#my grandpa just passed earlier today

[mt-gr8]

The worst 72 hours of my life (round 2) completed

[asteroshearts]

Date Night

Itadori tags along for one of your date nights and wonders how you have a completely different Nanami Kento than the rest of the world.

Nanami x Reader

Tags: she/her pronouns, public nudity?, third wheel itadori

"Good evening, we apologize for the wait. Thank you for calling Gyomei's Ginza branch. How may I help you today?"

"Hello." You could never get sick of his voice. "I have a reservation for Nanami at 19:00. I know it's last minute, but can we add another person?"

"That can be done: we can add another chair to the table you selected," the hostess responded. Grinning wildly, you turned in the passenger seat and met your fist with Itadori's. "Do you have any special requests for this party member?"

"Don't include the drink course for him," your husband stated. Broken beams of white light from the street lamps came and went across his glasses as he drove by. "He's a child."

"Of course, will this extra person need a high chair?"

A gasp rang in the car.

"That won't be necessary." Quickly shutting off the call, Nanami huffed as you burst out into giggles at Itadori's sputtering.

"Aw, he's our son, Kennie."

"Nanamin!" his pink-haired student cried from the back seat. "Why did you say that?! Now they're going to think I'm seven or something!"

"You are a child." The man didn't even bother to glance at the rearview mirror.

"Maybe we should've gone with the long con," you teased. "Do you think they would've given us a discount if we said that Yuji-kun was twelve? That could save us a bit of money at a place like this!"

"Do you think I'm broke?" Nanami scoffed before pressing down on the accelerator, taking off in Tokyo.

Itadori hadn't initially planned to crash your date night.

Although they had finished the assignment efficiently, Nanami noticed something was up with the teen despite how quickly they exorcised the curse. From the boy's slouched posture and tucked shoulders, Nanami easily got the boy to confess what was on his mind.

"Oh…it's my grandpa's birthday today…" Eyes facing the ground, his voice suddenly grew quieter. "It's the first time I've ever had it without him."

It would've been so simple to say his monotone condolences, take a step away, and move on with his day. However, one call to you later, you had no problem with inviting Itadori along your night with your husband. In fact, you were even more certain you had married the right man when he asked permission to bring his student and help take Itadori's mind off his late grandfather's birthday.

But, Itadori didn't want to third-wheel at his pseudo-teacher's date, wouldn't that be kinda weird?

Nanamin seemed just, so – well – cold. Don't get him wrong, he enjoyed the man as a mentor, but to tag along for a date? He wasn't sure how the blond managed to score a pretty girl like you as his wife, but he didn't want to spend a night with you while Nanami silently ate at his side.

However, when he brought it up to the group chat that Nanami might be paying for his meal at this place called "Gyomei", Nobara yelled at him loud enough that he could hear it through text. A Michelin-starred and free meal was something a teen boy like him couldn't pass up.

"Um!" Itadori called out to you after Nanami had parked in the underground garage of the high-rise you were going to. "Thank you again for inviting me!" Pink coloring his cheeks, you had mentioned earlier when Nanami picked you up that if they didn't allow reservation modifications, you would just let the deposit go and find another spot to have date night at. Not only were they in the most expensive area of Tokyo, but he knew from Gojo's blabbing that Nanami's coveted date nights were never a spontaneous event. They were planned weeks, even months in advance, to get you to the best venues, restaurants, and events. To think that you had just easily let him drag along…touched him more than you realized.

You chuckled at his attempt to bow in the backseat, folding your legs so you could turn in your seat. "It's no problem at all! It's always so fun to talk with you, Yuji-kun! Good thing they let us add another chair though, I've been wanting to try this place forever."

Although, he wondered why you weren't making an effort to get out of the car. Nanamin had parked a while ago, and you still haven't opened your door. Were you waiting for him to pay for your parking spot?

"Yeah! Gojo-sensei tells me these places usually don't allow modifications for reservations."

"Oh. That." Your shoulders fell before a large smile broke out on your face, laughing at your own joke. "Let me tell you a little secret, Yuji-kun." Leaning in closer and lowering your voice, you confessed, "We lie to Gojo."

Huh?

"He wants to crash our date nights all the time, but Ken would rather eat rocks than invite him," you said with a laugh. "So we lie and tell him it can't be done."

Door opening on your side, you perked up as light flooded your car and you turned you head up to gaze at your husband holding the door.

"What are you laughing about?" your grumpy husband asked. Although his voice was dull and drab, Itadori wondered how you managed to brighten up so much just at the mere sight of the blond man. He was even more confused at how you only stepped out of the car after Nanami had opened it, so much more different than the blond he knew who was strict and hated doing anything beyond the required effort.

To the Nanami who told everyone to drag their own baggage, this seemed like night and day, yet here you were, not even lifting a finger.

Where was the real Nanamin?

"Not at you," you reassured, slipping out as Nanami stepped back slightly. "At Gojo."

Face souring as if he had eaten a lemon, he quickly told you that he didn't even want to think of the white-haired man tonight, not when it was your night. "If you wanted to laugh at clowns, I should've taken you to the circus instead."

Holding on to his arm, you looked up at your husband. "Well then, good thing we have Yuji-kun with us, right? At least someone will laugh at my jokes today."

Exhaling tiredly, Nanami pushed up his glasses to hide the small quirk of his lips.

"Itadori-kun, what are you waiting for? Get out of the car."

Eyes widening, he jolted in his spot, clumsily opening the door and trying not the hit the car next to you. "R-Right!"

"Aww, maybe you should be the gentleman and open the door for him."

Rolling his eyes beneath his round glasses, he placed his hand over your hold on his bicep. "Do you think I open the door for everyone?"

In the background, Itadori watched as you were eye-to-eye with your husband.

Oh, he realized. It's still Nanamin. It was just that you got special treatment.

"You were a sorcerer too?!" Yuji shouted in the restaurant, far too loud for your comfort.

"Itadori-kun!" Nanami snapped from beside you, wine glass held up to his lips. Gasping at his mistake, he quickly scanned the restaurant, eyes skimming across lavish tables draped with silky white cloth, dainty lighting up above, and flower bouquets scattered across the room, but thankfully no wandering or surprised eyes from other patrons that were caught up in what he had yelled out.

"Sorry…" he said, dropping his eyes to look at the first few courses in front of him. Sighing, now Nanami was even more glad that he selected the most secluded table in the restaurant, far away from the other booked tables where everyone got an obstructed view of you three, but where he could see everything in the room.

You waved off your husband's irritation and squeezed his hand underneath the table. You waited until his knitted eyebrows relaxed a bit before you even thought of looking away.

"That's alright, Yuji-kun." You had met him before this, but you were sure that you had given off the impression of someone who was pampered and privileged as you opened up the door for Nanami and Itadori that one day in nothing but a simple chemise (that Nanami covered up before the teen's eyes) and your face mask on with your hair up. Certainly not battle-ready. Not to mention, you had introduced yourself as another office worker, leading Itadori to believe that was where you two met.

"You didn't know," you said understandingly before your eyes softened. "That's actually how Ken and I met — Oh, he was so different back then. He actually gave me a whole box of poetry inspired by our favorite emo bands back in — "

"Darling," he said sharply, rather than affectionately.

Laughing off the intense aura Nanami was giving off, you continued. "You know, I come from a pretty old sorcerer family. We were a big deal back in the Meiji period, but we all died off since then." With a shrug, you added, "My mom never wanted me to be a sorcerer anyway, so I guess it all worked out that I ended up quitting after graduation."

"Huh?" Itadori tilted his head in confusion. "If your mom didn't let you, how were you able to join Jujutsu Tech?" With those old coots around every corner, it was harder to get into JJ Tech than leave.

Barking out a laugh, you grinned at the pink-haired teen. "Cause I thought I was sooo edgy back then. I thought I was being so cool." Then, suddenly — you grew pacified as the onslaught of memories hit you. When you spoke up next, your voice was a lot quieter. "I was obsessed with being different and finding myself, I thought…" When your memories conjured up a certain brown-haired boy you had lost once upon a time, you faltered. "At graduation, I realized I ended up losing a lot more than I had discovered."

A large hand landed on your thigh, and you were only called back to earth after Nanami had given your leg a quick squeeze. Nothing suggestive or intense, but as you focused on the warmth of his palm and the feather-like touch of his fingers brushing across your skin, you focused again on the present.

"I was just lucky and landed myself a good job. My brother-in-law was one of the co-founders of a well-to-do startup, and they got me a cushy position, so I'm more than happy with what I have now." Placing one of your hands on top of Nanami's you made sure to point those last words at him, just to assure him. Righting yourself up to push these memories behind you, "And besides, I'm sure Ken has the short end of the — "

Slam!

When you blinked the splatters from your eyes, you realized what had happened around you. A tripped-over waitress was hands and knees on the ground, three dishes of your lamb roast had scattered across the polished wooden floors amongst shattered plates, and furthermore, your pristine button-up shirt was warm and drenched in dark red wine sauce.

"Shit," you muttered into the quiet air, and that was all you needed for chaos to descend from every corner. Itadori was yelling something in your ear, your husband was quickly trying to pat your shirt dry, the tearful waitress was extremely apologetic on her knees, and all while the owner of the establishment came rushing forward to see what the commotion was all about.

"What is the meaning of this!" the man roared, red in the face before whirling in on the girl. "Hima — !"

"M-Ma'am, I-I'm extremely sorry," she said with her head bowed while she was still on the ground. "I hope that you can please forgive me — "

"Hey," you said easily. The last thing you wanted was for a young girl to cry. "It's alright," you tried to speak up against the overlapping voices.

"Please forgive us," the owner said, head bowed as well while he gave her a nasty glare from the side. "She's new here. I assure you that this behavior is unacceptable here, and I'll be sure to — "

"Hey," you sternly spoke through. "It's fine. Really. Everyone makes mistakes," you said gently, keeping your eye carefully on the young girl. "And it's just a shirt. This will come off." Tilting your head up toward the blond man who was worriedly hovering around you. This was something that he gifted you. "This stain will come off, right?"

Giving you a quick nod, Nanami carefully pulled out the strands of hair attached to the side of your neck from the spill. "If it doesn't, I'll buy you a new one," he said immediately.

Quirking up your lip at him, you said, "That's unnecessary. Like I said, it's just a shirt." Catching the girl's eye contact, you said calmly, "Everything's fine. Please go patch your knee up." You excused her.

The boss seemingly wanted to argue, opening his mouth to argue as the girl thankfully nodded, hidden behind a curtain of her hair before she rushed away, but the sight of your husband's dark stare from over your shoulder, as he stood large, muscled, and broad, shut him up.

"Where's your bathroom?" you asked. Your shirt was becoming transparent and sticking uncomfortably.

The owner looked extremely apologetic again. "It's currently closed for cleaning, but I'll let my employees know — no more than five minutes — !"

"That's alright," you repeated shortly.

"Go get my wife a laundry bag and a towel." The owner certainly wasn't going to argue when your husband stood like a pillar behind you. Holding his clean hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, he breathed carefully. "As fast as possible."

"R-Right away." With a bow, the owner made another uneasy promise of covering your dry cleaning, restaurant bill, and that he would send someone to clean this up immediately.

