#paternal disapproval

[brancusi7]

Angry Leading Man by John Seven Via Flickr: Even his hair is intense.

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

the handyman

pairing: neighbor! joel miller x f! reader

cws/tags: pure smut, DADDY KINK, oral m & f receiving, p in v (unprotected), an abundance of pet names, reader is under 21 but over 18 (for the plot), reader is kinda stupid, big dick joel, not beta read

summary: pwp honestly. basically a porn plot? idk joel comes over to reader's grandma's house to fix the smoke detector (which she broke) and he teaches her how to be a good girl.

a/n: don't ask why reader lives with her grandma, originally this was going to be longer and it was going to be more relevant

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wc: 2k

You open the front door to and see an unfamiliar man standing at your doorstep – 40 something, jeans and a t-shirt, progressively more handsome the longer you look at him. You size him up, trying to decide what his intentions are.

“Whatever it is you’re selling – I don’t wanna buy it," you say.

He opens his mouth, but you continue before he can say anything. “I don’t even live here anyway, and before you ask she’s not home, so you can’t talk to her.”

“I ain’t here to sell you shit.”

“Well, I don’t wanna sign anything either.”

“Good. ‘Cause I don’t want you to.”

“Then why are you here? I don’t have a lot of time before One Tree Hill comes back on, so make it quick.”

“I’m Joel. I live down the street. I’m here to fix your smoke detector.”

“Oh, in that case, come on in,” you say, changing your demeanor entirely as you realize that you really need to get in this man’s good graces.

“So, you’re ‘handyman’ grandma’s been talking about?” you ask, as you lead him to the kitchen.

“She’s been talking about me?”

“Yeah. She talks about you like you’re her boyfriend.”

“Oh yeah? What’d she say?”

“I dunno. I wasn’t really listening. I thought it might just be some dementia-induced delusion.”

“Well, she’s told me quite a bit about you.”

“Good things?”

“Better than the things she says about all of your other family members.”

“You know what they say, ‘if you don’t want people to talk badly about you, then you shouldn’t ruin Christmas.’”

“Uh-huh,” he says, only half-listening as he approaches the scene of the crime - a broken smoke detector, now just wires and plastic, lays on the kitchen counter. He studies it for a minute, furrowing his brows. “Jesus Christ. What happened?”

“It just fell off the wall.” You shrug, acting nonchalant and hoping he doesn't notice your shifty eyes from across the kitchen.

“No way,” he says – not with curious incredulity, but knowing disapproval.

He turns to you and crosses his arms over his chest, and engages you in a short staring contest.

“What?” you ask, feigning innocence.

Joel swipes the dish rag from the countertop and reveals the evidence you’d hidden under it like he's performing a magic trick.

He holds up the hammer, displaying it to you. He looks mostly disappointed in you - in an oddly paternal way, but also slightly amused, likely by how poorly you’d conducted this whole covert operation of yours. “Why’d you break it?”

“I didn’t break it.”

“Kid, I’m not an idiot. Just fess up, so we can fix it and move on.”

“Are you gonna tell on me?”

“You afraid of your meemaw’s wrath?” he teases.

“I don’t want her to be disappointed in me.”

“Should she be?”

“I didn’t mean to break it. I just wanted it to stop beeping.”

“It’s supposed to beep.”

You give him a pathetic pout that you hope works. It doesn’t. It only makes his gaze harden.

“I’m sorry. It was just one cigarette, and I really, really didn’t want to get in trouble… so when it went off, I panicked and hit it with the hammer.”

He shakes his head and sighs. “You’re a piece of work, kid. Making me come out here on my lunch break-”

“-I’m sorry," you interrupt, "I won’t do it again, so just please, please don’t tell on me.”

“Why shouldn’t I?”

“I could offer you something… something to show my infinite remorse for my actions and my infinite gratitude to you for fixing the mess I made.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Okay. What’s your offer?”

His smirk makes you think you’re on the same page so you get down on your knees in front of him, but when you look up into his eyes, what stares back at you is complete bewilderment.

