#like i genuinely have forgotten what it’s like to be cared for

[elleaitch22]

Terms of Endearment

Chapter 8: The Lie of Quiet

A/N: I'm still sleep deprived. I hope you guys love it! xx Elle

Warnings: Panic attack, mentions of past abuse, slight homophobia

Word Count: 4.1k

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Azzi woke up slowly, just like she had been doing the past few days. It was nice to not have to be up before the Sun every day. She smiled to herself realizing she didn’t really have any plans today. Granted, she needed to figure out what she was going to do next, but according to Paige, she had no reason to rush.

Her phone vibrated on her nightstand. Brow furrowed; she turned it over.

Paige Bueckers.

Why the hell was Paige calling her at 6:30 in the morning?

“Hello?” She spoke softly.

“Good morning, Azzi. Sorry to call so early, but I have a meeting at 7:30, so I won’t be able to take Soleil on her school tour. I know it’s last minute, but can you get her ready and take her?”

Azzi didn’t think Paige took a breath. “Let’s calm down. I’ll come up now.”

She pulled an oversized hoodie over her pajamas, slid into her slippers, and headed up to the penthouse.

She was in another suit. God. Azzi needed her to stop wearing those. They made her brain and her face overheat. She was so freaking hot, and Azzi couldn’t have her.

“Hey, Az.” That nickname. Again! Blue eyes trailed from her fuzzy slides, up to her bare legs, the tiny strip of her pink pajama shorts, to the big gray sweatshirt, finally landing on her face and messy bun. “You’re making it hard to want to leave for work.”

Azzi’s face was burning up. “Oh! Th-thanks.”

The smirk on Paige’s face turned into a genuine smile, small, but there. “Thank you for covering on such short notice. It’s just a new client, and they’re going to bring in millions if it goes well.”

Azzi exhaled, walking to the couch. “No problem! What all do you need me to do with Soleil today?”

“It was supposed to be a chill morning for us. We were gonna go out for breakfast, go to Four Oaks Christian to see if it would be a better fit, have lunch, maybe watch a movie. I hate missing time with her for fucking meetings.” She sighed.

Azzi’s eyes widened. “You want me to tour another Christian school after everything that happened yesterday?”

Paige’s blue eyes locked onto the doe-eyed ones. “I made sure they knew she had a gay mom. Said it’s fine and they respect all kinds of families.” She shrugged. “It’s just a tour. You know what a school needs, and I trust you. You’ll know if that place is good enough for Lei or not.”

Eyes wide, Azzi choked out, “You’d trust me with a choice that big?”

“Azzi, I told you. You’re family now. That means I trust you. Means we all trust you.”

Warmth blossomed in Azzi’s chest. She had forgotten what it felt like to be trusted, needed, accepted. “O-okay. I’ll make sure to take notes for you.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I promise I trust your judgement.” She smiled.

Azzi’s ears rang. Paige smiled. At her this time. The first smile she’d seen that wasn’t directed to one of her sisters or Soleil. It was a smile for Azzi.

God, she had to get a handle on this stupid crush.

She was snapped out of her trance by the press of cold metal on her hand. She felt a slight spark when Paige’s fingers brushed over hers. “Here’s my card. Whatever you need goes on here.” She paused, smirking. “Actually, I’m gonna check and make sure you spent enough for breakfast and lunch for two people. If it’s not up to my standards, you’ll be receiving a nice gift from me.”

Azzi rolled her eyes.

She’s so dramatic. She thinks. But she likes to take care of you. The other side of her brain helpfully provides. Yeah, because you’re like a sister to her. She literally just told you that you’re family now.

“I’m gonna tell Soleil bye, then I’ll be out of your hair. She’ll wake up and come out when she’s ready. Please just make sure you’re at the school by 11.”

And Azzi was left alone. She plopped down on the sofa, turning on Zootopia. She scrolled on TikTok, volume down so she could hear Soleil when she wakes up.

After a while, she heard light footsteps. A lump of fuzz crawled onto the couch, burrowing into Azzi’s side.

“Good morning, Soleil.” Azzi whispered.

She got a grunt in return and let out a light giggle at the lack of energy. She had no idea Soleil could be this still.

The two stayed cuddled on the couch until the movie ended. “Okay, Pretty Face. We gotta get ready. We’ve got a busy day ahead of us.”

A mumbled “Kay,” and two outstretched arms was all Azzi got in response.

She helped the girl brush her teeth and wash her face. She sat cross-legged on the floor while she waited for Soleil to pick an outfit.

After she’s dressed in a yellow gingham romper, Soleil approached Azzi shyly.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Azzi brushed the girl’s hair from her face.

“Wan you to do my haiw.” She mumbled. “Please?”

Azzi smiled. “Of course I’ll do your hair! I thought you’d never ask!”

Soleil giggled. The first sign of normalcy from the girl.

“Let’s get your shoes on, and we can do your hair downstairs at my house.”

Two bubble braids and a pair of stark white Converse later, Soleil was ready. Azzi was very much not.

She was slicking her damp hair into a ponytail, going through different outfit options in her head. She should probably look the part. She should look like she could afford a thirty-thousand-dollar tuition. She should look like one of those moms who had it all together — the kind who dropped their kids off at school, hit Pilates, cleaned the house, baked dessert, and finished laundry before pickup. Even though she didn’t belong, she needed to look like she did, for Soleil and Paige’s sake.

Before her mind could spiral, Soleil’s voice called out from her closet. “We match?”

Azzi was secretly grateful that the girl had helped her eliminate some choices on what to wear. “Of course, sweetie!”

She met the girl who was holding on to one of the yellow dresses, much too short to pull it off the hanger. The dress was perfect. It would hit the middle of her calf, and it had thick straps with a neckline that covered most of her cleavage. She decided to pair it with woven wedges, a matching purse, and a pair of sunglasses.

Soleil came up to hold her hand while she looked in the mirror. They made a cute pair.

Azzi made sure to grab Paige’s black card off the table before meeting Morgan downstairs.

Today, Morgan was driving Paige’s everyday car instead of the Escalade. “Hi Mo!” Soleil greeted cheerfully.

Morgan replied back just as happily, and the two launched into a conversation as Azzi buckled the girl in.

“Good morning, Morgan. We’re headed to Wheat’s End Café.”

The ride to the café was short but filled with lighthearted comments from Soleil about being happy to stay home from school today.

The two of them walked into the café, hands tight in each other’s grasp. Azzi saw that shyness peeking out of Soleil again, almost shocked at how quickly she hid into herself. She took a picture of the menu and pulled the girl to the side, so they could talk about what they wanted in private.

“So, do you want something sweet or something meaty?” Soleil pointed to a picture of a cinnamon roll and a chocolate chip waffle. “How about we get one of each and share?”  Soleil nodded, burrowing her face in Azzi’s neck. “We can get some fruit and some bacon too, and maybe a bagel and lox for Morgan.”

Azzi hoisted her up and held her quietly until they got to the front of the line. “Do you want to tell the barista what you want, Lei?” She burrowed her hair into Azzi’s neck, even more than before.

“My daughter is shy like that too. What would you to like to get?” The barista smiled gently.

Azzi’s smile faltered a bit at the woman’s assumption. She couldn’t have known any better, the matching dresses and closeness definitely made them look like a mother-daughter duo. She put in her order quickly, adding two hot chocolates, getting the order just as quickly.

Morgan drove them to Lakeshore East Park and started on her bagel while Soleil and Azzi found a table in the shade. Soleil sits quietly while Azzi sets out the fruit, bacon, part of the muffin and waffle. When Azzi blows on her hot chocolate before giving it to the little one, who smiles. “Mommy does that too.”

“There she is,” Azzi grins. “I didn’t think you were ever gonna talk to me again!”

Soleil giggles, “I don’t like new people. Mommy telled me stwangews not safe.”

“Your mommy is right, like always. But you don’t have to worry when you’re with me. I got you Lei Lei.”

She nodded, looking at her food. “Awe these gluten fwee? I don’t wanna get sick.” Soleil asked, face falling slightly.

Azzi gasped, placing a hand over her heart. “Of course they are gluten free! I’m allergic too.”

The smile that stretched across Soleil’s face was worth all the gluten-filled foods Azzi would miss out on. “Nobody else was gluten fwee. Now we can be best fwiends!”

She crawled into Azzi’s lap, content to eat her breakfast in her lap. Their informal breakfast date was filled with giggles and jokes about any and everything.

They ended breakfast full and happy. Azzi snapped a selfie with her and Soleil’s syrup and icing covered face and sent it to Paige.

Azzi: Soleil is a MENACE. a perfect, cute, sugar-coated menace 😍 10/10 would recommend.

She’s just finished wiping her face when she gets a reply.

Paige Bueckers: She gets it from me. You can do this every day if you want. We’d love it

A little shocked and flushed, Azzi hearts the message, while she and Soleil walk back to the car.