"Kennie," you called. As the spill cooled, the sauce stuck to your skin and was starting to become oily and coagulated, overall unpleasant the longer it lingered. Cringing, you said, "I don't want to wear this shirt any longer, can you help me?"

No further words were needed. With a quick flash of movement, almost as fast as how he took down curses with his ratio, Itadori watched as the older man pulled his blazer off his body and stood to hold it up around you like a curtain.

The man's large arms were nearly encircling you, muscles flexing as he tilted his body and blazer to give you all the privacy you needed to change. Facing the ceiling-to-floor windows that gave you the grand view of the Tokyo skyline, you began unbuttoning your shirt.

Although Itadori caught a peek of the top of your lacy black bra, he quickly averted his eyes with pink cheeks, both out of shame, and with how Nanami's gaze could've set him on fire.

"You can put your shirt here," Nanami gestured, nodding toward the back of his chair. Nodding, you quickly dropped your wet shirt out of your hands, allowing Itadori to see the LEMAIRE tag poking out from the folds.

You patted yourself clean with the cloth napkins you had around the table, and you thanked Itadori as he handed you his. Once you cleaned off as much of the spill as possible, your bare shoulders finally met with the sleek silk lining of your husband's jacket. As you slipped your arms around the oversized jacket sleeves, Nanami finished helping you button up his jacket.

Taking a knee, the blond man cleaned up your chair before he let you sit down. The blazer was comically oversized on you, giving you broad shoulders from the sturdy padding, and the lapels gave you a low cut where your bra could still be seen, but it was better than nothing.

The blond man let out a deep sigh. If he wasn't in public, no — if you two were the only people at the table, he wouldn't waste any time to tuck his face in your shoulder or rest his head on your lap even.

"Darling," Nanami started, and immediately Itadori was shocked at how the stern and reserved Nanami seemed so soft. "This date's been a mess, I'm sorry — " Weak even, against your presence.

"Why are you apologizing?" you said with a chuckle. "The date has barely even started yet! And now we get free food!"

Giving you a frown he added, "What's the point if you had to be embarrassed like this?" Beautiful brown eyes peered up at you, and you swore you could never get sick of the sight, not even to this day.

"Embarrassed? I've done a lot more humiliating things as a high schooler — willingly too." With a grin, you reached over to pinch his high cheekbone. "And I love wearing your clothes anyway."

"I — "

"Nothing a shower won't fix," you interrupted him by grabbing his face and leaning over to give him an Inuit kiss. "And what's the matter with one 'ruined' date?" Holding up your hand, you showed off your grand wedding and engagement ring. "You locked me down anyway," you said cheekily. "I'm not going anywhere."

Yet the blond man looked regretful anyway. Ashamed that he made your night anything less than wonderful.

You wondered where it all came from, this insane pressure to give you what he deemed as a perfect life — the perfect adulthood, rather. Perhaps it was from how you constantly repeated how much you valued and appreciated him when he was being bogged down by competitive coworkers who walked all over him.

Or perhaps it was from the look on your face as you sat next to Haibara's body in the morgue, as the light slowly dimmed from your eyes.

Heart swelling with true love, you couldn't resist pulling the man forward for a real kiss. One deep and hearty, skin against skin, until space had never existed, and you could get your atoms to touch.

"Um..." Itadori squirmed uncomfortably in his seat.

Did you forget he was here?

[mp0625]

Pass the Cranberries

Oscar Piastri x reader

Taglist. Masterlist.

A/N: To everyone that voted Oscar you were correct! Happy Thanksgiving to those who celebrate!!

“So I’m meeting your parents today?” Oscar asked, looking at you from the passenger seat.

“Yes, and my brother and sister, my grandparents on both sides, my aunt and uncle from my mom’s side and my great aunt and uncle will be there Thursday.” You list keeping your eyes on the road watching for deer as you wind down the country road.

“How much farther?” He questions after you hit another pothole.

“We are here!” You said as you pull off the larger dirt road onto a smaller one lane dirt road.

“So this is where you grew up?” He looked over at you questionly.

“Yup, born and raised.”

“When was the last time you were here?”

“Weekend before Vegas, while you were at the factory Zac let me go home early, I was able to do most of the work from home.” You said as you go farther up the driveway, as you pass a barn you mention. “That barn is one my great grandpa built, that we used to house cows. But now my mom wants to fix it up and create an air BnB.” As you pull up to the house you put the car in park, and you pop the trunk. As you are getting your suitcases out of the car you hear the front door open.

“Y/N” “Come hear I missed you!” Your mom is now standing on the front porch.

“You saw me two weeks ago.” You said as you walked over to give her a hug.

“Oh, me and your dad saw you on TV, they showed the analysts on the McLaren pit wall and we recognized you.” Your mom said holding you at arm's length. “Come inside, it’s chilly out here. Can I get y’all a drink?” She said opening the front door. As Oscar comes up the stairs behind you carrying your bag.

“Thank you.” Giving him a kiss on the cheek, you grab your bag from him and head inside.

The next morning, as you are drinking your coffee on the front porch. You hear mom call, “Y/N, can you run up to the gas station and grab a couple bags of ice? Please.”

“Yes ma’am.” You said standing up finishing your last sip of coffee. “Oscar, do you want to go with me? It’s about a 20 minute ride there and back.”

“Sure, let me grab my jumper.” He said heading into the house.

Once y’all were on y’all way back Oscar broke the comfortable silence by saying. “I didn’t realize you grew up this far out of town.”

“Yeah it was a little hard to do sports and stuff, but I loved it and wouldn’t have it any other way.” You said with a smile.

Once you pull in and get the ice unloaded. Your mom asks Oscar. “Can you help me with the mashed potatoes by peeling the potatoes? Please.”

“Sure.” He says coming into the kitchen. After a few minutes he asks. “Hey Y/N, am I doing this right?” Showing you a half peeled potatoe.

“Yeah, it looks perfect.” You said.

Thursday morning Oscar woke up to absolute chaos, you and your mom running around putting pots on the stove and turning crock pots on and firing up the smoker, even though y’all did most of the cooking yesterday. As you were putting the green beans on you heard someone pulling up the gravel driveway. You hear your dad shout from the front porch, “They’re here.” After everyone comes in and says hi and gets hugs, y’all settle on the couch and catch up while your aunt puts her food in the oven to keep warm.

In the middle of dinner You and Oscar were talking about one of the races from earlier this year, to your aunt. You hear your sister start up. “They Shouldn’t have done that, that's what caused him to crash!”

“You're just saying that because he’s your favorite.” Your brother shouted back.

“No I’m not.”

“Yes you are.”

“No I’m not.”

As they continue to get louder you start to call their names but they aren't listening so you have to resort to. “Will you please pass the cranberries?” “Will you please pass the cranberries?” “Please pass the cranberries!” You said hitting your hands on the table after every word.

Taglist: @studioreader @honethatty12 @slafgoalskybaby @swissboyhisch @topguncultleader @wondershells @cixrosie

[tihgnari]

ꕤ 44. a love stolen away (ღ)

tw: angst / wc: 743

the sky was colored cerulean, with minimal puffy white clouds floating about in a snail-like pace. it's a beautiful day today — perfect for picnics in the park with family, perfect for walking around the sidewalk with no particular goal but to feel the fresh breeze kiss your skin…

perfect for a wedding. 

"say, ayaka, how long do you think their vows was for each other?"

ayaka, who had started her day banging her fist against the varnished wooden doors, stops to look at you incredulously. "dude, i'm literally trying to get us out of here. don't be so pessimistic at least!" the banging resumes, with two fists this time. "i'll get you out of here, okay? just wait, and you'll get your speak now moment!"

you didn't laugh. much less reacted, really. your eyes hold no light, and it's jarring seeing the contrast against the sunny day, almost as if the universe is making fun of your miserable state.

"i wonder what color his suit was. i think he looks rather dashing in white, then again i also think he can pull-off any color."

ayaka sighs, walking towards you with heavy steps. she crouches before you but you don't spare her a glance. "don't worry, yn, okay? we can—"

"if you do get us out, i want to fly back home. maybe all of this is sign that me and ayato were just never meant to happen. we're from two different worlds. after he graduates he'll be the president of a company, but when i graduate i'll just be some clumsy intern who works 9 to 5 and doesn't get paid half as much as the hours i put in."

ayaka feels a spark of irritation in her nerves and she's never want to slap some sense into you as much as she does now. 

"yn, listen to me. what are you saying? don't give up yet—"

"coming here even made you fight with your grandfather. i don't want you to fight with your family."

"no," ayaka retaliates, stubborn. "first of all, you are more than what you think, yn. i genuinely don't think i would've survived college nor would i even be as mentally strong enough to even run as president! i am where i am now, because some god or deity above gave me an amazing friend. grandpa… needed to get that reality check that times are changing and he can't dictate what his grandchildren should do anymore."

you're silent, and ayaka would've thought you weren't listening if not for the glint of tears building in yours eyes. 

"this is just so fucked up," you whispered. "i didn't even get the chance to explain. he got married thinking i never returned his feelings, and that's what hurts me the most."

"hey, hey, the ceremony won't start in…" ayaka looks over her shoulder on the small digital clock by the bedside table. "no less than three hours! we can still make it so don't speak like all hope's gone. just help me bust down this door and we can hail a cab, the venue isn't far from here so—"

"earlier this morning, while you were still sleeping, do you wanna know what your grandfather said to me before he left?"

truthfully, ayaka doesn't. "what?"

"the ceremony started this morning, at 9AM. they changed the time and had informed all the guests three days ago — except for you. he said he knew his grandchildren, and honestly? i think he really does…"

ayaka wants to pass out. 

"…considering he knew ayato wouldn't spend a night in a room with the girl he's forced to marry and that you'd fly here with me to soil his plan. he knew everything. he caught ayato, and ordered him to text aoki that he was staying here when really, he was at another hotel. ayato's will is already broken down. your grandfather knew your brother won't run away, that he had no other option but to accept the marriage. while you, on the other hand…"

so that's why you looked lifeless, like you want to raise your white flag and fly back home tail in between your legs. 

the first tear rolls down your cheeks. ayaka didn't want to imagine what you felt, of a love stolen away before it began.

"timecheck: its 12PM, and i've given my context. so answer my question, how long do you think their vows was for each other?"

LOWKEY » previous : masterlist : next

a kamisato ayato social media au

summary — it was only recently you found out kamisato ayaka was, in fact, not an only child after all! seeing ayato for the first time gave you the severest case of the butterflies but according to ayaka, he’s off limits, especially to you as her most treasured friend. well, what she doesn’t know won’t hurt, right?

notes — a wild rosie appears... and dips again for the next 5 mos /j

🏷 i. @rinrinchin @nejibot @viiolettee @katsumikumo @starryeyedkoko @xingqiusliegee @boxdisappeared @lovelyycherries @love6cks @kiyowoir @luvvmeilin @blackberri-jelli @moonlightbqe @kazooms @tricethecharm @lynnforever @kaedear @xiaoisahawtie @crowbird @apotatouwu @xinii @euryrue @aequha​@nuttytani @plinkuro @aixaingela @milesluvrrad @windasteriaa @cherrytomato2 @zannivrs @eishtar @wccycc @ceylestia @sweet-almonds @queenaveryrules @veyu002 @ukinya @adeptusx @x-xxiaos @loveyoutothestars @ssalamanderr

[cyberdragoninfinity]

tw talking about illness, death of a loved one, etc etc

i feel like there's this ever present phantom of having an Older Than Average parent, the knowledge that, yeah, theyre probably going to die a lot sooner than your friends' parents might, and you have to be ready for that. and I know I've constantly had that grip of nervous primed and ready grief at my shoulder for... years. And even then nothing can prepare you for it. You can know it's coming a mile away and it still can't prepare you for it. my dad had grey hair for as long as i knew him and as long as i can remember. people mistook him for my grandpa since i was like. 7???? there was always this veil of borrowed time on the table, i feel like.

