#n same w 19 n 20

[killa-trav]

christian horner saying lewis can't say the rb car is the most dominant car n he has a selective memory is acc so fucking laughable

[purinfelix]

lost and found ✮⋆˙ - franco colapinto

pairing: reader x franco colapinto summary: when you find a curly-haired rookie lost in the wrong garage, you don't think much of it - that is, until he continues showing up, and you begin questioning his intentions w/c: 1.3k (wow jet writing an actual long-ish fic? you better believe it)

a/n: FIRST FRANCO FIC !!!! i've literally been having franco brainrot ever since azerbaijan so here you go (this is your sign to send in franco requests <3)

You spot him out of the corner of your eye nervously ducking out of the way of engineers and strategists, as you prepare for the race ahead. Considering that this is the Red Bull garage, his bright white fireproof sticks out like a sore thumb and when you turn to look at him, his own eyes widen in embarrassment - confirming your theory that he's lost. He's that newbie you've been hearing about, frank? or something, you don't really care to be honest, but he's in the wrong garage and even though he's not one of your drivers you're sure Williams is worried about where he is.

"Are you alright?" you say, and he stops his frantic looking around to look at you with flushed cheeks.

"Yeah, I'm-"

"In the wrong garage," you say flatly, trying your best to stay serious and hide how amused you are at this.

"Yes, I got that, I just can't figure out how to get back to mine," he laughs in a slightly offended tone.

You nod, feigning annoyance as you silently walk ahead and hope he knows to follow you. "Look kid, I don't know if this is your first time on a paddock but you can't really be wandering around other team's garages, even if you are lost. It kind of looks like you're spying on us or something and feeding information back to whoever you've reserve driving for."

His footsteps pause behind you. "Who are you calling Kid?" he scoffs, equal parts irritated and entertained.

"Huh? Well, how old are you? You don't look older than 19."

"I'm 21, thank you very much," he spits out, crossing his arms with a smug look, "and how old are you?"

You pause, awkwardly looking around, "20, but it's clear I have a lot more experience in this than you do." You huff and spin back around, trying to ignore the fact you can hear him stifling laughter.

As you finally make it back to the Williams garage, you open the door and let him in through it, but before he does he pauses to turn you.

"Thank you-" he says, pausing for you to give him your name, and even though you're reluctant to give him the opportunity to spread the news about this embarrassing encounter, you do anyways. Something about the way he looks at you, eyes expecting and a smile toying at his lips, you feel strangely like you'd do about anything he asked.

"And you are?"

"Franco," he says, with an earnest smile, almost as if he's enjoying this situation more knowing how awkward you feel. "I'd wish you good luck, but I doubt you guys will need it," is the last thing he says before he disappears back into his own garage.

And even though you feel a little flustered about the entire situation, you shake it off and head back to your own area, determined not to let it get the best of you - not now, not before a race. You don't even think of him again, besides an occasional glance up when you hear his name said by a commentator, or when you spot his car coming into the pit lane, but that's nothing outside the realm of your duties as a mechanic. You really couldn't care less about him, you tell yourself, and you feel as though you'd be perfectly fine never crossing paths with him again.

But he doesn't seem to share the same idea, because the minute the race is over and you're turning to join the rest of the team out near the podium, you spot him lingering near the door of your garage once more.

"Lost again?" you say as you walk up to him, trying your best to keep as straight a face as you can.

"Not anymore," he replies once he sees you, a reassured smile on his face, "did you see how I did?"

Two feelings wash through you simultaneously - one rational, one asking who the hell this guy is and why the hell he thinks you'd be watching him instead of the very team you work for, and the other a sense of embarrassment, because as much as it pained you to admit, you had been watching him.

"8th?" is all you say in response - not wanting to give too much away about how you felt.

"Yeah, my first points!"

"Well, it's hardly a podium," you scoff, eager not to inflate his ego - after all, he was older than you and surely didn't need to be treated like a preschooler with gold stars. But the minute the words leave your mouth, you watch his excited expression change until slowly he dons a look of embarrassment. Your heart twists and you're suddenly reminded that for whatever reason, instead of celebrating with his team, his family, the girlfriend - which you were sure he had - he had come here, to tell you - someone he had met for the first time mere hours ago.

"Sorry, that was rude, congra-" you begin.

"Is that a challenge?" His voice is low, and it hits you unexpectedly.

"Pardon?"

"Are you challenging me, to get a podium? I mean, I'm still a rookie but I guess if I had a good enough motivator I could do it."

You're caught in a dilemma again, why on earth would you be motivating a different team's driver to do well? If anything, you should be doing the opposite, you had the opportunity to do something for the sake of your team right in front of you - albeit something definitely against FIA ruling - but for some strange reason you couldn't bring yourself to take it, instead playing into his game further.

"And what kind of motivator are we talking about here Franco," you pause to watch him smirk at the sound of his own name, "if you're after secret team intel I can't help you there but if you want, let's say, to know where to get the best coffee on paddock or-"

"How about your number?"

"Wh- Huh?"

"Your number? How about if I get a podium, you give me your number."

He says it so plainly as if it's a simple conclusion, and yet you're speechless. As you stand there silently taking in what he's just said you're equally aware of the fact that he's watching you, which only makes you more flustered.

"What for?" is all you manage to get out, and even though you know it's a stupid question, you want to be sure.

"Oh c'mon, you're a mechanic, surely you can't be that clueless."

"Right," you nod, looking down at your feet shyly and after a moment of silence his concerned voice pipes up again.

"I mean, I know we basically just met, and I know how ridiculous this is, so if you really don't want to I'm not going to force you into anything. You see, I'm really not that kind of guy, I'm actually really a gentleman and usually I'd-"

"Alright," you say definitively, cutting off his nervous rambling - which, if you're being honest, you can only just hear over the pounding sound of your own heart.

"Wh- really?" he asks in disbelief, even though he's the one who proposed the bet.

"Sure, if you can get a podium before the end of this race season, I'll give you my number."

Just at that moment, you hear the rest of your team filing back into the garage to pack up, as well as the distant sound of someone calling for Franco. You look up, partially to silently tell him that the two of you needed to be wrapping up soon, but mostly to watch his face turn from shock to a proud smile as he nods eagerly.

"Okay, yes, sure!" he says sort of breathlessly, "well I guess I'll see you around then. Same time next week?"

You let out a low laugh at his joke, "Sure see you then, and good luck." You watch him turn to jog out of your garage, and as he turns the corner you can still see a beaming smile on his face as he goes - leaving you with the weight of realising just what the hell you've gotten yourself into.

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

It's a Match! || poly!141 x Reader

[Chapter 18] || [Chapter 20]

Rating: E Pairing: Soap x Reader || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.2K~ cw: SMUT, SMUT, SMUT. handjobs/fingering (unspecified). ejaculation (mentioned). Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: smut. smut. sweet. sweet. smut..

Chapter 19: Slippery Slope.

“Fuck… Johnny…” You whine as his hand slowly strokes up and down, his fingers rubbing over every inch of your skin.

“Shh… The acoustics, bonnie…” He tells you. “The neigbours are goin’ t’ear ye.” He whispers.

“W-Well…!” You try to complain but the words die in your lips as your head dips back against his chest.

Your bathtub isn’t the biggest, but you and Johnny were able to fit yourselves inside, with him sitting behind you, spooning you. His thick, muscular arms are wrapped around you the same way they were at the shop a week ago, protective, warmth… strong.

He’s been surprisingly gentle this whole time, washing your body and helping get your back, his rough hands sometimes sliding and coping a feel of your skin as it was lathered up with soap.

Somehow that evolved into his hand being between your thighs, making you moan and squirm in his embrace. “Shh…” He keeps shushing you as if he’s not doing anything that should warrant them.

“Stop shushing me, Johnny…” You whine. “You’re so frustrating!” You grumble.

“Don’t be giving me lip now, bonnie…” He whispers as he bites your earlobe and then draws his lips down the side of your neck and onto your shoulder.

“F-Fuck…” You shiver as he sucks onto the skin right where you neck meets your collarbone, his tongue lapping at the skin as his fingers work you over.

The water’s getting cold, and your legs are the first feeling the change in temperature, propped up on the edges of the tub so he can keep touching you, while his own are barely contained inside.

But you don’t care. The pleasure he’s wringing out of you with surprisingly nimble fingers considering how thick and big they are makes you whine and moan, your sounds of pleasure echoing off the tile in the bathroom.

The knot in your stomach is getting tighter and tighter with each second he spends playing with you, your legs trembling and your whole body twitching and squirming in his embrace as you chase your orgasm.

And when it finally crashes onto you, you jump a bit, almost headbutting Johnny in the process, your head falling back on his strong, hard shoulder, some water spilling over the edge of the bath.

His name falls from your lips as your eyes flutter closed and your panting becomes the only thing heard in your bathroom. He grunts behind you, clearly enjoying the sight of you coming undone, his face resting against your shoulder as he sighs against your back.

Once you’ve finally caught you breath, he kisses your shoulder. “That feel good?” He coos in your ear and carefully licks up a stripe from your neck to your jawline before peppering kisses around your jawline.

You nod at him, eyes still closed and sigh happily, snuggling into his warm, robus embrace. “I’ll take that as a ‘Yes’.” He murmurs with a chuckle.

“Let’s get you cleaned up and dressed, the water’s getting cold.” He tells you as he moves up and presses a kiss to your temple.

That stirs you a bit from the moment and you look up at him. “But… You didn’t get anything…” You whisper.

“Oh, mo leannan…” He says with a playful smirk on his lips. “I literally just shot come all over your back.” He admits, causing your eyes to widen.

“You…” You say with shock and he immediately laughs at the look on your face. 

“Oh yeah. Why’d you think I said ‘let’s get you cleaned up and dressed’ and not just… ‘let’s get you dressed’?” He teases.

-

After the bath, he helps you both get dressed and takes you back to the living room, snuggling up with you on the couch, wrapping the blanket around you both. 

Unlike with Kyle, who laid under you and let you rest between his legs against your chest - or Simon who you makes you sleep on his chest, with one arm around you - Johnny prefers to spoon you, the two of you fitting just so on the couch before one of you (aka you) are teetering on the edge.

He gives you one of his biceps to rest on, while his other arm wraps around your waist and stomach, his hand resting right on top of your sternum and carefully rubbing your chest. It’s not necessarily a dirty touch, but not an innocent one either.

You find yourselves dozing off, wrapped up in one another, the TV playing some silly action movie which, despite the loud explosions and gunshots, is surprisingly easy to tune out and sleep through.

It’s already dark outside when you stir awake. Johnny’s sleeping right behind you, his breath slow and even, his warm exhales tickling the back of your neck. The sitting room is completely dark, the TV playing some other movie now, lighting everything in a blue-ish light.

Atop the coffee table is a phone, vibrating and buzzing, the screen lit up with a phone call. Still groggy, you grab the phone, assuming it’s your own, and flick the green button to accept the call without looking at the number.

“Uhm, hello?” You greet before you force yourself to suppress a yawn.

“BLOODY FUCKIN’ HELL, I’VE BEEN CALLIN’ FOR AN HOUR!” A gruff, manly voice shouts on the other end. “WHERE ARE YOU?”

The shouts stirred you a bit more awake and made you stiffen. “Excuse me?!” You complain.

“Wait. Who’s this?” A gruff voice asks on the other end.

“I should be asking you, you’re the one calling me and losing your bloody mind shoutin’ at me?” You murmur in confusion, keeping your voice low to not wake up Johnny.

“And I’m asking you, because I know bloody well I called MacTavish and not… whoever you are.” The man you’re speaking with is rude, but his voice is… vaguely familiar.

That’s when your brain fog clears enough to allow you to realize that you just picked up Johnny’s phone, not your own.

“Oh, shite.” You grumble. “Sorry. I heard a phone ringing, I thought it was my phone-” You try to justify yourself.

“Oh, bloody hell, I’m sorry for yellin’ at you.” The man on the other end ends up saying, a bit more politely. “MacTavish’s with you?” He grumbles

“Yeah… He’s asleep…” You reply. “The phone was on Vibration.” You explain. “That’s probably why he didn’t wake up…” You explain.

“No wonder… I’ve called 42 times…” The male voice complains on the other end. “You mind waking him up and putting my damn soldier on the line?” He fails at his attempts at politeness.

And that’s when your brain fog clears even more. ‘My soldier’... The only person who’d call Johnny ‘his’ soldier is his captain.

“John?” You ask him in earnest. The memories of the night you spent with John come flooding back. Not that you ever forgot it, but you’ve been a bit more preocupied.

And that’s when John Price realizes who he’s speaking to as well, likely also remembering the way the dulcet of your voice called out his name while he buried himself inside of you. “Bloody fuckin’ hell…” He murmurs. 

After a brief pause to breathe, he speaks again. “Hi, darling.” He ends up saying.

“Hi, John.” You say softly in return.

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

taglist (CLOSED! not adding anyone else, sorry!):

@daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes , @irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @infpt-zylith , @xxshadowbabexx , @frescoisnotinthemilitary , @leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark

@severenswife , @enarien, @agoodmoviekiss , @l0lziez , @whos-fran , @greatstormcat , @openup-yourmind , @neoarchipelago , @sodavrr , @cutiecusp , @lilliumrorum , @c-nstantine , @kneelforloki , @comeonatmebruh , @codsunshine , @waiting-so-long , @captainquake42 , @gazspookiebear , @mynameismisty , @reap3erslov3 , @reaper-chan666 , @poohkie90 , @kitwithnokat , @stick-the-dumbass , @mothsdrabbles , @justanerd1 , @thesinsoflust , @thriving-n-jiving , @blckbrrybasket

[clockmax]

﹒𝐗-𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 | 𝐓𝐀𝐏𝐄 𝟏﹒

← previous | next → | ﹗𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭﹗

pairing: dilf!Miguel O'hara x babysitter!fem!reader

Summary: In a AU where his marriage doesn't work anymore, he spends time away from his house. In turn, his 'wife' hired you to keep watch over Gabriella. But soon, a infatuation bloomed between someone who you couldn't have.

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI. infidelity, mentions of divorce, age gap(19-31), drinking, no use of y/n, oral(f receiving), p in v, mating press, praising, slight breeding kink if you squint, not proofread uhh thats it i think

w/c: 3k

You stood outside in the cold night, the sounds of crickets and other sorts of bugs in the night kept you from silence. It was cold, body shivering as you held your jacket close. Your breath was visible, the cold nipping at whatever skin was left exposed. Your body was flushed from the drop in temperature, winters air cruel. You were absolutely freezing. Yet you stood outside, watching as Miguel counted a stack of 10 dollar bills.

“40.. 50… 60..” The man mumbled, fingers sorting through the cash, “ 70.. 80, there.” 

His hands moved to your own, placing the cash in your shaking hands. Fingers find themselves delicately sorting through the cash, double counting. Miguel Looked down at you, watching as you re-counted the cash.

“That’s the agree amount, right?” He tilted his head, cocking an eyebrow.

“Yes-” *You nod, putting the cash inside your purse.

“Then that’s your pay, I hope Gabriella wasn’t too much trouble.” He gave himself a small chuckle, putting his wallet away.

“It was nothing, really, she isn’t any trouble at all, sir.” For some reason you just couldn’t take your eyes off him, watching his every movement. You felt your body almost become warm against the weather, heart beating faster than it was before. Christ, you couldn’t get more embarrassed on the inside about it though. A crush on your boss’ husband? Really? Even your friends poked at you for that.

“There’s no need to be modest, I know she can be a handful. Kids got so much energy that she doesn’t know what to do with.” 

His hands shuffled back in his wallet again, pulling out another 20, “There’s an extra 20, ‘cause I know,” Handing you the bill, giving a small playful wink.

His eyes happen to wander your body, looking at how you shivered and tugged your jacket closer, freezing hand putting the 20 with the rest of the cash. There was a slight twinge of guilt for having you outside when it was this cold. Muttering something to himself in spanish before he headed for his front door, turning back to you.

“Would you like to come in? I don’t want to leave you in the cold.” The offer felt a little weird, out of place for him. I mean he wasn’t your boss, his ‘wife’ if you could call her that was. But hey, practically the same thing, right?

“Are you sure?” You asked, looking up at him. The offer was still a little strange.

You two didn’t really talk much besides work and a few personal questions, but those were usually 2 minute conversations before you were on your way. Still, none of that stopped your eyes from looking at Miguel whenever you had the chance. It was a stupid crush, really. He was a married man with a daughter, plus he was older than you by a long shot. 

“It’s no worries, I’d rather have someone to talk to while I drink much rather than drinking alone.” Miguel opened the door, holding it as you entered inside.

“Thank you.” You nodded, taking off your coat.

You tried your best not to let your emotions get the best of you. All he needed was someone to talk to, nothing more. Yet your mind couldn’t help but wander with thoughts that, even if you were being interrogated, would never say out loud. 

You settled yourself in on a nearby chair, watching as Miguel walked over to the liquor cabinet, pulling out a bottle of whatever he was drinking, you couldn’t read the bottle, not from a totally different room. Soon enough he walked over to the couch, sitting down with his glass. 

“Will your wife get mad that I’m still here?” You asked, still a little hesitant. 

“Don’t worry about her, she’ll be gone for a long time,” His hands held his glass, taking a sip from it before setting it down, swallowing the liquid, “That’s how it’s been since she met her yoga instructor.”

You tilted your head, confused at the situation. You knew from what you were told that there was a rough patch in their marriage, but didn’t expect to be greeted with cheating.

“Aren’t you mad?” Mumbling a little, still hearable though. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.” You quickly ducked your head, looking down in embarrassment for asking such a question.

Miguel let out a sigh, taking another swig of his drink.

“No, I’m not mad. Our marriage isn’t what it was, so we don’t really care about who sees who.” Taking another drink of the alcohol, the liquid running down his throat.

You moved your head back up to look at him,mind running wild with that. I mean, if they don’t care who sees who, you could make your move? But still, weird. He’s technically your boss, and still married, and with a kid. You’re just the babysitter, someone trying to make money for college. 

“Nevermind. What about you, how is college coming along?” He asked, trying to change the subject from that of his now broken marriage.

“Rough, barely making enough with as many jobs as I have to pay tuition.” Leaning back in your chair, hands balling up in your lap.

