#make them happy riot please please please

[teeto-peteto]

LOL Au where Annie hears Ivern mention Daisy and she thinks it's *her* Daisy, so she follows after him and then there's this nice moment with Ivern and Annie, I don't know. I like when characters are happy.

YES PLEASE <3 i can picture this in my mind and like imagine Ivern's Daisy and Annie playing those hand games we used to do as kids like clapping each others hands while singing a childish song and Ivern is like Oooh i want to do that too!!!

[tbartss]

my drowned rat son<3

am i the only one who imagines him with an undercut and sharp cheekbones? ok then

[demacianbrawn]

me writing garen and kat stuff

[ddejavvu]

hii i love your writing!! i was wondering if you could write something with bassist!remus where hes like suuper flirty with reader in the backstage and the rest of the boys sort of tease him😭😭 tysm💗💗💗

Remus is typically the strong, silent type on stage, much preferring a stony expression to the goo-goo eyes James makes at whoever takes their top off in the pit. After all, he's taken, and his detachment from their band's rather forward fanbase has led to conclusions that he's not exactly Mr. Romance.

But five minutes before he'd been bathed in stage lighting he'd been slouched forwards in his chair, your lithe hands trailing feather-light lines across his back. He's wearing a t-shirt, not a lazy outfit choice but a simple one, and the points of your nails feel heavenly through the thin fabric.

"Lower." He commands, gently, kindly, but still a command, and he arches forwards in his seat to let your nails scrape lower towards his waistband.

He groans as you scratch lightly near the base of his spine, and you're surprised that his right leg doesn't shoot out from under the chair like a particularly happy dog's.

"That's it." He mumbles, letting you scratch the rest of his itch before he straightens in his seat, "Y'know my back's always itchy when you're not here before a show? Three hours on stage with an itchy back, 's murder."

"Sirius could itch it. He's got nice nails."

"No. He'd try to lift my shirt up and flash the audience. Can't have the masses seeing my abs, y'know."

"'Cause they're mine." You conclude, nodding thoughtfully, "Will you lift your shirt up and flash me?"

"Here? In front of all the lighting and sound guys?" He gestures to the gaggle of technicians all proceeding with last-minute prep for the show, "That's pretty racy. Sort of defeats the whole point of keeping them to yourself."

"Later, at home." You bargain, "Please?"

Fans' voices kick up from beyond the stage, meaning the lights have gone off and Sirius, James, and Remus needs to get out there before a riot breaks out. You grab hold of Remus's hand, though, waiting until he gives in with an amused smirk, "Fine. I'll take off my shirt for you later."

"Good luck." You release him, squeezing his hand once before doing so, "I'll be watching."

You are watching, and Sirius knows that, which is surely why he calls attention to your boyfriend mere minutes into their set, "We all heard you cheer extra loud for Remus, you traitors. I'll have you know he's not as dark and brooding as he seems. Jus' promised his lady backstage that he'd be stripping for her later."

"Yeah, she's got him wrapped around her finger," James laughs, a deep chuckle that's barely heard over the instant rise in volume from the crowd, "Mr. Mystery over here was begging for a back scratch not ten minutes ago."

You don't need to be up close and personal to Remus to notice the rouge suddenly flaring over his cheekbones, but to his credit his face is still set in a confident smirk. He takes it like a champ, even though you're sure he's dying inside as fans tease him.

"Say whatever you want." Remus finally speaks, eliciting a round of cheers from the crowd, "But you boys don't get your backs scratched before a show, so I know you're just jealous."

[yourfatherlucifer]

Die With A Smile | In-Ho (Drabble)

“Y/N, please stay here, I know you want to go with but it’s not safe.” Young-il was going to do his damndest to keep you safe, knowing he couldn’t give orders to give you protection from this riot that Gi-Hun was leading.

“Young-Il, I’m fine, I wanna be next to you. What if something happens and I’m not there with you? Hm? What then? I can’t lose you. I just got you.” He could see the desperation in your eyes, the longing, the sincere feelings.

It’s all he’s ever wanted since that day.

The others were getting ready to leave, causing you to panic, “Please don’t leave me here!” You quickly grabbed the turning man’s arm.

In-Ho tsked in frustration, “Fine, but you stay near me.” He shoved a gun into your arms, this wasn’t a good idea. You both knew it.

Everyone marched their way upstairs, Hyun-Ju shooting every camera that came into view, but not before In-Ho could eye them down. Almost as if he was signaling something but he knew his officer wouldn’t understand what he wanted.

Sure, this was against his rules, picking favorites - he wanted you for his self.

Gunfire was almost instantaneous, guards quickly finding the players. This caused In-Ho to shield you as Gi-Hun took the mask from the now dead guard.

“Dammit, okay, we need to find the control room, Jung-Bae, you’re coming with me.” Gi-Hun called out over the gunfire. This made In-Ho nearly snarl in anger. He couldn’t give up his position however, not if he wanted to keep you safe.

Things were getting harsh, everyone was running low on ammo and no one knew what to do.

You took In-Ho’s hand and shouted for two more people to follow, running towards the same door that Gi-Hun went through.

Each of you traversed the maze-like halls. It was really pissing you off that everything was childlike.

“I can’t wait to get out of this place.” You growled in annoyance, keeping your gun barrel raised.

In-Ho knew at his point, he’d really have to watch you. Everyone was getting too close to the control room.

Before he could make his way to the firing man down the hall, a bullet resounded through the hall.

Your eyes widened in shock as you looked down, blood soaked your white shirt as blood began flowing out of your throat, immediately starting to choke.

“Y/N!” In-Ho screamed in disbelief, he couldn’t give the order in time. He’s screwed up.

He shot the pink guard down and grabbed your body before it fell, “No, no, no, this wasn’t supposed to happen.” This wasn’t the plan.

“Youn-“

In-Ho quickly hushed you and shook his head, “Quiet, do not speak, it’s okay. I- I- can fix this.” His hands were pressing against your bullet wound but it was of no use, blood was flowing past his fingers and staining the sleeves of his jacket.

You raised your own bloody hand and cupped his cheeks, smearing your red fluid across his face, “It’s okay, I’m so happy to have met you. I would’ve loved better circumstances however.” A smile appeared on your fading cheeks but that didn’t stop you from pulling down In-Ho and giving him a bloody kiss.

“Y/N please, don’t do this. I told you to stay back. I knew this would happen. Why didn’t you listen?” Sobs racked his body as he lost his stone-like composure.

He can’t do this without you. He needs you by his side.

“I’ll see you in time, okay? I love you Young-Il.”

Just like that, you were gone.

In-Ho threw his head back in a scream.

Everyone was going to pay for this.

Especially Gi-Hun.

________

I hope you enjoyed this Drabble, if you did, please leave some feedback. It’s appreciated and will help me make more content for you.

Requests are open.

[threepandas]

Bad End: Happy Wife

Thirteen servants were dead; Two estates on fire.

I never even made it to the gates.

The smell of smoke lingered in the air. Clung to his hair and skin, even after bathing. Because no amount of scented oils, scrubbing, could erase his sin. The scent of iron and cooking flesh. Cruel scents of ancient houses ablaze. Innocent people being slaughtered. For... for the crime of trying to help me.

It was all my fault.

Last time, I had escaped alone. Or... more laughably, he had let me escape.

So he could hunt me through the forest like a brightly colored deer. Some pretty prey to stalk and torment. Letting me exhaust myself. Run and run until I could no longer, before casually strolling up to come collect me. As though letting me get it out of my system. A man, merely humoring his wife's tantrums and overly dramatic, willful ways.

I never should have accepted help. No matter have lonely I was. How desperate my despair. Because... because-!

"I'll get you new ones. Don't be upset, Love." The monster that was my husband, said idly. His voice a low rumble like thunder, his so called 'sweet' tone. "Servants that can't obey their lord, can't be trusted. Shouldn't be kept. They were scum. I'll get you better ones."

Ha ha... more like, servants that obeyed him. Feared him. Had no shred of mercy or honor, left in their bones. Gods... I... I had condemned thirteen good souls. All for trying to help me. Save me. Just for trying to get me out of this hell and away from this man.

I would never forgive this life's sperm donor, for handing me over. Because... because after a betray like that? After I had begged? Begged and screamed, rioted and tried to run? And STILL he handed me over? He was no kin of mine. I had no family.

Not in this life.

My family may not have been perfect. May have been flawed. But they would never have handed me over to a psychopath. Sold me to the highest bidder, like chattle. And... and honestly? I would take them at their worst, over these bastards at their best.

I never should have read that STUPID book. Yeah, maybe, it had nothing to do with anything. Maybe, all it would have done is left me ignorant on top of being stranded. But? I had to blame something. Or I'd go insane. So it was the fucking book's fault.

Recommend by an internet friend. Historical fiction. Lots of complex characters and some spicy yandere. How FUN. Court intrigues! Poisonings! Bastards and hidden births! Great to read... literal hell to live through. Everyone wanted everyone fucking dead, and all I wanted? Was to marry far, FAR into the countryside. Live a boring ass life.

But apparently I blinked funny. Or was standing in the wrong place at the wrong time. Wore the wrong fucking dress (well, not dress, but you get the idea). Because next thing I knew? Yandere Sr., of Yandere and Yandere, is looking at me! And not in that "oh, what an interesting bug" sort of way! Look looking!

I didn't know shit about him! Yes, his son. But him? Nothing!

Well... aside from the fact he was a VERY convenient Widower. Like... the SECOND he got a kid out of his arranged wife. It was all very "everyone suspected but no one could prove shit" Sort of thing.

And? Said son? Becomes a major antagonist in the book. Until he "embarrasses" his Father by going too far. Implied gruesome end to follow. Plot moves on. Which? Is all well and good FOR THEM. But what about me?! I had nothing to go on! Aside from "Aaah ha ha ha! Run." Which? Didn't fucking help, in the end! Still... s-still ended up married.

Though, my new "son" ended up dead, in relatively short order. Apparently wasn't too pleased to have a step-mom. Tried to do something about it. Disappeared between one day and the next. And now no one is allowed to so much as talk about him. But hey! It's apparently fine! Because at some point? We're gonna make a better one!

"Your thoughts are far away, Love. Should I help you concentrate?" Husband muses, from the edge of the bed. I jerk back as I jolt violently to the present, focusing on the threat. He looks pleased. "Better~, this wife should focus only on her Lord. And yet... once again she's wandered. Tried to run. This lord wonders what he should do, hmm?"

Scrunched up in a ball on the bed, I hoped the answer was fucking "nothing". Or maybe, perhaps, "leave". Inching backwards, like the hunted animal I felt like, I wasn't fast enough to avoid the hand that shot out. Capturing my ankle in shackle strong grip.

It wasn't crushing. Left no bruises. Yet the touch felt scalding, as his hand imprisoned yet cradled my ankle. Dragged my leg free of my curled up little ball of self. I froze, as I felt his other hand gentle running the tips of his fingers up and down my shin. Up and down, up and down. As though just feeling my skin.

"Should he make sure his wife can not run?" This grip tightened, nearly bruising. His other gripping farther up my leg. As though casually preparing to snap bones. "Or perhaps, he should chain you away? Hmm? This Lords wife is a troublesome girl. Causing trouble as she does... ah~, what to do with her..."

Terrified, sat froze. Mind numb. Please. Gods. Please, please, please! D-Don't. I was shaking. Could feel tears starting to build. Watched, helplessly, as he examined me. Something pleased, satisfied even, creeped into his expression. And without breaking eye contact, he lifted my leg towards his face, to gently kiss the skin right above my ankle bone. It could have been tender... if it didn't feel like a threat.

"This wife is so very lucky, that this Lord loves her so. That he would never."

It was almost mocking, in how sweet the words curled. As though suggesting that because this one thing was too far, he was a good man. As though suggesting that he would do far worse to others, in my place. But don't worry. You won't be hurt. See how benevolent he is?

"But come, let us not discuss your punishments tonight, hmm?"