I just hate how fast his decline was (he originally had to be admitted to the hospital with a minor heart attack in August, and then had to be readmitted about two weeks ago--he was only in hospice care at home for about a week before passing today),) it scares the shit out of me. hate it hate it hate it. I'm really glad I was able to visit home in September and that my last in person interactions with my dad both then and earlier this year were happy and good ones; that was part of why my mom and i agreed I shouldnt hurry home immediately this last week. no point in making my last in person memories be ones full of hospice and infection and an even more despondent grief that im already having.

whenever we talked on the phone I always tried to have the last thing i said to my dad before we hung up be "i love you," a bit of a mildly OCD-driven itch. just in case it was the last time we talked. when my mom put the phone up to my dad's ear on Wednesday i made sure that that last thing i was able to tell him was that i loved him. i'm glad i have that.

really really sad he didnt get to live to see me turn 30 though :(

[nonsensical-pixels]

hey everyone,

my grandpa passed away earlier today, after a three month battle with cancer. it was a long time coming and he's been deteriorating fast but i just feel so numb whenever i think about it. i guess it's shock.

he was the father figure i looked up to most in my life and was the person that got me into the sims, and gaming in general--i'm crying right now just thinking of my childhood spent playing with my ipad on his lap while he he played civ 5 on his gaming PC.

i'm sorry but i just can't continue looking at this blog without him around. the sims isn't the same without him, nothing is, all of my computers, phones, anything electronic in this house is his. everything's changed all of a sudden and i just can't deal with it right now.

i'm sorry to leave this blog again when i've just gotten back to posting more regularly, but it's all too much. i have school, my siblings, and a funeral to worry about. i can't barrel through everything playing sims anymore like i used to do. i have to face this head on.

there's still some stuff in the queue to keep you guys occupied i guess, for a couple more weeks. i won't be adding any more or fixing it for... idk how long after this post. it's just, all too much

goodbye, - ky

[kirbyprompts]

𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐏𝐓 𝟏

content warnings: alcohol, drinking, killing, death, murder. feel free to change prompts as necessary!

��i feel like it’s my responsibility to stop them.❞

❝i ask people if i can trust them, they say yes, and then they trick me! or they use me to do bad things.❞

❝this seems like a very large task for one person.❞

❝i almost died today, motherfuckers. i almost died.❞

❝well, only one place to go and that’s down.❞

❝stay put. don’t move.❞

❝hi! want some booze?❞

❝you seem to have such an affinity for cute things.❞

❝anyone else feel like going for a swim?❞

❝as long as you don’t mind dying, sure.❞

❝we are the worst people.❞

❝i respect you and your intentions, but your caution does not get to control other people’s destinies.❞

❝there’s only so many burdens we can bear before we’re just asking for failure.❞

❝you did check for traps, right?❞

❝no! i’m opening it. fuck off grandpa!❞

❝maybe you’re cursed.❞

❝how did you survive?❞

❝we solved the mystery.❞

❝light the damn sticks of dynamite, just do it!❞

❝i don’t know what i’m doing. just go with it.❞

❝should i burn it?❞

❝you faded away there for a second. are you good?❞

❝let's focus on the good things in our lives.❞

❝is there anything of use or value here at all?❞

❝things are looking up.❞

❝earlier you said i could talk to you whenever i want. and i thank you for that.❞

❝that’s a good name. names are important.❞

❝i’ll take out everyone!❞

❝wake up, there’s an ambush!❞

❝are you bullshitting me?❞

❝we’re doing what we need to survive.❞

❝if you’re going to do bad things, at least work for someone who’s rich and doing bad things! don’t just steal from people on the road, that’s stupid!❞

❝only steal from grumpy people!❞

❝i was trying to be jovial, i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have tried that.❞

❝there’s nothing better than waking up in the morning with no pants and flowers in your hair.❞

❝i’ve never been here, but i’ve heard stories.❞

❝where do the best parties happen?❞

❝laughter and music? i don’t trust laughter and music.❞

❝have you ever been dancing before?❞

❝is this your first time here?❞

❝sorry to interrupt your incessant flirting. can i please have a damn drink?❞

❝if you drink enough you won’t remember either way.❞

❝was it someone special?❞

❝i’ve never thought of you as an optimistic person, but that’s a very positive way of looking at things.❞

❝you are not going to pass out on the street.❞

❝what’s the thing you’re most proud of?❞

❝am i allowed to rob him?❞

❝you look like you’ve got an honest face.❞

❝it’s fine. you’re not in any danger.❞

❝hi, i’m here to take care of your spinny death problem.❞

❝i don’t think they’re going to let me in.❞

❝i’m quite sure. did i stutter?❞

❝can’t we just please go kill your damn death robot?❞

❝i can speak when i have to.❞

❝is that your blood or is that mine?❞

❝the only thing that’s magical here is you.❞

❝sometimes the people who help you are the least expected.❞

❝my entire life has been plans being made for me.❞

❝i don’t think you and i have the same plan, but they might overlap. i will be willing to help you.❞

❝let’s make a pact that if either one of us does something stupid, we’re each other’s failsafes.❞

❝i don’t think i want to hurt anymore people and i don’t think you want to either.❞

❝i think i can help you. i think you can help me. i think we can do some good here.❞

❝if i left, i would find my way back to you.❞

❝i do better with you around.❞

❝for all the visions, the darkness out there, it’s good to know that somehow we’re all putting a little bit of light out there too.❞

❝i have a question. does anyone have booze?❞

❝i’m trying this thing where i’m trying to be more polite.❞

❝i am the greatest detective of all time! i took one drink and solved the case!❞

❝you’re going to be a fucking piece of work.❞

❝i’m more than happy to kill something at this point. i have some aggression to work out.❞

❝do we want to stay in the haunted house?❞

❝that’s the most fucked up shit i’ve ever seen.❞

❝truly nothing escapes your astute observation.❞

❝i thought we were getting to know each other.❞

❝did you have a happy home life growing up?❞

❝i’ll help you try to get revenge on your vague past.❞

❝how about you tell me one fact about you and i tell you one about me?❞

❝what’s the best lie you’ve ever told?❞

❝you are a good friend to have and a terrible enemy to make.❞

❝i didn’t know! i’m sorry. i’m sorry. i didn’t know.❞

❝i’m not walking away from this.❞

❝it’s funny how the good people can make us assholes feel so small.❞

❝i think you’re supposed to say some stuff about how good they were and how many people loved them, and what a wonderful life they had, but i don’t think any of that is true.❞

❝i thought you were talking to yourself again.❞

❝are you willing to kill?❞

❝i have lost people before. i have found ways to find them in nature.❞

❝this is my first time trying to be more than i am.❞

❝you and i, we’re going to survive this.❞

❝i don’t have any family; you’re the closest thing i have.❞

❝you may be kind of weird but you’re also nice.❞

❝i am nauseous. let’s go kill a bunch of people.❞

❝i would like to hug you.❞

❝usually when people come here, it is because of some great tragedy. how can i alleviate your pain?❞

❝i’m gonna take a guess: you don’t leave here very much do you?❞

❝violence is extremely natural.❞

❝i’m canonically a coward!❞

❝oh this is going wonderful.❞

❝you don’t need to do this if you don’t want to.❞

❝brave. dead. it’s semantics, really.❞

❝they. are. going. to. die.❞

❝it’s not your fault.❞

❝this won’t happen again.❞

❝i would have laid down my life for you.❞

❝i’m sorry i wasn’t faster.❞

❝it looks better on you.❞

❝you can cook?❞

❝leave me alone. i’m reading.❞

❝i would feel a little safer if i knew a little bit more about you.❞

❝i’ll find you when i’m ready.❞

❝most people in my life leave.❞

❝there is always a cost.❞

❝i made the earth remember him.❞

❝congratulations on being alive.❞

❝you cannot blame yourself when you are taken advantage of.❞

❝i have people i want to find and things i want to remedy.❞

❝i feel like you should embrace the morbidity of life.❞

❝afraid? i’m not afraid of anything!❞

❝did you see what i did?❞

❝why didn’t you come?❞

❝you promise you won’t leave?❞

❝i don’t think i’ve ever come across magic like that.❞

❝things that are unknown are notably able to draw dangerous and inquiring eyes and minds.❞

❝just so you know, i think i can punch ghosts now.❞

❝i just know if i saw a ghost, i would want to punch it. ghosts are scary.❞

❝it’s easier to steal things when you can pay for them with money.❞

❝this is not where i am supposed to be.❞

❝i have no specific destination in mind.❞

❝i’ll go where you go.❞

❝what do you want to know?❞

❝well i can’t go home.❞

❝we stick together.❞

❝we have things we need to do and we don’t have forever to do them.❞

❝you know what i’ve done.❞

❝sometimes you have to take a big risk if it’s that important.❞

❝you can’t just sneak up on a person!❞

❝sorry, just figured you’d want some company.❞

❝i've always loved the water.❞

❝feels good to be back, yeah?❞

[ahedderick]

Grandpa's chest

Sooooo, yesterday was the big chest-retrieval-from-Shunk-Pennsylvania day. My daughter and I set out at 11:30; she was riding along for moral support and navigation. She has a complicated phone and I do not.

Our first issue, just over the border in PA, was a 'Sunday' driver who was tootling along far under the speed limit. This trip was supposed to be 3.5 hours one way; I didn't want that to get even longer. However, even though it was a highway, it was too narrow to have a passing lane and too curvy to pass by pulling into the oncoming lane. We tootled. Anxiously. Then a shiny, bright yellow pickup pulled out in front, and slowed down. We were now 30 mph under the speed limit. Absolutely no safe way to pass. To my great relief, both vehicles pulled off onto a side road after a few miles, and I got the Subaru zoomies.

The rest of the trip north was uneventful traffic-wise. When we got off the highways and onto secondary roads just past Williamsport, the scenery was lovely. The temptation to just pull off and spend a while playing in the river* was intense! There were also downed trees leaning on the electric wires - not just one or two, but many! Yikes.

After a l-o-n-g stint on steep, winding backroads, we arrived at my late father's cousin's house, which is being cleaned out and sold off by her daughter, my second cousin. Got all that? Don't worry, not truly crucial info. The wooden chest that she was giving us had little caster wheels, ornate carving around the sides, some very interesting little drawers, and a flat top that really looked as if another piece was supposed to sit on top of it.

A neighbor helped us load it gently into the back of my car. He oriented it rightside up; it just barely fit. A little voice in the back of my brain was bothered by that, but I couldn't figure out why.

["This is wrong" "ok, why?" "Not telling you, just it's wrong!"]

