#my head for a few months and i really want to see that come to life

[p1astr81]

‘tis the damn season

in which: Oscar’s ex calls him up one afternoon, proposing that they fake their relationship for a week at her parent’s house.

pairing: Oscar Piastri x fem!reader

warnings: loosely based on the TS song, use of y/n (once or twice), Oscar is hella whipped, cursing, idk I think that’s all.

wc: 7.3k

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Your thumb hovered over the call button, mentally preparing for the awkward conversation that was about to take place. Your chest rose and fell in deep motions.

Before you could psych yourself out, your finger mashed the call button.

���Oh my god, please don’t pick up. Please don’t pick up. Please don’t pick up. Please don’t p-“ he answered after the second ring. “Hey!” Your voice shook, an embarrassing amount of vulnerability.

“Y/n? Has something happened? You sound… on edge.”

You pulled at the strings of the blanket draped across your lap. “Well, I have a very big favor to ask of you, and of course you can say no. I mean it’s a huge favor—really weird actually,” you laughed awkwardly.

“It can’t be that bad.”

It was tough to swallow the lump in your throat. “My whole family want to spend next week at our cabin, and I…” it was suddenly hard for you to breathe, your heart ten pounds heavier. Oscar remained silent. “Well,” you sighed, “would you be able to come along?”

The silence on the other end was deafening. Not even distant breath. The static filtering through the speakers inflated your anxiety with every passing second.

“Okay.” He gave in with a breath. “Just text me the details.”

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SUNDAY

Living out in Nice, the drive to his Monaco apartment wasn’t unbearably far. You stepped out of the car to help him put his bags in your trunk. You’d decided to take your car because, changes are, it would do better in the mountains than his McLaren.

When you rounded to the back of the car, the trunk was already closed, and soon the sound of your driver’s door shutting reached your ears.

You found Oscar occupying the driver’s seat. “What are you doing?” You raised a brow. Oscar smiled innocently. “have you ever driven when we are together?” It was a question not meant to be answered. You didn’t fight him, knowing it was a losing game. You just rolled your eyes and took up your place in the passenger’s seat.

You and Oscar traveled in near silence, only your music filling the empty air. The atmosphere was light, rid of all the awkwardness you assumed would hang around the both of you. Maybe Oscar was just easy company to keep.

You allowed your thoughts to travel far away from you, to the past to be exact.

You and Oscar didn’t end things messy. Not at all. It was a mutual agreement. In your year and a half together, you didn’t have many spats. Every day spent with together was brimming with endless devotion.

The problem arose when your schedules began to conflict.

With dreams of being a mechanical engineer, a lot of your time was spent on your studies. Oscar knew how dedicated you were, and therefore never pushed you to travel with him. But only seeing him for a few weeks of the year—less than half of them—began to strain your relationship. Mentally, it was draining the both of you.

So to focus on your studies, and for Oscar to focus on his career, you decided to part ways.

That was two months ago, and you’d been no contact ever since. Well, until you asked him to come with you to your parent’s cabin.

You felt a poke on your shoulder, followed by a “hey” and a laugh. You tore your eyes from the window, peering at Oscar with raised brows. “Where’re you at?” He grinned at you, taking glances out of the corner of his eye.

“Hm? Oh. Just thinking.” You shook your head, watching as the buildings transitioned into dead trees as you left Monaco’s limits.

He hummed a response, leaving a gap of silence before asking, “so, why did you want me to come along?”

You sighed, your hands falling to your lap. “You know how they are. They think I can’t keep a guy, and… I don’t know, I was hoping if they’d see you and think you’re still with me then their image of me would change.”

Oscar frowned. Reflexes guiding his movements, he reached out to you, having every intention to place a hand on your thigh or over your own hand. He caught himself before it got that far, placing his hand on the center console instead. The role of comforting you was no longer his part to play.

“It’s stupid, I’m sorry. We should turn around I’ll just-“

“It’s not stupid.” He cut you off. “I think it sucks, and I’ll help you the best I can.” He assured, giving you a soft smile, one you returned. “Thanks, Os.”

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You and Oscar were the last to arrive at the cabin on Sunday night.

He followed in behind you. His eyes widened when he saw the whole family in the living room. Your parents, two sisters, your two aunts on your moms side, and your four cousins. Not to mention all of their significant others and your niece and nephew. In all, it was about sixteen people.

He leaned in close to your ear, whispering, “I didn’t realize you meant the whole family.” You shivered as his warm breath hit your skin. Goosebumps spread across your entire body. “It’s as much as a shock to me.” You told him truthfully.

Your mom saw you first, jumping up and running to greet you. “Oh! I’ve missed you.” She greeting, smothering you in a hug. Her strong floral perfume nearly choked you to death. “Missed you too, mom.” You forced yourself away before the noxious scent took you out completely.

Meanwhile, your uncle, Isaac, had kidnapped Oscar, dragging him away with a tight hold around his neck. “Oscar! My boy, good to see you’re still hangin in there.” Uncle Isaac was sure to stare dead in your eyes while saying the last part. The way he laughed at himself made Oscar’s stomach twist. His face remained straight, not a hint of amusement in sight.

“Hey, Uncle Isaac.” Oscar greeted politely.

Little five year old Theo jumped up, running toward Oscar. “Oscar!” He cheered, nearly toppling over from excitement. Oscars ability to move was inhibited when Theo latched around his legs. Isaac let go of Oscar.

“Hey mate!” Oscar greeted with equal enthusiasm, hoisting the kid up into his arms. Oscar held Theo over his head, and Theo spread his arms and legs out. “Mom look! I’m an airplane!” He cheered, making airplane noises. Lia, your sister, nearly had a heart attack when she turned to see what her son was talking about. “Okay, I think that’s enough airplane.” She rushed to Oscar’s side, who let Theo down. “Aww,” Theo pouted, crossing his arms and walking right past his mom, ignoring her.

Oscar felt a tug on his pants. Looking down, he was met with the large doe eyes of Theo’s twin sister, Thalia. She waved shyly under his gaze. He bent down to chat with her closer, pointing out the doll clutched in her hand. “That’s a pretty doll.” He smiled. “What’s her name?”

Thalia swayed herself from side to side. “Lillia.” She muttered. Oscar gasped softly. “That’s a pretty name.”

While Oscar was being bombarded by the children, you’d been dragged to the living room to greet all of your relatives.

“Ah, I see you’ve kept this one longer than a year. That’s a new record.” You uncle Leni laughed, embracing you loosely. You gave a half-assed laugh, though it hurt massively. You thought you could’ve avoided these kinds of comments if Oscar was here with you, but now it seems you’ve dragged him out here for no reason.

You should’ve known better.

“Are you still going for that mechanical engineering degree?” Your aunt Anne asked a bit of a judgy tone. She sat next to her husband Leni while swirling a drink in her hand. You nodded, sitting next to your sister Katie on the floor. “And you’re still aiming for a job with f1?” You gave another nod.

“Are you sure? I mean, isn’t that a bit unrealistic?”

Cocking your head to the side you asked, “what do you mean by that?” Your tone was harsh and accusatory. Anne shrugged. “Well, it isn’t really a place for a woman is it? If you look in any of those garages, it’s mostly men.”

You felt the anger swirling deep in your stomach, brewing a deeper feeling of resentment. You open your mouth to speak when Oscar’s voice joined the conversation from behind you.

“Yeah it is mostly men, but that doesn’t mean she can’t do it.” Oscar shrugged, taking a seat next to you. Close enough to not raise suspicion, but far enough to not be touching. You looked to him with raised brows. “I think she can do it. Last year, she majorly helped the team fix an issue with the car. And that was only in her third year of school.”

Uncle Leni laughed. “Eh, she’s got as good of a chance as any man.” He waved a hand through the air. For a moment, you thought he actually was showing some support. “She’s dating one of the drivers.” He motioned a hand toward Oscar, laughing loudly. Everyone else in the room chuckled.

You stood abruptly. “Excuse me, I need the restroom.” You muttered, trying your best not to run away from the family.

With worried eyes, Oscar watched as you disappeared down the hall. He had never been a violent man, but right now, he really wanted to take your uncle by the collar of his shirt and chuck him over the balcony to send him tumbling down the side of the mountain. Of course, he did not.

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As the family was winding down and preparing for bed, a realization hit you. If it was a physical force, it would’ve knocked you through a wall.

While Oscar helped you straighten up the living room, you leaned closer to him, whispering, “We have to share a bed.” Oscar turned his head over his shoulder to look at you with a raised brow. “What?” He genuinely had not heard you. “We have to share a room. And a bed.”

The color drained from Oscar’s face. “Oh,” he muttered, crossing the living room to create distance between you two.

When the two of you entered the room a little later that night, the air between you became tense and awkward.

“I’ll sleep in the floor.” Oscar proposed, making you shake your head quickly. “I can’t ask that of you. I dragged you out here.”

“I chose to come out here.” He reminded you. Your eyes drifted to the king sized bed. “I think it’ll be fine. We’ll just stay on our own sides.”

You moved a pillow, creating a physical barrier between your two sides of the bed. You faced him, motioning your hands to the quick fix as a way to say, see?

Oscar shrugged. “I guess.”

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MONDAY

The family was off to the slopes the next morning. Oscar and yourself driving Theo and Thalia because your nephew was attached to Oscar, and Thalia was always by her brother’s side.

When you got there, Theo started dragging Oscar toward the small slopes. “I want to race you! I bet I’m faster than you.” Oscar laughed. “I was going to go down the big kid slopes.” Oscar pointed to the much steeper slope. Theo frowned. “But I can’t go to the big kid slopes.” He crossed his arms over his chest. It was hard for Oscar to deny Theo anything, so he looked to you with a question in his eyes. You gave him a small nod.

“Are you coming with us?” Thalia’s small voice asked form next to you, her hands, encased in bright pink gloves, gripping her goggles. You glanced up at Oscar and hummed. “Sure, why not?” You smiled, taking Thalias hand in yours and joining Oscar and Theo as they waited for a lift.

Oscar didn’t seem surprised that you had also wound up stuck with the kiddies. “I can look after the both of them if you want to go with the rest of my family.”

Oscar’s face scrunches up, like that idea inflicted physical pain upon his person. He shook his head. “Nah, I’m not a big fan of skiing anyway, so I think the kiddie slopes are the perfect pace for me.” He flashed one of his charming grins at you. You gave a small smile in response.

You flagged down Lia and Dylan, informing them from a distance that you and Oscar were looking over their kids. They seemed overly satisfied that the responsibility was taken away from them.

“I’m scared.” Thalia’s little voice squeaked from next to you. You smiled down at her, a comforting hand on her head. “It’s alright, Thal, I’ll stay with you.” You crouch down in front of her. “I’ll make sure you’re nice and safe. I pinky promise.” You offered your pinky to her. She hesitantly hooked your pinky with hers, splitting your lips into a smile.

Oscar called your name, causing you to look up at him with wide eyes. At the sight of your curious doe-eyed expression, he fought off a smile that tried to surface on his face. Half failing, he ended up with a slanted smile. “The lift.” He explained shortly.

The four of you piled in together. Thalia and Theo in the middle while Oscar and yourself occupied the outsides.

Thalia hung onto your ski pants when you got off. Theo and Oscar took off down the mountain, racing each other just as Theo wished. You could tell Oscar was majorly holding back, though.

“You’ve got it, Thal, you’ve done this before.” You reassured her and she gave you a small nod. You kept your pace slow at first, waiting for Thalia to catch up with every movement so you didn’t stray too far away.

But she eventually gained her confidence, and even tried to be faster than you. You let her fly on the skis ahead of you. It was easier to keep an eye on her that way.

At the bottom of the slope stood Oscar and Theo, waiting for the both of you. “So who won?”

“Me!” Theo tried to jump but his skis weighed him down. You turned to Oscar. “Getting beat by a kid? Shame. Better luck next time.” You teased.

Oscar smiled. “He’s just too good.”

Apparently, you and Oscar had been smiling at each other for too long, because Theo gags. “Yuck! Come on I want to beat you again.” Theo urged, leading the group as he walked back to the lift station.

Oscar was quick to follow, then you and Thalia. Thalia called your name once again. “What’s up, hon?” You replied.

Her eyes were trained on Oscar’s backside. “I think Oscar is pretty.” She confessed. You didn’t laugh, only smiled softly at her. “Really? Would you like me to tell him that?”

She hesitated for a moment, then shook her head. “No. He’s too old for me.” You chuckled.

Later that night, as you’re around the table eating dinner, sat next to Oscar, she tells him for herself.

She came between your chairs, tapping Oscar’s arm twice. He leaned down at her signal for him to come closer. His brows shot up when she told him. “Really? Well thank you. I think you’re a cutie, Thal.” At that, her face flushed a furious shade of red and scurried back to her seat beside her brother.

“Now she’s going to think you have a crush on her.” You whispered in his ear. A chill ran down his spine at the feeling of your breath contacting his bare skin. He tried his best to ignore how it made him feel.

He grinned. “I’m sure she won’t.”

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TUESDAY

She definitely did.

Now Theo and Thalia were attached to Oscar for completely different reasons.

When Thalia saw Oscar the next morning, the first thing she did was compliment him. “I like your hair.” She said from her spot on the couch. Oscar first glanced at you before looking at her. “I just woke up like this.” He brushed it off, smiling.

But the compliments didn’t stop. When you went out again to ski, she insisted on sitting next to him on the lift, and told him, “your goggles are cool.”

They were plain black goggles.

“You have pretty eyes.” During lunch.

Pointing to his plain maroon colored shirt during dinner and saying, “I like your shirt.”

Wedging between the both of you during movie night and telling Oscar he smelt good.

“I like your toothbrush,” while he was getting ready for bed.

Anything she could compliment him on, she did. And it started to freak you out a bit. “Oscar you’ve gotta tell her you’re just friends.” You advised while fluffing up your pillow. “It’s a harmless crush,” he ran a hand through his hair. “She’ll probably be over it by tomorrow.”

You doubted it. “And what if she isn’t?” You threw your pillow on your side of the bed. Oscar laid on his side, raising a brow at you. “Are you jealous of a five year old?” He teased.

You scoffed, sitting cross legged on your side of the bed. “There’s nothing to be jealous about. For one, she’s a five year old and you’re not a pedophile. And for two, we aren’t even together.”

Oscar shifted uncomfortably at the reminder. “If she isn’t over it by tomorrow, then I’ll make it clear that we’re just friends.” He chuckled, shaking his head. He thought it was a little ridiculous that he had to clarify to a five year old that they were just friends.

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WEDNESDAY

Oscar was proved wrong first thing in the morning, because as you and him came out to eat breakfast, Thalia was sitting in your spot. “I told you.” You muttered before taking Thalias empty chair.

Oscar whispered something to Theo, who moved over to take Oscar’s seat right after. You looked to him with furrowed brows, a silent request for an explanation. “Told him I’d buy him whatever candy he wanted at the markets today if he swapped with me.” You laughed loudly, a hand on Oscar’s shoulder to stabilize yourself as you doubled over. “You’ll come to regret that decision.” You forewarned.

On the way to the markets, Thalia tried to convince you to let her sit up front with Oscar. The whole time while telling her no, you were glaring at Oscar. He held back a smile at your fierce looks.

But she won one over you when you arrived at the markets. She clung onto Oscar’s hand like it was her lifeline. “Your daughter is stealing my boyfriend.” You muttered to Lia. She laughed before calling her daughter over to her. Thalia reluctantly listened, latching onto her mother’s hand instead.

You took the five year old’s place next to Oscar. “I suppose we should hold hands then.” He whispered close to your ear, gesturing to the intwined fingers of your relatives. “You know, to keep up the act.” He reasoned.

Though truly, a part of Oscar just may have just wanted to hold your hand for the sake of just holding your hand. No act about it.

You peered up at him, eyes widened slightly. “Uh- well- if you don’t have a problem with it.” Oscar smiled at the way you stumbled over your words.

You appreciated the warmth his hand provided. The December air was biting at you with every small gust of wind that blew through. At a particularly strong gust, you instinctively hid your face in Oscar’s chest. You muttered quick and quiet apologies when you noticed. But he didn’t mind one bit.

Theo ran up to the both of you, holding a remote controlled race car in his hands. “Oscar! Can you get me this?!”

Oscar chucked, kneeling down to be closer to eye level. He kept his hand in yours. “Buddy, I thought I said candy.” He was gentle with the kid, careful of his feelings. Theo frowned. “You did but… but Oscar this car is so cool.” He gave Oscar big puppy eyes, pouting his lips.

Oscar held back his laugh, taking care when sliding the toy from Theo’s grasp. “Do you want the car over the candy?” He asked. Theo nodded. Oscar smiled and stood. “Car it is then.” He tousled the boys hair, whose pout was now replaced by a big toothy smile.

“Thank you uncle Oscar!” Theo wrapped his arms around Oscar’s legs. An attempt at a hug. Oscar rubbed his back. “‘Course, kid.”

Theo ran off, joining his parents and sister at a vendor not too far from where you stood.

But your mind was suck on the title he’d given Oscar. And apparently Oscar was thinking about it too, because he bumped your shoulder and teased, “I’m an uncle now, hm? That wasn’t in the agreement.”

Head bowed, you chuckled nervously. “Sorry,”

Oscar smirked. “Don’t apologize. I think it’s cute.” His hand squeezed yours.

The both of you continued on, hand in hand, straying farther from the family. You stopped at a jewelry booth, a pendant catching your eye. On closer inspection, a small gasp left your lips. “Oh, Oscar, look how pretty.” You held the pendant in your empty hand. A small, flower-like shaped charm, a pretty pink color.

“It suits you.” He smiled, gaze jumping from the pendant to you and back. “Uhm, excuse me?” You called for the seller, an older woman. “How much for this?”

“Three hundred.”

“Three… hundred?”

The woman nodded. “Yes, it’s sterling silver and real diamond, just dyed that pretty pink color.”

You couldn’t justify spending that price, so you politely said, “ah maybe another time.”

Oscar frowned at the disappointment in your expression. Three hundred seemed like nothing to him, but he understood the burden it was to you.

His thoughts were interrupted by the feeling of little hands on his. When he looked down, he found Thalia trying to pry his hand from yours. You sighed, and gave him an ‘I told you so’ look. “I’m gonna go take Thalia, and discuss this crush with her.” You whispered close to Oscar’s ear before taking the child and walking off.

Once you were no longer in ear shot, he turned back to the woman. “Excuse me, do you take card?”

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That night at dinner, the conversation made a turn for the worse. Uncle Leni had one two many beers and couldn’t shut his mouth, so when he overheard your conversation, he just had to say something.

Oscar brought up your future, making a light hearted joke about you working in his garage next year. “Do you really think I have a chance? I mean, I did all that interning for McLaren last year and Andrea said he would ‘miss me greatly,’ but that doesn’t guarantee me a job anywhere in the paddock, you know?” You gushed. Oscar smiled at the way your eyes sparked when you spoke with such enthusiasm. He opened his mouth to speak, an encouragement and something about the future on the tip of his tongue.

The words were never spoken.

“I’d be careful with her, boy. She might be using you to get with your boss, and then fuck him for a job.” Leni interrupted. The vulgarity of the accusation had Oscar’s stomach twisting with something vile.

Your expression shaped into a mix of anger and disgust. Oscar watched you cautiously, offering a comforting hand to your knee. You stood abruptly just as his hand made contact. “I’d be careful with that alcohol, Uncle Leni. I think you’re one drink away from liver failure.” You shot back, leaving without letting him get another word in.

Oscar bowed his head, “excuse us,” he said to no one in particular, before turning to your parents and thanking them for the dinner. He cleaned up your plate and his and proceeded to follow you down the hall where you disappeared.

Muffled sobs came from the inside of your shared room. He knocked on the door hesitantly, calling your name in a soft question. “Go away,” your voice broke through your sobs.

But Oscar was persistent. He cared. You couldn’t get rid of him that easily. “I’m coming in.” He said, despite your very clear message.

His footsteps were cautious as he ventured into the room. You were lying on your stomach, sprawled out on the bed, face in a pillow. He was careful when he sat beside you, a hand coming up to rub in comforting circles on your back.

“It’s not fair, Osc.” The use of the nickname spiked his heart rate. He did his best to ignore it, putting his feelings aside for yours. “I know,” he hummed.

Your face emerged from the pillows, eyes already puffy and red. “No you don’t. Because you’re a man and they all love you.”

Oscar bit the inside of his cheek. “Yeah.” There was no point in arguing. He knew you were right. “Come here,” he encouraged, arms outstretched and waiting for your arrival. You drug yourself up, into his arms, lying against his chest.

The white shirt quickly became stained with your tears. Oscar didn’t care. He held you close while you cried. “I hate them.” You choked out. “They all think so little of me, have so little faith in me. Like I’m going to be nothing in life.” You clutched onto the white cloth of his t-shirt. “They talk about me like I’m a fucking prostitute.” Oscar ran a hand through your hair, and you snuggled your face closer to his chest.

Oscar tried to think of something comforting to say, but nothing felt quite right. He decided to pull you closer, instead. “I thought with you here they’d stop, but…” you shook your head. “I’m sorry I brought you all the way out here for nothing.”

“No,” Oscar jumped quickly to sooth your worries. “No you didn’t. I’m happy you asked. I’ve had fun here, with you.”

“You don’t mean that,” you tried to push yourself away from him, but Oscar held tighter. “Yes I do. I- on my life,” you struggled against his hold, desperately trying to rid yourself from the restraints that were his arms. “I promise you I meant it.” He urged, muttering the words close to your ear.

