also ignored James, not like y/n, Tom was probably angry at James. James didn’t care for that. 

“I love the chemistry between Gregg and Auli’i,” Harry had said when they were at the bar, all of them beers in their hands. “They’re—really—“

“It’s too familiar,” Sam had laughed. “Very familiar.” 

“Not—there’s something missing,” Tom said. 

“Is it weird?” James asked. 

“What?” 

“Come on, the script?” James said. 

Tom shrugged. “It gives me a better understanding of her,” Tom admitted. “It’s—She really did write her heart out in there.” 

Harry watched between them. 

“What happened today?” Sam wondered. “I saw y/n storm off with Emma.” 

“I was a jerk,” James said, “to her and to Tom.” 

Sam and Harry side-eyed each other. 

“What’s going on with Emma?” Sam asked, quickly trying to avoid the subject. 

Harry squeezed his eyes shut, it seemed like an old bad joke hearing about it. 

“She’s… She says she’s not ready,” Harry said. “She just says she’s not ready, and she…” Harry took a deep breath.

“You two are the most stupid men in the world,” he said, staring at Tom and Harry. “You both come here, without giving them any warning, and you expect them to run after you? And don’t--Emma’s reaction is logical,” James continued. “But you have to understand that Emma came here to heal, Y/N came here for her dream, and you two came in barging just to shove it, the two men they came running away from just shoved in their way to say ‘Hey, y/n, I’m in charge of your dream now’” 

Sam took a log sip from his beer, with a big smirk. “Thank you, James, that’s what I’ve been telling them.” 

“But… Okay, yes, but you don’t know all the facts,” Harry sighed. “Look, if we hadn’t taken the project probably nobody else would!” 

James blinked. “What?” 

Tom looked away. 

Harry bit his lip, nervously, shaking his head. “I… We called the studio looking for her project and apparently there had been a lot of directors and producers rejecting the project,” Harry said. 

“So yes, we decided to barge in, and we said we’d be the stand in directors until someone showed up,” Tom explained. “We worked with the casting and everything and we’ve been behind the stage but we--And, I know that y/n never wanted us to be involved but the thing is it’s… It’s a hard project, and she’s unknown, and… It’s an amazing story, you know? But it’s… Films these days are all about superheroes, I should know, or too serious, and--It’s got potential, it’s got a lot of potential, and--” Tom sighed. “Maybe it was a mistake but at least this way we can be assured it’s get done her way. So at the end… we did accept the project because I’m just... “ 

Harry watched his brother and then turned to James. “Yeah.” 

James had really underestimated Tom, probably everyone did. Maybe that’s what Tom was so stressed about. 

“I do--” Tom clenched his jaw. “I might want to change just a few bits but I…”He looked away. “We’ve been talking about it with her, to make William more human, less of an asshole.” 

Harry nodded. 

“I think,” Sam shrugged. “Well, I don’t know much about films or whatever, but I think he’s human enough, and at least you understand it, I think y/n actually did a great job on him,” Sam continued. “I…think he even made him even way too nice,” he chuckled. “Like, there is a point where you understand why she loves him, I think, the story is built so you think you need to hate him but I guess the audience is supposed to fall in love with him as Y/N-- I mean, Valerie falls, hell, she even made me want to fall in love,” Sam laughed. “But I mean it’s purely fiction, in real life I don’t get how the hell she’s in love with you.”  

“Shut up,” Tom rolled his eyes, he had chuckled slightly, but James saw that Tom was slightly hurt by those words. 

James had read the script only once, he hadn’t really read it because he felt like he was reading y/n’s diary, which he had done once when they were younger, and she had been so angry at him. The script had felt like getting into y/n’s deepest feelings. He remembered a particular line which had stuck out from the rest. 

“I love him and I’ve run out of reasons to say why, I just know that  even when there’s no music playing we will find a way to dance.” 

Maybe Tom needed everyone to know the backstory, see past his actions. And probably y/n didn’t know this, James knew she’d get angry because she wanted to get it out herself, not be helped by him, make a name for herself, however in the industry it was difficult enough. But maybe it made sense, the reason why y/n loved Tom so much, because she didn’t need reasons to, she just did, and he kept giving her reasons to. 

“But….Emma, then?” James asked, trying to get back on the subject. 

 “Well… she slept with Josh,” Harry continued. 

“What?” Tom interrupted, angrily. “She did what?” 