As we started back down the gravel road, it because abundantly clear why. The flipping thing was sitting on its wheels - and rolling back and forth in the car at every turn and incline. We had to pull over, wrestle the thing out, then back in on its top. Sheesh.

There was no cell service, so K couldn't get the phone to give us directions back out, but we figured we could backtrack just by memory for a while, until the service kicked back in. That worked. Once she had directions again, we headed south. She was driving the return trip. "Uh-oh, my phone's at 20%"

I figured if the phone could get us as far as the main northeast/southwest highway, I'd be able to figure things out from there. And it almost did. It conked out when were were just a mile or two away from 220S. Unfortunately, so did my daughter. She was sick earlier in the week, and not quite recovered; after an hour of driving she got drowsy and I had to take back over.

Oop, I have a lot of party prep today, I'm going to have to come back to this later.

'* pretty sure this was Loyalsock creek. A puzzling name.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Running From The Flames {Epilogue 1/2}

Pairing: Pierre Gasly x OFC Warnings: parenting - that should be a warning lmao, sexual themes

F1 Masterlist || Previous Chapter - Epilogue 2/2

There was only one word to describe my life and that word was: chaotic. That being said, I still wouldn’t change it for the world.

The family calendar on the fridge was completely full and colour coded so we could all see where we were needed on any given day. Even so, I still lost track of my husband or our kids at least once a week. 

“Sydney, honey, have you seen your father?” I asked the spitting image of Pierre who was in the race simulator. He was always in the machine, practising for his upcoming debut into Formula 4 now that he had turned 15 and could move up from karting. 

“Picking up Addie from the airport.” He barely looked away from the triplet of screens in front of him as he answered with all the attitude of a teenage boy being interrupted in life. “It’s on the fridge.”

I looked at the calendar and realised I was looking at the completely wrong day. “Shit.”

“Ha,” he laughed loudly as he navigated the virtual track of the Red Bull Ring. “You forgot.”

“I didn’t forget,” I said as I scanned over the correct day and saw I had a board meeting to prepare for tomorrow. “I just thought it was Tuesday today.”

“Whatever you say, maman. You can tell me I’m your favourite, I won’t say anything.”

“I don’t have a favourite, I love you all equally. Now, can you finish that game and go do your homework? You still need to pack your bag for the weekend too.”

Addie was coming home from London for the week, taking a little break from her own busy schedule, to watch Sydney’s first race with us in Austria. 

It had been difficult to let her leave home at 18 but she had worked hard to get a place in the Arsenal Women’s Under 21 team. I had left home at the same age and Pierre had left even earlier, so we were hardly the exemplary figures to deny her. All we could do was make sure she stayed safe and she knew she could call either of us 24/7 if she needed help. It was also never that long between visits, making plenty of stopovers in England as we travelled. 

The travelling for work was tiresome but so far we had yet to miss a football match on Saturday or a karting race on Sunday. It did help being our own bosses so Pierre and I could manage our schedule around the kids. He had been running Strauss Fashion for the better part of the last ten years, after Granny finally retired properly, while I had been the Chief Technical Officer at Alpine, which Grandpa had purchased. 

When Harry passed away three years ago I found myself suddenly thrust into the ownership of the team and though there were plenty of offers to sell it, I decided to take the leap of faith and see where the journey would take me. I hadn’t looked back and so far we had two Constructors' Championship wins with our seasoned pilots, Gabriele Minì and Oliver Bearman.

We had come so far, it was hard to believe until I saw the wisps of grey hairs among the dark strands. 

“Maman!” I was pulled from my reminiscence and looked at my watch to realise how quickly the afternoon had gotten away from me as Clare bounded through the front door and leapt into my arms. “Maman, look!”

Clare had been a wonderful surprise that completed our family two years ago. After Sydney’s unexpected and frightening early arrival Pierre had been reluctant to try for another child, though he had always wanted three. I thought maybe he would change his mind after the terrifying memory faded with time but then a few years passed, we both got caught up in work, and after that it seemed too hard to imagine returning to sleepless nights with a newborn. 

But, the universe had other plans for us. What I thought was a long-enduring hangover, after celebrating the rebranding of Alpine into Gasly Racing, actually turned out to be morning sickness. Those final weeks before her birth were stressful enough to send Pierre to his doctor for a vasectomy but thankfully her arrival went exactly to plan and he could breathe calmly once again. 

“Hello my Clare-bear, wow, you have another bracelet.” You quirked an eyebrow at Charles as he arrived with Clare’s backpack on his shoulder and her spare carseat under his arm. “Uncle Charles has absolutely spoiled you.”

“Of course. A princess deserves it,” he stated proudly as he placed her belongings down and nodded his head to the simulator. “Is he all ready for the big day?”

“He is, I’m not sure I am,” I admitted as I put Clare down and she immediately went to interrupt Sydney by climbing onto his lap mid-race. If it was anyone else they would have received an earful but he just paused the game and listened as she told him all about her day at Uncle Charles’ house. “God help me when he gets to Formula One, I think I’ll have to revert the car back to a slower predecessor for my own sanity.”

Charles laughed but I wasn’t completely joking. The cars were so much faster than they were when he and PIerre raced. Though the safety features improved along with the technology that made them rockets on wheels it was still difficult to imagine putting my little boy inside one and sending it off. 

“You could keep him as a reserve driver,” Charles offered before shaking his head at the thought and taking a seat at the kitchen island. “But he’s stubborn like his father, he’d just find another team to race for.”

“No way, I can at least trust my own team to keep him safe. Same goes for Marc.”

Charles chuckled at the mention of his son who at 8 years old he was already a junior karting champion. “He said someone called him Il Predestinato after his race last weekend.”

“Yikes, I’m sure they meant it in a good way.”

The front door opened again and Addie blew in with all the gusto of a tornado, whipping around the rooms to greet everyone before she was up the stairs to her old room. Entering a little more sedately was my husband, his arms laden with more suitcases than anyone needed for a week away, especially when she still had a wardrobe full of clothes upstairs. 

“You are lucky you only have sons,” Pierre said to Charles as he kicked the door closed behind him. “I don’t work out enough anymore to be carrying this shit.” 

He dropped the suitcases in front of the elevator and hit the call button rather than carrying them up the stairs before pushing them inside as the door opened. After a few bad winters, where not even the central heating could keep the aches of my bones at bay, Pierre had made the call for the elevator to be installed and it had been a godsend in moments like this when heavy items needed to make it to the floors above.

Sticking his head up the staircase he called out, “Addie, your entire life and everything but the kitchen sink is heading your way.”

“Thanks, dad!”

“What was that about?” I asked after he joined us in the kitchen while the coffee machine churned out our usual drinks. “I thought she outgrew the ‘I’m too cool to hangout with my parents’ phase.”

Pierre's lips pressed together and he took a seat next to Charles, picking up Clare who had left Sydney to return to his practice. “Elias.”

“Vettel?” Charles asked, his eyebrows lifting when Pierre nodded and pushed his mug away so Clare couldn’t reach the hot liquid.

“They have been out on a few dates, apparently. I’ll have to ask Davis about it, assuming he went with them, it’s not like it’s his job or anything. Did you know that?”

I shook my head at the news, cradling my mug in my hands as I leaned against the bench and wondered if she had ditched her bodyguard once again. “He’s a sweet boy from what I remember, much like his father.”

“I don’t like it. I don’t care who his dad is,” Pierre grumbled before repeating, “You are so lucky you only have sons, mate. Teenage girls are stressful.”

“Ah, but I have two boys who think it is funny to have a competition to see who can fart the loudest,” Charles said as he took a sip of his drink.

“I mean, that’s kind of funny,” Pierre said with a smirk.

Charles sighed deeply and rubbed his forehead. “Not when one always pushes too hard to win.”

The sip I was taking went the wrong way and I spluttered as Pierre laughed, “It’s all shits and giggles, until someone giggles and shits.”

“To think my poor mother went through this too. Drives me insane, mate. Bet you’ve never had to worry about that?”

“Thankfully, no,” I answered after recovering from choking on coffee. “But it also wasn’t bad enough to stop you from having another.”

“And on that note, I should get going. Mia won’t let me back in the house if I don’t pick up her favourite carbonara on the way home.” He smiled as he thought of his wife’s pregnancy cravings. It was the same one she had when she was carrying Marc and Antonio so it came as no surprise at the gender reveal when the backyard was splattered with blue confetti. “Thank you for letting me borrow Clare.”

“Any time,” Pierre chuckled as he clapped his friend on the back. Charles had been busy reinstalling all the baby gates and safety locks in his home, despite the baby boy not even being born yet, and wanted a toddler to help test his craftsmanship. “I won’t complain about a little free babysitting.”

Charles placed his empty mug in the sink and before kissing the top of Clare’s thick wavy hair. “Bye petite chérie, I’ll see you on Sunday.”

“Bye Uncle Charles,” she said with a wave, but it sounded more like Unk Cha and made him laugh as he approached the simulator.

I saw Sydney pause the race and Charles crouched down beside him, sharing a few quiet words of encouragement for the upcoming debut race. I couldn’t help feeling incredibly lucky to be surrounded by so many supportive people and my smile grew as a pair of arms wrapped around my waist. 

I turned to meet his lips over my shoulder and the magnetism that attracted us was still evident even after 17 years. Of course, like any relationship, there had been times when stress led to arguments and I would find him hours later in a spare bed, wide awake because he couldn’t sleep without me beside him. Those fights never lasted long enough to even remember what they were about and forgiveness came easy.

I turned in my husband’s arms and draped mine around his neck to admire him. Pierre was truly like a fine wine. Age had made him even more handsome and the small wrinkles at the corners of his lips and eyes were a testament to a life that was full of smiles and laughter. 

“Addie said she’ll watch the kids tonight,” Pierre whispered in my ear as he gently swayed to the melodic tune of his voice and I hummed with contentment. “And I got us a table at L'Ambroisie. You’ve been working so hard I thought we could do with a night away, just the two of us.”

“You think I don’t know your game, baby,” I whispered back, all too aware Charles was still chatting with Sydney and imparting some real world advice. “Wine and dine, pretty words, a hotel room. There’s only one thing you want.”

His lips curled into a smile against my cheek. “You know me too well.”

“You would actually get a full night’s sleep if you put your foot down.”

Pierre looked over at Clare who had helped herself to a banana from the fruit bowl and as if sensing she had been caught she looked up with an innocent smile. “How can I tell her no when she looks like that?”

“Mhmm, and that’s why she keeps climbing into our bed. You are a big softy.”

His smirk was flirty and fun as his arms tightened around me, pulling our bodies flush together. His breath was hot on my neck as he hid his face in the curtain of my hair. “Not tonight, ma femme. Tonight you will see just how hard I can be.”

Pierre backed up with a smirk but not before he sucked at the sensitive skin above my racing pulse. He knew exactly what he was doing and the smugness showed as he whistled a little tune on his way to help Clare peel the banana.

Shaking my head, I made my way to the stairs and said goodbye to Charles with the message to remind Mia that our plans for a spa day had been booked - but that didn’t mean he could slack off from the ankle massages he was giving her each night. He gave an amused salut but I didn’t see it as I pressed the button for the elevator. He was well used to the reminders by now, it wasn’t his first rodeo.