“Hope every penny is worth it. Everyone where you’re at is probably struggling too, don’t get in a fuss over it.” Miguel's eyes looking over your frame once again.. Eyes looking at your thighs for maybe a moment too long before looking back up at your face.

“I know I know, but some people are just so care free, able to go to parties while I’m wondering if I’m gonna be able to stay at college.” You whined, upset about the financial situation  you were in.

“Some people are just better at hiding it then others. I struggled in college, even being financially stable now, I was in student debt too,” Miguel sighed, “Look the message is a struggle always has a solution… 7 years of fatherhood and I still can’t give any good dad advice, if you can call it that.”

Miguel found himself getting another sip of his drink, getting up to get another glass full.

“You should relax though, don’t stress too much. Never does any good.” He’d tell you from the kitchen, refilling his glass.

“I’m just worried I’ll never get anything done if I don’t hyperfocus, forget what I need to do because I get too caught up with free time.” Your thoughts were racing, your worries about your current life situation flooding out of your mouth. 

“No no, get what you need done too. Just don’t let it take over your down time. You’re young still, a whole life ahead of you.” Walking back to the couch, taking a seat again as he took yet another drink, “You got a boyfriend?” He asked, nonchalantly, no hesitation.

“No,” You mumbled, a little embarrassed. 

“No?” Miguel Repeated, “I’m surprised.” “Why?” You turned your head, a puzzle expression painting your face.

“Cause you’re a young, pretty girl on campus, and no varsity jacket has come to take you away?” It sounded almost as if he was joking, teasing you for it. But he meant no harm.

“No, not yet. They already have themselves a girlfriend or something.” You sigh, sinking back into your chair. 

“Yea times have changed, but, there’s probably a guy out there waiting to say the right things to you.”

How you hated that sentence. Another guy. You wanted Miguel, deep down you wanted him, but you couldn’t have him. Not at this moment, at least. Not only could it put you out of a job, but complicate things. And what if his wife catches you? He said that she doesnt care, but what if she cares that the person she employed is sleeping with her husband? I mean, why would she? Their practically divorced anyways. Or maybe you’re just thinking too much. Your body tensing up. 

“I have my eye on someone, actually. Just having troubles about it.” You confess, looking down, kicking your feet.

“Oh you do? That’s rare. And troubles? Yea, I get that… Okay, what’s he like?” He questions you, sitting upright and fixing his posture. 

“He’s older,” You start off, hands shaking a little. Were you really about to do this? Tell him how you feel? I mean the doors open for you to tell him, it’s only a matter of how he’ll react. 

“Older? Like his senior year?” Miguel took notice of how tense you were, gaze softening a little. “You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to.”

“No.” You bluntly respond.

“Okay so not that old, I hope he’s nice to a sweet girl like you.” Miguel offered a faint smile, leaning back into the cushion. 

“He has a kid-” You usher out, mouth speaking faster than your mind.

For a second, Miguel is taken aback. That old? Seriously? 

“Has a kid? At that age?” I mean, for anything it could have been a toddler kid, no way a full kid at that age he was thinking of. “Well.. as long as you know what you’re getting yourself into.” He took another swish of his drink.

You gulped, body shaking as you tensed up, mind feeling dizzy from the whole situation. “No he’s not my age, what I mean is-” 

But you were quickly cut off, the tension in the air thick enough to cut with a knife.

“Yea, I got the hint.” Miguel looked at you, face stone cold as he held his glass. 

“Listen, uh, I’m flattered, really. But uh, that would be weird, right. I mean, that would be taboo even. I’m too old for a sweet heart like you. Don’t you have anyone on campus you’d rather be with?”

His expression was stone cold, and you sunk back into your chair. Not you really regretted yourself for telling him this. How you wish the ground would just swallow you whole right now, or simply pass away on the spot. 

“No, I just- I can’t get my eye off you and-” Quickly shutting yourself up, biting your tongue. You swore you were biting hard enough to draw blood, mentally cursing yourself for making this a conversation. He was right, Miguel was too old for you. But yet here you were, admitting those stupid feelings that you should have never brought up in the first place. 

“But what about your parents, certainly they wouldn’t approve? Hell, Dana would have a fit if she smelt your perfume where it doesn’t belong. Let alone knowing her divorcing husband is with, uh..” Miguel sighed, slumping, hand on his elbow as he clenched his glass so hard he could probably break it if he wanted to. 

Miguel sat back up, chugging the rest of his drink down before setting the glass on the coffee table, beckoning you over to him with his finger. “Come here,” He told you, almost as if it was a order. 

Within what feels like minutes of you moving through the room, air thick with tension as you make your way over to him. Yet no sooner does he have you sitting under him, frame tower over yours. 

Both of your lips were practically glued to each other, tongue exploring each others mouths as his hands felt up your body. You couldn’t help but feel his up too, hands tracing over each and every one of his well toned muscles. 

Miguels hand moved under your shirt, grabbing one of your breasts. His hands fondled the soft skin of your tit, rolling your nipple between his fingers. You let out a whine, muffle by the kiss. You felt your juices start to form a puddle in your underwear already, thighs clenched together to give your clit some friction. 

When he finally pulled away, eyes looking at yours. Christ this was wrong, but there was no stopping now. Miguel kissed down your neck, taking off your shirt. He kissed your breasts, sucking on them too. Making his way down your stomach, gently biting as if to mark it, hands working at your pants, tugging the material down and away. Getting on his knees infront of your legs, hands pulling them apart by your inner thigh. 

His eyes took a moment to look at your cunt, how pretty it looked, how your juices were moving past your slit. His eyes moved black up to you,

“You sure about this, Corazón?”

It was without hesitation that you nodded, opening your legs more, almost presenting yourself to him. Miguel quickly became fixed on your pussy, tongue licking a stripe between your leaking folds, tasting your sweet arousal. 

“Taste so sweet.. Didn’t take you for someone who likes older guys.” He mumbled against your clit, sucking on the bud. His hands moved to your ass, squeezing the soft flesh as he moved you closer to his face, burying himself in your cunt. 

He licked and sucked on your clit before moving down to lick your juices from your folds, tongue moving inside your soft walls. Miguel was eating you out like you were his last meal, arousal coating his mouth and dripping down his chin. You just tasted so sweet, he couldn’t get enough of it, groaning in your pussy, tasting you like you were some sort of desert. 

Miguel kept eating you out, noises almost sounding pornographic. He took in every moan and whine that left your mouth, feeling how his cock hardened just from the thought of being inside you next. You were so tight on his tongue, walls squeezing and contracting. You felt your orgasm approach, stomach tightening into knots. It wasn't long as he sucked on your clit, juices gushing out of your slit as your back arched, Thighs squeezed around his head as he kept licking up your juices, hand squeezing your ass. After a few more licks, he moved his head up , leaning over you again as he unbuttoned his pants and removed his boxers, cock springing free. 

“This is what you were after the whole time, isn’t it?” Miguel cooed, grabbing your legs to fold them up, knees practically meeting your chest. 

He lined his tip up with your entrance, slowly sinking himself in. It was a tight fit, almost too tight, sinking himself deeper into you. You whined and moaned, hands holding at his thigh.

“Ease up for me, pretty girl.” Miguel moved one of his hands down to your clit, rubbing the swollen tissue as your walls slightly eased up, taking the advantage to put himself balls deep inside of you.

He let out a groan once you clenched back down on him, hand moving back up to hold your other leg up. You looked up at Miguel through lidded eyes, mind clouded with lust. God, did you feel so full. His tip was prodding at your cervix, a vein gently pressing against that spongy spot inside of you. 

After a few seconds, his hips started moving. A fast yet not too rough pace. His hips snapped against your skin, the faint sound of clapping as well a few curses under his breath mixing in with your moans. Fuck, he was in too deep, and you were already cock drunk. Your hands found their way to his head, pulling him in for a heated kiss. 

Your noises were muffled in his mouth, the squelching sound of your pussy getting stretched out by him taking up the noise. How good it felt to finally have Miguel's cock in you, how many times you dreamed of this, touched yourself to the thought, yet the real thing was even bette.

“Good girl, taking me so well.” Miguel Praised, forehead touching yours, looking at how your pupils were blown wide, legs gently shaking. You couldn’t help but clench around him from the praise, letting out a mewl as you moaned again. Your second orgasm was building up already, and fast. 

“ ‘m so close-” You moaned, the pleasure feeling almost too good then it’s supposed to. This was so wrong, yet, it just felt so right.

“Go on, come for me, be a good girl and listen, hm?” He’d whisper, pace picking up slightly.

Miguel felt his own high approach, letting out a groan as he trapped your lips in a kiss again,the grip on your legs getting slightly rougher, pace getting rougher too. His dicktouched all those special places inside of you, juices coating his thick cock and dripped down his balls, some dripping onto the couch too.

Before you knew it, you were both coming. Walls tightening around him, practically milking Miguel dry as thick, hot ropes of cum painted your walls. For a few moments, you both stayed like that, coming down from your high. 

The reality then set in of what had just happened. His hands moved away from your legs as he pulled away from your body, eyes looking at your pussy, how he dripped out of you.

“Sorry-” You mumbled through your panting, body hot from the adrenaline, eyes looking down at the small mess.

“No it’s okat- let me uh, let me get a towel..” Miguel replied, fixing his boxers back on. He was only gone for a few moments before coming back with a towel, gently cleaning up the mess. Miguel folded the towel, gently placing you on top of the soft material.

The rest of the night was a blur, head reeling from the events. All you remembered was eventually landing in his bed, laying next to him. Miguel was fast asleep next to you, and you laid awake. All you could do was try and process everything. You slept with the person you had a stupid crush on, but also slept with a father, with a (almost non) married man. Oh you weren’t supposed to do that. What about morals? God this was such a stupid thing. You put your feelings over thought, and now, you were going to land yourself in such a difficult situation. Falling in love with someone who you couldn’t have.

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[hihhasotherfixations]

Tattoo Blossom - Price x Reader | Part 1

AU where your soulmate’s injuries appear on your skin like a blooming flower tattoo.

Part 1 | Part 2

Thank you @flop101 for helping me come up with the idea for this soulmate au!

CW: None. Reader has no gender specified. Slight talk of injury.

Word Count: 6087

It always started with a sudden pressure.

Sitting at work, you groaned softly as you lifted your hand, pressing it on your left sternum to alleviate the pain.

“Y/N, you alright?” Your coworker asked as they leaned over and you sent them a smile you didn’t really mean.

“Just fine, don’t worry. I’m… just gonna head to the restroom.” With that, you stood up from your chair and hurriedly walked across the office, towards the toilets.

Once inside, you made a beeline for the mirrors, unbuttoning your shirt slightly before pulling the fabric away from your sternum.

Right there, perfectly above the bone, sat a small black and white bud. It was small and tear drop-shaped, just like every flower started out as. It made it impossible to tell what type of flower it was yet.

Sighing softly, you thumbed over the imprint on your skin, a worry line present in the creasing of your brow.

“What did you do this time…” Muttering it softly, your eyes glazed over as you looked at the small tattoo.

Somewhere in the world, your soulmate had gotten hurt again. And while you had a beautiful, black outlined flower bud, he most likely had a gaping wound.

Closing your eyes, you let your shirt fall back into place. You just hoped the flower would bloom soon. After all, the bud becoming a flower signified his healing - his wound becoming a scar. And you’d be glad once it was in full bloom, meaning he was fully healed. And you’d also be able to see what you’d add to the collection.

After all, not every flower was the same kind.

From the myriad of them that littered your body, each one seemed to correspond to a specific sort of injury.

You’d read somewhere once that that’s where flowers got their meanings from. The reason for an injury.

You’d figured out some. How could you not?The petals covered you from chest to toe - thankfully avoiding your face for now - so of course you’d get curious.

They sprouted all over your body, some small, some larger. There was even a row of them on your forearm.

While most flowers were different however, there were those that repeated. And the most frequent were the Tansy’s.

You’d looked it up once. Tansy’s were flowers that signified hostile thoughts and the declaring of war.

Whatever else you held on your body, at least these flowers gave an answer. Whoever your soulmate was, wherever he was, he was at war.

And he’d been so for the past 19 years.

- - - - -

John Price often forgot he had a soulmate.

Only about 20% of the population did and with his busy life, thinking about that little flower on the back of his right ankle was far from the forefront of his mind.

It was easier to forget. Not only to hide his heartache but also to hide his guilt.

After all, what use was a soulmate if all they did was paint your skin against your will. Filling in your body with marks and filling up your mind with worry over what your soulmate did to get wounded so much.

So instead, John chose to forget. To leave the guilt and want out and instead focus on the missions in front of him. None of the boys in the task force knew, not even Nikolai knew. Laswell had only found out several years ago when he’d joined her and her wife for a camping trip.

Purely by accident too.

The three of them had been hiking when John’s boot slipped in a mud puddle, causing his ankle to make a very dangerous move to the side. Cursing and hissing, he’d limped over to a dry patch and taken off his boot, yanking his sock down to inspect his ankle, only to be stared in the face with the flower he’d done so well to forget until then. Right in Laswell’s sight.

The rest of that trip had soured explicitly for the SAS captain, constantly hounded with questions by Laswell’s wife - who seemed rather enthused - while the woman herself berated him every step of the way.

Now however, he was back in England, having just returned from killing Hassan and stopping a missile.

Sitting on a chair, he was struggling with putting on his boot, hissing with every move of his left arm that caused the gunshot by his sternum to scream in pain.

“Y’alright, cap?” Soap’s voice piped up as he leaned back on the couch, looking at the man while Ghost pushed the Scot’s legs off of himself in irritation (it was a dangerous game Johnny was playing.)

“Need some help?” Gaz now asked, standing in the doorway and Price looked up, glaring at the two men. Though he knew it came from a place of concern, it highly wounded his pride.

“And have either of you blokes tie my shoe like I’m some kid?” He scoffed, not gracing them with another look as he focused on the blasted boot again.

“There’s many more reasons to tie someone’s shoe.” Gaz protested, displeased by his captain’s stubbornness.

“Like what?”

“Like when your missus does it for you!” Soap piped up with a wide grin, getting a glare from Gaz for having his point interrupted, though Price just deadpanned.

“So a mother and a missus can tie a shoe and I have neither, how nice.” He rumbled back, slamming his foot down now to try and get his heel down into it, properly annoyed.

“Ah, that’s-“ Before Soap could continue to horribly try and rectify what he brought into the world, Ghost smacked him on the back of his head.

“Shut up, Johnny.”

“What I was trying to say.” Gaz stepped in before it could turn into a fight. “None of us will think any different of you if you ask for help every once in a while. Especially when you’re injured.” The sergeant tried but right then, Price managed to get the boot on, quickly tying it as best as he could with his limited movement.

“Well, I got it. So thanks a lot, lads, but no need.” The man hummed as he got up, grunting a bit as he accidentally strained the muscles of his shoulder. “Let’s get going, I need that drink.”

- - - -

“I’m really not feeling up for this.” You sighed softly, holding your shirt up to your chest.

For the past ten or so minutes, you’d been staring at yourself in the mirror, your eyes grazing over every flower that littered your body.

The large snapdragon in your side, the holly’s in your right thigh and abdomen, the hyssops marking three places on your torso, the anemone in the middle of your chest, the chain of several lily’s below your elbow. Not even to mention the tansy’s that sprouted everywhere. Your legs, your thighs, your shoulders, your arms.

And now the beginning bloom of a new flower above your sternum. All you could think about was how your soulmate had been injured again.

And how you feared the day that the flowers would wilt.

To you, the tattoos on your skin were a blessing and a curse. You didn’t mind them. It showed you had someone out there who was perfect for you - a missing puzzle piece you could slot together with. Not everyone got that privilege.

But who was to say you’d ever meet them? And while every flower that showed up was beautiful, it signalled your soulmate being hurt. And given you were almost entirely sure he was in the army, it meant those injuries were usually bad. You almost didn’t dare to count the amount of gunshot wounds, signified on your body as a singular small flower - so long as it didn’t have an exit point.

“Y/N, come on!” It was your friend pounding her fist on your bedroom door that made you snap out of your reverie. “You’ve been stuck at work for too long. You need a night out.”

Rolling your eyes, you pulled the red shirt you’d been holding over your head. It had sleeves reaching until halfway down your forearm, hiding almost all the flowers on your torso save for a single lily on your left arm. About two third’s of it showed while the rest of the chain was hidden. That was one of the largest patches of flowers and you’d long since given up trying to hide it.

Throwing on some jeans to match, you then swung the door open before Sarah could bash her fist into it again - which was an accurate thought as she stood there with her arm raised, ready to raise hell.

“Oh!” She startled before looking you over and groaning. “Again?” She whined, picking at your sleeve and letting it snap back against your arm.

“Ow, hey.” You chuckled, slapping her hand away before crossing your arms. “I’m not gonna flaunt myself in front of an entire bar. Leave me alone.” Shaking your head in amusement, you walked past her, making her fall into step behind you.

“You’re in your thirties and yet still you’re saving yourself like a nun. For a soldier? Didn’t he just give you a new one yesterday?” She whined and you sent an unimpressed look back over your shoulder, raising a brow.

“Ah yes, because he was given a gunshot wound as well.”

“There!” Sarah pointed at you as if to say ‘aha’. “You immediately know it’s a gunshot wound. Like how bad is that?”

“Just as bad as this miniskirt.” You grinned, poking her hip.

Gasping a little, she jumped away. “My skirt is not bad! I can wear what I want!” She protested and you gave her a smug look.

“Exactly.” After that however, you calmed a bit and grabbed her hand, running your thumb over it. “I don’t think it right to display someone else’s injuries. It’s a private thing, something he probably doesn’t want to talk about.”

“You’re too good for whoever this guy is.”

Laughing at Sarah’s pout, you swung your arm around her shoulders. “Let’s go get that drink then, hm? Get your mind off of me and my depressing ‘love’ life.”

Crossing her arms, she let you drag her away to the door, never letting up on her pout. “Fine.”

With that, the two of you headed out and towards the nearest pub, laughing and joking as you walked - after all, driving was out of the option for what you were planning for the evening.

- - - -

It was a lot busier in the bar than you’d expected.

Some type of football game was on and people had come out en masse to celebrate together, which left the large room stuffed relatively full with people.

Stumbling over to the bar with your best friend, you by some miracle managed to snatch two spots.

Sitting up on the high chairs, you both ordered a drink before settling into comfortable conversation.