Like a predator, stalking his prey, he crawled up onto the bed. Closer and closer. There was no where to run. Was this it? W-was this the day he... he-? Looming, on his knees, above my curled up ball of fear, he effortlessly worked his arm in and around my waist. Dragging me closer. All but into his lap.

"You are tired. Upset. Have made such messes for this husband to clean." He murmured, face pressed close. Breathe ghosting against my neck, my ear. All I could smell was rich soaps and smoke. "We can deal with this tomorrow. For now, it's time for bed. So go ahead, rest sweetly in my arms, Love.

"It's where you belong."

[midnightshindig]

Ahhhhhhhh why are you so good at embodying the characters when you write??! (Teach me👀)

This has been on my mind for awhile, but Mark x platonic ride or die bestie headcanons. I just feel bad for him yknow? Home boy/girl/babe is ready to rock the next enemy’s ****shit**** if they make things a smidge stressful for him or his loved ones. But is also simultaneously very considerate/sweet in their own dumpster-fire way. No matter what dimension, what decision, what future, they’re there because they care. Oh imagine them being like an older sibling figure to Oliver or later on Uncle/Aunt figure for Tara!

Thank you for your time - hope you’re doing well 🫡✨

Mark & Bestie!Reader

Okay so here's where I tell you all my shameful secret:

I had one of those etsy accounts where you pay to get a letter from a fictional character in middle school...

I made like over a thousand dollars with it before deactivating it for school reasons. and that's how I'm so well versed in getting into character. Is I used to get paid to do it.

My one tip is to-- obviously-- understand the character. But not from their perspective, from YOUR perspective. You have to get it and find a way to be them that is still you or else it's too unnatural and you feel cringe

ALSO IDK WHAT THE FUCK A TARA IS BUT I WILL SMITE YOU. Please no comic spoilers <3 (/nm)

anyways hcs under the cut!

Mark was a pretty feeble dude in high school pre-powers

and William-- as a scrawny gay kid-- can only protect him from so much

Which is why when you-- tall ass feisty ass chomping-at-the-bit Y/n-- came into his life, you clicked instantly

It was a classic case of Muscle and brain

except you were both Mark's protector AND his geography tutor

sooo.... idk what Mark really brings to the table

I'm kidding I'm kidding!

you and Mark are absolute homies and you're so happy to have met him

....

especially when he GETS SUPERPOWERS???

All those years of you beating down cruel jocks and trash talking snobby snoots have finally paid off

because now this 18-year-old dweeb owes you like basically a lifetime of free flights to wherever

ohhhh and you abuse this power SO much it's not even funny

"Mark, I feel like Pizza-"

"Oh no..."

"In Italy!"

"This is the fourth time this month!"

"Chop chop, super boy."

Not to say you're using him, though

you're still the same gung ho supportive riot you've always been

When Cecil is getting in Mark's space and business, you're the first person up from your chair to bark at him to

"SHUT THE FUCK UP"

Like "Mark dude I really don't like you taking orders from some politician snob. He's bad news."

and he'd come to an "I told you so moment" with you in a few years.

But you never hold it against him.

Mostly.

You're also one of the only people who Mark listens to when he's wrong

"I'm not leaving Eve!"

and you fucking kick in the door like

"Mark- your eight year old brother is out there ALONE and DEFENSLESS against MURDEROUS YOUS. Debbie is who knows where and if you don't take the fight to them, they're going to bring the fight to you with my head on a stick." You jostle him and shove him by the shoulders

Mark, frazzled and annoyed "no! I'm not leaving her-"

"Shut the FUCK UP." You stop, holding him sternly "Eve is going to HATE YOU for this. Get the fuck out there and let me handle things here." your face softens "I'll make sure these pigs don't touch her."

Powerless though you are, this brings him enough comfort to agree to go back to fighting

Eve can't thank you enough for this when she wakes up weeks later

Mark has a lot of power imbalance issues

it's good that he has someone so staunchly opposed to him who loves him so much

but you're not here to corral Mark into what YOU want him to do

for example

"Y/n, I don't know what to do, Cecil won't stop using D.A Sinclair and Darkwing- but they're murderers! How can he expect me to just work with them?!"

You took a long sip of your sweet tea, perched comfortably on your gaming chair

"I mean, I don't know, Mark. They seem under a tight leash, and doesn't everyone deserve a chance to make up for what they did?"

"Ugh- not murderers. Not guys like that." Mark is conflicted, folding his arms

You spin in your chair casually "I think you're dead wrong, but if you want to storm the capital and fuck up Sinclair yourself, I'll back you."

Mark nods in appreciation, his soles hitting the ground when he didn't even realize he was floating

"Thanks, Y/n.... I appreciate that."

"You know it, man. I'll overthrow a government for you any day. Your powers, my smarts-"

"Yyyyyou have a C in physics-"

"Ah ah aH! HONORS Physics. For second years. In college. and I'm what?" Mark opened his mouth to answer before you cut him off "I'm a first year! So blah blah blah YOUR superpowers and MY smarts." You took another drink of sweet tea "We got this."

You're the only person Mark really trusts to babysit Oliver

Since you're the only person Oliver is too scared to disobey

like not that you beat the kid or anything

you're just intimidating

He sees how you boss around his older brother- his whole WORLD- and he's like... damn gotta get in my pjs and brush my teeth before 8 ig

But you're pretty lax with him

"Hey Oliver, wanna go to the skatepark tonight?"

He's like bouncing on his toes all excited "yeah!!"

"Okayyyy but you gotta eat your peas and fly me there"

so he eats his peas and you get the hilarious visual of an eight year old holding your hands as you dangle helplessly in the air

he's literally too little to hold you any other way lmao

Mark never knowssss

Oliver is in bed by the time anyone gets home

and you're on the couch flipping through and prank calling every telepalm reader in their yellow pages

"Oh hey, you're home!" with a big, mischievous ass grin

and then Mark joins you on the couch and prank calls hella telepalm readers with you

You help him not lose his teenage boy-ness

and he needs that

so

so desperately

[missnxthingg]

𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬, 𝑭𝑹𝑶𝑴 𝑨𝑳𝑳 𝑭𝑶𝑼𝑹 𝑪𝑶𝑹𝑵𝑬𝑹𝑺 𝑶𝑭 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑳𝑫 . (𝑺𝑴𝑨𝑼 𝑽𝑬𝑹𝑺𝑰𝑶𝑵) - 𝑆𝐼𝑋 (𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑡𝑤𝑜)

𝑨𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆 - We finally arrived to the last chapter. I'm so happy you guys came along this journey and this is a wholesome story (that you'll only understand if you read the actually fanfic. Thank you so much for coming along the road, I hope to see you in more of my stories soon.

original chapter | series masterlist | main masterlist | taglist | pt 1

yourusername

yourusername Life lately ❤

tagged: landonorris

username1 emma is growing up so fast

username2 Ollie is the best big sister ever!

username3 lando in daddy duty is so cute

username4 can't wait to see this beautiful family on track

username5 wedding when??? 💍💍💍

↪ username6 PLEASE y/n will look so beautiful as a bride

yourusername

Sicily, Italy

yourusername Mommy and daddy very needed getaway ❤ enjoying summer break and celebrating almost three years together and two daughters later

tagged: landonorris

landonorris I love you, hot momma ❤

↪yourusername I love you forever ❤

username1 When's the wedding guys???

↪username2 here we are BEGGING them again ↪username3 can't wait for this to happen tbh

landonorris

Silverstone

landonorris Back when I was a rookie, I begged my boss to bring the cute girl from the comms team to Silverstone, because we had become really good friends and I wanted her there. Today, I asked her to marry me on the same track. And she said yes. I'm marrying my best friend, the love of my life and the mother of my two beautiful daughters. Life is worth living ❤

tagged: yourusername

yourusername I love you, future hubby ❤ can't wait to spend the rest of my life with my best friend

maxfewtrell Can't believe you finally got the girl

↪oscarpiastri For real, I didn't think it would ever happen

username1 FUCKING FINALLY!

username2 mom and dad are getting married 💍💍 WAR IS OVER!

username3 I can't believe he proposed at Silverstone 😭 now he needs to win to crown this weekend

↪yourusername He better dedicate that throphy to me when he wins (he will)

yourusername

yourusername Today, I married my best friend 💍 Till nothing do us apart, because not even death will take me away from you

tagged: landonorris

comments are limited

landonorris My everything ❤ I love you wifey, you and me to eternity

landonorris

landonorris You & me ❤ always & forever

tagged: yourusername

comments are limited

yourusername So cool that you added a picture of me completely destroyed after the ceremony 😂 I love you anyway

yourusername

yourusername Surprise, surprise! Happy to announce we have another Norris in the oven. Say hello to baby Khai 🤍

landonorris Hello, baby Khai 😍

↪yourusername Baby Khai says: "Hi, daddy!"

landonorris The prettiest woman in the world! I love you so much, momma

↪yourusername I love you more, papa

username1 SHE'S A BABY MACHINE OMG

↪username2 we're not complaining though

username3 Emma is barely one and a half, and they are already popping another one out

↪username4 Can we now get a baby that's a little bit of both? ↪username5 For real, Em is so much like him and Ollie is so much like her. We need Khai to be a crazy mix of them. ↪yourusername Praying for that too tbh. If I have to carry another baby for nine months only for them to look like their father, I'm gonna riot

yourmother Another little one to make us all happy

maxfewtrell I'm so happy for you guys ❤

username3 The prettiest family indeed ❤ Congratulations

⋘ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 ⋙

[lavandulawrites]

Can you give us some Yandere Dottore please ☺️

Hurry Before The Dinner Gets Cold

Yandere Dottore x reader

Dinner with Dottore is never pleasant.

Masterlist

Word count: 794

The silver wear clinked against the porcelain plates. The room were dimly lit, making it a almost cozy atmosphere. A butler and a maid were standing against the east wall, almost like they were apart of the decoration. The wind howled outside.

In front of you sat Dottore. His gaze fixed on the beef on his plate. Blood was oozing from the rare steak as he cut into it with precision. Like a surgeon.

His eyes met yours. “Are you not going to touch your food dear?” his deep voice thick like honey. His expression one of concern. “I know that you do not trust me, but you need nutrition.”

Your mouth a tin line “I am not hungry”.

His stare unyielding. His eyes a replica of the dark blood in the many test tubes inside if lab. “Really?”

“Yes” you nodded trying your best to remain expressionless.

He hummed as his gaze bore through you. “Why do I find that hard to believe?” he tilted his head. He sighed and snapped his fingers. The butler hurried to him and bowed his head in an almost inhuman way. “Bring me the chef” he ordered. The butler nodded and hurried out. Not too long after the chef was standing beside Dottore.

“Is it perhaps that the food wasn’t to your liking?” Dottore raised a brow and nodded towards your untouched food.

You quickly caught onto his scheme and shook your head. “N-no! It’s not that at all!” you waved your hands and forced your lips into a tight smile.

The Harbinger’s eyes wandered over your features. “Are you sure darling? If your meal is not good enough, I will have to punish the chef. After all your happiness and comfort is the most important thing for me” his face twisted in concern.

Your eyes flickered to the chef who’s face was drenched in sweat. He was shaking. You gulped “I assure you the meal is not the issue”.

Dottore hummed. “Are you perhaps not feeling well?” his expression unreadable. “Everyone get out” he ordered. The servants and the chef all exited in a hurry leaving you alone with the blue haired man. “Let’s make a deal” he leaned forward and folds his hands hand rests his head on them. “You eat up all the food on your plate and I will spare the chef. Sounds good doesn’t it?” he said with a unsettling grin.

You looked down in your plate. With a shivering hand you lifted the fork to your lips. You closed your eyes to calm your nerves. A hum could be heard from opposite of the table “You better hurry for the dinner gets cold”.

You held your breath and shoved the fork into your mouth. The meat was tender and cooked after your preference.

“See? That wasn’t so hard was it now?”. You opens your eyes and were met with a sharp teethed smile. “You were afraid I drugged the food.”