You relaxed at that, a palm coming to rest against his chest. Your tears still flowed freely. “And… and I’m so proud of you, too. And I believe in you more than you can even imagine.” He continued, dull nails scratching idly at your scalp.

You weren’t sure if his words were genuine. That didn’t matter. They were words you needed to hear, even if you had not known it until that very moment.

Oscar continued to keep you in his hold. He offered no more attempts to soothe you other than the hand of his that were tangled in the strands of your hair.

The exact timing you’d fallen asleep was unknown to him. He only realized you left consciousness when he stopped feeling your body shake with sobs and when the rhythmic tensing and relaxing of your hand ceased.

Your breathing had become even, too. Which he only took note of after he carefully laid you down in a more comfortable position.

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THURSDAY

You woke up, the clock informing you it was midday. You shot out of bed. The family was meant to go sledding today, and should have left an hour ago.

The floorboards under your feet creaked loudly as you raced to the living room. You froze upon entering. The only person there was Oscar, sat on the couch, only half watching the show on the television.

He turned at the sound of you approaching, and smiled. “Hey,” he greeted, soft and far too intimate for the current dynamic.

“Where is everyone?”

Oscar looked a bit guilty at the question. “Gone. I told them you weren’t feeling well, and we’d be staying here today.”

You nodded, padding over to round the couch. The cushion beside him became occupied by you. “Is that okay?” He asked, head tilted while he searched your eyes for some emotion. You nodded once more. “Didn’t feel up to it anyway.” You confessed. Then after a moment, “Thank you.”

A smile flickered across Oscar’s lips. “No need to thank me.”

You’d spent the day curled up on the couch together, strangely domestic for two people who had no business being so. Only when it was dark outside did Oscar raise any questions. “How long do they plan on being gone?” It was far past dinner time. 9pm to be exact. Oscar and yourself had already ordered and ate food.

Your head, being on his shoulder, tilts up so your eyes could meet. “They’re out at a restaurant, probably.” You shrugged.

Oscar’s eyes drifted to the window, the glittering snow having caught his eye. He had a sudden childish desire to go play in the fluffy white blankets.

So that’s what you did, before your family returned home.

You hid behind a tree with a tightly packed ball of snow held like a delicate jewel in the palm of your hand. The way your heart raced with anticipation sent a rush through you. Your face hurt, not only from the cold but also from the consistent strain of your muscles used to maintain the permanent smile on your face.

The sound of a snowball hitting the other side of the tree made you jump, but the reaction was quickly followed by a laugh. “Come on! I can’t get you if you’re hid behind a tree!” Oscar complained, but you could hear the smile in his voice.

“Then come get me!” You shouted back. The crunch of snow approaching closed caused you to smile harder. He had no idea what was coming for him.

But then it stopped suddenly. Definitely not close enough to be just on the other side. You peaked around the tree. Oscar stood still, his hands moulding a pile of snow. His brows creased in concentration. So much concentration, that he didn’t even hear the packed snow stress under your feet.

Once close enough, you let the snowball fly from the palm of your hand. It landed right on the side of his face. “Hey!” He laughed.

“That was totally on you. It should not take you that long to make one snow ball.” You teased, nearing closer.

Oscar frowned slightly. “It’s not a snowball,” he twisted his palm to face you. “It’s a heart.”

You stood close to him now. A small extension of your arm, and you’d be touching him. You smiled, soft and small. “It’s cute.” His cheeks were flushed with a light pink. Probably from the cold, you thought.

Careful fingers grabbed ahold of your wrist, twisting it so your palm faced the sky. Silently, Oscar transferred his creation from his palm to your. You chuckled. “Quite the romantic.” You teased once more.

“You more than anyone should know just how romantic I am.” Oscar leaned into the fun banter. You shook your head laughing. “Come on, I want some hot chocolate.” He followed you up the porch and into the house, pausing to wait for you to set his creation on the railing of the deck.

Plain white mugs were all that was in the cabinet, so it’s what you used to hold your hot cocoa. Oscar rummaged in the fridge while you blew into the cup, trying to cool it off. The steam continued to roll off it in heaps.

“Found it!” Oscar cheered, surfacing with a can of whipped cream. “Ah, good idea,” You hummed, holding your mug out to him. The spiral he put on top of your cup was nothing short of perfect.

You hopped up on the kitchen island, while Oscar stood beside you. He laughed at you after you’d taken a sip, his cheeks still colored pink despite the warmer environment inside the cabin.

“You’ve got a little—here, I’ll just get it.” He reached up, fingertips grazing your cheek. His thumb slipped across your upper lip, gathering the whipped cream.

His hand pulled back slightly, a smile on his face while he showed you the reason for his actions. You laughed.

Without thinking, you leaned forward, capturing his thumb between your lips. Oscar went red at the feeling of your tongue swiping against the pad of his thumb while your eyes remained on his. The situation far too sensual.

When your brain finally caught up to you, you jumped back. A hand of yours covered your mouth. “Oh my—I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. I mean, obviously I wasn’t but—“ your breath hitched, his hand on your thigh.

“Don’t apologize.” His voice came in hushed whispers. His eyes scattered all around your face, settling for a beat too long on your lips.

The both of you were locked in an intense staring contest, wanting the same thing but too scared to be the one to initiate it.

Oscar’s chest heaved, like the moment was sucking all the oxygen from his lungs. Hesitantly, he reached a hand up to your face. It found its home on your cheek. When you didn’t react, his other hand traveled to your other cheek. Still, you did not move, but he did notice the rate of your breaths had sped up.

He was the one to take the risk. His body found its way between your legs, and he pulled your face down to meet his.

The feeling of his lips against yours was familiar. The feeling that bloomed in your stomach was familiar. The heat between your legs, familiar.

He overrode every one of your senses. Tasted sweet, reminiscent of the cocoa and whipped cream. Smelled of cologne, fresh. Like amber wood, orange, and a hint of vanilla. His hands in your hair and settled at the base of your neck were driving you crazy. His hips rut against the counter, and he released a small groan into your mouth.

The sound of the lock on the door caught your ear. Two hands on his chest, you shoved him away. He stumbled back, but quickly understood when your family funneled through the door. Your face was on fire.

“Feeling better, I see?” Your sister smiled, then her eyes shifted to Oscar. “Nice lip gloss.”

₊ ‧ *‧₊˚ ⋅* ۶ৎ ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

FRIDAY

The end of the trip was nearing. It was another relax day in the house, though the kids were far from relaxed. Their giggles were a constant echo through the house along with the patter of their feet.

You’d fallen asleep last night with Oscar’s arms around you, his body moulded perfectly to yours. But when you woke up this morning, the boy was no longer offering the warmth of his body heat to you. In fact, he wasn’t in the bed at all, and the sheets beside you were cold to the touch. He hadn’t been there for awhile.

It was the second day in a row you’d fallen asleep in his arms, and he was no longer there when you woke the next morning.

So it seemed he had a knack for fleeing when things got too intimate.

You swung your legs over the bed. The wooden floors under your feet were as cold as the winter air outside. You quickly shielded yourself with a pair of slippers, and the first hoodie you saw.

Just like yesterday, you found him on the couch. He wasn’t watching one of his shows, but bluey. Your brows were furrowed as you approached. Your eyes answered the question in your mind; Theo and Thalia sat on the carpet in front the television. Theo recklessly drove his new remote controlled car while Thalia played with his hot wheels. A content smile colored Oscar’s expression.

You ruffled his hair, muttering out a, “good morning.” Oscar’s greeting died on the tip of his tongue when he turned his head to find you in his hoodie and tight biker shorts. His throat bobbed as he swallowed harshly. “Morning,” he managed.

The dynamic between you two was different now. A conversation was never held after the events of last night, but the air shifted. An unspoken agreement that you crossed the line as friends but neither of you would dare to venture into the dating territory. You were stuck in a sort of limbo between the two, which meant neither of you knew exactly how to act around the other.

“Oscar, you sound like bluey!” Theo laughed, Thalia joining him. Oscar’s face contorted in amusement, brows raised and a broader smile. “You’ve got a good ear.”

When his eyes searched the room to find you, they landed in the kitchen, the fridge wide open.

You pulled out an avocado, an egg, and a bagel from the pantry. You jumped when you turned around to place them on the island. Oscar was standing with his back to the counter, staring at your every move. “stalker,” you laughed, standing beside him. He remained serious. “We should talk.”

Your body froze. “Where’s the rest of the family?” You asked, gaze focused on the countertop. “Downstairs. Playing pool.” He muttered, a quick glance at the twins. “They’ll be fine for a couple minutes.”

Your eyes met his, an unusual pleading look about them. You nodded. “Yeah. We can step outside.” You motioned towards the back deck.

Out on the deck, you waited for him to speak first, a foot playing with the fluffy white snow to avoid his gaze.

“So… last night,” he began. You shut your eyes, preparing mentally for an awkward conversation. He shook his head, restarting his mini speech. “I’ve tried to move on from you for the last couple of months. It hasn’t really worked and I’ve always had an idea as to why, but last night really solidified it.” His hand on your cheek directed your gaze to his. An uncharacteristically bold move.

His eyes searched yours. For what, you were unsure of. But his gaze burrowed into yours, making you feel light in the head and queasy in the stomach. “I still love you.” He spoke with finality, as if the statement would reign true for the remainder of his life. That’s what it felt like to him.

You gasped out a breath, shaking your head. “It’s not good for us. It didn’t work out. It won’t work out.” Your face, still held in his hands; your eyes, cast anywhere but on him.

He stepped closer. You could feel his body heat now. “It could. You’ll be out of school two months after the season starts, and then you can get a job at McLaren with me-“

“And then I’ll become everything Leni thinks I am.” You interrupted, words quiet.

“No you won’t, because you deserve it. You know it. I know it. Who cares if your drunk, deadbeat uncle thinks otherwise?” You breathed out a laugh, glancing at him for only a moment. “But that’s besides the point. It’ll be just two months with me away and you studying. That’s nothing. We’ve managed longer.”

His pleas were followed by silence, a slight frown, furrowed brows. Wandering eyes landed on the heart-shaped snow ball he carefully crafted for you. “I don’t know,” you spoke, almost too quiet for Oscar to hear.

The small swipe of his thumb against your cheek had your defenses crumbling. “The apartment has felt so empty without you.” He recalled how he continued to look for you in every room, even two weeks after you broke up. A hopeless dream that you’d be standing in the kitchen or sleeping in his bed. Of course, you never were. “Please. Just give me a month.”

The nod came slowly, after a long moment of silence; Oscar’s ears strained for even a breath from you. “A month.” You agreed, a silent pray to whatever god would listen that this wasn’t a horrible mistake.

₊ ‧ *‧₊˚ ⋅* ۶ৎ ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

SATURDAY

Your last day at the cabin was spent back at the slopes, Oscar and yourself finally being able to break from the kiddie slopes and enjoy the more exhilarating ones. He’d tried to race you, and when you won, claimed that he slowed on purpose. His whole being exposed his lies, though.

The family ended the night on the couch, watching a Christmas movie, though Christmas was long past. Unfortunately for you and Oscar, you were demoted to sitting on the floor since you were the youngest of the adults.

Oscar didn’t mind. Not when you sat with your body pressed against his. Legs across his lap and head resting in the curve of his neck. He kept one of your hands encased in both of his. He wasn’t even sure what the movie was about. His eyes were hardly on the screen, opting to study you out of the corner of his eye. He felt incredibly lucky to be able to call you his again.

He only realized the movie ended when you looked up at him, laughing at how his eyes were already on you. “How was the movie?” You asked him, a soft smile. He absorbed every bit of it he could. “Amazing.”

Before you went to bed, Oscar pulled out a small box from his suitcase. Your back was turned, fluffing the pillow. He called your name softly. The curious look you gave him was just another thing he was sure to store in his brain for safe keeping.

“What’s that?” You hummed, interested. You stood in front of him now, the box within reach. He lifted the lid and presented it to you, earning a small gasp. “Oscar… that’s too much I can’t take that.” You shook your head, a hand pushing the box into his chest. “I bought it for you. No returns.” His nervous laugh filled the gap of your response.

A tentative hand of your reached for the pendant, the ridges of it gliding over your fingers. You bit the inside of your cheek, deciding there was no use in turning the gift away. “Will you put it on me?” He smiled. Nodded.

₊ ‧ *‧₊˚ ⋅* ۶ৎ ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

JUNE

You began working in Oscar’s garage right out of school. Andrea was sure to pick you up before any team even had the opportunity to approach you.

The relationship between you and Oscar was common knowledge within the garage. Your teammates—the other mechanics—treated you no different, other than the occasional teasing about it.

“We agree that if anything is wrong with the car, we blame her, right?” One of the other mechanics joked, gesturing to you. Laughter rang out over the roaring engines.

Of course, once your family got wind of the news, they had something to say. Leni in particular washed up the achievement to be special treatment since you were dating one of their drivers. It didn’t get to you this time, because Oscar reassured you that it was purely based on your skill. His opinion mattered more than your Uncle’s.

Outside of the world of racing, Oscar treated you like an Angel fallen from heaven. Acting like he existed with the sole purpose to service you. It annoyed you at first until you came to the realization that it was out of love. He communicated his love for you through of acts of service. From then on, you cherished it.

[idontactuallyremember]

Regarding the post about Thanos’s full back tattoo: imagine not having seen him in so long since he’s been recording songs and touring but he finally comes back home to you and you get a glimpse of the tatt after he takes off his jacket when he gets in. You’re SHOCKED but you’re like “does it go all the way down your back” and he’s all smirky and cocky and shit like “yeah, why princess, you wanna see” and you’re all “if you don’t strip rn…” and take your time admiring (and maybe licking and kissing all along that tattoo to show Thanos just how much you’ve missed him) 🥵🥵 someone write this out pleaaaase 😩

Hi, Anon. This is amazing and I wanted to write this so bad, I hope you like it <3

Notes/CW: Your famous boyfriend Thanos has been busy & you haven't seen him in a few months, SFW, flirting sexually but it's mostly playful fluff, Fem!reader, the games never happened you're just in love, You match his energy so good, (me finding out about his back tattoo is making me somewhat feral)

You wake up at 2am to your phone ringing; buzzing above your head.

You rub your eyes, the light from your phone giving you an instant headache. You try to decipher who could possibly be calling you this late.

"Thanos <3 is calling..." your phone screen burns into your eyes.

You swipe right, instantly.

"Hi, Princess," Thanos says, a certain excitement in his voice, "What'ya doing?"

"Was sleeping... what are you doing, baby?" you say, groggily.

"I just got done with a show but that doesn't matter. Look outside."

"What did you do now, huh?" You tease, still a little sleepy.

"Just look outside, brat." He teases back, then, sincerely: "Sorry I woke you."

"It's okay, you think whatever is outside will make up for it?" You scramble your robe on and look outside.

"I'd like to think so." He says, locking eyes with you immediately through the curtains.

"Su-bong, you fucking didn't! Come inside." You exclaim. Even in the dark, you knew it was him. You can't help the smile on your face. After all, it's probably been a few months since you saw him last.

"Wait before I do... I have a really serious question to ask you..." He says, his tone changing. Even from across the street and through the window his demeanor seemed to change.

"What's up, baby?" You ask.

"Can you push your tits up against the glass, pleasee-"

You hang up the phone and playfully give him the middle finger.

He flips you off back and makes his way to the front door. Even though he's your boyfriend, butterflies flittered in your stomach and chest anyway.

Meeting him downstairs, you open the door just as he's walking up.

"Fuck, c'mere, Princess." He says, slamming the door behind him as he grabs you, attacking your neck in wet kisses.

"I missed you so fucking much." He mutters breathlessly.

"I missed you, too. How did you even manage to get here?" You question.

"The show I played wasn't so far from here, I needed to see my girl." He pouts.

Peeling off his jacket he adds, "You always keep it 100 degrees in here, why?"

"So I can watch you undres-" you start, but get distracted. A tattoo- a new one- has you shocked for a moment. It starts at his middle finger, just below his nail bed, and trails under the sleeve of his shirt.

"Fuck..." you say, "when'd you do this?"

"You like it, princesa?" He smirks, complying when you grab his arm.

You notice more, too- on his neck.

"Fuck, yes. I love it." You say, trailing your nails down his neckline, "does it go down your back?"

"Mmm... why?" He smirks, "You just missed seeing me shirtless, huh?"

"C'mon, take it off." You say, starting to pull it over his head already.

His shirt thrown aside, you quickly admire his abs and focus on the tattoo.

Simply: 'Thanos' written in neat Korean letters.

"Little conceited, no?" You joke but your cheeks burn seeing the perfectly intricate lines across his muscular back.

He turns to face you- surely with a smartass comeback- but sees your flustered expression and he smiles, arrogantly.

"So on a scale of 1 to 'let's-go-break-our-bed', how would you rate the tattoo? Because right now you look like you're gonna jump on me." He says, sarcastically.

"Maybe a 9? It's a nice bed." You joke.

"Shut up." He says and swiftly grabs you, "Let's go upstairs."

Once you're in the bedroom, he throws you on the bed and lays next to you on his stomach.

The moment you start kissing up his back, he melts into the comfort of Home- the comfort of you.

You trace the lines with your fingers- with your tongue- up his back, down his arms, and up his neck into his hairline. You suck gently on the sexiest parts of his back and neck, leaving hickies.

You don't know how long you admire him but, eventually, Thanos snores softly into a pillow. You crawl next to him and pull a blanket over you both and before you know it, you're fast asleep.

[herofics]

No Longer Mine, part 3

A/N: I finally got around to writing more of this. The first part can be found here and the second part here. This was written in a very tired state, so it might be a bit all over the place, but I think it's okay

Word count: 2.3k

Contrary to what he’d hoped, Gojo couldn’t fall asleep after he felt the migraine coming in while fighting with Ava. He loved her and his conscience wouldn’t let him sleep after being such an asshole. He had heard the front door slam shut quite loudly, after Ava had stormed off. She must have left the house, and Gojo was going to go after her, he had to. He couldn’t just leave things like this.

You had gotten back home with Nanami a while ago, but he had gotten called away on a short mission almost immediately after your arrival. Maybe that was for the best, you could use some alone time to sort out your thoughts about what had happened earlier. You weren’t really sure what you were feeling. You were angry at Gojo for his jealousy or whatever the hell he had displayed when he saw you and Nanami holding hands. He didn’t have any right to be possessive or jealous over you anymore. At least you were finally able to put a face to the name when it came to Ava. You couldn’t really put your finger on it, but you got an odd vibe from her. She seemed very shocked when she saw you and especially when she heard your name, and you took note of the brief death glare she gave Gojo. Could it be that Gojo hadn’t told her about your return? It had been six months, surely he would have told his fiancée, right?

The hours passed, but you just couldn’t get it out of your mind. Why wouldn’t Gojo have told her? You were just making yourself a cup of tea when the doorbell rang. You couldn’t think of who it could be, so you checked the peephole.

“Ava?” you muttered quietly to yourself. What could she possibly be doing behind your door?

You took a deep breath to calm yourself and opened the door.

“Hello” you greeted her politely.

“Hi. We met briefly earlier today. I’m Ava, Satoru’s fiancée”

“I’m sorry I didn’t really introduce myself earlier, I’m (Full Name). It’s nice to meet you” you bowed a little bit.

“Would you mind if I came in? There’s something I’d like to talk about with you” she asked.

“Sure, come in”

There was something odd about her, but you decided to be polite and invite her inside. She didn’t seem threatening or jealous or anything of the sort, she just seemed very intent on talking with you about something. The two of you sat down by the kitchen table and you offered to make her tea, which she accepted.

“So, what did you want to talk with me about?” you asked.

“I’m going to get straight to the point. Stay away from my Satoru” she said very matter of factly.

“Excuse me?” you asked, blinking a few times in disbelief at her forwardness as you set the tea cups on the table and turned to grab the sugar from the cupboard.

“Seeing you is obviously painful for him. You probably don’t know this, but when you disappeared, it almost killed him. When I met him, he was in a bad way. He was a shell compared to what he was with you. I’m sure you don’t want to hurt him, so I would like you to stay away from him” she announced.

You took a sip of your tea, noticing it tasted a bit off, but not paying much mind to it. You were much more interested in this woman’s demand.

“And if I don’t?” you asked, not really in a challenging tone, but more out of sheer curiosity.

“I’ll make sure that this time, you stay gone” she hissed.

“What does that mean? Do you have something to do with what happened to me?” you asked, but as you looked at her, you noticed your vision was going a bit blurry.

You could feel yourself losing consciousness. She must have put something in your tea when you had your back turned. You wouldn’t just pass out for no reason. You stood up, attempting to get away from her, but you fell to the floor, hitting your head on the corner of the table on the way down. As the blood started to slowly flow down your face, your vision went black and you lost consciousness.

Gojo couldn’t find Ava anywhere. He had already checked the whole estate and all the places she liked to go nearby, but she was nowhere to be found.

“Where is she?” he muttered to himself as he marched towards Nanami’s place.

Gojo didn’t even know why he was going there. Ava could be confrontational sometimes, but surely she wouldn’t have gone to see you after what happened earlier?

“Who am I kidding, she would totally do that” Gojo groaned.

He couldn’t be sure you were at Nanami’s of course, but from what he’d seen earlier, he thought there was a high likelihood that he would find you there. Ava would probably have figured out the same thing. He hadn’t really thought about it, but where had you been staying after you got out of the hospital? Had you been with Nanami the whole time? Why was he even thinking about that, you had made it very clear that what you did was none of his business anymore.

