#or do they play along for the moment? hoping to take over the farm or steal their non-meat food to survive?

[terrak0]

Random What If idea: the motel group is already well aware of the St. John’s and what they do when Andy and Danny approach them for a deal for gas in exchange for food.

They had recently run into Jolene after she snuck too close to the motel while trying to spy on them and steal Clementines hat. In the midst of her crazy ramblings, they get the gist of the situation from her— there’s bandits and dairy farmers living in the woods nearby, and the dairy farmers are cannibals who pick off survivors to trade as meat... and both groups have been aware of the motor inn for a while now.

[saphronethaleph]

Sibling Comparisons

Leia rose from her bed, confused, as the door hissed open.

Something seemed off about the situation, she could feel it. But she didn’t want to tip her hand – and a moment’s thought turned up an answer.

“Aren’t you a little short for a stormtrooper?” she asked, thinking about minimum-height requirements that had been instituted in the days of transition from the clone army and never been rescinded.

“What?” the ‘trooper replied. “Oh, the uniform.”

He took off his helmet. “My name’s Luke Skywalker, I’m here to rescue you.”

Leia did a double-take.

“What is Kenobi thinking?” she asked. “He brought my brother here?”

Luke practically fell over.

“Brother!?” he asked. “But – you’re a princess-”

“Yes, yes, excellent cover identity, sheer audacity,” Leia replied. “Nobody would suspect the Senator for Alderaan, and if you’re going by Skywalker then the same idea must be in play for you. Where’s Kenobi? Is he going by Ben or Obi-Wan these days?”

“We were coming to Alderaan,” Luke said. “Ben’s off shutting down the tractor beam so we can leave – look, what do you mean, brother?”

“We can talk about that later,” Leia replied, striding past her brother to the door of the cell. “What’s your exfiltration plan?”

“My what?” Luke asked. “...we’ve got your R2 unit?”

“Hey, farmboy!” a voice called from up the detention block corridor, accompanied by the sound of blasters firing. “We’ve got company!”

Leia sighed. “Where’s R2-D2?” she asked. “He should be able to get us out of this.”

“About… what, ten floors above us?” Luke guessed, then a wookiee joined them along with someone else in stormtrooper armour.

“We’re not getting out that way,” the man said.

“I don’t suppose you brought a spare blaster for me?” Leia asked. “Is there another way out?”

“Let me check with Threepio,” Luke said, reaching for his comlink. “Seriously? You’re my sister?”

“Right now I’m mostly hoping I’m better at planning than you,” Leia shot back, as blaster bolts flashed down the corridor.

“...well, that worked, eventually,” Leia muttered, brushing herself off as they exited the trash compactor. “Which is a marked improvement on your way of getting us out of here, I have to point out.”

“I’m still waiting on an explanation,” Luke protested. “How can you be my sister?”

“What, you want me to draw a diagram?” Han asked.

Chewbacca roared something.

“Hey, he’s from Tatooine, it’s not an animal farm,” Han protested. “He might just not know.”

“That’s not what I mean!” Luke objected, flushing.

“We’re twins,” Leia replied. “Both of us were put into hiding because being known descendants of Anakin Skywalker is a serious health hazard, beyond just being Skywalkers which is separate… how much training did Ben give you?”

“A few hours,” Luke replied. “On the flight to Alderaan.”

“What was he doing with his time?” Leia asked. “My tutor is literally a state secret without any hands-”

She stopped, swallowing.

“Was, now,” she said, before shaking herself. “Anyway, I could only learn from him while on break on Alderaan and I still got a lot more training than that…”

Han made a curious noise.

“What are you talking about, exactly?” he said. “More of this force nonsense?”

“Where did you dig him up?” Leia asked her brother, with a sardonic eyebrow. “He looks old enough to remember the Clone Wars.”

Chewbacca sniggered.

“Laugh it up,” Han countered. “The Clone Wars weren’t that long ago.”

“That’s my point,” Leia replied, sharply. “The Clone Wars had the Jedi literally leading armies-”

She shook herself. “Okay, we need to focus. How exactly did you plan to get off this thing?”

“Once the tractor beam is down, we’ll be able to just fly right out of here,” Luke volunteered. “Han’s ship is more than it looks – which isn’t hard.”

“Hey!” Han protested.

“Well, if you’ve got Chewbacca with you, that’s a good sign at least,” Leia said, then held up her hand. “Wait – not this way, that way.”

“Based on what?” Han asked.

“That thing you don’t believe in,” Leia replied. “Master Windu couldn’t teach me to fight but he could teach me to avoid trouble…”

[mysticmikalla]

I don't know if you take any kind of requests but if you feel like it could you maybe write about how you think the bachelors would react to you asking them to marry you? 🥹

I am always honored to take requests!! Thank you for being my first, I hope I do it justice!

**

The Stardew Valley bachelors’ reactions to being proposed to

**

Harvey

Harvey did not know what to do with himself at first. Did he gently accept the deep blue, shiny pendant from your hands and hang it around his neck? Or should he pull you in for a kiss instead, breaking apart only so he could attempt to express how much he loved you? ... Or perhaps just a simple yes, with excited promises about the future? Or maybe all of the above, in that order?

He didn’t do any of those. Instead, he stepped closer to you until he was close enough to engulf you in a hug, a little tighter than normal, hiding a silent tear that he could not help but shed while softly murmuring his answer against your hair.

Shane

He would’ve never guessed that the farmer that took up that old farm would be lying in bed next to him, gazing up at him with such a look in your eyes that made him feel like he was the only person in the world who mattered. And as unfamiliar as that feeling was, Shane felt it. He mattered, and it you had just made it clear wasn't temporary. He did feel a little afraid, however, of what came after - the moving in together, the possibility of kids, of sickness and health, and he did not want to disappoint you. But that, he decided, was a worry for the future. So for now, he wasn’t going to let you down. He took your face in his hands and smashed your lips together, taking advantage of the fact that you were already in bed and barely clothed to show you how much he meant his yes.

Sam

He already knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. Sam just... took things one day at a time. He was never one to look too far into the future. So when he was playing with your fingers, absentmindedly while he went on one of his tangents instead of finishing a story he was telling you, you pulled the pendant out and set it on his lap, waiting to see how long it would take for him to notice it. And it look a while - so long that you couldn’t contain yourself, and nodding down to his lap, you said, “Sam, look.”

He stopped talking to follow your gaze, and resting on his lap was your promise to spend the rest of your life with him, if he'd have you. He stood up, pendant in hand, prompting you to do the same, “Is this…? Actually?!” Then he would pepper your face with kisses, “Do I even have to say it? Yes, yes, yes.”

Sebastian

He had never kissed you quite as passionately as he did then. When you were straddling him, a make out session well underway under the cover of the dim lights in his room, his hands on your back, under your shirt, and your hands tangled in his hair, out of breath… The feeling had consumed you then, and as good as kissing him felt, you pulled away for a moment, and as easy as if you had already said it, you murmured, “Marry me?”

Sebastian never thought he cared much for marriage, but he longed for this. To be your only one, to be the one someone finally chose. And that’s when he kissed you again. He nodded wordlessly, pulling your head back in to meet him again, intensely, deeper than before, as if he wanted you to taste his answer on his lips.

Elliot

At that point in your relationship, Elliot had already purchased the pendant. He had been sure of this for a while now, only waiting for the right time to ask you the most important and yet the easiest question of his life. He never imagined that you dreamed the same - as when he took you for your usual walks along the shores, admiring the golden glaze of the setting sun over the sand, you also had an item most precious in your pocket.

At first, when he looked at you, he thought it was a reflection of his own feelings in your eyes. And then his own fell to your hands, where they stretched out a beautiful blue pendant. Elliot never thought he’d be rendered speechless at a moment like this. All he could do was reach for his own pendant and place it on top of yours, and then finally he would say, “In any and all lifetimes, I’ll say yes.”

Alex

Because he was raised a certain way, Alex always expected he was going to be the one to propose. The excitement of buying a pendant and hiding it from you, the planning out a date that was romantic but not-so-romantic that you’d suspect it, the getting down on one knee and asking you to make him the luckiest man alive… It was corny, he knew, but that’s how he saw it happening.

And maybe you two were too alike, because you were the one to buy the pendant, the one who planned the date and the one who got down on one knee. He was genuinely shocked when he saw you, “Are you serious?” Was the first thing he managed to say before joining you on his knees to look you in the eye, “Are you actually… are you serious? I was going to… I mean, yes, but that was my line!”

[anvznl]

S E C O N D • B E S T ☆

"To be loved is to be recognized as existing." However, what happens when the person you harbor feelings for reciprocates those feelings towards someone else? If you had known this would happened, would you have still loved them?

kind of inspired by: Second best — Laufey ♡

warning: may contain grammatical errors bc english is not my first language. ^^

ALSO, this has seb x abigail shit bc yk ahha unrequited love boombayah. this short fic is for my friend (yk who u are :3)

Settling in 'Pelican Town' was never in your bucket list, but since you wanted an escape from the good ol' Modern Life, you decided to live in this small town within the house and farm that your grandfather had left as a gift for you. All was well. Meeting everyone was definitely a joyous activity and something you will never regret doing.

Not until you met him—Sebastian. At first, you never expected much from him. He was constantly caught up in work which had led him to the point were he only leaves his house occasionally. Initially, you didn't mind it, considering you were also busy tending to your own set of duties.

Sam would sometimes ask you to hang out at the Saloon, along with Sebastian and Abigail. These get-togethers brought you all closer, and soon enough, the four of you became great friends.

But you just had to ruin it.

There is truth in the common saying: Friendships have the potential to evolve into something deeper, particularly when you have a friend who is consistently there for you.