You swallowed. “I have my rights to be suspicious”

“Of course my love” his voice melodic. “You were indeed right with your suspicion.”

You dropped your fork. You entire frame shaking. “What…?”

“Oh come now. It’s not dangerous. It’s just a way to get you a little more relaxed. I am starting to get sick of your small riots, so I came up with a solution. This drug will make your mind slowly but surely more submissive. I really do love you you know, but u can’t have you keep hurting yourself” he smirked. “Though it seems that I have to find a new way…” he sighed. “But worry not… I will have your memory of this dinner wiped. Just like last time…” his red eyes gleaming with something sinister.

Your eyes widened. The hair on the back of your neck raising. “Last time?” your voice shaky.

Dottore smiled “Yes darling. Wiping someone’s memory so mere child play for a man of my calibre”. He chuckled and rose to his feet. The chair scraping against the carpet. Like a animal he stalked towards you. He stopped behind your chair and leaned down. Much to your dismay you had to admit the doctor smelled good. Really good. His smell always bringing you a sense of comfort.

He leaned hand on the arm rest of your chair. His lips mere centimetres away from your ear. “Relax darling. This is for your own good you know?” his lips kissing your neck. He pulled away and placed a device against your right temple. When did he get that? The device glowed blue and it hummed slightly.

“Rest now…”

Darkness swallowed your senses and you fell into a deep slumber.

Dottore stroked your hair with a living expression. “A pity… I have to start over it seems.”

[ashotofogdensoldfirewhiskey]

Would you write something about Harry being forced by Ginny or the Weasleys to enter Harry Potter lookalike competition as a joke and he gets like the fourth position? I think it'd be funny and you're just the right author to do justice to this prompt. Love your writing ❣️

Endless apologies for how long this sat in my inbox. Have a lil ficlet for your trouble. <3

****

“You’ve got to go,” Ginny begged, her eyes alight with mischief. “You’ve got to.”

Harry stared at the poster they’d discovered hanging on the telephone pole on Charing Cross road incredulously. “This is a joke. It’s got to be a joke, right?”

“No, no, no, I’ve seen these!” Ginny squealed excitedly, pulling the poster down with something like glee. “There was one for Gilderoy Lockhart last weekend in Godric’s Hollow–”

“Bit tasteless, that,” Harry remarked dryly. “He’s still in St. Mungos, isn’t he?”

Ginny ignored him. “Look, it’s in the square outside Gringotts in ten minutes–”

“Gin–”

“Please,” Ginny begged. “It’ll be so funny. I know you hate attention but please, just this once, let’s use the fame card. And look,” she continued, waving the poster in her hand emphatically. “There’s a 15 Sickle prize–”

Harry snorted. “What’ll you buy with that? A pint?”

“We have to go, Harry!”

Harry looked at her, wondered if she knew that he couldn’t ever deny her something that’d make her happy, and whether such information could be trusted in her mischievous little hands. “Fine,” he agreed. “But if we get swarmed with photographers I swear I’m bringing back that toenail curse of Snape’s–”

“Yes!” Ginny squealed. “This’ll be a riot. Call Hermione, would you?”

Harry stared at her blankly. “What?”

“Hermione,” Ginny said, reaching up to re-fasten the poster to the pole with the push pin. “Tell her and Ron to meet us over there–”

“No,” Harry protested, panic rising. “I’m not gathering an audience for this–”

“Harry,” Ginny replied firmly, her grin far too broad. “Ron will kill us if he’s not there.”

“If you want them there so badly, you call them–”

“You know I can’t work out all those buttons–”

“I’ve programmed your phone to–”

“There isn’t time!” Ginny waved her hand dismissively. “Please?”

Harry was beginning to suspect she did know the power she wielded. 

“Fine.”

Read the rest on AO3.

[orion-archives]

Dear Americans and people outside Mexico: Please stop.

I have seen many posts of people outside Mexico saying: Congrats, Mexico! Claudia, a leftist feminist ambientalist jewish woman, is president! Take notes US!

Meanwhile, you go out in the streets in Mexico today and no one is celebrating. No one. The streets are empty, everything feels sad and hopeless.

A lot of people didn't want her. Because we know what is going to happen.

Morena (her political group) is literally in every position of power. From senators, to city governors. They have EVERY SINGLE thing in the goverment.

You know how bad things are gonna get for us here? Do you know what she has allowed? What THEY have done to our country? All the shit we have been through because of them?

No, because you don't care. You haven't cared enough to research who this woman is really and just praise her without knowing a shit.

Because you have to make everything about you, don't you?.

"I can't believe Mexico has a woman president before US!"

"OMG, US take notes!"

"The US-"

Can you stop for a second and think outside of your bubble? Do you truly know who this woman is and what she has done to Mexico? Or you are just using this to talk about you and your own country and problems?

Please. Please do your research.

She is not your precious feminist ally.

She has denied multiple times the ongoing wave of violence against women in Mexico (11 women go missing A DAY). She has sent riot police to gas feminist protests.

Did you hear what I said?

11 WOMEN GO MISSING A DAY.

EVERY DAY 11 WOMEN NEVER COME BACK, ARE KILLED, ARE RAPED, ARE TORTURED, ARE GETTING FORGOTTEN WITHOUT LEAVING A TRACE. EVERYDAY.

And she denies this. She has denied MULTIPLE TIMES that the violence against women is at an all time high.

A feminist would denied that 11 mothers/sisters/daughters/aunts/girls/women/people are going missing PER DAY?

No. Because she doesn't fucking care.

She is no ambientalist.

She was more than happy to support the Tren Maya, a project AMLO, the former president, was hooked on making since the begining.

The issue?

DEFORESTATION. MASSIVE DEFORESTATION.

10 MILLION TREES HAVE BEEN CUT DOWN.

Entire natural spaces gone for a train that isn't even working and already is having problems.

Also, how can I forget this?

27 people died, 80 injured.

The line 12 (Linea 12) of the CDMX Metro collapsed. The structure and the entire transport had (and still are) been neglected by the city administration.

Guess who was in charge of CDMX at the time of the tragedy?

Exactly, Claudia Sheinbaum. What was she doing instead of sending resources and money to fix and mantain the Metro?

But political propaganda for herself, of course!

And even after that tragedy, there have been multiple issues and accidents in the metro. A fucking coworker of a family member was trapped in a wagon alongside multiple people for HOURS due to a malfuction of the metro. They weren't allowed to get out even if they were cooking alive due to the heat of being inside a closed wagon and police ordered them TO NOT FILM what was happening to them.

She is not a saint. She is not an icon. She is not someone you should praise.

FUCKING INFORM YOURSELF BEFORE TALKING.

Mexico is not USA. Get it? We don't have the same politics and issues you have, get that?

The entire world doesn't revolve around you. We aren't your argument to use, we aren't your little meme to fuck around with.

We are people that are tired. People that didn't want this. People that are upset, dissapointed, mad, hopeless.

My blog isn't a political place, so as a final note, I want to say this:

I want to be wrong. I really, really want to be fucking wrong.

I want my country, Mexico, to be ok. To be a better place to live.

I HOPE to be wrong and that things get better. For me, for my family, for my friends, for the millions of people that stay, study, work, breathe, live and love this country.

Claudia Sheinbaum, I really want to be wrong about you. Not because I love you, but because I love Mexico.

I don't have high hopes for the future, but I really, REALLY, want things to be better.

That's all I have to say for now.

[goodlucktai]

What if I said 10 & 20 as portal duo thanks so much

dialogue prompts

10. “I don’t care. I’m not leaving you.”

+ 20. “Get away! You’re hurting them!”

for my beloved meeks

x

They weren’t supposed to be here. It’s stupid, but it’s the first thing that springs to Mikey’s mind. 

Leo had only recently graduated with honors from those initial grueling physical therapy sessions that usually ended in tears (not always Leo’s) to daily exercises that got easier and easier until he was breezing through them the way he used to breeze through everything. 

If he went farther than two steps away from his arm crutches Donnie appeared out of thin air looking ready to breathe fire at him, and Raph was in the habit now of holding Leo out at arm’s length immediately after every hug in the manner of scruffing an unruly kitten to double-check he was wearing his leg brace and compression sleeve, and Mikey had learned the hard way what everyone meant when they said medics make the absolute worst patients. 

But for the most part Leo was doing really good! He was hitting all his marks and only driving everyone a tiny bit insane—well within the allotted Leo amount! 

So when he had smiled that crooked, conspiring smile at Mikey the minute the coast was clear and said, “There’s no better strengthening exercise then sneaking out with my favorite little brother for a past-due victory smoothie,” what was Mikey supposed to tell him? No??

It did occur to him, a tiny little guilty whisper. Leo was healing. He’d been so badly hurt. Even Splinter, who spoiled Leonardo rotten, hadn’t given into the slider’s constant pleas to rush the recovery process along. They were going by the book. Literally, since Donatello had stepped up as team medic in the interim. Don and Raph and April and even Casey were all very good at not bending an inch no matter how many tragic looks got sent their way. Mikey wasn’t very good at that at all. 

And anyway, joy had drowned out that whisper with a shout. He lit up with it, that newly-discovered supernova inside him curling up like a happy cat in a patch of sunshine. There’s a very big part of him that will always be what it’s always been, no matter how old he gets, or how powerful his mystic arts become—he’ll always be Michelangelo, and Michelangelo will follow Leonardo absolutely anywhere. 

So he said, “I’ll get my hoodie!” and darted out the door with zero ninja stealth, clipping his shoulder on the frame and almost crashing into the table in the hall. Leo laughed behind him, and the unrestrained sound made Mikey feel like he could float. Maybe he actually did for a second or two. 

He’ll never forget those horrible minutes after the portal closed, after Leo’s comms went dead, when he had wondered if he would ever hear his brother’s voice again. When he wondered what, exactly, his last words to Leo had been—they almost certainly weren’t I love you or please don’t leave so they didn’t count. 

To make up for it, he wanted to tell Leo everything every chance he got. He wanted to make him laugh all the time. He wanted to crowd into the little twin-size infirmary bed to watch movies or do art projects that got glitter everywhere. He wanted to sneak out for smoothies even though it would get them in big trouble, because that was literally why he helped save the world in the first place. 

And now he’s standing in a dim sidestreet, an orange streetlight buzzing dully above him, two smoothies melting in his hands. It’s their usual shortcut home, through a bunch of foreclosed apartment buildings and a dead end road. Leonardo is in front of him, shoulders stiff, ninpo humming weakly beneath his skin like a tired little beetle that shouldn’t be up from hibernation just yet. 

Across the road are half a dozen humans in what looks like riot gear labeled TCRI and a man in a black suit. The man somehow looks more dangerous than the people in police armor. 

“Leo,” Mikey says in a small voice. His brother doesn’t answer, but he does shift his weight to put Mikey more firmly behind him, which is answer enough. 

And Mikey thinks, We weren’t supposed to be here. No one knows where we are. 

The man in the suit starts talking into the bulky earpiece he’s wearing, but Mikey can’t make out what he’s saying over the buzzing of the streetlamp and the pounding of his own heart in his ears. All he hears is Leonardo murmur, “Mikey, go.”

“No,” Mikey’s mouth says automatically. It doesn’t even need any input from his brain to say it. Because no. 

“Mike,” Leo says, in his best leader voice. But his tone is urgent in a way that borders on being scared so closely it must mean he’s actually terrified, or he would never have let Mikey hear even a hint of it. “I’d go with you if I could. I’m sorry I can’t.” 

His hands tighten on his crutches. He can’t run. He’s still healing. He should be at home, doing his exercises with those little pink dumbbells in the warmth and safety of the lair, complaining the whole time in between tossing out ideas for dinner. 

Mikey should have said no to sneaking out the way Donnie and Raphie would have instantly said no. He should be better at taking care of Leo the way he needs to be taken care of, the way everyone else does so easily. 