When he got to Nanami’s house, he could see that the curtains were drawn, but there was clearly someone inside, he could see a shadow moving on the other side of the curtains. Since it seemed to be just one person, he figured it was probably you and Ava wasn’t there. Then he noticed it, he couldn’t believe he hadn’t realized right away, but there was a very faint trace of a familiar cursed energy lingering around. Ava’s cursed energy. It was well suppressed, but Gojo had sharp senses, so he noticed it anyway.

“I’m going to make sure you won’t come back this time. I’m supposed to be his spouse, not you. You don’t deserve him, you don’t deserve him, you don’t deserve him…” Ava kept repeating.

She had long admired Gojo from afar, and wanted to be with him, but you were always in the way. The only way to make him notice her, was to get rid of you, so that’s what she did. She came from a rich family, and finding a curse user to kill you wasn’t a problem either. As it turned out, that curse user didn’t get rid of you like she had instructed him to, but he apparently kept you. Who knows for what reason, but whatever it was, it allowed you to eventually escape with your life.

When Ava eventually approached Gojo after she determined he had hit rock bottom, he didn’t even know who she was. Sure, she had gone to the Kyoto school while Gojo attended the Tokyo one, but they had crossed paths before. Of course he had always been with you even back then. It was like he didn’t even see anyone but you, certainly not her. Over the years, her obsession grew, and eventually she took action to get rid of you, and to get close to Gojo. It all went just like she had planned, until today. Or apparently, until six months ago, since that was when you had actually managed to escape, and her dear fiancé just hadn’t told her about your return.

Gojo hesitated for a moment, before ringing the doorbell. The shuffling and sounds of movement inside the house immediately seized.

“Hey (Name), I know you don’t want to see me right now, but I just want to talk to Ava. I know she’s there” Gojo announced.

Ava had frozen the moment the doorbell rang. She could sense Gojo’s cursed energy before he even spoke. She knew what she was going to do, she would make it look like you had attacked her in a jealous rage, and that she had had to kill you. Surely that would work. You were the jealous ex of his fiancé, who had gone into a fit of rage and attacked her. The atrocities you had no doubt suffered during your missing time could also be used to explain a sudden violent outburst. No one would question it, not since it came from her. She would just have to make it convincing, to hurt herself enough to warrant such a drastic measure as to end your life. Could she manage it? In the few seconds it took for Gojo to realize that something was wrong? No, she had to talk him into going away.

Ava took a deep breath and walked to the front door, opening it a bit, plastering her signature smile on her face. He had no reason to go inside, she could just talk him into leaving. The mixture she had used should keep you unconscious for at least an hour, so she was in no hurry.

“Hi darling. You wanted to talk to me?” she asked.

“I take it (Last Name) doesn’t want to see me?”

“No, they don’t, I’m sorry. We were just talking, so could this wait? I’ll be home in a bit and we can talk about it then” she suggested.

“Yeah, sure…” Gojo said, turning to leave.

As he took a few steps away from the house, something stopped him. Something was telling him he couldn’t leave, that if he did, something terrible would happen. He trusted his instincts, they had saved him so many times, and this feeling wasn’t something he could just ignore.

“I need to talk to (Name)” he said without thinking.

Gojo could have sworn that the mention of your name caused something to flash in Ava’s eyes, but it was gone before he could be sure.

“Like I said, they don’t want to talk to you, and you can’t just barge into someone else’s home without permission” Ava tried to argue.

“It’s not your home either” Gojo said, as he took a step towards the door.

Ava slammed the door shut and dashed in your direction. She could still make this work, she just had to be fast enough. She raised her hand, readying herself to release her cursed technique upon you.

Gojo hesitated for just a moment. Maybe you really didn’t want to talk to him, but this was going way beyond suspicious. His doubts were confirmed as he felt Ava’s cursed energy grow stronger, as if she was using her technique. He didn’t care about the door, he could just pay Nanami for a new one, so he wrenched it open in one swift motion and ran towards the source of the cursed energy. He had, somewhere in the back of his mind, registered that your cursed energy hadn’t changed for a second during this whole time. Why was Ava using her technique? She must have perceived you as a threat for some reason, but for the life of him Gojo couldn’t figure out why that would be.

As he turned the corner to the kitchen, he couldn’t believe his eyes. You were laying on the floor, your forehead bleeding, and Ava’s blades were just centimeters from piercing your back. The shock caused by the situation in front of him made him slow down for just a fraction of a second, but that was enough for Ava’s blades to reach you. As Gojo knocked her out, her technique disappeared, but the damage was already done. He could see your shirt getting stained with blood. Not again, he was not going to lose you again.

He threw the unconscious Ava over his shoulder and grabbed you to carry you with his other arm. He took you to Shoko and threw Ava into the detention room that was used to house curse users waiting for execution, before returning to the infirmary. Gojo didn’t want to look at his fiancée. He had just left her there, he wasn’t sure if he even cared what happened to her. He just sat outside the room where Shoko was treating you, hanging his head.

"”The strongest” my ass” he muttered bitterly.

How did he not notice what Ava really was? Had she had something to do with your disappearance in the first place? He shouldn’t have given up on you, but now he was losing you all over again. Were you going to die? He wasn’t sure he could handle it a second time. Finding out his fiancée was a complete lie wasn’t easy either, but all he could think about was you. He didn’t want to give Ava another thought, it was all too painful. He had lost another person he loved, and he never really knew her at all.

Gojo sat there in silence for god knows how long, before he heard someone marching down the corridor towards him.

“Where are they?” a familiar voice asked, clearly holding back a lot of anger.

Gojo just motioned towards the door next to him. He couldn’t look at Nanami. He didn’t want to see the expression on his face.

Nanami had just gotten the call from Shoko, as he had gotten back from his mission. You were in the infirmary, and she had just finished her treatment. She couldn’t really give him many details about what had happened to you, since she only knew the broad strokes of the situation, but he knew enough. It wasn’t his call, but he didn’t want Gojo anywhere near you, he only seemed to bring misery into your life nowadays. Nanami knew you’d loved him in the past, and that in some way, you probably still did, but he wasn’t good for you. Everyone around him got hurt.

“Stay away from them, Gojo. They deserve to be happy, even if that isn’t with you anymore” Nanami sighed tiredly, before closing the door behind him as he entered the infirmary.

Gojo knew Nanami was right, all he seemed to bring to you was misery. If you hadn’t been involved with him, you wouldn’t have lost four years of your life. If it wasn’t for your relationship with him, you wouldn’t be hurt right now. If you’d only never met him, your life would have been different.

[brenwritesss]

I LOVE UR WORKKKK 💕💕 would u be down to write angst for emily or kate? im a suckerrrr for angsty fics 🙏🙏 tysm!

Vegas Baby

Kate Martin x reader

Summary: Kate gets drafted to the Aces, making you determine if moving to Las Vegas or staying in Iowa is the right decision.

a/n: not edited

“With the 18th pick in the 2024 WNBA draft, the Las Vegas Aces select Kate Martin, University of Iowa.” 

Your eyes widened at the screen before you as your girlfriend stood up from her seat in the crowd. Your sister latched a hand onto your shoulder while her jaw dropped at those simple yet groundbreaking words. You didn’t have time to react, slapping your own hand over your mouth as you watched Kate walk up to the stage to accept her jersey. “Holy shit.” 

Tears formed along your waterline and you broke out into a smile that was almost bigger than Kate’s. Your sister started shaking your shoulder. “Your girlfriend’s going to fucking Vegas!”

You remember moments before she got drafted; nonstop texts in your phone while you both supported Caitlin as she got drafted #1 overall. Kate was nervous to say the least, telling you how all she wanted was an opportunity. The chance to get her name called and to walk across that stage. It was all she had been talking about for months. There had always been a part of you that knew she was going to get drafted. You had spent the last three years at Iowa watching her, supporting her, cheering her on and all you wanted was for her to get that opportunity that she had been wishing for all season.

My love 💗

Babe, they asked me to switch seats

I’m closer to the aisle now

Idk what this means but I’m nervous

What should I do?

As a joke, you had replied “baby, you’re about to get drafted.” Then she did actually get drafted. Maybe you had a way of telling the future? Is this the universe’s way of telling you that you should ditch getting your major in business and start a career in fortune telling instead? 

You continued watching the rest of the WNBA draft with your hands shaking in your lap. After your initial freak out over Kate getting drafted had occurred, you didn’t waste any time in texting in texting your girlfriend to congratulate her.

“Congratulations baby I’m so so so proud of you.”

Kate didn’t respond instantly as you had expected, but a couple of hours later, you received a phone call from her. “Oh my God, babe.”

You immediately laughed into the phone, “how is my new Ace doing?”

“I don’t even know. There’s so many thoughts going through my head right now. Did you see me?”

You could practically feel her nerves through the phone. “Of course I did. I saw every second. I’m so proud of you, Kate, this is amazing.”

“Thank you,” she said, taking a pause. “I feel really good about this, you know? Everything is falling into place and working out. Knowing that I have your support, babe, it means everything to me.”

“You know I’ll always support you no matter what. You’re going to be doing great things in Vegas, I just know it.” You couldn’t help but tear up again, forcing the tears not to fall so that Kate wouldn’t hear it.

“It’s going to be hard leaving Iowa but this is an incredible opportunity. I’ll be playing with the fucking Aces. Are you joking? The fucking Las Vegas Aces.”

“They’re getting a good one,” you smiled. “When are you coming back from New York?”

There was a few moments of silence coming from her end. Silence that stirred the smallest bit of anxiety within you. Silence that made you feel the smallest bit of uncertainty. “Within the next couple of days for sure. I have to pack up my place and get everything back home in order before I go to Vegas.”

“Right, yeah,” you agreed. There was a part of you that felt almost hurt that she didn’t mention seeing you or coming back to you. Was it stupid to feel that way?

“Hey, I gotta go,” she spoke softly into the phone. “But I’ll call you later if you’re awake. I’ll see you soon, baby. I love you.”

“I love you too.” Seconds after, Kate hung up the phone, leaving you sitting in your shared apartment that she would soon leave behind. You just hope you wouldn’t be part of that. She couldn’t leave you behind right?

Kate was back in Iowa, curled up with you on the couch two days after the draft. When you had picked her up from the airport, you had barely left her side. Not because of your previous fears from draft night, but because even though she was only gone for a few days, you missed her terribly. You lifted your head up from her chest, looking up at her. “When do you leave for Vegas?” you ask her.

Kate looks down at you, softly kissing your temple. “In a couple weeks for training camp. Why?”

You shrug your shoulders. “Just wondering.” You debated on continuing the conversation, having so many questions in your head about the future of your relationship. Deciding against keeping quiet, you continue, “we should talk about some stuff, Kate.”

Kate shifted from beneath you and leaned up more against the couch. Her eyebrows furrowed as she looked at you, not pulling her hand away from your waist. “What’s wrong?”

“We should talk about you moving to Vegas.” You take in her expression, watching as her eyes darted from your eyes to around your face. Before the draft, you and Kate had always speculated what your lives together would look like after college. You both had discussed that if she chose to continue her basketball career professionally, you would find a way to go with her, leaving your life behind in Iowa. The more you thought about it, the harder it would be to leave your friends, family, and your school.

Kate nodded, “yeah, we should probably talk about where we’re staying. I mean, we’re going to have to pack and everything but it shouldn’t be too hard.”

That’s when it hit you. Kate was planning on you moving to Las Vegas with her. And in a way, it felt like you were stuck, torn between wanting to be with Kate but not wanting to leave your life and everything you had worked for, behind. 

“Kate, baby there’s a lot more that goes into this than just me and you moving across the country. I just started a new job and all of my friends and family are here.”

“Are you saying you don’t want to come with me?” Kate asked you, looking almost insulted at the idea.

You shook your head. “No, no that’s not what I’m saying. I’m saying that we need to talk more about it and figure it out from there. I can’t just tell you I’m moving with you when there’s so many things that tie me down here.”

Kate’s grip on your waist loosened slightly. Slightly enough to have you notice it. “It’s either you want to move or you don’t. It shouldn’t be this difficult.”

You were taken back by her response, acknowledging the tension in her words. “Having to reroute my entire life in a matter of a couple weeks would never be fucking easy.”

“What about all the times we would be in my bed and we would talk about being together?” Kate finally let her hands fall from your waist. “You said you’d follow me wherever if I got drafted.”

“Kate, that was us dreaming. In a perfect world, yes, I would follow you wherever you wanted to go even if it were the pits of hell. But this is not a perfect world, and we have to look at the reality of this situation.”

“So then why say all of that shit?” Kate’s voice raised slightly which caused you to move back on the couch, putting space between you two. “So all of that shit is meaningless then?”

You widen your eyes. “No of course not because I meant it when I said that I wanted to be with you for the rest of my life. You’re not listening to me.”

Kate rolled her eyes, standing up from the couch for the first time since the conversation started. “You always fucking do this, Y/n.”

“Do what?”

“Say that I’m not listening to you when it’s the only thing I’m doing. Do you think that this whole situation isn’t hard on me too? Two weeks ago, I thought my basketball career was over and now I have the chance to play in a league with some of the most talented athletes in the world. Do you not see how big of a deal this is and how I want your support in this?” Kate was walking back in forth in front of you, her tone of voice catching you off guard.

You stood up, trying to get her to look at you. “That’s fucking ridiculous that you would even suggest that I don’t support you, Kate. I have been your biggest fan since I met you and you want to tell me that I’m not supporting you? Why should I have to prove my support by moving across the country and beginning a life that I am not familiar with. You’re making me sound selfish.”

“It wouldn’t be unfamiliar because you’ll have me.”

“And what would happen when I don’t have you anymore?”

Kate froze in her spot, turning to face you. “What?”

“What would happen when you decide that I’m tying you down or becoming too much. Leaving my whole life here, it’s just not worth the risk.”

“That’s fucking bullshit and you know it,” Kate yelled, looking down at you. “Do you think that if I was going to break up with you, I’d want you to move to Vegas with me? And do you really think I could be capable of doing something like that when you’re the only person I can see going through this next chapter with?”

You throw your hands up in the air, trying desperately to reason with her. “Do you care at all what happens to me? Do you care that I’m giving up so much for you?”

Kate was practically pulling at her hair at this point. She rolled up the sleeves of her hoodie before she brushed her hands over her face. “You’re acting like I’m making you move to a different country. Obviously, you have the fucking choice to stay here if you want. I’m not going to force to move to Vegas with me,” she paused. “I assumed you were going to, considering that’s what you have been telling me for months. If you knew you were going to stay here, why would you give me that false hope?”

“Because I thought that up until now, I wouldn’t question leaving with you. But now that it’s actually happening, I have to think about the reality and it scares me.”

Kate tightens her mouth into a small line, making you know that what you just said went straight to her heart. “So it’s not enough knowing that I would take care of you? I wouldn’t just drop you off in Vegas and leave you there you know. I don’t see a future where I’m not taking care of you and putting you first.”

You cross your arms. Everything in you wanted to believe Kate, but you’ve heard the horror stories of what would happen to girls who dated professional athletes. Maybe you shouldn’t have let this go on for this long. Maybe you should have listened to your head instead of your heart. “Do you really believe that?”

“Believe what?”

“That you’d put me first?”

Kate’s jaw almost dropped at your question and in that moment, you wanted to take it back. “This is bullshit.”

Without saying anything else, she slips on her shoes, grabbing her keys, and heads for the door.

You wanted to reach out to her. To tell her to stay and talk it out, but deep down you knew that there was only a matter of time before the magnetic pull between you two came crashing down.

[tikosblogg]

Hii, I saw that you wanted to get requests and I just got one. Reader is going through tough times and having the problem that everytime she comes home, she just goes to bed and falls asleep for hours and wakes up in the evening. Noah notices this and that she's more closed off, more tired and wants to help her. I like your works, they're well written. Hope you're doing well❤️❤️

Sorry this one took a bit. This one means a lot to me, because sadly I can relate. I’ve been going through this for the last few months, so in a weird way if felt nice to write.

ANYTHING>HUMAN

*Pic from tumblr*

Warning: talks of depression, anxiety.

A/N: plz enjoy, this pic is so cute, I had to use it.

The slam of the front door echoed through the apartment, a familiar, hollow sound that seemed to mock the silence that had become my constant companion. I leaned against the cool wood, the weight of the day already crushing me. It wasn’t a particularly bad day, not really. Just…empty. Like a hollow shell of a day. I kicked off my shoes, letting them fall where they may, and trudged towards the bedroom. My limbs felt heavy, each step an effort. The pull of the mattress was magnetic; a silent promise of oblivion.

I didn’t bother with changing, just collapsed onto the bed, face down, still in my work clothes. The soft material of the sheets offered a small comfort, just enough to let go. And then, as always, sleep claimed me, pulling me into a void where problems ceased to exist, at least for a little while.

The next thing I knew, the room was bathed in the soft, orange glow of the setting sun. My head felt groggy, my mouth dry. I blinked up at the ceiling, disoriented, trying to piece together the last few hours. Or, more accurately, the absence of them. It was always the same. Come home, sleep, wake up, and the day was practically gone.

I dragged myself out of bed, the weight in my heart a constant, dull ache. The smell of cooking food wafted from the kitchen, the aroma of something savory, something that spoke of care. Noah. I’d forgotten he was even here. Again.

He was standing at the stove, his back to me, a canvas of tattoos stretching across his broad shoulders. Even in the dim light, I could see the intricate patterns, the way they moved and shifted with his every motion. He was a force of nature, all 6’3” of inked skin and quiet strength. He turned, brown eyes meeting mine, a small smile playing on his lips.

“Hey baby” he said softly, his voice a low rumble that always managed to settle some of the chaos in my head. “You were out for hours.”

I shrugged, running a hand through my tangled hair. “I was tired.” My voice sounded flat, even to my own ears.

“Tired?” He placed the spatula down, leaning against the counter, his arms crossed over his chest. The casual pose couldn’t hide the concern etched on his face. “Or…something else?”

He knew me too well, always had. We’d been friends since forever, a bond forged in the fires of high school awkwardness and late-night talks. He’d seen me at my best and my worst, the exuberant and the insecure. We finally became official, right after high school. But lately, the quiet and the defeated had been winning.

I looked away, focusing on the worn wooden floorboards. “I don’t know,” I mumbled, the words catching in my throat. It was getting harder and harder to articulate what was going on inside. It felt like a storm brewing, a constant churn of anxiety and exhaustion that was slowly suffocating me.

He took a step closer, his presence filling the space, his warmth a comforting balm against the coldness that had settled around me. “Y/N,” he said, his voice gentle, “you’ve been doing this every day for weeks. You come home, you sleep, you wake up, and the day’s gone. You barely eat, you barely talk. You’re like… fading.”

That word hit hard. Fading. It was exactly how I felt. Like the edges of me were blurring, the vibrant colors of my life slowly turning to muted shades of gray.

“I’m just stressed,” I offered weakly, picking at a nonexistent thread on my t-shirt. “Work’s been hard.”

He sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. “I know you better than that, Y/N. Work has always been hard, but you’ve always been… well, you. You’ve always bounced back. But this…this is different. You’re not yourself.”

The truth in his words was like a punch to the gut. He was right. I wasn’t myself. I felt like a stranger in my own skin.

“I just…” I trailed off, unable to articulate the jumbled mess of emotions swirling within me. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, threatening to spill. I just wanted to disappear, to curl up and let the world pass me by.

He closed the distance between us, his big hands coming to rest on my hips. I could feel the strength beneath his touch, a grounding anchor in the sea of my turmoil. “look at me,” he said softly, tilting my chin up so I was forced to meet his gaze. "It’s okay to not be okay, you know? It’s okay to need help.”

His words, spoken with such quiet conviction, resonated with a power I hadn’t expected. Maybe it was okay, maybe I didn’t have to carry this burden alone.

“I don’t know what’s wrong,” I whispered, the tears finally escaping and tracing hot paths down my cheeks. "I just feel so… lost.”

He pulled me into a hug, his arms wrapping around me, holding me close. It was a familiar comfort, a safety net I hadn't realized I needed so desperately…home. “I’m here baby,” he murmured into my hair, his voice a soothing balm. “I’m not going anywhere.”

We stood there for a long moment, just holding each other, the silence broken only by the soft sounds of my sobs. Slowly, the tension in my body began to ease, replaced by a fragile sense of calm.

“Come on,” he said, pulling back slightly. He wiped the tears from my face with the pad of his thumb. “Let’s eat. And then… maybe we can talk? Or we can just sit in silence. Whatever you need.”

He didn’t push, didn’t demand, just offered a hand, a lifeline. And for the first time in a long time, I found myself taking it.

We ate dinner in a comfortable silence, the taste of the food warming me from the inside out. It wasn't a miracle cure, by any means. The darkness still lingered, but it felt a little less overwhelming, a little less suffocating. After we finished, we moved to the living room, settling on the couch.

He spread out in the corner of the plush couch, stretching his arms towards me, beckoning me to lay on his chest. Without a word I did so. He wrapped one arm around my waist, while his other hand ran through my hair. “So,” he began, his voice calm and steady, “is there anything you want to talk about?”

I looked down, picking at the hem of his t-shirt. “It’s just… everything feels hard. Like I’m wading through mud. I try to keep up, but I’m always falling behind. Work, life… it all just feels like too much.”

He listened patiently, his attention never wavering, his presence a silent reassurance. As I spoke, the words tumbled out, a tangled mess of anxieties and insecurities. I told him about the constant feeling of inadequacy, the relentless pressure I felt to measure up, the way the simple act of getting out of bed felt like a monumental task.

He didn't interrupt, didn't offer platitudes or quick fixes. He simply listened, letting me vent, letting me express the emotions that I had been carrying for so long. When I was done, he reached out and took my hand, his fingers lacing with mine.