“See anyone you fancy?”

Sarah’s sudden question had you spluttering into your glass before you glared at her. “Really?”

Blinking innocently, she just smiled at you and you playfully rolled your eyes. “I see someone you might fancy.” At that, she frowned and you nodded your head to something behind her.

Getting the hint, she turned around to see a man looking at her. Right as she crossed eyes though, he quickly looked away and she turned back to face you with a slight blush. “Alright so maybe you know my type.”

“Heads up.” You smirked as you watched him get up, goaded on by his friends and Sarah widened her eyes before quickly fixing her hair.

“I look okay?”

“You look great.” You chuckled, bumping your knee into her before turning to face the wood of the bar top right as Sarah turned around to greet the man.

Though you came here to have some fun together, you knew Sarah was a huge flirt. You also didn’t mind, perfectly content to enjoy a drink with your thoughts and people watching.

So, leaving her to her devices, you just politely tuned out the conversation on your right while smiling to yourself. Maybe this time, the man was a keeper.

-

“Excuse me?”

A good twenty minutes passed before the sudden words made you blink out of your thoughts, looking left to see a man about your age looking at you, a polite look on his face.

“Mind if I scoot in?” He asked kindly and you looked around, realising the entire bartop was filled with people.

“No, of course.” Smiling back at him, you scooted your chair right to make some room for him, which he quickly took as he stepped up and flagged down a bartender.

He had a pleasant look to him; head hidden under a black beanie, a weathered but kind face and muttonchops that fit him strangely well.

Thinking not much of it, you rolled your glass between your hands a bit, turning your brain off as you watched the bartender make… what was it- four drinks for the man?

Your gaze drifted a bit back and forth after that, until suddenly, a crash sounded to your left and a cold sensation splashed onto your arm.

“Oh-!” Yipping that out in surprise, you looked wide eyed to see the man frown down at the small tray he was trying to balance with one hand, one of the drinks fallen over and the contents dripping onto your arm.

“Ah, I’m sorry.” The man sent you an apologetic look as he quickly set the tray back on the bartop, to which you quickly waved him away.

“It just caught my sleeve, it’s okay!” You smiled, looking down at your arm to see the wet stain in the fabric. “I’ll just-“

“Here, let me.” He reached over the bar to his left - strangely enough using his right hand for it - and pressed some tissues to your soaked forearm.

“Ah, thank you.” You hummed, seeing him give you a tiny smile before his attention was taken by the bartender who placed a new glass in front of him which he paid for.

Quickly thanking the bartender, the man then briefly put his hand on your arm. “So sorry again. Have a good evening.” With a polite nod, he pulled away and slid the tray from the bar top into his hand - more careful this time - before he balanced it and made his way deeper into the pub.

Not thinking anything of it, you reached forward to nurse your own glass once more when a heat suddenly spread across your arm.

Frowning, you looked down. Was that drink he spilled hot? No, you distinctly felt it being cold just now.

Reaching down, you pinched your sleeve between your fingers, feeling how damp it was, yet all of a sudden, your heart seemed to stop as your eyes focused on what was going on on your skin behind your fingers.

There, on your arm, blossoming with heat, sat your lily. Your orange lily.

Breathing shallowly, you mindlessly reached back, slapping in the general direction of your best friend, managing to whack her on the back as she was still chatting up the man.

“Y/N, what-“ Her annoyed hiss was cut off when she saw you staring, wide eyed and almost panicked at your arm, where your flower was now nearly a bright orange - the colour almost completely faded in. “I- Oh my god!”

Loudly crying that out, the bar seemed to stop for a second as those around turned in concern, only for your friend to jump up from her stool and drag you down with it to hug you, jumping and laughing excitedly, putting the people back at ease as they continued their conversations.

“Please, keep your voice down!” You panicked but she seemed nonplussed as she pulled back and kept you at an arms length.

“Who is it! Who touched you? Y/N, your soulmate is here!” Her babbling didn’t stop as she pulled you closer and shook you by your shoulders before frantically looking around. “You do know who touched you, right?”

At that, you stopped briefly, your heart hammering as you turned around to look behind yourself, searching the crowd for the strange man with the black beanie and muttonchops.

It took a bit, but you eventually found him, tucked away nearly completely in the corner of the pub where he sat with his comrades, his back turned to where you were seated.

“Which one?” Your friend asked, trying to follow your line of sight and you bit your lip.

“Table of four. With the- with the hat.” You mumbled and she squinted, trying to find who you meant.

“I see no hat.”

“Black beanie.” You clarified and she squinted again, only to start slapping your arm.

“I see him, I see him!” She giggled before taking a closer look, humming in what seemed like approval. “He seems buff. Which makes sense if he’s in the military I guess, but look at those shoulders.”

Turning around, almost incredulous, you slapped her on the arm. “Would you stop ogling him!”

“You’re too much of a prude to do that, so I’m doing it for you.” She shrugged with a mischievous grin and you poked her side.

“Stop it.”

Giggling, she then slowly calmed down, her smile turning warm. Carefully, she moved to stand behind you, beginning to push you forward. “Go talk to him.” Her voice was soft in your ear and you felt your heart speed up.

“B-But-“

“If you don’t do it now, he might be gone.”

Just those words were enough to stop your struggling.

“It’s gonna be okay.” Sarah smiled as she softly whispered that and you breathed out a shaky breath.

“I just…”

“I know.” She hummed comfortingly, turning you around to face her before cupping your face. “He’s your soulmate. That means he is the one for you, Y/N. No matter what, he’ll listen. I’m sure he will.”

“You are?” You asked, your eyes going a little foggy and Sarah smiled fondly, rubbing her thumb over the corner of your eye.

“He’s yours. I know what you’re like and the universe picked him out for you. He’ll listen.”

Nodding softly, you leaned forward and hugged your best friend, composing yourself before pulling back and huffing out a breath, feigning more confidence than you had.

“I can finally say: go get ‘em, tiger.” Sarah spoke from behind with a squeeze to your arm.

At that, a soft and pleasant laugh left you and you playfully punched her shoulder. “All this time and that is the best you can come up with?”

Rolling her eyes with a grin, she then twirled you around and pushed you forward, making you send a playful glare back at her to which she stuck out her tongue.

After that though, you looked forward, seeing him at the far back of the pub and your heart slowly started speeding up, realising that this was finally gonna be the moment.

Slowly, you began walking, weaving through the tables and other patrons of the pub until it was a straight shot to his table.

Walking up to him from behind, you could feel your heartbeat rushing in your ears, your nerves alight and almost painful as they battered in your chest and stomach.

Swallowing softly, you were hugging yourself, unconsciously covering up the now coloured flower as with each step closer, it almost felt like you were getting tunnel vision - purely focused on the back of his beanie-covered head.

It was said that the universe found a way to bring two soulmates into contact, but was this really it? Was this it or were you imagining things. Were you mistaken?

Though he might not have noticed your approach, the men he was sitting at the table with sure did.

One of them - a hulking figure wearing a balaclava - glanced up, locking eyes with you which snapped you out of your tunnel vision. He quickly glanced at your soulmate and back at you, some sort of unspoken signal as, before you knew it, the man with the beanie turned around, facing you.

It looked a little stiff as he did and you caught a glimpse of bandaging under his loose hanging shirt. On the left side, where your flower bud sat too.

His eyes locked with yours and with horror, you realised you had to speak. In his eyes, you’d just stalked up behind him and were now just standing there like a limp chair.

“Uhm, excuse me…” You started softly, feeling your heart thud at the lame start though you could see him smile politely. One that you would give to strangers when humouring them, which is exactly what you were.

“How can I help you, love? Is it the drink?” He spoke and you clenched your hands as you hugged yourself tighter, hearing his voice gravelly and deep yet sounding so soft at the same time.

“Uh, no… it-“ You started as you shook your head. Just then, you were bumped into from behind.

Stumbling a bit, you caught yourself and looked back, realising how full the pub was, how his friends all had their eyes on you, and you suddenly knew this was no place to drop the bomb of being soulmates.

“Could I… talk to you for a moment? Outside?” You asked, uncrossing your left arm and pointing behind yourself at the door, nervousness apparent in every fiber of your being.

It must have been evident to him too, seeing how skittish you were, yet you could still see an awkward frown briefly paint his face, seeming not very thrilled with that idea as you could already see the rejection on the tip of his tongue. “I’m sorry but I came here with these boys and I can’t really-“

“Please, it’s important.” You begged, sinking a bit through your knees in your desperation.

Narrowing his eyes, your soulmate looked back at the men who sat with him at the table, who all seemed either confused or distrusting of you. He then looked back at you and you could see an intelligence shining in him as he took you and the past two minutes in. “And it has to be me?” He asked, pointing at himself to which you fervently nodded.

“I just- I need to say a thing. But it has to be in private- but you can go back here as soon as you want to!” You blabbered and his features softened a bit.

“You’re not selling me on this very well.” He chuckled before scratching the side of his beard. “Look, I’m not looking for any… Y’know.” He awkwardly got out and you felt the blood drain from your face.

“No, no! It’s not like that, I promise!”

Sitting back a bit, he seemed to take you and your frantic response in for a second before sighing and nodding. “Alright.” With that, he pushed himself up from his chair, turning back to his table.

“Don’t take too long, cap. This drink ain’t gonna last much further and I’d like another.” A man with a Scottish accent to his left spoke with a grin.

‘Cap’ as you got from the Scot, rolled his eyes and pointedly shoved his own glass towards the man with the balaclava. “Touch my scotch and I’ll have your head, MacTavish. And buy your own drink for once.” With that, he pointedly turned around and faced you, motioning for you to lead the way. “Go on.”

Licking your teeth nervously, you nodded and turned around, weaving between the plethora of people and walking over towards the exit of the bar, stepping out into the night sky.

Goosebumps raised on your skin as you heard him step out beside you.

“Mind if I smoke?” He asked and you turned back, only managing to shake your head, to which he hummed as he pulled up a cigar and planted it between his lips, proceeding to grab a lighter from his pocket and lighting it. Yet you took note of how he pointedly only used his right arm. “What was it you needed?”

Turning to him, you stared into his eyes while he looked back, curiosity and wariness both evident while his face lit up with the soft glow from his cigar.

“Uhm… you touched me.”

At that, he coughed slightly, taking the smoke out of his mouth as he looked at you. “I’m sorry?”

“I-“ Too scared to say anything else, you just lifted your hand away from your arm, ceasing your self-hug for the first time since he noticed you. Carefully, you held it out to him, using the street light across the way to show the newfound colours.

Looking from your arm up at him, you saw he was looking down at the flowers. The orange lily blooming halfway up your forearm, still partially hidden by your sleeve.

His face was void of any expression, staying blank as he moved his cigar to his left hand before he slowly reached out with his right, grabbing hold of your forearm to inspect it, his thumb ever so lightly brushing over the tattoo before he glanced up at you.

His expression was still unreadable and you panicked despite Sarah’s reassurances. You didn’t want to be one of the sob stories where you found your soulmate but got rejected or not believed. “Y-You’re injured. Here, right?” You mumbled quickly, pulling down the neckline of your shirt a bit to show the slightly blooming bud above your sternum.

At that, the man seemed to snap out of whatever state he was in as realisation seemed to dawn on him.

His eyes widened as he let go of you, to which you panicked even more, raising your shirt over your stomach to reveal the snapdragon in your side - the other biggest patch of flowers you had. “Here, I have more, see?”

“Hey.” Speaking up, he quickly reached forward and pulled your hands away, tugging your shirt back down. “Hey, it’s okay. Just slow down for me, yeah?” He reassured, a calm and firm tone that had you taking the first proper breath of air in ten minutes.

“I’m sorry-“ You huffed out and his eyes crinkled softly as he briefly rubbed the side of your arm before stepping back.

“This is…” Cutting himself off, he seemed to shake any shock away, instead focusing back on your eyes. “Bloody hell.”

He just stared at you for a moment, taking a deep breath before he cleared his throat.

“Let’s start over, shall we?” He mused, sticking out his right hand. “My name’s John Price.”

Smiling a smile of relief, you put your hand in his. “Y/N L/N.” You introduced back and his smile grew a bit under his beard.

“Sorry for spilling my drink on you. And for the cold opening earlier.” He apologised as he let go but you quickly waved his statement away.

“Don’t worry about it! A stranger walks up to you and practically forces you outside with them? I’d freak.” You chuckled, rubbing your arm a bit awkwardly.

“You didn’t force me, don’t worry.” John reassured, only now seeming to remember he had a cigar as he took it from his incapacitated hand.

The movement caught your eye however and you frowned. “Does it hurt?” Your voice was soft as you asked him but he still heard.

Looking from where you were watching, down to his sternum, he hummed a bit. “Like a bitch, but nothing I haven’t been through before. Don’t worry.”

At that, you smiled a little sorrowful smile, whispering softly. “I know.”

Your words - just those two dreadful words - made John’s eyes widen as he glanced down at your arm again, a remorseful and almost pained look overtaking him.

Putting out his cigar, he gingerly moved his hand to your left arm before glancing up at you. “May I?”

You nodded and he took hold of your forearm, his left hand moving for the first time as he ever so carefully slid your sleeve up and past your elbow, revealing the entire string of lilies that stretched from the middle of your forearm, around and to below your elbow.

One lily now partially coloured orange.

“I’m so sorry for this.”

His apology took you by surprise and you looked up at his face, seeing his eyes purely focused on your arm. Slowly, you felt the slightest brush of a touch, followed immediately by a warmth crawling under your skin.

Glancing down, you saw his thumb gently moving back and forth over the partially coloured lily, specifically the part that was still just an outline.

It took a minute for it to react, the heat only growing under your skin the longer he held his thumb there and together, you watched in awe as slowly, the rest of the lily filled with colour, fading into existence on your skin.

Just then, his apology from before filled your mind and you spoke up, still keeping your eyes on where he was holding your arm. Seemingly too reserved to continue to fill the other lilies with colour.

“Why are you sorry?” You asked and he answered almost instantly - too fast.

“I fucked your body up for you.” He spoke, letting go of your arm as he cleared his throat. The harsh reality of his own conviction breaking the trance the coloured flower had put him in. “Because of me, you’re walking around with this.” He spoke, turning your arm a bit to show you yet you countered quick.

“So are you.” You spoke but he let out a wry chuckle at that, shaking his head.

“I chose to do what I do. My scars should be my burden to bear, not yours.” He sighed, an emotion swirling in his eyes that you couldn’t discern. He looked into yours like that for a second longer, almost as if to find something within you before he gave up and cast his eyes down. “I pay the price for my mistakes and I’ve accepted it. But I really wish I didn’t get a soulmate because of it. You don’t deserve this, love.”

“You don’t want a soulmate?” You asked softly, your eyebrows scrunching in worry and John quickly straightened himself.

“That’s not what I said.” He hushed you, holding up his hand. “Hell, I never thought love was in the cards for me until I saw that I was one of the few to get flowers.” Confessing that, he rubbed the back of his head, accidentally displacing his beanie a bit - which he took a second to fix.

“You have a flower?” You whispered softly, a strangely hopeful look in your eyes that made John’s heart beat just a bit faster.

“On my ankle.” He hummed, bringing his right foot just a little bit forward. Entranced, you brought your own forward as well, turning it around to show your bare ankle visible above your loafers. There, right above the heel sat the scar that ran from one end of your ankle to the other.

“I forgot I had that.” You whispered while John looked at the scar, smiling softly as he finally saw what he had mirrored on his body.

“I would show you the flower but I’m wearing quite the stubborn boot.” He chuckled as he turned it back and forth a bit for emphasis and you smiled, glancing up at his eyes again. “How’d you get it?”

At his question, a little blush bloomed on your cheeks that had John begging to see it more, now intrigued. “Ah, well funny thing.” You hummed, scratching at your neck awkwardly. “My friend let me try out his skateboard after I made a joke it didn’t seem so hard. I somehow tripped, broke it and sliced my ankle open on the pieces.”

It took only a second for John to suddenly burst out into laughter, your blush growing exponentially in both embarrassment as well as the realisation of how pleasant the sound was.

“D-Don’t laugh.” You weakly tried, though your own smile was tugging on your lips as he practically doubled over, looking down. “It’s not that funny.” You huffed in amusement though John stood up straight, shaking his head.

“That is the reason they’re bluebells?” He giggled out the last of his laughter and you rubbed your arms.

“What do bluebells mean?” You awkwardly asked and John looked into your eyes, his own still filled with mirth.

“Darling, they symbolise humiliation.”

At that, your face absolutely flamed up with heat and you quickly slapped your hands over it to hide away. “No they do not! Tell me they don’t.” You cried out into your palms, mortified, and John burst out laughing again, much to your chagrin. “It’s not funny, that’s so embarrassing!” You whined, only to stop when you felt a soft touch on your wrist.

Gently, Price grabbed hold of it before he pried your hand away from your face, a smile still on his features. “That reasoning is a lot better than the ones I came up with. Besides, I like bluebells.” He hummed and you breathed out softly, licking your lips.

“Promise you’re not lying?”

“Scouts honour.” He hummed with a soft smile.

Taking a deep breath, you dropped your arm and smiled a careful smile back at him. “At least you knew you had a soulmate because of it, so it’s not all bad.”

“Not all bad.” He hummed, letting go of your wrist while his eyes flitted up and down, properly taking you in.

“Guess we both marked each other up then.” You spoke but at that, John’s warm smile turned wry.

“That’s quite different, Y/N.” He shook his head and you frowned, making him let out a rueful chuckle. “I’m not the one with a body full of flowers.” His knuckles gently stroked down your forearm before he dropped his hand and let out a sigh. “See, I feared ruining someone’s life because of how I live mine.”

Hearing his words, you don’t know what compelled you to do so, but you shot forward and grabbed his right hand tight with both of yours, holding it up between yourselves. “You ruined nothing for me.”

Blinking a few times, John turned his hand to grip yours back, surprised by how shockingly addicting the warmth your hands gave off was. He almost had to tear his focus back into the conversation as he ran your words through his head again and clicked his tongue. “Nothing? You sure? I doubt you got many relationships with all the flowers I must have given you.”

Smirking a bit, you tilted your head. “And why would I want relationships when I knew I had a soulmate out there?”

Your words were quick and paired with your sudden mischievous expression, the tension between John’s brows vanished as he looked at you.