“Get up,” he says, offering you his hand.

“I thought…”

“I don’t think you were thinking,” he says condescendingly.

“You’ve gotta learn to listen to the thoughts up here,” he says, tapping you on your temple. “Not the ones down here.” His finger brushes against your clit.

The way he speaks to you only makes it worse, the throbbing, aching feeling between your legs. You can’t find a single thing to say that isn’t ‘please’ followed by some utterly depraved suggestion.

Joel turns back to his work, somehow unfazed by the interaction.

“Normally, I’d think this sounds a bit too chauvinistic to ask, but since you owe me, can you get me a beer from the garage?”

Oh fuck. Three strikes, you’re out.

“We don’t have any beer.”

“You sure about that? I just put a six pack in there last week.”

“Maybe my grandma drank them already…”

“Your grandmother said that Budweiser tastes like cat piss.”

“It does.”

“Yeah? And how would you know that? I thought you weren’t 21 yet. Who’s buying you alcohol?”

“I didn’t know they were yours.”

“Uh-huh, but I bet your grandma would’ve told you they were if you’d asked her. But she doesn’t know about your ‘habits’, does she?”

“No,” you admit weakly.

“Come here.”

You step towards him, and wait for him to give you an earful or to threaten to reveal your secrets.

“I’m reconsidering your little offer.”

Your face lights up at the opportunity to make things right, to expunge this from your record.

“So if I did that, we’d be cool, right?”

“Depends on how good you are, darlin’.”

For a second time that afternoon, you sink to your knees, but this time, Joel gives you the go-ahead. You try to balance the coyness you’ve seen women in the movies demonstrate with the eagerness you feel inside as you undo his belt.

With his jeans halfway down his legs, you place your palm over the bulge in his boxers and feel him twitch at your touch. When his cock is finally released from its confines, you try not to be too intimidated. Your confidence is falling but your arousal only rises.

You begin by wrapping your hand around him and stroking his length, setting a steady pace. Then, you tease the tip with kitten licks and hear his breath hitch when you flick your tongue across his slit.

There’s no way you can take him all the way down your throat – you’d probably bruise your esophagus. Still, you try, sputtering and letting saliva drip down your chin. You can’t help but feel a bit proud of yourself when he has to put his hand on the counter to steady himself.

“Hold on, sweetheart,” he says through heavy breaths.

You pull away, upset at what you perceive to be a failure. “You didn’t cum…”

“I almost did, baby girl, but I don’t want to yet.”

You feel a bit pathetic imagining how you must look from his perspective, with your teary eyes, begging him to let you go on.

“You wanna give me a good apology, right?” He nods slowly, looking into your eyes, prompting you to do the same.

“Then, I want you to come sit on the couch with me.”

He takes your hand and walks you to the living room, patronizing since the two rooms are connected. When Joel sits down on the couch, he pulls you into his lap.

“I was thinkin’ about what I said before – how you’re not using your head. You could be such a smart girl – a good girl - if only you could think with your brain. You just need a little bit of help.”

You can feel his hard cock poking through his boxers and rubbing against your pussy. It’s hard to resist the urge to roll your hips, just to get a bit of friction, a bit of relief.

His hand finds its way between your legs and he asks, “What’s gonna happen if I put my hand in your panties right now, baby? Are you gonna be wet?”

While you try to form a response that doesn’t make you sound too desperate, his fingers toy with your waistband. “Remember, baby, good girls are honest,” he whispers into the shell of your ear.

“Yeah, I am… wet.”

“For me?” His hand meets your bare skin and finds that you are, indeed, dripping wet. “Did I do this to you?”

“Uh-huh.” You arch into his touch, shamelessly using his fingers for your own pleasure.

“If you want more, you have to be a good girl.”

With the promise of a reward, you follow his implied instructions and still your hips.

“I’ll be good. I promise.”

He takes your word for it and begins rubbing circles on your clit. You could cum from that alone but he slips a finger inside you, curling it upward to meet that special spot.

Joel expects a response from you, but not the one he gets.