Knowing my evening plans had changed I went to my office and shut the door to silence the music drifting down the hall from Addie’s room. As CEO of Gasly Racing there was an endless stream of paperwork to be checked and signed, especially with the new expansion plan for the factory about to break ground. On top of that were the invites to attend fundraisers or speeches to prepare for the various charities I was ambassador for such as Women's Refuge.

When I finally emerged with my inbox up to date I could hear the laughter of all my children from where they lounged in front of the tv and the sound never ceased to make me smile. I had missed the sound since Addie moved out because it was rare to have all five of us here at the same time and I was reluctant to leave even for just one night when it came time to pack an overnight bag.

“We are allowed one night away, mon amour,” Pierre said as he stepped into the master bedroom to see me hesitating to step inside the wardrobe. “You and me, no interruptions.”

I relaxed into his embrace and sighed as he brushed my hair over one shoulder before kissing my collar. “And what were you planning that was so important it couldn’t be interrupted?”

His chuckle sent a shiver of delight down my spine and his fingers trailed down my ribs to the hem of my shirt before they slipped underneath the material to caress the soft skin over my stomach. I had to take a shaky breath when his thumbs caught the waistband of my skirt and I held it as I waited for them to hook underneath.

His lips brushed the shell of my ear and my lips parted in anticipation of his dirty words. “To sleep.”

“Huh?” I blinked twice, peeking over my shoulder to see his green eyes sparkling with amusement. 

“To sleep. Why, what were you thinking?” He tried to look innocent but when he drew his bottom lip between his teeth and his hand slipped down beneath my skirt he let the truth show. “Did you want me to tell you how I am dying for a taste of you? How I can’t wait to have these sexy legs wrapped around me when I make love to you tonight? I don’t need to tell you, baby, I’ll show you.”

I knew he could feel how damp my panties were for him from the smirk on his face and I almost whimpered when he withdrew his hand from where I needed it. “Now pack your bag, and make it quick, I’m absolutely ravenous.”

I bit my lip at the depth of his tone and knew exactly what it was he was dying to taste. I didn’t even look at what I was packing, tossing the first items that touched my hands before he stopped me and grabbed one dress instead. 

“This one,” he said as he held a colourful sundress that I rarely wore anymore, a soft smile warming his eyes. “It’s my favourite.”

Click here for the final chapter. 🥺

Tagging: @my-only-way-tocooperatewithlife @prrttysposts @alwaysclassyeagle @dr3lover @adalynneva

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.151 Farewell

Mama was right about traveling with a baby. We take so long to get out of the house now because we have to pack what feels like luggage for a week-long vacation. We've gotta bring the portable crib for nap time, toys to keep her entertained, snacks, and the back carrier in case she gets too heavy for us. And this is just us leaving when we're already dressed. I can't imagine how much earlier we'll have to start our days whenever we go out in the future. It already takes Sophia forever to do her hair, and now that I've grown mine out, I've added a few extra minutes to my routine too. And now we have a little one to throw into the mix.

Since the cemetery was close to the house, Alessia and Mama went home to change and check on the babies while we packed up everything we needed for Desi. They met us there, and everyone looked to me for guidance on how to proceed. I always felt like the de facto man of the house when we lived with Mama, and even sometimes at Dad's house. But now that he is gone, that mantle has fallen officially on me, and I feel weird about it. On one hand, it feels familiar. But on the other, it's yet another reminder that I'm flying solo. His shoes are huge, and the thought of trying to fill them is intimidating. If I'm honest, I'd rather not. But if I can channel even a fraction of his wisdom, and Desiree grows up more confidant and stronger than me, maybe it's worth a shot.

"Mama, do you want to say anything?"

I might be the leader of this family now, but I can sure defer to my elder while she's still here.

She nodded.

"I never stopped loving him, and I'm thankful for the good times we had and wish there could have been more of them. I'm thankful for the children he gave me. Most of all, I'm thankful for his forgiveness."

I look at my sister.

"Less?"

At first, she shook her head as I expected she would. But when I turned to Sophia, a flash of panic flickered on her face as if to realize the opportunity she was about to pass up.

"I love you, Daddy," she said.

Alessia's tender side was a rare treat, and it almost broke me. Sure, it was just us, and I could let it out in front of my family; that was the reason Mama suggested we make this moment private. But the pressure of "being in charge" made me feel like I needed to keep it together.

"Ali was the first one I met when Luca and I started dating," Sophia said. "One of my favorite things about meeting parents is seeing what your partner, and even your friends, will be like in a few years. Not just what they're going to look like, but how they'll be and where they get their qualities from. I saw all of Luca's gentleness and charm in Ali. He gets his care and concern from you, Emmy. I knew Luca was the one pretty early on, but when I met Ali, I was extra confident Luca was the right man for me. I didn't get to know him for long, but I'll still miss him."

I squeeze her hand like Maira did for me earlier. I could talk all night about how great my dad was, but it seems like the more I open my mouth, the more I feel the pressure that's been building all day. Besides, I already spoke at the house, so I take the urn and place it on the plot next to Gammy, grandpa Winston, and Mama's dogs. We stand there, gazing at it in silence, not wanting to depart just yet, but the rain Mama alluded to finally began. It's light at first, not even enough for an umbrella, but Sophia wanted to get Desiree home. It's a good idea, especially because the temperature is much cooler in Newcrest today. We gather ourselves and take a step toward the gate. That's when the pressure breached the dam, and I could no longer hold it together.

[buffyfan145]

Just wanted to do a personal update as my Grandma passed away earlier today so I might be a little quiet on here or mostly reblogging. She had been sick for years as she had dementia, AMD, and other health issues. My Grandpa took care of her till the end and they were one of the few high school couples that lasted. She lived to 91 still and I know she's back to her feisty, funny self. Weirdly she always was a fangirl even before that term was invented as she always had her favorite singers, actors, and athletes, very similar to how I do now too. LOL I also got my curly hair from her and she was one of the best cooks/bakers and crocheters too. Going to miss her but I know she's back to her old self and reunited with her dogs and my aunt who passed last year, as well as her parents, especially her dad who passed when she was very young.

[bri-the-nautilus]

Elphael: What's In a Name?

Earlier today, my esteemed comrade @the-unkindled-queen made a post wondering about the etymology of Elphael, Brace of the Haligtree. My initial digging turned up a few Reddit comments where the general consensus was that Elphael has its roots (ha) in Hebrew linguistics, with one interpretation being "Family of God" and another being "Work of God":

Now as a linguist and Bible scholar, I think these are awesome. I love seeing all the languages and cultures that these games draw inspiration from, and the Hebrew connection is a neat contrast with the Haligtree itself, which is linguistically Welsh. Additionally, the connection to Abrahamic faith and Hebrew words for people and acts of God is a nice throughline for the way the game portrays Miquella and St Trina as Messianic protectors of the sick and poor. Add in the spiritual atmosphere of Elphael and the Haligtree (prayer rooms, mausoleums, and altar-like statues of Miquella and Malenia abound), and it's a very pleasing little theory.

Soulsborne and especially Elden Ring borrow heavily from Welsh for names and whatnot (like the aforementioned Haligtree), and out of idle curiosity I began to wonder if there was any basis whatsoever for an alternative theory linking Elphael's name to Welsh. My only reasons for going down this path were the vaguely Celtic sound of the name and the fact that the Haligtree proper has a Welsh name. I didn't find anything like this during the search that led me to the Hebrew theories, and plugging various fragmentations of "Elphael" into a Welsh->English translator didn't spit out anything of value. I was about to throw in the towel when I did what I probably should have done before faffing about with the translator and just searched "Elphael Welsh."

And oh golly do we have ourselves an Elphael. Or an Elfael.

Welcome to the infinitely confusing world of medieval Welsh history.

Medieval Wales was divided into several regions, called cantrefi. Each cantref was further divided into several territories called commotes. The cantrefi are pictured below. We're mostly concerned with the central yellow one, Rhwng Gwy a Hafren, but also remember Gwynedd. It's in orange up top.

But that's for later. What we care about right now is the cantref of Rhwng Gwy a Hafren, which lies between the rivers Wye and Severn. This cantref is shown in detail below and is home to the commote of Elfael, shown in green. Also take note of Maelienydd and Buellt. They're light blue and yellow respectively, and we're going to need them later.

The history of Elfael is short and confusing, as one can expect from a fiefdom straddling the English-Welsh border during the post-Roman and post-Norman Conquest years. It didn't exist as a political entity for very long (it was only independent from 1155ish to about 1215 before dissolving completely in 1309), and changed hands often during its lifetime.

Our story begins with a man named Elystan Glodrydd, Prince of Buellt. He lived from 950 to 1010 CE, and at some point during his later life he conquered a territory called Ferlix, which was composed of Elfael and Maelienydd. When Elystan died, rulership of Buellt (Ferlix included) passed to his son Cadwgan, and then to Cadwgan's son Idnerth when he died.

Idnerth's reign is remarkable because he's the guy who lost Buellt. An Anglo-Norman noble, Philip De Braose, had conquered basically all the land between the Wye and Severn, which of course included Buellt. For some reason, at the conclusion of his conquest De Braose gave Ferlix back to Idnerth, but kept Buellt for himself. The end result being that Idnerth had gotten kicked out of his grandpa's commote and into what had originally been a conquered vassal territory. Once Idnerth died (presumably in shame), Ferlix went to his son, a man with the astoundingly awesome name of Madog. During this time, the Anarchy was starting.

The Anarchy was a civil war in Britain from 1138 to 1153. King Henry I died in 1135, and his heiress, the Empress Matilda, had many enemies who didn't want her to take the throne. In 1130, a castle had been built in southern Ferlix by one of these enemies, an Anglo-Norman named Pain FitzJohn, Sheriff of Hereford. This is the actual best name in this story. Pain FitzJohn is a fucking badass name. This castle, which was of course called Pain's Castle, was acquired by Madog in 1135 under foggy pretenses. It's likely that Pain wanted Madog's protection from Matilda, but we're not sure.

Old Madog knew that getting a castle called Pain's Castle was an achievement that couldn't be topped, and proceeded to die at age 65 in 1140, secure in the knowledge that he was better than Idnerth. He left five sons, who bucked the trend of going to war for their dead dad's land by dividing Ferlix amongst themselves. Unfortunately for them, this is when the Anarchy caught up with them. Another Norman lord, Hugh De Mortimer, invaded Ferlix in 1142. Two of Madog's sons (Hywel and another Cadwgan) were killed, and in 1146 De Mortimer killed a third son, Maredudd, in the process of capturing Pain's Castle. In 1155, Matilda's son Henry II took the throne of England, and when Hugh De Mortimer protested, Henry kicked him out of Ferlix. This left Madog's two surviving sons, Einion Clud and Cadwallon, to pick up the pieces. These guys hated each other, and neither brother could stomach ruling in consort with the other. But for some reason, they didn't kill each other, instead dividing Ferlix again in two. Cadwallon got the northern part, which came to be called Maelienydd, and Einion Clud got the southern part, which was called Elfael.

Einion Clud and Cadwallon still hated each other, and their realms were openly hostile, each brother still believing he was entitled to sole rule of all that had once been Ferlix. (Again, why didn't they just fight to the death like every other medieval family?) Things came to a head in 1160, when Cadwallon kidnapped Einion Clud and sent him in chains to Owain Gwynedd, the aptly-named King of Gwynedd, who in turn pawned him off on King Henry II. Eventually, Einion Clud either escaped or was released. It's not certain which of these occurred, but what is certain is that by 1165, Einion Clud was once again ruling Elfael, and at the Battle of Corwen the two brothers fought together against King Henry under the leadership of Owain Gwynedd. Politics are fucking weird.