It almost felt like a veil had been lifted, one that had been holding him down for god knows how long as he realised. Even through everything he did to you, you never doubted him. You’d held out for him and trusted him to come to you. And all that while you didn’t even know him.

Taking in your expression, he allowed himself to loosen up too, his lips quirking up slightly.

“Experience?”

Gasping playfully at that, you took note as well of how he seemed to relax, making you cross your arms in a pretend display and chuckle. “How rude.”

Smiling at you, John held out his hand. “You’re right. Allow me to buy you a drink to make up for it?”

Smiling back, you placed your hand in his. “I’d love that. Plus, I don’t mean to eavesdrop but I’m pretty sure your own drink is still being guarded.”

Huffing out a laugh, John shook his head and nodded. “Guess I’ll swipe that back as well. Allow me?”

Nodding, you let him lead you back into the pub, opening the door for you before he led you to a quieter corner at the bar top.

For the rest of the night, the two of you talked, getting to know each other before exchanging numbers to keep in contact and meet up later.

Later turned into two days later, which turned into another day later as well. And safe to say, by the end of the week, a lot more of your flowers were filled in and coloured.

- - - -

Did I think of every way Price got his scars aka you got the flowers? Yes. Did it come up in the fic? No. Sad boi hours xD

Part 1 | Part 2

[snowysosturn]

Speeding Car - Matt Sturniolo Part 2

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29

Pairing : y/n x Matt Sturniolo

Summary : After six years with your boyfriend Alex, you start mentally check out. At a UCLA party, Alex reconnects with his childhood friend Emily, who proposes a double date with her boyfriend Matt. Your attraction to Matt grows as he pays you the first real attention you've had in years, sparking a complicated emotional journey.

Warnings : MDNI, angst, unhappy relationship

The glow of my phone screen illuminated the dark room as I lay in bed, staring at Emily’s message. "Hey girlie." Those two words seemed innocent enough, but my mind conjured up all sorts of terrifying scenarios. Was she going to reveal something about Alex? A secret from their past or, worse, was he cheating on me? I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to make the thoughts go away, but sleep was foreign to me now. I tossed and turned, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on me like a heavy blanket. Each time I closed my eyes, the fear of what that message might contain consumed me. If Alex was cheating on me, it wasn’t a reality I wanted to face right now. I waited until morning finally came, I hesitantly opened the message, my heart felt like it was in my mouth.

"Hey girlie! It was so nice meeting you last night. We should definitely do that double date! How about Friday? Let me know what you think! 😊"

Relief washed over me, followed quickly by a sense of foolishness. Of course, it was about the double date. I felt awful for doubting Alex, I knew he would never cheat on me. It’s one of the reasons I fell for him. We were both so morally aligned with one another, same beliefs, same values. Cheating was something we both hated. We had an extreme amount of trust in each other, that was something we would never have to worry about. He wasn’t like most men in that regard, and I loved it about him. It made me feel so secure all the time and I was certain no one would ever match up with me in the same way ever again. I think that may be part of the reason I’m still willing to hang on to the relationship. I responded quickly to her message, and the plans were set.

The week passed slowly, each day a monotonous blend of work, errands, and quiet evenings watching Netflix on the couch with Alex. How exciting. It bothered me how easily he could agree to a double date, but any time I tried to plan something for us, he never wanted to do it. I found myself checking Instagram more often, scrolling through Emily’s pictures, getting a small preview of her life with Matt. She seemed to post him a lot, something Alex never did with me. He’s not the type to broadcast his life on the internet, but a few pictures of us together wouldn’t kill him, right?

Friday finally arrived, and I dressed for the evening rather quickly, not putting in much effort at all. I wore a light blue satin dress that hugged my curves perfectly. I stood in the bathroom throwing my hair up, a few stray pieces of hair falling loose. I couldn’t shake the flutter of nerves in my stomach. Alex noticed my agitated state, wrapping his arms around me from behind as I stood in front of the mirror.

“You look amazing,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to my temple.

“Thanks,” I replied, managing a small smile.

It was the first compliment I received from him in a while, moments like these that held me to our relationship, giving me a reminder of the good parts.

We left our apartment and drove to the restaurant. The LA lights flickering by, shadows of the passing buildings filling the car. Alex seemed relaxed, but you could tell he was excited. I wished I could share his enthusiasm, but my mind was already racing ahead to the evening, wondering what it would be like to spend time with Emily and Matt.

The restaurant was upscale, it had warm toned lighting and classy decor creating an intimate atmosphere. We spotted Emily and Matt at a corner table. Both dressed in all black, they looked like, as some would say, a power couple.

“Heyyyyyy guys!” Emily greeted us with a bright smile, standing to hug us both. Matt stood also, extending a hand to Alex and then to me.

“It’s great to finally meet you.” He said, his voice warm and genuine.

“You too,” I replied, feeling a slight red flush to my cheeks as our eyes met. He had a kind, easygoing demeanor that immediately put me at ease.

We settled into our seats, the conversation flowing smoothly. Matt and Emily shared stories about their adventures, their chemistry clear. They told us the story of how they met eachother in Austin in January while Matt was there on a work trip and that they’ve been doing long distance ever since. Which ultimately led to Emily deciding to transfer to UCLA, allowing them to be closer to each other. Just by watching them you could see their connection. They laughed easily and finished each other’s sentences. I couldn’t help but compare their dynamic to the strained interactions between Alex and me.

Silence fell over us while we stared down at our menus, “What is everyone feeling?” Emily asked.

“Garlic bread and pasta, Definitely” I replied. Matt have me a look as if I’d almost read his mind.

After we gave our order to the waitress, Alex and Emily slipped into conversation, leaving Matt and I sat in silence. Matt turned to me, his smile disarming. “If you were standing in front of a speeding car, and the only way you could make it out alive was telling a stranger 3 things about yourself, what would they be?” Matt questions me. A quick fire question to break the ice between us, it caught me off guard, so I took a second to think.

“You gotta be faster than that if you don’t want the car to kill you, you know, it is speeding” he laughed. Clearly this ice breaker is meant to make you speak without a filter, saying the first thing that comes to your head.

“Uh, my favourite color is green, I’m afraid of fish and my dream growing up was to be a figure skater.” I blurted out.

“Afraid of fish?!” Matt said as his jaw dropped as he laughed at me.

“I hate it when you’re swimming in the sea and you can feel them zooming past you, it gives me the creeps.” I said, trying to justify my answer.

It was nice to talk about myself for a change, I never got to do that anymore with Alex, I can’t remember the last time he even stopped to ask me how my day was.

I found myself relaxing, the ease of his attention a welcome change. “Figure skating is crazy too, do you compete or anything?” Matt asked me, genuinely curious.

I stopped skating when Alex started in UCLA. Alex started playing football for the Bruins, training every Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday. The same days I also had skate training. This meant that there would be no one home to make dinner for the both of us in the evenings. Alex could potentially go somewhere with football, so I stopped skating to be able to provide for him at home in the evenings since his nutrition was important.

“Uh no, I stopped a few years ago” I sighed. “I kind of just lost the love for it, we would train every Tuesday and Thursday and the occasional Saturday if we were on the run up to a competition, so it came a bit demanding.” I said, lying through my teeth. I wasn’t about to tell a guy I just met the reason why I really left. Especially when I’m sat right next to the reason. I missed skating, it was my escape from everything bad in life.

“That’s a shame. I bet you’re great at it,” he said, and the genuine admiration in his eyes made my heart skip a beat.

As the evening ticked on, I found myself drawn to Matt’s kindness and attentiveness. He listened intently, asked thoughtful questions, and treated Emily with a level of respect and affection that was impossible to ignore. I watched the way he looked at her, his eyes filled with admiration and love, which made me feel an intense wave of longing. It was everything I wanted.

We laughed over shared jokes and exchanged stories. He told me he was originally from Boston but moved to LA for work reasons with 2 out of his 3 brothers and for the first time in a long while, I felt truly seen. Matt’s attention was like a spotlight, lighting up the parts of me that had been stood in the shadows for too long. I couldn’t ignore the fact of how attractive I found him too. His eyes were so blue it made me melt when we would make eye contact. God why did I not make more of an effort to look nice.

The restaurant was starting to close up, so it was time to part ways. We said our goodbyes to each other, giving hugs and shaking hands. I was aware of the shift within me. As Alex and I drove home, I replayed moments from the evening in my mind, Matt’s laughter, his smile, the way he made me feel, even the horse necklace around his neck caught my attention. I lay in bed next to Alex but my thoughts were consumed by Matt. It wasn’t just his looks or his charm, it was the way he made me feel valued, important. I drifted into a fitful sleep, dreams filled with fragments of conversations, stolen glances, and the warmth of Matt’s attention. The next day I even found myself daydreaming at work, imagining scenarios where we’d run into each other again, where his smile would light up my day. It was a dangerous line to walk, but I couldn’t help the thrill that took over me at the thought of him.

When I got home Alex noticed my distraction, but I brushed off his concerns with excuses of work stress. The truth was, I was caught in a web of my own making, torn between the life I had built with Alex and the idealizing the possibility of something more with Matt. He brought out something within me, a spark of hope and possibility that I hadn’t felt in a long time. I often would have to pull myself back to reality and remind myself, he has a girlfriend.

The night after the double date, I found myself sat on our couch watching Netflix, again. Even though I wouldn’t even consider myself paying attention to the shitty documentary we were watching, as I was too busy caught in yet another day dream. Alex remained blissfully unaware of my inner turmoil, while I grappled with my feelings for Matt. It’s just a silly crush. He could be the love of my life. You’ll get over it by tomorrow. But what if i don’t. You shouldn’t be thinking like this you have a boyfriend too. Maybe he should start acting like one then. The thoughts swirled in my brain. Suddenly, Alex’s phone pings on the coffee table in front of us, the time showing 19:26. I could see from the corner of my eye he had received an iMessage…

a/n : we’ve finally met Matt! wonder who’s texting Alex on a Saturday night… next part will be out Sunday hopefully! (I will 100% be jet lagged so I can’t guarantee a time just yet) also thank you for all the love on the first part!! i appreciate it so so much <33

taglist : @muwapsturniolo @anitahunt333 @sturnfannn @jayde510 @chrissfavhoe @babyalliah-777 @v33angel @urmom69lol @willowrites @ribread03 @sleepyysavv @sturnsaver

[lizzy019]

✨ 🔞 ‎ 𝑀𝒜𝒮𝒯𝐸𝑅𝐿𝐼𝒮𝒯 🔞‎ ✨

‎ 💚- Fluff 🖤- Angst ❤️- Smut ‎

𝓐𝓫𝓸𝓾𝓽 𝓜𝔂 𝓑𝓵𝓸𝓰! 𝓡𝓮𝓺𝓾𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓼!

The Outsiders:

Johnny Cade

Jul 1/24 ❤️ - Baby, I'm Tired..

Jul 1/24 ❤️ - If White was a Feeling...

Jul 2/24 ❤️ - Stressed Out

Jul 3/24 ❤️ - Confidence or Illusion?

Jul 4/24 ❤️ - Say Cheese!

Jul 8/24 ❤️ - Sleep Well... Enough.

Jul 9/24 ❤️ - In The Club, In The Sheets, & In My Heart.

Jul 10/24 ❤️ - Are You Sure You Want Me?

Jul 12/24 ❤️ - My Good Boy!

Jul 14/24 💚❤️ - Dating Johnny Headcanons! - Part Two

Jul 19/24 ❤️ - White Raindrops.

Jul 21/24 🖤💚 - It'll Always Be You.

Jul 31/24 ❤️ - I Can Help!

Sept 20/24 ❤️ - We're Under The Same Stars.

Coming Soon!

Ponyboy Curtis

Jul 31/24 💚 - Tickle Fight?

Darry Curtis

Jul 6/24 ❤️ - Moonshine? That's Liquor.

Jul 7/24 ❤️ - No Modesty.

Jul 11/24 ❤️ - Big Titty Goth Girlfriend :)

Jul 13/24 ❤️ - Wait For Me...

Jul 18/24 ❤️ - Good Girl.

Jul 22/24 💚❤️ - Darry Curtis w/ nipple piercings - Headcanons!

Jul 24/24 ❤️ - Lock The Door, Yeah?

Aug 10/24 💚❤️ - Darrel Curtis - Protective & Dominant Headcanons!

Oct 28/24 ❤️ - Whispers in the Evening.

Coming Soon!

Sodapop Curtis

Jul 9/24 ❤️ - Fizzing Pleasures.

Aug 9/24 💚 - Morning w/ Soda :) - Drabble

Coming Soon!

Dallas Winston

Jul 4/24 ❤️ - Them hips, hun.

Jul 14/24 💚❤️ - Dally Headcanons w/ an Innocent S.O.

Jul 17/24 ❤️ - Birthday Boy 🎉

Aug 5/24 ❤️ - Sore Loser.

Aug 15/24 ❤️ - Help Me!

Aug 29/24 ❤️ - Itty Bitty Baby!

Coming Soon!

Keith “Two-Bit” Mathews

Jul 27/24 ❤️ - Are You In Love? ...For Real This Time?

Steve Randle

Coming Soon!

Doubles - The Outsiders

❤️ - They're Called "Love Handles" For A Reason!

❤️ - You Eat, So What?

The Outsiders: Dick Sizes

The Outsiders: Shower Routines?

❤️ - Bandaids!

Coming Soon!

Drabbles:

❤️ - Johnny w/ Ovulating!Reader

❤️ - Pussy-drunk Johnny

❤️ - Darry w/ Ovulating!Reader

❤️ - Johnny talking Reader through it

❤️ - Johnny in the 69 position!

❤️ - Johnny w/ a squirting kink

❤️ - Sodapop w/ Ovulating!Reader

💚 - Morning w/ Soda :)

❤️ - Johnny w/ praise and violent thrusts

❤️ - Dally w/ Ovulating!Reader

❤️ - Jally x Reader

❤️ - Two-Bit face riding

❤️ - Desperate Dallas lmaoo

🖤💚 - Pregnancy w/ Dallyyyy

❤️ - Darry x Dally x Reader threesome :))

❤️ - Dally teaching her to masturbate

❤️ - Public seggs w/ Johnny

🖤💚 - Dally mini break up :(

💚 - Johnny & his fluffy hair

🖤💚 - Dally helping you after you got jumped :(

❤️ - ditzy w/ Dally (suggestive)

💚 - Johnny loves youuuu

💚 - Dally n pink bows <3

❤️ - Stevie smut

💚 - Ponyboy so eepy

💚 - Pony has bad dreams abt you :((

CoD:

König

Jul 16/24 ❤️ - My Big Bear!

Ghost

Jul 7/24 ❤️ - Cinnamon Roll?

David Walker

Jul 5-6/24 ❤️ - I'll Be Home, Mama. / 💚 - Part two!

Nikto

Personality Analysis

Coming Soon!

Doubles - Call of Duty

Coming Soon!

The Karate Kid:

Daniel Larusso

💚 - Blood & Love Are Both Red.

Drabbles:

❤️ - Johnny x Daniel x Reader

[whispereons]

Oracle!Reader Part 19

Masterlist - Part 1, Part 18, Part 20

Warning! This chapter has child abuse, neglect, racism/classism and other sensitive topics! This is a imposter sagau so expect these things frequently. Attention! This chapter is extra long as it deals with Y/N's past and present. But I don't want to force a backstory that you guys might not want. Therefore you can read and choose what part of the backstory you want to be 'canon' for your Y/N. Whether be all, parts or none of it. It's your choice.

Your earliest memory was of a hospital. A vase of dying daisies, a child-sized bedding and a window slightly cracked to let in the night breeze were the only things you remember from that day.

A nurse gently knocked before walking in without looking up from the papers in his hands. 

"How are you feeling today Y/N? I hope you aren't suffering from nightma-Oh! You're awake!"

The brief exclamation from the startled nurse pieced you in that you weren't supposed to be awake. Or maybe, you haven't been awake for a long time?

Dry cracked lips wheeze out your small plea. "W-Water…" Coming back to himself, the nurse adhered to your request and brought the cup to your lips.

It was a cool relief to your aching throat and the first thing you asked him was.

"Who's Y/N?"

That cup of water and clinically clean blanket was the comfort you had during the next flurry of events.

That day, laying in a bed on the pediatric floor of a hospital, you learned that your parents were dead.

An accident that would have presumably traumatized you had little to no effect on your psyche. When the doctor asked you what happened you didn't have an answer.

You didn't have an answer for most of their questions either. After a series of fruitless questions the doctor and psychiatrist called in, settled on the diagnosis 'Retrograde Amnesia'.

Being stuck in a medically induced coma, you had to relearn how to walk along with other basic info. The photo of your parents, friends and house went ignored on your bedside. Why should you care about people and places you didn't remember? It's not like you were going to go back.

Most of the hospital staff gossiped in poorly concealed whispers as your nurse, Malcohm, walked with you around the floor. It was all the same thing.

"That child's poor parents, to not even be remembered by the one thing left behind."

It didn't bother you much but Malcohm always shooed them away with a scowl. He was kind to you, from helping you remember your name, to remembering what your parents' names were. 

It's not like you didn't remember that you had a name or that you had parents. But all the memories you had of them were gone. All your past experiences were gone too. 

The doctors were relieved to see that your memory loss was only applied to everything before the accident and not after it too. A date to be discharged was decided and a stoic man came to greet you. 

There was no warmth or care in his voice as he introduced himself as Mr. Castio. Not a drop of sympathy as he explained that you would be attending your parent's funeral. That your relatives would be there too, to discuss who would be willing to take you in. All you could do was stare at the newly replaced daisies and nod silently. 

If there was one thing you had relearned during your time at the hospital, it was that adults were to be obeyed. With a sad goodbye to Malcolm, you trailed behind Mr. Castio into the shiny black car.

You sat in the first row dressed in traditional and simple black clothing. Multiple people came up to you apologizing for your 'loss'. With a soft nod, you thanked them and they left satisfied. Mr. Castio had already advised you to not bother explaining the situation.

All your relatives spoke fondly of your parents until it came time to name anything they liked about your parents. The whole room went silent before little hesitant whispers floated around the room.

Seems you weren't the only one that couldn't remember.

The silence only got more unbearable once the topic of who you would be going with came up. Older adults volunteering younger family members while they vehemently denied the position. 