Azzi: heading to four oaks christian now. will lyk how it goes

“Okie dokes Soleil. We’re going to see a new school. I know you get a little nervous when you go somewhere new, but that’s okay. I’ll be right there with you, and if you don’t like it, we don’t have to stay! I just want you to try, and then we’re going to pick up lunch and go home. And we can eat and watch a movie if you want?”

Soleil’s brows furrowed with determination. “I twy my best.” She paused. “And I want Fwozen.”

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Four Oaks Christian School was a nice school. It would take about an hour to get there in the mornings, but the view of Lake Michigan made it worth it. The campus didn’t even look like you were still in Cook County; full frees lined the road. It was quiet out here, and Azzi felt the stillness may work well for Soleil.

Soleil reached for Azzi’s hand, grip firm as they walked to the office. Her romper looked bright against the landscape; sunshine personified. Seeing a few parents getting in and out of cars, Azzi smiled knowing her dress made her look like she belonged in the PTA meetings and lunch bunch clubs.

When a smidge of doubt started to peak in, Azzi felt Soleil grip her hand a little tighter, looking up with a nervous face. She didn’t have time to be insecure; Soleil needed her to be steady.

Soleil’s grip tightened the closer the got to the front desk, but after Azzi checked them in, the girl stood next to her, instead of hiding behind her legs. Small victory.

A bubbly redhead came up to them. “Good morning. My name is Ms. Clarkson We are here for a school tour for Little Miss Soleil Bueckers, right?” She knelt, much like Azzi did the first time she met the girl. “Hello Soleil. I like how you’re matching with your mommy!” She smiled. “I have shoes just like yours too!”

Before Azzi could correct the woman, Soleil had muttered a quiet, “Thank you.” She’d pushed herself closer to Azzi, but she was proud of the girl for trying so hard.

Azzi felt her shoulders drop a little when the woman turns away from them to lead them deeper into the school.

The three of them walked to all areas Soleil would see during the school year. The cafeteria had fresh fruits and vegetables and a separate prep area for children with allergies. She would go to art and music classes twice a week, but she had PE every day. Science classes occurred on Tuesdays and Thursdays, while she would have Spanish on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.

They had chapel the first thing every morning. “As we are a Christian school, we provide instruction about the attributes of God and character of Christ. Every week, the children learn about a new virtue, and they talk about it every morning in chapel. They will have many opportunities to work on these virtues throughout the week, and the child with the most positive points in each class will be recognized at Friday chapel.”

Ms. Clarkson continued to add little facts here and there. Parents were always able to come have lunch whenever they wished. There were multiple security guards throughout campus. People couldn’t get into buildings or classrooms without being buzzed in or with a badge (Paige would love that). Soleil would have a buddy in second grade to help her adjust to any changes, and once she got to second grade, she would get her own little buddy.

Once they approached the two preschool classes, Ms. Clarkson spoke a little quieter, only to Azzi. “She seems a bit shy, but if she would like, she could sit in Mrs. Russell’s class. That’s the class she would be in you decided to send her here. It shouldn’t be too overwhelming; our classes are very small. There would only be five other students in there with Soleil.”

Azzi nodded and thanked the woman, guiding Soleil a few feet away. “How you feeling, sweetheart?”

Soleil shrugged a bit, “It’s pweety. But want you to be my teachew.”

Azzi’s heart clenched, like it always did when Soleil said something sweet. “Well do you wanna see how the other teacher is? It doesn’t mean you have to stay with her. Just trying it out, okay?” Soleil nodded. “If you don’t want to, you don’t need to. We can go get lunch and go home right now.”

She tugged at the hem of her romper, shuffling her feet nervously. “I twy. But I can come back?”

Azzi touched her forehead to the girl’s. “You can come back whenever.”

With a nod, Soleil let herself be guided into the classroom. Azzi stood back and watched Soleil introduce herself to the group.

She slowly and silently backed out of the room to finish the tour with Ms. Clarkson.

“So, do you have any questions for me?” Ms. Clarkson beamed.

Azzi inhaled deeply. “Soleil was just pulled out of St. Paul’s because of their views on our family. She was getting bullied about it, and we’re not putting up with that again. How do we make sure that doesn’t happen?”

Ms. Clarkson’s brows pinched together. “I’m so sorry she had to go through that. At Four Oaks, we have a zero-tolerance policy for bullying, for any reason. We also teach the children that we must be accepting of all people, no matter their background, religion, race, wealth. We pride ourselves on creating close classroom communities where children wouldn’t even think of picking on others.”

Azzi nodded, finally able to breathe a little easier. She let Ms. Clarkson go through the student handbook and list the extracurriculars and parent nights they offered. She noted all of them, making sure to listen more intently on things Soleil would like. She wanted to make sure she could give a comprehensive report to Paige.

She watched Soleil through the window. After a few minutes, Soleil had come out of her shell a bit, raising her hand to give input about the story Mrs. Russell was reading. Once the story was over, she sat next to a darker skinned girl. She shared her crayons and paper with Soleil.

Azzi snapped a picture of a bright smile and sent it to Paige immediately.

Azzi: maybe got a winner? 🤩🤩 sunny girl loves it!

Paige Bueckers: She’s shining already. Thank you so much, Azzi.

When 1:00 rolls around, Mrs. Russell’s class moves into silent reading time, and it’s time for Soleil to go.

Completely gone is the shy girl from an hour ago. “Mrs. Wussell’s woom smells like candy! Did you see my new fwiend? Hew name is Mia!” She reached her arms up, and once Azzi had Soleil perched on her hip, the girl went on her tangent.

Ms. Clarkson walked them back to the front office, and Azzi took advantage of the deep breath Soleil paused to take and turned towards the redhead. “Thank you so much for the tour; she loved it. I’ll talk to Paige, and she should be getting back to you all this evening.”

Azzi walked to the car with Soleil on one arm and the student handbook, tuition paperwork, and enrollment packet in the other.

The sun was bright in their eyes, and Azzi knew Soleil’s future at Four Oaks could be just as bright.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Their day had been perfect. They had a perfectly delicious breakfast at the park. They had found the perfect school for Soleil (even though she said she still wanted Azzi to be her teacher). They had picked up pho from Azzi’s favorite Vietnamese restaurant. They were heading home to watch Frozen and pig out on the delicious soup.

Nothing can stay perfect for long though.

Downtown Chicago was always busy. People always knocking into each other without a second glance. For this reason, Azzi held Soleil close to her chest, having the little girl wrap her arms around Azzi’s neck before they got out of the car. Morgan had pulled as close as possible to Aurelia’s doors. She’d offered to carry the food up to the penthouse, since Azzi’s arms were full of Soleil.

Azzi was it three steps from the car before she saw him.

When she’d looked out of the car window and caught the first glance of the slicked back blond hair, her breath hitched a bit.

But she talked herself down. There was no way anyone had already found out she’d moved to Aurelia. And in a flash, the hair had disappeared. She was just anxious and wound up because of all of the people.

She exhaled deeply. Morgan came around to open the door for Azzi and Soleil.

Adjusting her grip on the girl, she slid out of the Range Rover smoothly.

With the first step, she felt a heated gaze on her. Not like the one from Paige this morning, the kind that made her warm inside. No. This gaze made her spine go straight.

With the second step, her eyes darted around. Eager to find who was staring at her and making all the hair on her arms stand up. So focused she didn’t hear Morgan calling her name.

The third steps she took had her locking eyes with him.

He found her.

Grant found her.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Paige had a spending problem. Not all the time, but when she decided to spend money, she went big every time.

She wasn’t impulsive. She was comparing cars, seeing which one she should get next. She’d narrowed it down to the Aston Martin DBX707 and the Porsche 911 Turbo S. They could both fit Lei’s car seat in the back. There were both performance cars, and the cost for each was well over 100,000. But Paige had just signed her biggest client of the year; she deserved a treat.

Before she could compare the engines, her phone rang. MoChellie.

Paige’s heart stopped for a second. What the fuck happened for Morgan to be calling her?

She took a deep breath, answering the call.

But before she could say anything, she could hear whimpering in the background. Soleil.

“Morgan wha –”

The chauffeur cut her off frantically. “I need you to get here. Like now.” She rushed out. “I don’t even know what happened. I was dropping them off, and we got out, and Azzi just starts looking around like crazy. Holding on to Soleil real tight. She looked scared. And I thought it was just a lot of people or something. But then she got real stiff, and I couldn’t even ask her nothing before she was back in the car with Soleil.”

Paige was already up and on the elevator to the lobby before Morgan had started the second sentence. “Where are you now, Mo?”

“I haven’t moved! Azzi still has Soleil in her lap, and I don’t wanna drive if she’s not in her seat.”

“Alright, I’m on the way. Stay on the phone and let me know if anything changes. Try to get her to calm down, okay?”

Paige made it to Aurelia in record time. Spotting the car the girls are in, she turned off her McLaren with the push of a button, rushing to the SUV.