There would be no happy ending, however. Hugh De Mortimer's son Roger was swearing revenge on his father's enemies. You might take this to mean King Henry, who kicked Hugh De Mortimer out of Ferlix in 1155, but no, Roger was actually a big fan of Henry II and had fought for the King during the Revolt of 1173. No, Roger wanted revenge on the guys who ruled Ferlix after his dad got yanked. The timeline here is a bit weird, but what's certain is that Roger De Mortimer killed Cadwallon in 1179. He also killed Einion Clud, but I wasn't able to find out when. I found a source saying that Roger killed Einion Clud after his father died, but Hugh De Mortimer died in 1181 and my reading on Cadwallon says that he was the prince of both Maelienydd and Elfael at the time of his death, which would only be possible if Einion Clud died before 1179. In fact, Cadwallon is said to have been ambushed by Roger's men in Elfael.

Anyway, that's all the history we care about for our purposes. Maybe I'm reading too much into things, but the fact that medieval Wales has the Lord of Elfael getting kidnapped by his brother seems a bit on the nose.

In Welsh history, the Anarchy leaves three of Madog's sons dead and the survivors are on opposing feudal factions. The Lord of Elfael is kidnapped by his brother.

In Elden Ring, the death of Marika's son sparks the Shattering, turning every remaining demigod against each other. The Lord of Elphael is kidnapped by his brother.

Either Miyazaki and Germ are fucking Super Saiyan level Welsh history scholars, or this is just an absurd coincidence. Either way, it's cool.

(tiny sidenote: this part is DEFINITELY conspiracy, but isn't it funny that our kidnapped lord has a sibling who rules Maelienydd??? Doesn't that sound a bit like... Malenia??? Obviously Malenia doesn't do the kidnapping in ER, but the names line up a bit too well...)

Sorry Niko, this is way more than you bargained for.

[nurse-floyd]

New Beginnings

Pairing: Poly!squad Bob x Hangman x Phoenix x Rooster

Prompt: by the amazing @vivwritesfics “Current thoughts: poly!Squad where jake or Bob inherit a ranch or something from their grandparents and poly!squad do it up together and it's just them getting sweaty and messy and cute.”

Warnings: mentions of death (brief) but other than that just pure poly!squad fluff.

Taglist: @pretzelcat4-blog (if you want to be added let me know)

Bob removed his glasses as he wiped away the tears that had freely flowed down his cheeks with his hand. He pocketed his phone and took a deep, shaky breath. He had just received a phone call from his mom, excusing himself from the rest of the squad as he answered. His grandpa, who had been in and out of the hospital for the best part of the last year, had died. He had visited when he could but was devastated he couldn’t be there at the end. He had spent so many holidays as a kid on his grandfather's ranch and couldn’t imagine what life would look like without him.

A voice pulled him from his grief momentarily; it was Nat calling after him. She ran over after seeing the change in his posture and wiped away what she thought were tears. She could read him like a book. Jake and Bradley followed closely behind her.

“Bob? What’s going on?” she asked, concern evident in her expression.

Jake’s smile fell when he saw Bob crying; he had never seen the WSO cry, and he had never seen him so upset. Bradley placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “Talk to us, Bob. Who was that on the phone?”

“It’s, uh…” he paused to clear his throat, “it was my mom. My grandpa, you know, the one from the ranch?”

The three nodded in unison.

“He died… earlier this morning,” the words caused him to get choked up again, the reality of it all hitting home.

Jake sucked in a breath. “Shit, I’m so sorry, Bob.” He took a step closer, closing the gap between them as he pulled him into a hug. “We’re here for you.”

Bradley and Nat joined in, circling Bob and squeezing him between the three of them as he sobbed, shielding him from any prying eyes. After a few minutes, Bob released himself from their comforting embrace and cleared his throat, his emotions still raw. “Thanks. I just... I can’t believe he’s gone.”

The group fell silent for a moment, letting Bob have the space he needed. Then he took a deep breath and straightened his posture. “There’s something else… he left me the ranch.”

Jake’s eyes widened slightly. “He left you the ranch?”

“Yeah, he loved that ranch. Practically built it with his bare hands,” Bob confirmed, nodding. “And it’s mine now… or I guess it’s ours. I don’t know what I’m going to do with it.”

Nat stepped forward, her eyes determined. “You don’t have to decide right now and you don’t have to do this alone. We’ll help you.”

Bradley nodded. “Absolutely. We’re going to figure this out together.”

Bob gave them a grateful smile, the tears still spilling over at his grief but also the gratitude for the people he loved most. They enveloped him in another hug, and he felt just that little bit lighter.

After a discussion with Maverick and the promise of a few days of downtime in between training sessions, the four of them were granted leave to help Bob. They packed up Bradley’s Bronco and all piled in. Nat stayed in the back with Bob as she held him throughout the journey, his emotions all over the place as they headed to the place that had practically raised him into the man he was today. Bradley was in the front with Jake, fighting over who got to pick the music and snacks for the journey as they broke up the driving between them. Despite the tears and minor disagreements, the journey was mostly filled with passing snacks back and forth and Bradley’s playlist that they all sang along to.

The sun filtered through the trees, casting a golden glow over the overgrown fields and stables as they pulled up. The property was both beautiful and overwhelming. Fields of tall grass and wildflowers surrounded a large, but neglected barn; its once bright red paint had faded to a dull shade. The farmhouse, where they all planned to camp out during the renovations, was just as tired and worn, paint peeling from its dusty windows. Memories of his grandparents and the ranch washed over him, filled with both joy and sadness, but it only made him more determined to get the place back to how he remembered it.

Jake, Nat, and Bradley unloaded their gear as they took a look at the ranch. It was huge and it was theirs now. Jake let out a low whistle as he really took in what they were working with. “Wow, this is something else.”

Sure, they had all heard stories from Bob and seen pictures he had shown them from when he was younger, but it was so much bigger than they had expected; so much more beautiful.

Bradley slung an arm around Bob’s shoulders. “You feeling okay?”

Bob nodded, trying to keep his emotions in check. They had their work cut out for them if they were going to get the ranch back to its former glory. “Yeah. Let’s unpack and we can get a sense of what we’re dealing with.” It was sad being back here, but Bob felt good having the distraction and the end goal in sight.

The four of them headed into the farmhouse and unloaded their things before filing out again to assess the different areas of the property. Nat headed to the barn, pulling open the doors to find the place covered in cobwebs and the workbenches covered in a thick layer of dust. She let out a soft chuckle as she brushed off her hands and turned back to look at the three men. “Hope you’re not afraid of spiders, boys.”

Jake looked less than pleased, which caused Bradley to let out a deep laugh as he shook his head and shoved him lightly. They inspected the fields, noting overgrown weeds and unkempt fences. Bradley looked enthusiastic as he took in the view and let out a low whistle. “It needs some serious cleaning, but it’s really not as much work as it looks.”

Once they had had a good look around, the four entered the farmhouse once more. They moved from room to room, noting the state of each and fought over who would have what room. The rooms were filled with dust-covered furniture, faded wallpaper, and the broken-down kitchen made the place feel like a ghost of its former self. Bob felt a pang of emotion as he walked through rooms that had once been filled with his grandparents' presence.

Nat nudged Bob gently. “We’ll get this place back in shape. One step at a time, yeah, baby?”

“I can’t believe how much work this is going to be,” Bob said, running a hand through his hair.

Jake nodded, placing a hand on Bob’s shoulder. “We’re in this together. We’ll make a plan and work through it.”

As the evening began to draw in, Bradley set about grabbing four beers as they sat in the living room and started drawing up a solid plan, dividing out the workload between them. Bradley and Jake would start with the barn, while Bob and Nat tackled packing up what Bob wanted to keep of his grandparents' possessions and what could be sold or thrown away. They settled in for the night, all in various spots around the spacious living room with blankets and pillows as they camped out for the night.

The next morning, as discussed the previous night over their drinks, Bob and Nat started on the farmhouse, cleaning up and making lists of repairs. They discovered old family photographs and mementos tucked away in forgotten corners. Nat loved hearing the stories of his grandparents and seeing a lot of baby photos of Bob, much to his embarrassment. She snapped a few photos on her phone, mainly for bribery purposes she knew would come in handy later.

Bradley and Jake tackled the barn, shifting hay bales and moving out old and broken farm equipment that they would have no use for. Nat and Bob would have been lying if they didn’t sneak a few glances out of the window or while they stood on the porch. Both of their tanned skin glistened in the sun, their muscles flexing in their slightly too-tight white tank tops.

“Like the view, sweethearts,” Jake called over once he had noticed them looking.

By the time the sun began to set once more, the group reconvened for the evening. They sat on the porch of the farmhouse, enjoying pizza and a few more beers as they reviewed their progress.

“We’ve made a good start,” Bradley said, glancing around at the cleared areas.

Nat stretched her arms over her head, her back cracking at the movement. “Yeah, but it’s looking better already.”

Jake raised his bottle in agreement. “We’re turning this place around.”

Bob looked at the group, feeling a deep sense of gratitude. “Thank you for being here. I couldn’t do this without you.”

They clinked their bottles together. The work was far from finished, but the progress was encouraging.

“One day at a time,” Bradley said.

It would take time, but they knew they would get there. The farmhouse would once again be the retreat it had once been for Bob, this time with his new family. The sadness, while still there, had turned into hope for what the future of the ranch would be under his care.

[equibabe]

Day Three of Queer Jane Week, Family

Family Photo Album

Nannasprite and John (pre-June) talk, Nannasprite reminisces.

This is just the beginning of the gender journey for John/June, hence the pronouns and names used. Expanding on my scrawlings. Wedding photo of Nanna and Mr Egbert that is also in this photo album.

Approximately 1776 words.

-

-

John Egbert exits his father's room. It had been a long time, since his birthday many years earlier. They had been on Earth C for more than three years now. It was a particularly hot day in the summer, and somehow John found himself in that previously mythologized place. With the curtains drawn, the heir laid on the floor, stretching out on the carpet. It wasn't that much cooler in here. Under the bed something glinted. John awkwardly contorted and squeezed himself under the bed and pulled out a a small, thin book.

It's a photo album, faded red with shiny gold details and lettering. In a lovely, curly font on the front, the book is titled: Family.

After looking through it a bit, John shuffles out of the room, faster than usual, and heads up the stairs. Entering his room, he finds hanging up by his desk a circular white pendant with a green spirograph embossed on it.

-

JOHN: hey, nanna?

NANNASPRITE: Hello, John!

JOHN: could you come to my house?

JOHN: i had a question about some stuff. about you.

NANNASPRITE: Oh? Well, I am flattered, but I don't know what you could want to know about me. Regardless, I'll be on my way!

-

Barely two minutes had passed before Nannasprite oozed through the kitchen door.

-

NANNASPRITE: Hoo hoo! Hello?

JOHN: in here, nanna.