It was only after one uncle asked what would happen to your parents inheritance that greedy stares bombarded you. Picking at the stray fabric of the cushion, you ignored them all.

Mr. Castio clarified that the money would be untouched until you turned eighteen. Immediately, everyone looked away. No one wanted to raise a seven year old to adulthood without any immediate compensation. 

The funeral ended with your parents being incinerated. No one took the urns. It made you wonder why none of your grandparents showed up.

By the end of the day it was your aunt who agreed to foster you. Mr. Castio brought you to your parents house to collect your belongings. 

The house was clean and in order but the slight dust showed that it hasn't had a visitor in a while. Entering your room, you noticed how plain it was. Not a single toy, drawing or other personal object in sight. 

It unnerved you enough that you packed quick enough to not stay any longer. Curiosity poked at you to find out what kind of parents you had but you were more concerned on what your aunt is like.

She had a son and a husband you haven't met during the months you lived there. Her son was rude but never gave you any personal trouble. It was more common for him to throw a tantrum over one thing or another then bother you.

It wasn't an ideal life, but you weren't miserable. You ate three meals, had a bed and had supplies for school. Everything is fine, life is fine.

That thought was repeated as you sat in school with paper being thrown at the back of your head. The teacher ignored the behavior and your aunt repeatedly told you to not cause trouble. Even as you ate a different meal then your cousin and slept in the cramped closet-like room.

It was fine.

Until it wasn't.

A broken picture frame laid on the ground between you and your cousin, the ball he was playing with rolled to the opposite side of the room. When your aunt walked in, he cried and blamed you for it, saying that he told you not to play indoors.

This wasn't your fault and you said as much, but no matter what you said she just shook her head. You laid in bed with an empty stomach as your cousin’s words echoed in your ears.

"You shouldn't have tried to snitch on me."

School got worse with your cousin instigating more bullying against you. The house got tense as your cousin put all his energy into making you miserable. Day after day your aunt looked more and more stressed.

You still couldn't understand why he kept picking on you. There were no plans of revenge or fights, you relatively stayed neutral and passive. Life wasn't fine but you would have stayed like that until you overheard a conversation.

"-yeah, I'm only getting that much money for fostering Y/N. Shitty, right?"

Inelligle sounds came from the telephone in your Aunt's hand as she stored her jewelry. 

"If only my son would stop taking it. He already fights so much with Y/N and I just punish Y/N because a parent should always take their child's side. That child should have just passed away with their parents if they wanted to cause trouble."

Silently, you left back to the closet with the makeshift bed. Staring at the ceiling, you slowly accepted the reality of your situation.

Her wishing you to be dead alongside your parents wasn't the issue. What mattered was that she didn't care about the truth. She knew it was your cousin who started every problem and punished you because you weren’t her kid. 

That night, sleep didn't reach you as you spiraled into plans of vengeance. 

There was no sadness or shock on your face when you eavesdropped on her phone call with Mr. Castio. You merely noted the date that Mr. Castio would pick you up from your Aunts. You always had a feeling she would give you up, it just took longer than expected.

She and your cousin left to go celebrate whatever made-up achievement he lied about. Leaving you, an eight year old, home alone to your devices. If you ignored the list of chores you had to clean for ‘provoking your cousin into hitting you’, of course.

The house was cleaned to perfection when your aunt returned. The door creaked as she peeked in to see you dusting off the bookshelf in the guest room. She left satisfied as you set a book back on the shelf, covering a broken lock.

That night she told you to pack everything as Mr. Castio would be coming the next day. You simply nodded and left the room as your cousin laughed. You smiled too when he began asking what would happen to the money as your Aunt shushed him furiously.

Breakfast was cold as usual the next day, the mocking jeers your cousin spouted rolled off you with no reaction. Rolling his eyes at your ‘tough act’, your cousin scoffed before opening his lips to spout whatever snarky remark he had. Until the door to your Aunt’s room slammed open. She stormed in and whispered-yelled to him while pulling his ear.

You didn't have to hear to know what was said. All you heard next was-

"I didn't take the money!"

She's too mad to shush him and yells back. "Then who did?!" 

He stutters as he glances around the room. His eyes lock onto your stoic face with a frustrated expression.

"It was Y/N, they took it, they took the money!" He points at you as faux tears bubble up, his pathetic little sniffles only earn an annoyed sigh from his mother.

"What money?" You ask, tilting your head. Wide eyed, you stare at them both innocently, confusion emitting from your being all the while.

Mouth agape, your cousin looks back to his mother as she pinches the spot between her eyebrows.  "You're grounded until I get back all the money I lost, or until you return it." 

He tries to argue more but the ring of the doorbell interrupts the argument. Mr. Castio is let in and he merely motions you to follow him. Your aunt leaves the room with more wrinkles than she came in with.

With no goodbye, you grab your bag and walk to the door. Pausing you glance back at your cousin, a wide smirk is clear on your face. His eyes widen as realization sets in but there's nothing more that can be done as you close the door. 

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

The sun breaks dawn as a quill scratches against rough paper. The ink is used in elegant strokes as Violetgrass is grounded and packaged. Yellow-slitted eyes read it over once more before folding it and writing the recipient on the exterior. 

Pearly white scales glint with the ray of the sun as the snake is woken up gently. Sleepily, she loops around and climbs the outreach hand to hang around the owner's neck.

"It's merely daybreak, who could be needing medicine so dearly?"

"A fever could kill, you know that as well as I do, Changsheng." A smooth, melodic voice comes from the snake-eyed man as he stands from his desk and walks toward the cabinets. The letter is put into one cabinet and another is opened to obtain an opened vial of medication.

"Herbalist Gui stayed the night to take care of this particular patient so I'll give them the last of the medication so he can go home."

Glasses perched and viridian hair tied up, Baizhu walks into the back room and knocks softly. A tired looking Gui startles as a child sleeps on the bed. Her father is slumped on the bed as he sleeps soundly, his eye bags comparable to Gui's from his many nights spent worrying over his daughter.

"Go home Gui and have a proper rest. This should be the last medication she needs, her fever has lasted over the past few days but she's stable."

"Thank you Dr. Baizhu, I'll get going now. Let me just grab my belongings."

Gui stands from the small stool and ambles around the room quietly to not wake the patient. Baizhu stands at the bedside and pours the medication into an infuser.

A low fire begins to burn as the medication is properly prepared. Soon enough, Gui leaves the room as Baizhu brings the cup to the girl's lips for her to drink. It goes down smoothly and Baizhu turns to retrieve any supplements to aid her when-

"Dr. Baizhu, there's an emergency!"

Gui bangs the door open with a troubled look as the girl stirs and her father wakes up with a start. Baizhu smiles at the father as he takes long strides towards Gui.

Gui wouldn't react this strongly unless there's a real emergency. Baizhu has worked with him long enough to tell when something is out of Gui's expertise or life threatening. 

"I'll need to step out for a while to deal with this. Please keep watching Yiran, I can assure you that she's past any dangerous stages Mr. Kuan."

Kuan nods his head sleepily and stays in his seat as Baizhu walks out the room. The door closes and Baizhu follows Gui as he asks "What's the situation?"

Gui speaks as fast as he can while walking toward the pharmacy entrance. "Qiqi was missing most of the night, which isn't abnormal, but she's at the front desk crying inconsolable while carrying a person on her back. They're bleeding out heavily and I saw multiple cuts, bruises and arrows in their body."

"I'm sorry to ask this from you but please prepare the treatment room. Once you do so, I can take care of them as Qiqi runs the front. If anything, I'll close the front until the patient is stable."

Gui nods before turning back as Baizhu steps into the threshold of the front. His eyes scan the room and quickly spot Qiqi and the patient she's holding.

Qiqi stands frozen in place as she grips you on her back. Tears roll down her cheeks without stopping, a stark contrast to her blank expression. Baizhu walks closer and kneels down to her level as his eyes dart over your unconscious body.

"Qiqi, I need you to follow me while carrying them. Can you do that?"

"Dr. Bai… Dr. Bai, they need herbs. Dr. Bai, Dr. Bai…"

Qiqi stares past him as if she doesn't register his words. Baizhu recognized the name 'Dr. Bai' easily as her name for him when she was still learning to remember.

Changsheng lifts her head as she hisses in a cooing way. "Qiqi, you want to save them, correct? We have the herbs but you need to bring this patient to the treatment room."

Baizhu reaches toward the zombie child and carefully wipes away her tears. “There’s no need to worry Qiqi, just do as Changsheng says. Remember I love you most.” 

Qiqi nods but she doesn’t stop crying much to Baizhu’s surprise. Deciding to leave that for another time, he slowly walks to the treatment room passing by an exhausted Gui who sends a worried glance at you. 

“Don’t worry about it Gui, injured patients aren’t the most frequent but I have plenty of experience caring for them. Just go home and rest.” With a sigh, Gui leaves as Qiqi stands next to the clean bed. 

You’re quickly transferred to the bed and positioned to lay on your side for a proper inspection. “You should stay outside. Qiqi. I’ll let you see them when I’m done.” Not looking back, Baizhu changes his gloves before gingerly touching the bloody wounds. Bits and pieces of scrap can be felt inside the injuries under his fingers making him frown.

“There’s quite a range of injuries on them. Not counting the bruising and cuts, there are some deep stab wounds.” Changsheng comments from her perch as she stares down at the zombie.

“Their calves have been pierced too, it’s cold to the touch with elemental traces. Someone used a cryo vision on them. Their back isn’t straight and their breathing is harsh, I’m suspecting some broken bones. They must be identified soon so I can heal them.”

As he pulls his hands away, a small metal arrow tip falls out onto the floor. “That one has hydro elemental energy, different then the cryo one earlier. Two assailants means double the bleeding.”

“Baizhu! That can be dealt with afterwards, look at their head!” Changsheng’s sudden hiss pulls Baizhu’s attention to the area in question. The pillow your head is laying has begun to be stained red as a puddle forms. Blood dribbles out of your cracked lips as your breathing becomes strained.

Dendro glows at the tips of Baizhu’s fingertips as he carefully trails his fingers across the wounds. “Changsheng, they don’t have much time left. Their qi is perfectly balanced so I’ll only need to transfer some lifeforce. That head injury is the most pressing injury but I’ll spare some power to temporarily block the bleeding.”

The puncture wounds shine a soft green and the blood on your loose, shoddy bandages slow down. A pained gasp breaks free from your lips at the accident brush against your cracked spine.

Baizhu and Changsheng both peer down at your head, your matted hair knotting from the blood makes him grimace. “Their skull met with great impact but it’s not fatal.”

“Not yet, at least.”

“This mask needs to be removed for proper circulation and examination. More injuries may be hiding beneath it.” Baizhu speaks absentmindedly as he changes gloves and begins to reach toward the bloody mask on your face.

Your eyes snap open, making Baizhu freeze in surprise until you push him with enough force causing him to stumble. Changsheng hisses in retaliation as Baizhu steadies himself.

You stumble off the bed with a sway as blood rolls down your forehead. With glossy eyes and cracked lips you speak slowly. "Don't… touch it…"

Baizhu and Changsheng share a worried look at each other before focusing on you. Taking a step closer, Baizhu raises his empty hands in an act to calm you.

"Now, now, I'm just trying to help you. That mask is obstructing my care and can cause a serious problem."

"I… said… NO TOUCHING!" Your arm flails to the side, knocking over objects and causing a loud crash. 

An animalistic yell rises out of your hoarse throat while your limbs swing around in agitation. Baizhu keeps a safe distance away as he watches you.

"This enraged fool will be the cause of their own death!" Changsheng yells over the sounds of vials and glasses crashing.

Baizhu doesn't respond as he stares at you, your every movement is carefully noted under watchful yellow eyes. 

Your pupils blown wide, trembling body, and strange movements weren't lining up with a simple blood loss excuse.

A small hand tugs his pant leg as your rampage slows to an end. Baizhu looks down at the red rimmed pink eyes of the zombie child.

"What is it, Qiqi? Do you have something that can help them?"

Changsheng keeps a watchful eye on your exhausted body as your endless mumbles of refusal continue. Your bag in Qiqi's hands is handed over to Baizhu without a word.

"Is this theirs?" A single nod before she steps away to stare at you with a seemingly worried frown.

Baizhu opens the bag to find it completely empty. Not a single speck of dust or dirt can be seen in it unlike your dirty, ripped clothes. But before he closes it, he spots a tag on the inside of it.

'Property of Y/N L/N'

With that new information, he sets the bag down on a farther table and looks back to you. You stand trembling next to the bed as pieces of broken objects litter the ground. With slumped shoulders and eyes threatening to roll back, your voice cracks with every mumble.

"Don't take it off. Can't take it off.. Won't let you take it off…"

"Y/N? Is that your name?"

No reaction comes from you. He tries again. "Y/N, can you hear me? Can you understand me?"

Again nothing, not a twitch, not a flinch or even a slow in your mumbles. With a tired sigh Baizhu makes up his mind.

"Changsheng we have no other choice, I'll knock them out so be prepared to share my life force with them during the struggle."

"No."

Baizhu looks down at the snake in slight surprise, Changsheng speaks in a wary voice.

"For whatever reason, Teyvat is reaching out to me in warning. Don't take off the mask, keep it on and heal what you can."

Baizhu spares one more glance before sighing. "If that's really what you believe then we will do things your way. Perhaps Y/N's body is stuck in a fear response and may actually kill me."

Baizhu carefully steps past the shards and approaches you with a gentle smile. "Qiqi clean up the mess, lest our patient injure themselves on it. As for you Y/N, you can relax. I will not take off your mask, you are safe here."

Immediately your eyes roll back and you collapse to the ground. Baizhu was swift enough to catch you before any injury but your reaction was enough to cause him grief.

"Qiqi, as soon as you are done, manage the front for me. This will take a long while."

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

Change was something you grew used to during your childhood. You changed schools, caretakers, friends and homes long enough to know the process by heart.

Adapting was another thing you were good at. Shady houses with out of control classmates and unending fights meant that it was a dangerous place. That you had to stay low and be on edge constantly. Everything you owned had to fit in your locked bag or else you would find it missing the next morning.

It was a bit easier in the city where most were working class. Making friends would be too much trouble and fairly fruitless. You were content to stay invisible and deal with any problems outside of public view. Some students just didn't know how to describe you, some were too fearful of what they accidentally saw to say anything about you.

The most and least stressful was the rare times you ended up with a rich family. On one hand every student knew you as an orphan but at the same time, rich kids loved to feel like heroes. All you had to do was play the weak and kind student. Nearly every student flocked to be your guardian angel as you showered them with compliments.

You never lacked lies and stories to tell but you also never stayed in one spot for longer than a few months. Each time Mr. Castio got more and more fed up with you. From a stoic disappointment to a quiet rage filled with belittlement. 

It was at 12 years old that you got fostered by your third wealthy family. They already had children, a daughter your age and a son who was barely three. You already knew that you would be their designated babysitter.

After a month of living there, you began to truly enjoy it. There was no mistreatment, obvious favoritism, a nice allowance, and even your own room. Even though you held no love for them, you followed your foster parents requests with no trouble.

Cleaning, babysitting, organization, yard work, sewing and more spontaneous jobs. Not only did they give you a bonus for the work, they also let you buy stuff with it when you asked. 

You didn't need to be constantly catered to like their daughter, you were just happy to sleep without fear of getting robbed, an empty stomach or bruised skin.

After a while you began to realize just how much you depended on them. It worried you, you agonized endlessly about getting attached and abandoned. You worked harder at school, gave in to their request full of smiles and got along with their children swimmingly.

The longer you stayed and obeyed, the larger the possibility of them adopting you or at least fostering you till adulthood became. 

But, you really should have known better. You’ve gone through it so many times, yet it seemed you still didn’t learn your lesson on who you can trust. The only person who truly had your back was always going to be yourself.

A normal day, a nice lunch and a polite request to do the dishes, something you were happy to oblige in. The sponge absorbed the soap and water letting you wash the dishes with ease. The chore is second nature to you.

 Their daughter was out of the house, probably hanging out at a friend's house. Their son was with them in the dining room as their chatter reached your ears clearly.

“I’m so glad we got lucky to foster such a kind child.”

“As am I. They work hard, get along well with everyone, and help us around the house without complaint.”

Their praise was something you were still struggling to get used to. But it made you happy nonetheless. You couldn’t seem to shake the feeling that it was an exaggeration or a lie no matter how many times you chided yourself.

“That’s true, I never expected a kid with that upbringing could be so smart.”

“What child wouldn’t do well with us taking care of them? They struggled a bit at first but they seem to realize what a good deed we did with fostering one of their kind.”

The water running down your fingers felt colder, almost like ice was traveling through your veins. Was that really what they said? Did you hear them correctly? You held onto some semblance of hope that they weren’t speaking about you like that. But the longer you listened, the smaller your hopes shrunk as your doubts grew.

They spoke about you as if you were a pet. Due to what? Being an orphan? The class difference? Your race? Your gender? Or was it just you? All their past compliments and words that seemed innocent are thrust into a new light. One full of demeaning words hiding as kindness.

The dishes in your hands become like dynamite. Just one drop and it’ll set off a whole chain of events where you can tell them off. To scream insults and obscenities from feeling tricked. Yell at them exactly how you feel, how angry it made you to be spoken as if less than human. As if less than them. 

Instead, you set the clean dish onto the drying rack. A deep breath is taken and then two more. Impartial rationality is focused on as your wounded heart is shoved away.

You have a good home, you aren’t being abused. Taken advantage of? Yes, but you get paid for it. This isn’t a family, it’s a job. It’s the best foster family you’ve had by far. They were wealthy and if you played your cards right, you could graduate from this upper class school and get a good job. 

It’s a good deal. It’s the best deal someone like you will ever get. You should be grateful, you don’t need their affection, love or attention. You just need to survive long enough to support yourself. You shouldn’t ruin a good thing.

Those words play on repeat as the last dish is set on the drying rack. The sink is turned off before you grip the counter tightly. Water is drained down the sink as you tell yourself that you’re just angry. Your blurry vision is just from anger, you remind yourself over and over again.

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

A strong stench of iron permeated the room as skilled hands continued to work on your body. Blood splatters stained Baizhu’s clothes, sweat on his temple as he carefully traced the wounds with Dendro glowing on the tips of his fingers. Life force was continuously given to you as Changsheng stabilized Baizhu’s weakening body.