“That night after the movie,” Harry bit his lip. “I-” 

“And you’re okay with that?” Tom questioned. 

“They’re not together, Tom,” Sam quickly said. “Besides, it’s most likely because-” 

“Because she was nervous about Harry coming here,” James ended the sentence.

Harry shrugged. “She was honest about it, and I mean--I don’t, I know she doesn’t love him, and yes, I was jealous but…” 

James watched Tom who nodded, knowingly. 

“I mean she chose a random guy to have sex with because she was stressed,” Harry nodded. “And she did tell me it meant nothing and I mean, it’s… It’s her body, she can do whatever she wants, and we… are not together.” 

“Where does one draw the line, though?” Sam questioned. “With rebounds, I mean.” 

James scoffed and shrugged. “It depends, on how soon, how the relationship ended.” 

“The whole, are we in a break or not,” Harry shrugged. 

“Yeah,” James laughed. “Classic Ross and Rachel, we are on a break type of situation, like, of course, they were on a break but it was too soon, because-- there are breakups that last for a day, y’know? The argument says it all, and right away… Gives the wrong impression, as if, I didn’t love you anymore so I hooked up with the first person I saw, either in spite or-” 

Harry nodded. “Yeah, also who it is with.” 

“Oh, yes,” Sam nodded. “Right, like.. If it’s with another ex?” Sam clicked his tongue. 

Harry scrunched his nose. “I think that’s normal, you know?”

“Is it?” Tom frowned. “Why would it be normal?” 

James saw it as an opportunity to defend his sister, not sure whether Tom knew it or not. “Because it’s something familiar,” James said. “Like, you don’t have to search for something you might not like so just go to someone who once you know… Knew you.” 

Tom coughed. “But like, that should mean they have feelings for them.” 

“Nah,” Sam tossed a few fries into his mouth. “Well, depends on the ex, but like, if you’re only hooking up with them, I mean,” Sam rolled his eyes. 

“It could awake feelings,” James nodded. “But if you’re searching for an ex it means you’re not up for someone new, it means you’re stuck somewhere there and sleeping with an ex means not wanting to move on.” 

“And alright, if you-- You’re still dating Clark, right?” Tom asked. “If you broke up and he slept with his ex would you forgive him?” 

James scrunched his nose. “I mean,” he shrugged. “As long as he doesn’t sleep with any relative.” 

Tom opened his mouth to say something but then exhaled defeatedly. 

“Like, for example, Sam,” James said. “That’s crossing the line on rebounds.” 

Sam nodded in agreement. “Yeah, that’s… fucking up, by the way Cherry’s coming and well--” 

“What exactly happened between you both?” James questioned. 

Tom bit his lip, he took a deep breath as he tried to map his thoughts out, knowing that what he was about to say would change a lot of things. 

“We were friends,” Tom said. 

Sam and Harry only watched his older brother, probably nervous to the outcome of the conversation. 

“I--Well,” he sighed. “She said she wanted someone to show her around London and…” Tom shook his head. “I… Well, she did flirt since the beginning and I… I didn’t answer at first, but then…I was so angry, I… I thought about it and thought hey, I lost my chance and y/n ran back to Tim and she is probably moving on.”

“Why did you think she was moving on?” James questioned. “She literally told you she loved you and only you.” 

Tom took a deep breath. “I’m an idiot, and… I dunno,” he sighed. “I thought she would end up going back with Tim. 

Harry widened his eyes with surprise, awkwardly asking for a second beer. 

“I don’t know, I was heartbroken, I was stupid and… I missed her too much and I...And I felt lonely and and everyone here sees me as the bad guy, and I continue to be the bad guy, but she was someone new and someone who didn’t know me and she was... And then I saw Tim posted a picture and it was… Undeniable taken by her, you know?” Tom looked down. “And I… Well, that’s how they started last time, her taking pictures of him and I thought she would again and so in spite, or full of rage and so I tried to move on and the option was right there in front of me and Tim kept posting you know, and even if he didn’t say it I just knew it was y/n, and one day after way too many beers I finally gave in to Cherr’s flirting and it--”He squeezes his eyes shut. “And I told her that whatever happened, it didn’t have to mean anything I told her, no strings attached, no feelings and… it happened,” he sighed. “And I….But it didn’t feel… I don’t even remember how it happened and I just didn’t feel good with it, it made me feel even worse and lonelier and then she kept wanting to hang out and I just shut her out because it was a mistake and then, I thought I was a rebound to her as well, she had just broken up with her girlfriend and I thought I was just a rebound but she then… Showed more and I just… Gave her no explanation, not… I don’t know, I told her I wasnt in a good place and that I was still in love with someone else and that wouldn’t change and yes, I’m the asshole again and…” 

All of them stayed quiet. What were they supposed to say? 