She probably shouldn’t have knocked on the window. She could tell that she’d startled Azzi. The brunette’s eyes were wide, wild, and wet.

Paige yanked open the door roughly and pulled Azzi and Soleil out of the car. She didn’t let Azzi say anything, just pulled the two of them into her body and moved them into the lobby.

She knew the three of them were getting strange looks from people in the lobby, but she didn’t care. She just needed to get Azzi and Soleil somewhere safe, so she could figure out whatever the fuck was going on.

As soon as the elevator doors shut, Paige let out a deep breath.

“I think she saw someone in the crowd.” Paige jumped, forgetting Morgan was following her. “I think that’s what freaked her out.”

Paige nodded, “Thanks for getting them back to the car Morgan.” Her eyes drop to the bag of food. “You can keep that, and I’ll DoorDash something. You’re off the rest of the week.”

“Thanks P,” Morgan says as the elevator dings. “I’ll see you later. Let me know if y’all need anything.”

Paige walked them off the elevator, giving Morgan a head nod before the doors closed again.

After guiding Azzi to sit on the couch, Paige went to take Soleil from her arms.

“No.” Azzi’s arms tightened around the girl, voice sharp.

“Hey, hey, Az. It’s me. It’s just Paige.” Her hand came up to cup her tanned cheek.

Big brown eyes fluttered, head shaking a bit. Azzi’s eyes met Paige’s, and her arms fell limply to her side. “I – I – I’m so sorry, Paige. I just – I didn’t know. And he just – I don’t –” Tears filled her eyes again as she tried to explain.

“It’s okay, Azzi. I’m gonna put Lei down. I’ll be right back. Don’t move.” Paige said softly.

Paige was unsure how Soleil was able to fall asleep with all of the commotion, and thought maybe it wasn’t as bad as it seemed.

Azzi was in the exact same spot, still like a statue.

“Can you tell me what happened, Azzi?” Paige sat next to her.

“He found me. My ex – Grant – he found me, and he was waiting outside. I thought he was gonna get Soleil. Didn’t want her to get hurt. I’m sorry, I just wanted her to be safe.” A whimper escaped, and Azzi shot up, turning to the elevator. “I have to go.”

At this, Paige stood quickly. “Wait, wait, wait.” She said reaching for Azzi, hands dropping when Azzi flinched. “Azzi, you don’t need to go anywhere.”

“But he found me. He’s gonna be pissed. I don’t want you to get hurt.” Tears were falling down her face fast now.

Paige raised her hands and moved towards Azzi slowly, “Did he hit you, Azzi?”

Another flinch and whimper. “Only once. I left that night.”

The blonde pulled her into a tight hug, her body tense with rage. She took a deep breath, noting the man’s name. She’d have Ash look into him. “That’s good Azzi. You got away from him, and you don’t have to go back.”

Pagie tugged her closer. One hand on her waist, one hand on the back of her neck. Azzi melted into Paige’s embrace. Then, sobs racked her body.

“It’s okay, Azzi. Everything’s gonna be fine.”

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

A/N: I had to end it here, or this would’ve been a 6k word chapter! I’m hoping to be able to post the next chapter by tonight! Go Wings!! xx Elle

[deathbxnny]

Hoping Tumblr doesn’t swallow my ask… may I request some headcanons of Capitano and Baizhu x Acheron!Reader please.

Sorry for taking 5 eons to post this and thank you again for another interesting request!<33

Content: Memory loss, slight angst?, fluff, established romantic relationships, sfw

Reader has no mentioned pronouns.

((Not proofread))

》CAPITANO

You two met during one of his missions in Natlan. Having once again forgotten where you were going and what the purpose of your initial reason to being here was, you failed to explain to Capitano's soldiers why exactly you had wandered into their camp. After a fight that ended with you being victorious, the calmly observing Harbinger took you in wordlessly which kick-started your relationship.

The memory loss wasn't an issue or a burden to him, his patience never ending when it came to you. He'll remember anything you need for you. Once he realizes that you keep things in mind easier by relating emotions to them, he tries his best to do just that with things that he deems as important.

Capitano sometimes worries about your safety, not because he thinks that you aren't strong enough to take care of yourself. It's just that your condition definitely doesn't make things easier for you, so expect someone to be with you at all times, whether you're aware with it or not.

He never pries into your past and never do you in his. Mainly because you don't remember yours, which makes you quite the mystery at times, but he isn't any better.

Finds it a little cute that you enjoy eating peaches, and gets you a huge supply of them just to see the faintest smile on your lips.

》BAIZHU

When you were dragged into his Pharmacy by Qiqi, he was definitely quite confused by your presence. Not only did you seem foreign to the nation, but you genuinely couldn't remember a thing. Why were you in Liyue? You couldn't tell him. Who exactly were you? No clue. What was your name again? Took you a moment, but at least you somewhat remembered that!

Either way, you were taken in by him that day, as he thought that you may have just hit your head somehow... but that turned out to be a permanent stay a while later after all. At least Qiqi now had a friend who was just exactly like her in many ways... which brought it's own problems.

He tried to treat your memory loss the way he treated Qiqi's, by giving you a little notebook with important information to keep on you at all times. Also a map to lead you back home during errand runs. You and the zombie girl weren't allowed to go on little missions together though, as that never ended well.

You and Qiqi always had a supply of coco goat milk and peaches to keep you entertained and satisfied whilst the man worked during the day.

Baizhu hopes to cure you both of your conditions well enough one day, so that you can live on without him when he isn't around anymore.

[autistic-writer-angel]

Happiest Moment of My Life

"Angel! Good! You're here!" Sandra, the social worker, greeted me. "I think I may have found some relatives to take you in."

My racing heart sank.

"But first, I just have one question to ask you."

She dug into her briefcase and pulled out some official-looking forms.

"What is it?" I wondered, hardly daring to breathe.

The Octonauts all looked up and beamed at me.

Sandra's smile grew wider. "Do you consent to being adopted by Captain Barnacles Bear?"

I was speechless.

"You've put in a very good word for him", Sandra informed me. "You've convinced me. This may be a little unorthodox, but I have no doubt that this will be a good home- and a good family- for you."

I looked over at the Captain.

"We would love to have you, Angel. You're always welcome here. I've always loved you like a daughter and nothing would make me happier than to officially make you part of the family. You won't ever have to worry about being taken away from us again."

I couldn't speak. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. So, I did both. Captain Barnacles raced to give me a hug. Pretty soon, I was surrounded by every Octonaut and Vegimal in a group hug.

Sometimes, I'd wonder if the Octonauts genuinely cared about me. In that moment, I knew that I would never have to wonder again.

"Careful, everyone!" Peso cautioned, despite joining the hug himself. "Angel's still recovering from surgery!"

Reluctantly, everyone pulled away.

Sandra cleared her throat. "Angel?" she began gently. "I know you're very emotional- and I think I know the answer- but I do need you to say something, just to make it official. Do you consent to being adopted by Captain Barnacles Bear?"

I sniffed loudly. "Yes! Yes! A thousand times yes!" And I gave him another small hug.

So, she slid over the forms for the Captain to sign.

"Are you going to change your last name, Angel?" Sandra wanted to know. "Or do you want to stay Angel Bingham?"

"Yeah, are you gonna be Angel Bear now?" Kwazii wondered, but I think he was joking.

With tears still in my eyes, I glanced over at the Captain to see what he thought.

"It's your name", he reminded me. "You have to live with it."

I grinned. Even though I had given it all of two seconds of thought, I knew the answer to that.

"How about Angel Bingham-Bear?"

The Captain blinked, clearly not expecting me to say that. "Really?"

"Really." If I were going to officially be part of the Octonauts family, then I wanted to have a name that made it official. Although, of course, I will always be a Bingham too. After all, my human family may have been gone, but they were most definitely not forgotten. It felt right. Two families, two names.

For the second time in my life, I saw tears in the Captain's eyes. He gave me another big bear hug.

I was on pins and needles the entire time the Captain filled out the paperwork. Any second, I feared something would fall through. There would be some kind of problem with the paperwork or worse, Sandra would change her mind. To my relief and amazement, nothing like that happened. The worst thing that happened was Sandra's pen ran out of ink and she had to reach into her briefcase for another one.

Finally, though- finally!- after Sandra took the papers back and signed them, she stood up and shook the Captain's paw. (I should point out that by then, hers were the only dry eyes in the room.) "Congratulations, Captain! You now have the same rights as any natural parent."

I couldn't help it. A squeal of delight escaped from my lips. I had to refrain from jumping up and down with joy. I knew Peso wouldn't allow that after my surgery. I knew my body wouldn't allow it after my surgery.

Sandra laughed. "This won't be easy to explain to my supervisor", she commented.

Captain Barnacles chuckled. "I can imagine. Can we offer you a lift home?"

Sandra smiled and nodded. "Thank you. That's very kind of you."