A single word: “Daddy…”

“Oh, baby. I get it now. Been needin’ daddy to take care of you.”

He’s right. You do need this. He can take care of you, you can be good for him. When he fucks you with his fingers, you swear you could fall in love with him.

But when he takes them away, you cry.

“Shh… It’s okay,” he says, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “I wanna do something else. It’s gonna make you feel even better.”

Before you have a chance to think, your panties are on the floor and his head is between your thighs. You can feel his breath on your clit when he speaks. “I want you to be a good girl and cum on my face – can you do that?”

“Yes, daddy.” The word leaves your mouth more naturally than it probably should, it's almost instinctual.

Joel wastes no more time talking, knowing his tongue can convey much more when it runs along your folds, and his lips can elicit a better response when they suck lightly on your clit.

The only thing you have for him is moans accompanied by breathless chanting of “daddy, daddy, daddy.”

He hums into your core, an affirmative, a reminder that you are a good girl. You can do this.

You can cum for him. You will cum for him – there is nothing that can stop the euphoria that rushes through you. It’s the kind that makes your legs shake and your eyes roll back into your head.

Joel was right – the orgasm clears your mind. But the realization that the situation you’ve ended up in – naked on your grandmother’s couch with her middle-aged neighbor who is supposed to be fixing your mistake, not helping you make another - is a precarious one. Being a smart girl seems to be a double edged sword.

Euphemistically, speaking.

In truth, it’s Joel’s cock that’s fully-sheathed inside you. Pain and pleasure mix as he thrusts in and out of you. You swear he might split you open, but even if he quite literally tore you to pieces, you'd die happily.

“You’re takin’ it so well,” he tells you, “knew you’d be a good girl.”

And maybe it’s the praise, or maybe it’s his thumb on your clit, but you’re rapidly approaching a second orgasm. All you can do is hold onto Joel, dragging your nails down his back. He bites your neck in response, and hopefully he doesn’t intend for it be a deterrent, because it only serves to heighten your pleasure.

He slows his pace, but his hips slam into yours harder, filling the air with the sound of skin slapping against skin in a steady rhythm.

“Whose pussy is this?”

You can’t breathe when the weight of his cock knocks the wind out of you, so he stops, allowing you to answer.

“Yours, daddy!”

His lips on yours are your cue to cum – or so you hope because it happens regardless of your will.

He has the sense to pull out and let his release spill onto your stomach.

You sigh, relaxing into the couch. “I need a cigarette,” you say.

“Did you not learn anything from today?”

“Mm-mm,” you say grinning dumbly.

Caught up in a daze – absolutely enraptured by his need to have you – he made the mistake of fucking you stupid.

[chheolie]

dad seokmin forgot to keep his promise

seokmin was having one of those days where he planned to spend the entire afternoon entertaining his son with the most outlandish games he could think of. full of enthusiasm, he turned on the toy fire truck, which started zooming across the floor with its lights flashing and siren echoing throughout the room.

"look at this, buddy!" he exclaimed, excitedly, calling his little one over to watch the toy in action.

but to his surprise, his son, sitting on the floor with a surprisingly firm look, just crossed his arms and put on an expression that looked way too serious for a three-year-old. his little lips pushed out into a dramatic pout, as if he was experiencing the worst day of his life.

seokmin raised an eyebrow, confused, trying to decipher the unexpected reaction.

“is he mad about something? or maybe he just doesn’t like fire trucks anymore?” he thought, watching his son curiously.

determined to keep trying, he brought the truck closer and attempted to get him excited again.

"let’s put out the fire, son!" he said in an upbeat tone, waving the toy from side to side, trying to make it as fun as possible.

to his complete shock, the little boy, still with his pout intact, kicked the truck with his chubby foot, sending it sliding across the rug until it bumped against the couch leg. the kid’s angry face only grew, and the pout? somehow, it looked even bigger.

seokmin had to try really hard not to laugh. he felt his lips tremble with the urge to let out a chuckle, but he held it back. he didn’t want to make his little one any more upset.