It was ironic, how both Tom and y/n had assumed they’d move on, and the reasons why they did it, both of them sleep with an ex and a relative, because both of them assumed the other one would move on. Why? Maybe that’s why they were so stubborn right now because both of them realized neither did and they probably never would. As if they were just happy to find out they still loved each other but were too afraid to admit it out loud. 

They remained quiet. 

“Eh,” Sam had cut the silence, too awkward for him to handle. “Not that I don’t want to talk about a conversation that will probably end up giving Tom a mental breakdown, and don’t get me wrong I love having awkward silences,  but I need… I need to know, Jay,” Sam smiled. “May I know what’s that on your finger?” 

Harry and Tom finally landed their sight on James’ finger, a silver band wrapped right around his left ring finger.

“Hm?” James quickly hid his hand. 

“Is that an engagement ring?” Harry questioned with a smirk. 

“Uh-” 

“Wait, uh--” Tom shook his head to shake away the sad feeling. “Are you engaged?” 

“To Clark?” Harry asked. 

Though he didn’t want to talk about it, he knew that the other conversation wasn’t for him to know. The other conversation was something Tom had to work out with y/n, which, yes, the reason had been very stupid, y/n had to work out with Tom how Tom felt about Tim. 

Probably James and everyone else did, maybe they really had made Tom feel unworthy of y/n’s love and that’s why he kept sabotaging himself. 

James did end up telling them, and he even finished the conversation thanking Tom for introducing him to Clark. Of course he didn’t have to tell them all the details, they were three straight men too stupid to care, and James was grateful he didn’t have to share as much, because it was his story, not anyone elses to know, it was his relationship and it was his Clark. 

James had, however, explained to them that Clark would come, too, James was slightly nervous about it, given that he knew that y/n was definitely not going to be welcoming and that she’d keep ignoring him. That’s how y/n worked with James, no matter if he tried to apologize, she wouldn’t talk to him. 

James knew he had made a mistake with this, but he needed to hear it from Tom, and though it wasn’t technically any of his business, he knew that Tom was more understanding, in his own way, than y/n. 

Tom could talk to James, that’s the difference, and Tom hadn’t talked to James for a while and so James didn’t know, and of course it drove him crazy not to know why or how this was happening. 

Tom, Sam and Harry all offered James a room in the house they were renting to stay there with Clark, he had accepted it because he knew Cherry was coming. 

James didn’t want to face Cherry. Because James had this one habit that he couldn’t ever get rid off, he was too nosy when he wasn’t asked, and he had talked to Cherry about Tom, and warned her that Tom was just too important to y/n. 

Y/N, as expected, kept ignoring James. But he had seen that Tom and y/n had gone out one night, alone, together. He had heard them walk into the house, and as much as he had tried to avoid eavesdropping, he had walked out, innocently to the kitchen and he’d seen them, on the couch, talking. 

“I think we need to add a scene,” Tom had said. “It’s… important.” 

“But… I don’t get it,” y/n said. “You want me tro write another one, I thought you’d said it was too long.” 

“But this one is important y/n, it gives… backstory to William.” 

“So you want me to make something up? Just to….”

“Yes, I told you, William searches for her after the whole London thing.” 

“But that didn’t happen,” y/n said. “And that’s why Valerie-” 

It seemed, Tom had told James, that Tom had found a loophole to talk without talking. Tom had explained to James that y/n would be avoiding the conversation, that didn’t surprise James. But Tom found a way to use the script to go over it, Tom had told James that they hadn’t really talked much but he had figured how to make them understand each other. 

“It did happen, so let’s add this scene, right before Jessie’s girl scene, I need it,” Tom said. “And I talked about it with Harry and he says he wants it, too.” 

“So he searches up for her? And then what? She shuts him out-” 

“She’s not the one answering the door,” Tom explained. “But William does go to mend things and then T… Teddy opens the door.” 

y/n had stayed quiet, as James was still wandering in the kitchen. 

“James will you please leave?” She asked her brother. “I won’t continue this conversation until you leave, I know what you’re doing.” 