And of course, your heart just had to choose Sebastian.

Perhaps it was due to his endearing moments, like his fondness for frogs and his desire to take a break from the town with his motorcycle. Or maybe it was the way he looked at you, the way his gaze instantly made you flushed.

Or maybe it was because of how he looked at ... Abigail.

During the time you've spent here, you couldn't help but notice how Sebastian shows a special kind of gentleness towards Abigail. Sometimes, he actively seeks her out, and other times, you catch him lost in his own thoughts, only to quickly come back to reality as soon as she enters the room.

You couldn't lie to yourself. Abigail was gorgeous. Maybe if it wasnt for her love of consuming rocks, she could've had anyone swooning for her.

A gamer girl. A drummer. The life of every party.

You couldn't help but feel a pang of envy. The way Sebastian tended to her, the way his cheeks flushed in her presence, it was all so noticeable. You couldn't do anything about it, though. If only he knew that you noticed every little detail, every subtle interaction between them.

If only he knew you like him.

"Do you like Abigail?" You asked abruptly.

You and Sebastian were currently at the beach, looking at the clouds looming over the sea. The moment felt so intimate, but you knew this feeling was one-sided.

Sebastian's cheeks turned a shade of red, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of desire to be the reason behind his blush. "Maybe," he simply replied.

As he uttered that single word, it felt like a blow to your heart, but you held back any tears that threatened to escape. Perhaps it was because he was standing right beside you, or maybe it was because you were so used to bottling your feelings up.

You knew deep down that Sebastian's answer meant a resounding "yes," and it took all your strength to force a smile. "I hope she likes you back," you said, noticing how he nervously played with the hem of his hoodie as if he had been caught. His heart was clearly racing, and you could tell he was feeling all kinds of jittery.

"Yeah, I hope so," he responded.

It felt like your heart shattered right then and there. He liked Abigail. Probably more than that. Why can't he notice the pain in your eyes? Why can't he notice you at all?

But then again, who were you to ask for such an impossible thing?

[inkykeiji]

character: fyodor x fem!reader

warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, daddy kink, bratty reader, toxic relationship, impact play: caning, blood, physical abuse (fyodor breaks one of reader’s bones), jealousy (feat. nikolai), princess used as a pet name, reader does not know russian or ukrainian, size difference (fyodor is bigger than reader), one instance of Sir

words: 2.7k

You’re getting restless, he can tell; can see it in the way you’re running your index finger along the spines of the old, crumbling books as you listlessly pace around the library, collecting dust on your fingertip; can hear it in the way you sigh, soft and delicate, wistful and weary, shoulders deflating a little with the exhale. 

Bratty and bored, that’s what you are, casting longing side glances at your Daddy from the corners of your eyes, desperate and hopeful for him to take notice of you, of your current state, and relieve you of it. Bratty and bored, but brats don’t get Daddy’s attention, especially not when they know he’s busy. 

He wonders how long you’ll hold out before you succumb, how long you can reign in your inherent selfish and spoiled nature before the restraints finally snap beneath your yearning for attention.

Not very long, he wagers. 

“Nikki,” you whine a mere moment after the thought passes through Fyodor’s mind, the nickname stringy and drawn out.

“Yes, princess?” Nikolai responds without tearing his gaze from the pages of his book. 

“I’m bored,” you grumble with a pout, sauntering over to the plush armchair Nikolai is snuggled in and perching on the edge, ass and thigh pressed up against his resting forearm. 

The action surprises him slightly and he looks up at you, a question lingering in his mismatched eyes. 

“Is that so?”

“Uh-huh,” you nod. “So I came to see what you were reading,” you continue as a way of explanation, leaning forward under the guise of getting a better view of the book between his palms, swelling breasts—perky and practically spilling out from that slutty milkmaid dress Fyodor loves so much—pressing into Nikolai’s cheek as you do so. 

The curiosity on his face develops into something wicked, eyes darkening and smile furling in on itself as he casts you another glance.

Oh, he knows exactly what you’re doing. 

Holding out the book further, he leans into your chest, nuzzling your bosom ever-so-slightly. 

“It’s called Evenings on a Farm near Dikanka,” he says. “You can read it with me, if you’d like.”

“I can’t read Russian, though,” you frown, sounding as if you’re genuinely disappointed.

With a shake of his head, Nikolai laughs gently, the melody both fond and condescending.

“It’s not Russian,” he says. “It’s Ukrainian.”

At your lost look—eyes widened, brows wrinkled, head tilted, so precious, so pathetic, like a stupid little puppy—he laughs again, releasing a corner of the book and holding his arm out, welcoming you into his lap. “Here,” he beckons, nodding his head a little in indication. “I’ll read it to you, then.”

Holding his stare, you hesitate for a moment, as if you’re weighing your options, carefully considering your choices and determining which packs the most heft, the most hurt. 

Then you’re settling onto his lap a moment later, a little palm planted high on his thigh as you lean forward, scanning the page. He hooks his chin over your shoulder, resting the hinges of his jaw on your body, his back pressed flush to yours. When he speaks again, you can feel his voice vibrate against his ribs. 

At the commotion, Fyodor looks up from his rosewood desk across the room, pen hovering above his papers as he observes, dripping splotches of ink across the page.

Nikolai’s murmuring to you, slowly, softly, lips grazing the cartilage of your ear as he reads, too low for Fyodor to make out the words flowing from his mouth. 

But he doubts Nikolai is actually reading to you, your sweet little giggles and bashful fluttering lashes telling him as much, Nikolai nosing along your jaw as his lips continue to move, the ghost of a smirk playing with the corners of his mouth. 

And, for a little while, Fyodor allows it to continue, jaw flexing infinitesimally with every hushed sound you emit, nostrils twitching, on the verge of flaring with each calculated exhale. 

For a little while, he’s alright; for a while, he can handle it. 

But you all knew it wouldn’t last long. 

A little squeal breaks in your throat in response to something Nikolai’s done or said, chest hunching in on itself only stopped by Nikolai’s large hands on your waist, fingers splayed wide and keeping you upright, so long they’re overlaying your ribs, thumbs just beneath your breasts.

And that’s all it takes, really.  

The sound of wood scraping wood has your body snapping into action, a switch flipped—automatic, inherent—and you slip from Nikolai’s grasp easily, flitting out the door with the grace of a single dove feather. 

Echos of your bare feet slapping against marble fill the wide hallways, tangled with breathless bubbles of laughter and the muted stomp of his rubber soles against the pristine floor. He’s panting behind you, pushing his body to the limit as he shoves himself forward, lungs aching, outstretched hand missing the hem of your dress by the width of a hair, again, fingers curling into a fist of nothing. 

The muscles in your legs are burning—his own legs are longer than yours, his strides more adept as they cover a larger area of ground, but you won’t give in; not until he catches you. 

And he’s close. 

Giggles are barreling up your throat and past your lips, an endless stream of amusement only slightly stuttered by your gentle, uneven huffs of exertion. The soles of your feet skid audibly on the marble as you sharply round a corner, skin squealing, but you don’t stop, not until you round the next curve in the knotted hallways, not until you realize that he’s no longer following you; that you are, suddenly and abruptly, all alone. 

Your feet scuttle to a stop, heaving chest adorned with dewdrops of sweat, glistening prettily in the warm lamplight of the manor. The silence is dense, ears ringing with the pressure, your own breathing muffled by it. The silence is heavy, crushing, almost, burdened by the immense scale and size of the manor, the whole structure so monstrous, so massive it feels nearly suffocating, like it could swallow you whole in a single gulp.

“Daddy?” you call out, voice small and hesitant, eyes darting around the empty space. The lamps on the walls waver for a moment, as if a breeze had somehow passed through the bulbs, but the air is stagnant and still. 

You turn slowly, balls of your feet sticking to the polished floor, gaze careful and cautious as it searches for any signs of life. 

“Daddy, where’d you—”

A large hand claps over your mouth and smothers your words, long fingers wreathing around your jaw, jagged nails digging into your cheek, and yanks you back against thin muscle and hard bone, engulfing you in darkness a second later. 

It all happens so quickly, so unexpectedly that you hardly have any time to meditate on the instance before you’re being whirled around, spine slamming against drywall, your body caged between the surface and the steady rise and fall of your Daddy’s chest. 

You had forgotten that this place contains many secret passageways and hidden rooms. 

You had also forgotten that Daddy knows all of them, and you know none. 

He’s got a large hand cuffed around either of your wrists, pinning them to the weathered wallpaper, warped and peeling, just above your head. 

You struggle a little, wriggling in his grip, and his fingers tighten in warning, palms pressing your limbs further against the wall, the bones of your wrist ground together in each of his hands, your features tweaking in a suppressed wince.

“Why are you on such bad behaviour today?”

“I’m not.” 

An eyebrow raises. “You’re not?”

“No. I haven’t done anything wrong.”

He laughs, nothing more than a gentle huff, and it sends chills skittering up your spine.

“You know how many lashes lying to Daddy gets you, don’t you?”

“Fifteen,” you answer dutifully.

“Yes. And how many lashes does flirting with someone else get you?”

“Twenty five.”

“Exactly. And how many lashes is that total?”

“Forty.”

“Forty,” he repeats slowly, as if he’s tasting each letter, molding it with his tongue. “Can you handle that? Do you think it was wise to act out in such a manner while Daddy was working?”

“You weren’t paying attention to me,” you say in simple explanation, though your voice is solemn, words filtered through a petulant pout.

“You have my full attention now.”

“Good.” 

Blinking twice, both eyebrows quirk. “Would you like to add to your current sentence of forty lashes?” 