With the most pressing injuries taken care of, Baizhu examined your bloodstained back. The broken and fractured bones there were the next in line to be treated. Grabbing a pair of scissors from the bedside, he raised them to the midline of your clothes.

“The blood is keeping the clothes stuck to their body. We don’t have time to pull the clothes off carefully.” The small mumbles left Baizhu as he concentrated on not accidentally nicking your skin. 

Once done, he set the scissors aside and pulled the remains of your clothes off. A clean wet cloth is gently used to clean the blood off as your skin becomes visible. Simultaneous gasps leave the contracted pair as the cloth is dropped.

“Those scars! Baizhu, this isn’t a mere coincidence anymore. This person is much too similar to The Creator. Those scars are exactly as described in the scriptures.” Changsheng’s frantic hissing doesn’t reach Baizhu as he stares sternly at the marks in question.

His lips part hesitantly as his eyes never leave your body. “We should leave it be….”

“And what reason may that be?” Baizhu reaches an ungloved hand to thumb the old and faded scars as chills run down his spine.

“While it may be true that they are suspiciously similar to the Creator, there is more to this situation. The most widespread theory on why their blood is gold is that their blood is supplied with pure elemental energy and oxygen unlike everyone else that simply wields elemental energy. Even inhuman beings don’t have elemental energy coursing through their veins.”

Baizhu focuses his attention back on your bones as Dendro is summoned by his vision again. Changsheng rests herself with a tense posture as she waits for Baizhu to continue.

“Y/N is bleeding red and naturally absorbs my Dendro seamlessly. Furthermore, the scars on them have a strange aura on them.” Changsheng gives a look to Baizhu silently conveying her theory.

He shakes his head in response and clarifies. “It’s not god remains, but it’s similar. If god remains are like a natural poison and plague on a body, then this aura is the cure. The best way to describe this is that they are god cores. I believe it’s connected to the reason their qi is perfectly balanced despite the situation.”

Changsheng settles down at Baizhu's words as she watches him continue to care for you. Your breathing hitches as your bones are healed and snapped back into place. A low wail is all that can leave your throat.

“So Y/N is something in the middle? Will you really care for them even if it means taking care of a potential imposter?”

A heavy silence follows the question as Baizhu’s natural smile softens. The medical supplies that were used during all these hours litter the room in a mess. His gold eyes stare down at your pale, trembling body. 

“Yes, I will. They are still a patient that was brought to me. If they truly are an imposter then the Millelith can deal with them after they’ve healed properly here.”

Baizhu cleans his hands and changes gloves once again as he examines the remaining wounds on your body. Smiling down at Changsheng, he speaks smoothly “Shall we begin the final stage of their treatment?” 

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

Middle school reaches its end and the summer before high school came. You had passed with a high grade from your many long nights spent awake. Long days spent babysitting their son while upkeeping the chores while their daughter played leisurely. 

You felt proud of yourself to pass with those grades while dealing with them. As the months went by, your foster parents felt less and less of the need to treat you the same as their children. At the end of the day, they still paid you so everything was fine.

Summer was reaching its end and you were creating a list of items you would need for the new school. Halfway through, a soft knock on your door broke your focus. Your foster parents stepped in and asked you to join them in the living room.

Swallowing down your nerves, you nodded and followed them. Were they planning on giving you up? So close to the new school year?

The moment you sat down, they dropped the metaphorical bomb. "We want you to stay back this year and go to high school next year instead."

That wasn't so bad right? You just need to wait another year to start high school. It's not like you could be thrown out at 18 with no high school diploma, left to fend for yourself after giving up a year of school for them.

It's safe to say that you reacted badly to the news. Every 'Why?' was given a half hearted answer that changed constantly, and when you put your foot down and said no, something about them shifted, as if a curtain had been lifted or a coin had been flipped.

The once kind and gentle gleam in their eyes dulled into something akin to annoyance. As if you were doused with cold water, the atmosphere became tense and you just knew that you messed up. You, who had been so careful to stay on good terms and always abide by their request, was looked upon with coldness. 

“A child like you should not be giving us this disrespectful attitude.”

“We’ve clothed you, fed you, provided everything in that room. And it’s now with this single request that you’re rejecting us this harshly?”

The lecture goes on and on. Told how grateful, how sorry, how happy you should be. Cruelty laced every word has their arrogant figures towered over you. There was no chance for you to speak up, the helplessness you felt only pushed you down further.

At the end you were sent to your room with the date of your ‘fostering’ decided. The suitcase you took out and began to neatly fill felt foreign. You truly believed that you would be staying here until your 18th birthday. With the room bare and your eyes puffy, you tried to sleep.

Thoughts of what you should have done came to you in waves. You should have just accepted it. Even if only as a facade and found some way to prevent them from alerting the school in time. You wouldn’t have lost anything, if only you weren’t so stupid.

Tears spring up and it’s wiped away harshly as more replace it. Bitten lips begin to bleed as you hold back any embarrassing sobs that crawl up your throat. It’s only as footsteps are heard outside your room that you freeze.

Eyes wide you listen to the conversation as the sadness turns to bitterness. The bitterness wraps around your heart and squeezes as you learn the truth behind the matter. Their precious daughter had failed her grade and they just couldn’t let their child be upstaged. 

Teeth grinding, you sit up from your bed and begin to dig through the stash of objects you’ve found throughout your time in this household. A plan forms in your mind that all depends on what opportunity is given to you.

Your ex-foster parents announced a dinner to be held at a fancy restaurant and dropped the responsibility of watching over their son on you. Their daughter cheers happily at the sound of her favorite restaurant being chosen as you go to your room. Curled up in the bed, you try to ignore the stabbing pain in your heart.

The door slowly opens as the house goes quiet, their son toddlers to your bed with wide worried eyes. Chubby fingers pat your cheek softly “Are you okay? You sad?” The broken sentences are cute as he stares at you sadly.

Sitting up, you pet his head and smile at him. Your eyes are a strange swirl of emotions as you reassure him of your well being. The next sentence is a familiar one, just with different intentions than all the times you’ve asked before.

“Do you wanna play a game of hide and seek?” The smile on his face is so bright that you almost feel bad for your actions. 

Mr. Castio picks you up the next day, your ex-foster family waves goodbye to you as you enter the car. Their son cries and begs his parents to stop you as they soothe him calmly. Their daughter is the first to leave as you close the car door.

“How could you fuck up such a good deal?” The harsh words are spoken easily now that privacy is ensured. Wrinkles are as clear as his scowl as he drives away and out of the neighborhood. 

“I got you to be fostered in a family like this, and you couldn’t just go along with what they asked? I never had much expectations for you, but did the amnesia take away your brain too? Actually, you were probably born this way.”

Curling your knees into your chest, you try to ignore his demeaning words. Round two of being treated like a worthless child began as you endured the long car ride. The more he spoke, the more you shook.

“-really. Making my life harder than it has to be. All because you couldn’t shut your damn trap. Is your useless pride worth more then-”

“Why don’t you shut the fuck up instead?!” That was all it took for the loud argument between you both to begin. You had already tried to play nice with one set of arrogant adults, why should you deal with another?

A pained smirk crawled onto your face as you cursed Mr. Castio out who didn’t hesitate to dish it back. Whether it was being nice and submissive or being rude and blunt, both had the same outcomes.

You sincerely hoped that your ex-foster family would enjoy the gifts you left for them to find. 

The drugs you had placed in the nightstand for the strict and uptight breadwinner to find. The photographs of the breadwinners affair you printed and left for the house spouse to find in the cupboard. And finally the positive pregnancy test you set in the liquor cabinet that they never failed to open at dinner time.

By all means, their ‘perfect’ family should fall apart, it was just a shame you couldn’t see the fall out yourself… It didn’t stop the unease and slight guilt you felt for their son who had truly done nothing to you. It’s not like your actions would have too much of an effect on him right? You, you weren’t wrong.

Right?

At the lack of insults, Mr. Castio stopped his verbal abuse. Deep in thought, you stared out the window as the scenery passed by. Where you would go next was not known but it was all right. You would find a way to survive, you always did. 

You had to.

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

Calloused hands smoothened the blanket on your semi-healed body as Baizhu ignored the exhaustion setting in. The sun was high in the sky as the afternoon lull began to set in. Qiqi opened the door slowly as she peeked in, her eyes trained on your bandaged form.

“Dr. Baizhu, is it done?” Her hesitant voice was answered with a smooth smile and a calm voice. “It is, but Y/N needs their rest. You’ve been tense since you brought them in at dawn, that’s not good for you. Go to the courtyard and practice your arithmetics.”

Qiqi gives a small nod before walking away. With a sigh, Baizhu cleans up the remaining mess from the long treatment. “You’re exhausted, Baizhu. Stop acting tough and get some rest.”

Changsheng’s snotty but caring tone is clear to Baizhu as he walks out of the treatment room. “I’ll instruct Qiqi to gather some more herbs once she’s done. Before I can rest, I’ll need to check up on the counter. Gui should have arrived an hour ago.”

Opening the door, Baizhu is greeted with the sight of Gui giving a farewell to the last customer. At the sight of the doctor, Gui perks up in interest. “How is that patient? Did they make it?”

“Thankfully they did, but they’ll need to stay here a few days for the more severe injuries. I believe their name is Y/N, so address them by that name until we can ask them ourselves..”

Gui nods in response as Baizhu looks through what herbs they still had to use. Different prescriptions come to mind as he filters what information he knows of Y/N. What could trigger an allergic reaction, what medicine could have been consumed beforehand? What prescription is affordable without having too many side effects?

Those thoughts consumed his mind as Qiqi returned and he mindlessly instructed her on what herbs to gather according to the prescription of his choosing. Gui leaves deeper into the pharmacy as Baizhu finishes and stores the medical file safely.

Did you have any means to pay the treatment or follow up prescriptions? Any family to contact for visiting and support? You wouldn’t be the first patient to have no one to rely on but Baizhu still couldn’t shake off the feeling of something more going on with you. 

It was quite perplexing that he, who took great care to focus on being the best physician and on his own contract, was so drawn in by you. With a tired sigh, Baizhu pushed up his glasses as Changsheng raised her head to look behind him.

A knock on the doorframe only urged him to turn around and look at the unexpected visitor. With weary and suspicious eyes Baizhu stared straight ahead, “Is there something I can help you with?”

Lips curled into an ambiguous smile and with a polished voice, the visitor replies.  “I hope so, do you happen to have a patient wearing a mask?”

This chapter was fun to write, what writer doesn't like giving a trunk ton of trauma on their protagonist? I get 18 years to configure to my liking, what did anyone expect? But as always you don't need to consider this your Y/N's backstory. In truth I won't have you think back to these memories much as you have moved on from that past. You have for a long time. This is just the 'canonical' explanation as quite a few of you seemed to like my version of Y/N. Which makes me very happy! My editor approved of this idea, and edited it quickly enough for me to pump it out. I deal with the heavy work and don't need to do the annoying work! Also feel free to ask if anything was confusing. One last thing, after I got rid of the spam/porn bots I saw that I reached 1k followers! That's pretty amazing but I'm not sure if a special should be done or not. And if so, what should I do?

Taglist: Check Masterlist for more details but everyone is welcome to join it!

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[yenonnoff]

TEACH ME HOW TO LOVE!

atsumu miya x fem!reader

⌒☆ synopsis : when y/n l/n, a rising actress, decides to star in a romance film that could make or break her career, she’s unable to showcase her skills, revealing her inexperience within the romance department instead. worst of all, atsumu miya, her co-star and the main lead’s love interest, seems to hate her guts! with absolutely, unbearably zero chemistry between the two, an idea was proposed: spend time with one another in the upcoming weeks. will y/n be able to ignore her professionalism and listen to her heart? and will she, a clueless romantic, be able to pick up on the signs her co-star is sending her?

⌒☆ content: actors/celebrity au, social media au, modern au, enemies (got off on the wrong foot) to friends to lovers, slow burn (sorry 😞), mild angst, fluff, crack/humor

⌒☆ warnings: she/her pronouns used, contains a lot swearing, mentions alcohol/alcohol consumption,

⌒☆ status: on hiatus; started (07/18/23)

🎬 chapter names may change as the story progresses + unless stated differently, ignore all timestamps

🎬🎧 — playlist

STARRING:

｡ｏ♡ HOT dummies // mentally sane + atsumu ig? ｡ｏ♡

( minor chars! )

LIGHTS:

01. vengeance (like batman)

02. vroom vroom! im here (୨୧)

03. wtf is love

04. sweet dreams (or not)

05. hi, mr. charismatic

06. give me a break (୨୧)

07. morning madness

08. you ruined my coffee with your scowl (୨୧)

09. emergency conference meeting!

10. strangers (?) at an amusement park (୨୧)

11. perhaps a malfunction?

12. a mistake, 100% a mistake

13. your words

14. message sent, message received

15. tolerate! tolerate! tolerate!

16. me, you, and a beautiful sunset (୨୧)

CAMERA:

17. snap out of it!

18. brewing up a storm

19. do not disturb

20. conversation over coffee

21. cat chase (୨୧)

22. 2 people, 1 truth (୨୧)

23. the act of kissing (୨୧)

24. plans & precautions

25. fame is not for the weak (୨୧)

26. a pro’s guide to scandals

27. stranger danger!

28. what comes after heartbreak? (୨୧)

ACTION:

29. mission failed (unsurprisingly)

30. 10 things i hate about you

31. i hate unrequited love tropes

32. beachside lesson on romance

33. seashells and slackers

34. to the miya’s (୨୧)

35. wait a minute, you what?!

36. mondays are for bad luck

37. anything for you (୨୧)

38. clown circus clown

39. love is when two hearts beat the same (୨୧)

ENDING CREDITS:

40. to new beginnings

41. i want to call you mine (୨୧)

42. choices with lovely outcomes (୨୧)

43. gross! lovebirds!

44. co-star to your main event

EXTRAS:

45. a lovely tryst

46. clueless romantic, but i love you

a/n: hi!! this is my first ever smau + my first time posting on tumblr so pls be patient if smth looks off (and if smth does, pls kindly inform me!!). i want to thank @idlerin for inspiring me to make this, so many thanks to syl!! u should check out her smaus and other works, theyre all amazing!! asides from that, i want to give the fattest biggest thanks to my best friend may (@kqbukimono) for putting up w/ my spontaneous questions and for giving the best advice ever (ure the best ig 😜). she also helped me choose the title! ok im being too nice, he might make fun of me. thank u so much to everyone who is planning on reading my smau!

taglist is open! dm or ask to be a part of it!

[sapionic]

Numerology And Your Name

The Numerology of your name is insight to your character. Let's be honest, nobody is changing their name like we change solar charts every year. You most likely had your name your whole life, right? Let's look into some characteristics and energy people are likely to have just focusing on their first name as it's the strongest and most demanded. This is using regular, basic numerology because there are multiple systems people use.

Winter - This is a cute name as it is linked to the season so you automatically get fluffy or bright vibes from this name alone. Let's now break it down

W=(23)5, I=9, N=(14)5, T=2(20), E=5, R=9(18) We see that there is a pattern of 5 with this name so we know that 5 is linked to Leo in Astrology and linked to Mercury with the Numerology system. I have seen the energy play out in the astrological ways though. Looking at people with this name, we know they are likely to be feisty, sexy, and sexual. They can be spicy, creative, and complex. Likely to be deep into the party scene. 5 is the strongest energy of this person so they are likely to prioritize joyful experiences as much as they can. Notice how the W is 5 once the 2 and 3 is added. 23 is linked to high social activity. This person would be a good party host. Someone with this name also has significant 9 energy as you can see. They are good in authoritative roles, but they are likely to prefer authoritative roles in places they can also enjoy. Club owner, club host, promoter, dancer,etc. Likely have good basic life skills with the one 2 energy that they carry. This makes them efficient with money opportunities, cooking, and showing compassion, but also being comfortable with self. Winter would be a person who could be difficult to deal with and won't always be easy to handle, so she would need to grow up and mature. Change will be prominent. Winter=8

Whitney - Well known name, but not extremely common at this same time. We can see some repeating energies from the first name we did above, but let's now focus on this name in its entirety. W=5(23) H=8 I=9 T=2(20) N=5(14) E=5 Y=7(25) Whitney would share a lot of traits with winter, but with a splash of secrecy and sensitivity. Whitney would require a little more depth in her experiences, thanks to that 8 influence. She would likely do things while focusing on the long-term. She knows how to have fun, but still play for keeps. She is a hard worker and likely keeps a job. Likely came into lots of money and knows how to seize good opportunities. She likely had a little more taboo experiences than Winter(8 influence). Since Whitney is someone who likely endures many pressures in her life, her destiny # is 5 which balances out the drama and chaos she experiences. What better way to balance it out than good ole fun? Whitney=5(41)

Jasmine - Common name. Let's get into it! J=1(10) A=1 S=1(19) M=4(13) I=9 N=5(14) E=5. We can see that Jasmine has big 1 energy so that would make a person with this name innovative, impulsive, daring, bold, and active. The next significance we see is a 5 so we know Jasmine would be no stranger to sex appeal or activity. She is likely a fun loving individual who can be silly, playful, and childish, but also very protective. Where is the protective energy coming from? The 4. Any pressure or anger she has is expressed outwardly. Any excitement and urge she feels is acted on promptly. Any desires and interests she has is acted on promptly. Jasmine doesn't do anything she don't want to do. If she does anything, it's because she wanted to. Heavy 1 energy can make a person a hot head in some way. This is why changes will come to Jasmine. JASMINE=8 which is about growth, maturity, and transformation.

Mariella - Interesting name that I wanted to use for this post. Let's get into it. M=4(13) A=1 R=9(18) I=9 E=5 L=3(12) L=3(12) A=1

We can see that someone with this name has a nice 1 and 3 balance going on. Mariella likely has a good deal of initiative and social spark. She finds it easy to connect with others and there is a charm and grace to her mannerisms. She is likely proactive and good with responsibility. She likely has resourceful and intelligent friends who enrich her mentality in some way. She may sometimes talk herself out of things or downplay her capabilities. She prefers to be part of a group although she can handle things well on her own. Very high social energy. Likely to have a relaxed demeanor. People like talking to her. Could easily find herself being a manager of some sort. Would make a good marketing expert. MARIELLA=8 She will need to learn how to be more consistent as her energy initially may be scattered and she change plans often. She will also learn to be more private.