“Thank you, for telling me baby,” he said softly. “It takes courage to be vulnerable like that, to let someone see the parts of you that feel broken.”

He turned my hand over, tracing the lines on my palm with his thumb. “You’re not broken, Y/N,” he said, meeting my eyes. “You’re just… hurting. And that’s okay. It doesn’t make you less of a person. And you don't have to carry it alone. We'll figure this out. Together.”

His words were like a balm to my wounded soul. I wasn’t as alone as I thought. Maybe things could get better. I looked up at him, his familiar face a beacon of hope in the darkness. He leaned down placing a soft kiss to my forehead, nose, and then a long lingering kiss to my lips And for the first time in what felt like forever, a tiny seed of hope began to sprout in my heart. It wasn't a cure, not even really a solution. But it felt like a start. And right now, a start was everything.

[911onem]

Buck let out a deep sigh, eyes fluttering closed as he leaned his forehead heavily into his fist. The weight caused his elbow to dig deeper into the wooden table, legs creaking loudly across the room drawing a pause from Tommy at the stove.

“Sweetheart, you alright?”

He shrugged, pulling his pen up to his lips to chew lightly at the lid as his eyelids pried themselves back open and he stared at the pile of papers in front of him.

“Yeah, for now.”

There was a soft chuckle, footsteps getting closer before a set of heavy palms were on his shoulders, thumbs digging into his skin in a way that had him moaning and leaning back against the chair.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

His head hit the back of the seat as he locked eyes with his boyfriend, wiggling until he was a little more comfortable and Tommy was massaging in just the right spot.

“My rent is going up again.”

Something akin to understanding flooded his eyes, staring at Buck with a gentle smile before he dropped a kiss against his forehead. Buck was trying not to stress, but this seemed to be an ongoing pattern with his building and this next increase is beginning to push him into an uncomfortable position. His bills were already tight, but he was now on the line of restricting how much was going into his savings and stress was starting to grow heavier on his shoulders.

“I see, I don’t miss those days, especially now.”

“I just,” he sighed again, struggling to find the words, “worry about how much longer I am going to be able to afford to live here. The other options if I had to downgrade are across the city and it's so much farther from work.” His tone was borderline whiny, a pout gracing his lips as he turned to press a gentle kiss against Tommy’s hand. “And from you.”

“How tight are you on money?”

“I mean, I have my savings. I don’t have anyone else I have to provide for, my other bills are still borderline reasonable, but the next increase could really put me in a rough spot. I knew when I moved to LA it would be expensive, but these last few years have been getting ridiculously expensive and at a pace I didn't see coming until it was too late.”

The hands pulled away after a few minutes, finding his back and pushing him upward until he was on his feet, watching Tommy take his chair. Before he could open his mouth the hands were on his waist, dragging him to sit on his boyfriend's thigh as arms circled around him to sift through his papers. He took the moment to lean back into his chest, tucking his forehead into the man's neck as he eyed the red letters printed boldly under the thick fingers.

“Baby.. this doesn’t look like you’re one increase away, this looks like you’re one month away. I don’t understand why your rent is so high.”

The body around him tensed, forearms brushing against him as they reached farther for the paperwork that had fallen a little further away from his grasp.

“Jesus, this is robbery, what was your rent when you moved in?”

Buck swallowed heavily, looking around his space and forcing himself to take a deep breath as Tommy sat up a little taller.

“I just couldn’t bring myself to let go of this place. It was my first real home here, I watched Christopher grow up here, and Jee. I’m proud of this apartment and I really don’t want to lose it.”

A soft kiss fell against his curls as Tommy gently set down the paperwork, arms circling his waist and dragging their bodies together until Buck could feel his breath against the side of his face. It was warm, intimate, and he couldn’t help but mourn as he realized that he wouldn’t be in this loft for much longer.

“With how our shifts go, Tommy, if I lived farther away I wouldn’t be able to see you as often as the little time we have now. I can’t race over for dinner, or sleep over impulsively with the chance to run home the next morning before work. Its too far- And I’ll be so far from Maddie, the traffic in that direction is a nightmare and it’s probably gonna add another forty minutes there and back to my day.”

“Well, when is your next pay increase? I know the department has been working on a new salary for a few stations across LA. Weren’t you guys included in that?”

“Yeah, but that's not until the end of the year. This increase starts at the beginning of next month.”

“Alright, how about you tell me how much you need and I’ll help you.”

Buck forced out a laugh, grabbing Tommy’s wrist and letting his thumb sweep against his skin as he shook his head.

“It’s not that simple. It’d be at least a couple grand just to keep me afloat. Like I said, I have savings, but-”

“How about we start with 10?”

It didn’t hit him until another minute, body shooting up drawing Tommy’s head to pull backwards just in the nick of time. They barely avoided collision, but he could only focus on the serious look on Tommy’s face as he watched him. “Jesus, babe-”

“Ten what? Ten thousand? Are you crazy?”

Tommy’s confused smirk was followed by a tilt of his head, eyes searching his for a second before he asked, “What? Is that not enough?”

Read the rest here 👇🏽

[winchesterwild78]

Daddy’s Girl pt 4

Master List

Characters: Dean Winchester x Reader (wife), Dean and Reader’s daughter, other characters from Supernatural

Warnings: childbirth, jealousy, attempted assault, physical assault, anger, language

A/N: Another collab story with @cheekygirl2309. This chapter will feature a few time jumps. We wanted to capture Dean as a dad at different stages of his daughter’s life. 

This is a work of fiction and does not follow the Supernatural storyline. I do not own the rights to the characters used.

All work is my own and @cheekygirl2309, don’t take it or use it as your own. Reblogs and likes are appreciated. 

Minors DNI 18+

*Time Jump 10 months*

I stood in the kitchen trying to open a jar of peanut butter and I couldn’t get it open. Tears started falling and I grew frustrated. 

Dean walked in the kitchen and chuckled, grabbing the jar and holding me. “Shh, it’s okay baby. I’ll open it for you. Don’t cry.” 

I sniffled, “I’m sorry. I can’t help it. I couldn’t get the jar open and I, we really want some peanut butter.” 

Dean smiled and placed his hand on my growing belly. I was 9 months pregnant with our son. The baby Jack told us was coming. Even though we knew the baby was coming, it was a surprise when we saw the positive pregnancy test. 

Jack had said within a year, but we were still shocked. Delilah was excited and helped us get the nursery ready. 

“Daddy, can I take Bubbles in the yard to play?” Delilah asked, walking in the kitchen. “Yeah, pumpkin. Just stay in the fence. I’ll be out there in a minute.” She nodded and grabbed the leash. 

Since Sammy and Dean put the fence in Delilah has been taking Bubbles outside more and working on training her. We found it endearing since she was still so little herself. 

Dean handed me the jar of peanut butter, kissed my lips and touched my stomach. “I love you two very much. Go rest and I’ll be back inside soon.” 

I nodded and walked to the Dean cave and put my feet up. 

Being in the last month of pregnancy and days away from my due date I was tired, my feet were swollen and I was achy. I was over being pregnant.

I had just closed my eyes when I felt a gush of warm liquid. “Oh shit!” I knew my water had broken. I reached for my phone to call Dean.

“Hey baby. Are you okay? Do you need anything?” 

“Um, well I need you to take me to the hospital. My water just broke.” I chuckled. 

“Oh shit! Okay. Hey, Delilah, grab Bubbles. Your baby brother is coming. I’ll call Sammy.” He hung up and called Sam. 

Sam and Eileen were at the bunker within ten minutes. “You’re going to do great, Y/N. Let us know when he’s here.” 

I hugged them, and hugged Delilah. “I love you baby girl. Daddy and I will let Uncle Sammy know when your baby brother is here.”

“Okay mommy. I love you.” 

Dean grabbed my bag and helped me in the car. We headed toward the hospital. My contractions were coming faster and I was nervous. Dean had one hand on the wheel and the other holding mine. 

“You’ve got this baby. Just breathe. We’re almost there.” 

Two hours later we were holding our little boy. He looked just like Dean. Big beautiful green eyes, sandy brown hair and a smile that could melt even the coldest heart. 

Dean had called Sam and they were bringing Delilah to the hospital to see us. She came in quietly and I was holding the baby. He had fallen asleep in my arms.

Dean picked her up and kissed her head. “Hey pumpkin. Are you ready to meet your little brother?” She nodded, but looked nervous.

She looked down at the baby in my arms, “He’s so small.” I nodded, “Yeah, you were this small once too.” “I was?” Her eyes big. Dean chuckled, “Yep. You were my little pumpkin pie.” 

“Daddy, I’m still your pumpkin pie.” Dean laughed, “Always baby girl.” 

“Mommy, can I hold him?” I nodded and moved over a little. Dean sat her on the bed and I helped her hold him. 

He whimpered a little and she looked up at Dean. “It’s okay sweetie. He’s going to do that. You’re not hurting him.”

She nodded and looked at him. Her eyes are full of love and wonder. “Hi baby. I’m your sister, Delilah. I’m going to protect you and take care of you. You have to be nice to Bubbles though. Bubbles is our dog. Daddy got her for mommy, but Bubbles likes daddy more.” 

I smirked and Dean laughed. “She’s not wrong, Dean.” She leaned down and kissed his head softly.

I kissed her head and Dean took a picture of the three of us. “Look at that. My beautiful wife with our babies.” I smiled at Dean and he mouthed “I love you”.

“Mommy, what’s his name?” “Well honey, his name is Charlie Dean Winchester. After daddy’s little sister Charlie.” “The one that the monster’s killed?” “Yes, baby. She was brave and helped so many people. She’s the reason daddy got the mark removed from his arm.” 

She nodded, “Well I love baby Charlie. I can’t wait to play with him.” Charlie started to cry so I took him to feed him. Dean scooped Delilah up and hugged her, “We love baby Charlie too. It’s going to be awhile before you can play with him. Right now he’s just going to sleep and eat a lot.”

“Oh, so like you daddy?” Sam, myself and Eileen started laughing. “Hey, I don’t eat a lot.” I looked at him and raised an eyebrow. “Okay, but not as much as he’s going to.” 

We chuckled. Delilah looked at Dean, “Daddy, what about the pie you ate last night?” My eyes went wide, “What pie?!” “Um, nothing.”

“Daddy, don’t lie to mommy. You and I ate that pie last night after mommy fell asleep.” Sam busted out laughing, “Wow, she won’t let you get away with anything.” 

Dean shook his head. “What can I say, the pie was good and I was hungry.” He ruffled Delilah’s hair “Thanks kiddo.” She smiled, “You’re welcome, daddy.” 

“Alright, peanut. Let’s let mommy and Charlie get some rest. They will be home soon.” “But Uncle Sammy, I want to stay.” 

She clung to Dean’s neck. “Sweetie, you’ve got to go home and get some rest. Mommy and Charlie will be okay in the hospital tonight. I’m going to stay with them.” She clung tighter, “No, daddy. I want you to come home.” 

Dean sighed and looked at me. “Delilah, mommy needs me right now, I need to stay with her. Uncle Sammy and Aunt Eileen are going to take great care of you. You’re going to have so much fun. I promise.” 

Her tears started to spill over and fall down her little cheeks. Dean’s heart broke. “Baby, don’t cry.” He kissed her head and held her tight.

“Dean, go ahead and go home with her. We will be fine. I’ll have the nurse take him to the nursery so I can get some rest.” 

Dean was torn. He wanted to stay at the hospital, but his baby girl needed him too. He ran his fingers through his hair and let out a frustrated sigh. 

“Dean, honey, I mean it. I will be fine. You and Delilah go home, get some sleep and come back tomorrow morning.” He nodded. 

Sam and Eileen were talking to the side. “Hey guys, what if Eileen stays with Y/N tonight? She doesn’t mind, and it will give her practice for when we have a baby.” I smirked, “Are you trying to announce something Sammy?” He laughed, “Oh no, not yet. What do you think?”

Dean looked at me and I looked at him, “That would be great. Thank you, Eileen.” She smiled and signed, “Of course. I can’t wait to hold him and help with him.” 

Dean let out the breath he was holding. He pulled Eileen into a hug and thanked her. He leaned down, kissed my lips and kissed the baby on the head. 

“Thank you baby for our beautiful family. You’re amazing and have given me two of the greatest gifts anyone could get.” “Thank you, Dean, for giving me two beautiful babies.” We kissed again and I gave Delilah a goodbye kiss. Then Sam, Dean and Delilah left. 

Charlie and I were released from the hospital after two days. Dean insisted on helping with night feedings again. He wanted to bond with his son like he did Delilah. During the day I took care of him for the most part. Delilah helped, but we noticed when Dean’s attention was on Charlie, Delilah would withdraw into herself. 

Then we noticed little things around the bunker that were either broken or out of place. I walked into the nursery with Charlie to change him and found his baby powder on the floor, opened and spilled. 

“Hey Dean, can you come here please?” Dean walked in the nursery and saw the mess. He sighed. “Dean, do you think Bubbles jumped up here and knocked the powder over?” He shrugged, “Maybe, I’m just not sure.”

I changed Charlie and Dean took him so I could go clean the kitchen. He walked in the Dean cave and sat in the rocking chair he put in there and started rocking Charlie. Delilah came in and started talking loudly. “Pumpkin, you have to be quiet. Charlie is trying to fall asleep.” 

“But daddy, I want to play and you never play with me anymore.” “Yes I do baby. I played this morning with you. Right now baby Charlie needs me.” 

She crossed her arms and pouted. She whispered as she walked out of the room, “Stupid baby. He’s my daddy.” 

Dean turned and looked at Delilah as she left the room. He sighed heavily. He knew this was coming. When Sammy was born Dean was excited, but then it quickly turned to jealousy.

When Charlie was asleep Dean carried him into the nursery to lay him down. He noticed diapers were all over the room and some of his stuffies were on the floor. Dean knew it wasn’t Bubbles.

Walking into the kitchen Dean put his arms around me and hugged me, “Hey, can we talk for a second.” I dried my hands and nodded, “What’s up?”

“I think I know who put the powder on the floor. It was probably the same person who put diapers and stuffies all over the room and called Charlie a stupid baby before leaving the room.” 

I sighed, “Delilah?” Dean nodded, “Yeah, I think she’s jealous.” “That makes sense. I’ll go talk to her.” Dean touched my arm, “No, let me. She seems more jealous when I’m with Charlie.” I nodded and he left to find Delilah.

He found her sitting on the floor with her stuffies having a tea party. Her favorite stuffy, the one Dean bought her when she was born, was sitting on the floor over in the corner. His heart sank. 

“Hey baby girl, we need to talk.” She looked at Dean with her big green eyes sparkling, “Okay daddy. What do you want to talk about?” “We need to talk about you and baby Charlie.” Her face fell, “Oh, why do we have to talk about him?” “Well baby, he’s part of our family. He’s your little brother and he’s going to look up to you as he gets older. Mommy and I want you to know that we love you just as much as we did before Charlie was born. 

She looked at Dean with tears pricking her eyes. “Sweetheart, you know that, right? Daddy loves you so much and so does mommy.”

The tears started to fall and Dean scooped her into his lap. “Baby, don’t cry. It’s okay.” She shook her head no, “Daddy I’m bad.” “What? No you’re not.” Shaking her head yes she cried, “Daddy I messed up Charlie’s room. I’m sorry daddy.” 

Dean held her tightly, “Hey, it’s okay baby. When Uncle Sammy was a baby I put peanut butter in his hair and tried to say he did it.” She smiled, “You did?” Dean nodded. “Come on, let’s go talk to mommy and when Charlie wakes up we can pick up his room together.” She nodded and hugged Dean’s neck tightly. “I love you daddy.” “I love you too, pumpkin.” 

*Time Jump 12 years* 

Delilah sat at the table in the library staring at her phone. Charlie was sitting working on his homework. “Hey sis, can you help me with this math problem? I don’t understand it.” 

Delilah, engrossed in her phone, didn't hear him. “Sis, did you hear me?” “Huh, oh yeah, what’s up?” “Can you help me with this math?” 

She nodded and got up to help him. Her phone went off and she glanced at it. A smile formed on her face. 

Charlie looked at her and smirked, “Okay, spill it. Who is he?” Delilah smiled at him and said, “His name is Jaxon and he’s a Senior. He asked me out Saturday night and I really want to go. 

Charlie just looked at her and said, “Well good luck with Dad.” Delilah bit her lip, “Yeah, he’s gonna be a hard sell.” 

Delilah walks to our bedroom and knocks on the door, “Hey mom, dad, can I talk to you two?” “Yeah, baby come in. We’re just folding laundry.” 

Dean pulled her in for a hug, “What’s on your mind pumpkin?” He could tell she was nervous. 

“Well, there’s a guy at school, Jaxon.” Dean’s jaw tightened. We both stopped what we were doing and focused on her. “He asked me out on Saturday and I really want to go. Can I go?”

Dean and I exchanged a look and before I could say anything Dean spoke up, “How old is he and what grade is he in?” “He’s a Senior and he just turned 18. He’s on the football team too.” 

Dean shot me a look. I knew what was coming next. “We need to meet him before we agree on you going on a date. He’s legally an adult and you’re not.” Delilah crossed her arms over her chest, “Dad, that’s not fair. He just turned 18 and he’s still in school. It’s not like I met him at a bar.” 

“I understand that, but we get to meet him before you date him. You know those are the rules.” “Those are stupid rules, it’s like you don’t trust my decisions.” 

Dean’s jaw clenched and nostrils flared. “Okay, Delilah, invite Jaxon over or we will meet out at a restaurant and we will decide after that. Dean, not another word right now. We’ve said our stipulations and Delilah understands them, right?” She nodded. 

She turned on her heels and left the room. Walking into her room she slammed the door and flopped on the bed. 

I walked over to Dean and placed my hands on his chest, “Honey, she’s a teenager now. We’ve raised her right and we have to trust her.” He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed, “I know. I just don’t want her to get hurt.” “I know, baby. We have to trust her and trust that she will make smart decisions and ask us for help if she needs it.” 

Delilah figured Dean would say no so she sent Jaxon a text.

Delilah: Hey, dad is being an ass. How about we meet tonight at the diner on 5th?

Jaxon: So he said no to Saturday? 

Delilah: Pretty much. He’s not happy that you’re 18. Mom didn’t even defend me. 

Jaxon: Damn. Okay, what time do you want to meet?

Delilah: How about 11. They should all be asleep by that time. I can sneak out and meet you there.

Jaxon: Sounds great. I can’t wait to see you. Can you wear that pretty pink top you wore for picture day?

Delilah smiled and blushed.

Delilah: Yeah. Any other requests?

Jaxon: The skirt too. 😘

Delilah: Okay. I can’t wait. See you then. 

Jaxon: Me either. 

Delilah laid back on her bed and giggled. Her heart pounded in her chest. She couldn’t believe a Senior, a football star, wanted to date her. 

Later that night everyone said goodnight. Delilah had gotten ready for bed and laid in bed listening for the doors to the bedrooms to close. 

About twenty minutes later, Delilah got up and changed. Checking herself in her full length mirror she smiled. Applying a little makeup, she grabbed her shoes, purse and coat. 

Opening her door she peeked out. When the coast was clear she tiptoed out and through the garage. She arrived at the diner a few minutes before eleven and found Jaxon leaning against his car. 

Her breath quickened as she approached him. “Hey beautiful.” She blushed and said, “Hey.” He took her hand and they walked in the diner. 

They sat down, ordered some food and ate. Delilah and Jaxon talked and his hand brushed against hers. 

“What do you say we get out of here?” Jaxon asked as he took her hand in his. Delilah was excited and nervous, but nodded yes.

Jaxon paid the bill and they climbed in his car. “Where are we going?”

“I have a special place I want to show you.” She nodded and he took her hand while he drove. 

A few minutes later he was pulling up at “Lover’s Lane”. Delilah suddenly got nervous. He put the car in park and slid over to her. “Hey do you want to get in the back?” Delilah bit her lip and nodded.

They got out and got in the backseat. As soon as the door shut Jaxon’s lips were on hers and his hands were running over her body. He cupped her breast and Delilah jumped back. “Jaxon, wait. I’m not ready for this.” “Aww, come on baby. Don’t you want to be able to tell everyone you made out with me.” 

She swallowed hard. He kissed her again and this time it was harder and his hands were grabbing her and trying to pull up her shirt. “Jaxon, stop!” He kept pushing himself on her. When he went to kiss her again and his hand slipped up her shirt, she bit his lip hard and kicked him in the groin. “I said NO!” “You bitch!” Jaxon slapped her across her face. She grabbed her stuff and stumbled out of the car. 

Jaxon climbed in the driver’s seat and put the car in drive and left. Leaving Delilah alone and miles away from home. She was crying and was terrified. 

She heard Dean’s voice in her head, “You can always call us for help, no matter what.”

She was shaking and pulled out her phone and dialed Dean’s number. Dean looked at his phone and was confused. He groggily answered the phone, “Baby, why are you calling me. What’s wrong?” Dean heard Delilah crying and sat up, “Baby! What’s wrong?” 

“Daddy, I’m so sorry. I messed up and I’m so scared. I snuck out and he left me. He left me all alone.” “Where are you baby?” “Lover’s lane. Daddy, I’m so sorry.” “It’s okay baby. I’m on my way.” I was awake and heard Dean’s end of the phone call.

When he hung up I looked at him. I could see the anger and fear in his eyes. “She’s okay, she snuck out and he left her. I’m going to get her and bring her home.” I nodded, “Tell her I love her.” He kissed my lips and left.

A few minutes later Delilah heard the roar of the Impala. When Dean saw her, anger filled his body. His baby girl was standing in the cool night air in a thin shirt and skirt. When he got out of the car he saw her shirt was ripped. Her body trembled as he pulled her close to him.