-

She floats, gently aglow like neon, into the slightly darkened living room. She flips on a light switch with her disembodied harlequin hand. Her ectobiological son, her grandson, sat on the far left side of the couch, a book in his lap. Red, with shimmering gold details. He looks tired, hair a bit long, most likely unshowered, sparse facial hair populating his features.

-

NANNASPRITE: You are sitting in the dark, dearie! It's not good for your eyes to read in the dark.

-

Nannasprite floats over in front of John. His fingers feel the corners of the photo album and he's looking at it. It's open to a familiar section.

-

JOHN: ...

NANNASPRITE: I am talking to myself?

JOHN: oh, sorry nanna!

JOHN: i found this today, in my dads room. it's pretty old looking.

NANNASPRITE: It is old, at least compared to a youngin' like you! I put this photo album together when I was pregnant with your father.

JOHN: when was that?

NANNASPRITE: I got the album itself Christmas of 1953, and I started to put it together right away.

JOHN: i hadn't finished going through it.

-

John flips through the pages to the end.

-

JOHN: i don't see any pictures of my dad in here.

NANNASPRITE: There aren't any in there, and I'm afraid many of your father's childhood pictures were lost when you were born and I died. I loved to keep pictures at work.

JOHN: oh, sorry about that, nanna.

NANNASPRITE: Hoo hoo! It's not your fault, love. And there still are some pictures, you should check his study.

NANNASPRITE: Was that all you wanted to ask me?

JOHN: well, I just wanted to know who the people in here are.

-

John flips to an early page of the album. Centred in the middle of the page is a photograph of two young children and a large dog.

-

JOHN: i can tell that's jade's grandpa. and that's your dog?

NANNASPRITE: Yes, that's Halley. He was a very good dog.

-

John flips forward several pages and a few decades.

-

JOHN: who's this?

-

Nannasprite settles onto the seat next to John, and John slides the album over. Nannasprite holds the right hand side, while John holds the left.

The photograph is unlabeled like all the rest, but Nannasprite remembers everything about it. It was 1936, Nanna was still Jane Crocker, and she is standing with her arm over the shoulder of a woman. The two were on a beach, a sandy hill with tufts of marsh grass rises behind them. Jane has her hair cut very short, no fluffiness or thickness to it. She's wearing an old style swimsuit, boxy striped shorts with a neat string strap top, conservative by today's standards. They were emerald green and white, Nannasprite remembered. She was holding her glasses in her free hand.

Her companion is also attired for swimming. She is wearing a one piece, covering the very top of her legs, with wider straps and a v shaped collar. She is wearing a round, white sunhat, and her wavy hair just brushes the top of her shoulders. It's mousy and if the photograph was in colour, it would be dark blonde. She's holding onto Jane's hand over her shoulder, while with her other hand she's pulling Jane closer to her around her hip.

-

JOHN: nanna?

NANNASPRITE: That is your father's aunt. The sister of his father.

JOHN: i didn't know i had a great-aunt. what's her name?

-

Nannasprite places a hand on the bottom of the page. It was so long ago.

-

NANNASPRITE: She didn't like her name. She said 'no looker was ever named Paula.' Of course, that's not true, but she insisted that we not call her that.

JOHN: great-aunt paula. well, it does sound like an old lady name. no offense, nanna.

NANNASPRITE: HOO HOO! John, I am old. And being a sprite, I'm only going to get older.

JOHN: what did you call her if you couldn't call her 'paula'?

-

She remembered that day the picture was taken, not the exact date, but the events of the day. They packed up early in the morning and hiked to the beach. It had been particularly hot the previous day, and they planned to take advantage of the heat and sunny weather. They took the Brownie with them, carefully wrapping the camera in an extra towel. They asked someone passing by to take a picture of them, and he obliged. After, they spent the day floating and splashing in the water. They had ice cream for lunch, and didn't get back home until the sun was close to setting. They were starved, but they were used to it. They opened all the windows to let the night air in as they ate biscuits, corned beef and pickles for dinner, close to nine o'clock at night.

Jane and Paula worked in clubs and on stage, Jane, as a comedian and performer, while Paula was a dancer and actress. They didn't often work together, instead they would watch each other. They shared a small apartment, a small kitchenette and living area, with common washrooms shared with other tenants of the building. That night they slept without any covers, just them in their nightclothes.

It wasn't until the fall that they had taken enough photographs to get the film developed with this photograph. They divided the photographs between the two of them, and this was one of the ones Jane got.

There were many more photographs, but most were with Paula, the lost flame of her youth. Some others had been lost, like those in the jokeshop when John arrived on his meteor, and Jane met her temporary end. Jane only displayed a couple of the photos she had, ones where the two of them appeared simply as dear acquaintances. But she wasn't called Paula...

-

NANNASPRITE: John, she was called John.

JOHN: what?

JOHNL wait, really??

NANNASPRITE: HOO HOO HOO! No, you silly goose. I got you! Hoo!

NANNASPRITE: ...

NANNASPRITE: She liked to be called January.

JOHN: like, the month?

NANNASPRITE: Yes, it was her birth month.

NANNASPRITE: It was also very unconventional. 'No looker' might've been called 'Paula', but there certainly were no lookers called January, because no one used that as a name.

JOHN: it is a bit strange.

NANNASPRITE: It was a lot more strange in the thirties.

JOHN: that's when this is from?

NANNASPRITE: Summer of '36.

-

Nannasprite took a last glance at the faces in the photograph and then tenderly turned the page.

-

NANNASPRITE: Now, in this picture....

-

-

John and Nannasprite spent the rest of the day visiting. It had been a while since the two of them had. From his doomed timeline, only he, Roxy, and Nannasprite remained. Now there were two, but the alpha timeline Nannasprite had lost her John many years before, and was closer with Jade because of it.

Nannasprite adds tantalizing hints about the past, about John's dad's dad, about Betty Crocker, about life all the way through the 1910s to 1990s. She wouldn't go into detail, changing the subject, throwing in some jokes, redirecting the conversation. She skirted around great-aunt Paula, January, the most.

She prepared a homecooked meal for John, schnitzel and casear salad, she had John help her make some simple apple muffins for breakfast.

It was a lovely day, it left John feeling recharged. That evening, he got out his razor and shaving cream, and trimmed down the hairs on his face and neck. After rinsing, he rubs his hands over his face, hands still catching

He settles into bed, window open to let the night breeze blow in. The unfamiliar stars of this new universe sparkle in the sky. His thoughts drift back to the pictures in the photo album. Pictures of Nanna as a child, a young woman, a marriage portrait with a man who looked very similar to his dad. And those couple of photographs of his previously unknown great-aunt. January.

John imagines that It must have been even more unusual back then to use 'January' are a personal name. In modern times there were people with months as names, but only a few.

January sounds like a huge mouthful, John thought. Something with one syllable might flow easier. There weren't many single syllable months though, in English at least.

March, sounds a bit rough. May, probably the most common name, nice, but not for me.

John's looks out the window, the glow of distant city lights present on the horizon.

That only leaves...

"June." John breathes silently. It's a little bit old fashioned, but it's certainly not over used. Not a mouthful like 'January'

Nannasprite floats unseen in the open bedroom doorway. She gently runs her hand over the scruffy hair of her grandchild. She smiles, giving a gentle pat on the arm. Something was bothering her grandchild more than usual, but she would be ready to talk when John was ready. She hangs the sprite pendant from a peg near the desk, and silently floats out and down the stairs, waiting until morning to spend more time with her ectobiological child, her grandchild.

That night, in her own mind at least, Jane would spend some time with January. The jokes, the antics, the dancing, the holding, the loving, quietly, the two of them.

[notroosterbradshaw]

Your most memorable scene for me was defo rooster with baby ava in uncle brooster, literally the cutest thing ever!

I loved writing this fic, pure fluff! I'm so glad you enjoyed Uncle Brooster too, bb xx

Tell me my most memorable scene from my fics.

...as you wandered through the masses of guests, someone gently checked you with their hip as you passed and Rooster grinned at you… holding your six-month-old niece, Ava, in his strong arms tenderly.

Well, this was a new development.

“Hi,” he said quietly, lowering to kiss you gently, you cupped his cheek. “I missed you, sweet girl.” 

Shocked, you nodded at Ava. “Me too. I’m so sorry I’m late,” you said, extremely distracted by the sight before you. Rooster chewed his bottom lip, incredibly pleased with himself – he enjoyed rendering you speechless. It didn’t happen easily and it certainly didn’t happen often. “Stealing hearts and infants now?” you teased as he nodded, letting his grin rip wide across his tanned features, you know those warm honey-coloured eyes were dancing behind his mirrored aviators.

“Looks like it.”

“Are you okay? Do you need me to take her?” Something to distract me from looking at you with a baby, perhaps? He shook his head as Ava held his long, slender index finger in her soft hand and he watched her keenly, a little taken with her himself. She was a true beauty. Annie had told him Ava was your dead ringer as a baby, and he could almost believe it.

“I’m good,” he promised. “I’d love a beer though.”

“I think I can do that,” you told him as he smiled and turned his attention back to Ava, cooing in his deep rasp that almost made you want to cry.

Heading to the cooler, you greeted some of Grandpa’s former Top Gun students and Rooster’s superiors as you grabbed Rooster a beer and picked up the champagne bottle for yourself as Annie sidled over to you to say hello.

“Didn’t think you were ever gonna get here. How are those ovaries?” she smiled, nodding over her shoulder to Rooster who was still gently rocking a dozing Ava in his arms. “Give that man a baby, and give that man a baby now.”

“Oh, my God,” you sighed. “Make yourself useful,” you shoved Rooster’s beer and a champagne flute into her hands, popping the bottle and pouring yourself a generous glassful. “You want?”

“No, Ava will need to be fed shortly,” she replied as you took the drinks back.

“Was this your ploy?” you asked, looking back at Rooster.

Christ, was his chest broader today? Was it arms day? He did mention he went for a run on the phone earlier. He usually broke it up and used some of the free equipment near the beach if he felt particularly energetic. He looked so good. You mean, he always did. Sunglasses now in his sun-kissed curls, casual in a crisp white linen shirt untucked over a pair of khaki shorts and barefoot in the plush grass. He was not remotely interested in fashion, but just one of those people with that body that everything fit him perfectly. You groaned that you had to wait to love on him properly, without the gaze of your family and his higher-ups even if it wasn’t a workday. You were already imagining stripping him of that beautifully offensive shirt -  

[jhilsara]

Tie Me to You / Chapter 1

Welcome to a silly little rewrite of the first Seduce Me (the otome) Follows the same general path of the original game. Mika is 21 and in her last year of college instead of high school and all the boys have aged up too. These are adults in their early to late twenties.

I love this game but I have some things I wish the story did instead. This is my little rewrite, mostly just Sam's story. Don't take this too seriously. I'm writing this for me and my friends got invested too so I'm sharing!

Enjoy if it's for you and if it's not that's fine too!

Can also be found on AO3 X

Word Count: 2.3k

Next>

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of death and grief, emotional/physical abuse from parental figures

This fanfic will explore heavier emotions and will have eventual smut. Minors DNI

Time, curious time

Gave me no compasses, gave me no signs

Were there clues I didn't see?

invisible strings - Taylor Swift

Chapter 1

It’s the coldest day in the middle of February when she finds out the news. She’s bundled in a comfortable fleece coat, her laptop bag hitting her legs, as she quickly tries to get to the other side of campus for her next class. Her phone’s been ringing since her last class, she’s sent every single one to voicemail, but she finally picks up as she navigates the streets to her destination. 