“Depends. What else do you got?”

His tongue runs along the front of his teeth, curling over the edges, bulging beneath his top lip as he considers. “How about an extra ten for generally pissing me off?”

“Fifty.” you say plainly. “I’ll take them.” 

“Yeah? You won’t be able to sit properly for about a month or so.”

“I don’t care. Give them to me, I want them.”

Fifty it is.

He smiles at you then, and it’s sharp, it’s sinister, curling up at the corners and nearly furling in on itself, his eyes glowing. 

He says nothing as he latches a large hand around your bicep, grip just hard enough to be uncomfortable, just hard enough that you’re sure you’ll have a pretty cuff of all four fingers and his thumb, seared into your skin in brilliant blues, by the following morning. 

But then he tugs, and a yelp cracks in your throat despite your best efforts to keep it from happening. His fingers twitch, tighten, and you grind your teeth together, an attempt to keep from making another sound. 

Because you didn’t miss the telltale flutter of the edges of his mouth when you cried out, the way his chest puffed out just a little further, raising him to his full height. 

Because as well as he knows you, you know him, too, and the last thing you want to do is give him any further satisfaction; not after he ignored you all day, acted as if you didn’t exist, nothing more than a slightly irksome ghost lingering around the edges of his consciousness, gaze only occasionally flicking up from his thick books and crumpled papers and ink-stained fingers to trail you for a moment—to make sure you were still there—before returning to his work.

“I will not be restraining you,” he tells you, as nonchalantly as if discussing the snow outside, soles of his boots echoing against the marble as he stalks towards the wardrobe. “You move so much as an inch and I will add an additional five lashes. Do you hear me?”

“Yes, Sir.”

And you can’t suppress the smug little grin that slithers across your face as you assume the position—hips bent at a ninety-degree angle, chest pressed into the mattress, cheek nuzzled against the silk comforter—feeling exceptionally proud of yourself for remembering the Sir, for not giving him another reason to lengthen your punishment. 

“Good,” he says, and oh, you can hear it, that minuscule barely there tremor of fury, wavering in the word like a maggot under his skin. 

He decides on his favourite cane, black ebony wood with the silver handle, made of pure platinum and topped with a sphere. This is a uncommon occurrence; he rarely uses this cane, for fear of breaking it on you, as he’s done to so many other so many times before. 

He’s unrestrained today: which is to say, he has decided to be unrestrained today, a conscious choice to be harsh, cruel, messy with it all. 

You know not to mistake this with true lack of control; he could be constrained and neat with all of his lines if he wanted to be, but he doesn’t want to be. 

Not today.

You don’t deserve it.  

Every smack of the cane against your ass leaves raised, swiftly swelling welts in its wake, first materializing in thin lines, then in thick, before the skin finally begins to tear, spanked raw and rubbed down from the constant friction. 

They crisscross over your backside, crooked slashes and streaks embellishing your bum and the very tops of your thighs. Each stroke of the wood leaves a sharp sting searing across your flesh, followed by a dull, deep ache, the pain so dense you fear it may never fully leave you, throbbing as it burrows into your skin.

He doesn’t demand you count aloud, nor does he order you to keep quiet, and for this you are thankful, little whimpers and soft cries building as the punishment proceeds, evolving into full on shouts and sobs, fingers sore and stiff from clenching the edges of the mattress, desperate not to move. 

Only five left, you’re thinking to yourself in an effort to self-soothe, when the end is finally in sight. Only five more, and then it’s over; and then I’ve taken it all.

The next hit comes not with the heel but with the handle of the cane; a sphere of dense platinum, heavy and hard as it thwacks your tailbone, higher than any of the other strikes have been thus far.

A scream splinters in your throat, and you shove your face in the mattress, a feeble attempt to smother it, whole body recoiling from the impact.

You can feel the bone fissure, sending bolts of jagged pain shooting through your backside, sharper than the blunt ache the wood commands. Your fingers curl in the sheets, teeth sinking into the plush flesh of the bed, quivering muscles gone rigid as you try not to move around too much, lest Fyodor add another five lashes to your nearly completed punishment. 

He makes a masterpiece of your backside, a landscape of dark violet and navy blue, glittering scarlet pooling in the grooves of fields, fragile skin split from the constant whack of the cane. 

“Beautiful,” he breathes, fingertips skimming over his work, catching on the rapidly expanding bumps and ridges, bulging and thickening as blood rushes to cushion the injuries.

He digs a jagged nail into the wound, drags it through the hollowed gouges and collects blood beneath the sawtoothed edge.  

In a week or so, after the final bruise has fully developed and the blood has seeped through several layers of tissue to the surface, your shattered tailbone will serve as a massive moon, hanging low and heavy over the landscape. 

It will be one of the most stunning pieces of art he’s ever created, he’s sure of it.

It will be one of the most painful, extensive punishments you’ve ever endured; he’s sure of that, too.

It was fucking foolish to have challenged him, you knew it was right from the start, but—as expected—you just couldn’t help yourself. The whorish need for attention was too potent, too strong to resist, to ignore, to shove away into a corner of your mind and let it fester. 

But technically, ultimately, you got exactly what you wanted.  

Because when it’s all over, when you’ve taken your fifty lashes like the good little girl you are and you’re sobbing into the mattress, smearing spit and salt across the silk sheets, he collects you in his arms easily, scoops you up against his chest with a bicep cradling your neck and an elbow hooked beneath your knees and begins carrying you towards the small in-house infirmary.

You wail into his neck, little fingers curling in the collar of his sweater and yanking, desperate to pull yourself close, closer, as close as possible, finding comfort in your very own monster, your personal hell; delicious, decadent, devious. 

“Daddy, Daddy, Da-Daddy!”

Tender hushes fall from his lips, soaking into the crown of your head as he scatters placating kisses across your hair. And he’s so gentle, he’s so careful, minding your fractured bone as he hugs you to his ribs, rocking your shuddering body in his embrace ever-so-slightly, grip tightening as another one of those rough sobs rips through your chest.

Most of his anger has calmed now, beaten from his chest with the whip of the cane against your supple skin, but a few cinders of fury remain, simmering low and hot and quiet in his words. 

“Maybe next time,” he begins, softly seething, accent thicker than normal, “you’ll think twice before pressing your tits into Nikolai’s cheek, yes?”

[g0thl3zz]

Slashers asking their S/O to sing for them

Various! Slashers x GN Reader (fluff hcs + Drabbles)

2.7k words, 14.7k characters

A//N: Not really proofread but I wrote this over the span of like 3 months bc I'm lazy. Okay? Okay. Enjoy c:

INCLUDES: Peepaw Michael, RZ! Michael, Bubba Sawyer, Thomas Hewitt, All three Sinclair brothers, Poly! Ghostface, Billy Lenz, & Brahms Heelshire!

Peepaw Myers

Doesn't really care

Kinda just silently waits for you to notice him and stop

He'll listen, but won't pester you to sing for him like Bubba or Brahms would

  Michael was out- so you had decided to get some chores around the house knocked out when he was doing, well… whatever it was he did when he went out. You had already done the kitchen, so you had moved onto the laundry, starting with Michael's, first. You tried not to get overwhelmed by the smell of dried up blood on his clothes and had set your mind on singing a simple tune while you loaded up the washer, one you had heard from t.v a while ago that had lingered in your head since. You slammed the washer shut after putting in detergent and as much bleach as was safe before turning to the door, jumping a bit when you see Michael there, covered with blood splatters. "Oh gosh, go! Go change out of that, quickly. So I can throw it in the washer too." You state. He stares at you, just standing there looking at you. You would have thought him a statue if not for his chest moving with his every breath. You sigh. "C'mon Michael, I'll change you this time." You say, grabbing his arm and dragging him to the bathroom. From then on, you would catch him peeking into the laundry room whenever you would put a load in to wash, secretly hoping to catch you singing, even humming. Though, he would never outright ask you to sing for him, he appreciates it when you do.

RZ Michael Myers

Absolutely LOVES it when you sing

He loves your voice, if he walks in on you singing, he'll walk over and hug you gently from behind, rocking with you and happily humming along.

He expects you to sing for him when you guys lay down to sleep

He WILL fall asleep like a baby if you sing to him

   You were taking a shower while Michael was out of the house. You had left the door open since you were the only one home, and you allowed yourself to sing as loud as you wished. As you dried your hair off, you nearly jumped into the ceiling when you felt a pair of big arms wrap around you- still in your birthday suit. "Jesus, Mike. Back already? What happened?" You said with a sigh, pulling away to get dressed. Or, attempting to pull away. "Baby, let me get dressed then we can talk about it, okay?" You say, tugging at his arms. He shakes his head, briefly giving a quiet hum while staring at you. A grin takes over your face as you turn around in his arms. "You want me to sing?" He nods. "Alright, then." You told him before starting off with a soft love song, and Michael began swaying side to side, you still in his arms. You let yourself relax into his hold as you sang to him, hoping he would do this to you more often.

Bubba Sawyer

Also loves when you sing.

In the shower together? Better sing to him. Going to sleep? Better sing for him. In the kitchen? Better bust out a tune.

Will drag you to the farm to sing for the chickens.

Loves when you sing sitting on the couch. He'll lay his head in your lap and let you play with his hair. This drives him absolutely crazy.