"okay, my love… you don’t want to play with the fire truck," seokmin said in a softer, more paternal tone. "how about we go for a walk outside?" he suggested, smiling as if it was the most amazing idea ever.

the boy looked at his dad with a mix of disapproval and stubbornness, then turned his face away, crossing his arms even tighter.

seokmin sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, feeling clueless. he tried everything he could think of – he even offered to go outside and watch the “big trucks” his son usually loved to see, but nothing worked. feeling at a loss and a little desperate, he finally picked up his phone to call for help from the real expert: his wife.

with quick fingers, he typed a message, and soon his phone buzzed with a reply.

seokmin: babe, help.

he saw the typing bubbles pop up and then the message appeared.

seokmin: i think i just became our son’s number one enemy. 😩😩

y/n: 🤨 really? why?

seokmin: he won’t talk to me. won’t play with his favorite fire truck, doesn’t even want to go outside…

y/n: did you ask him why? maybe it’s something important

seokmin: babe… he’s only three. how’s he supposed to know how to explain what he’s feeling? 🥺

y/n: 🙄 ASK HIM, seokmin.

seokmin was ready to finally fix the situation, but he couldn’t resist asking his son one more time, now that the little boy seemed a bit less upset.

"son, did daddy do something wrong? why are you so upset?" he gently held his son’s tiny shoulders. "is there anything daddy can do to make you not be mad anymore?"

the little boy looked at him, still pouting, and said in a slightly teary voice, "you… you pwomised… stwawbewwy ice cweam… and you fowgot!"

seokmin had to cover his mouth to hide his laughter. of course, it was about food! and he vaguely remembered mentioning something about ice cream the night before, but with all the excitement and games, he’d completely forgotten.

"oh, son… i’m really sorry! daddy forgot about the ice cream!"

seokmin quickly grabbed his phone and texted his wife, almost as if he needed her to witness what he’d just discovered.

seokmin: babe, he said it

seokmin: i promised him strawberry ice cream after lunch, can you believe it? 😩😩

almost immediately, her reply came in.

y/n: really? i’m a witness.

seokmin: i forgot i’d promised that 😳

seokmin: but… how could he remember that? he’s just a baby!

y/n: he’s your son, seokmin. your legacy: selective memory for sweets and pizza.

seokmin: 😅😅😅😅😅

y/n: give him his ice cream before he packs his bag to run away from home.

laughing at the thought of his son packing a bag and searching for a new home that took ice cream promises seriously, seokmin headed to the kitchen to prepare the long-awaited treat. he grabbed a small bowl, added a few scoops of strawberry ice cream, and went all out: strawberry syrup, colorful sprinkles, and of course, a cherry on top. he carried the bowl back to the living room like it was a trophy, still imagining which uncle his son might ask for refuge with. maybe vernon? surely he wouldn’t forget a promise.

"here it is, buddy! your strawberry ice cream, with everything you deserve!"

the little boy, now with bright eyes, immediately dropped his pout and grabbed the bowl with both tiny hands, amazed by what he saw.

"yummy!" he said, fully focused on the ice cream and visibly happy.

seokmin crouched down beside him and asked hopefully, "so… do you forgive me for forgetting?"

the child nodded, but he was so engrossed in the ice cream that seokmin wasn’t sure if the forgiveness was genuine or just temporary. the ice cream was clearly priority number one.

he quickly sent another message to y/n.

seokmin: he forgave me…

seokmin: but i’m not sure we’re totally okay yet… i think his heart’s still divided between the ice cream and the grudge.

y/n: hahaha, i’m glad for you, babe.

seokmin watched as his son enjoyed the ice cream, and with each spoonful, the little boy let out a happy “mmm!” while seokmin watched, relieved to have made things right.

when his little one finished, he held up the empty bowl and grinned.

"was it good?" seokmin asked, smiling back at him.

"good, good!" he replied with his sweet little voice and eyes shining with joy.

suddenly, the boy got up, handed the bowl back to seokmin without much ceremony, and ran over to the fire truck still sitting on the floor.