Danielle - Common name that I wanted to use. I had a friend with this name. Met her at work. Let's get into the general name of this person though. D=4 A=1 N=5(14) I=9 E=5 L=3(12) L=3(12) E=5. Someone with this name is likely to be fun loving and even funny, just like Mariella above. There could be moments where Danielle would be a little shy, but that is temporary as people with this name has very fluffy and upbeat energy. They are likely to be big on having a good time and socializing. Danielle and Mariella likely have big social networks physically, but Danielle may be the one that parties a little harder in this equation. She is always focused on where the most fun is and that is where she will go. She likes to laugh and would rather live on the bright side of things rather than worry and be sad. She won't handle sad situations how typical people may expect her to. Danielle likely has more drama in her life than Mariella, but it's more than likely linked to pettiness more than anything. Sex and fun is a highlight for Danielle. If she don't do nothing else, she's going to attend a fun event or create it. You may notice that every Danielle you know loves to be on the scene or it seems from your view that she is always on the scene. Day and night events, it doesn't matter. She would likely value friends that supports this lifestyle. It can seem like she is hard to catch up with if you are more on the controlled side. This party lifestyle is a highlight, but it isn't the end all be all which is why Danielle will change. Danielle=8 She would have to learn to take life more seriously and to smell the roses more. She will need to learn how to slow down and make sensible choices. Double 5 and double 3 energy can make someone too impulsive for their own good.

Hope you enjoyed. You can now do your own or comment and I can keep this thing going by replying and linking things together all with just a first name. This is fun and simple, especially when you dont know people's chart info.

[schemmentis]

La Cosa Nostra - Pt. 24

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12 / Part 13 / Part 14 / Part 15 / Part 16 / Part 17 / Part 18 / Part 19 / Part 20 / Part 21 / Part 22 / Part 23

Cowritten w/ @janeyseymour

Summary: Your new life continues...but the past has a funny way of coming back.

WC: 3.1k

Melissa keeps her word. She’s able to keep Lena with her mother while everything gets sorted out. And when it comes down to it, Lena and her mother end up staying in your guest room for a bit until they can get back on their feet.

So, the names Melissa and Y/N slowly fade away and become a thing of the past for the time being. Only when you’re positive that the other family is out of the house do you call each other by your real names.

After a few months, your girls are trying to convince Lena’s mother to stay with the four of you. Even though you’d arranged it so Lena had even gone to summer camp with them, and it had been months since that trip on top. With a bit of savings, and a few favors from one of the real estate guys you know, they’ve found their own little townhouse not too far from yours. You ensure they know the space is always there for them if it’s needed but you don’t beg like your daughters. You and Melissa have to bribe them with a movie weekend to get them to stop pouting once Lena and her mother officially move out. Despite the fact they still see Lena every day at school and spend plenty afternoons afterward between both of your houses.

By then, it’s the end of summer. Your wife has stolen the laptop you share for late nights putting together her lesson plan for the new year. Thankfully, this is your job’s slow season. You gladly hand primary possession to Melissa, taking over dinner and other evening chores in her stead so she doesn’t have to worry about anything that isn’t getting everything straightened out for the new school year. You knew she hated feeling unprepared, especially when it came to teaching.

It wasn’t the same as the restaurant. That brief glimmer of a dream come true that you try not to think about because of all the other things it was wrapped up in. It isn’t the same but you still see that spark of passion, even if it isn’t as bright for this profession as her previous. You see it all the same and smile with every new school year for the reminder of it.

You take a rare Monday half-day the day the school year starts. It used to be because you had to in order to ensure the girls were to school on time. One less thing for your wife to worry about that day even if it was in the same building. Plus, you got to sneak a little extra time with her yourself after seeing the girls to class.

Now, it’s out of habit though you’ve switched to taking the afternoon instead of the morning off. Especially since the girls try to speed walk away from the car that morning before you or Melissa can get out of it to avoid being seen with you. Like their friends don’t know who you are. In particular who Mrs. Vinci the second grade teacher is.

“Okay, bye!” Your wife shouts once she’s stepped out of the car herself. “Have a great first day! Mommy loves you!!”

You see the cringe of two pairs of shoulders as they duck inside while you step to Melissa’s side. “You did that one on purpose.” You accuse.

“No idea what you mean, Amore.” She murmurs as she loops her arm with yours to start walking in together. The smirk on her lips tells you she knows exactly what you mean and it very much was on purpose.

“Don’t torture them for not sayin’ goodbye at lunch, huh?” You suggest as you round the corner to head down the hall for her classroom. “It’s too early in the year for me to referee at dinner.”

“Honey, you’re refereeing in this family year round and you know that.” She retorts. Her arm unhooks from yours to pull out her keys to unlock the door that she props open. 

You lean against the doorway as she crosses to her desk. Her mug of coffee sat down along with her purse. “I could bring you lunch instead?” You offer a more tempting solution. “Sandwiches from your favorite deli? That’s a good start to the school year, huh?”

“You wanna renew our vows?” Melissa jokes in place of a yes. Still, she grins at you a moment later when she glances up from organizing her desk. “What’d I say? Refereeing twenty four seven, Amore. Without even meanin’ to.” She winks before turning her attention back to getting ready for the day.

You take what you know to be an absolute joke to heart though. “We never did officially get married as Raphaela and Saoirse.”

“I was joking, my love,” your wife chuckles softly. She sees the way that you look at her though, a softness that is only reserved for her. “Maybe.”

“I have to head to work,” you kiss her gently. “But you have a great first day, and please… don’t embarrass our girls. Please.”

“I make no such promises,” Melissa tells you earnestly. Then her lips quirk upwards. “I swear, all I do is breathe sometimes, and Cat flips her shit.”

“She takes after you,” you remind her. “Rosie definitely takes more after me.”

“That she does.”

You press one last kiss to her lips before you head out to your own job. 

It’s a slow day for you, and one of your clients ends up having the last name ‘Howard’. It takes you back years as your mind is flooded with memories. You wonder what they’re up to. Is Barbara still teaching at Abbott? Is Gerald still a senator? That gets you thinking about what the rest of your group is up to. After going down the rabbit hole and being relieved that both sets of parents are still alive and well, you check a few of the names of those in La Cosa Nostra. Dominic and Tommy are both dead. Dominic and Tommy have been dead for years. You swallow harshly at that news.

Meanwhile, Melissa is greeting her students at the door as they come in for the first day with their parents. It's all normal first day jitters until green eyes land on two figures she’s seen before… and not in New York.

Your wife coughs awkwardly. “Danik? Shaw?”

Two pairs of eyes dart right to her. “M- Raphaela?”

“I- oh my God.” Then she smirks and punches Shaw lightly. “I see you finally grew a pair and asked her out.”

“We’ve been married for the last… pretty much as soon as you left,” Shaw rubs his arm in the place that your wife playfully smacked him. “Had Frankie not too much later.”

“Frankie? I have a Frankie in my class this year,” Melissa stutters out.

“It’s funny,” Grace chuckles softly. “We saw the name of his teacher, but we didn’t think it could possibly be you.”

“It- it is,” she says softly. “Hey… I have to get to the kids, but… we should meet soon and discuss what’s happened in the past eight years.”

“We should,” both agents say at the same time. 

When the afternoon finally arrives, you swiftly turn off your computer. You’d ended up not getting nearly enough done. Instead, you’d gotten lost in following all those old ties. Seeing what presence of members of the Family you could track down. Most of them lead you to obituaries. It had only been in the last hour you’d be at the office that you had brought yourself to actually search for members of your family. You find a small smattering of them online; sharing photos from gatherings and holidays and birthdays. 

What had entirely stopped you short had been coming across a memorial post. For you, Melissa, and your daughters. For some reason, you hadn’t even considered it would be your own memorial you’d run across even as you had done so for many others you knew in your old life. You look at the poster, closing your eyes briefly when you see it’s Kristen Marie. If Melissa finds out about this you know you won’t be able to keep her from booking a flight to Philadelphia. Not if her sister is posting things like this, remembering her every year publicly on plenty of different occasions. This was the type of thing a Schemmenti sister pretended to not care enough to do. The fact that Kristen Marie has, and multiple times over a near decade, speaks volumes. 

It would be one thing if it had only been your daughters. You knew Melissa wouldn’t pitch a fight over that. She’d agree the girls should be remembered. Completely innocent just like they still were. You know though if your wife sees her own face and the caption her sister has put sharing how much she misses her it will be the last straw on the homesickness you’ve both been fighting ever since you left. 

From Kristen Marie’s post, you’d looked through her profile and clicked through to Mickey’s. Mickey who had gotten out only a few months after you’d ‘died.’ Mickey who’s profile is nearly entirely Melissa, you and your twins. The only exception is posts from Sunday dinner of everyone together. Even then there’s always a mention of the four of you.

You don’t dare click on the profile you see for Barbara. Relieved when that had been when you’d glanced to the clock to find it time to go. A quick rush to your wife’s favorite deli to pick up lunch and you’re walking back into the school. You’re certain you’re going to become an honorary TA for the rest of the afternoon but you don’t mind.

You knock on the doorway before you walk back into Melissa’s classroom. “Lunch as promised.” You say as you place her sandwich on her desk, pointedly over the papers she’d been trying to grade despite being on her break. It’s only when she looks up to glare at you for it that you steal a kiss, winking as you move to pull up your own chair.

“Thank you, Amore.” Melissa says as she unwraps both your lunches while you pull the chair over. “You’re never gonna guess who the parents of one of my kids this year is.”

“Don’t tell me it’s the youngest kid of that one mom from a couple years ago that was an absolute bitch and thought you were wrong for failing her daughter?”

Melissa’s lips form into a tight line. “Nope.”

“Who?”

“Danik and Shaw. Their son Frankie is in my class.”

“What?” Your eyes nearly pop out of your head.

“They dropped him off this morning and couldn’t believe it either.”

“Wh- how? Why are they in New York?”

“I don’t know,” she says quietly. “We didn’t get a chance to chat, but I told them we should meet at some point to discuss everything.”

“Oh god,” you groan softly. “Well… you’ll never guess what I did today at work.”

“What’s that?” your wife’s brow furrows as she takes a bite out of her sandwich.

“I…” You take a deep breath. “I went back to our past lives. Looked up people who were real important to us from Philly.”

“Y-you did?”

“I don’t know what came over me,” you whisper softly as a few tears bloom to your eyes. “Our parents are still alive. Kristen Marie is still alive and kicking. Mickey’s Facebook is pretty much dedicated to us… I didn’t have the courage to check on Barb’s facebook, but she seems to be doing well. I found our memorial pages. It was…” you sniffle. “And uh,” you scratch the back of your head. “Dom and Tommy are gone. Have been for years.”

“They’re gone?” Melissa’s face pales just slightly. You know how much they meant to her, even if they almost always put you through hell.

You nod silently. “Died in prison.”

“C-can you show me their obituaries?”

“At home, love. For now, can we just… If we keep talking about it, I’m going to keep crying,” you request softly. “Almost everyone from Cosa Nostra is gone. And we can look into it later tonight… when the girls are asleep.”

She obliges your request, reaching a hand over to settle gently on your thigh. She squeezes it softly, letting you know silently that she’s here for you.

Despite your request to not speak of it, you continue to have tears fall down your cheeks as you break down quietly. You tend to break down a bit more than she does- you blame the girls and the fact that you gave birth to them for that.

“I miss our old lives,” you whisper, voice cracking. “I miss my mam, and my dad… I miss Babs.”

“I know,” she replies just as quietly. “I thought it would get easier.”

“I wish… I wish we could go back.”

“I do too,” Melissa tells you. “But like you’ve told me before: the life that we built here is just as beautiful, and not nearly as messy. It’s what we had to do to keep our girls safe.”

She goes on to say more, but the bell rings to signify that lunch is over. You quickly finish your lunches before she’s standing at the door and waiting for her little gremlins to come in.

As soon as you see Frankie, you know who he is. He is almost a spitting image of his father, right down to the goofy smile that you only got to see a few times while he was trying to keep spirits light for your girls in the hospital. And that… that’s something special that tugs at your heartstrings. 

You turn back around under the cover of saying goodbye one more time. Something you’d be guilty of anyway but today you have other motivation too. “When they pick him up, see if you can find out when they’re free. Maybe invite ‘em to the house? We can have dinner when the girls stay at Lena’s next.” You say before kissing her one last time then letting her get back to teaching the second half of the day. You meant to offer to help her out if you could but after the conversation over lunch, and your mild breakdown, you figure its best you take a little breathing room. For you both.

You force yourself not to go home. You know if you do you’ll just go right back to digging and you can’t let yourself now. At least tonight Melissa will be looking with you and her stronger willpower can get you to stop better than just you on your own. You wouldn’t have stopped at the office if you hadn’t been leaving early today.

You avoid the hallway where you know the middle school’s classes are to ensure your girls don’t see you. You’re not trying to get a lecture about being embarrassing tonight over dinner. You duck into the library, finding one of your old favorites among the shelves to get lost in for the hundredth time. Which you do, thankfully. Your mind keeps distracted until you hear the dismissal bell. You take the time to finish the page you were on to avoid arriving to pick up either your daughters or your wife too quickly. Any of the three of them would be suspicious, especially knowing you had the afternoon off today.

Carefully, you return the book to the proper section of the shelf before you step out of the library once more. You make your way to get the girls first. They don’t have any of their extracurriculars today and you don’t want them to end up just standing outside when you’re already here. Still, you decide to wait halfway down the hall instead of going to the door. The potential for a lecture is still on your mind. You wait only a few minutes before both Cat and Rosie exit their homeroom with Lena and some of their other friends. All of which greet you politely and with smiles but still Cat takes your hand to hurry you back down the hallway to get you on your way to pick up Melissa before you can manage more than a hello.

You roll your eyes where neither of the girls can see though you don’t fight. Not that you really want to, considering it is your wife’s classroom you’re once again returning to today. 

“Hi, Ma.” Cat and Rosie greet her at the doorway in unison. 

You don’t think either of them see it but you still pick up on the miniscule jolt at the nickname. “There’s my three favorite ladies. Gimmie just a minute to get my stuff together and I’ll be ready.”

You turn back toward the hallway at a tap at your leg. “‘Scuse me,” A tiny voice says to you, stepping past you in the room you’ve made in the doorway once you’ve turned.

“Ms. Vinci, my mommy said to give you this note.” The little boy says as he nearly runs into your wife’s legs in his hurry to get to her to complete the task. 

“Thank you, Frankie. Tell her I’ll talk to her soon, okay? And don’t run in the hallway on your way back to her and your dad.”

“We’re getting reading time tomorrow, right?”

Your wife laughs, nodding. “Yes, I promise, now go before you worry your parents, sweetheart.”

In anticipation you press against the doorway to give little Frankie enough room to zoom past you in the lead up to his sprint down the hall. Your eyes follow him just to make sure he’s safe. Just to meet the gaze of Agent Danik, or Shaw? You’ll have to ask her when you properly catch up. She waves once before leading Frankie out the front door of the school.

You turn back around to see Melissa’s gaze on the paper that Frankie handed her. Her face flickers through several emotions before she jumpstarts back up and continues packing her bags.

You cross the room and pick up a few things to help assist her. It earns you a gentle kiss on the cheek.

“Alright, my loves,” she finally sighs once she tucks the paper away. “Let’s head home. Mommy’s making lasagna tonight.”

As you all climb into the car, you glance back to ensure that your girls are distracted. Of course they are, both with headphones on and drowning out the world around them.

“What did the note say?” you ask as you squeeze her hand gently.

“Danik said we should meet them at their house on Saturday. Gave me the address and everything,” Melissa says through a tight lip.

“Should we?” You hope she nods, and she does.

Once you’re home, the girls fly up to their rooms to start on homework. They grumble about the fact that it’s ridiculous that they have homework on the first day of school. You’re inclined to agree.

[rosie-rosem]

tweeting hearts !

masterlist !

❥ pairing: nonidol!sunghoon x fem!reader

❥ genre: fluff, angst, smau, friends to lovers

❥ summary: y/n is a "funny" girl who loves keeping people updated on twitter! She has a huge crush on sunghoon and secretly tweets about him too. will sunghoon ever feel the same way?

❥ featuring: all enhypen members, yunjin and eunchae from le sserafim & jiung from p1harmony.

❥ schedule: I will be trying to update every week! (however many times a week)

❥ warnings mentions of food, manipulation (not by sunghoon), toxic ex, bad humor, crying, panic attack, grammar mistakes, let me know if I'm forgetting any! NONE OF THE IMAGES (OF PEOPLE) ARE MINE!

❥ taglist: just drop an ask to be added.

❥ start: july 6, 2023 | end: tbd

profiles: the girls | the boys

1 > what's happening?

2 > younglings?!?

3 > worried

4 > seriously??

5 > beef with chaemi

6 > i only meow for you

7 > sugar mommy

8 > shy era?

9 > awkward

10 > the view

11 > CONFESS?!

12 > naur way

13 > noona saranghaeyo (w/ written)

14 > i promise

15 > even the word corny is corny

16 > night love

17 > ex's, trios and children

18 > baby fever

19 > drop the deets.

20 > sunghoonie r u shy?

21 > shut up (w/ written)

22 > answer

23 > you’re okay (w/ written)

24 > pretty (w/ written)

25 > bro got hot

26 > embarrassing

27 >

+more

© rosie-rosem

a/n: I'm attempting a smau! ik it'll probably suck but I wanted to give it a try because it seemed fun!

[fishsticksloser]

hii so this is kinda like. self indulgent 😭 but could you write platonic spiderverse headcanons w a gn spider-reader who’s 12?(got bitten at around 9-10)

hopefully that’s ok, if not it’s fine tho sorry 😭😭

Young!Spiderperson

Spiderverse + gn!reader

Warnings: slight angst, platonic fluff, pretty short

A/N: I'm so tired. I wish I could sleep... We don't need sleep... We only need Astarion... Also before you all yell at me... Noir was bitten at 16 in the comics and says he's been spiderman for 3 years in ItSV meaning he's 19 then 20/21 in AtSV. Same with Hobie, bitten at 16 and says he's been spiderman for 3 years making him 19-20

Miles

He was only 14 when he was bitten

So he's very understanding and wants to help in any way he can

He's thankful he had Peter to help him learn how to be Spider-Man

He can't imagine being 9/10 and doing it alone

Miles has had a fair share of difficult times

But being so young and going through that

Terrifying to him

He will beg his parents to adopt you

Pav

A lot like Miles

He cares so much

He's such a good listener too

And he wants to do everything he can to make your job easier

He was bitten at 14/15, so he's fairly knowledgeable on how hard this is

So never once has he yelled at you for how you performed

Pav spends a lot of time with you

He thinks you're so amazing and he tells you that every time he sees you

He might be your number one fan... Might there might be someone who has him beat

Gwen

She was bitten at 12/13

So the fact that you've already been spiderman for a few years just...