  You had woken up earlier than usual, and had managed to escape Bubba's iron grip in bed to go to the kitchen and cook something for breakfast. You sung to yourself, since it was just you and the sleeping man in the house at the moment. As you stirred eggs, you sung "Wise men say," You sway from side to side with a gentle smile "only fools rush in." You feel arms wrapping around you, swaying with you. As you stirred the eggs, you reached a hand up behind you to cup his cheek, your smile growing ever-wider. "But I can't help, falling in love," You slow the song down considerably, putting down your spatula to turn around and wrap your arm around Bubba's neck. "With" You sung as the two of you swayed in a romantic dance. "You~" you finish, snuggling your face into his big 'ol chest. You hear him make the cutest little happy noises and look up. "I'll sing for you more often, my love. Now, I'm sure the eggs are done. Go get some plates." From then on, you kept your promise. When you washed his hair in the bath, singing a song for him. Whilst cooking or helping with chores, he urged you to sing. In front of his family? He wanted to show you off like his prized possession- which you indeed were.

Thomas Hewitt

Would happily sit in the room sewing masks while you sing.

His ideal evening? Sitting in a rocking chair on the porch, you on his lap while you sing to him.

He would have you sit at the table singing while him and Luda Mae cool instead of turning on the radio

 You walked back into the house, sweating from simply walking down the road to pick some wildflowers for the house. Typical Texas heat- that you still had yet to become so used to. At least it was cooler in the house, air conditioner or not. As you wiped the sweat from your face with your shirt, you noticed the sweet sounds of food being cooked- along with the accompaniment of a lady crooning an old tune from the staticky radio Luda Mae kept. A smile had begun to dawn on your face as you began humming along, slowly turning into you singing along to the music the closer you got to the kitchen. You stood in the doorway, singing and watching as Thomas looked up from the cutting board, a smile being evident from behind his mask through his eyes. You walked over, giving him a side hug as you kept singing. You were glad for the little moments like this. 

Bo Sinclair

Would pretend like he doesn't care

 But would urge you to keep singing

"No, no, don't mind me." As he walks past you to get something as slowly as possible

Would begin stealing cds from the cars of victims to give you a wider variety of music

"These? Oh , nahh. Just wanted to… start a collection. Always good to have a broad taste, eh?"

   Bo was down at the garage- so you had decided to use this opportunity to clean the house. It was… messy, to say the least. You couldn't begin to guess when the place was last cleaned. You managed to dig up a cd player and a stack of cds early on into cleaning, so you set that up so you could jam out as you began sorting stuff from trash and placing clothes into hampers. You were happy some of the cds you found belonged to familiar artists,so you sang along as you cleaned, not hearing the door open or the thud of his boots walking up the living room, which you were currently cleaning. Behind you, he turned off the stereo and asked. "What are you doing?" "OH! Oh gosh you scared me, what are you doing back so early?" You asked, turning around to him after your small shock. "Came back to get something. You sing?" He asked, nudging one of the piles you had made with his boot. "Aht! Don't do that! I spent so long just to get this this point. Gosh, just decided to clean up. Clean house equals a clean mind, right?" He nodded with a "hmm. Well, don't mind me. I'll be in and out." He said with a nod, pressing play on the stereo before thumping upstairs to the room. You watch him leave before turning back around and placing more trash in the bag. After a few minutes, you turn to skip the song and see Bo standing there, watching you from the base of the stairs. You pause it, once again and call out. "Changed your mind about going back?" "Nah, why ain't ya singing?" "Oh- uhm, I was just gonna skip this song. Why, you like my singing~?" He pinkens a bit and turns to the door, opening it up and telling you "Psssh, nah. I just hoped I didn't ruin your mood. Well, I'm off now." And with that, he leaves. You shake your head as a smile finds its way onto your face. He was clearly lying, but you were glad he was happy. 

Vincent Sinclair

Would watch you sing

Wouldn't bother you, just sitting there nicely

Would ask you to come down to the museum to sing for him while he works on sculptures.

Would start making you little sculptures based off the songs you sing

Would dig around in the attic for sheet music for you to sing- even though it's meant for the piano.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when you felt the taps on your shoulder. You turned off the potter's wheel and turned back to see Vincent standing there, holding a stack of paper to his chest with one hand and signing with the other. 'I found these' Since your hands were caked with clay, you opted to speak. "Okay… what is it?" 'Music' "Oh gosh," You started. "Again? Vincent, I can't sing piano music-there aren't even any lyrics!" You exclaimed. The masked man deflated a big, still staring at you. The silence stretched on for a minute before you sighed. "Fine, fine! Let me wash off first then I'll take a look at it." You stood to your feet. Vincent followed close behind you, anticipating hearing your voice once again. You went to the sink in the basement and washed your hands off and wiped them on your pants. "Let's go upstairs- too hot in here." You say and take the sheets from his hands. You read the music as you two walk up the stairs, nodding and quietly humming the notes to yourself. Once you're back on the ground level, your plop yourself on the couch and look over at him. "Since there aren't any lyrics, I can only hum it." You tell him. 'That's fine, I just wanna hear you…' He signs, and you could feel your heart melt. 'I love you' You sign, then begin the song. It was low and quiet at first, then began swelling with a crescendo all the way to forte and stayed mostly on the lower side of the octave. You finished quickly, a short but sweet piece. By the end, Vincent had laid his head down in your lap, and by the way his chest rose and his eye was closed, you could tell he had fallen asleep. "I've been played," You whisper.

Lester Sinclair

"Oh gee, sweetpea. You have the voice of an angel!"

Would get a goofy grin when you would sing for him, looking at you so happily

Would take you and Jonesy with him to go clean up the roadkill, insisting you sing instead of playing the radio.

 "No, no! I insist, y'all come. Just sing summn real purtty like ya' do n we'll have a ball!" He spoke. "...Really Lester?" You questioned the man. "Yes! I'm as serious as a dead man!" He exclaims. You couldn't help but break into a smile, rolling your eyes playfully and standing from where you had been sitting. "... Fiiiine, I guess! Just because you asked so nicely… andforjonesy” You finally complied with him, adding the last part in a quick whisper. “What’d ya say?” “NOTHIIING!! I’ll be in the car for when you’re ready to go!” You say, skipping out as the black and white pitbull trots next to you. You get to his truck and toss the passenger door open, letting Jonesy hop inside before getting in and closing the door behind yourself. Lester soon follows, turning the car, though it takes a few tries for it to rumble to life. When it finally does, he opens the glove compartment and begins the drive. "All 'O ma CDs in there, put on whatever ya' like." He hums, glancing over at you before petting Jonesy and continuing the drive. You do as he says- rifling through his CD collection before pulling out a Frank Sinatra CD. "Sinatra, really?" You ask him. "Well- yea. Found it in a broke down car." "Mhhhm, sure." You laugh and insert it into the player. You begin quietly. "L, is for the way you look," You poke his jaw playfully. "At me~" You can see him glancing over at you before looking back at the dirt road, a smile blossoming onto his face. "O is for the only one, I see. V is very very" You pet Jonesy. "Extraordinary. E is even more than anyone that you adore can!" You finish and can't help but admire Lester's grin. "Oh gosh, baby. You're the best." He says quietly, thinking about how lucky and happy he is. You wished you could etch this moment in stone, and keep it alive forever. 

Poly! Ghostface (Billy+Stu)

Billy would tell you to shut tf up (doesn’t really mean it)

Stu would ignore him and encourage you to sing more for them

(stu) Would record you singing in the shower & show you later

Stu would set up karaoke night

Billy would hate it 

“I’m not fucking doing karaoke. It’s stupid.” (ends up doing it anyways)

Billy would sing the tequila song

 “No- no- look! Karaoke is a great idea. Bill. (y/n) already said yes. Don’t be such a party pooper.” “Yeah, Bill~. Don’t be such a party pooper!” You chime in. You could practically hear his eyes roll to the back of his head. “….Fine.'' After a long pause. You and Stu rejoiced, the blonde man pulling you both into a bear hug. "We're gonna have so much fun man!". Skip three hours later. Stu had ran to the store, got a karaoke machine  and every snack you could think of- soda, chips, popcorn, lofthouse cookies (WHICH ARE GREAT AND I WILL FIGHT YOU ON THAT), and candy. You and Billy had surfed through all of your combined CD and cassette collection for songs you wanted to sing- or simply vibe too.  Once Stu had come back, the two insisted you sing first. "No, god why me! Why can't you go, Stu?" "heyyy, man. Majority rules, and Me 'n Bills wanna hear your sweet sweeeet voice." You groaned, h=face growing warmer at the statement, but nonetheless you went first, you had a song picked out and began singing, closing your eyes as you began to sway and feel the beat. By the time the song had ended, Stu was all over you, hands underneath your shirt and swaying with you. Billy was sitting back and watching from the couch with a smirk. "Looks like the show's just getting started~" He crooned. 

Billy Lenz 

Would call and ask you to sing for him

Would be happy and start crying when you end up going to the attic to sing to him in person.

"Pretty piggie singing for Billy! Oh piggie is so pretty!" 

Yea that's all I got

Ily tho Billy my beloved

Brriiiing. The phone rung, filling your house with the annoying pitch. "I'm coming!" Calling out to the house, knowing you were alone besides for him. You pick up the receiver and hold it up to your ear answering with a "Hello?" "Piggie! Pretty piggie!" You hear a feral-sounding voice from the other end. "Lala! La la la la la~" You hear the voice say. "Billy, I'm going up there-" "Pig-!" You put the receiver back up and make your way to the basement, climbing up the ladder and entering, seeing brown eyes peeking at you from behind a box. "Billy, if you want me to sing for you, just ask. You don't have to stay in the attic y'know?" You pull yourself up and walk over to the man, sitting beside him on the dusty floor. His big eyes well up with tears. "Oh- piggy. Billy loves the pretty piggy." "I love you too Billy." You say, pulling him into a hug before taking him downstairs with you. You put a CD into the stereo and jamming out to "Mariah Carey' Christmas hits" While finishing up the dishes, Billy sitting on the counter next to you and kicking his feet happily.