“Hello?” she answers in a rushed tone.

“I’ve been calling you for the past hour! Why didn’t you pick up?” her mother’s shrill voice shrieks.

Mika stiffens from the tone her mother uses, “You and dad told me to not answer my phone during classes. So, I didn’t.” she responds trying to keep her irritation in check.

“Not for emergencies!” her mother's tone is clipped.

Mika rolls her eyes, emergencies from her mother never are that important. There's a heavy sigh over the phone. She can almost feel the impatience prickling through.

“Your grandfather passed today.” Her mother’s voice is quieter, but not soft.

Mika stops in her tracks shocked, “What…?”

“Your grandfather died earlier today sweetie. Your father got the call from the hospital.” Her mother tells her with a practiced ease. As if she wasn't telling her daughter her only grandfather is gone.

“…but he, he was fine. I saw him earlier this week. I was coming over later today for a late lunch.” Mika responds in disbelief, voice shaky.

“I know you were close to him. I’m sorry. Your father’s already arranging the funeral for-”

“Was he alone?” she cuts her mother off, asking in a small voice.

“Excuse me? Say that again honey, you’re too quiet.” Her mother’s voice feels far away and cold. It's indifferent.

“Was he alone… was anyone with him when he passed?” she asks again more frantic.

She's frozen on the sidewalk and she feels like the world should be as well. She knows better though, the world around her moves, people pass her, but she’s unmoving.

Her world has stopped. 

“Um…” her mother pauses on the other line, clearly uncomfortable. “Yes. He was home alone.”

 Mika’s silent, processing but not really. She thinks she’s going to be sick.

Her mother clears her throat, “Well, your father is making funeral arrangements for tomorrow or Friday. Whichever he can get first.”

“…What? Does anyone else know? That’s not enough time to let people know or even get flowers, or-” she starts spiraling, anger filling her body.

“Your father doesn’t want any of that.” Her mother cuts her off. “He wants a simple and short funeral service that’s family only.”

Her mouth hangs open in shock, “Mom you can’t be serious?" her tone is laced in rage.

"Grandpa never wanted a small funeral service and I know he would want his company board members there, he loved them!” Mika’s pacing the courtyard she’s in. She wants to yell into the sky and at her parents.

“Honey your father is handling it. You don’t need to worry about it at all.” Her mother dismisses her.

“That’s not-” She’s raising her voice but stops. She takes a deep breath, her irritation rising. “That’s not what I mean. I’m saying that he is not doing anything grandpa wanted and it’s wrong!” she tries emphasizes. She’s pleading for her mother to understand.

She can almost feel her mother rolling her eyes, “Honey it’s fine. If your grandfather cared about his funeral it would have been in the will. Anyways his executor of estate will be there to go over it with us.” her mother doesn't hide the exhaustion in her voice, as if explaining this is so much work for her.

Mika is shaking. She bites her tongue knowing better than to argue.

“Anyway, go to class and come home. We’ll let you know if you need to go to your classes tomorrow or not. I’ll see you tonight.”

No love you or goodbyes and her mother hangs up the phone.

“Like hell I’m going to class after that…” she mumbles to herself and shoves her phone in her pocket.

Mika looks around noticing she’s alone in the quad. The cold keeping people inside and most classes have already started. She sighs and pulls at her hair in frustration. She decides to go on a walk. She needs to be alone.

She walks briskly to her car and throws her bag inside of it. She shoves headphones in and walks into the biting cold of her university streets. She shoves her hands in her pockets but if offers no warmth, she’s already numb.

When it’s time for her to go home she goes straight to her room. Her mother and father aren’t home yet and she wants them to stay out. She doesn’t want to talk to anyone.

She locks her door and just lays on her bed. She silently cries, trying to not make any noise, and clinging to her pillow. She stays like that for hours.

Mika wasn’t close with her grandfather growing up but during high school and college, it was all her parents could do to stop her from moving in with him. Her father and him have never gotten along. Her father tried to keep Mika away as a kid. She still saw him, but only during holidays as a kid. She doesn’t know why her father hates him so much, but her grandfather never discussed it with her either.

She does know that her grandfather would never want her father handling his affairs.

Someone knocks on her door and she ignores it. Her lights are off and she’s been laying in her bed disassociating for hours. They’ll think she’s asleep.

“Mika?” it’s her father, in his cold tone of voice.

She rolls over. And pulls her covers up more. Her doors locked, but he has a key.

“I know you’re in there, your cars parked outside.” He tries to lighten his tone, but she hears the underlying anger. She curls into herself and closes her eyes, hoping he’ll think she’s asleep.

He comes in and sees her under the covers, he pauses for two seconds before leaving. Quietly shutting her door.

She sighs in relief and the tension leaves her shoulders. She relaxes into her bed and genuinely tries to go to sleep.

Friday morning she’s standing in freezing rain watching strangers lower her grandfather into a grave. She grips the umbrella with icy hands and her tears go unnoticed as they wash away with the rain.

They start piling the dirt in and she can’t watch. Mika turns away and walks a few paces away.

She doesn’t make it far before lawyers are in front of her unloading information onto her.

“Miss Anderson we are your grandfather’s lawyers, we are here as the executors of estate.” One of the men tell her.

She’s cold, wet, and numb as these men look at her with pity. Her father interrupts before they can continue to talk to her.

“You don’t need to consult my daughter about my father’s affairs. Please only discuss them with me. That's why I asked you to come.” He tells the men in a harsh tone. His hand is placed on her shoulder and her fathers grip is tight. It's not reassuring. 

One of them lifts his brow at her father, “We need to discuss this in an office and it surely does only involve Miss Anderson. I’m the executor of the estate.”

Her fathers face goes red. He silently marches along and storms into the car. Her mother pauses, looks at her for a second to debate if her daughter is more important than the temper tantrum of her husband, before picking him like she always has.

Mika watches her mother briskly walk in heels far too high, through the dirt, to their family car.

“Miss Anderson please come with us, we can give you any ride you need. We must discuss your grandfather’s will.”

She nods and follows the men, but she’s not really listening. Her body moves on its own.

She’s silent in the car and once the men lead her into a small office. They ease her into a chair and start going through her grandfather’s will with her.

“Miss Anderson you are here because your grandfather, Harold Anderson, has left you with all of his belongings, home, and the company Anderson Toys…”

She hears the lawyers talking to her, she does, but it washes away in her head after the first sentence.

Her head’s spinning with questions, mostly why.

She doesn’t understand why she is being given literally everything her grandfather built and made, and not her father. Did they hate each other that much?

She starts to panic slightly thinking about her father, he was going to kill her.

His own father didn’t leave him a single thing… it all went to her, including passing down the CEO position of the company. She doesn’t even want to be a part of this company.

She doesn’t want to go home, not when she knows he’ll be there, waiting.

“Miss Anderson do you understand?” One of the lawyers speaks to her, breaking her chain of thought.

“Uh, yeah. I guess.” She mumbles.

One of them sighs, “We’ll give you a hard copy explaining everything. For now, we can give you the keys to his estate as well as his cards and bank account information. You’ll have to go to those banks in person to become the new account holder, but it should go over smoothly with the documents we give you.”

She nods her head, but still isn’t paying attention to them. They put the documents in her hands and escort her back to a vehicle to take her home.

She’d give anything to not have to walk into that house.

She takes a deep breath before she opens the door. Hoping her parents aren’t home. She closes the door quietly behind her, but it’s too late. Her father emerges from the dining room arms crossed with a furious glare on his face.

“So, what’s the verdict? Oh, chosen one.” He asks her mockingly. Her mother is nowhere to be found, not that she would help.

Mika flinches in response. She avoids her father’s furious gaze.

“Why do you even care? Does it even matter?” she sighs, already feeling defeated and just wishing to go to bed already. Even if it's only early afternoon.

“Don’t use that tone with me young lady. You still live under my roof.” He tells her sternly.

Anger fills Mika’s body. She’s tired, furious, and honestly sick of her father.

“I’m exhausted and I would like to go to bed, so if you don’t mind, I’m going to my room.” She tries to stomp past him to the stairs but he blocks her.

“Excuse me? I am your father, do not disrespect me in my home! You’re not going anywhere until you show me those documents!” he’s shouting at her now.

Mika’s mother finally shows herself, she comes around the corner and stops. She’s staring at the two of them, looking spent but refusing to help. Her cold eyes almost look through her daughter. Like she’s transparent.

She flinches back, but keeps her glare steady, “I don’t have to show you shit. Newsflash, he left me everything. Point blank. There is nothing in these documents that mention you or are for you.” She spits out in venom.

His face darkens and he steps towards Mika, “Give. Me. Those. Documents. Now.” He hisses out towards her.

“Why? Why should I? Like I said there is nothing in here for you. Don’t act like you suddenly care about Grandpa when all you did was keep him away from me for years!” Mika’s yelling at him with as much hate that she can muster. Her grip on the document folder tight, afraid he’ll reach for them.

“You did not know him!” his voice raises to match hers and she can see his veins popping out.

“And whose fault is that?!” she replies, face twisted in anguish.

“Mika please.” Her mother huffs in exasperation and arms crossed.

She whips her head to look at her mother in disbelief.

“You didn’t know a damn thing about that man or what he was capable of! Do not talk to me as if you knew him!” her father gets her attention back by shoving a finger in her face. His face is twisted in rage and red as a tomato.

“At least Grandpa loved me and cared about what I even want to do with my life! You never have supported any interest of mine outside of the toy company!” Mika’s eyes are tearing up, the grief in her heart wells up almost vomits out of her at a veracity she can’t control or hold on to anymore.

Her father matches her in this emotional warfare and she is unprepared as his hand comes into contact with her face. He slaps her.

It’s enough to send her a step or two back from the force and the shock.

“Don’t you ever talk to me like that when I feed you and put a roof over your head.” His voice is low and calm, but the untold threat is there. If she doesn’t comply he’ll do more than just a slap.

She looks over to her mother for help and sees her turn her back and walk back to the other room in silence.

She holds her cheek and glares daggers at the man before her, “Fine. Then you won’t have to provide those things for me anymore. I’m leaving.”

She shoves past him to walk up the stairs, his voice follows, “Where will you go?” he’s scoffing at her, “You have no money!”

She turns around to face him, standing above him now, “Don’t you know?” she asks in a mocking tone, “I have a mansion and plenty of money now. The state and the company are mine!” she laughs coldly at him. “You finally got what you wanted, me to be apart of the company. Follow the ‘family business’, right?”

Her fathers face pales before he’s screaming, veins in his neck popping, “Ungrateful brat! Rot in that house like he did!”

She slams her bedroom door and starts shoving her things into bags. The sooner she can leave the better.

She grabs everything she knows she wants to take and the rest is just things being thrown together. It’s a mess, she leaves behind more than she would like.

She never plans to set foot in this house again.

As she rushes down to throw her things in her car, she passes her mother near the door, who just stares at her. Her mothers silence is more than enough. Mika knows where her mother stands, and it was never by her side. Not once in her twenty one years.

Mika slams the door and hopes it cracks as she storms to her car.