The armored people start to shift to the side, moving around Mikey and Leo in a wide formation, hands on the guns holstered at their waists. Containing them. The man in the suit is still talking, face inscrutable behind the tinted glasses he’s wearing, but his face hasn’t twitched away from their direction even once. 

“Hey,” Leo says, bringing Mikey’s attention back. “Don’t look at them, look at me.”

He’s smiling over his shoulder like it’s any other back-alley brawl with the mutant of the week or a handful of those Foot soldiers who never know when to quit, and not a horrible high-stakes situation in which Mikey stands to lose one of the most important things in the entire world if he makes the wrong move. 

“Just get home and get the guys, okay? Then come right back for me. You can outrun these goons without breaking a sweat. You can do anything.”

Mikey drops the smoothies and the cold wet soaks through one of his sneakers instantly but he needs his hands free so he can clutch the back of Leo’s stupid hoodie. He needs to hold on tight and make sure whoever tries to take his brother away knows exactly what kind of knock-down drag-out fight they’re in for. 

“I don’t care,” Mikey says, too loud in the stillness. “I’m not leaving you.”

He wishes he were a snapper like Raphie. If he was big and strong and had a shell that was as good as bulletproof armor, he’d scoop Leonardo up and shield him from the guns and run them both away. 

If he was a genius like Donnie, he’d have one or a dozen gadgets on his person that would have saved them. 

But he’s just Mikey, who isn’t big and strong, who isn’t a genius, who isn’t one of the people Leonardo is willing to step down and be weak in front of and depend on. Just Mikey, who Leo saved all his best jokes for during painful rehab, like it mattered to him that Mikey didn’t see him struggle. Just Mikey, who Leo always lifts both arms for the second he sees him coming and squishes into the world’s best hug, even if he’s pissed off at everybody else. Just Mikey, who Leo wants to get better for, be the best for, be one of the constant things on this planet Mikey never needs to doubt, like gravity and sunrise and overpriced street food. 

Because there’s a very big part of him that will always be what it’s always been, no matter how mature he gets, or how accomplished a ninja master he becomes—he’ll always be Leonardo, and Leonardo would do anything to make sure Michelangelo keeps smiling. 

Leo is also very stupid, because he doesn’t seem to understand that Mikey will never smile again if his big brother goes away. 

When the TCRI agents explode forward at some signal Mikey missed, and grab the brothers and drag them apart, Leo stumbles and falls when his crutches are wrenched away. He’d probably be making a smart-ass comment if his jaw wasn’t clenched, the sudden fall probably radiating pain all the way up his spine, distress making his gold eyes burn neon yellow. 

Like a flip was switched, all the panic inside of Mikey evaporates into a red-tinged mist. 

The supernova inside him sleeps most of the time, because he’s not big enough to contain its multitudes yet, and it doesn’t want to cause pain. It only wants to shine light in dark places, it only wants to help. But it wakes up with a fury and fills every inch of him to the brim and the overflow spills right out of him, lifts him right off the ground, makes his voice a resounding thunderclap when he yells, “GET AWAY! You’re hurting him!” 

Staggering back and shouting in alarm, the agents begin firing, because humans in a panic are trigger-happy creatures, even well-trained ones like these guys must be. Every round fired disintegrates the second it meets the glow pouring out of Mikey, disappearing before it can do harm. 

“Holy shit,” Leo says, eyes wide. It’s the way Mikey imagines he probably looked at Leo, when everyone else feared Raphael was a lost cause but Leo put his hand on Mikey’s shoulder and told him, I’m not giving up on him. I’m not leaving him behind. A sailor lost in a storm and their first glimpse of the lighthouse in the dark, close enough to save them.

“Hold your fire!” the man in the black suit barks suddenly, his voice viciously angry. “I did not clear any of you to fire!” 

Mikey doesn’t care who the scary Men In Black guy is, or what reason he has for tracking Mikey and his brother down, or why he’s calling the dogs off now. He cares about helping Leo get back on his feet, scooping the crutches up off the ground and getting Leo’s arms in them, and staring right into Agent Sunglasses’s stupid face while the supernova burns and burns and burns inside him. 

Try it, he doesn’t say. Just try it. If the Krang couldn’t take my brother from me, what hope do you think you have?

He feels Leo’s arm slip around his, locking them together at the elbow. Leo’s ninpo, a soft breeze instead of the playful gale it’s supposed to be, weaves through Mikey’s own to lead it. 

‘Like this,’ the wind tells the sunburst, guiding it through the process it wants it to take the same way bigger hands used to guide a smaller Mikey through katas, readjusting his arms and poking him playfully on the beak when he scrunched it in frustration. The golden portal that opens beneath their feet costs him nothing, appearing as effortlessly as Leo’s spinning blue ones always do. 

The agent’s face goes slack with shock the second before the turtles disappear. 

They land on the sofa with enough force that it almost collapses, and Leo makes a pained noise, hands pressed to his plastron like he’s trying to contain a full-body ache with sheer willpower. Mikey scrambles off of him and falls off the sofa for his trouble. His clothes are prickly, like he’s covered in static electricity. A magazine left on the coffee table begins to move, pages flipping as if in a breeze. One of the beanbag chairs lifts up slightly, like gravity has gotten lighter in that specific spot. 

He feels too big for himself. There are multitudes inside him, a million different things that are all true at the same time. He’s still so angry, and he’s still so afraid, and he’s still just Mikey, who couldn’t be what Leo needed him to be until the last possible second. 

Just Mikey, who Leo saves his best smile for. Just Mikey, who Leo hugs like it’s the easiest thing in the world to bring another person that close and trust them right next to his heart. 

“You’re the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen,” Leo says, like it’s another truth Mikey can keep for as long as he wants. Forever, even.

There will be hell to pay when their brothers get home. There’s a brand-new danger their family needs to be made aware of. Leo tried to leave him behind again and it reopened a wound that was still raw and healing.

But for now that wild star in his heart doesn’t need to burn so bright. It can put all the furniture that began to float back down and go back to sleep. And Mikey can press his face into the cracked print of Leo’s favorite Chappell Roan hoodie and say, “Hope you enjoyed your last taste of freedom for the next hundred years.”

Leo laughs, but doesn’t let go of Mikey right away. He clings extra hard for an extra long minute.

He would have left, Mikey realizes, but he didn’t want to go. When he was alone on the Technodrome, staring down a monster and a portal and the truth of how to save everyone, he didn’t want to go. If there was any other choice, he would have taken it. He would have come home. 

Mikey isn’t Leo, who will do what he has to do no matter what it costs himself. Mikey isn't Raph or Donnie. Mikey is and always has been the spoiled baby of the family, who will do exactly what he wants to do and damn the consequences. He’ll tear a thousand holes open in the universe if that’s what it takes to keep his family together, and if the Hamato ancestors don’t like it then they can come and take their ninpo back. 

They can try, anyway. 

[eff4freddie]

Things You Knew

Javi Gutierrez x Reader Rating: M Words: 8k AN: This is my submission for @burntheedges roll-a-trope challenge and @auteurdelabre trope-off. Apologies for doubling up on challenges but it's been a pretty insane month at work. Anyway. I chose Javi G as I've never written for him before, and my trope was Soulmates. This was really fun to write and I hope you enjoy! Warnings: None

Your ankles crinkled in their sockets when you stretched them, and you didn’t want to think about what it meant, so you didn’t. You rolled your shoulders, feeling the way the tendons strained under the weight of keeping your head up. It wasn’t even that working for Javi was that hard – he was a kind boss, generous with his time and respectful of yours – it was just that his relentless quest had started to take its toll on all your other tasks. Tasks that were mounting up without his attention.

‘Mr Gutierrez…’ you started, your arms full of binders and your iPad balanced precariously on top, ‘you have a meeting with the executive producers this afternoon…’

‘Cancel it, and it is Javi, please. You know this, Cariño.’

He was good looking enough that you didn’t mind the pet name, or that he’d bestowed it upon you the moment he saw you on your first day in the job, seven and a half months ago. Now, though, it grated on you as he strode past you standing patiently at his office door.

‘They’ve said that if you don’t show up this time the deal is off, Mr Gutierrez,’ you tried again, following behind him as he made his way down the hall to the front door. Your heels clacked on the marble in a way that announced your arrival well before you had any intention of making it, and you hated that you were unable to move silently through his house.

‘They can say whatever they want to. They do not understand I’m on a quest,’ he said, talking to you over his shoulder as his longer legs carried him. You sighed, the sorrowful little sound of it stopping him in his tracks. You took a step back as he rounded on you.

‘Como, Cariño?’ he asked, his brows saddled in concern. ‘Do you work too late? Do you carry too many things? Look at all these…’ he tutted at you as he took the binders from your arms, all labelled neatly in your script; the names of his various projects, ledgers, budgets, a contract he still hadn’t read let alone signed. ‘Who makes you carry these, hmm?’ he said, grinning at you slightly as you secured your face in a disapproving glare.

‘My boss,’ you said, but fighting a grin.

‘What a monster he must be,’ Javi said, winking at you. You felt the heat crawling up your cheeks, and hated yourself for it. You had noticed long ago that his voice, when it was just the two of you, was softer, quieter, that he almost whispered to you such that sometimes you found yourself leaning closer into his orbit just to pick up the words. You felt the fizzle up your spine and ignored it, every time, his cologne and his shampoo and just his skin enough to send a riot of butterflies into your throat and suffocate you.

‘Enough of this, it does not matter to me,’ he said, dismissing your months of work.

‘Mr Gutierrez, when you find her, you’ll need…don’t you think you’ll…’ you tried to think of a reason. He didn’t need the money, you knew that. He didn’t need the social status, he had that in spades thanks to his wealth and his association with Nicholas Cage. He had everything a man could want except for the thing that kept him up at night, and when he found it…

‘Don’t you think Nic will want to know what happened to your next movie?’ you tried your Hail Mary, invoking the name of Jesus himself. Javi paused. Your arms now empty you tugged nervously on your sleeve.

‘I will find her,’ he said, determined, and you nodded at him. ‘But when I do, you are right, I will need to juggle all my other responsibilities…Oh, Cariño will you help me, still? You will not leave me to rot?’

‘You won’t rot,’ you said, rolling your eyes at him. ‘You’ll be too happy with her.’

He grinned, his dimples popping out. Sometimes you wondered what it would be like to take them between your teeth, but you resisted, you always resisted.

‘I will be, Cariño, won’t I?’ he said, but he wasn’t asking for an answer, and you could see the way his eyes had drifted away from yours that he was imagining her again, conjuring her in his mind as if he could transport her in front of him just by sheer will.

‘Yes, Prince Charming,’ you said, and he smiled at you, again.

‘If only I had a glass slipper to try on these women,’ he said.

‘You have better,’ you said, nodding to his wrist. Absent minded, he ran his fingers over the mark, the pattern you had seen enough times to know by heart.

He looked at you, sadly, then, his eyes coming back to yours. He knew it was a privilege to have been marked, that not everyone was born with their destiny etched on their wrists.

‘Is this hurting you?’ he asked, and you swallowed, collecting yourself for a moment.

‘You’re not the first I’ve witnessed find their match,’ you said, the words bitter on the back of your throat. ‘I’m happy that you will be happy, Mr Gutierrez. And that you apparently won’t fire me the moment you find her.’

‘I would never,’ he said, jostling the binders in his arms so that he could extend a hand to your shoulder. You felt the warmth seep into your skin through the loose cotton of your shirt. He wore a look of consolation on his face, and somehow that burned more than anything else.

A moment passed between the two of you, Javi’s thumb caressing your skin without his fully realising. You could see again his eyes were unfocussed, could see the spread of goosebumps up his forearm. You pushed him away, taking a step back and out of his grasp.

‘I do hope it’s soon, though,’ you said, plastering a smile on your face. ‘Not sure I can hold off the execs much longer.’

‘Tell them a family emergency came up,’ Javi said, ‘tell them I am sorry, but I must attend to my loved ones.’