Taking off his jacket he wrapped it around her and held her tight. Tears pricked his eyes as he held her. “It’s okay baby. You’re safe. I’m here.” “Daddy, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have snuck out. This is all my fault.”

“No baby, it’s not. What happened?” “Everything was going well. Then he brought me here. I knew it was wrong, but I didn’t know what to say. We got in the backseat and started kissing.” She stopped and took a breath.

Dean was getting angrier and angrier as she spoke. 

“Then he tried to force himself on me and I screamed no. He kept going so I bit him and kicked him. He ripped my shirt and smacked me in the face.”

Dean breathed in deeply and let it out. He wanted to find Jaxon and kick his ass. 

“Okay baby, let’s get you home. You’re safe now. I promise.” She nodded and they got back in the car and headed home. 

I paced in the garage waiting for them to get home. I was terrified and the lump in my throat wouldn’t go away until I knew she was safe. 

A few minutes later I heard the rumble of the Impala. I stopped pacing and steadied my breath. I looked through the windshield and saw Delilah wearing Dean’s jacket and curled against the door. Dean’s jaw was tight and I saw fear and anger in his eyes. 

When he climbed out of the car, our eyes met. Mine silently asked if she was okay, his telling me she wasn’t. My heart sank. Dean walked around the car and opened the passenger side. He helped her out.

I noticed her shirt was torn open and panic and anger filled me. I ran to their side and threw my arms around her. 

She sobbed and her legs gave out. Dean scooped her up and carried her inside to her room. He carefully laid her on her bed where she instantly curled into a ball. 

Tears pricked my eyes. My sweet baby girl was hurting and I couldn’t make it stop. Dean leaned down and placed a soft kiss on her head and started to walk out. 

“Daddy, please don’t go.” Her voice was barely a whisper. He spun on his heels and sat on the bed beside her. I walked around to the other side of the bed and sat down. 

Her green eyes, red and swollen from crying, looked up at me. “I’m so sorry mama. It’s all my fault.” “Shh, no it’s not baby. None of this is your fault.” 

About an hour later she was calmer. She asked to take a shower and I looked at Dean. He shook his head yes. I told her I’d bring her some fresh clothes.

Delilah went to the shower room and Dean sat down on our bed and ran his fingers through his hair. I stood in front of him and held him. “Damnit, I’m going to kill that kid. Y/N he took advantage of her!” I rubbed his head, “I know baby. Did she tell you what happened?” 

Dean nodded, his words caught in his throat. “She told him no and he still tried to force himself on her. He not only put his hands on her, but he slapped her when she bit and kicked him.” 

I could feel his breathing increase. “Dean, calm down baby. I know, I want to rip his head off too, but right now she needs us.” Dean clenched his jaw.

“I need to go take her clothes. I’ll be back.” I kissed his head and left. 

I grabbed her some clean clothes and walked to the shower room. I knocked and heard sobs. I pushed open the door and found Delilah sitting on the floor, legs pulled to her chest and crying.

My heart broke and I wanted to kill Jaxon. I sat the clothes down and ran to her side. I sat on the floor beside her and pulled her into my arms. Reaching up I turned off the water and wrapped her in a towel. “Mommy I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have snuck out. I should have listened to Daddy.” 

I lifted her head up to look at me, “Hey, no. This is not your fault. This is all on Jaxon. He took advantage of you because he thought he could. Daddy told me you protected yourself, and baby, we are so proud of you for that. We all make mistakes in our lives, but you sneaking out does not excuse what he did to you. Nothing will ever make that okay. We love you so much baby and we’re thankful you called us. I promise we are not mad at you.”

I placed a soft kiss on her forehead and stood up, pulling her up with me. When we stood up I noticed scratches on her chest and bruises forming around her neck and her face.

I had to steady my breath but inside was a ball of rage. “I’m going to let you get dressed, I’ll be right outside.” She nodded and I left. 

I stood outside the door and waited. A few minutes later Delilah walked out. The two of us walked to her room where she crawled in the bed. “Mama, can you get daddy?” I nodded and left to find Dean. 

I found him in the bedroom pacing. I saw tears in his eyes. Crossing the room I pulled him in my arms, “Hey, it’s okay. She’s safe and asking for you.” 

He wiped his face and nodded. We walked to her room, “Hey pumpkin.” “Hey daddy. Can you stay with me until I fall asleep?” “Of course I can.” 

He sat beside her and I crawled in the bed behind her. The two of us held her while he sang to her.

I felt her body finally relax and she fell asleep. Dean leaned down and kissed her head then ran his hand over my cheek. I smiled and nodded.

He left the room and I stayed. I wanted to stay with her for a while. 

The silence in the room was deafening. The events of the night replayed in my head. About an hour later I slipped out of the bed and her room.

Walking to our bedroom I thought I’d find Dean in there. He wasn’t. My brow furrowed. I checked the kitchen, the showers, the library, still nothing. 

I walked to the gym and heard grunts. I took a deep breath. Pushing open the door I found Dean punching the punching bag with a brutal assault. His muscles tense and his jaw so tight I thought he would break a tooth. 

Each punch was more forceful than the last and pulled a primal grunt from his lips. I hadn’t seen him this angry in a very long time. 

“Dean, honey.” His grunts stopped and his eyes flicked to mine. “Let’s go to bed.” “No!” His voice dripped with venom. I flinched at the anger.

“Okay. I love you. I’ll be in the bedroom.” The punching resumed and I walked away. 

I knew Dean was angry at himself for not protecting her and angry at Jaxon for taking advantage of her. 

His assault on the bag raged on. “Stupid fucking punk! Does he think he can take advantage of my baby girl?! I’ll snap him in half.” 

Dean hit the bag hard and felt a pain shoot through his hand. “Shit!” 

Dean grabbed his jacket and keys and got in the car. He drove out of the garage and headed towards town. 

Sitting in baby he saw the glow of the neon lights from the bar. 

He hadn’t been in a bar or gotten drunk since before Delilah was born. Tonight the alcohol called to him like a siren's call. 

He walked in and sat down at the bar. Getting the attention of the bartender he ordered a whiskey and a beer. 

The first sip of whiskey burned down his throat. After two glasses of whiskey and three beers in the alcohol started to numb the pain like a balm. 

The image of his little girl shaking and crying replayed in his head. After a few more the bartender cut him off. 

Dean was pissed so he hopped in the car and headed for the convenience store on the corner. 

The bright lights made Dean wince as he made his way back to the beer case. He grabbed a six pack and headed towards the counter. 

Once outside he heard some voices coming from the car beside his. 

“Yeah. She was dressed like a little slut. She was begging for it. It was so easy to get what I wanted for her. I had her begging for more.” 

The teenage boys were laughing and asking for more details. Dean tried to ignore it, then something caught his attention. 

“So Jaxon, how was that tight pussy? Did she cry when you fucked her?” They all started laughing. Dean’s head spun around when the boy said “Jaxon”. 

“Yeah. She was wild. Maybe Delilah would be willing to help y’all out too.” 

Dean snapped. He grab the boy by the shirt and slammed him to the brick wall. 

“What the fuck did you say?! You tried to rape my daughter and now you’re trying to pass her around to your friends?!” 

Dean’s fist landed square in Jaxon’s nose. Then another punch and another. 

Dean was so angry he didn’t hear the police pull up. 

They arrested Dean and sent Jaxon to the hospital. 

I was asleep when the phone rang. “Hello?” “Hi, is this Y/N Winchester?” 

“Yes, um who’s this?” “Hi Mrs Winchester, this is Officer Smith with the Lawrence Police Department, your husband has been arrested for public intoxication, disorderly conduct, and assault.” 

“Oh my god. Can I come get him or does he need to stay there?” “No, ma’am, you can come get him.” 

“Okay, I’ll be there soon. Can you tell me who he assaulted?” “Yes, he assaulted Jaxon Jones. Mr Winchester said Mr Jones tried to sexually assault your daughter and left marks on her.” 

“Yes he did. It’s a mess. I’ll be there.” “Okay, Mrs Winchester, you know you can press charges against Mr Jones.” 

“Yes, I’ll talk to my daughter and see what she wants to do.” “Okay. See you soon.” 

I hung up, got dressed and walked to Delilah’s room. “Hey sweetie, I have to go pick up dad. He got into some trouble. We will be back as soon as we can.”

“Mama, what did he do? “He did what he thought was best. We will talk about it tomorrow, I just wanted to let you know in case you or Charlie woke up and we were gone.” “Is dad in a lot of trouble?” “I hope not sweetie, but I don’t know yet.” I kissed her head and left.

Driving towards the police station my heart pounded in my chest. Dean hadn���t gotten drunk or stepped foot in a bar since before Delilah was born. Tonight really did a number on him. I hated seeing him so angry when he was in the gym, but I honestly thought he’d have worked it out. I didn’t think he would get drunk and beat up the kid. Not that I blamed him.

I arrived at the police station and walked in. I was greeted by a deputy at the front desk, “Good evening, ma’am. Can I help you?” “Yes, I received a phone call from Officer Smith. My husband, Dean Winchester, was brought in.”

“Oh yes, ma’am. One second and I’ll get Smith.” I nodded and smiled, “Thank you.” “Oh and ma’am, for what it’s worth, I would have done the same thing. I have three daughters at home myself.” I smiled.

A few minutes later Officer Smith came into the lobby to get me. “Mrs. Winchester, if you’ll follow me I have some paperwork for you and then your husband is free to go.” 

I walked to the desk and signed some paperwork. A few minutes later Dean was brought out. His head was hanging low and I saw his hands were bandaged. 

Dean walked up to me and his voice was soft, “I’m sorry baby.” “Dean, we will talk about this later. Excuse me, Officer Smith, is there anything else I need to do before I take him home?” He shook his head no. “Mr. Winchester, the Jones boy, decided not to press charges. Seems like his daddy felt like he got what he deserved. You’re free to press charges against him if you’d like.” Dean nodded, “I’ll think about it, thank you.” 

Dean and I walked out to my car and he climbed in. “We will get Sam to help us bring the Impala home tomorrow.” Dean nodded. 

The drive back was so silent it was deafening. I looked over and saw Dean staring out the window. I placed my hand on his thigh. 

His hand covered mine and when I looked at him I saw the tears falling from his eyes. A lump formed in my throat. 

I pulled the car over and put my arms around him. Sobs filled the air and his body shook. “Dean, it’s okay baby.” “I’m so sorry. I lost it. I got drunk, he was talking about my baby. Offering her up like a piece of trash and before I knew it I attacked him. I’m so sorry. I couldn’t protect her.”

“Dean, look at me. This is not your fault. I just wish you would have talked to me before you took off. Baby, you have always protected the people you love. Especially your little girl. Dean, she’s safe and we’re safe. That’s all that matters. You were there when she needed you the most. Remember that. When she called you didn’t hesitate to get to her. That’s who you really are. Not someone who gets drunk and gets into fights.”

He held me tight, “I know. I just hope she can forgive me. That you can forgive me.” I cupped his face and placed a soft kiss on his lips, “Dean there is nothing to forgive. I love you, we all do, and that’s all that matters.”

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[holdmecloser-gandydancer]

birthday blues

read here or on ao3

“—And I’m telling you that Lord Artemis Sterling is not only a personal family friend, but I am one of the literal saviors of the universe. Uh-huh. Yeah. Yeah from the song. No, that’s my sister. “ Taako pulls the stone away from his face and groans. He rolls his eyes at Lup. “I’m being incredibly brave right now,” he says, covering the stone with his hand. 

Lup closes the book she was attempting to read and tosses it aside on the couch. She strides over to the stool Taako has taken to slumping on whilst trying this verbal sparring match and pats him on the shoulder as a glowing support of solidarity. Spying a patch of red hair on the back deck, she steps out of the almost too cold house and into the midsummer heat. 

She finds Davenport in the midst of what appears to be a game of solitaire.

“Mind if I hide out here with you?” she asks. Technically more of a formality, she supposes, given that she lives here. But Davenport’s been withdrawn into himself lately. Feels impolite to just drop in on him. 

His back is to the door, though he nods at an empty deck chair. “You don't need to ask permission to sit on your deck, you know.” His eyes stay on the cards, seeing some kind of pattern in the haphazard array. 

She shrugs, dropping into the seat across from him. The two sit in silence for a bit, the only noise coming from Davenport’s shuffling around of card piles. 

“What's he even doing? He's been at it all morning. I could only take so much of hearing his end of the conversation over my coffee before I came out here.” Davenport condenses a few piles down into even fewer piles. 

Lup pulls her knees to her chest, picking at the small hole in the knee of her pants. “He's planning this massive birthday party for us. Says that since this is our first together in a decade, it should be some kind of rager.”

Davenport exhales a laugh. “I remember when you and Taako insisted on celebrating your entire birth month during more than a few cycles.” 

“And you just went along with it!”

He picks his eyes up from the cards and smiles, “I'm highly motivated by cake, you know this! Shit, I still think about that delicious lemon and blueberry cake that Lu—” He stops himself, almost like he's been electrocuted. 

“‘The two of you shouldn't have to make your own birthday cake,’” Lup says, a near exact mimic of Lucretia’s tone. It really was a scrumptious cake, too. Ugly as sin, but only Taako had the heart to tell her so. Everyone else just wanted to spare her feelings. 

“Do you hate her?” Lup isn’t sure where this bluntness came from. Now isn’t the time. It’s never the time. 

“Do you?” Davenport’s head snaps up abruptly. 

“No,” She says immediately. After a few seconds, she amends her statement. “Yes. It’s…it’s not that easy. I asked you first.” 

He brings the cards back together to form a single deck and begins shuffling with the same automatic ease and speed that amazed Lup a hundred years ago. “I have so much anger inside of me, Lup. So much that it scares me. And this isn’t new, to be clear. Before I was in the IPRE, I got into my fair share of tavern brawls. I fought over stupid shit just to maybe get that anger out of me. It didn’t work.” He shakes his head as he makes a bridge with the cards. “It worked for a little bit. When we first started training for the mission, I felt so much joy, so much pride in our team that I thought it was going to split me open. And then we got the shit kicked out of us over and over again. I knew it was making me angry, but being struck down for wrath really put it in perspective for me. But knowing that we finally won and finally got to rest did a lot of good for me.” He begins dealing out another game. “And then she took it away. She took away everything that we worked for because she was a child who didn’t know how to deal with being told no. So I think maybe we’ve earned hating her.” He bites at the inside of his cheek and looks into the middle distance. 

Lup knows this expression well. After everything, talking too much became a bit more of a struggle for Davenport. He carries it well, all things considered. But she’s sure that’s just another tally against Lucretia. And it should be. 

“I spent a lot of time being angry in the staff. Most of my time in there, actually. Mostly at myself. And at the Hunger. And at all of you for not finding me. And at Lucretia, when I realized why none of you found me.” Errant pant threads get ripped off and dropped on the table. “I had thought that I’d done a lot of working through this shit in there. But then I got out and I really wanted to just fireball us all to the Nine Hells and back. Burn it all down so these poor bastards could start over without us. That wouldn’t have done shit though. So I got a job and I have this house with my brother and my husband and Kravitz and an obscene number of cats and I do my best to keep the peace between everyone because it can’t just be Magnus or Merle doing it but someone has to do it because we didn’t go through the meat grinder for 100 years for us to all hate her until she dies.” Lup runs her hands through her hair, tugging close to her scalp. “We fucking won and we’re just throwing away everything we fought for.”

“I don’t see the point in lying. She knows how I feel. How most of us feel.” 

“I’m not suggesting that you lie, Cap. I’m suggesting that you just consider finding a way that you can stand to be around her for a few hours. You don’t need to play pattycake and paint each other’s nails, but if you could not shoot daggers at her so she has reason to look like a kicked dog, I think it’d do us all some good.” 

“Right, gotta make sure everyone’s on their best behavior for this big birthday bash,” Davenport says flippantly. 

Lup smacks the table with an open palm, causing some of “I couldn’t care less about this stupid fucking party I want no part of!” A few birds in the backyard fly away on the wind of her outburst. “Everyone keeps talking about how this is so beautiful, mine and Taako’s first birthday together in ten years and I just don’t care.  I don’t want everyone staring at me. People who heard the story so they think they know me. Telling me how inspiring they find me. Who fucking cares? I don’t want to be an inspiration, I just want peace and quiet. I want to sleep in and eat dessert for breakfast and breakfast for dinner and not leave the house.” She shakes her head and looks into the yard. “Besides, you really think Taako’s letting Creesh in the house? That’s blasphemy inside those four walls.”

Davenport is quiet for a while. For a moment, Lup’s sure he’s just up and vanished into the mist or whatever it is men of a certain age do. But there he sits, steadfast and contemplative. It strikes Lup in that moment how much grey has crept into his hair; the unassailable captain looks so tangible, so fragile to Lup for the first time. 

Through the glass door, Lup spies Taako watching the pair of them curiously; must have been a little louder than she thought. She puts a finger up to her lips and then nods at one of the empty chairs. Taako quietly pulls the door open and pads onto the deck. Davenport barely glances behind him before nodding.

“My family never made a huge deal out of birthdays. The money usually wasn’t there. And I kept that attitude. Just another day and all that. And then when we were on the mission, the years blended into each other. I liked that. Didn’t have to dodge’s Magnus’s terrible attempts at subtly to see if I wanted new slippers. Didn’t have to admonish Barry’s incredibly unsafe fireworks because he thought that spells just weren’t the same because you couldn’t smell the chemicals hanging in the air after. Didn’t have to excuse myself to cry at cards and watercolor paintings of places I’d never get to see again. Just another day. And then I had the single worst birthday of my life, worse than when Faust Ironwood dumped me during my seventeenth birthday party. That’s a very big unseating, I’ll have you know,” He says blithely. He doesn’t elaborate and he doesn’t need to. Everyone alive knows all about Davenport’s worst birthday, lucky guy. “When it was just her and me, even before she got the Bureau off the ground, she tried to make it some kind of positive day. Even through all of that,” he waves his hand around abstractly, “I couldn’t stand it. I think I poured orange juice in her shoes over it.” 

“Waste of good orange juice, especially that late in the season,” Lup says, the barest hint of a smile on her face. 

“Should’ve sprung for sand. That shit stays in shoes until the heat death of the universe, I’m pretty sure.” Taako says, folding into an empty chair.  He looks over at Davenport. “Is that why you were in the middle of the ocean on your birthday this year?” 

He shrugs. “Nobody can ambush me with a cake if I’m alone on a boat. ” 

“You underestimate us,” Lup says ominously. 

“Besides,” he continues, “I’m with you, Lup, I can’t face all these people expecting this perfect happiness from me. I can’t celebrate with anyone from the Bureau. They knew me as a mascot and as a butler and try as they might, they don’t know what to do with me. Anytime they try to be deferential, it skeeves me out. They don’t know me. They can’t. I really don’t want them to, for that matter. I don’t want to get close to anyone. I don’t need more friends. I can barely keep up with the ones I have. Last thing I need is people trying to figure out what I want. I’d get stuck with ties and you both know how much I fucking hate wearing ties.” 

“I get it. I haven’t done shit for our birthday in—” Taako squints in thought for a moment. “‘Bout a decade.” 

“You what?” Lup demands. 

Taako raises his eyebrows. “Lup, I never even told anyone my birthday. Not my real one, anyway. I just used the idea of a birthday to get free shit sometimes. Angus fucking sleuthed out my birthday once and I hated it,” he says, not entirely truthfully. He shakes his head. “It just. My birthday, at least how I remembered it, always felt like torture. Then I realized I didn’t have to do it. So I just stopped.” 

“Then why are we renting out the entire Sword Coast for our birthday this year?” Lup’s exasperated. Once a fucking gain, she’s the victim of miscommunication and it pisses her off. 

Taako searches her face for…something. He’s looking at her and it’s the same look he gave their grandpa when he told them the real story about the tooth faerie and about how the tooth fae ate through enamel of people lost in the Feywild while they slept. The look almost says “take it back, you can take this knife you buried in my chest back and I won’t even be mad at you I promise.” 

“Lup, I thought you wanted this. I mean, it’s been so long. You’re…you’re back. This is a triumph and we didn’t get to celebrate because we were worried about not letting the embodiment of apathy vore the plane.” 

She sighs. “I don’t need the whole world to throw me a parade. I have everyone I love back and all I want to do is make up for lost time.” 

Taako smiles, a little sheepish. “Guess I should call and apologize to Lord Artemis Sterling’s secretary.” 

Lup nods. “Might be a good use of your time.” 

Davenport bites at the skin around his thumbnail, an old habit reborn like some kind of gross zombie. Everyone has their vices and, he supposes, he could have worse ones. “How about dinner? Merle’s been begging to have everyone over, especially because Chesney’s is about to open. Maybe we can do a potluck?” 

“Who’d be there?” Lup asks cautiously. Taako glances between the two of them. 

“Everyone? Not everyone everyone, but the crew? Kravitz. Anyone else you both really want. It’ll be nice to have a family dinner. Almost like old times.” Davenport suggests. It feels like he ate fiberglass insulation, but the light that rushes back into Lup’s eyes is almost enough to make up for it. 

“Everyone.” Taako agrees, surprising himself. “I don’t know about you, but I’m dying for a good lemon blueberry cake.” 

Lup grins. “Me too.” 