"Oh, it's the least we can do", the Captain assured her as they walked towards the Octochute. "We certainly appreciate all of your help."

Before she could jump into the Octochute, I had to throw my arms around her. Normally, I need to know a person and be close and comfortable around them before I'm okay with touching them, but I was so happy, I decided to make an exception for Sandra.

"Thank you thank you thank you thank you!" I cried.

Sandra smiled. "It's my pleasure, Angel. You be happy now."

I think I can manage that, I thought.

"And all of you", she went on, surveying the room, "look after each other."

"We will", everyone in the room assured her. We always have and always will.

Once Sandra jumped into the Octochute and it was just me and the Octonauts, I let out another squeal of joy. There were so many ways I'd envisioned the social worker's inquisition going, but none of them ended in me staying on the Octopod. I kind of expected to wake up at any second and find out it was all just a dream.

Nope. The Octonauts surrounded me again, very carefully. The hug was very cautious, but it still felt good. This was real, all right.

When we broke apart, I punched the air (though, my body told me off for it immediately) and hollered, "I'm back, baby!"

Hang the tail feather on @autistic-writer-angel

What do you mean Angel disappeared?! Is this real or hypothetical? Do you want me to- well you probably don’t want a random character crossing gamma axis and joining the search but would you let me?! Was this a burning? Has she been shelved? Okay, wait. I’m using a lot of hyper specific terminology here that not even my own crew knows…

I assume that this is scripted since you’re talking about it openly, so I’m sure that this is isn’t a shelving (when a creator discontinues the story of one or more characters) and will leave this in your capable paws.

Is there a summary or a viewing point (written text, visual references, etc) you can provide to help me understand this?

As for why I’m so worried to the extent of initiating contact after just lurking for so long: I was around Angel’s age when I was shelved, just a couple years older I believe. So just now realising she’s gone missing is dredging up some bad memories alongside some upsetting visions of what’s coming up and I want to make sure she’s okay.

On account of the gamma axis, there’s five - now six - known axises of dimensional movement: X forth and back, Y up and down, Z left and right, Alpha future and past, Beta here and there (it’s something you’ll find in multifandom creators like my own where each fandom or so is given its own coordinates), and Gamma Yours and Mine. It’s where two creators’ worlds become aware of each other or at least one becomes aware of the other, as I’ve said however this appears to be scripted so I won’t do anything drastic, doing so can only complicate things further on both ends.

I debated adding a post with double meaning to this, but between everything I can’t think right, between everything I doubt much will come from Dashi finding this.

- Korinthia “Eden Nautabär” Polar-Bear

[devil-in-hiding]

:)

[lurkiestvoid]

like. It's gonna start with those 200+ planned executive orders tomorrow and it's going to be overwhelming from the jump, just like last time. And, like last time, it is not going to slow down for several years.

I really, really, really encourage everyone to take extra care of themselves this week. Pace yourselves. When it's too much, disconnect from your feeds and connect with yourself, your loved ones, your pets, and anything in your life that brings you comfort.

I absolutely cannot stress this enough: Take. Frequent. Breaks.

[sarcosmiiic]

idk who needs to hear this but our systems mumbo is very swag and chill so if yall ever need or want to ask him a question fucken feel free man

[deityofhearts]

have any of yall met a celebrity/famous person where the person in questions kinda sucks or isn’t very important so it’s never worth mentioning? I got to meet buddy cakeboss when I was a child because he was making a cake for an event that was happening where I lived at the time and I got to try one of his cakes and got my picture taken with him but it’s literally such a throwaway encounter especially cause he honestly sucks and so did his cake so it’s pointless to bring up because who am I impressing with this information??

[mango-shpango]

BRUH ANOTHER BANGER FROM TOMMY 😭😭

[malachitezmeyka]

Since I’m visiting back home I have stolen borrowed my sister’s switch to play Pokemon and animal crossing, and that, of course, got me thinking about if Pokemon existed in the avatar universe, which ones would my OCs have

(Up front, I don’t see either of them going into competitive championships, too much shit going on in their lives to even consider it. Oh, and also, my knowledge of Pokemon comes entirely from my sister infodumping, me watching the entire first season of the anime twice, getting a bit too invested in Hanamusa fanart and playing Y, Moon and Shield (never getting to the end of a single one rip) so keep that in mind)

For Midori I feel like she’d have the ones that she could naturally find in the backyard while doing gardening or other work – oddish and bellsprout and budew and the like. Maybe a sandshrew or caterpie or rattata. I’m completely obsessed with eeveelutions so if she had an eevee, it’d evolve into a sylveon bc of how much love Midori has to give. Starter-wise, if she had one despite not doing competitive battling, definitely a bulbasaur, but since she doesn’t use it for anything but help around the garden it probably wouldn’t ever evolve, though they’re both okay with that. And I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t shoehorn some angst in, so before the RL left for the South Pole, Ghazan gave Midori his camerupt for safe keeping, saying it would protect her in case she needed it. She hides the pokeball with it from Haya and only lets it out of she knows no one will see her, terrified Haya would do something to such a blatant reminder of her brother

Suiren’s a bit harder since she has enough to worry about without getting a bunch of animals involved, but theoretically, I’m thinking squirtle for a starter that she has managed to evolve into a wartortle but not further yet. Eeveelution wise vaporeon would be the obvious choice but with her cold nature I think she’d invest in an ice stone instead and get a glaceon. I like to imagine that while she was travelling for a mission one day she ran across an absol in the mountains and took it home despite knowing the rumours it was a bringer of disasters and a bad omen (she relates to it, but you couldn’t waterboard that out of her). Maybe she found a yanma in the swamp at some point and kept it once she found out how cool its evolution looks. Likewise, she found a phantump and, remembering how phantumps come to be, couldn’t bear the thought of leaving it (and, well, its evolution and how it controls trees through roots reminds her of the swamp). Back with the angst, she inherited her mom’s milotic (Ming-Hua was a kid when she found the ugliest fucking fish she’d ever seen in a swamp lake and snuck it food. It warmed up to her and eventually she stole a pokeball and caught it. Fast forward a few years and it suddenly became the most gorgeous pokemon in existence. Shit happens). She hides it too but once she learned how to navigate the swamp she takes it to that very lake.

Suiren leaves her pokemon with Midori when she goes on missions, not wanting to endanger them, and every time Midori is scared that those pokemon will end up being the last things she has left of her sister, just like the camerupt and milotic are the last things left of her parents

[rubbermalletrabbit]

They stole my fucking dragon can't have shit in this country

Rip miss malachy snatched by royal mail

[mokeonn]

Sorry about all the posts about people not educating themselves. It's a topic im deeply passionate about and have a hard time understanding the opposition on because I am a fundamentally curious person who went and practiced the research techniques I was taught so that I may research better.

Plus I have autism so "researching to understand the world around me better" comes with the territory.

[saturdaymournings]

Fuck EVERYONE who ever taught me to hate myself. I was never like this before and I never deserved to feel this way about myself. The hardest part of this is the fact that I know it’s just been instilled in me! I could have been different. Fuck, I was different! I was happy to just exist as myself. I didn’t care what other people thought. Now I’m just like you. Fuck you for taking that away from me

[okwonyo]

﹙ ✉️ ﹚ ── NIGHT AFFECTION. in which ⸝ 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌.

엔하이픈 ⠀ ੭୧ ⠀ fem!rea 1100 non-idol au fluff established relationship ˊᯅˋ pet-names skinship kissing ⠀， receuil . . .

분지 ܃ rewriting a old work because why not :0

reblogs ⠀ꢾ꣒ ⠀ feedbacks please

HEESEUNG

he is never ashamed to ask for the things that he want. whether it’s the remote when he is too lazy to get it himself or a compliment for something he has done; he always asks. 

he is not ashamed nor subtle about needing that good night kiss. and to emphasize on his point, he is not going to let you go to sleep until your lips connect with his.

he flops on top of you, his chest pressed against yours as well as his entire weight. “i can’t sleep,” he whines while you try to get him off of you. he bugs you, “i will die, kiss me.”

soon enough, he comes to find his position weirdly comfortable. he rearranges himself so he can hide his face in the crook of your neck, “i won’t get up until you kiss me,” he mumbles.

you laugh at the way his voice gets slowly quieter as be speaks, your boyfriend is already dozing off. he is already half asleep when you give him what he wants.

JAY

his reaction is quite funny. to him, it feels like his entire world crumbled in slow motion, right in front of his wide opened eyes. his goodnight kiss it is that important to him.

he doesn’t realize that he is staring at you. unintentionally, he is stuck in place without looking at anything but you, without even blinking once. he doesn’t realize that he is not laying down at the same time as you do, that is boring holes into your soul. 

realization only hits him a few seconds after you turn off the light. “babe,” he calls you hurriedly, tapping your form in fear that you would fall asleep without him receiving his act of affection.

you turn around, turning on the light in an almost panicking and downright confused. he smiles fondly, “didn’t you forget something, princess?”

seeing that you genuinely don’t know what is happening and that you are almost falling asleep, he kisses you himself.