"wooo woo woo woo!" he started imitating the fire truck siren with excitement, waving his dad over to join the game.

seokmin wasted no time. he ran to the kitchen to put the bowl down and, in seconds, was back in the living room, ready for the new mission to save the world. he pretended to put on an invisible firefighter helmet and gave his son a salute.

"firefighter seokmin reporting for duty!" he announced with a determined, goofy expression. "what’s the emergency, chief?"

his son held onto the toy truck, looking at him with serious little eyes.

"fire! big fire! daddy, come!" he shouted, running around the room with the truck while seokmin followed, pretending to turn on a siren.

the house transformed into a "fire station," and the two of them spent the next several minutes saving stuffed animals from the imaginary blaze.

seokmin: babe, we’re friends again

seokmin: we’re playing firefighters

y/n: alright, mr. firefighter, don’t make promises you won’t remember to keep

seokmin: 🫡🫡🫡

[wouldvelovedmewheniwassoft]

help keep a queer disabled system couple from breaking NC with my rapist ❤️‍🩹

(CW: parental abuse/familial trauma, death from cancer, alcoholism, domestic violence, homelessness, sui + hospitalization, incest/rape, victim-blaming, abandonment + gaslighting by a toxic friend, harassment involving police, disordered eating)

please don't tag my post. proof of situation provided in imgur album.

i've held off on publicly asking for help beforehand, as i know there are many people in more dire circumstances right now. but i'm at a point where it's absolutely necessary.

i moved out of state to live with my partner system (we both have DID) in March of this year. we already planned to live together, but circumstances forced me to escape and go NC (no contact) with my remaining family for my safety.

i lived in my childhood home for my whole life until this year. my parents and extended family have always been abusive, but things escalated after my mom passed from Stage 4 lung cancer. my father started deteriorating after her diagnosis in 2018, and since her death in 2022, our relationship is no longer salvageable.

his alcoholism worsened significantly, resulting in multiple instances of him driving home drunk, collapsing, and almost being charged with a DUI. he hasn't hit me since i was 13, but he's acted domestically violent by slamming and hitting things whenever i've angered him. he threatened me with homelessness twice for being suicidal (once after a four day hospitalization, once after an attempted overdose), knowing full well i had no resources at the time and would've ended up on the streets. i attempted to escape last year, but my paternal aunt purposefully sabotaged it, forcing me to stay in an unsafe situation and suffer quietly. my mother's family abandoned me in 2020, and they no longer accept me (specifically for being queer/trans, disabled, and a vocal leftist), so they wouldn't help even if i wanted to resume contact.

it took over a year to move out due to my father controlling every aspect of my life with the justification of me being disabled. i tried to get his blessing for me to move in with my partner; but he refused to let me leave him, and he made it clear his disapproval of my relationship was because he didn't want me to have any autonomy outside of him.

the breaking point came after three days of nonstop verbal and emotional/mental abuse from him over an argument he started; everything culminated in him raping me while i was incapacitated. both my best friend of three years and their partner offered for me to crash at their apartment while my partner planned to get me. they also escorted me to a sexual assault center in my state to get a rape kit done.

i burned nearly every bridge in the process, as the people who could help me sided with him. but i didn't anticipate my friends to abandon me, too. they spent my last three days with them coercing me into changing my escape plan and dismissing my visible distress at how doing so would jeopardize my safety. less than 12 hours before we left, my best friend abandoned me via text, saying they'd refuse to help me if i didn't get police involved. anything i said in response resulted in gaslighting from them, mainly using therapy speak of "boundaries" and "triggers" to justify their actions. i cut contact with them after my partner told me they planned to drop me from the start (they told my partner this in a phone call while i was out) and discovering a cruel vague post they made after i last texted them. the last time i ever reached out was to send them money to get through their own situation.

since then, my partner and i have struggled financially. they're currently one write-up away from being fired, and their supervisor has always been volatile, so confronting him or going to anyone else at their job will do nothing. they've gotten help from their grandparents, but they're similarly abusive and unaccepting of them for the same reasons, so it hurts them to beg them even if they're unable to go NC right now.