[xmads-omensx]

Word Count: 1,893

Pairing: Noah Sebastian X Reader (kinda)

Content Warnings: angst, swearing, mentions of smut

Tags: @shayeanna-ashlie @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @supersquirrel1996 @dontwantthemoney @tosoundlessdarkistare @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @klutzy-kay24 @heyyoplayer @lacy1986 @collidewiththesav @kenjipepsi1 @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @chey-h @thisbicc @fadingangelwisp @heyyoplayer @dsireland86 @missduffsblog @overmydeadbodysblog @dominuslunae @littlebear423 @blade-dressed-in-red @rumoured-whispers @kait16xo @eclipseeetop @xxkittenkissesxx @theanarchymuse95 @blackveilomens @lilgarbitch @lil-garbitch

This idea was inspired by some lovely angsty insanity with @concretejunglefm <3

Call Me Lover heavily inspired this but The Wedding So was too perfect to not add too

The white decorative envelope had sat untouched for months.

Ever since Richard and I had filled the invitations out and sent them off to their intended recipients, this one singular invite remined untouched.

It wasn’t like I didn’t want to send it. It broke my heart to see it sitting there. But I couldn’t physically bring myself to send it.

So there it sat. All alone. As if it was waiting to be picked up and sent off to who it was addressed to even though that day would never come.

It hurt to look at the envelope as it reminded me of what almost was but could never be.

I looked at the ornate, white envelope and saw him.

It hurt me.

Despite not having sent the invite to him, I was still hurt when we received replies from everybody else except him.

More than anything, I wanted him to be there on such a special day, even though our relationship wasn’t exactly going smoothly at the time.

Months had passed and I still wondered about posting the invitation, simply to see if he would reply. We hadn’t spoken since the date in question.

He had managed to attend regardless, due to Nicholas inviting him as his plus one, deciding that it wasn’t fair that he shouldn’t be there.

The words that he had spoken to me that day repeated in my brain as if they were on a constant loop and there was nothing that I could do to escape it. To escape him.

Richard said I did the right thing, not sending the invite out, but I still wasn’t sure if I believed him. He was always going to be biased against him, no matter what I did to ease his mind on the subject.

He would always be my first love. My first everything.

I dragged my eyes away from the envelope and left my office, heading to the bedroom to finish folding laundry.

The room was large, a king sized bed in the middle with white dressers on either side. A large window covered one wall with white drapes framing it. The wardrobe was fitted into the wall opposite the bed and was a light grey colour. Richard didn’t really like colour, so most of our home was light greys and white. He said it was elegant.

Before living with Richard, my walls were covered in posters, with framed photos of my closest friends placed on the mantlepiece and my bookcase.

Now, those photos and posters hung in my office, since it was my space.

A select few, however sat on my desk. Those ones were my favourites.

One depicted us when we were much younger. His hair was choppier and sat around his shoulders. He had only recently gotten his throat tattooed, so his neck looked very rigid in the photo as he was still trying not to bend it.

Another showed us a few year later, his hair well past his chest, after one of his shows. He had his arm slung around my shoulder as we grinned like idiots. That one was my favourite.

The third and final photograph was much more recent. His hair now much shorter, cut around his ears, and he looked a lot buffer than in previous years. We weren’t stood close together anymore. It had become too hard. That was the photo that the white envelope rested on.

I opened the wardrobe and began hanging up clothes, when out of the corner of my eye, I saw a familiar black bag hanging up.

The dress.

I didn’t want to look at it, but my hands seemed to be on autopilot.

I unzipped the bag and out spilled layers of white lace and tulle, cascading to the floor like a waterfall.

I stared at it for a moment, my mind flittering back to that day. The happiest day of my life.

Supposedly anyway.

The church was elegant and simple. It didn’t matter since we were only having a small wedding.

My family and friends had all arrived on time, and were now seated inside the church awaiting my arrival.

My heart was fluttering inside of my chest, feeling like it could erupt any moment into a burst of colour and life.

Richard was stood at the end of the aisle, ready to spend the rest of his life with me.

Against tradition, I had opted to walk myself down the aisle since the promise that I had made to my childhood best friend now lay broken after years of denial.

Ever since I was little, I had always adored the idea of my best friend walking me down the aisle to my future husband, but deep down what I really wanted was for him to be the one that I was walking towards at the other end.

The image still sat perfectly in my mind. Him, a the altar in his stunning black suit, tattoos on display but only barely peeking out of the cuffs of his sleeves and the collar of his shirt. His hair could be effortlessly styled and his eyes would well up with tears as I walked towards him.

But that never happened. It never would.

Instead, Richard stood at the altar waiting. No tattoos peeking through. No effortlessly perfect hair. Certainly no tears.

Don’t get me wrong, Richard was a nice guy, in fact he was probably every girls dream guy, but he wasn’t mine.

My dream man sat at home, uninvited.

At least I thought that was the case.

A deep voice being cleared shook my out of my thoughts as I stood in front of the double doors, waiting to make my grand entrance.

I looked up towards where the noise had came from, and my breath caught in my throat.

Noah.

He was here.

His black suit made him look smart. His hair was effortlessly styled into place. His tattoos peeked delicately from beneath his clothes. I even thought I caught a glimpse of a tear in the corner of his eye before he swiftly wiped it away.

But it was wrong.

All wrong.

Memories of every near miss flashed through my mind as I looked into his deep, chocolate brown eyes.

When he drove miles across the country to visit me when I went away for college, and even gave me my first kiss after I spent most of our only night together ranting about how all of my friends taking the same subject as me all had boyfriends, whilst I had never even kissed anybody before.

When he had so lovingly taken my virginity later that night because I was too scared that I would lose it to some random guy at a party, telling me that nothing had to change between us. I believed him, even when my heart fluttered and his eyes lit up with life as we made love in my dorm room.

When he drove me to see my long-distance ex-boyfriend for hours, even though he didn’t want to and most definitely had more important things to be doing with his time, without complaint, even letting me play my music that he very much hated.

My boyfriend, however, didn’t share the same gratefulness as he saw me step out of Noah’s old, beat up truck.

He had yelled at me, calling me a slut for hanging around that “disgusting band dude” and had accused me of cheating on him, which I never had done.

I had locked myself in the bathroom and called Noah, who had rushed back to pick me up after we had that particularly nasty fight.

The moment I saw his car in the driveway, I was shocked. A drive that should’ve taken him hours, had only taken him five minutes.

I only put the pieces together when he pulled into the car park of a shitty motel and unlocked one of the rooms.

“I was worried.” Noah had explained. “I didn’t want to leave you here alone.”

My heart leapt inside of my chest at those words.

Noah had reached his hand up, and brushed away some stray hairs that had fallen into my face before pulling me into a hug.

“You always have me, no matter what.” He had whispered into my ear.

That night, my boyfriend had called to break up with me, and in turn Noah held me in his arms all night as I sobbed into his chest.

As I lay there in Noah’s arms, a wave of realisation hit me as the depth to which Noah cared for me began to make sense. He drove hours upon hours just to make me happy, even though he was going out of his way to do it, then proceeded to stay in a shitty motel just to make sure that I was safe.

That’s when I knew.

He loved me.

And I loved him in turn.

His large hand found mine underneath the covers and gripped it tightly, almost as if he was afraid that I would leave him.

I never would.

Not in a million years.

So instead of pulling my hand away and finding a more comfortable position, I lay there, staring up at the slightly mouldy and discoloured ceiling, holding the hand of the man who had my entire heart.

The drive back home had been silent.

Neither of us wanting to discuss the night before.

Regardless of that, I knew what I wanted.

I wanted Noah to be mine, in every single way.

I wanted him to make me smile, make me laugh, make me cry. I wanted him to make me so unimaginably mad at him that I thought I hated him at times.

But most of all, I wanted to love him for the rest of my life.

However, this idea of mine was rapidly shut down when Noah brought Monica over.

She was drop-dead gorgeous. Long, dark hair and a killer figure.

She was everything a man could dream of, and everything a woman would want to be.

But worst of all, she had Noah.

He had moved on.

So I did too.

Richard and I met in a coffee shop after having our orders mixed up. He was cute, so I decided t go for it and ask him out. He said yes and the rest was history.

Monica and Noah didn’t last long.

I never found out why they ended things, but from what I hear Noah had been in love with another woman the entire time.

Deep down, I knew it was me she had been talking about.

In fact, it was undeniable and had been since that night in the motel room all those years ago.

Noah and I didn’t talk much anymore. We  could barely even look at eachother anymore.

Now I stood before the hardest decision I would ever have to make.

Do I open those double doors and walk down the aisle towards a stable future with Richard?

Or do I follow my heart and choose Noah?

“It’s not too late you know.” He had said to me as I stood there in my elegant wedding gown.

“I know.” I replied, before holding my elbow out towards my best friend, determined to see this promise through until the end, even if it wasn’t what I wanted.

[sad-girl-hours23]

Thanks for the ask! Idk why but this took me approximately a billion years to write. I hope you don't hate it :)

Buck carries a vase of flowers into Tommy’s hospital room and sets them on the table in front of the window amongst the other bouquets and Get Well Soon cards. “If you get any more flowers, you’re going to need a bigger room.” He pauses for an indulgent chuckle that never comes. “I brought Heliotropes today. They’re your favorite shade of purple, like the ones you used to buy me.” Buck looks out the window and swallows harshly. “You know, I thought it was funny the first few times you bought me your favorite flowers. Until I learned the meaning of the name: sun-turning.” Buck wipes the tears from his eyes. “You always said that looking at me was like looking at the sun.” Quieter, Buck says, “maybe that’s why you walked away.” 

He sits in the chair beside Tommy’s bed. “I’ve missed those flowers these past few months; the color it added to my kitchen, the cherry pie smell. I almost bought some for myself, but do you know what I realized? I never bought you flowers—not once in our six months together. I’m not sure you know how much I care about you and I don’t blame you. Anyway, I didn’t buy the flowers, but I have gotten really good at baking, so my kitchen does smell like cherry pie again. It’s a shitty consolation prize.”

Buck takes Tommy’s hand in his. It hurts to see him this way—fragile and lifeless—but he’s still here. He’s still alive and there’s nowhere else Buck would rather be. “I hope you can hear me. I hope you’ve been able to hear me these last four days. And not just me, you’ve had a lot of visitors. I bought a guest book for everyone to sign.” Buck laughs. “Weird, I know, but I wanted you to have a reminder of all the people who are here for you, how many people love you.”

He squeezes Tommy’s hand. “The doctors say everything is healing as it should. That it’s up to you now. I’ve been there. Maybe you’re having a coma dream like I did—one where your mom is still alive and your dad isn’t an asshole and you have a boyfriend who buys you flowers and anniversary gifts and tells you he loves you and you’re captain of your firehouse and you have everything you’ve ever wanted.” 

Buck takes a deep breath. “However good you think you have it in there, it’s not real. You have to wake up, Tommy, because the world is darker without you. It turns out, it’s you that's the sun. I know it’s selfish, I know you may never give me a second chance, but I need you to wake up so I can buy you flowers and tell you I love you anyway.”

Buck lays his head on the hospital bed, his limbs heavy with exhaustion. “Please come back to me.”

Tommy’s fingers twitch against his palm.

[tonguetiedraven]

Yukio and True Cross: A Tale of Exploitation

Part 4 of my Yukio Okumura Critical Reading series. (Other parts here: one, two, and three) Please read them before diving into this one. It will continue to build on what was covered there.

We've discussed Yukio's role at the academy and how he views his role in Rin's life, and how he views himself in the lives of his peers. Now I want to talk about one of the biggest hinderances in Yukio's day to day life.

True Cross.

True Cross is a problem. A problem for Yukio and Rin in a lot of varying ways. Not just the obvious and looming problem of their parentage being enough reason for them to both be killed. There are a lot of reasons that Yukio is the way he is and makes the moves he makes, and aside from Mephisto, True Cross itself is probably his biggest opponent on the chess board his life is. For now at least. The Illuminati is waiting in the wings.

Now when last we left our overworked exorcist, he was sporting this expression in chapter 12.

And honestly, this is what I'm imagining every time he wears that customer service smile.

I've touched on it in my other parts, but now I want to take a moment to really reflect on the fact that Yukio has two jobs.

Yukio Okumura is fifteen. This is his first year of high school just like the rest of the cram students. This was his first time moving out as well, and on the day he isn't at home, Shirou dies.

But we'll get to that a bit later (honestly a lot later) when Rin finds out about the Blue Night.

Now at this point it's been about four months since Shirou died and the twins started True Cross Academy. It's often easy to lose track of time in this story, and I'll try and periodically remind everyone of where we're at with that.

The twins have officially made it through one semester at this school. One semester of keeping this a secret. Mostly.

One semester of living on their own. Of trying to make Yukio's scholarship and pay cover both of their expenses. One month of trying to keep Rin somewhat in line. One month of teaching a class he got very little heads up for. One month of doing additional exorcists missions on top of all that and maintaining his grades.

Why point that out? Because I want to make it clear that Yukio has been put under a lot of pressure. More pressure than he ever has been under, but he has been under a lot of pressure since he was seven. What he has also lost is the support and guide he had during those first seven years on this path.

This arc will give us our first real view of what True Cross the organization is like, and it does not paint it flatteringly. Nor should it.

Chapter 12 is the midway point of the mini camp arc. Everyone is in the forest trying to find a lantern and bring it back and the sky has just lit up briefly with blue flames. This is from Rin finding Shiemi passed out, getting frustrated/overwhelmed with the chuchi all over the place, and igniting.

By all likelihood he didn't intend to do that, however he still did and it is by the dumb luck he lives by that he didn't get caught.

Yukio is wearing the above expression because he sees the sky light up and Shura is laughing a few meters behind him.

Shura reassures Yukio that it'd just be bright in this darkness, and she's right. Ryuuji, who didn't have his flashlight on, knew there was a bright light but didn't recognize it as blue.

Nonetheless, we have Yukio showing a moment of frustration or exhaustion or likely both, and saying that he can't hide Rin's power much longer.

That's an important moment of verbiage to clue us into Yukio's headspace here. He is putting himself in the position of responsible party for Rin's secret. He is aware that when the secret comes out it will land on his shoulders to handle it and and he is aware it is his responsibility to delay it as much as possible.

It should absolutely not be his responsibility mind you. He is aware of the exorcist world, yes, but he is also fifteen and should not be in this position. I strangely often see people rage that Rin is expected to keep this secret while also blaming Yukio on the fact that it got out. It often seems that people who put forth a more responsible figure and manner are expected to take on more responsibility and then blamed when the responsibilities heaped upon them (and Yukio has many) overwhelm them or come to the only conclusion they possibly could.

Rin's secret gets out because Rin is emotional and not trying as hard as he might to keep it secret. Rin is who he is, and as he tells us himself, he's not much for keeping secrets. To keep this secret would require confronting emotions and guilts he's not ready for, and would require accepting his flames to some degree, and they are, at this point, still heavily tied to Shirou's death in his mind, and that and everything demonic about him is something he avoids thinking about or dealing with to the point he'll eventually lock himself entirely out of the ability to even use them.

It doesn't help that we also know that there is another hand at play endeavoring to force them into a reveal.

Yukio asks Shura why she's here and doing this.

Shura is putting her report to the Vatican on hold (remember she's an investigator) and says it's because she thinks Rin is funny and ambitious.

I think there's some truth in that, but it's absolutely not the full reason. However for her to give the full reason would be admitting feelings and emotions she doesn't acknowledge and she is seldom serious with Yukio outside of specific moments where she's trying to mentor him, so ambition and humor are the given reason.

However the moment I want to focus on is where Yukio shows surprise. As I've mentioned, Yukio rarely blatantly shows his thoughts or emotions unless he's been pushed and driven to that position over a period of time. Here however, the mention of Shirou has him showing surprise.

Now this will come back in much later, but Yukio seems surprised by Shirou being mentioned here. (Another tally on the 'Shirou knew he was going to die' list.) We are told later that he knew this but the surprise is still there. I'm not sure if it's her taking Shirou's words into account, or if Kato retconned this scene later, but the surprise is there.

Shura doesn't bother explaining, just continuing like Yukio is already in on everything.

Now at this point we leave the conversation and Yukio ruminating over what Shura said. We're given a shot of what she's looking at too.

So we know that Shura at least is aware Mephisto and Amaimon on here. We are not told if Yukio is aware of their spying presence.

The POV switches back to Rin in the forest where they find out the actual challenge and dive into it.

When we get back to Yukio's POV we find out it is now after 4 am. So regardless of whatever time the group started out on this assignment, it has been a LONG day. I cannot emphasize that enough. That is part of this entire thing. True Cross and Mephisto rarely push and manipulate their people/players unless they are 1) stressed by as many factors as it's possible to amass, 2) exhausted, 3) isolated, and if they can swing it 4) hungry and deprived of other basic rights and comforts.

It is late, it is hot (Yukio still doesn't have his coat), Rin has already ignited once and Shura is drunk and just mumbling on the side lines, and Yukio has probably been standing here watching for at least a bit.

I will again reiterate, this is NOT just a test for Rin.

They see a bottle rocket go off -- one of the items they gave the students to use in case something went wrong, and Yukio heads out to help. This is the last we see of him this chapter. We go back to Rin and friends who meet the god of the forest, and Amaimon was right, he is way too happy to help out and causes havoc among the students and Rin.

They manage to escape the enormous chuchi's grasp through the power of friendship and good throws and book it back to the camp where we discover that Izumo and Takara both beat their group back.

For the reader that were paying close attention the first time they read this, they'll notice this means everyone used their matches on the lantern and no one set off their flare, which means Yukio went after someone that was likely not a student and likely a trap.

It takes a while for anyone else to realize this, which is fair because Shura is the only one who knows he left.

Rin asks where Yukio is like a good brother who just noticed his twin isn't present, and Shura dismisses it as Yukio being in the way.

Now this could be read as her just being light hearted/dismissive, but I think with what we'll read in chapter 15 that she was being sincere. She wanted Yukio out of the way and circle so that she could do her next actions un interrupted because Yukio is the one trying to keep Rin's flames a secret.

I cannot stress enough how every adult around Yukio is plotting and manipulating and how he cannot relax his guard around anyone. There is no one he can trust to be telling him the truth and not be trying to manipulate him, even Shura. This is also true for Rin, but Rin is unaware of it to a large degree and doesn't interact with the adults as much as he does his peers. Shura also doesn't try to manipulate him as much as she tries with Yukio. She's more direct with them.

Yukio is working multiple jobs and forced to interact with these people and has been given the responsibility to keep Rin hidden, safe, and as un manipulated as he can.

We leave Yukio with him understanding something is very, very awry and facing off against the god of the forest as the chuchi rage against him, and go back to the camp and Rin.

There are three things I want understood about the camp scene that we will mostly be skipping because this analysis is about Yukio.

This is a plot specifically to expose Rin. Amaimon is here to piss Rin off and set him off and make him lose control. Mephisto planned this, and Shura is aware of this plan to at least some degree. And to at least some degree, she goes along with it.

Rin very much plays into their manipulative hands. Shiemi is mind controlled by a chuchi egg and forced to play the part of Amaimon's willing puppet, and we are made to understand later on that she was entirely aware during this full ordeal. Renzou gets two cracked ribs and probably a concussion from this. Ryuuji gets choked enough to be coughing up blood. Konekomaru gets a bad enough break that he has to spend days in a hospital. They are all hurt during this and that should not be ignored. They are also being manipulated and used during this, and Shura got rid of Yukio so that he wouldn't be in the way, but that also meant he couldn't protect these students either.

Rin's thoughts as he's watching his friends just get decimated (and I feel the need to point out Takara and Izumo are still back at camp) is that they are all so kind. That they've supported him and helped him and encouraged him and he doesn't want them getting mauled like this and he recognizes that this is his fault. While that's not entirely true and he shouldn't put other's cruel actions on his own shoulder, he does know that Amaimon is after him and they did not which put them in a far more dangerous situation than they were aware of. Rin has also already shown himself to intercede and throw himself between people he cares about and danger on seven occasions before this. This entire setup is probably the most predictable thing that could have happened. IT WAS NOT AN ACCIDENT. It was entirely planned. Planned by a Demon King who manipulates time itself. -the seven times I'm talking about: Jumped between Yukio and the hobgolbin, jumped between Ryuuji and a reaper, jumped between Paku and the naberius, jumped between Yukio and the naberius summoned thing, lured the naberius away from the other students, took a head butt from Kuro, tried to take on the god of the forest himself.

It is only now that we switch back to Yukio's POV, and only for a moment. Yukio right next to Renzou -- just to give you an idea of how damn far Amaimon shot Renzou --sees the situation and immediately shouts for Rin to think. To stop and breathe and not do what everyone who knows Rin knows that he will do.

Yukio's plead falls on deaf ears as he knew it would. Yukio could not keep the secret by himself, and Rin is no longer willing to hide it. Rin draws the sword and the fight between him and Amaimon is on.

The next shot of Yukio, he's running towards the injured students.

He is almost immediately focused on them and their injuries. He is direct and focused on getting them to safety and away from the danger he knows Rin is.

Remember that he is the one who specifically warned Rin about getting injured and relying on his flames in chapter 8. He predicted what is about to happen.

Yukio evacuates the students with Shura showing up part way through and the two of them snapping at each other. Yukio gives Koneko a temporary cast for his arm, because if you remember, Yukio has a doctor meister and seems to at least be somewhat adept at field medicine, and he carries Shiemi himself while Rin and Amaimon tear apart the forest and light up the sky with blue flames.

They are both going more and more feral, violently tearing into each other and their surroundings, and we see Yukio looking back as they make their way forward, and I think it's worth bringing back up this moment from chapter 2.

There was more truth in this than we often acknowledge.