JAKE

he is already tucked in bed, teeth freshly brushed, skin shining due to his nightly skin care routine and he feels comfortable here, enveloped like a tacos in the covers. 

it just feels too good, falling asleep after receiving a loving kiss from his beautiful girlfriend. he is so, so shocked when he realizes that you are not going to kiss him tonight. his eyes grow wide, his mouth falls agape. 

he mimics the look of a kicked pupil as he watches you get under the cover without even giving him a glance. 

he ponders, for a long moment, whether he should kiss you himself or just let it go. he is stays silent in hopes that his mind will successfully telepathically share his thoughts with you. 

“doll,” he whisper, getting closer to your ear. “can you give me a kiss, please?”

SUNGHOON

the lack of his before-sleep loving affection would leave him all sour faced. he wouldn’t hide it either, he is annoyed and kiss deprived.

you catches his face while you are getting ready to close your eyes. but his eyes digging holes in your skin makes you laugh out loud. he looks like an angry cat. 

you beat his chest playfully and with the softest giggle he has ever heard, and which makes his face arbor a more tender expression, “what’s wrong with you?”

shyness overtakes him when you laugh like that, he ends up avoiding your eyes as he fidgets with the covers. you study him for a moment until you realize what you’ve forgotten.

his cheeks are tainted with pink when you hold his chin between your index finger and your thumb. he leans in, closing his eyes and sigh when you kiss him.

SUNOO

he is bothered by it. to an extent that is a tad bit laughable. he finds himself utterly offended, downright shocked— he doesn’t have the time to be subtle about it. at all. 

this is how you are supposed to say goodnight. when it’s time to drowse, a kiss is needed. even when you are apart, the kissy face emoji or a flying kiss behind your phone’s camera is necessary. 

in all honesty, you are confused about his change of demeanor, given the fact that he was all smiley a few minutes prior. you find him with a small pout weighing on his pretty lips and don’t hear the things that he is grumbling under his breath. 

there is no way that is falling asleep without what he wants. and he is in disbelief when he realize that you forgot. and instead of reminding you, he just huffs as he lays down with his back facing you. 

he really does try to act like he doesn’t care, but after a dozen seconds in the dark, he trunks around and whisper, “hey, aren’t you forgetting something?” 

JUNGWON

he could tell you. he tap your shoulder sweetly, watch you turn around as you wait for him to talk and tells you that you forgot his before-bedtime smooch, but he doesn’t. 

of course, he takes it as an invitation to play with your mind a little, to make you curious, to make you wonder under his pleased gaze. 

a bit before you turn off the light, he speaks: “you forgot,” with the context swallowed in his throat. it rings your curiosity instantly, and you don’t want to sleep anymore. 

“jungwon,” he scoots closer to your circle of warmth. in the silence, he wraps his arms around you in the act of a loving embrace. “jungwon, what did i forget?” 

he laughs when you push him away slightly to get his attention. in lieu of an answer, he decides to get his kiss on his own. 

RIKI

he watches your every move. he follows you everywhere in the house, from the living room to the bathroom, to the bathroom to the bedroom. it is as if he is your shadow. 

you want to laugh every time you turn your gaze to his direction, seeing how impatient he is for that goodnight kiss. he looks like he has never been kissed before.

his world crumble under his feet when you decide to withhold the kiss and purposely ignore his presence. a frown draws itself on his mouth as well as on his eyebrows. 

silent treatment is what he gives you as a form of revenge. but he wants to kiss you really bad, you know. perhaps, his little vengeance doesn’t last very long because he jump when he hears he words, “i’ll find something else to kiss then!” coming out of your mouth. 

he attacks you with wet kisses all over your face as a gentle punishment. 

taglist open

[hyperlexichypatia]

As I keep shouting into the void, pathologizers love shifting discussion about material conditions into discussion about emotional states.

I rant approximately once a week about how the brain maturity myth transmuted “Young adults are too poor to move out of their parents’ homes or have children of their own” into “Young adults are too emotionally and neurologically immature to move out of their parents’ homes or have children of their own.”

I’ve also talked about the misuse of “enabling” and “trauma” and “dopamine” .

And this is a pattern – people coin terms and concepts to describe material problems, and pathologization culture shifts them to be about problems in the brain or psyche of the person experiencing them. Now we’re talking about neurochemicals, frontal lobes, and self-esteem instead of talking about wages, wealth distribution, and civil rights. Now we can say that poor, oppressed, and exploited people are suffering from a neurological/emotional defect that makes them not know what’s best for themselves, so they don’t need or deserve rights or money.

Here are some terms that have been so horribly misused by mental health culture that we’ve almost entirely forgotten that they were originally materialist critiques.

Codependency What it originally referred to: A non-addicted person being overly “helpful” to an addicted partner or relative, often out of financial desperation. For example: Making sure your alcoholic husband gets to work in the morning (even though he’s an adult who should be responsible for himself) because if he loses his job, you’ll lose your home. https://www.nytimes.com/2022/07/08/opinion/codependency-addiction-recovery.html What it’s been distorted into: Being “clingy,” being “too emotionally needy,” wanting things like affection and quality time from a partner. A way of pathologizing people, especially young women, for wanting things like love and commitment in a romantic relationship.

Compulsory Heterosexuality What it originally referred to: In the 1980 in essay "Compulsory Heterosexuality and Lesbian Existence," https://www.journals.uchicago.edu/doi/abs/10.1086/493756 Adrienne Rich described compulsory heterosexuality as a set of social conditions that coerce women into heterosexual relationships and prioritize those relationships over relationships between women (both romantic and platonic). She also defines “lesbian” much more broadly than current discourse does, encompassing a wide variety of romantic and platonic relationships between women. While she does suggest that women who identify as heterosexual might be doing so out of unquestioned social norms, this is not the primary point she’s making. What it’s been distorted into: The patronizing, biphobic idea that lesbians somehow falsely believe themselves to be attracted to men. Part of the overall “Women don’t really know what they want or what’s good for them” theme of contemporary discourse.

Emotional Labor What it originally referred to: The implicit or explicit requirement that workers (especially women workers, especially workers in female-dominated “pink collar” jobs, especially tipped workers) perform emotional intimacy with customers, coworkers, and bosses above and beyond the actual job being done. Having to smile, be “friendly,” flirt, give the impression of genuine caring, politely accept harassment, etc. https://weld.la.psu.edu/what-is-emotional-labor/ What it’s been distorted into: Everything under the sun. Everything from housework (which we already had a term for), to tolerating the existence of disabled people, to just caring about friends the way friends do. The original intent of the concept was “It’s unreasonable to expect your waitress to care about your problems, because she’s not really your friend,” not “It’s unreasonable to expect your actual friends to care about your problems unless you pay them, because that’s emotional labor,” and certainly not “Disabled people shouldn’t be allowed to be visibly disabled in public, because witnessing a disabled person is emotional labor.” Anything that causes a person emotional distress, even if that emotional distress is rooted in the distress-haver’s bigotry (Many nominally progressive people who would rightfully reject the bigoted logic of “Seeing gay or interracial couples upsets me, which is emotional labor, so they shouldn’t be allowed to exist in public” fully accept the bigoted logic of “Seeing disabled or poor people upsets me, which is emotional labor, so they shouldn’t be allowed to exist in public”).

Battered Wife Syndrome What it originally referred to: The all-encompassing trauma and fear of escalating violence experienced by people suffering ongoing domestic abuse, sometimes resulting in the abuse victim using necessary violence in self-defense. Because domestic abuse often escalates, often to murder, this fear is entirely rational and justified. This is the reasonable, justified belief that someone who beats you, stalks you, and threatens to kill you may actually kill you.

What it’s been distorted into: Like so many of these other items, the idea that women (in this case, women who are victims of domestic violence) don’t know what’s best for themselves. I debated including this one, because “syndrome” was a wrongful framing from the beginning – a justified and rational fear of escalating violence in a situation in which escalating violence is occurring is not a “syndrome.” But the original meaning at least partially acknowledged the material conditions of escalating violence.

I’m not saying the original meanings of these terms are ones I necessarily agree with – as a cognitive liberty absolutist, I’m unsurprisingly not that enamored of either second-wave feminism or 1970s addiction discourse. And as much as I dislike what “emotional labor” has become, I accept that “Women are unfairly expected to care about other people’s feelings more than men are” is a true statement.

What I am saying is that all of these terms originally, at least partly, took material conditions into account in their usage. Subsequent usage has entirely stripped the materialist critique and fully replaced it with emotional pathologization, specifically of women. Acknowledgement that women have their choices constrained by poverty, violence, and oppression has been replaced with the idea that women don’t know what’s best for themselves and need to be coercively “helped” for their own good. Acknowledgement that working-class women experience a gender-and-class-specific form of economic exploitation has been rebranded as yet another variation of “Disabled people are burdensome for wanting to exist.”