i'm unable to reapply for disability, and previously lucrative sources of passive income have currently dried up. i'm waiting for orientation to be scheduled so i can start my new job, but we've financially suffered in the meantime. my account was charged off, and i only just now paid off a month's worth of PayPal debt; most of the debt came from paying off medical bills after i was injured in late April (currently contemplating pursuing legal compensation but nothing's set in stone).

i had to break NC twice for my father to help, but it's been triggering both times. i had to block his number before due to him harassing me via call/text, and he made me talk to police twice by falsely reporting me missing.

i cannot risk breaking NC again if my future job falls through or my partner loses theirs. we both had to skip meals several times within the past month to keep from buying food, so it's gotten scary already.

anything you can send helps. if you're unable to, PLEASE share this wherever you can. i also do writing commissions, so DM me to know my rates and what i'm willing to write.

ca | pp | vm

imgur album

(edit 6/18/24: created a new imgur album link; had no idea why the first one was inaccessible, but hopefully this is better formatted and contains additional context)

[lightlycareless]

I saw this and it made imagine Y/N recording Naomi with Naoya and her fam 😁

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTLvtBbFA/

It’s so cute!

Hello anon!!

Awww this is so, so cute. lkgashgjksahjkgI I had to write something about it + a lil extra hehe. It’s one of those things that can either be very, very funny… or highly upsetting if we’re being realistic🤣.

warnings: fluff. you have a daughter with Naoya named Naomi. and the mention of your family, you know, hinata, ren, eiichi...... 🫣

Enjoy!

“Come on, we should do our own version of that video we saw the other day—you know which one, the one where the little girl picks her favorite relative?” you’d tell your brother.

“I recall it being the least favorite…”

“You know which one, then!” you grin. “Wouldn’t that be fun?”

But Ren, far from enthusiastic as you hoped him to be, instead appeared to be… skeptical. If not disapproving of your idea.

“I don’t know, Y/N. This sounds like a recipe for disaster.”

“Why? It’s going to be funny; I just know it!”

“Alright, if you say so. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you when someone ends with their feelings hurt.”

But you pay no mind to his warnings, opting to instead arrange a small family reunion (with extra guests, such as Gojo—though he always invites himself over regardless of if he’s considered or not) over at your clan’s estate, the perfect place to perform this seemingly humorous yet innocent game.

“Alright everyone, gather up!” you beamed at the sight of your lovely Naomi running to you as soon as you uttered those words. Already old enough to run, she always took the opportunity to show off her newly acquired skill—one of the many reasons that convinced you even further into making this test.

“Mama, mama!!” Naomi grins, jumping as her chubby little hands reached for yours. “I’m here mama!”

“I know, mochi. Now we just gotta wait for the rest to come over…”

“What is it?” Hinata asks, mouth full of the nearby snacks—you always, endlessly told her to stop doing that. At first for your personal distaste, but now mainly because of Naomi, for she’s at the age where she copies everything she sees and the last thing you needed was her mimicking bad habits!

“Do you need help, Y/N? With Naomi? Or something else?? Let me know and I’ll—” Your father begins to fret; in the usual anxious way he always did whenever it involved his family. Another habit you wished to keep far away from your daughter, though you won’t deny that his enthusiasm to be the best grandfather in the world is very endearing to see. Especially since the paternal one tends to keep to himself.

“No, no, that won’t be necessary. I just called you all to play a game!”

Naomi’s eyes sparkle at the prospect.

“I wanna play mama!!”

“We will, but we still need your papa and uncle for that. Where are they…?”

“Sorry, Y/N, we’re here now.” Naoya breathes, having rushed to you after dealing with a… senseless discussion. You’d later come to know that the reason for such altercation and subsequent tardiness was caused by the innocent mistake made on the order he’d place for Naomi’s cake. (He asked for chocolate, was given strawberry. How could that even happen?!)