Breaks her heart

It was hard enough at the age she was bitten

She can't imagine having that pressure, those powers

And still be in elementary school

She decides to help you

Not just learn how to use your powers (cause you've been doing it for 2-3 years at this point)

But she decides to be your confidant

She wants you to come to her if you need help or guidance

Noir

He will adopt you

In a heartbeat, are you kidding?

Did you see how quickly he basically adopted Peni?

Yeah... he basically adopted a 14 year old while he was 19

But being so close to Peni, he understood the termoil she went through after she was bitten at 8

This man will fight for you

Tooth and nail

Especially since the spider goddess won't let him die...

He will do whatever it takes to protect and empower you

#1 dad young dad

Hobie

I said someone might have Pav beat for your number one fan...

And this man here might have him beat

He's a punk

Are you kidding?

He is astonished by you

He had his own problems being 16 and a crime fighting rockstar in his universe

But you...

You were just a "wee thing"

He is your biggest fan

Constantly encouraging you to do better

Be better

Be amazing

He is definitely upset that you had so much on your shoulders so young

He wishes he could go back and take it so you could be a kid

Miguel

As if anyone could be more upset by what has happened to you

Losing his daughter at such a young age

He was outraged that you were put under this

He makes you a little escape at HQ

He absolutely builds forts with you

Whatever you want

He just wants to make you happy

You didn't deserve this

Really none of them did, but at 9/10?

You never got to experience what it was like to be a normal kid

Peter

Dad #2 on this list

Peter adopts you instantly, on sight

He's 100% 'kidnapping' you

He treats you like his own kid

You wanna spend the night at his?

He doesn't even have to ask MJ cause she'll agree

Smores, popcorn, Kool aid, you name it he'll get it

He wants you to experience real kid things without all the pressure

Cause you don't deserve that

You shouldn't have had to go through that

And he plans to make you feel loved and appreciated every day of his life

[lycankeyy]

Okay here's the whole thing I filled out with boyf in-character enjoy his one total braincell if he's lucky. I'm putting zero effort into formatting this bc tumblr is glitchy on my phone blank template is here

(cw: sexual humor. also a bunch of intentional typos and gratuitous swearing)

-

1. Okay, first question: what’s your name, age, and gender?

- they call me boyfriend im 19 and i sap the gender out of the music

2. How would you describe yourself, personality-wise?

- fuckkk man idk. im p chill i think ig im pretty cool. pretty swag pretty gamer

3. What’s a typical day like for you?

- welll I wake up at like. 11 usually at earliest and I hang out w one of my partners sometimes I watch movies w em or work on music. not a lot going on usually

4. How do you wind down at the end of the day? Do you even wind down?

- most of the time i literally just wait until i crash out sometimes gf and peeks gotta drag me to bed lol

5. What is your earliest memory?

- UHHHHH oh god uhhh. I think. When I was like five we went to a festival or smth and we went on one of those twirly things and I made my dad spin the thing so hard I threw up LMAO

6. What is/was your relationship with your parents?

- i mean p good i think but we dont rly tlak anymore thats mostly my fault tho

7. What do you do when you’re bored?

- succumb to the madness mostly

8. Do you regret anything you’ve done?

- i mean not like currently

9. Do you dress to be functional or fashionable?

- bro i wear the same exact fucking outfit every day to be honest with you lol. It's not like I'm fuckin going anywhere

10. Who are your best friends? How did you meet them?

- DUUUDE assuming my partners don't count gotta shout out my man darnell we've been workin on a collab ep recently it goes hard as fuckkkkk. we met back in the stupid therapy program back in middle school he introduced me to pico n nene

11. Have any siblings? If so, what is your relationship?

- yea got a big sister and a lil bro. they're both sweet but kinda clueless tbh. technically got other stuff goin on too but im kinda worried that ill get like the government on my ass if i talk abt it

12. What is your job? Is it tiring or difficult?

- closest thinf ive got to a job is music ig and nah. really wouldn't rather be doing anything else even if it payed more tbh. when I get burnt out I wanna die but thafs not a big deal lmao

13. When you’re going through a rough time, do you seek help or consolation from others?

- on a scale of liek paper cut to nearly died how rough are we talking

14. How easy is it for others to gain your trust?

- ive been told im pretty trusting but i feel like any person whos meant to hurt me was pretty upfront abt it so ┐(´∀｀)┌

15. What is your sexuality, if you don’t mind me asking?

- all the time all the time

16. Do you have a significant other? What are they like?

- "a" singular. lol. lmao even. bros asking if I got one singular partner lmao try two bitch and thyere the best most important people in the world

17. Have you ever lost a loved one?

- not like perminently

18. How often do you act on impulse? Does it ever backfire?

- lsiten if i do it all the time then like statisicly it only backfires like 40% of the time okay

19. Do you believe in ghosts?

- I believe in everyone bro

20. How about aliens?

- aliens are hisyorically very mean to me but ig i can just then believe that they can be better people. or aliens

21. What traits do you value the most in others?

- uhhh probably like being just nice ig? idk i think it can take a lot more effort than people think to be considerate and stuff I appreciate when people are nice even if they have a reason not to be

22. Do you dream often? What are your dreams like?

- i used to not to but somethings happened and now I get them all the time. don't really want to talk about it they're mostly just weird

23. Are you a light or heavy sleeper? Do you sleep in?

- my partners say im such a heavy sleeper that one time i slept through gf falling off the bed in the middle of the night but I was asleep so I can't cofnirm

24. Okay, this is a bit personal, but… Have you ever (uh) “done the do”?

- dude like u wouldn't believe

25. Do you have any pets?

- nah but I think it would be cool to have a guinea pig they seem chill and I appreciate their vibes

26. Ever been drunk before? How often do you drink?

- i try not to toooooooo much but i think i have a hard time telling when too much is too much. dont tell my parents

27. Are you respectful to authority figures?

- they only have as much authority as you give them. manipulate a landlord today

28. What kinds of movies do you like you watch?

- https://youtu.be/HgjyQ0_coJo?si=L5Bzhey5cxaoNpWU

29. Do you have any guilty pleasures?

- ██████ █████ █ ███████ ████ ███ ████ ███████ ███ ████ ████████████ ██ ███ ███ ████ ██ one time nene found it in my dresser and I almost DIED wait was this question not about sex stuff

30. What would you say is the happiest memory of your life?

- ohh thats hard uhh. happiest is hard to qualify i think. I think I'm happiest whenever I think abt waking up next to my partners

31. How about your worst memory?

- thats a good question

32. What did you aspire to be when you were young? Did that dream change as you grew up?

- i didn't think I'd be fuckign anythang

33. How far would you be willing to go to get what you want?

- u gotta quantify what I want here tbh. is it like a chocolate bar or one billion dollars. cuz id kill someone for a billion dollars. honestly i might also kill someone for a chocolate bar but like not as badly

34. What is sure to ruin your day?

- idk nearly dying again probably

35. Do you have any nervous habits?

- uhhh sometimes i mess with my hair and when i get rly upset i pull at it til it hurts. i used to scratch my face a lot when i was upset too but it freaks ppl out so i try not to if i can help it

36. Play video games often?

- i tryyyyy but i get distracted so fast i play a game and im like oh shit this reminds me of another thing i was gonna play n then i go play that and then I never FINISH ANYTHIGN

37. What kind of things do you laugh at?

- https://youtu.be/47EOSLWu-EI?si=kuzPv2Vndl91Oj3C

38. Favorite genre of music?

- BROOOO ok gonna be basic as shit and say breakcore. also a huge fan of speedcore and drill & bass but breakcore is my home. i wishhh it wasn't called this but my favorite like subgenre of breakcore is probs lolicore not for any fuckin weird reason but just bc the way the vocals are usually mixed scratches my brain sooooooo fuking good. listen to various types of ads by loli in early 20s and youll get it. i fucking love experimental breakcore my favorite album rossz csillag alatt született mixes breakcore+dr&b w classical and it's sooooo fucking good it's SO good i need to learn more fuckin instrument plug ins so I can make shit like that. in general i just love music that feels like it's fuckin drilling it's way into youre brain and rewiring it i want the music to fuckin labotomize me fr

39. What do you think your spirit animal would be if you had one?

- idk maybe a rat i like rats. dude imagine if i was a rat like ritz we could have cheese together. we can do that anyway but it would be more awesome

40. Have an accent of any kind?

- yea autism

41. Chess or checkers?

- checkers i have no idea how to play chess but it sounds convoluted as fuk

42. Do you feel sentimentality toward a particular object?

- i love my laptop even if I get a new computer and this thing breaks completely im keeping this laptop ily laptop

43. Are you generally pretty secretive, or are you an open book?

- im like accidentally secretive i dont even try like wtf do you mean im supposed to talk about shit

44. What are you most embarrassed about?

- i feel like this was addressed in the nene thing

45. What are your deepest fears?

- have you ever seen that fuckin brony stuff where people get teleported to pony world as horses gf is obsessed with that kinda thing but that's TERRIFYING if i woke up as a horse id fuckin die of a heart attack

46. How desperate would you have to be to lie to, steal from, injure, or murder another person? Do you do any of those things regularly?

- i like the implication that i would admit to murdering ppl on a regular basis

47. Do you have any scars? How did you get them?

- it's so fucked up i got this scar on my face and it's so bad bc I don't even scar that easy like i get into fights my entire life but i only got one scar just bc some weeb tried to kill me. like ok

48. Say someone has mistreated you in some form. Would you immediately lose your temper, hold a grudge, or simply let it go?

- you wouldnt believe my epic power to do all of those simaltaneusly

49. How do you deal with physical and mental pain?

- max volume noise nothing can hurt me if the Loud

50. What is your ideal place to live?

- never thought abt it tbh ig anywhere with my partners

51. What was your childhood like?

- just 18 years of stupid therapy programs and stupid special ed classes and ppl telling me how to think and how to act and like I was 4 years old forever i don't careeee

52. What is your favorite kind of weather?

- i think snow is pretty

53. How important to you is friendship? What about romance?

- i think they're both pretty great but idk i feel like urself should be most important bc idk shit happens and ppl leave so if you dont like yourself youre just gonna be stuck with some miserable loser who doesnt have any friends as ur only company

54. Have any disabilities, weaknesses, or allergies?

- i feel like in a hypothetical situation i would be pretty weak to godzilla

55. What’s your favorite thing to eat?

- SPICY FOOOOOOOD my spice tolerance fucks hard i will drink hot sauce. right now holdbon

56. Do you have kids? If not, do you picture yourself ever having them?

- could you fucking imagine.

57. How well can you sing?

- idk but i like it

58. Are you particularly confident? Does your confidence level change if less people are around?

- if nobody got me i know i got me

59. Do you like shopping?

- delivery apps were invented for a reason

60. How do you interact with strangers?

- tbh i usually just tune out anyone that's not talking to me LMAO

61. Have you ever been betrayed by someone you loved?

- not like perminently

62. If you could change anything about yourself, what would it be?

- don't like this question

63. If you could meet anyone from the past or future, who would it be?

- fuckkkkk my gf isn't home rn can I pick her

64. If a genie granted you three wishes, what would they be?

- money bigass house and then I wouldn't use the last one so we could just vibe forver

65. Do you like attention?

- ask pico

66. Are you glad I’ve run out of questions to ask?

- ig bc im puttin off chores ily though

[doctorjuvenile]

Things from WtA The Book of Hungry Names you should know pt. 2

pt. 1 here

I'm about to start my fourth playthrough lol

5. The coordinates Daphne sends you for investigating the Pattern Line are a real location in Northampton, Massachusetts.

> I’m willing to let you condescend to me if you’re willing to help me out CrestFolder180IQ Your terms are acceptable. CrestFolder180IQ Meet me at 42°25'50.3"N 72°40'49.3"W at 10:30 PM.

Right at the tip of this path. (sooo IRL Garou meetup when?)

6. By my best estimates, the game takes place over the course of 2022-2024.

Now, the game plays pretty loose with exact dates, and I'm sure the ambiguity is intended. What we know for sure though is that Book of Hungry Names takes place over two and a half years (from beginning to epilogue).

Nonetheless, because I'm obsessed, I'm basing my assumption off of some strong hints:

The game definitely takes place after the peak of the COVID-19 pandemic, since Stormcat literally refers to it once you're in the second half of the game (foreshadowing the Jigsaw Plague chapter)

Will Northampton be ground zero for the next pandemic? Even I do not know.

2) Honestly, my biggest clue here are the years Melodie and Harmonie graduated high school (2016 and 2013 respectively), and the fact that she is 23 when you retrieve her from Ashfield.

Harmonie Palys graduated Berkshire Regional High School in 2013. Her sister, Melodie, graduated in 2016.

Melodie, who is twenty-three, angrily sips her Kir Pamplemousse.

Going off of the North American education system (where I myself graduated high school in 2014, and am presently around 27 years old), and assuming no skipped or repeated years, Melodie should be about 25 by the game's epilogue, which must take place in 2024. Harmonie would be 28 if she were still alive today.

Working backwards, that means it's 2022 in the first half of the game (where Melodie is stated to be 23). The timeline just works perfectly.

3) In the second half of the game, Nin will "talk your ear off about the new Blood Ceremony album." The album (The Old Ways Remain) dropped in 2023, thus further perfectly fitting in with the 2022-2024 timeline.

7. Speaking of guessing character's ages, I have a good idea of the rest of them...

Elton: I tried guessing Elton's age and he's anywhere from 24-26 over the course of the game to 29-31. My clues here are how you can find a picture of him and Katherine in a newspaper after arriving in Northampton early on and researching in the library. The photo states he's 19, and the photo itself is "maybe five to ten years old."

...the picture is labeled "Linus Harrowman, 46, Elton Dey, 19, and Katherine Aslanian, 20, have opposed the Broad Brook expansion, which would--" Then it turns into a more randomized babble. The photo is in color, the newspaper maybe five or ten years old.

Player Character: I am certain your character starts the game at 20 years old. The ID Daphne gives you shows your real age, which is below the legal drinking age in the U.S. (i.e. 21), but by the time a year passes in-game, you are now able to drink legally.

[Early game:] To your considerable irritation, the birthdate on the ID is the same year as your real birthday, which means you can't get into most bars. [Second half of game, one year later:] Armed with your Massachusetts State ID that finally says you're 21...

You, Podge, and Nin: Regardless, the whole pack drinks together in the epilogue at the last Hog Throne show, implying your entire pack is now at least 21 (legal American drinking age). So by this point, I think PC is 22, and Podge and Nin are legally 21, meaning they would be about 19 or 20 at the start of the game.

8. Intelligence isn't just tied to your book-smarts or occult knowledge, it also influences whether you can catch pop cultural/musical references.

I mean, my first two characters (galliard/December and theurge/October) had good-to-excellent INT (3-5pts), so the text described Elton's Mezzanine shirt, Highlander halloween costume, Podge being dressed up as the girl from the "Everyday Is Like Sunday" music video, Nin's Sophie Scholl hoodie, etc all by name or direct reference.

But I noticed with my third ahroun (January) character, whom I deliberately kept at 1 INT the entire game, that she didn't catch ANY of that -- the Mezzanine t-shirt is a "white t-shirt with a black insect scrawled across half its surface," she thinks Elton is dressed as the Scarlet Pimpernel, that Nin is maybe wearing a hoodie with her own face on it, etc. (You can get some pretty funny extra dialogue out of being so clueless.)

This makes sense when you consider that your Academics and Intelligence tutor in this game is a badass art teacher who used to be in the '90s demoscene.

[bennydunbar]

Figuring out YB's Background probably idfk our head hurts

Note: This is all just our midnight ramblings, don't take this to heart (plus we havent been able to fully play the game ourselves so we mightve missed something) also I don't know why the pics here keep messing themselves up

Age/Education/Career

We know that Goth! YB was between 19-20 years old and he's around 20-30 now. Now stay w me and be delulu w us for a second here pls hear us out

I'm gonna take a wild guess that he graduated high-school at the ripe age of 19 probably bc he most definitely is a bright student but he tends to stir troubles. Spade! YB is him right before he lost his hair from testing a bad shampoo — we'll cover his possible education/career history later. Then we have present YB.

That begs the question.. Where does this YB comes in? And why is he wearing such a fancy outfit?

I think this YB is either younger Spade! YB or the same age as Spade! YB. I'm thinking that right after graduating high-school, YB goes to college as a business practices major (Of course, he's not in college in this Ask because he's stuck in a void but LET'S SAY THAT HE DID GO TO COLLEGE)

Now I checked out how long a full time course of business practices could take — which is 3 years. That adds 3 years to YB's age, so he's 23 years old now. This also explains how fancy YB looks up there! Isn't he just adorable there? These outfits are maybe his work outfit, much slicker and smarter compared to his casual one; despite his shitty taste in fashion, corporate dresscode saved him.

Being a product tester doesn't exactly require any specific educational achievement, just as long as you know what you're supposed to do. At least, that's what Google tells me. Of course, building an audience as a vlogger isn't an easy job either. I'm not sure if he's a full time product tester, but I think he might've stayed with his internship company. He probably started product testing as a side job. Now everybody look away I'm gonna be down bad for a bit here

I think he started with testing sex toys to quickly gather an audience

Okay before I get dragged for this 😭😭 I know that YB was asexual before he met YN. But who's to say that he didn't use his lack of interest in sex to profit from it? To him it's strictly work, he doesn't see anything wrong with testing these kind of products but he knows that they sell like hot cakes.

So YB worked in an office for 2 years, before quitting and pursuing his career as a product tester. That finally makes him 25 years old. Maybe in a year or so, he meets Daniel. Some time before his eyes lay on YN, where his obsession began.

I'm saying he's 26 years old

Thank you for coming to my TED talk, here's how much he makes

Signing out,

— D & N