Over and over, materialist critiques are reframed as emotional or cognitive defects of marginalized people. The next time you hear a superficially sympathetic (but actually pathologizing) argument for “Marginalized people make bad choices because…” consider stopping and asking: “Wait, who are we to assume that this person’s choices are ‘bad’? And if they are, is there something about their material conditions that constrains their options or makes the ‘bad’ choice the best available option?”

[demonic0angel]

Twenty something year old Danny becomes a preschool teacher to a class of young meta and liminal kids, he helps to keep the kids calm when they discover their abilities and is genuinely one of the better teachers at the school. He's also a part-time member of the Justice League.

He's in the middle of a meeting when he gets a call from a freaked out substitute teacher saying one of the kids is stuck halfway through the wall and doesn't know what to do. Danny excuses himself and explains that one of his kids is having a small problem and he'll be right back and then leaves not realizing the chaos he left behind in his wake as the Justice League believe that Phantom has multiple kids and is a single father.

Phantom laughed nervously. “I need to pick this up real quick.” His phone continued to ring until Phantom had exited the meeting room.

However, he seemed to have forgotten to go far to avoid eavesdroppers or he was too worried to find somewhere else to pick up the call, because he only stopped behind the door to answer.

“What happened? Are they okay?” He said, sounding urgent. “Do I need to get there?”

“One of your kids is stuck!” Came a voice from the phone.

Everyone within the meeting room was leaning in, nosey as ever. Batman, who was presenting, was even tilting his entire body to the door, the only indication of his listening in.

The voice continued, “I’m so sorry, sir, I don’t know how to get them out! It’s causing a panic and no one can help me and all of the kids are crying for you!”

“How many are there? Are they all okay?”

The voice sniffled, clearly distressed and crying herself. “All ten of them are here. They’re all okay, it’s just that Etiel is stuck in the wall and no one can get him out. It’s freaking them all out.”

Phantom muttered, “Fiddlesticks. Okay, uhm. Try to calm them down, if you can. Can you find Cindy? She’s the most responsible, she’ll know what to do. And tell her that when I come back, I’ll make sure to reward her for her help. I’ll try to get there as fast as I can.”

Phantom then hung up the call after a few more words of encouragement and reassurance to the other person on the line. Then he hung up the call and came back into the room, looking apologetic. Everyone quickly pretended to be doing nothing.

Flash was holding seventeen new orders of fast food burgers, but Phantom was too distracted to notice.

“Is there something wrong?” Superman coughed awkwardly.

“Yes, I’m very sorry, but I have an emergency at home. Is it possible for me to get notes of the meeting later to review? I’m sorry— I know that this meeting had been planned for a while.”

Wonder Woman said, her voice very gentle, “Of course. We shall send you a review of the meeting in an email. Please, go home and rest assured. Take care of your little ones.”

Phantom blinked and then chuckled. “You heard that, huh? Thank you. I have to go now, so bye! Thanks again!” Without hesitation, he then flew off like a streak of light.

They were silent for a moment longer.

Then they all turned to Batman.

“Are you happy that you’re not alone in the club of single father with over 2 kids?”

“….. hn.”

Batman was determined to have more friends with kids and poor Phantom wasn’t going to know what hit him.

[marvelsswansong]

melting snow

summary: the subtle, obvious, sweet, and at times - dangerous - ways Coriolanus shows his love for you.

tags: coriolanus snow x fem!reader, possessive and lovesick!Snow, mostly fluff with light allusions to smut, significantly off-canon from movie (no lucy gray and no sejanus betrayal), CW possessive/dark behavior, graphic descriptions of murder, violence (it's only the last bit of this fic that's quite dark/violent, so feel free to read up until then. Please take care of yourself!!!)

☆ word count: 4.6K+ words ☆

⚠️ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞.⚠️

one: subtle praise

At the beginning, he would mask his true feelings and physical urges towards you with a tight lipped grin and a reserved compliment. Something that acknowledges something you've done objectively well, with a genuine softness that didn't apply to any of his other classmates, but seemingly delivered in a nonchalant matter to feign indifference.

"Great dodge." he'd say to you, both of your chests heaving from adrenaline during fencing class. You'd nod gently, a shy "thank you" leaving your lips.

But when Clemensia wins the next round against him, Coriolanus doesn't go above simply shake her left hand in courtesy before leaving the arena briskly.

"Well played." he'd joke, when it was revealed during the final student appraisal that you'd beaten Coriolanus' marks by a few points. Despite Archane and Felix throwing subtle jabs at his way for "losing" the star student title, you'd just shrug off the compliment profusely, praising him endlessly.

"A mere fluke, really. You're the brilliant student. I reckon I just study hard and get lucky." you'd reply, straightening the cuffs of your jacket nervously. The blonde always found it so endearing how bad you were at taking compliments.

So different from the rest of the scum in Capitol, he thought.

Eventually, he'd start to turn his verbal compliments towards things unrelated to your capabilities and work. And more towards things that were of a personal nature, like your looks and dress.

"Your hair looks very nice today." he comments one afternoon late after school, his shoulders brushing against yours as you both await your rides home. Your hands fly up to your hair, to the small crown of daisies adorning your head, as if you've almost forgotten what you were wearing.

"You think so?" you shyly ask, looking up at him nervously. "I wouldn't have worn it to the academy if we hadn't been called down on immediate notice. It's just that the family I babysit for on the weekends, their daughter just turned six and... well, she was very insistent on making me a flower crown."

He finds your embarrassment awfully cute.

"But I swear, when Dr Gaul turned to look at me today, I thought she was going to kill me."

Coriolanus only rolls his eyes playfully at that, knocking his shoulders against yours.

"And what would she know about first rate fashion? You look amazing."

It's the nicest compliment you've gotten over a silly crown of flowers, your heart warming and your breath stuttering at his words. It's what motivates you to lightly squeeze his right arm before you get into the car, your touch lingering in his mind long after you depart.

A month later, Coriolanus runs into you at the farmer's market on a Sunday. His instructions by Tigris to "buy some bread and oranges for tomorrow" are almost forgotten in one fell swoop when he sees you. Free from your usual academic attire, you're wearing a flowy lilac dress which sits right below your knees, the silky fabric glowing in the yellow sunlight.

"This color really suits you." he decides to whisper in your ear after discreetly sliding into the space next to you, the action so sudden that it causes you to jump. Your shoulders soften when you recognize his striking blue irises, and then you pout, punching him right in the chest.

"You scared me, Snow." you jokingly scold him. "And where are your manners? You should always introduce yourself first to a lady."

He pretends to be wounded by that, hand on heart whilst leaning backwards.

"My deepest apologies. Would this help?" he asks, effortlessly pulling a white rose from his back pocket. He revels in how your gaze lightens up in awe and amusement at the gesture.

"Perhaps so." you reply back, fingertips brushing against his.

The blonde takes it as a sign to slide it behind your ear, the memory of your etheral form with his flower tucked behind your right ear etched into his mind before you're called away by your friends.

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

two: soft touches

Once he's sure that his feelings are reciprocated, Coriolanus would start to step the line over into something more serious. He's not willing to open up immediately nor is he necessarily a man of romantic prose. A large part of him is scared, even, of the way you make him feel.

After all, what is love if not vulnerability?

And how he could be vulnerable with you, a woman so far out of his league, widely adored and your family amongst the wealthiest in Panem?

So it would start off when the class seating arrangements are changed and you're seated next to Coriolanus for the remainder of the year.

He'd start to purposefully spread his legs a little bit wider than usual, his knees always brushing against yours.

He'd take every chance he could to lean over to explain something to you, his face a few inches away from yours, if you ever seemed stuck on a question.

He'd open the classroom door for you in the mornings and offer to carry your heavy textbooks back to your family's car after school, insisting that it was because he wouldn't want you to trip on your heels. And if you'd ever insist on carrying the books on your own, he'd keep a gentle hand on your upper back to keep you upright "in balance."

Once, whilst presenting a speech at your father's fundraising dinner that you'd stayed up all night preparing for, you accidentally lose track of your speech. You stumble on your words, voice cracking in panic as you start to scan the page of thick text, all of which suddenly seem jumbled up and nonsensical.

Sensing distress, Coriolanus' hand quickly moves under the table to squeeze your left hand (hanging by your side) in a reassuring manner.

It's only then, somehow, that you find yourself able to re-focus on the printed text and continue your speech. Afterwards, you squeeze his hand back and whisper your gratitude.

"I owe you, Coriolanus."

Another time, it's a formal ball being hosted by the academy to mark the holiday season. After a few drinks, you're tipsy and manage to drag your friends up towards the balcony, despite it snowing outside and being below zero degrees.

Cautiously watching your every movement by where he's leaning by the bar, Coriolanus quickly makes an excuse to exit the conversation he found himself trapped in, before walking outside towards your shivering figure.