And while it was insignificant, easily fixable in the grand scheme of things, to Naoya whose perfectionism only worsened when it involved his family… well, this was nothing but a grave transgression.

Either way, this issue soon became a thing of the past when Ren appeared, silent as he was still disapproving of your plans, but still willing to participate. After all, who would want to pass an opportunity to tease his brother-in-law when he isn’t chosen as Naomi’s favorite?

“I CAME TO THE RESCUE, Y/N-CHAN!!!” It would be Gojo this time around, running towards you and Naomi in a way you’d think there was a fire going on. “YOUR HERO IS HERE!”

But if there’s someone Ren would love to see kicked down a notch or two more than anyone else, it would have to be Satoru. As of lately he’s been urgently needing a reality check, and this just might do the trick. He’ll make it work either way.

“Well, now that everyone’s here… I guess I’ll start explaining the rules of the game we’re going to play!” You proceed, having long accepted that the best way to deal with Gojo was… not to. “So essentially, today we’re going to learn who Naomi prefers the most. And naturally, the least.”

“The most?” Hinata repeats, raising an eyebrow. “That’s an obvious answer—”

“—me.” Everyone responded in unison, making it clearer why this game needed to happen.

“What do we need to do?” Naoya asks, and not because he’s eager to know the answer, he’s confident Naomi will choose him before anyone else; but rather because he wishes to see the poor soul she’d choose last. His heart points to Satoru, or even Hinata. He can already envision their distraught faces… ha!

“Just stand in line, one next to the other in front of Naomi. From there, I’ll ask her to run towards you and that’s it! Pretty straightforward, no?” You explain, eventually looking over Naomi. “Heard that, princess?”

“Yes, mama!” Naomi grins. She didn’t really pay much attention to the ulterior motive behind this game, after all, all that she cared about was playing and having a good time!

After your explanation, everyone took their respective positions, with the line up ending the following way: Hinata, Gojo, Ren, Naoya, and your father.

“You’re not playing, Y/N?” Eiichi, your father, asks.

“Nope, I’m going to record it.” You explain. “Besides, I know I’m going to be chosen first, so where’s the fun in that?”

Unsurprisingly, no one disagrees with your statement. Perhaps Satoru a bit; but he always loved to stir the pot.

“You shouldn’t be here.” Hinata would whisper at Gojo, giving him a subtle side-eye he responds with a mocking grimace.

“I could say the same about you, Hina-chan. You’re just going to embarrass yourself, like always.”

She frowns, ready to scold him.

“Stop it you two!” Eiichi murmurs. “There’s no reason to fight. We all know the answer anyways.”

“Do we?” Ren teases.

“Yes. As the one that loves her the most, she’s going to choose me first.” He responds.

“Ha!” Naoya laughs loudly, a reaction that has him apologizing immediately after for he held nothing but respect for your father. “I mean—”

But when it comes to war…

“No, I get it, son. It’s easy to grow arrogant in comfort.”

Your husband smirks. Who would’ve known. “Is that so? We shall see then, father.”

“Now, Naomi—remember: just run to whoever you want to go with, ok?” you whisper at her ear. She giggles, nodding along. “Alright, baby. Go stand in your place.”

And once Naomi was ready, phone prepared to record whatever ensued, you count to three—starting the moment everyone waited for with your daughter’s bubbly laughter as she dashed towards them, completely ignoring their silly attempts of persuasion, solely guided by her heart.

An effortless win is handed to your father who joyfully picks up your daughter in his arms as soon as she’s in range, hugging her tightly as he boasts his victory! While the others lament.

“Huh?!” Hinata gasps, mouth agape as she struggles to accept her outcome. “How—why—?!”

Naoya could ask the same, had all the means to so too, but instead he decides to enjoy the undeniable happiness Naomi’s relationship with her grandfather brought him, how elated he was to see his daughter being unconditionally loved. It was all too obvious, Eiichi spoiled her even more than her own parents and without the responsibilities of one—of course she was going to pick him!