‘Mr Gutierrez, we said that last time,’ you reminded him. He dropped your binders, one by one, on the hall table by the door. Through the glass you could see his driver idling his sports car. You held in a sigh. Taking a pen from his front pocket he at least signed the contract, sight unseen.

‘Tell them again…it is not untrue,’ he said. ‘When I find her, she will be family.’

Before you could try and get him to see sense he was gone, the door opened and closed for him as he strode over the threshold. You forced yourself to look away, to turn your shoulder and stare instead at the binders beside you. You could never look when he left you.

--

You had meant to go home, you really had, but you found yourself unaccountably engrossed in Javi’s bookkeeping and before you knew it the sun was setting over the ocean. Your phone rang, the vibrations jolting you out of your work.

‘-lo?’ you said, without checking, and when you heard a scoff you knew it was your roommate, Karla.

‘Girl, what are you doing?’ she asked, and you sighed.

‘I got…stuck with work.’

‘I’ve been texting. This time you didn’t even leave me on read.’

You had put your phone on Do Not Disturb the moment Javi had cleared the driveway. If he found Her, finally, you didn’t want to know about it.

‘Oh, I…needed to concentrate,’ you said. You realised your eyes were stinging and you blinked them a few times. How long had you been bent over your laptop? Too long, judging by the squawk of protest from your shoulders when you moved.

‘You’re breaking your back for this guy again?’ Karla asked. She knew, or at least she suspected with the benefit of very good evidence, that you didn’t work so hard for Javi because you cared about his next big movie production. Balancing the books for a multi-billion-dollar company wasn’t your job, either. But you knew that Javi had been taken advantage of before, by his own family no less, and you just liked to keep an eye on things to make sure he could trust his accountants.

‘I have a business degree, I gotta use it somehow,’ you said, and you heard Karla laugh. ‘What did you want, anyway?’

‘I was calling to see if you wanted to go out tonight, but I’m pretty sure I know the answer.’

‘Mmm,’ you agreed. You felt your stomach protest, remembering that you had forgotten to eat lunch. Javi had a way of making your tummy flip that made it difficult to want to add food to the equation.

‘He’s out again, on the hunt?’ Karla asked, gently, because she could read your mind even through the phone and that was why you loved her.

‘Mmm,’ you said, again, this time trying to sound blasé.

‘And you’re not waiting around for him to come home to see if he’s hit the jackpot?’

‘Mmm-mmm,’ you said, shaking your head for the benefit of absolutely no one.

‘Course not,’ Karla replied. ‘Will you at least go eat something?’

‘How did you…’

‘Could hear your stomach grumbling from here,’ she cut you off, and you grinned. You paused, feeling the smile slide off your face.

‘Do you think he’s ever going to stop looking?’ you asked, and you heard how wistful you sounded, how sad, your voice failing to cover for you.

‘Honestly?’ Karla said, and you held your breath, waiting for her to answer. ‘No, that man is determined and he gets what he wants.'

‘He put the ad in the paper,’ you said, ‘and he went on Late Night and showed his mark on TV.’

‘And how many fakers did that bring out of the woodwork? The cheap tattoos? That one lady who Sharpied hers on and didn’t think he’d try wiping it?’

You scoffed at that. She had lasted all of three minutes, and it was three minutes too long in your opinion. His security teams had received a talking to after that.

‘I don’t like seeing him… like this,’ you said, and you meant distracted and not able to attend important meetings, making you grovel for reschedules. Of course that’s what you meant. ‘He was so disheartened when all that publicity didn’t work.’

‘Kind of makes me grateful I don’t have one, to be honest,’ Karla said. You made your way to Javi’s kitchen, untouched by anyone except for his chef, and scrounged around for something with which to make yourself a sandwich. ‘I think he’ll do all this dating, and he won’t find Her, but he’ll find a girl nice enough, or gorgeous enough, and he’ll make do.’

‘Some stunning influencer.’

‘6 foot tall, waist tiny enough to wrap one hand around,’ Karla agreed.

‘Rich lady hair. Tits up to her chin,’ you added, after a thought.

‘She’ll have a PhD in neuroscience, and something in Law’ Karla giggled, ‘and she’ll volunteer for the UNHCR.’

‘And she won’t know how beautiful she is, she just will be.’

‘She’ll pop out twins and be…wait are we just describing Amal Clooney?’

‘We…we might be,’ you conceded.

‘I met her once, she was lovely.’

‘Of course she fucking was,’ you said, an ache blooming at your temples you were worried would turn into a full-on migraine. Karla was right. That was absolutely the kind of woman Javi would end up with, should end up with, if there was any justice in the universe. You knew this. Of course you knew this.

‘I’m gonna go meet my Not The One But Good Enough,’ Karla decided.

‘Put the sock on the doorknob,’ you reminded her, and she remained on the line long enough to scoff at you before she was gone. She was your best friend.

You turned back to the cupboards, considering your options. The kitchen was well stocked, but it was an ingredient kitchen. You just wanted a box of mac and cheese, not to have to roll the pasta yourself. You sighed.

‘That was dramatic,’ you heard a voice behind you, and you swivelled fast enough to make yourself dizzy.

‘Mr Gutierrez!’ you said, his voice honeyed but his eyes sad in the light from above the stove. ‘You’re back early.’

You watched as he sighed, plonking himself down at the table. Behind him a storm threatened to blow in over the ocean. You felt your stomach sink for him.

‘She was not the One,’ he said, and you nodded.

‘Not even the Not the One But Good Enough?’ you asked, and he shook his head.

You knew Javi. Despite Karla’s predictions, you knew he was uncompromising in getting what he wanted, that he had enough money in the world to engineer any career, any dream for himself but this one thing, this one missing piece, that was nevertheless evading him. He wasn’t the type to settle, even if it would make him reasonably happy. You knew this, too.

‘I do not know how to describe it, just that I knew she was not Her.’

You stayed by the cupboard, not wanting to interrupt his reverie, not sure if you should intrude. It almost seemed as though he forgot you were there, until he snapped his eyes to you. ‘What are you doing hiding in the kitchen?’

‘I didn’t have dinner…’ you said, and he slapped his forehead.

‘I forgot!’ he exclaimed, standing and running out of the room. You followed, because it seemed urgent, and because of course you did. You watched as he ran to the garage, disappearing into the darkness before you heard a car door slam.

‘Sorry, Cariño, I was just so upset about the girl, but it should still be warm. I will heat it for you.’

‘Mr Gutierrez, no, I can…’ you said, not wanting to remind him of the last time he tried to heat up leftovers, including his Great Grandmother’s silver serving spoon.

‘I know, Cariño, no silverware,’ he tutted at you, and you once again found yourself tagging along behind him.

‘Now you know,’ you said under your breath, and you heard him giggle.

So caught up in chasing him down, as per usual, you didn’t even look at what was in his hands until he produced a plate and served it. You had been expecting a half-eaten chocolate cake, maybe some bread and an unwanted appetiser, but what greeted you was an intricate dish, seafood and delicate squares of polenta, a garnish of radish and dill. You looked, as subtly as possible, for any bite marks and found none.

‘The chef recommended it as his favourite,’ he explained, his eyebrows saddling as he watched your reaction. ‘You eat fish, yes?’

You nodded, dumbly. ‘How did you know that I would…’

‘You’re always working late, Cariño. You think I do not notice but I do.’

You felt heat in your chest, your belly flipping again. This time, though, the smell of the food wafting gently over your nostrils was enough to overcome it. You were embarrassed to find your mouth watering.

‘Thank you, Mr Gutierrez,’ you said, warmth in your eyes as you looked at him. He smiled, pleased.

‘She did not like the food at all,’ he said, rolling his eyes as he put the plate down in front of you and went to find forks. ‘She did not like to eat.’

‘Well, she’s crazy,’ you said, too impatient to wait for the cutlery and instead diving in with your hands, picking up a polenta square and popping it into your mouth. An explosion of flavour danced across your tongue and you moaned, your eyes closing of their own volition. When you opened them again you saw Javi gazing at you, pink blooming across his cheeks.

‘It is not cold?’ he asked you, his voice oddly strained.

‘No, it’s good, do you want some?’ you asked, reaching down and holding a square out for him. He came forward, tentative, as you placed the food gently on his tongue. You felt an ember of something lighting between your thighs as he savoured it, groaning slightly.

‘Oh, it is heaven,’ he said, still with his eyes closed. You thought for a deranged moment of slipping from your chair and getting down onto your knees for him, wondering if you could make him make him groan like that with his cock in your mouth. You blinked, swallowing harshly. His eyes opened, gently, to gaze down at you.

‘I regret so much about tonight, and now I must also regret that I did not choose this for my own,’ he said, and you smiled at him. He reached for more and you batted his hand away.

‘Mine,’ you growled at him, and he grinned.

‘My hungry little Cariño,’ he said, and the little ember started to catch flame.

He sat beside you, his hand resting on the back of your chair, as you tucked in. So engrossed in the food you didn’t notice he had lapsed into silence until your plate was almost entirely cleared. When you finally remembered he was in the room you took him in.

He was quiet, his chin resting in his other hand as he considered the darkening sky over the ocean. You could see he was deep in thought, a kind of maudlin contemplativeness he was prone to sink into when things didn’t go his way. You wanted to pull him into your arms and wrap your fingers in his curls, soothe whatever troubled him with your lips on his skin.

‘What else do you regret about tonight?’ you asked, bold for someone who was technically talking to her boss. You pulled him from his reverie, but the room remained heavy with the weight of his sadness.

‘Have I gone about this all wrong?’ he asked. You wanted to reach out and smooth the indent where his brows crashed together, wipe the hopelessness off his face once and for all.

‘I don’t know how else you could have gone about it,’ you said, honestly. ‘You’ve gone about it basically every way there is.’

‘The talk show, that was not such a good idea.’

‘It seemed OK at the time, you just forgot people are generally terrible.’

‘A Sharpie, of all things. And it was black.’

You snorted a little. ‘I mean, no marks for execution but you gotta respect the hustle?’

Javi lapsed back into consternation for a while, and you let him. Being with him set your nerves ablaze but also, paradoxically, calmed you in a way that no-one else did. He was your boss, and he was annoying and this quest of his was ruining your standing with quite a few important contacts, but he was also kind, and he was loving, and you imagined that if you were to rest your head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat it would sound like home.

‘She just feels…I do not know how to say it. She just feels…like she’s right there. But I can not grasp her.’

You wanted to reach out and put your hand on his forearm, rub it with your thumb as you cooed into his ear. You needed to get yourself together. You were tired and he was wearing down your resistance by being so sad and so fucking gorgeous at the same time. You cleared your throat.

‘I should head home, it’s late,’ you said, and he nodded.

‘Cariño…’ he suddenly started, grabbing your arm as you went to move away. You pulled it from him, the heat of his touch even through your sleeves scorching. He sat beneath you as you stood over him at the table, his expression changing from sadness to hope to something else, something not quite settled comfortably on his features. ‘You can come in late, if you like. Since you worked late tonight.’

You couldn’t have said how. Maybe just that the look on his face, his hesitation, just by the way he had paused as he gazed up at you, but you just knew he had been going to say something else, had been thinking something else entirely. You wouldn’t ever be able to articulate it. You just knew this, too.

--

You shouldn’t have been surprised. This was what you wanted, after all. So, you could only smile, a little tightly, when Javi bounded into his office one afternoon, uncharacteristically late, and beamed down at you sitting at your desk.

‘You found her,’ you said, ignoring the stone shifting in your belly.

‘No,’ he said, his face suddenly serious, a look of almost remorse crossing his fucking beautiful features. ‘But she is just as good.’

You nodded at him. Fucking Karla had willed this into existence.

‘So, your quest is over?’ you asked, but he was already bouncing on his heels, looking at you with bright eyes and his dimples so sharp he could poke himself. You recalibrated. ‘Tell me the story,’ you said.

‘Oh, Cariño it was like nothing I had expected but somehow it was better.’ He was looking over your head, as if watching the movie of this perfect moment playing back behind his eyes.