Your dress certainly isn't helping your situation, it being a satin slip dress with sleeves and a conservative cut out by your shoulders. It exposes your chilled skin as you rub the naked space with your arms, your staggered breaths coming out in white puffs of smoke.

"Corio! What're you doing he-" you start to walk towards him but nearly trip, his arms coming to supporting your body last second to save you from falling completely on your face.

"You shouldn't be outside in this weather." he comments, amused, as he helps you find your balance once more. But you refuse to re-enter the ballroom, choosing to instead excitedly ramble about how wonderful winter in the Capitol is and how you can't remember where you've placed your bag.

Listening earnestly to your ramblings with a smile on his face, he quickly shakes off his blazer.

"May I?" he asks. You blink slowly, heart fluttering at the gesture.

"O-okay."

The boy then carefully drapes his blazer over your shoulders, the act immediately enveloping your senses in his signature smells - oakwood and rose. Your fingers clutch the lapels of the jacket, your nose burrowing in to the softness of the fabric.

"Are you sure you won't be cold?"

He's freezing, of course, but he keeps his posture straight and tuck his hands into his pockets.

"I'm just fine. Don't you worry about me."

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

three: nicknames

Once you two become an item, Coriolanus moves on to calling you affectionate names.

Of course, he'll prefer to call you by your name in professional settings - like during a presentation, in front of the Academy staff, at formal galas and dinners - but when it's just the two of you, or around people you both trust, or when he's jealous -

He almost never calls you by your name.

Darling is the classic, lovestruck expression he uses when he's being his most vulnerable. It's what he whispers into the gap underneath your neck when he's waking you up in the morning, landing kisses across your collarbone during sunrise. It's his greeting when he surprises you with a bouquet of flowers on your birthday, right before he whisks you away to a trip to district 1. It's what he cries into your hairline when you are hospitalized following a rogue rebel explosion on your trip home.

"Darling... darling, can you hear me?"

Coriolanus' voice is foggy, your head still ringing from the loud explosion earlier, but your heart still races at the sound of his voice and the touch of his hand on yours. Throat croaking, you try to respond with an affirmative "yes", to which your boyfriend responds by quickly grabbing a near by cup of water.

Gently guiding the glass to your lips, he treats you as if you're a fragile porcelain doll: smoothing down your hair gently and fluffing up your pillows to lay you back down. It's only then that you get a good look at him under the flickering lights - the bags under his eyes look heavy, his usually neat hair a complete mess, his blue irises blood shot.

"Have you been sleeping, Corio?" you ask, worried, your thumb rubbing circles onto his palm. He chokes up at that, shaking his head sideways with a sad smile.

"How... how could you ask me that, darling? You've been in the hospital for days."

"I hope that doesn't mean you haven't been sleeping for days." you quip back, raising your eyebrows. Your boyfriend opens his mouth to lie, but the twitch of his lips gives him away. So you instead shift towards the left of your bed, making space for him on the mattress.

"Come on you silly man."

He smiles a guilty grin before snuggling up next to you, letting out a heavy sigh of content at your warm body against his.

Petal is his sweet, infatuated name for you when he's referring to you in conversation or calling out for you in front of friends and family. Tigris never fails to tease Coriolanus for the name, but he doesn't mind it - you're his flower, his precious petal.

"I can't believe you think this is ugly." Tigris sighs at the dinner table one night, shuffling through the myriad of designs on the desk. "This was going to be the design I send off to the boutique tomorrow."

"I didn't say it was ugly, I just think this design is far nicer." Coriolanus responds, pushing forward the blue design in front of him. His cousin pouts at that, clearly unsatisfied with his answer.

"Petal-" Coriolanus calls out for you, where you're cooking with grandma'am in the kitchen. "Could you come in for a moment?"

When your confused face pops into the room, Tigris quickly calls you over, dramatically stretching out her arms to grab you.

"Mr Snow seems to think this design - the gold sweetheart dress with lace trimmings - is uglier than this blue version. What do you think, (Y/n)?" she earnestly asks, pushing over the two designs to your direction. You shuffle through the papers intently, studying each drawing up close, before ultimately taking Tigris' side.

"I'd say your eye for design is impeccable, Tigris. And that Coriolanus should perhaps stick to things other than fashion."

That makes both grandma'am (who is listening in from the kitchen) and Tigris, burst out in laughter, with the latter throwing her arms around your waist in a sideways hug.

"Ah, I knew you were my favorite for a reason." she jokes.

"Petal, you wound me." your boyfriend jokes, a small scowl on his face for show. Though, when you lean down to kiss him, the scowl easily melts away.

My doll is what he calls you when he's driven sick by jealousy and possession. As, much to Coriolanus' distate, you have many admirers - due to you coming from a wealthy family and being a well known socialite in your own right.

Coriolanus has never liked Felix Ravinstill, but he swears his hatred for the president's son only tripled after you and Coriolanus became an item. Felix was never shy about his attraction to you - the forward compliments, the invitations to his house after school, the rush to sit next to you during lunch periods. But now, the blonde thinks, it's getting full on desperate.

As you sit reading a book in the hallways of tha academy, waiting for Coriolanus to finish his talk with Dr Gaul, the dark haired boy decides to chat with you. When your boyfriend opens the door discreetly, upon hearing your voice mingle with someone else's outside, his vision nearly turns red at how close the other man is to you.

You're pointing out something in your book to Felix, your innocent eyes fixated purely on the black and white text and thus completely missing how shamelessly the man next to you is eyeing you up and down. It takes Dr Gaul's shout - "actually, Ms (Y/n), could we have a word regarding your last proposal" - for Coriolanus' rage to slowly fade.

Instead, he starts to feel cold, hardened logic putting a plan into motion.

And once you're inside the classroom, Coriolanus doesn't hesitate to slam Felix up against the wall, making sure to angle the boy's head to hit directly against a marble statute. The impact isn't hard enough to crack the man's skull, the last minute measurement in Coriolanus' head ensuring that he wouldn't be punished for injuring the president's son.

But he makes sure that the impact hurts enough to leave a mark.

It makes Coriolanus' heart twist in pleasure.

"You better leave my doll alone, Ravinstill. She's not interested in you. She's never been interested in you." he spits, snarling like a ravenous dog.

"You're delusional, Snow, if you think she'd ever want to stay with you." Felix manages to spit out, trying to wiggle his way out of the taller man's hold, but Coriolanus is too strong.

"You're the only delusional one here. It's pathetic, really. All that money and social connections in the world, and it'll never be good enough for my doll."

Coriolanus can tell that hit a nerve with Felix, so he lets go of the shorter boy, nearly throwing him away to the side in the process. Pride and ego surges through his veins when you appear and call out for Coriolanus, so the blonde makes a concerted effort to kiss you fiercely for show.

His arm snaking around your shoulder to pull you right up against him, a devious smile on his lips.

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

four: lavish gifts and deep marks

Things only escalate once Coriolanus' tribute ends up winning the hunger games and he's crowned the winner of the Plinth Prize. Now saddled with money, reputation and a full ride scholarship to the university funneled by the Plinth family - he finally finds himself able to spoil you in all the ways possible.

Fresh flowers adorn your windowsill every morning. The finest jewellery and newest luxury bags are delivered to your doorstep at random. Perhaps most impressive of all, he buys a two bedroom apartment near the center of the Capitol for you two to move into.

"How'd you..." you can't even finish your sentence when you first see the place: the prime location, the high arched ceilings, the stainless marble... He hadn't even allowed you to pitch in any of your own - or your family's - money to buy the place, insisting that it was to be a complete surprise.

His arms come around your shoulder to hug you close, swaying you from side to side.

"Generosity of the Plinth family and the spoils of being the victor, darling." he drawls in your ear.

You're still in awe, hands tracing the intricate patterns of the roman columns supporting the ceiling, when he starts to tug you up the stairs.

"Would you like to see the view from our bedroom? It's magnificent."

Of course, Coriolanus' new elevated status and recent memory of acting as a mentor in the hunger games - planning, guiding, and having a role in the extended play of human lives - it all makes him quite obsessive and possessive of you. Given that you're one of the few people in his life who has known him for years now, before he was a mentor and before had all this money and status...

He has to make sure to keep you in his life. He's made a lot of enemies, after all, many of whom would like to harm him. And with his undying love for you, hurting you becomes an attractive option for his enemies.

So Coriolanus gets more possessive by becoming more shameless in public. He'll gladly call you his love in front of crowds of hundreds. He'll kiss you breathless and squeeze your lower back if he thinks a man is staring a bit too long at you. And when he knows you two will be separated for a few days - usually due to him having to travel out of the Capitol on business matters - he'll leave bite marks on your neck.

You didn't even think about how noticeable the marks might be when you rush out of bed one morning, having promised to attend an engagement dinner of a fellow classmate, Clemensia's. Your rude awakening comes when, mid-way through the rehearsal, Sejanus leans over to quietly ask if you've brought your foundation with you.