Brahms Heelshire

Would try and make you sing opera

"It's in Italian"

"But it's my favorite!"

Begging you on his KNEES

"Look- Brahmsy. You know I can't speak French. How do you expect me to sing this?" "B-but! It has everything you just have to read and sing!" You look at him with warning in your eye. "Brahms." You say firmly. He huffs and crosses his arms over his chest. "Well- I'm not going to bed until you do!" He says, throwing the blankets off of him and sits on the bed with his back facing you. "Ugh, Brahms. I can sing you anything else." You say and reach out to put a hand on his shoulder. He shrugs your hand off with a "Hmph!" "Really? You're gonna do this to me?" You say, no response. Silent treatment. "Okay- okay. Fine, just give me a few minutes." You tell him. You pick up the sheet music, skimming through the notes and rests before your eyes fall below the staffs to the lyrics. It didn't look too bad, you wouldn't be able to sing it perfectly but at least ya'd be able to sing it somewhat decently. "Do you have it on record, so I can sing to the music, at least?" You ask. Silently, your companion rises from his seat and takes a vinyl out from the cover, placing it on the record player and setting the needle on the record. A wonderful duet of viola and cello croon from the speaker and fill the air. You keep up with the sheet music and begin at your cue, singing softly instead of the opera style it's meant to be performed in. "L'amour est un oiseau rebelle, Que nul ne peut apprivoiser." After only five measures, you feel Brahms come up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and buries his bare face in the crook of your neck, swaying to the beat. You stop, looking behind you and seeing his porcelain mask on the bed. A smile invades your face as you bring your hands up to hold his. "I love… you," He whispers softly. You stay like that until the record ends. 

[hiwelcometothemonstersancturary]

Does Elliot ever get to feel like he is the reason for a child’s smile again, and a spark that ignites hopes and dreams? One thing’s for sure, he and the others certainly owe everything to Angel!

I love it when you guys ask about Elliot/Prototype or things like "do any of the toys ever feel truly and sincerely happy over something again" because I always look at these asks and (with tears in my eyes) go "yes, yes they do, they do get better (things can and will get better for everyone. even to whoever is reading this)".

Anyways I legit wanted to cry a bit over this because. Yes. Yes he does, things do get better for him (things can and will get better for everyone, even to you who is reading this).

It's around the second year post-rescue. Prototype is watching the toys play outside, finally comfortable enough to be seen like that instead of covered in shadows, when Mommy Long Legs approaches him, holding Bunzo. He asks Prototype if he can try climbing him. Elliot let's him (of course he does), and it doesn't take much time until Bunzo, the mini critters and other small toys are all trying to climb him. And he lets them be (of course), even chuckling in amusement as Bunzo proclaims himself king of the "mountain" that's Proto's body. He plays along (of course), and, when the playtime is over, Angel makes him realize the kids were all having fun because of him.

Elliot has to take a moment to recover. He never thought any of this could happen, ever, but the situation does inspire him to try to make something. He was a toymaker, he still remembers a thing or two. He puts some things together to make a funny-looking car made of scraps, even finds a way to make it light up, and shows it to the younger toys. They LOVE that thing, esp because Prototype made it big enough that most of them can ride on it. They spent hours playing with it around the farm, and that's when Elliot believes that the kids playing with him wasn't something that would only happen once and then never again.

He truly is doing better. He can never thank Angel enough for freeing him from Playtime Co.

[ya-bug-boy]

Hello! Could you do a self aware!Submas au

But its like swapped?

Where the reader becomes the self aware fictional character that falls in love with the player aka Ingo and Emmet. (It can be seperate or the twins liking the same person).

While the twins are big fans of reader for their memorable moments in the game. They even develop a crush on said reader, so much so, they have merch of reader.

Bonus: they also read x reader fanfics of reader

Ohhh this is so cute!!! Ok ok ok lemme try my best. Reader insert character uses He/they pronouns.

Self aware Reader x Submas

You were an ordinary npc in a cute farming gaming that the twins enjoyed playing together: Moondrop Hollow. This game featured not only farming, but fishing, monster hunting, friendships and romance. The twins liked the game and focused on certain tasks specific to them, Ingo particularly loved to fish and Emmet liked to farm, but they both enjoyed monster hunting because you were there. What made you stand out to the twins was that you were the train conductor of the region and a famous hero as well. Your title given to you by the Monster Hunter Guild was: Golden Eye; on account of your incredible archery skills, precision, and accuracy. You are the only train conductor brave enough to venture out into the farthest lands away from the safe borders of Moondrop Hollow, who is undoubtedly safe from harm due to your talents.

But unfortunately, you were never made to be a romantic interest. It's simply not written into the script of the game for you to be able to develop a relationship with the main characters who play as the farmer character. Emmet and Ingo have scoured the internet online in the hopes of finding a mod that would allow you to be a romantic character, but then the two would go into debates over who gets to marry you first.

Naturally, you don't have a lot of dialogue because you aren't meant to even accumulate friendship points. The only times you typically talk are when the twins purchase a train ticket and you lead them to where their destination takes them. They know about your lore after hearing dialogue from the other monster hunters talk about your heroic deeds and the game's initial development online, which went into more detail about your history. Aside from your current talents of keeping Moondrop Hollow safe from monster invaders, you have the most interesting backstory. You weren't always an archer, but a long time ago you were actually an magic botanist, making herbal potions that had the power to heal people. You were called to a divine duty in order to protect the world in sealing away a great evil and became part of a legendary group of heroes. But in the last moments of the fight against the great evil, you and your companions were outmatched. That is when your great leader ordered you to use the dark tome you found sometime during your quest. This ancient book of evil carried the worst of all curses in a language only you could read due to your knowledge in the kingdom's ancient history. Seeing there was no other option, you began to talk in an ancient tongue and sealed away the evil, but in doing so you also cursed your friends and everyone turned into stone. It wasn't until many years later you realized the effects of the curse: you stole the lives of everyone who was within the vicinity, which meant their lifespan was now yours, including the evil you sealed away. Moondrop Hollow takes place in a whole generation after your quest, which meant you were the oldest npc. The few times you did speak, you would simply warn the twins of the danger they were about to face, depending on which area of the world you were dropping them off at. And congratulating them when they made it back alive. One day, the twins were playing on their day off, enjoying their time as usual. Though they had each other, they had no romantic partner of their own but bonded over their adoration of you. They had merchandise from the official store along with some fan-made items sold online. While the twins were playing, you were simply waiting in your train office, mindlessly staring at your dark tome when it whispered to you. A dark swelling force of energy surges from the book and attacks your mannequin body; you suddenly lurch and gasp as you become sentient.

Naturally, you were afraid. Who wouldn't be? You came to the stark realization you weren't alive or real and never were. You were simply the fabrication someone made to appeal to others. You ran from your train office and tried to interact with the villagers down in the valley but they don't talk to you, their expressions all stay the same no matter how hard you try to make them talk. Then Emmet notices you, away from your train office and in town square? You turn your head to see that the farmer character, one of the twins who eagerly rides your trains is standing across from you. They start to move and you freeze in a slight shock before you see them running in a circle around you? Then you hear it, the voice of a man who eagerly yells at another to come down to the village square. You do not know where this voice comes from, it doesn't sound familiar. Then the other farmer, the twin brother, comes running from the beach to see you. He too runs in circles around you but you stand there in a slight shock. Who were these voices? Why were they happy to see you? What did this mean?

[disturbedbeautywrites]

Been Here All Along - Chapter 1

A/N: hey guys! So this is chapter 1 to my new Jake Seresin fanfiction. I’m not sure how long it will be, I’m just kind of going with the flow. I hope you guys like it!

Growing up in Texas meant there always something to do; whether it was watching your parents tend to the farm or playing with the kids next door. You never seemed to be bored. Your older brother, who was only a year older, also sometimes let you tag along with him and his friends. Your all time favorite of his friends, and the nicest of the group, was none other than Jake Seresin.

Jake lived directly next door to you guys and every single day he was either at your house or you were at his. He was a constant in your life; always wanting you to tag along with your brother and him. It made you feel special.

However, at the age of 11, your life completely turned upside down. Your brother unexpectedly passed and it left you and hangman both completely lost. This was the time that the two of you began to pull closer together; especially on big occasions.

After that, Jake decided to be the one to always take care of you. He would walk you to school, telling you to be good and to follow the rules. Everytime he would do that he would get a massive eye roll from you and a “yes, dad!” He would just chuckle and shake his head as the two of you walked your separate ways.

Once you were 16, Jake showed up at your door way with his keys in hand a mysterious smile on his lips. “Seresin, what are you scheming?” You were wary as he motioned towards his car sitting in the driveway. “Come on. We’re gonna teach you how to drive.” You had a look of horror on your face, but you could hear your parents behind you encouraging you. Clearly something was up.

You felt the anxiety bubble up in your chest as you sat in the driver seat of his car. He slowly talked you through all the pedals and all the buttons; suggesting that you just try driving over to his families farm. You did as he told you, pride welling up in you as you successfully drove the car without crashing. You put the car in park and jumped out, running over to hug Jake so tightly that he couldn’t breathe for a few seconds. He didn’t mind, though. As long as you were happy, he was happy.

That was why he didn’t mind your boyfriend until he ended up hurting you. It was a week before prom and he decided to break up with you to go with someone else. It absolutely shattered your heart. You were sitting in Jake’s room, both his arms wrapped around you as he let you cry into his shoulder. “I-I don’t know what I did wrong.” Your voice was fragile and broken and it hurt Jake to hear you take the blame.