‘We do not have the same marks. Hers is different, it is close but a little off on the left side? Anyway, I was at the bar talking to Marco, you remember Marco he financed my last project? So, I was talking to Marco about locations for filming in the Spring, and suddenly there is a tap on my shoulder and a woman…a vision of a woman…tells me if we need a vineyard she has one on the south coast!’

‘She…has a vineyard,’ you repeated, an image of Amal Clooney in a sundress holding a bottle of wine while giving you the finger appearing in your mind.

‘Well, it is her fathers, but I can not exactly complain about that,’ Javi said.

Ah. There it is.

‘And where did she get her law degree?’ you asked, not able to stamp out all the bitterness in your tone before the words escaped your mouth.

‘Eh?’ he asked, and you waved him away.

‘No, nothing, it’s…that’s great. When do I get to meet her?’

‘Cariño, you want to meet her?’ he asked, and he seemed genuinely surprised this, and because of that it was difficult for you to quantify the hurt it caused.

You’d forgotten, you supposed. All the late-night chats, the bringing you dinner, the times you had stood beside him while he worked his way through half of Europe trying to find his one, then most of Hollywood to boot, you thought that there had been a friendship there, something more than a boss and an overworked, underpaid employee. Of course there wasn’t. He was a billionaire and looked like a model and talked with passion about almost everything he encountered. You were…you. You knew this.

‘Well, I need to vet her, Mr Gutierrez,’ you recovered, quickly. ‘Have you done the necessary background checks?’

‘Oh, I do not need those, this is love,’ he said, and you tasted sour over the back of your throat. Your mouth was turning down all on its own, the muscles of your jaw twanging under the strain. You were horrified to realise you were going to cry in front of him if you didn’t get out of there.

‘Mr Gutierrez, I strongly urge you to do the background checks,’ you said, your voice reedy, but he wasn’t listening. You wondered if he ever would again.  

‘We are to holiday in St Tropez,’ he announced. ‘I have just decided. Will you organise the helicopter?’

This time, you didn’t follow him as he strode out the door. You worried, instead, that you had condemned him, and by extension yourself, to a life of disappointment. It had to be this way, you were sure of it, and maybe you were worrying over nothing. Maybe this vineyard-inheriting goddess could make him happy, in the end.

Almost unconsciously you lifted your sleeve, your fingers tracing idly over your mark. You knew Javi’s so well. It mirrored your own.

--

‘He’s going to fucking marry her,’ you predicted, genuine misery in your chest nearly as heavy as the four pints of ice-cream you’d put in your belly. The Ben and Jerry’s had been Karla’s idea, and only now were you slightly regretting it.

‘Oh, fuck her, and fuck him too,’ Karla said, waving melting Triple Caramel Chunk in the air. ‘She’s probably got a stick so far up her arse she can’t bend over without getting a splinter.’

You snickered at this, the cruelty of it appealing to your whispering dark corners.

‘Daddy’s got a vineyarrrrrd,’ you intoned, affecting a truly awful sort-of-British accent.

‘DADDY! GET ME MORE VIIIIIIINES!’ Karla yelled, and now you were laughing so hard you were in real danger of asphyxiation.

‘DADDY! I’M TIRED OF THIS MANSION BUY ME ANOTHER ONE!’ you joined in, through hiccups of laughter and an errant burp.

You both paused for a moment, catching your breath. In the quiet the sadness seeped back in.

‘I still don’t understand why you don’t show him,’ Karla said, after a while. You sighed.

‘It’s not meant to be,’ you repeated for the hundredth time.

‘How can it not meant to be? You’re marked.’

‘Because he’s just…his life is completely different. I don’t fit into it, in any capacity.’

‘You do in one capacity,’ Karla said, nodding her head to your wrist.

‘He would be disappointed,’ you said, eventually, and Karla sighed.

‘You said when you saw him it was like lightning bolts?’ she asked, and you nodded. ‘You don’t think he felt that, too?’

‘I know he didn’t, because he didn’t react at all. It was like he didn’t see me. He just…employed me.’

‘But that doesn’t mean…’

‘Karla, I love you, but you need to listen to me on this one. There were no turtle doves, no petals falling from the sky. He saw me and he shook my hand, and he said, “welcome to my staff, it is lovely to have you” and then he was gone. The whole soulmates thing, they don’t mention that crushing, ridiculous privilege will override it. He didn’t feel anything for me because there was too much money and status in the way.’

You were dangerously close to tears again, the helplessness and the grief washing back over your bones. To your relief Karla just nodded at you, extending a cold hand to rest on your knee. You immediately shucked her off. ‘Ice-cream hands,’ you muttered, and she smiled.

‘I just…I just feel like, shouldn’t he have the choice? To decide for himself?’ she asked, and you shrugged.

‘It’s better this way. He’s found Little Miss Vineyard. He says it’s…he thinks it’s good enough, clearly. That’s good for him.’

‘What about you, bub?’ Karla asked, and you were going to protest, going to tell her that it didn’t matter, that you were happy he was happy, that maybe the one act of love you could do for your soulmate was to just stay out of his way, but for some reason that night the words died on your tongue. You swallowed down their corpses, feeling them curdle alongside ice-cream in your belly.

‘I’ll be OK,’ you said, and you knew the more times you said it, the more likely you would, one day, believe.

--

Javi and Vineyard were gone for the next ten days, which was enough time for you to harden your heart again and get back down to business. You decided, in the spirit of change and new beginnings, to finally bust out the black Amex card Javi insisted you keep in your drawer ‘for emergencies’ and renovated his office, deciding the mid-century brothel vibe didn’t suit a seaside setting. You were going to do modern coastal, you decided, using company time to browse furniture websites and considering the merit of rattan in a professional setting. You were going to do coastal, and you were going to do a fresh start and you were going to do healing. One decorative seashell at a time.

What you didn’t anticipate, though, so insistent on a new office kit out and by extension a new personality, was that everything would arrive flat-packed. The groundsmen faked bad backs, and the security team were pretty adamant their jobs didn’t extend to Allen keys, and so you found yourself down on your knees, sweat sticking your hair to your forehead, trying to beg the lug nut to sit flush on the dowel, whatever the fuck that was. It was this moment, of course, because the Universe was clearly punishing you for an egregious wrong doing in a past life that Javi, of fucking course, wafted back in.

‘Cariño?’ he said, uncertainly, to the lower half of your body.

‘Mmph,’ you responded, a screw held tight between your lips. ‘-ust a sc-nd Mr Git-er-ez,’ you muttered.

‘What are you doing? Where are my things?’ he asked, and you felt your shoulders drop. You took the screw from your mouth, deciding that four equal table legs that all touched the ground was so last year, and got up on your knees.

‘I wanted to surprise you,’ you said, and you looked around at the detritus of your efforts; the bubble wrap, the ripped-open boxes, the two successfully constructed armchairs that took you the better part of the morning to assemble. ‘I thought, a fresh new look for your new love,’ you lied, and watched as his eyebrows shot up.

‘This was all my father’s,’ he said, gesturing to where the old furniture was stacked up against the back wall. You swallowed. You probably should have known that.

‘I…’ you started to apologise, but he cut you off.

‘It was never my style. But I never knew what my style was until…this…’ he said. ‘This is perfect, Cariño. How did you know?’

Your mark tingled and you pulled your sleeve down tight over your wrist.

‘I thought about what I would like and did the opposite,’ you lied again, and he laughed, clapping his hands in delight.

‘My brilliant Cariño,’ he said, and it would have been kinder if he’d just shot you on the spot. You felt the burn and ache in your chest. You wondered what cute little pet names he called Vineyard. But he was coming towards you, getting down on his knees in a way that made your breath catch in your throat.

‘I will assist,’ he announced, in that way he had where there was just no arguing with him.

‘Why do I feel like you have never, in your life, put together flat-pack furniture?’ you asked, and he grinned at you.

‘You know me so well,’ he said, and you really fucking did.

It took an hour and a half, but by the end of your toiling you and Javi had the legs on the desk, all four and all the same length. It turned out if the dowel didn’t sit properly you could just whack it really hard with a paperweight. The things you learned working for Javi.

You stood together, appraising the upturned desk.

‘So, I guess we just each get on the other end and…flip it?’ you suggested.

‘It looks heavy,’ he said, his brows furrowed in concentration.

‘It is, I got the really expensive one,’ you said, and smiled at him when he looked at you, questioningly.

‘You spoiled me?’ he said, and you scoffed.

‘One way to think of it,’ you said, not wanting to tell him you’d paid with glee thinking somehow this might put a little dent in his amour somewhere, knowing that of course it wouldn’t, but feeling the vindication anyway.

‘Ok, Cariño, you get on that end and then I think we…put it on its side?’ he asked, and you nodded at him.

‘Yeah, roll it that way,’ you said, gesturing to your left as you leant down.

‘That way?’ Javi asked, gesturing with his head to his left, not yours, but you weren’t watching him.

‘Mmmhmm,’ you hummed, bracing yourself to lift. Was it lift with your knees to protect your back? Squat? That seemed like it would strain more…

‘1…2…3…’ you counted, hefting the desk to the left while Javi hoisted to the right. It immediately corkscrewed, rolling out of your hand and twisting your wrist as it thudded to the ground. You screamed in surprise and then blooming pain, holding your wrist in your hand as if you could repair it with just your grip.

‘Cariño!’ Javi called, vaulting over the desk and at your side in an instant, reaching out to grasp your wrist. He moved so quickly, so agile over to you that you didn’t have time to react. He pulled up your sleeve to get a better look, turning your wrist towards him to inspect it.

‘Wait, wait…’ you said, as your mark gently rotated into his view.

He froze. You closed your eyes for a moment, terrified to look at him, before you heard his sharp intake of breath. You opened your eyes again to see him examining it, lifting your wrist closer to him to properly inspect it.

‘Cariño…’ he whispered, and you swallowed acid over your raw throat.

‘I can explain,’ you said, but you couldn’t really. He finally lifted his eyes to yours, as if remembering for the first time the mark was attached to a person, and you watched as the confusion on his face crumbled away to a sorrow deep enough you thought he might stop your heart.

‘You knew,’ he said, his voice soft and dripping in betrayal. ‘All this time, you stood and watched…and you never said a thing.’

‘Mr Gutierrez…’ you whispered, not knowing where to even start. He was right, of course he was right, but you had never intended to tell him, had never allowed yourself to imagine the conversation unfolding around you in this moment. The hurt bloomed on his face, and you felt tears start to well at your waterline. You blinked them back.

‘The whole time. You knew,’ he said.

You did, you had known. So many things you had known.

‘I…’ you started, but he was moving, standing up and backing away from you, out towards the door. You looked away as he left you, like you always did. You knew now it would be the last time.

--

This was beyond even Ben and Jerry’s. Karla mostly left you to it, the unique weight of the pain at having hurt your soulmate indescribable. You had read that it was possible, when you finally made the connection, that you could feel their feelings as richly and as closely as your own. The combined weight of your sadness crushed you, pulverised you, such that you could barely think straight. Karla brought you easy food; toast and bananas and chicken soup, and you ate it all without tasting, only feeding your meat suit purely for maintenance, and didn’t allow yourself to remember the taste of the fish Javi brought back to you; his soulmate and his traitor.

You resigned, immediately. In writing, in an email that was never replied to. Each day you scrolled Instagram for news of the inevitable engagement to Vineyard. You held your phone in one hand while you rubbed at your aching mark with the other.

You knew, there were stories, of divorcing soulmates. It was rare but sometimes circumstances overcame even destiny, even biology. Sometimes people died, leaving their soulmates behind. You spent time on message boards reading the stories of people who had lost their connections, of people who had woken up one day and felt the mark cold to the touch, had known in their hearts then and there that their mate was gone. Some had felt it before they had found their matches. They struggled the most; the what ifs, the could-have-beens.