It is my opinion, and I believe the manga heavily supports this reading, that

this is what Yukio has feared. What he foresees as the conclusion of what will happen if Rin relies too much on his flames and the demon within himself. That Rin will cease to be Rin at all and that he will become nothing but a dangerous and feral mind like the worst of the demons that Yukio feared when he was young. That he will lose control to the demon and it will almost certainly fall on Yukio's shoulders to stop him.

And not for nothing does he have this fear.

Chapter 13 ends with them running. Chapter 14 opens with Mephisto interceding on the fight and locking a resisting Amaimon away in a Cuckoo clock prison as one does.

The students are attempting to flee with Yukio carrying Shiemi, and let's pour one out for poor Renzou who had to by all accounts climb steps to get up to that thing with his broken ribs. Like damn.

They stop because Shima can't breathe and it's at that moment that Yukio spots Shura and is furious.

Her response is dismissive and rude, and honestly I cannot imagine how infuriated that sort of response would make me in this situation. Not only does everyone use and manipulate Yukio, they very often treat him as a child while they're at it, dismissing his intelligence and skill, and it is very likely intended to further push him and frustrate him.

Yukio is truly one of the most manipulated characters in this manga.

The new Paladin is introduced on this bridge. We meet Arthur Angel who confirms with Shura that there are others spies here because there are always spies in and around, often overlapping and working for more than one party. Mephisto shows up with Rin in tow, and Rin seems entirely gone. Feral and determined to attack everything near by. He snarls and lashes out at the students, Yukio, and Shura, and seems mindless.

Angel and Mephisto and Shura hold a conversation while Yukio watches silently with the students and it isn't until the Kurikara is sheathed that Rin calms down and seems to come back to himself at all.

At which point by all accounts Rin seems to have no real memory of going feral or how he got on this bridge. Angel lunges forward to press his blade against Rin's neck and Shura gets between them leading Angel to restrain her instead.

We get the frankly fascinating lore drop that Angel seems aware Shirou asked Shura to train Rin. Apparently Shura ratted Shirou out to everyone, lol.

I'm going to skim over most of the rest of this chapter but want to pay attention to a few moments on the bridge.

We don't get real closeups of Yukio or his POV during this, but we get these moment. Him reacting to injuries and trying to gather them, all the while knowing these students are no longer seeing him the same way and knowing that everything has changed beyond his control. (It's a bit uncertain just who Ryuuji is glaring at, but honestly pretty much everyone on the bridge would make sense in one way or another.)

A thing I think a lot of people kind of glance over or miss is that Yukio himself is not at the trial that IMMEDIATELY follows the reveal of Rin. Yukio is with the students, getting debriefed and likely examined himself. He does not know what transpired there and would have had to get the information second hand, likely through Shura or Mephisto who he does not fully trust. (One he trusts far less than the other.) He wouldn't get it from Rin, or at least wouldn't get a dependable/accurate explanation from Rin who would not know who to look out for and would likely be unable to remember the details Yukio would want.

We are shown the trial from Rin's POV and we miss some of the dialogue going on around him as Rin focuses on his own thoughts.

And his thoughts go to his twin.

During this trial where they are calling him a bastard and a conspirator and a weapon and other horrid things, Rin's thoughts go to Yukio and how he didn't listen and understand what Yukio was warning him about. Rin mourns his own reactions but will never say this to Yukio. He will think it and he will hold it to his own chest as he is want to do when it comes to his twin.

Neither brother is good at talking to the other about things like this. Things that need saying. It is just another conversation put on hold, much like the conversation about Shirou's death and what Rin is now.

"Damn it," Rinthinks repeatedly, until he loses control of himself again and tells all who are assembled here (and they assembled so damn fast y'all) to shut up and listen to him and that he is not a weapon or demon lord but will be the next Paladin.

Then he disses Angel's clothing in the best Rin fashion and Mephisto's wager is accepted.

True Cross moved quickly. Much much too quickly for this to not have been planned at all. This is a farce of a trial. They found a teenager who was not supposed to be alive and instead of listening to any proper kind of evidence or even acknowledging his twin or hearing what the hell was going on at all, they immediately move to try and kill him only to shift to using him as a weapon, because using people and demons is something that True Cross excels in.

Now it is likely July 20ish and he is given six months to pass the certification exam. The certification exam has not yet happened as of my writing this, and we're in January in current manga timeline. I think the original pre world going batshit plan was for the exam to be in January but the world went a bit batshit so you know, priorities. True Cross got them right for once.

This trial was a show. It was not just nor did it pretend to be. The majority of the Grigori are aware of why the twins exist and what Mephisto is likely planning. They play ignorant a lot, and that is all it usually is, a pretend. Pretending to be unaware and ignorant allows them to have the pretense of clean hands in the atrocities we will continue to uncover in True Cross' past. This organization paints itself as the only true and just and good defense against the darkness of the world, and part of Yukio's arc is becoming more and more disillusioned with that.

He was brought into this organization by Shirou under the pretense of growing strong to protect Rin, and it seems until a certain point that he thought they were doing good, but that belief, if it was one he held, will not be able to withstand what comes.

Chapter 15 we open with Yukio a few days later. Possibly the next day. Possibly a day and a half later.

Yukio steps into their dorm room to wake up his twin to discover his twin has done the pillows in the bed trick which tells us Rin didn't want to get caught not being in bed.

He receives a text from Shura saying she's going to be late and swe see the opening of Yukio's pov closing with Yukio tightly gripping his phone and showing mounting frustration.

We're not told his reaction to the trial or the news that Rin has six months to pass. We're not told a lot about what has happened since, though we are shown that it was on Yukio to explain to the students what exactly had happened and was going on.

Yukio's hands and posture give him away in this scene. The tension and dare I say shame as he explains clinically who and what they are. That Satan possessed someone and had a child with a human woman. That Rin has flames and he does not. He doesn't quite look at them during this scene, and he cannot give them a lot of information for a lot of reasons.

This is another occurrence where we see him keeping himself at a distance from all of them. Shiemi even points out that he is formal, almost like this was a class. He does not let himself show his emotions or thoughts, just answers what he cans and leaves, likely to further questioning from other exorcists.

This is all we get of him post trial. We never see what exactly transpired between the twins after the trial. What we do see is the normal friction between the two and both of them still not quite talking to each other.

Yukio pulls Rin away from the main class for his private lessons, which seems to be the Vatican's decision about Rin hanging out with the others students. Ostracize him and make someone else handle the problem.

The twins sort of have a conversation.

Rin points out Yuio looks angry, Yukio denies it and gets annoyed at Rin acting like an older brother. (He's smiling that smile so there seems to be frustration there to me, plus the context clue of when he says it and how he says it.)

Rin says he can tell when Yukio is angry, and at this point he's accurate, but there will come a time when Rin cannot tell what Yukio is thinking/feeling, at least not accurately.

Their conversation continues with Yukio telling Rin to take this seriously for once. Rin mishears and thinks he said 'cereal' instead of serious. We love the goofball.

This is an important line for both twins. It shows how Rin intends to do and handle this, by just not thinking about it.

Rin is lying to himself here, and not even lying well to himself. This arc will force him to confront this lie and overcome it and think at least a little about all this. About what has happened and what this will mean.

Yukio will be forced to confront this lie as well, and be forced to consider his own thoughts and emotions and whether he is angry or not.

This is never just a test for Rin or for Yukio.

Shura shows up at this point and lays it out for Rin that from now on her and Yukio are always going to be watching him. She gives Rin the candle assignment and Rin does not manage it and will not manage it for a while. I want to know what the bill on candles was by the end of this. I bet Rin either lights all candles just to show he can or never lights another out of sheer stubborness.

Shura leaves Rin to it and goes back to Yukio and this cute moment happens.

She almost never calls him anything else. Another person who constantly reminds Yukio of when he was younger and wimpier and a cry baby, and remember that he has sworn to himself to never again be weak and frightened. He is striving hard to leave that all behind but cannot move past what he was with the constant reminders around him.

(*cough* Mephisto wants it that way *cough*)

Shura goads him into a challenge and we get the flashback I talked about previously of little Yukio being beaten by Shura.

I need to add that the verbiage of this bugs the hell out of me.

She orders him as his superior to do it. Shura wants Yukio to relax and not be so uptight, but she also refuses to do it and help him unless it's entirely in her way, and it causes increased stress and friction, and often comes across bratty and entitled. Their relationship is old and complicated, and there is often an imbalance in power like this. Shura is the closest he gets after Shirou's death to a mentor he can depend on, and he can't quite trust or lean on her because of things like this. She will mellow out and open up and take this more seriously and become someone he can lean on more, but it will take a while to get there with work needing to be put in.

Yukio accepts the challenge with the agreement that she stops calling him wimpy if he wins. They start to fight, Rin is shook at how good they are, and Yukio uses this moment to question her.

I don't know if I've ever seen analysis on this moment, or even much recognition of it at all. Likely because the anime and it's muddled opening episodes to the Kyoto arc doesn't really go into it.

Please read the manga, y'all. It gives us SO MUCH more than the animes gave and give us ;-;

Anyway, Yukio points out the fact that he knows that the forest was a setup. He was sent away and Rin was revealed, and it was deliberate. Shura confirms that she did indeed go along with Mephisto's plan.

Shura confirms that she did this deliberately and is happy Rin has been exposed. That she knows they're pawns. Yukio is not at all happy with any of this and we find out:

Yukio swore over Shirou's grave to protect Rin. It baffles me how people seem to ignore or not notice that Yukio is determined to protect Rin for most of this manga. He states it blatantly more than once.

He swore to protect Rin, and he has been taking the full weight of the secret upon his own shoulders. All of his peers have conspired against him, and it now confirmed that all were. The ones we are aware were in on Rin's heritage are Neuhaus, Shura, and Mephisto, and each of them have plotted and worked to make sure Rin was revealed, and he was, and now Rin has six months to pass an exam or die and Yukio is under no illusion that Rin can pass that.

Currently, he's valid for thinking that. Rin got a two on a test Yukio gave him in a class he was tailoring to Rin passing. If there's a written component to this test then they're fucked. Rin might be able to pass a skills portion, but he's currently in the next stall obliterating candles with wild flames so Yukio doesn't exactly have reasons to think that's going to happen either.

Yukio is stressed to hell and back and trying not to show it but it is slipping through the cracks and he is not being listened to by anyone around him. Rin and Shura keep dismissing his thoughts and opinions and pushing their own thoughts and opinions on him, and right or wrong, he is a person who despises being treated like he's stupid and like his words aren't being heard. (Does anyone like being treated that way?)

Shura watches his reaction and expression and asks him if he knows what makes a good exorcist. He says heart, skill, and body, which he learned from Shirou. (We'll see that in a flash back during the Blue Night arc.) Shura agrees, but says that not bottling up emotions is even more important because demons exploit resentment and stress.

Quick pause to point out earlier where I said a few thousand words ago that:

True Cross and Mephisto rarely push and manipulate their people/players unless they are 1) stressed by as many factors as it's possible to amass, 2) exhausted, 3) isolated, and if they can swing it 4) hungry and deprived of other basic rights and comforts.

This is a reason. Demon and people and organizations find it much easier to exploit people who are resentful and stressed.

Shura continues her observations.

And that is where I will end this one. Yukio is being primed for something, and Shura sees that, but Yukio is not in a place to listen to her, nor can he exactly be blamed for that with how she has treated him and manipulated them to get to this point.

We'll cover the Kyoto arc next and keep digging in on all the reasons why True Cross has a LOT of issues and why Yukio is getting so very disillusioned.

As always, check out my tag #raven ramble for more of my aoex analysis! I've got a lot more to do, and if you sent me an ask about analyses, don't worry! I will get to you <3

[clarisse0o]

The Mayor - Chapter 20

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternate Universe: Mayor and Architect

Words: 1300

Masterlist

———————————————————————

That last night had left its mark, both literally and figuratively.

I had to use every trick in the book to hide that stubborn red mark on my neck. But I’d overlooked the few scratches on my back, which Alessia quickly noticed. I improvised a story about a hike through the woods. Did she believe me? Hiking had never been one of my passions. But she didn’t ask any more questions.

These two parallel relationships were beginning to exhaust me. What I once found fun and exciting was getting harder to manage, especially as Lucy seemed to be taking up more and more space in my life. In the end, I wasn’t with anyone, building nothing but empty promises. So, when Alessia suggested a long weekend getaway to her friend’s hotel in the Basque Country, I found myself genuinely considering it. I’d told myself I wouldn’t take any vacation this year—too much work, Alexia on maternity leave… But I desperately needed a few days to clear my head and get some perspective.

Around the same time, I received some wonderful news: Alexia had given birth to a little girl, Jeanne, who arrived two weeks early. I went to the hospital immediately to meet my goddaughter, arms full of gifts. She was simply beautiful.

“She won’t stop crying! I had no idea babies cried this much!” Alexia complained, making an exaggerated face.

I laughed. “She’s a baby! She’s always hungry!”

“Oh, laugh it up! My roommate’s baby barely makes a sound! Mine’s going to drive me crazy, and you too, GODMOTHER!”

We both laughed. I’d missed my Alexia, her humor, her joyfulness—everything that had been absent at the office these past two months. She continued, “Alessia called to congratulate me! She also said you’re hesitating about going to the Basque Country?”

“I’d said I wouldn’t take a break this year, and…”

She cut me off. “Come on, Ona, it’s only three days. Just take Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday off, and stay until Sunday. That’s an ORDER! It’ll give our interns a bit more responsibility, and Raphael is doing an excellent job.”

I smiled and replied, “Careful, or you’ll replace me!”

Alexia laughed, shaking her head. I continued, “But Lucy’s project is almost finished—just one more month left, and there’s a lot of final checks to do, and…”

“Which you’ll do the following Monday! She’ll survive a few days without you, won’t she? Off to the Basque Country you go!” she insisted with a dismissive wave.

She was right—I needed this break to clear my head. It was only three short days, and I’d made my decision.

The Monday before my departure, two days before leaving, I had dinner with Lucy. We’d made a habit of meeting once a week to discuss the project and all kinds of other topics—our lives, culture, travel… Lucy was someone incredibly knowledgeable and generous. I showed her the pictures of little Jeanne.

“She’s beautiful!”

“Absolutely! And quite the set of lungs!” I replied with a smile.

“And doesn’t that make you want one of your own?”

I looked up from the photo to meet her eyes. She asked the question with such seriousness.

“One day, I suppose. But right now, my love life isn’t exactly what you’d call stable enough for a baby, don’t you think?” I replied with a teasing smile.

She looked back at her plate, so I decided to change the subject.

“Lucy, I wanted to tell you—I’m going on vacation, so we won’t see each other until next Monday!”

She looked surprised. “You’re really going?”

“Yes, I need some air. I’ll be gone Wednesday through Sunday in the Basque Country.”

“With Alessia?”

Concise and direct as always—classic Lucy.

“Yes, with Alessia.”

She stared at me. “It’s funny how you can’t bring yourself to admit you’re in a relationship with her.”

I frowned, wondering what she was implying. “What? No, we’re not in a relationship, I told you! She’s leaving soon. We get along well and love spending time together, but…”

“It doesn’t matter, Ona, whether you are or aren’t with her. Stop justifying yourself.”

Her tone became that familiar, condescending one she adopted from time to time, the one that always annoyed me.

She continued, “You’re in such a strange situation!”

It was incredible, hearing this from Lucy herself, trapped in her own loveless marriage.

“Well, that’s rich coming from you.”

A heavy silence fell, which she broke.

“And if I need your advice on something while you’re gone?”

Her voice turned sharp and cold.

“Raphael, my employee—”

“Your intern, yes.”

“Soon-to-be employee if all goes well, will come on Thursday. For the rest, you have my number. I’m sure you’ll manage five days without me, Lucy?” I challenged with a look.

“Without any trouble, Ona.”

The trip to the Basque Country went by in a flash, time racing by with Alessia. We spent our days alternating between hikes in the Basque countryside and swimming, between the mountains and the sea, between dining out and staying in our cozy room in Biarritz. Each night and each morning, we made love, reigniting desire and passion. For the first time in a year, we found ourselves free from the constraints of routine, and it felt like a breath of fresh air for both of us.

I managed to disconnect from work, though there was one person who kept intruding—Lucy. Not a day went by without a message from her, asking about a décor choice or inquiring about a particular artwork’s arrival. After Raphael’s visit on Thursday, I received a mischievous message:

"The intern is far less attractive than his mentor."

I couldn’t help but smile, though I refrained from playing along, wanting to stay focused on Alessia. I replied each time only as needed, keeping things professional. Yet every day, I found myself expecting a message from Lucy, wondering if she was deliberately creating that expectation or genuinely concerned about the décor.

Still, it didn’t stop me from cherishing every moment with Alessia. On Sunday afternoon, just before we were to leave, we shared a glass of white wine overlooking the ocean from a beautiful bar. The place was tranquil, the waves, the sun warming my back… I closed my eyes, breathing in the sea air.

“Ona, I need to talk to you.”

It was Alessia’s voice. I opened my eyes to find hers, serious and intent. What was she going to say?

“Yes?”

“Look, you can see this situation is strange. We act like a couple when we’re together, but we aren’t one…”

I saw her carefully choosing her words, taking her time. I swallowed hard, her tone unsettling me. She continued, “These last five days have been amazing, haven’t they?”

I nodded with a big smile. Yes, I had been so happy.

“You’ve seemed overworked lately, a bit distant sometimes. I don’t need an explanation, Ona…”

My hands were clammy now, dreading what she might say.

“But the truth is, it’s time to move forward and make a decision…”

So this was it—she was going to say she didn’t want to see me anymore. I’d known it would end like this, that we’d drift apart, but not now, not after such a beautiful weekend. She had brought so much happiness, so much light to my life. Tears welled up in my eyes, hidden behind my dark sunglasses. I lowered my head, barely able to utter a word. I wanted to walk away, leave this table. She took my hand, a touch that surprised and warmed my chilled heart.

“Ona, I love you. That’s not news—I’ve known it for a while. But I want to be with you. I want to give up going to Canada and get back together, Ona. Together, again.”

[apotodiplodocus]

The Girlfriend Experience

You scroll through the app on your phone absentmindedly, surrounded by a sea of people all available for hire. Different niches, ages, races—none of it matters, because everyone is someone's type, somewhere. The face mask you're wearing makes it difficult to move your expression, but you don’t pay it any mind. Instead, you focus on the flood of DMs from prospective ‘boyfriends.’ Not real boyfriends with feelings, dates, and proposals—just meal tickets. These people, scrambling to pay for a few fleeting hours of your time, are only pretending they didn’t leave their parent's basement surrounded by tissues.

Of course, you’ve perfected the art of customer service. You’ve always had an easy time pleasing those you need to, so transitioning to being paid to be charming felt natural. You accept one of the waiting DMs: two hours for a dinner date with a guy’s parents, and the equivalent of your rent for a month in return. Easy money. You take your time scrolling through his profile while he floods your phone with messages, trying to inform you about his life—and frankly, his disgusting thoughts about you. But it’s easy to separate that from your work, especially with your neighbor outside acting as the ultimate creep repellent. One of the few times you’re grateful to live in a duplex.

It took you a year just to learn his name, building up from glares and scowls to a deadpan face and a slight nod. That was until the day he finally responded to your casual greeting. The one time a guy tried to get aggressive with you, your neighbor happened to be outside. He immediately choke-slammed the guy to the ground. It was hot in a way, but at the end of the day, you don’t have time to entertain anything beyond neighborly pleasantries. He shrugged off the act, claiming it was just to maintain the image that his sister couldn’t be messed with. If he had let it happen, he’d look “pathetic,” according to him.

You shake your head, removing your face mask, and get ready for the pre-planned date. Thirty minutes into your preparation, there’s a knock at your door. You check the clock and find it strange to get a visitor at 6 PM, but you head to the door anyway. To your surprise, your neighbor stands there, leaning against the frame with a hand on his face, looking like he’s about to bolt.

“Can I help you, Gyutaro?” You ask with a smile, aiming to seem like the perfect neighbor. Gyutaro's face scrunches up, as though caught doing something he shouldn't.

"Hey," he says, sounding reluctant.

"...Hey," you reply after a beat. The air between you feels awkward.

"Look, under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t even think of talking to you, let alone ask you for something," he continues. You raise an eyebrow, unsure whether to be insulted. "But I’ve got a thing coming up, and I need someone to really mess with people’s heads. You’re... conventionally attractive, and not a hooker, right?" His phrasing leaves you a little offended, but you bite back the impulse to snap.

“What’s this about?” You ask, though you already have an idea. You just want to hear him say it. His lips tighten, and his brows furrow.

“I need… the girlfriend experience,” he admits, speaking so slowly it almost makes you laugh.

“When?” You ask, surprising both him and yourself with how quickly you respond.

“Next week. Monday morning to Tuesday night,” he replies. You cross your arms, tapping your foot. You don’t have anything planned, so you don’t see why not.

“Okay,” you say, and Gyutaro looks taken aback, as if he expected you to decline.

“But,” you continue, “ground rules. One: You get one kiss, make it count. Two: You can touch my waist, shoulders, and hands to sell the closeness, but don’t touch anywhere else. It’s not a dealbreaker unless you cross the obvious

boundaries, but I think we’ll both be more comfortable with those expectations. Three: I’ll come up with a backstory for myself. No details about my real life will be mentioned.” You pause, then add, “Oh, and I’ll get half before, the rest after.” He nods slowly, like he’s bracing for you to change your mind.

"Alright," you say, turning toward your bedroom. "I need to finish getting ready for my date tonight." He doesn’t say anything else but gives a quick nod, hands stuffed in his pockets, and walks away.