He held you closer, lifting your chin with his thumb as he wiped the tears off your face. “Don’t you dare think this is your fault. He’s an idiot.” His voice was soft as he ran his other hand up and down your back, trying to soothe you. “In fact. You’re going to go to prom and you’re going to show him just what he is missing. We’re going to go together.” His words seemed to cheer you up as you smiled small at him, brushing the tears off your cheeks.

When prom rolled around, you still couldn’t believe how lucky you were. Jake showed up in a tux that almost perfectly matched your dress and he showed up with a beautiful corsage. It was like a movie, the moment you walked downstairs and his eyes landed on you. He was speechless, only a sputtered out wow managing to leave his lips. You just let out a small chuckle, walking over to him. “Did I manage to render the Jake Seresin speechless?” He just smiled and nodded, pulling you in for a hug before the two of you posed for pictures. “You look absolutely gorgeous. I’m gonna be the luckiest guy at prom.”

The two of you danced the night away, connected at the hip. Everywhere Jake went that night, he made sure you weren’t far behind. He always had his fingers laced through yours or his arm around your waist. He wanted your douchebag of an ex boyfriend to know he royally messed up. “Hey, come slow dance with me.” Jake’s breath was warm against your earlobe as he smiled and held his hand out for you. You gladly took it, allowing him to lead you to the dance floor.

He wrapped his arms around you, your head leaning against his shoulder. He bummed along to the song quietly in your ear, rocking you against him to the music. “You know you mean the world to me, right?” His blue eyes were staring down at you as you blushed and nodded. He noticed you looking away, eyes connecting with your ex as he started to walk your way. “I think it’s working Jake! You were right!” That was the night that Jake realized he wanted you to be more than a best friend, but he kept it to himself. He kept you as his Lock Screen. He had a picture of you in his jet. He had you essentially tattooed on the walls of his heart and he had everyday since your junior prom.

A few months later he shipped off to the naval academy and you tried to keep in contact through letters and phone calls when possible. This was how your friendship continued through the next few years until Jake invited you to San Diego; which is where you were currently. From what you understood, his squad had just returned from a risky mission and he wanted to spend some one on one time with you before he went back to Texas and divided his time up.

The two of you could not be anymore excited. You had been in constant contact the last few days; FaceTimes and phone calls lasting hours as you reveled in the familiarity of each other. The two of you fell into easy conversation; years away now feeling like minutes. Man, had you missed each other.

As you walked through the San Diego airport you were on the phone with Jake, looking around for him as you tried to find your way around. “Where are you?” Your voice sounded distant and preoccupied as you tried to read the signs around you. “Looking at some beautiful girl. Hang on, I’m gonna go say hi to her.” The next thing you knew he hung up on you and you felt someone tap you on the shoulder. You let out a frustrated sigh as you turned around, Jake standing in front of you.

“Well hi, pretty girl. I missed you.”

Tagging some of the lovelies who seemed interested in this! @fandomxpreferences @teenwolf01 @blue-aconite @purpledianezzzzzz

[crimsonedquill]

I love your work, it’s absolutely amazing (your the reason I’ve become addicted to Tumblr) I was hoping you could do a Poppy Sweeting x Male MC fluff. Kinda like after graduating Hogwarts and they live on a farm. Just super cute stuff. As I said, love your work and make sure to take care of yourself.

Domestic Fluff (Poppy Sweeting x m!MC)

Not me going all mushy inside over praise I don't deserve 🥲

Thank you for requesting Poppy fluff!!! I enjoy writing for her so much but I haven't been able to do a solo post for her since before starting this blog, so this is a return to form I guess lol. Also I couldn't decide between doing a fic or HCs, so it kinda ended up being a mix of both (but in a good way I'd say!)

Every day starts with cuddles in bed, no exceptions. If MC is the first to wake, he finds himself taking a moment to admire the sleeping form next to him, the way her peaceful features catch the early morning light. A few minutes are spent easing her into her own awakening as he softly kisses every freckle until her brown eyes open to him, her lips settling into a lopsided smile.

When they’re in the mood, they will spend a few minutes swapping lazy kisses and gentle words of affection before starting the day. If else, they’ll make it a race to see who can get out of bed the fastest.

They make fun of each other’s morning faces as they brush their teeth, trying to get each other to laugh.

When they decided to move to a small farm in the countryside after graduating from Hogwarts, they agreed to restrict their use of magic in daily tasks and chores. Being the eager Hufflepuff that she is (and always will be), it was Poppy’s idea of getting more satisfaction out of their work.

While she’s making bread, MC will always sneak up behind her and try to steal little kisses, causing them both to be covered from head to toe in flour within minutes. She always giggles and pleads with him to please let her work, even though she secretly loves it.

He never passed up an opportunity to tease Poppy about her height when she’s standing on her tippy toes to put the plates back in the cupboard – though he’s gentlemanly enough to offer to do it for her too.

After breakfast, they’ll tend to their respective routines. Poppy will go about her rounds feeding and brushing the beasts, while MC sets off doing repairs and checking the fences around their farm (they keep a particularly rowdy herd of Thestrals who have been known to get up to some mischief at night)

As he’s working himself into a sweat, MC notices a familiar sight coming up the hill; Poppy, wearing a big straw hat and an equally sized smile as she carries a tray of self-made lemonade over to him, trailed by a band of Nifflers who seem all too eager to get a taste of the golden liquid.

She always worries about him overworking himself and getting enough shadow. He respectfully tells her that she worries too much and that he loves her for it.

In the afternoons, they set aside time for picnics. They will ride out on Highwing to a quiet field or a small lake where they can be sure no one will disturb them during their few hours of alone time.

As their feathery friend takes off into the forest to hunt for her own meal, they spread out the checkered blanket and dig into the big basket of delicious pastries Poppy has brought along. Her countless nightly kitchen raids back at Hogwarts have bestowed her with a sweet tooth that MC still counts among his greatest blessings.

With their bellies full, they will lay on their back picturing cloud animals in the sky, or MC will offer Poppy his lap for a small nap while he plays some music on his flute or simply settles for stroking her hair as he watches out over the peaceful landscape, appreciating the serenity of the moment.

The sky bleeds red by the time they get back to the farm, which means it’s time to let the Mooncalves out. They share a chuckle as they watch the quirky creatures hop around, and MC will notice a slight blush colouring Poppy’s freckles as he turns to look at her. She’s experiencing a slight moment of deja vu; the whole scene reminds her of the first kiss she shared with MC, right after the Mooncalf dance they witnessed together all those years ago.

After dinner, they will sit on the porch reading to each other until the sun dips below the horizon.

As he gets ready for bed, MC can’t help but take a moment to reflect on how lucky he is to be sharing his life with this sweet, innocent girl – vulnerable but also so strong in her own right. It leaves him with a big smile as he enters the bedroom, though his expression softens somewhat when he notices Poppy staring at the wall with a pensive look on her face.

He’ll slip in and lie down on the pillow next to her, softly touching her cheek to shake her out of her trance. “My love, is everything all right?”

She notices him and her lips draw a smile, though it is distant, burdened. “I think so. I don’t know, to be honest. I was simply wondering… are you happy?”

MC furrows his eyebrows. “Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well… I suppose – I remember how excited I was when I told you I wanted this life and… how I dragged you along with it. It feels like I never really gave you any choice… and… and I feared –”

“That I might have any regrets?” MC smiles when he finally realises the source of her worries, taking her hand into his. “My dear, the only life I ever wanted is the one that has you in it. There is nowhere I want to be more than right here, right next to you.”

The words are enough to alleviate any lingering feelings of guilt. She smiles as he tenderly presses his lips to her forehead, and she settles into his arms, his protective embrace carrying them both into a much-needed rest.

[raving-raven-writing]

Trick or treat?👻

Treat, please! 🍬

I want to share another snippet from my Street Kid AU for Avatar. From a future chapter that shows Spider still struggling with drug cravings despite being "clean" for a small period of time. This has some OC characters in it---twin girls that belong to one of the recoms. The mention of one of the names should be enough for you to guess who they belong to. Enjoy! (BTW, I hope I am doing this Trick or Treat thing correctly. First time I've participated in it) _________________________________________________________

The cravings still persisted. Some days were worse than others. Today was one of the not so good days. After his morning chores and brief study session, he’d found himself out in the barn, inhaling the scent of wood shavings and horse. He’d been on his way out of the barn, set on taking a shower, and then an idea crawled into his brain. A horrible idea.

That was about half an hour ago or so, and now Spider sat on the barn floor of one of the stalls he’d cleaned out that morning, a small pile of sawdust in his hand.  For nearly twenty minutes he’d thought it over and over—it wasn’t the same, it would never be the same feeling. But damn, he was hitting a new low, trying to fill his craving for some blow by snorting saw dust from the wood shavings that were used to bed the few horse stalls they had.

Inhaling the sawdust burned his nostrils, stinging his sinus cavities and after a moment he sneezed. He rubbed at his nose and dusted off his hands before getting to his feet, intent on heading back into the house for that shower.

“What are you doing?” Lupita stood in the doorway to the barn, her small frame a black shadow against he sunlight.

Spider sniffed again, wiping the back of his hand against his nose. “Nothing. What are you doing?” The little girl gave him a suspicious look, one eyebrow raised in question; it clearly looked like she didn’t believed him, but she didn’t question him on it anymore. Her twin, Juanita, poked her head around the corner before coming to join and stand beside her sister. “Can you play hide and seek with us, MJ? Please!” Spider paused as he   His chores were done, school work could wait he supposed; Prager wasn’t the type to chew him out for slacking a bit on his assignments. “Okay. But just inside the house, I don’t want to have to search the entire farm for you two!”