You considered that maybe it was a blessing that you at least knew it was Javi. It would stop you looking for the rest of your life, stop you having to check the wrist of every man you met, second guess any minimal attraction you might have felt to another.

Karla sat on the end of the couch as you stared out the window, the TV on but unwatched in front of you.

‘You love him,’ she said, simply, and you nodded. Heartsick, you didn’t have the words.

‘From the first moment,’ you agreed.

‘No, but it’s deepened, the more time you’ve spent with him,’ she observed. You nodded again before lifting your knees to your chest and resting your cheek there. If you closed your eyes and really tried you could conjure the memory of his cologne, could imagine you rested your head on his chest.

--

A couple of weeks passed. You couldn’t be sure how many. You got off the couch, the thrumming hurt of your heart and your mark lessening somewhat as the days went on. You checked it every morning for its warmth, relieved not to find it cold, and you wondered if your lessening sadness was really just that Javi was moving on with Vineyard. That now you were starting to lose his connection you could be left to your own miserable devices. You considered that this was inevitable, that the ending you had been expecting probably ran pretty close to this. You hated that you had hurt him, though. You had only ever intended to fade into the background before he noticed you were gone.

You applied for another job, this one far less glamorous but less likely to utterly gut you. On the mainland, doing some general bookkeeping and executive assistance for a CEO of a small manufacturing firm. It would be simple work, and you were a shoo-in, subject to a satisfactory referee check. You hovered over the form naming Javi as your previous employer.  In the end you named his business manager, leaving the details for him to fill in.

Your reference check came back within the hour. Glowing. You were offered the job.

Your first week was good, then your first fortnight. You received your first pay-check with gratitude, even though it was almost half what Javi had been paying you. You felt good to be productive again, to be able to put some of your skills to good use. You didn’t have to trail behind your boss as he blew off any and all obligations for some flight of fancy. You spent considerably less time discussing Face/Off.

It was fine, you were fine. It was going to be fine. You were aware, distantly, that you were probably heaving in denial and numbness, and it suited you, so you let it.

Except when you woke on what you thought would be a normal Thursday, your mark burning so hot you gasped awake, reaching for it to check it hadn’t been seared into your skin. Holding it up to the light it looked the same. Karla checked it and confirmed it seemed to the same temperature as the rest of you. Just your nerves were screaming, perceiving a flame not visible to the eye.

You googled, checking message boards, searched ‘burning marks’. There was nothing, which you weren’t sure was a good or a bad thing, worried for a moment you would pull up results from those who had lost their spouses, the burning mark serving as a premonition of the horrors to come. You slathered burn cream on it, which did nothing, took an anti-inflammatory or two and considered calling in sick. In the end you decided against it, because you weren’t sick sick, you were heartsick, and somehow that just didn’t feel anywhere near as real.

On the ferry over to the mainland you considered lowering your arm into the ocean water, the cool of the water maybe able to provide some relief. You would have to get down on your knees in your work skirt, on the wet and not particularly clean ferry floor. You considered it longer than you cared to admit.

In your office the heat from your mark started travelling up your arm and you started googling ‘infections of the blood and skin’ and ‘septicaemia’. You wondered if it was an allergic reaction, if perhaps you had run your arm through some kind of heinous plant, and you wondered if the office had an epi-pen in the first aid kit. You googled if it was bad to use one if you weren’t actually in anaphylactic shock. The internet was pretty damning of the idea.

You wondered if you needed to go the local emergency care clinic, was just debating asking your boss for the afternoon off, when a shadow darkened the door.

‘Cariño?’ it said, a perfect Javi-shaped silhouette as the sun streamed in from behind.

‘Mr Gutierrez?’ you asked, gasping immediately as your mark pulsed, the heat shooting down your arm and into your chest. Was it a stroke? How were you supposed to know if it was a stroke?

‘My Cariño,’ he said, stepping forward into your little office and somehow crowding all the space. His cologne wafted over to you, and you felt the warmth of it spread over your nostrils and down into your blood. You wavered a little on your feet.

‘I’m so sorry,’ you said, stepping back from him as he advanced, feeling the sudden urge to keep space between you, not to let him to get too close, knowing that if got within arms reach you would pull him into you, wrap his arms around your back and your legs over his hips, never detach yourself from him, sink your lips over his neck and taste his pulse through his skin.

‘Cariño…’ he said, but you interrupted him, the searing heat of your mark now making its way to your racing heart.

‘I thought you would be happier with someone more like you… I thought it was a kindness, that you would feel something for someone that would be enough to make you happy. And I only ever wanted you to be happy, you have to understand that I did it so that you could be happy…’ you trailed off, the words spilling out of you now, distracted by the flames in your chest. ‘Karla said I should tell you, let you choose, and I know now that she was right, I think I always knew she was right, but the idea that you wouldn’t choose me, I wasn’t sure I could survive it, so I didn’t let you. It was selfish and it wasn’t very brave and I know I hurt you, and I never wanted to…’ you felt tears on your cheeks, marvelled at them, at how they could appear unbidden. You weren’t sure you were breathing. You weren’t fully convinced you were alive.

‘Cariño…’ he tried again, taking another step towards you but you held your hand up, your aching mark now uncovered.

‘Please, please…I don’t think I can…’ you started, but you didn’t know how to finish. You didn’t think you could stand it if he’d come here to just finally end things. To tell you he was going to marry Vineyard but wanted a clear conscience first. Wanted to let you down easy, in person. Was your mark burning because he was furious with you? He mostly just seemed nervous.

‘Let me speak, Cariño, oh my god,’ he muttered, his patience rapidly running out. You stopped short. ‘I know. I mean, not at first. At first, I did not understand, but I thought about what you must have been feeling, how you must have thought of me.’

‘No, I…’

‘The silly man who runs around causing you problems.’

‘No…’ you started, but he kept talking, despite you.

‘But then I thought harder, and I felt more.’ He gestured to his mark, the perfect match for yours. ‘I was not angry, Cariño, I could never be angry at you. I was sad, I think, that I had failed you.’

You shook your head, the words failing you.

‘I felt more into the mark…I do not think I am making any sense. But I thought of you, my Cariño, I think I heard you in my head a little bit, and I thought of your beautiful heart, and I knew why you did it.’

‘You did?’

At this he shrugged, honest and raw. ‘Of course I did, you are my One.’

‘Why did I do it?’ you asked him, genuinely still trying to settle it for yourself.

‘Because you love, and this is how you show it. You put others first. You always have.’ You nodded. This was true. ‘I see that about you, Cariño. What do you see about me?’

You answered immediately. ‘I see a man who feels deeply and freely, who is passionate about what he wants… who usually gets it.’

‘Usually?’ he asked. You noticed for the first time that, since he had started talking, he had also been moving towards you. That if you reached out to him, and he reached out to you, skin would meet skin.

‘Always,’ you said, grinning.

He nodded. ‘It is true, I will not lie,’ he said. ‘I get what I want.’

He took another step, and this time you stayed put.

‘You don’t hate me? You’re not mad? All those dates…’ you asked, and he shook his head.

‘I knew,’ he said, devastating you in two words.

‘You did?’ you asked, with the little breath you still had.

‘Some part of me knew, yes,’ he nodded. His brows were crashing together now, his face so earnest, so open, as he inched towards you like he was trying not to spook a bear. Later you would realise the closer he was to you the less your mark burned. You could smell him this close, more than his cologne but the clean, crisp scent that was just his skin, just Javi.

‘All of those women, Cariño. In all of those women I looked for you.’

You didn’t think. Nothing about it was conscious. You just felt the firework explode in your chest and moved to him, letting him pull you into his arms and kiss you, his lips searching and little muffled whimpers matching your own. It wasn’t just a kiss, it was a melding, a coming together. It was something right and essential slotting into place, a line item checked off on the Universe’s ledger. You gasped into his mouth, your knees weak, your pulse heavy at your throat. His skin on yours. He reached up a hand to cup your jaw, pulling you closer into him.

‘Javi…’ you whispered, and he groaned a little.

‘Say it again,’ he said, and you did.

[reallyromealone]

May I request an omega verse where kiribaku adopts omega son pls? thank you!

Adoption

Kirishima x Bakugo w/ child male reader

I gotchu, this took longer than expected ngl

Fluff, baby/toddler reader, male reader, alpha Bakugo, alpha kirishima, Omega reader

🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑

Alpha/Alpha couples were more and more common these days, especially in the hero world "a kid?" Kirishima was curious as Bakugo shrugged "a brat would be nice, we have the space and our agency is thriving.." Bakugo said not making eye contact with his mate who looked at him with so much love "it's like you read my mind~" the Alpha said hugging the other who scoffed "whatever shitty hair"

Days turned to weeks and before they knew it they were at an orphanage where a bunch of kids were running around "welcome! The Kirishima-Bakugo family yes?" The orphanage headmaster asked curiously and the two nodded "yeah that's us!" Kirishima said happily and Bakugo grunted "wonderful, sign the sign in forms and if I could please see ID as confirmation?" The two handed over their IDs and the headmaster scanned them "excellent! Why don't I give you two a tour yes? And then you can meet the children?"

The building was nice, up to date and the children were healthy "so what age range are you looking for? Secondary gender?"

"We were hoping to just click with one and go from there" Bakugo let his mate do the talking as kids looked at them curiously "I see, well let's go to the play area and you can interact with the children"

Walking into the play area, kids were all over the place but one caught Bakugos attention, a small pup grabbed his pant leg "oh hello (name)" the headmaster smiled "he's one of the younger ones, only one and a half" they said and fixed the boys pants "he's a happy little Omega but isn't the most talkative but the other kids don't seem to mind" they explain as (name) raised his little arms to be held by Bakugo who lifted him "what ya want squirt?" He asked the babe who grabbed his nose with a smile.

Kirishima noticed the look in his mates eyes, the connection he instantly developed with the tiny pup who didn't even know he had the number three hero around his tiny little finger.

The three spent the day hanging with the little pup who showed him all the toys he liked to play with, having a red riot toy and a Mickey mouse toy seemingly running or robbing a bakery "very cool bud" kirishima said and (name) beamed at this.

The two made visits at any chance they could as the process started for the adoption, expedited thanks to their hero status and rank, the two already setting up a bedroom for the tyke.

"Yeah it's for you" Bakugo said as he handed the tot a scented Dynamite plush, to help get the little one familiar with their scents as parents which thankfully (name) was incredibly receptive to as he clung to both of them regularly.

"Thanks squirt" Bakugo said as they sat with the little one who handed the blond a toy slice of cake, the three gathered at a toy kitchen and (name) didn't seem to know exactly what he was doing but was having fun none the less "his belongings have been packed, he's ready when you guys are" the two heroes looked elated as kirishima lifted his /son/ high up, the tiny Omega squealing in delight at the action.

It was never easy saying goodbye, the headmaster knew this but they put a strong face as they bud their goodbyes to the tiny pup who mimicked the wave as his little head rested on bakugos shoulder.

They were always worried about (name) getting adopted, male omegas weren't the highest for adoptability not to mention the boy hasn't even developed a quirk yet, sadly many parents didn't want a quirkless child...

(Name) held onto the plush of his dad as he was set down in the apartment, the little Omega inspecting things and waddling around and making little sounds as he sniffed his little nose, clearly happy to be around the two alphas scents-- recognizing that they are his dad's. "Wanna see your room?" Kirishima gently took (name)s tiny hand and led him to his new room, (name) made noises as he looked around and turned to his dads who looked at him fondly "yeah it's yours shorty" Bakugo said, a sense of calm washing over him as they watched the babe look around...before dragging a throw blanket to a corner and ditching it.

The two alphas were confused as little (name) took random soft things and put them in the corner and just stared at it before looking at his dad's happily as if he just did something incredible "is that...?" "A nest? I think so" the two were incredibly proud of their pup and snapped a few pictures of this, kirishima on the verge of tears at how precious it was.

(Name) felt like that last piece of the puzzle as followed his dad's around happily.