You scrunch your face at the odd question.

"Uh, yes... I have a powder compact in my bag, why?"

Your friend smiles at you apologetically, before motioning to your neck.

"Because, (Y/n), it looks like a vampire has bit you."

And when you look at your reflection in your wine glass, it's clear that you have odd, dark, bite shaped marks littering your collarbone and neck.

Later in the week, when Coriolanus has finally returned from his business trip, you try and scold him for it.

"I nearly died of shame, Corio. Seriously, you should've seen how Arachne was looking at me the whole night." you sigh, just as he laughs.

"You're over thinking it, darling. Besides, you weren't complaining when I was leaving those marks on you on Tuesday."

You open his mouth to scold him again, but find yourself unable to mutter a smart response, your thoughts flying away when he's back to attacking your skin with his mouth.

After all, you're like a drug to him - he can never get enough.

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

five: killing for you

Once Coriolanus is sure that you're not going to leave him, he finds it appropriate to take it to the next level: marriage. He drops a few thousand dollars on a large diamond ring, a ring which he makes sure you never take off (except in the shower).

At this point, the thought of losing you nearly equals his fears of losing everything he's built so far: becoming wealthy, powerful and well known amongst the Capitol's elite. He's terrified of living in a world without you and so he considers anyone who is deemed a threat must be dealt with in a secure, efficient manner.

No mercy, no hesitation.

After all, Coriolanus thinks one night, whilst sharpening a spare knife in the kitchen: if you give a rebel an inch, they'll run a mile.

The first person he kills is a security guard who fails to do their job correctly in protecting you.

He'd been hired by Coriolanus to protect you in your daily transport from the mansion to anywhere outside the Capitol (most often, to districts 1-3 to support your family's business dealings). But the bodyguard had failed to protect you one fateful winter day, leaving you to stumble back home with a twisted ankle and a busted lip as your bodyguard was only able to neutralize the threat after a few minutes of tussling with the gang's leader in the snow.

Your fiancee was fuming, sending you off to a near by hospital with grandma'am, before he motioned for your bodyguard to come downstairs to the empty garden.

The blonde didn't even feel an ounce of sorrow as he pulled the trigger, simply ordering the next bodyguard he'd hired to do the messy job of disposing of the body.

The second person he kills is a rebel who attempted to sneak a bomb underneath the car transporting you to the Capitol, following Coriolanus' announcement as candidate for the presidency.

The rebel was apprehended by the security detail team pretty quickly, so fast in fact that you weren't even made aware of the threat on your life. All you're told that day by Coriolanus' subordinates is that "there had been a change of plans" and you were to go to a fundraising dinner at an art museum instead to raise funds for the campaign.

And whilst you're off at the dinner, making a passionate speech for his presidency, Coriolanus makes an order for the rebel to be dragged out into the fields.

"You dare threaten the love of my life?" he sneers into the rebel's face, which is already bloodied and broken beyond recognition. The animalistic rage pumping through Coriolanus' veins is unlike anything he's ever felt before, and the gun in his hands suddenly feels like too much of a merciful ending for the rebel's crime.

"Just kill me." the rebel spits, but that only makes Coriolanus let out a sinister chuckle.

"Don't worry, I will. But I think a gun shot will be far too quick."

Instead, Coriolanus orders the man to be placed into a cage - a prototype that was being designed as a trap for the next year's games - and for a tub of venomous snakes to be released.

Whilst the other workers in his campaign look away from the horrific sight, Coriolanus just stares in great interest and pride. Once the screaming dies down, he calmly disposes of his bloodied shirt and hails a ride to greet you at the museum entrance.

"All good?" you ask, noticing an odd expression on your lover's face. But he just kisses you lightly on the lips, chuckling.

"Of course, petal. Why wouldn't it be?"

And so on and so forth. Whether it's directly or indirectly, Coriolanus becomes ruthless in securing your safety and your love. And he's so good at hiding it, he thinks, until one day he becomes a bit sloppy.

It was supposed to be an easygoing dinner at the mansion, a wealthy donor - his top donor, his campaign manager had informed him - named Robert Hemingworth had requested a private dinner. Coriolanus intially wanted to refuse, hating the thought of inviting a stranger to his home, but both you and his campaign manager agreed that it was best to play nice given the money at stake.

"For your troubles." Robert had said on his way in, a snarky smirk on his lips. In his arms were a basket of wines and grapes worth a pretty penny, but Coriolanus couldn't help but think that there was something about the brunette's gaze that he didn't trust. But with pursed lips and a fake smile, he forced out a thank you and invited the man into the foyer.

"What a... charming little abode." the oil tycoon had drawled, his gloved hands tracing along the walls. The sly comments and odd compliments (in truth, backhanded compliments) continued through out the night, all the way from appetizer to the main course. Sipping on copious bottles of red wine in an effort to keep himself grounded, Coriolanus was managing to keep his temper down until the older man asked about your whereabouts.

"Will your charming fiancee not be joining us?"

He froze at the man's questions, the hungry look in the millionaire's eyes and the underlying threat weighing down the atmosphere. The desserts had now arrived, two maids scurrying in with small plates of bread pudding, both of whom Coriolanus quickly dismissed with a wave of his hand.

"She's out with Tigris. Dress shopping." he'd decided to leave it at that, his left hand squeezing his glass so tight the glass started to crack. Coriolanus had hoped the man would leave the discussion there, as he wasn't sure what he was capable of doing if the older man didn't.

But the man continued. A disgusting moan escaping his lips in satisfaction after biting into the pudding, a devious smirk on his lips to match.

"Ah. Well, what a shame. I was hoping she would be part of the dessert."

No sooner than those words leave the millionaire's mouth, Coriolanus' left hand grabbed the knife laying on the board in front of him, where moments ago the maids were cutting cheese and ham. He then brings the blade to swiftly meet the older man's stomach, white dress shirt staining crimson red, all the while Coriolanus refuses to break the man's gaze.

"You fucking disgust me. Everyone in the Capitol fucking disgusts me one way or another, but you? You dare invite yourself to my home?" he retracts the knife, before stabbing it back into the suited man's flesh, each pause accentuated by another driving force.

"You dare speak about my love in such a vulgar manner?"

"You dare insinuate such sinful acts with my beloved?"

"You dare try and buy your way into her body?"

The marble floors are now flooded in a sea of red, the man's dying chokes and Coriolanus' heavy breaths overwhelming the room. The room stings of the smell of copper when you enter the space, quietly closing the door behind you, as you were only able to see the man on the floor and your boyfriend standing on top of him from the entrance.

"Corio? Love?"

The blonde turns around at the sound of your voice, face etched with annoyance.

Annoyed that you'd have to be subject to a vulgar sight like this. Annoyed that he'd stained your new kitchen set with an unworthy man's blood... And most of all, annoyed that he can't tell what you're thinking: your face kept completely neutral as you slowly approach him.

"You're back early." is all he decides to say, testing the waters.

You look down at his hands, soaked in hot blood, then down at the man who is writhing on the floor.

"Found what we wanted quickly, I suppose." you reply, stopping next to Coirolanus before leaning down to get a better look at the dying man. "Right, what was his deal?"

"Hm?"

It's only then that your plain expression breaks, your usually light eyes swimming with sinister charm, a coy smile breaking out on your face.

"Come on, Corio. You don't seriously think I didn't notice the amount of odd stains on your cufflinks? Or the terrified looks the house servants give you since the beginning of our engagement?"

He blinks, surprised. Coriolanus had always assumed he was covering his tracks well. Or that, at the very least, you'd have something to say about it all.

"He was making rather vulgar comments about you, darling. The bastard seems to have been making donations in an effort to get closer to you." he slowly explains as you stand back up, nodding slowly.

"Hm... Yes, that is rather concerning. And I suppose you've gone too far ahead for us to save him, always the temperamental lover you are." you tease.

Your humorous response and your unwillingness to run away from the darkness of the situation, it awakens something fierce in Coriolanus that he hasn't felt for you before.

"I suppose."

The euphoria he feels when your delicate fingers lace his to grab the knife instead, before you finally drive the blade down and end the man's life, is indescribable.

"I think you owe me a new dress." you say quietly, dropping the knife onto the floor.

The blonde wastes no time gathering you up in his arms, kissing you so fiercely that it almost hurts your neck.

"I think I owe you more than that, darling. How about the entirety of Panem?"

He'd do anything for you. The entirety of Panem be damned.

a/n: omg this has got to be the darkest piece of writing + fucked up ending I've ever written in like years of writing on tumblr 😅😭 but idk I'm obsessed with an idea of Corio's partner being someone who embraces him wholeheartedly and surprises him by being darker than she seems on the surface.

please leave a like/comment/reblog/ask if you've enjoyed, your support is what motivates me to write!

ALSO I've just re-opened my requests bc I would love to receive some corio fic ideas, so please send in your corio thoughts if you have any 🥺🥺🥺