He had left, but at least they had opened a conversation. He had seen them the very next day, asleep on the couch, so peacefully y/n laying on top of him. She had woken earlier than him and seen James in the kitchen. 

“Good morning,” James had said. 

“Morning,” y/n had answered sheepishly, as she stretched out. 

“Oh, are you talking to me now?” James had asked. “I made tea.” 

“No,” y/n had said before getting a glass of water. 

“I’m sorry,” James said. 

“No, you’re not,” Y/N answered. “You got it your way, didn’t you?” 

“I just want the best for you,” James said. “Have you talked already?” 

“About some things,” y/n said. “But it’s none of your business, as you said it before, it’s like Clark for you, Tom is mine, and my relationship is mine.” 

“So there is a relationship?” James asked. 

“There’s a hope for one,” y/n said. “And yes, I fell asleep on him, and yes, I keep kissing him but I simply want to, alright?” 

As soon as Tom had woken up and walked up to them, probably sore from the couch too as he was stretching out his arms, y/n ran over to him and gave him a passionate kiss, probably a very dumb way to prove to her brother that she was being rebellious. 

And if that hadn’t been a message clear enough, she’d flipped James off before walking away. 

“I’m--” Tom probably wanted to apologize to James but was still left too dumbfounded with the kiss. 

“Don’t,” James had rolled his eyes. 

That kind of behaviour continued, y/n trying to prove something to James. 

Cherry had arrived three days before y/n’s birthday, and Clark had arrived the next day after she did. 

They hadn’t had any contact with Cherry, not James at least. James was too busy exploring LA with his fiancé. It felt weird saying it. 

“Fiancé.” 

Y/N didn’t know Clark was in town, but as soon as she learned it, she had seemed to forget she was angry at James. She’d met Clark before, of course she knew of his existence  and that her brother was seeing him, they’d met but y/n had learned from James’ pasts relationships to not get too attached because ‘James changed couple more often than he probably showered’, which was too different from y/n, and y/n, though she had noticed about Clark, and though she did mention it from time, to time, James had tried to avoid it, because he’d finally fallen in love and he didn’t know how to act around it. 

Clark, however, had shown up to Harry’s engagement party, and that hadn’t gone well. Of course James was skeptical of showing his family, and the Hollands because he… Well, he didn’t want Clark to think they acted that way. Of course, that’s why he was reserved. 

Tom had been the one person who had had contact with Clark. 

Clark had said it to James once, “Tom is deeply in love with your sister.” 

“They hate each other,” James had answered. 

“No, if he did hate her he wouldn’t pay that much attention.” 

Clark was right, obviously. Clark, actually was someone who liked to observe and he was the one to calm James.

As soon as Clark was in town, he had listened to James’ stress and said: “She’s been in love with him her whole life and the dude, too. And you’ve said it, y/n tends to save it all for herself.” 

He was right. But James still thought that y/n and Tom had to talk about it, otherwise the chaos would come, but maybe it could wait. 

But y/n’s birthday arrived. 

Although the chaos was supposed to be coming, James wouldn’t have guessed it would come this way. And he wouldn’t have guessed it would come that way. 

previous chapter next chapter   perennial masterlist.

perfidy  ( series masterlist)

wanna be tagged?