They just worried how he would handle all his aunt's and uncles.

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

Still thinking about that person that had a problem with the 'Hobie would be Pro-Palestine' post because it's 'tasteless to inject functional characters into real life politics'

Cause it's like my buddy. my guy.

I don't know how to tell you this but Hobie would fucking hate Zionists. He'd fucking hate them.

We visibly see Hobie throwing glass bottles at riot police he'd obviously back Palestinian children throwing rocks at the gun-wielding tank-covered militant arm of their oppressors DUH

ALSO he'd back the dissolution of the UK for a Free Scotland and a United Ireland. He'd fucking hate monarch loyalists. Also also he thinks Margaret Thatchers grave is a toilet

Also also also he's murdered a cop by choice because they were a cop like come on man

I get it, you want to keep the conversation grounded and serious because it's based in real world traumas and atrocities.

If this was Barney or something maybe it'd be a different conversation

but it's Hobie Brown. Let's think about this please.

We're all like 'Weeeeee I'm so happy we have a real punk character now!!'

And then we start talking about real punk stuff and it's 'what nooo don't do that that's disrespectful'

Changed your mind real quick, huh? Changed lanes no blinker on. PLEASE STOP.

Are you surprised that punks are a fan of a punk character and are using him for punk agendas? That caught you off guard? THAT threw you off your game?? Come on now.

We as fans of Hobie have a RIGHT to appropriate him for leftist punk causes cause he's made in our image. We can use him however we what so long as it adheres the moral foundations of punk.

Hobies for the people.

Also if this post makes you angry

[ashbye]

Fashion Show

-Look y'all I know I've been gone but I had a vision ok it came to me while I was doing yard work and I had to so enjoy. There's plot guys 🤚😔

Summary: While on a run you find something that would be the perfect surprise for Daryl. You show him and are very happy with the outcome.

-It's smutty oops 18+ 🤭 and not beta read. There's swearing so prepare yourselves. I HATE THE WORD PANTIES SO IM NOT WRITING IT! Unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it)

-Alexandria era (probably) and I am a women so its she/her (sorry)

It had been a while since you'd gone outside of the walls so you jumped at the chance to go on a run. Although you had wanted Daryl to join you he was unfortunately busy. Maggie and Michonne were joining you today so you can't complain.

After gathering the needed weapons and equipment you headed with the girls to a mall nearby that hadn't been checked thoroughly yet.

You got to the mall in record time with Michonne driving. Grabbing your machete in your hand and putting your gun in its holster, you got out of the car walking to the entrance behind Maggie.

"Why are we back here again I thought some guys had cleared it out already?" You asked turning to Michonne.

"They said there was too many walkers to get too far in do we're checking again."

You turned towards the door with a hum sound and raised your machete, walking into the mall. After scoping out the front the three of you found the mall to be almost completely empty aside from a few stray walkers that could be taken care of when you came across them.

Maggie turned to you both, "I say we split up, cover more ground."

You nodded before walking ahead as you all separated. Most stores you had looked through had been cleared out over time. There was a shirt here, a pair of socks there, but other than that it was a bit of a bust.

Until you saw a sign to a store ahead of you to your right. "No fucking way..."

You picked up the walkie talkie on your hip and called to Maggie and Michonne. "You guys are not gonna believe what I just found."

"What is it?" Michonne asked urgency in her tone.

"Either of you need any new bras?"

"Obviously, why?" Maggie was incredibly confused by now. You laughed before responding again.

"Go straight and take a right you'll find me. You need to see it to believe it." You put the walkie back after hearing Michonne say she's on her way.

You turn to the approaching footsteps and laugh. "Isn't it great? A Victoria Secret practically over flowing with unused bras and underwear!" Maggie smirked at you "You wanna find something special for Daryl huh?"

Michonne laughed at your expense but you couldn't care less because you're pretty sure you've been wearing the same bra for 2 months now.

And, duh of course you're gonna find stuff for Daryl. You're a loving girlfriend why wouldn't you get a present for him when you're on a run?

"Uh hell yeah I am! If I can find something to make me look sexy for my man of course I'm gonna take it!" You speed walk into the store with the girls following you chuckling.

You hold up a beautiful red set. It's lace would compliment her skin perfectly, you think. "Michonne, if you don't take this home for Rick, I will riot." You hold up to the girls so they can look at it.

"Oh please get that!" Maggie practically begs Michonne. "Alright I'll take it!" Michonne says with a smikr on her face after holding it up to her body.

The rest of the 'shopping spree' goes similarly, with you each holding up sheer and lace bras and panties for the others to take home and wear.

You found quite a few for yourself to surprise Daryl with later. You carefully put them in your bag with a smile.

After your escapade at Victoria Secret you all successfully grabbed every useful thing you could find and packed it into the car.

You were almost shaking with excitement when you got home, the clothes feeling like a thousand pounds in your bag.

It wasn't until everything you found that day was sorted through and put where it was supposed to be that you could go back home to Daryl. You walked through the door calling out to him that you were back. "Hey Darlin'. How was the run?" The familiar gravelly voice said from behind you.

You turned to him with a smile and placed your hands on his hips. You gave him a long kiss with a smile. "It went really well. I have a surprise for you actually." You pulled away from his face with only a few inches of space between you two.

"Surprise?" He asked with a vaguely shocked face.

You hummed with a smirk on your face. "Yeah after dinner I'll show you what your present is."

"So it's an after dinner kinda gift huh?"

You nodded before pulling away from him to hide the gifts in your bedroom. "I promise it'll be worth the wait."

It's now dark outside and Daryl is sitting on the front porch smoking a cigarette. You walk up to him and sit down, leaning your head on his shoulder with a sigh.

You sit in silence for a moment before looking up at him. "Are you ready for your surprise Dar?"

He blew smoke out of his mouth before taking the cigarette from between his lips. "Hell yeah baby." He said before grabbing your hand and pulling you up with him.

You lead him to your bedroom with a laugh excitement flowing through both of your veins. Once the door was closed behind you both you turned and gave him a searing kiss. He grabbed your hips tightly with a hum in the back of his throat.

You slowly pulled away and pushed him onto the side of the bed. "I'm gonna give you a little fashion show. How does that sound?"

He looked up at you with a slight nod before you gently slid away from him. You went to the bathroom and put on the first set you got. It was white lace with a black lace flower pattern.

You slowly cracked the door to stick out your head. "You ready?"

"Been ready Darlin'."

The door was slowly pulled away to showcase your body that you had draped across the doorframe. You smirked at him when you saw his eyes slightly widen.

"What do you think Dar?" You slowly turned you body to show him the whole thing.

"Well shit..." he was almost speechless. He wasn't sure how long he'd last. And this was only the first one!

You walked toward him and placed your hands on his shoulders. "You like it?" Your smirk had yet to wipe from your face.

"I- uh yeah ya look-" he could barely even get the words out. He could only look up and down your body with lust clouding his brain.

"I have a couple more for you to take a look at." You pulled away from him and walked back to the bathroom, closing the door behind you. Daryl could barely process the fact that you even left the room.

Meanwhile, you're giggling to yourself like a schoolgirl in the bathroom at the look on his face. Once you were ready you opened the door again, looking at Daryl.

This time you're wearing a dark purple set. It had sheer lace with small lime green polka dots. "What do you think about this one? It's a little different." You said, walking up to Daryl.

"I like it." He said, eating you with his eyes like you were his last meal. You chuckled at him before doing a spin.

He nodded his head looking like his head was in the clouds. You gave his cheek a kiss with a small smile on your face. Walking backwards to the bathroom you closed the door and prepared the next one.

You walked out wearing a pale yellow lace set that had cute little bows on the front. It was less revealing but Daryl liked it just as much as the others. You could only stare as you walked up to him. Completely mesmerized with how beautiful you looked.

He wanted to worship you like a goddess. He would kneel at your altar for the rest of eternity if it meant that you would give him even a fraction of the love and elegance you grace him with everyday. You could be covered in blood and walker guts or be wearing the prettiest pale yellow lingerie he's ever seen and he would still think you're the most exquisite women he's ever seen.

"Ya're beautiful." He said, it was the only thing the connection between his brain and mouth could compute.

And you were just fine with that.

"Yeah?" You ask with a big smile on your face. He nods with a small raspy yeah that makes you chuckle. "If this one is your favorite I'll keep it on so you can make love to me or fuck me however you want."

"However I want?" He seemed almost surprised.

"However you want. We can be all slow and tender or you can fuck me so dumb I'm cock drunk. How does that sound?"

Daryl couldn't even come up with words before he stood to full height in front of you and grabbed under thighs. He turned and layed you on your back, pressing his mouth to yours in a heated kiss. His hands ran up and down your legs searching for a hold.

Your arms wrapped around his neck as a moan left your mouth. Your tongues pressed together and you gave him all control. Daryl moved you up so your head was on the pillow. He took off his vest and threw it to the side before movie his mouth to your neck. He left kisses and bites up the column of your throat.

Small sighs left your mouth and your hands ran up and down his chest. Your fingers started unbuttoning his shirt and pushed it off his shoulders. You threw his shirt off to the side and it's lost to floor somewhere with his vest.

His hand made it's way up to the band of your underwear. His fingers slipped past the band and pulled it away from you skin. You yelped when Daryl let it snap back onto your skin.

His hand finally sunk past the band of your underwear and grazed your clit. You let out a sigh and brought you hand to his face to bring your lips to his. He let out a groan when you lightly bit his lip. Your leg jolted as he continued to make small circles on your clit.

You moaned again and pulled away from his lips as his fingers dipped down. "Dar please!" Left your mouth like a mantra as you gripped his shoulders and your legs pulled him closer.

"Hold on Darlin' gotta make sure ya're good and ready yeah?" His movements became faster as he felt you're pussy grip his fingers. You nod as moans leave your mouth from the feeling.

"Dar I'm gonna-" your sentence went unfinished as you felt the coil in your stomach snap. Daryl kissed you through your orgasm as your body finally relaxed. He gently slid the bottoms down your legs and onto the floor before unclipping you bra and placing it next to it. You were panting under him as his hands went to his pants. He had stripped down before you could even offer any help.

He looked in your eyes as he lined himself up with your cunt. "Ya ready baby?" You nodded as you wrapped your arms around his chest. "Yeah, yeah I'm ready." You said in a reassuring tone.

He slowly slid himself into you. "So wet baby. Taking me so good." He played his body on top of you and used his forearms to hold him over you. You sat with him for a second to get used to his size. With a nod from you he started to slowly grind his hips into yours.

Small whimpers left your mouth as his speed increased. He let out heavy breaths and groans along with his thrusts. "Fuck Dar-" you moaned as you nails dug into his back.

"I got ya baby, I got ya"

His hips got faster as you both got closer to release. Your legs locked around his hips to keep him close. "Please baby, cum inside please!" Your eyes were screwed shut tightly as Daryl's jaw hung open in pleasure.

Your pussy gripped his cock as the coil tightened for the second time tonight. "Come on Darlin' cum for me" he said to you. Your nails dragged down his back leaving angry red lines on his skin.

He let out a groan at the sting as his hips stuttered. "Holy shit Daryl!" You said as your orgasm washed over you completely. The squeezing of pussy sent Daryl over the edge as he finally let go with a loud moan. His head fell next to yours as his hips slowed, helping you ride out the wave of pleasure.

The room was quiet aside from the breaths leaving you and Daryl. He slowly pulled out of you as his cum poured out of you. He kissed your cheek and neck as his had brushed your hair out of your face. "Ya did such a good job Darlin'."

You looked up at him as you softly kissed his lips and held his face in your hand. He rolled onto his back next to you. He turned you with him so your head was on his chest.

After calming down you look up to him with tired eyes. "I love you Daryl Dixon."

He looked to you with pure love and adoration in his eyes, "I love ya too Darlin'. So much."

You layed back on his chest as you held eachother in the quiet of the night. Even though the world had practically ended, you had never felt safer and more loved than you did when you were in Daryl's arms.