The girls ran off to hide, giggling as they practically tripped over each other to find the best hiding spot. When they had run back into the house, Spider started counting to fifty before he called out “Ready or Not, here I come”. 

The house seemed empty, the others either out at their jobs or out doing some sort of farm work. The floorboards creaked under his weight as he walked down the hall and glanced into each room. Some places were off limits, like some bedrooms and his father’s office, so he didn’t bother opening the door to those rooms; despite the girls being so young, they knew what rooms were off limits. He made his way to the second floor, his fingertips skimming along the wood paneling that ran the length of the halls. Most of the rooms upstairs were bedrooms, the doors always closed, all except one. His eyebrows shot up in surprise as he realized what room it was.

The door to the infirmary was unlocked and open.

[awlimagines]

How they comfort/care for you when you're sick.

CELIA/CECILIA

Cecilia was on her way to the Goddess Pond when she saw you collapse in the field. She immediately gets help and anxiously waits for you to wake. She gives a gentle but firm lecture about pushing yourself too hard when you recover. Cecilia stays around the farm after updating Vesta to help with crops and make you a meal. Before she heads home for the evening, Cecilia stops at the pond to pray to the Harvest Goddess for your good health.

DARYL

He admittedly did not notice you missing your usual visit to the lab. Daryl only knew you were sick after stepping out to chase off Nami and Cole from talking outside his door. Despite his best attempts to return to work, you kept crossing his mind instead. He did not study medicine but was sure he could whip something up. Daryl arrived at your door, ranting to you about his creation. The black liquid held towards you in a beaker did not look promising. His expectant look had you cautiously take a sip. The next thing you knew, you woke up in bed to hear Daryl arguing with Dr. Baddoch over the medicine’s effectiveness.

FLORA

She returns to the surface after being in the dig site all day. Flora knew something was missing today and tried to focus on what it was now that she was off work. A fish jumps from the river, and she thinks of you. Flora knew you were usually at the dig site most days, especially before Van came to town. Her thoughts turned to the suspicious person across the river. What if they turned to your farm? Flora crossed the water, intent on checking nothing happened at your farm. Flora offers to make you a meal so you can rest. The soup is bland with a touch too much salt, but it’s the thought that counts.

GUSTAFA

Gustafa has gotten so used to your schedule that he quickly notices when you don’t come by to listen to him play. He frowns slightly, worried about what might have happened before heading toward the farm. A few steps past the entrance, he finds out from Takakura you’re sick. Gustafa wastes no time in offering to help with the animals so you can rest. Afterward, he wanders home to clean up before returning with a light meal. Gustafa only stays after you beg and assure him you would feel better if he did. You later fall asleep listening to his soft singing and playing.

MARLIN/MATTHEW

It’s the end of the season, and you’ve yet to come to Vesta for advice on what to plant next. He wouldn’t say he’s worried about you specifically, just about your farm. It’s hard to catch back up once you fall behind. The girls later mention Takakura said you were sick as he returned from the City. Cecilia and Vesta nudge him along to go and check on how you’re doing and deliver some seeds you can pay for later. Marlin only pauses for a moment before leaving for your house. Once there, he explains why he’s there and hands over the seeds. Marlin hands you a hybrid crop explaining it was from their greenhouses and should help boost your health more than a regular crop. He mumbles that he hopes you feel better soon and that he missed you today before quickly leaving.

MUFFY/MOLLY

Molly notices you fail to stop for lunch and decides to swing by the farm instead of the Inn for her break. She is devastated when you answer, wrapped in a blanket. Molly quickly ushers you back into bed. A frown creases her pretty brow as she checks your temperature. The only nursing she ever did was a few hours in costume at parties in the City. Molly is used to cleaning the cafe. She cleans around your house before promising to return with a nutritious, light meal from Griffin and some medicine. Before she leaves for her next shift, Molly says she hopes you’re better soon and cares for her the next time she’s sick.

NAMI

Nami was on her way to the Goddess Pond and noticed Takakura in the fields without you in sight. Thinking this was odd, she stopped outside the farm to observe. Nami pushes herself to speak with Takakura about it when you never appear. Nami is silent and thoughtful for a minute before offering to help water the crops. The next day Takakura tells you about her stopping to help. Nami tells you she was just curious about what farmwork was like, and it wasn’t a big deal. She brushes off your thanks but has a slight pink flush on her cheeks.

ROCK

He did think it was odd not to see you in the fields but minded his own business. He finished races with your dog and took a quick nap before catching sight of Takakura, who tells him you are sick. He doesn’t offer to help around the farm and wanders back to the Inn. Once there, he explains you’re sick to Ruby. Rock was going to take you food. Unfortunately, he doesn’t have enough to buy you both something from the cafe and he’s not a great cook. Rock soon returns to your home with his mom’s delicious curry. He spends the rest of the day talking to you about the latest gossip until you fall asleep. Rock catches another nap for himself before heading off for the night.

[katriniac]

Hi!! I hope the OC Questions are still up!

I wanted to know 4, 7, 16, 32 and E for Alyce!

Thank youuu

I did not notice I had any asks! I'm sorry for the wait, @itsmyara . Oh my gosh! Thanks for asking about Alyce. She's a warm, sunny, fun gal; I'm happy to talk about her at any time.

Here's a post I made about her bio:

4 - How easy is it to gain their trust?

She has a fairly open personality, so it's pretty easy to talk to her. However, she's not a door mat to be walked over, nor is she blindly innocent. She works in marketing and public relations, so she's used to people bullshitting her or trying to spin any conversation in their favor. Alyce herself is adept at navigating these conversations without growing jaded or annoyed. To her it's just ‘business’ and she knows it's not personal.

Building trust with her isn't that difficult; just be real and honest. Don't try to win her over with empty flattery, especially if it's about her looks (which she's very self-conscious about, and is immediately suspicious if someone compliments her appearance).

7 - What triggers nostalgia? Do they enjoy that feeling?

Having grown up on a sheep farm, she doesn't shy away from hard work. But now she has a desk job in the palace in the capitol of Rhodolite. So on the rare occasions when physical labor is needed, she enjoys the opportunity to use her muscles. Those moments are when good memories of the farm rise up.

The only unpleasant feelings of nostalgia are when she is given suggestions by nobility, ministers, or Prince Yves on how to make herself more ‘elegant’. That reminds her of her grandmother, who incessantly lectured Alyce about her weight, behavior, posture, appearance, and clothes.

16 - What makes their stomach turn?

Hearing nobility disregard the life of the commoners as if it was nothing. Seeing girls suffer under the stress of looking perfect at court by succumbing to an eating disorder.

As far as, like, creepy-crawlies or jump-scares? She's completely unafraid of things that would gross out most people. Dealing with births and deaths of livestock tend to keep you from being squeamish. She LOVES an adrenaline rush, so haunted houses and fast vehicles make her happy.

32 - What is their go-to story or joke in a conversation?

Alyce is a natural-born performer, so she has any number of jokes or anecdotes at the ready, depending on the company or situation. As a teenager she used to hang out at the theaters and socialize with traveling actors and musicians, and now as an adult she can be found at the rowdiest pubs. You can imagine the flavor of her humor, lol!

She's got a hilarious story about a circus performer trying to teach her how to juggle. And a sweet story about one of the farm-hands pretending to look for a lost sheep when he was actually out in the field practicing his marriage proposal speech. And she's got at least three ‘tasteful’ jokes about stuffy court ministers.

E - Would you get along with them? Would they get along with you?

Alyce has big ‘extrovert energy’, so I would have to take her in small doses. But I would absolutely love to hang out with her for a fun night at the club or karaoke. Or collaborate with her on a PR project. I would like to think she'd get along with me, but I'm the worst at gauging what people think of me 😅 She might think I'm boring.

A meme I made for Alyce 😆

Bonus Fun Fact:

This version of Alyce Gardner is based on my first ever Ikemen OC I created in 2017. It was for a role-play story with someone writing as Robert Branche from the Cybird game Midnight Cinderella. That story didn't go far, but I thoroughly enjoyed her backstory so much that I had to bring her out again eventually.

I ship her with Clavis because I think the two of them would have fun getting into shenanigans, and their romance would take a looooooong time to bloom because she'd never believe someone as gorgeous as him could be serious with his over-the-top declarations of love and flattery. So … yeah, she takes a while to be convinced.

The asks came from this post:

Please feel free to send me more asks from that list. I will try to be more vigilant in checking my account for asks.

[catalogue-of-lux-feli]

You come to nestled in the branches of a birch tree.

You're there for a long time.

The image of the broken world plays in your mind, the sand leaving gaping, dark holes in the world, as if it had all just… disappeared. Completely without warning. Completely without fanfare. Your oasis warped beyond recognition, your home's walls gone as if you had never built them. It makes your hands shake, your body curl up amongst the leaves.

The little farm in the river you left behind, the house you were going to build, the perfect little island it would've been on. All of it is just… just gone! Your home and your world and your life, lost.

They promised you wouldn't…

They promised…

Someone promised…

The thought slips through the cracks of your mind like water in your hands, until the anger leaves you, and bitter, aching tears are left in their wake.

Is it always going to be like this? Going about your business until something comes along, some instability or shift, and you lose everything once again? How long until the next time this happens?

You look up to the sky, as if waiting for an answer to pass by in the clouds. You don't even know why you're getting this worked up about this. But one thing is clear - there's really no point in settling anywhere, if you're just going to be whisked away the moment you get your bearings. You might as well just wander around until you have to leave again. Pick up food as you go, and just avoid setting down roots.

You pry the tree you arrived in into pieces, tuck them away for you to use as needed, and leave.