The date goes smoothly. The man you’re with is an older gentleman, a regular client who just seeks company after the passing of his wife. He never crosses boundaries, treats you with respect, and always compensates generously. Afterward, you feel calm and at ease when you return home, ready for your next date—the one whose messages have been flooding your phone all night. While the money is always good, the creep factor leaves you grimacing.

A thought occurs to you: this guy might try something while you’re out, but you have the perfect creep repellent next door.

Slipping on a pair of slippers, you head to Gyutaro’s house. No need to knock—he’s sitting outside, scrolling on his phone. He notices you approach and regards you coolly.

“Hey, Gyutaro, I have a proposition for you,” you say, a crooked smile spreading across his face.

“Let me guess,” he begins, “you’re gonna ask me for a favor in exchange for what you’re doing for me?” A smirk tugs at your lips.

“Exactly. I’ve got a date with a guy who seems like a creep.” You pass him your phone, showing him the chat logs. “I don’t think I’ll get out of there without something inappropriate happening. I need you to make sure he doesn’t cross any lines.” You keep it vague, leaving room for plausible deniability.

He scrolls through the messages, his crooked smile twisting into something more sinister as he reads.

“A bit of a creep, huh? This guy’s a complete freak. Have you read all of this? It’s pathetic... and honestly, kind of funny.” He lets out a laugh that sounds like the dying wheeze of a bagpipe, but somehow, it’s almost endearing. He returns your phone and agrees to be your bodyguard for the evening, waving you off as though he’s busy. You take a seat, and despite his apparent indifference, he shifts a bit to create space—though not for you, but to distance himself.

“So, what’s the event we’re going to? You don’t seem like the fancy event type,” you say, resting your arms on your knees.

“I’m not,” he responds. “It’s just a school reunion. Everyone’s betting I can’t get a girlfriend, but what they don’t know is I’ve bet on myself. If they lose, I get the money. I don’t care what they think, but the look on their faces when I show up with YOU on my arm? That’ll be almost better than the money.” He chuckles like he’s already imagining it. You can’t help but find his scheme oddly attractive—taking advantage of a bet to mug off his old classmates while making money.

You wonder how he even found out about the bet, but you know better than to ask. This neighborhood, while nicer than most, is close to some shady areas, and it’s just safer not to pry. You stand, brushing yourself off.

“Alright, I’ll start my prep. I’ll send you the details in a few days,” you say, waving as you walk away. The cold night air sends goosebumps down your arms and legs. Gyutaro gives you a half-wave and returns to his phone.

The next few days pass as expected, and you eventually send him the materials. But as tonight approaches, the nerves begin to build. By the time you’re about to leave, the anxiety is overwhelming.

When you open the door, you’re startled to see Gyutaro standing there, ready for his part of the deal. In your nervousness, you’d completely forgotten about it.

“Oh, hey, Gyutaro… Sorry, I totally forgot you were coming tonight,” you say. He shrugs, unfazed.

He’s dressed in a leather jacket that clings to his arms and baggy jeans, an outfit that will definitely stand out at the venue. You frown, eyeing his attire. “I don’t think they’ll let you in looking like that.”

“You’re going to The Spider Lily, right?” He asks, scanning the area as though watching for your date.

“Yeah? Do you need the address?” You offer.

He shakes his head. “I’ll be fine,” he says, gesturing to his bike as though offering a ride.

“No thanks. I’ve always wanted to ride a motorbike, but maybe not tonight,” you say, surprising yourself. You realize you’re hinting at wanting another opportunity, but Gyutaro doesn’t respond—he just shrugs. Is that all he does?

Shaking off the nerves, your taxi arrives, and you hurry to climb in. You always take precautions when going on dates like this—taxis for safety, fake names, and sometimes even wigs. With a quick exchange, you’re on your way.

The Spider Lily’s soft lighting casts a golden glow as you step inside, greeted by the warm murmur of conversation and the quiet clinking of silverware. Your date, Greg, or maybe Grant (you honestly hadn’t bothered to commit it to memory), waits at a table near the window. His broad grin spreads as you approach, and he stands, offering a handshake.

“You look amazing,” he says, eyes scanning you appreciatively.

You force a polite smile. “Thanks. You ready?”

The small talk begins as you settle in, his parents already seated and smiling warmly. You offer a polite introduction, your voice practiced and smooth, as if you truly belonged in this moment. The older couple is sweet, kind, and genuinely interested in their son’s "girlfriend." It almost makes you feel bad about the whole act. Almost.

What Greg doesn’t know is that you’re not entirely alone. Out of sight, in a dim corner booth, Gyutaro sits nursing a drink and keeping his sharp eyes trained on you. You hadn’t wanted to take any risks with this date after Greg’s increasingly suggestive messages. Having Gyutaro nearby, even without his direct involvement, was a comfort.

The evening progresses smoothly enough at first. Greg’s parents ask about your “relationship,” and you spin the story you’d memorized from his messages, keeping your tone sweet and sincere. Greg, however, starts to push boundaries. His hand brushes against yours unnecessarily, lingers on your arm for too long, and eventually finds its way to your knee under the table.

You shift uncomfortably, gently moving his hand away without making a scene. His parents don’t seem to notice, engaged in a lively discussion about their recent vacation. Gyutaro notices, though. From his corner, his piercing blue eyes narrow as his grip on his glass tightens.

The next time Greg leans close, his breath warm against your ear, your stomach twists in discomfort. “You’re doing great,” he murmurs, his hand creeping back to your knee. “Really selling it.”

“Greg,” you say through clenched teeth, plastering on a polite smile as you turn your head slightly to whisper, “Boundaries.”

He chuckles softly, ignoring your protest. “Relax. It’s just for show.”

Gyutaro’s eyes never leave the table. His posture is deceptively casual, but the tension in his jaw betrays his growing agitation. He leans forward slightly when Greg’s arm slides around the back of your chair, pulling you closer despite your attempt to subtly shift away.

Then Greg does the unthinkable. He tilts your chin toward him, a self-satisfied grin on his face, and leans in for a kiss.

You freeze, panic flashing through your mind. But before Greg’s lips can meet yours, a hand clamps down on his shoulder, yanking him back with such force that his chair scrapes loudly against the floor.

“Hey!” Greg yelps, twisting around to face his assailant. The moment his eyes meet Gyutaro’s icy glare, he goes pale. “Who the hell are you?”

“The guy who’s about to make sure you never pull this crap again,” Gyutaro growls, his voice low and dangerous. He grips Greg’s collar, dragging him halfway out of his chair.

“Let go of me!” Greg sputters, struggling to break free. The commotion draws attention from the other patrons, and his parents look on in stunned confusion.

“What is going on here?” his mother demands, her voice trembling.

Gyutaro doesn’t answer. His focus is entirely on Greg, his knuckles white against the fabric of his shirt. “You think you can just grab her like that? Like she’s some damn prize you paid for? You’re lucky I don’t break your hands.”

Greg’s father stands, attempting to intervene. “Young man, unhand my son—”

Greg takes a swing at Gyutaro, but he catches the fist midair with ease, twisting it just enough to make Greg yelp in pain. Before things can escalate further, a tall, muscular man with fiery red hair steps in. The nametag on his chest reads Akaza.

“That’s enough,” Akaza says firmly, prying Gyutaro away from Greg with surprising strength. “Take it outside.”

“He started it!” Greg shouts, clutching his wrist as he glares at Gyutaro.

Gyutaro sneers, shaking off Akaza’s grip. “You’re a creep, and you deserve worse.”

Akaza’s expression darkens, his eyes narrowing at Greg. “Is that true?” he asks quietly, his tone laced with menace. When Greg stammers and avoids his gaze, Akaza turns back to Gyutaro. “I’ll deal with him. Get your friend and go.”

Gyutaro doesn’t need to be told twice. He steps back, his gaze lingering on Greg with barely restrained fury, before turning to you. “Let’s go.”

You follow him out of the restaurant, murmuring apologies to Greg’s parents as you pass. The cool night air greets you, and you wrap your arms around yourself, trying to shake off the lingering tension.

“Thanks,” you say softly, glancing up at Gyutaro. “For stepping in.”

He scoffs, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Yeah, well, the guy’s lucky I didn’t do worse.”

A small smile tugs at your lips despite everything. “I mean it. You didn’t have to, but… I’m glad you were there.”

He grunts in response, his sharp features softening just slightly as his eyes meet yours. The walk back to your houses is quiet but not awkward, and when you reach your door, you hesitate.

“You’re not as scary as you like to pretend,” you say teasingly, earning a snort from him.

“Don’t get used to it,” he mutters, his lips twitching into the barest hint of a smirk.

“Goodnight, Gyutaro.”

“Night.”

As you step inside, you can’t help but feel a strange sense of comfort knowing he was there for you.

The days leading up to the reunion are a whirlwind. You and Gyutaro practice your cover story, ironing out the details. He’s oddly meticulous about it, insisting on rehearsing the smallest interactions. Despite his gruff exterior, he’s surprisingly thoughtful, pointing out ways to sell the illusion—subtle touches, inside jokes, and shared glances.

When the big day arrives, you feel oddly nervous. You’ve been on countless dates, charmed dozens of strangers, but this feels different. You’re representing Gyutaro, stepping into his world, and a part of you doesn’t want to let him down.

You stand in front of your bathroom mirror, staring at your reflection. The dress Gyutaro had recommended—dark blue, form-fitting, but with a modest neckline—accentuates your curves without showing too much. Your hair, done in loose waves, falls just right, and your makeup is perfect, emphasizing the right features while keeping everything understated. You’ve put in the effort to look as beautiful as possible—he’ll need to be impressed for this plan to work.

When you open the door, you’re startled by the sight of Gyutaro already standing there, leaning against the doorframe. He’s dressed in a casual black leather jacket, a t-shirt underneath that hugs his lean but muscular frame, and a pair of ripped jeans that only add to his rugged vibe. His hair, normally pulled back, is left loose tonight, the green fading into black and curling around his face in an almost charmingly unkempt way. He stands like he doesn’t care about anything, but the way his piercing blue eyes scan you up and down tells a different story.

His gaze locks onto you, and for a moment, neither of you says anything. The silence stretches, an unspoken tension building between you. You’re not sure if it’s because of the deal you’ve made or something else entirely. You’ve never been this close to him before, especially not in this context.

“Well, you clean up well,” he finally mutters, voice low and gruff, like he’s trying to hide any sort of admiration.

You give him a small smirk. “I do try.”

He steps aside, motioning toward the outside. “We should get going. The reunion won’t wait.”

You can’t help but chuckle at the way he phrases it like he’s about to take part in some grand heist. Despite the oddness of the situation, you feel a spark of excitement. The ride over to the venue is quiet, but not uncomfortable. The tension between you both is palpable, even if neither of you acknowledges it outright. Every now and then, his gaze flicks to you, only to quickly look away when you catch him in the act.

When you arrive at the venue, an upscale, private hall with a dimly lit atmosphere, you’re greeted by the buzz of old classmates catching up. Gyutaro’s hand briefly brushes against yours, and the touch lingers for just a fraction of a second longer than necessary.

You follow him through the door, and immediately, you’re surrounded by the awkward chatter of former classmates. A few of them are immediately surprised by Gyutaro’s presence, as if they didn’t expect him to show up with someone—especially not with someone as stunning as you.

As you walk deeper into the crowd, Gyutaro's posture shifts, and it’s clear he’s enjoying the attention, if only for the sake of proving his point. A few people stare at the two of you, whispering behind their hands, clearly confused by the sight of the once-ostracized Gyutaro with a beautiful woman on his arm. You almost feel bad for them as you walk past, the whispers and side-eye glances following you both.

“You can feel the eyes on us, huh?” Gyutaro murmurs, almost like he’s savoring it. He leans in slightly, his breath warm against your ear. “Good. Let them stew.”

You look up at him, a wry smile on your face. “I don’t think they expected you to show up with someone like me.”

He looks back at you, his eyes narrowing slightly, but there’s something deeper in his gaze—almost a quiet pride. “They’ll learn to keep their mouths shut.” His lips twitch into something resembling a smile, though it’s still sharp, almost dangerous.

The night continues, and Gyutaro sticks by your side, casually introducing you to a few of his former classmates—though not much is said, aside from polite pleasantries. You’re pretty sure he’s enjoying the discomfort he’s causing by simply existing in their space.

By the time dessert rolls around, you’ve managed to dodge most of the awkward questions, but one thing becomes painfully clear: the more you spend time with Gyutaro, the more the attraction between you both grows. It’s not just about the way he’s made them eat their words or how he looks tonight; it’s something about him that you can’t quite shake. The more he gets under your skin, the more you start to notice the way his lips curl when he smiles, how his scent clings to the air, how his presence makes everything feel just a little bit more electric.

It’s near the end of the evening when it happens.

You and Gyutaro step out onto the balcony to escape the noise inside. The cool night air hits you both, and the moment feels oddly intimate. His posture is more relaxed now, his earlier edge gone as he leans against the railing. You stand next to him, the stars above casting a soft glow over the scene.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” you say, suddenly aware of how close you’re standing to him. “All the show, all the pretending. You didn’t have to prove anything.”

He glances at you, his expression unreadable. “Maybe I did. Maybe I just wanted to show them I’m not the loser they thought I was.” He lets out a breath, looking down at the ground before meeting your eyes again. “Maybe I wanted to show you something, too.”

You swallow hard, the tension rising between you both. The night is suddenly heavy, full of unspoken words and desires neither of you had voiced yet. You take a step closer, the distance between you narrowing until there’s no space left. His eyes flicker down to your lips before rising back to your eyes, the look in them unmistakable.

Before you can stop yourself, you reach up, fingers lightly grazing his jaw. It’s a soft touch, but it sends a shiver through you. He reacts instantly, his hand moving to cup your cheek as his other arm slips around your waist, pulling you toward him.

Then, he kisses you.

It’s not gentle or slow. It’s fierce, raw, like he’s been holding back something for far too long. His lips move against yours with a sense of urgency, as if he’s not sure how much longer he can keep this restraint in place. You kiss him back, feeling the heat of his body press against yours, the warmth of his breath mixing with your own.

Time seems to slow, the world narrowing to just the two of you. His hand slides down to your lower back, pulling you even closer, and you can feel the strength in him—the lean muscle that had been hidden under his jacket. You respond in kind, your hands moving to his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart under your fingertips.

The kiss deepens, and suddenly, everything else fades away. There are no classmates judging, no ridiculous bets to win, just the overwhelming feeling of his lips against yours, of his body pressing closer and closer, as if he’s trying to fuse himself with you.

When you finally pull away, breathless and flushed, your heart pounds in your chest. His eyes are dark with desire, but there’s something more—something tender that wasn’t there before.

“You make me lose control,” he mutters, voice low and raspy, almost like he’s admitting a secret.

You’re about to reply when he takes your hand and leads you back inside, but not before he casts one last glance toward the other patrons. His classmates are still inside, oblivious to what just happened. Gyutaro doesn’t care, though—he’s got something else on his mind now.

[dudelymantits]

Tell us more about your Adler/Star pairing please 👀✨

Sure! Thank you for asking! As usual this ended up longer than intended oops

So originally a few months back a friend mentioned how there should be more Signalis rare pairs and one of the ones she ended up mentioning was Star/Adler. For some reason this one stuck with me and kinda marinated in the back of my mind until I started to flesh them out more.

They both are stationed at my totally normal radio outpost B-92 Becquerel, because of Becquerel’s smaller size this station’s work hierarchy is set up differently than S-23 going like:

KNCR-B9201: this Kranich is the main head of the facility, she takes the place of a Falke unit and has a lot of other things going on that are not really relevant to this post besides the fact she is eternally tired because of them and therefore dismissive of certain issues that she shouldn’t be.

The three “heads”: these guys oversee the three main sektors of the facility with each being, Radio/military, Research, and Civilian/other. That last category is run by our Adler!

ADLR-B9201 or Grey is a newer unit being commissioned after the death of the previous Civilian overseer gestalt, Grey handles most of our usual expected Adler paperwork and bureaucratic duites, but he thinks due to the other two guys being “lackluster” in their own ways Adler often finds himself having to pick up whatever technical work they “didn’t end up doing in time”. Grey wants to run the place nice and organized, but his gestalt coworkers and boss seemingly having better things to worry about they don’t care he has a larger workload than everyone else. He stresses over performance and often wishes he worked as a normal Adler unit with a more clean cut ladder, but here? To many variables and people he has to get along with.

Thing is that it’s partially his own fault, he wants everything ahead of schedule and obviously that’s not happening, and if he would just work at a more normal even pace and communicate with the rest of his coworkers a large number of his problems with his work environment would be fixed, or at least lessened. Basically he’s the last guy you’d want to work with, very controlling and wanting to completely change the place he works at rather than adapting to what already had worked there before.

This bleed into his personality making him just a ass to be around, “pissy little bitch” was what I called him for months, he was whiny and short tempered especially when things didn’t go his way. And this is where Star comes in.

STAR-B920?: Eloka is a pretty average star, higher ranking than most but not to the point I’d call her high ranking yk? Above average…! Eloka also likes to push buttons and see exactly what she can get away with. This is partly why she’s in the middle of B-92’s Star ranks, she’s pissed off the ones above her so much they wouldn’t dare promote her more than they already have but also they recognize she’s more skilled than the newbie’s and weaker stars. She doesn’t care for hierarchy like most Starlings, and therefore finds it entertaining to break their rules.

Eloka has a record for getting herself in a mess, with other Star, with other Protektors, with relationships, hell she probably has gotten stuck in the Ara vents or on the rooftop a few times. She’s pretty silly. So when the new Adler got stationed and she heard about his poor temper you know exactly what she started doing, fucking with him!

Pretty quickly this turned into a game of “how quickly can I get Grey mad today?” Typically with insults. She also gave him the nickname Grey rather than referring to him as Adler, which he saw as a disrespect of his authority, she gave it to give him because of his atypical grey chest plate. Now you may be thinking, if she’s causing so much trouble for a higher up wouldn’t she be decommissioned? Well this is where it goes back to the other two heads, basically they would all have to agree to the decommissioning of a Protektor and Kranich would then order it. So even if he wanted to and probably threatened to at first they both knew that was an empty threat. It wasn’t constant picking but slowly became more consistent.

At first they really hated each other due to this strange routine they developed for obvious reasons, but slowly Grey started to grow more used to it and became less explosive in his reactions and he actually started to like her interpretations, and she started to also get used to this pattern. The pranks got lighter and rather than her fucking with his office she’d rearrange the files in a less disastrous way, tripping him lightly, ruffing his hair etc. He still found these mildly annoying but when they didn’t happen their days didn’t feel complete.

Both were oblivious to their growing affection but started to be with each other more and more, Eloka finding reasons to be in his office and Adler finding reasons to be less of a dick and controlling because he actually had something else in his life now to focus on and was kinda forced to chill out. She also started to find his grey chest plate cute. and a small bet was started by the stars and eules on who would ask the other out first, some units put their bet on Eloka because she had a history of girlfriends before and was usually the one to ask them first, where others argued that because she usually was so blunt with women why hadn’t she done so with him yet?

I’m not sure who wins the bet yet, but I do have it that Eloka was flirty with Grey from the start originally for fun but later actually meaning it sometimes [he still is bad at picking out when it’s serious or not] he also started to return the small pranks and insults back now, and the flirting that came with that. After they actually get together I imagine it would remain mostly the same as before, but with them now exploring their new relationship.

I also feel like Eloka would talk to him about guns a lot, and him talking about his stress at work. I have a scene in my head of her just in his office talking to him while kicking her feet like a teen girl lol. This could lead to him getting more into weapons, but I also like the idea of him getting into computers as well. He’s still a workaholic but not as much of an ass so improvement for sure.

Other thing to note: I don’t think Adler’s need a Falke specifically to function, I think they need structure. The reason it’s painted as them needing a Falke is national propaganda. Adler’s I feel work very well with clear hierarchy which is why I made grey specificly hate the one he’s in. Also why you shouldn’t have multiple Adler’s in one place most of the time, they don’t work well in teams. Even for Adler’s like S-23 we see him have issues with the Kolibri’s in his notes, who I see as being on equal footing to Adler but handling different parts of the facility than him. Adler’s also don’t strike me as leaders, they are helpers and need someone or something to follow, and for a country like the nation why not make sure he follows your literal man made goddess? Someone made to embodied your ideals?

Oh yea no Falke at this station lol

If you read all this text ily

[sanasanakun]

Jimithon Mouthwashing is such a good representation of untreated, enabled NPD like it makes me want to squeeze the life out of him. I'm endlessly fascinated when watching him interact with his crew, surroundings, and himself because he's so fucking lost in his own sauce. It's insane. If I'm being real, it makes him my favorite character in the game.

It's a little scary to say, but watching Jimmy is like seeing a mirrored version of myself two years ago before I truly committed to treatment for my NPD. He's like a shadow. The opening line "I hope this hurts," which I believe comes from Jimmy right before the crash, is such a poignant statement. It's a simple line, but I can tell you from experience that the desire to hurt others when in a narcissistic rage is overwhelming. It's such a good line to sum up Jimmy's character in that moment. Luckily, in the real world, I had my friends and family there to catch me when I hit my lowest, even though I'd hurt them so many times. Jimmy probably could've used friends to force him into therapy (cough cough Curly cough cough)

[chikahoshi]

I commissioned @tikklil from Twitter/Instagram again to draw 42 Miles/42 Gwen based off @bloody-writing's fic Tonight You Belong To Me. This fic is the reason why I ship them so hard, so I think it's only fitting that I commission fanart inspired by this fic as a thank you. Hopefully, I can do some more commissions based on this fic because there are scenes that I really think is worth seeing illustrated. So fingers crossed. (As a disclaimer, I did get permission to post the commission here.)