tag list  @spidxrparkxr @mukesnugget @anxiousdesignerdancerbandlover @happywolves81   @happywolves81 @applenter @silver-winter-wolf    @applenter @claredolphinbear24 @bookgirlunicorn   @tomshufflepuff @avengersgirllorianna @nevertoofarfromivar @saintlavrents @herofiennestiffinashardinscott.  @tomzfrog @dark-infernal-instruments @awkwardfangirl2014 @spideysimpossiblegirl  @tomzfrog  @xapham @xapham @xapham @tomhollandisagod @danicarosaline @laurfangirl424 @vintageroses1014516 @cinnamon-roll-peter   @the-lost-fairy-tale @the-lost-fairy-tale @lala-florez @lala-florez    @ilcveyou3000 @xxtomxo @socorroann @muffinmari25   @cassindeansass  @rogers-obsessed-barnes-curious @southsidespideyy @nathaliabakes @nathaliabakes @nathaliabakes @embrace-themagic @bradfordbantams @sanniegirl1214 @softholand  @softholand @fairytaleparker @underooling @griff1ndor @griff1ndor @thatweirdomimic @avengersgirllorianna @reginalaufeyson-holmes @better-daisy @yeahimcrying @allmonstersxarehuman @spider-manholland @itstaskeen @itstaskeen @georiaang @sebxstianbarnes @kissingtrutharchives  @snoopy3000 @prettymessygurl @spideyparkerstark @fanfic-4-you @lexshead @officiallyunofficialperson @mannien @whitewolfandthefox @melodiclovesong @bizzlepotter @bizzlepotter  @localfangirlx @acceptance07 @witchythingscore @witchythingscore @swaggyspiderman @localfangirlx  @queengemsworld @liberty0123 @stiles-banshees @itsjusttor @stretchkingblog97 @annathesillyfriend @dangerousluv1 @tomshufflepuff @thewayilookatbacon @petersdiaries @emjaywrites @emjaywrites @infamousmany @jungeunave @forevermore-euphoria @ispiderdudei @ispiderdudei @literalfsngirltrash @quacksonhq @it-is-rebel-owl-ma-dudes @desir-ae @desir-ae @desir-ae @peterporkpie @peterporkpie @smolpeachees @thenoddingbunny-blog @quackeroos @spideyyeet @spideyyeet @astoldbydanid @astoldbydanid @hollandcreep @milly7110 @milly7110 @hollandcreep @rebekkah4766 @farfromtommy  @rubberducky-jrr @oh-whatabeautiful-parker @coveredinthemessimade  @shameless-self-promo-of-a-shrub @sweetiesangster @thatdamjoke @annathesillyfriend @l0ove-sick-blues @witchythingscore @witchythingscore @bookworm06  @bookworm06  @lala-florez @lala-florez @chaoticpete @shezzalocked @ @chaoticpete @lowkey-love-loki @cosmicholland @frenchfrostpudding @badbitchydecisions @w4ybefor3nir4na @americaswritings @ilovepeterparker13 @lukesbabylon @iamaunicorn4704 @iamaunicorn4704 @simple-things @simple-things @sip-portteam  @herondale-snow-carstairs @t-holland2080 @tony-starks-ego @quaksonhehe0 @stargazerholland @marvelslut-musicalnerd @hotrubycrab @sovereignparker @peter-parker-tony-stank-trash @belleknows @mysticalinsomniac @nycparkers @nycparkers @anythingthaticareabout @spn-assemble-seven @tanyalooovesyou @somethingchaotic  @heartofholland @peachybloomss @youcompletemesk @emyla3305 @emyla3305–butt  @hollandstanevans @farfromtommy @farfromtommy @southbeachfeeling @eridanuswave @tonguetiedholland @wolvesofthewinter @quacksonobrien @dcnerd98 @ifntelyinspirit @electraheart-3174 @julialucena5 @itsmilamawson @harryssuckz @harryssuckz @xstarbae @xstarbae @tiredfeels @peterbparkerrwrites   @averyfosterthoughts @darethedragonknights  @hannahholland1811 @justanamesstuff @emyla3305 @abbiefangirls247 @onewithnomightypowers @itscaminow @youllbemineandillbeyoursbabelove @hotrubycrab  @spidey-holland-96 @awkwardnesshabitat @geminiparkers@primadonnasdream @slytherinambitious @maybecharming @where-art-thau-romeo @viagracex @viagracex @sspidermanss @pcterparxer @whatevsholland @aleyabee @aleyabee @lovewolfspirit @viagracex  @xallyouneedislovexx @panicattheeverywherekid  @pcterparxer @thehauntingofmymind @redhoodparker @redhoodparker @cakepopcriss @allthisfortommy @aleyabee @perspectiveparker @let-me-luve-you @xxpeachyxo @m-a-r-i-n-t-p @superstarchick @notjustpenandpaper @morbiddanvers @runaway3 @runaway3 @peterbxrnes  @lu-morningstar @th0ttie4tommy @riasaurusrex @riasaurusrex @frustratingpaperclip @readheadwriter @geesquariid @noxceleste @noxceleste   @peterparker-rickybowen-mybabies @witchything @peterporkpie @bookworm06 @panicattheeverywherekid @imthefloor @ohmyquackson @seaveyheartful @wangtan-boys @obiwanownsmyass @sadisticfries @not-some-docile-teenager @galaxystern08 @lovemarvelousfics @tomzfrog @calsthomas @thearchersupremacy @nikitajackson @dayazenn @the-fandom-life-forever @just-kickin-ass @quaksonhehe @dummiesshort @samaratheweirdo @fr3akingphantrash​