As you're wandering through this new world, it occurs to you to check your messages. You dimly remember that someone was trying to talk to you while the world was falling apart.

AVTechDept: Son of a [---] AVTechDept: We need to pull you out again AVTechDept: Something in your world's gone rogue

You frown, and settle on the river bank to reply.

LuxF: why is this happening? AVTechDept: Because this tech hasn't been tested enough AVTechDept: If it were up to my team we'd have been in testing for another year at least AVTechDept: But AVTechDept: Actually I probably shouldn't openly insult corporate on a company account AVTechDept: Again AVTechDept: Point is, as soon as we got everything reverse engineered and set up, AV's bigshots wanted it out in the field AVTechDept: we're still working out the bugs LuxF: and I'm the guinea pig? AVTechDept: Yeah basically LuxF: so this is going to happen again then? AVTechDept: Hard to say AVTechDept: We worked out what happened to your first world and it shouldn't happen again AVTechDept: We're working on what just happened AVTechDept: If you're lucky, you won't run across any more instabilities AVTechDept: Can't say anything for sure though LuxF: okay LuxF: thanks I guess AVTechDept: Sorry I can't do much more AVTechDept: Here's hoping, kid

You don't come away from the conversation feeling too much better, or any more inclined to find a place to settle, but, at least, you get the distinct impression that someone inside… whyever you're here is on your side. That, at least, is some comfort.

It doesn't take long for your reluctance to change, though.

You're walking for maybe another two days before you find yourself in another dense forest of bamboo. As you feel the first raindrop land on your face, you're struck with a distinct sense of deja vu.

That… feeling washes over you again, the same as you had in the first world, that peace that aches to your core. In the rain, your hurt from the loss of your last world seems to wash away.

You want to stay here.

You need to stay here.

You don't care if your heart can't take it, or whatever you said last time. You don't care if this world gets pulled out from under your feet. You miss this. You miss… something. You need something.

You need to get it back.

You know you can't get it back, but you're going to get it back. You'll settle here, and you'll get it back.

This won't get it back.

Your face is too wet with rain to tell if you've been crying, but from the ache behind your eyes, you think you were.

[chidoroki]

182 Days of TPN - Day 124

Chapter 124: "Tell Us"

Vincent is such a gentleman the way he's being a good host to the duo by bringing them tea and lightening the mood, while Cislo & Barbara are over here adding to the tension and doing their best to come off as intimidating (and succeeding).

The way Barbara just scoots in between them without a word is fantastic and I wish the anime played with everyone's extreme expressions more. There's so many in this chapter and they're all so good.

Revisiting this chapter after season two makes me sad because the anime had the whole conversation feel so bland. Everyone spoke proper and polite; there was barely any sort of humor, which is unfortunate because it's the silly moments that make this scene so memorable and gives a far better look at the Lambda trio's personalities. Even seeing Ray play along is hilarious, albeit he's only doing so in an attempt to not start any kind of drama.

Neither one of them have any respect for personal space and I'm laughing at our duo's expense. The anime was definitely kinder to them without making this scene awkward for Emma & Ray but that's boring. I love how uncivilized the first half of this little chat is with Barbara & Cislo acting like irritating children.

It's honestly adorable how they're such big fans of Norman. I guess I'd fancy someone just as hard if they saved my life too.

Pfftt wait, I never noticed how Vincent was getting pushed back by the speech bubble before! The poor guy!

We'll never know exactly which stories were told that brings Vincent to tears since the anime decides to just glaze over that entirely. The manga does too of course, but I always have that hope that some minor details will get expanded upon when it comes to anime, but that's certainly a stupid thought to have with this season especially.

It's possible that Vincent was at Glory Bell the same time as Yuugo & Lucas, right? I know the bunker dads escaped sometime in 2033 and Vincent being born four years prior, but I dunno. That farm functions more like a village (apparently) so who knows if they might've ran into each other at one point. Regardless, I still wanna know where the Goodwill Ridge IDs are located.

Still unbelievable that the five of them alone were able to escape a prestigious farm such as Lambda and destroy countless others. Yeah Norman and Vincent are real intelligent dudes while the other three are crazy powerful, but damn. I guess anything is possible with a couple explosives and protagonist with plot armor on your side.

Oopsie, there goes all the silly, little feelings we were having.

It was all fun and games but now the intimidation is back full force and even worse with actual rage. Barbara is being so intense that she scared Ray outta his seat (which the anime didn't include btw).

Can't deny that her voice actor did a wonderful job with her anger though. I also like this one shot a lot better than the panel.

Favorite panel/moment:

The anime is far from perfect though because they completely missed their chance to animate that fantastic spit take of Ray's! They remembered his reaction and have him choke on his tea a little bit, but it's no where near as dramatic as this and it's a shame since it's once of my very favorite panels of him. Would've loved to hear him stifle a laugh too.

End of volume 14.

[itspdameronthings]

Cousins

Summary: Here is my thought about if Jake Milles was the Millers cousin. Jake milles is a character on Deadfall. good movie need to watch it. Also read the fic that@laurfilijames wrote about him. My fic is Jakes's background . Also there is a preview of the next chapter of never letting you go. Enjoy!t

“ Ya sure ya want to learn to box Willy Jack? Never was interested in the sport before? “ Kicking up gravel while him ,and his cousin, William Millerwalk along a gravel country road leading to an old barn near the Miller’s house. These two were two peas in a pod. Jake is two years older than his cousin. Always doing stuff together. Also a big brother to Benny. Which is a good thing. Benny is a firecracker   Always getting into stuff. Three of them are always doing stuff together. Even included Sunshine in their plans. Like a baby sister he ever had. Jake’s family lives on the left side of the Miller's property. Both of their dads farm the huge land. Sally, the boys’ aunt Sally is something else. Heart of gold. Love taking care of her family. Including her baby sister Diane. Always dreamed of raising their families together. Dream came true . Both of them married their soulmates. Jake Riley. Full of energy from the word go. Good at almost everything he tried. He got interested in boxing. Lives and breathe it. Practice after his chores were done. His dad took him to the gym in town. Will usually comes with him. 

Sitting on the back porch. Will takes a deep breath,” Yeah, wanna do something different sport wise. Here iam. Lanky as shit. If I want to go to the army . Need to get some muscle.” Jake isn't buying it for a moment. Has to do with a certain girl, Amanda. She lives not far from them. That made Will blush to no end,” No I'm not. It's for me. Want an upcoming Olympic hopeful to help me. Who knows? Might lead to doing something with Benny . Ya know? Hobby?” 

Jake thought it over. Thought it was a good idea. Both of them went to change to head into town. To Will this would be the beginning of his body transformation. 

Flashforward to two years later. Benny comes to the gym. Ready to work out with his cousin and brother. Benny is still tall,but lacks muscle strength . He was ready to bulk up. Hated being teased about that. You didn't care about that. To you at 16 going on 17 he is growing up to be a very handsome young man. Will has become more toned ,and muscles are defined.Helped him a lot when he plays football,and run track. Jake is ready to set off to the Olympic trials. Excited to visit a new country. Ready to coach his cousins. Perfect escape from his dad. Will knew there was some tension there. Goes as far to hear both of them arguing. Never knew what it was about. Then his uncle thought he would coach his son. 

“ Benny boop! Move dem feet! Willy Jack is ready to pounce!” Brothers circles each other which took forever. Annoyed Jake comes between them not before Benny punches him in the face. Nose bleeding . Jake takes over. Jake noticed something after the session. His baby cousin has a gift. Will. See it too. 

Another person Jake looks after is you. Always worried about you . When both his cousins were in the Army. He looked after you when you were home from nursing school. Made a promise, especially Benny. He knew how much he loves you. Benny confides to him that he has special feelings for her. Meaning he was falling in love with you. Even mentioned how you were falling for an older man, named Santiago Garcia. Was torn beyond belief. Wants you to be happy.

After getting out of jail,and that disaster he encountered a hitchhiker named Liza,and her crazy assed brother. He hurt his hand. Managed to arrive at the hospital where you were working that night. Shaking while you tend to him,* Half pint. I'm a failure! Soon I got out of the pin. I hurt someone,and scare my family! “ Looking at him with sad eyes. Took his uninjured hand,” You are not a failure! Have a good heart. Glad you looked after me after all of these years. “ After that . He went to a cabin far from his family. Needed to be by himself. Reflect on what happened. 

That event was years ago. His mom and aunt visit him a lot. Bringing him stuff. Has a steady job to make ends meet. He keeps up with his cousins’ lives. Especially hearing that you married Benny and Santi. How he wished he was there. Actually he was. Watching from afar. Upon hearing about Gemma. Thought it was time to help his cousins. Not just with drama,but with the gym. 

Note: 

Here is a preview for the next chapter for never letting you go: 

*Why now JR! Why are you calling after how many fucking years! Are you that ashamed of us!* Jake knows he screwed up at the family department. Didn't have his cousin yelling at him at the moment. Wants to talk. 

Frankie arrives at the bar. Looked at the surroundings . Few patrons at the bar. Watching TV. While Gemma drinking looks like her third beer. Remember the plan. Recon. Nothing else. See if she gives information that they need. Sitting a few stools down looked at his text from Will. He is at his parents house visiting with Hanna. Thoughts were dashed when Gemma sits next to Frankie,” oh I love young , Latin men. So sexy “ 

The need to clear your head is so much needed.Sounds of  yelling downstairs so deafing. Got out of bed to sneak out to walk to Sam's . She is the only person that can smooth out the tension. So glad she is your sister in law. Opening the door,” oh honey! Come in! Stay awhile. Tell me why you look like shit. Not I already know some of it *