Though what he could not appreciate so earnestly was coming in third in this alleged competition, her uncle being chosen right after her grandfather, who peppered her face with kisses as soon as she bumped into him. As if officially cementing he was her second favorite person in the whole wide world, rubbing it in Naoya’s face with a mischievous smile. So much for someone who didn’t want this to happen!

“Doesn’t feel that nice anymore, huh?” Hinata states with a sly smirk, rubbing salt into the wound.

“Don’t get cocky, I’m next.”

“Told you feelings would get hurt.” At the bickering of your husband and sister, Ren teases you. You playfully smack him, gesturing him to keep quiet.

Naoya would be chosen soon after, and while your husband was happy that he was still above your sister and Gojo, he still couldn’t let go of the sorrow his position brought him.

And yet, he managed it so much better than the so-called loser, a distraught Satoru dramatically threw himself to the ground to cry and complain of the supposed fraud that occurred right before his nose! Denouncing the blatant preference shown by the innocent Naomi, who curiously, and later incredulously, stared at him as he continued to throw his tantrum.

“It’s not fair!! It’s not!!” He cried. “I’m supposed to be the coolest one! The one everyone loves!!!! There’s something wrong about this—about this game!! You bribed her, didn’t you— you bought her vot—”

“Oh, shut up already!” Hinata smacks him. “Get a grip, Satoru!”

There’s a sliver of regret settling in your heart when seeing Satoru, alongside your husband and sister, somewhat affected by Naomi’s decision, but at the same time, regardless of the outcome, you knew your baby girl loved everyone alike.

Obviously there would be preference towards those she sees almost every day, but at the end of the day she’s your bubbly, adorable little mochi that harbored nothing but love for those that loved her as well.

“Did you have fun, sweetie?” you smiled, walking over to her and gently shuffling the top of her head.

“Yes, mama!” she looks up to you, toothy grin as she holds your hand.  “What do I get for winning???”

Naoya laughs at his daughter’s witticisms, her quickness to get the most out of a situation—surely, she got this from her father.

“I have a cake in the way, mochi. Would’ve been here already if they didn’t make a mistake…”

“Chocolate?!”

“Just how you like it, princess.”

“I should have the strawberry one as compensation for this—” Ren smothers Satoru before he could say anything else. “Or—or at least a slice!!”

“No! I want mama to have that cake! So only mama and I have one!” Naomi refutes Satoru, making Naoya smirk and your heart soar at the acknowledgement you’d always come first in her affection.

Unless…

“Hope I’m not too late to the party” It was the last guest of the day, the one you expected the least since he rarely entertained your invitations: Suguru, accompanied by Nanako and Mimiko whom carried two small bags, gifts for the little girl whose eyes widened, cheeks burning red, at the sight of who many would call her first love.

Coincidentally, the only other person that could give you a run for your money when it comes to Naomi’s attention.

“Hi, Geto-kun…” she’d shyly greet him, hiding behind you while doing so. It kind of reminds you of how you were with Naoya back in the day, when you finally acknowledged your feelings for him—undoubtedly, she got this from you.

“Hello, Naomi-chan.” He smiles back, leaning down to her level and unwittingly making her heart pound even faster. “I’m sorry for being late, but I brought some gifts to compensate. Think this will be enough forgive me?”

“Do you want cake? You can have mine!” Naomi smiles, and that’s when you knew it was serious for she rarely enjoyed sharing her things. Did she not reject Satoru just a few seconds ago?

“NAOMI-CHAN THAT IS NOT—!” How Satoru managed to escape your brother’s grasp was something you’ll never discern, not that it mattered much since he was subdued soon after.

Though there was one thing you were certain of, and that was how glad you were for Suguru’s tardiness, because had he been part of that silly game earlier on, Ren’s warning would’ve only become a graver premonition, leading you to deal with all of your family’s sorrow. Perhaps even hurt you as well!

…

Hmmm, no. You don’t think so. For everything that came from your daughter you could only love.

Naomi liking Geto because I mean WHY NOT. It's just a silly crush, one of those things that she'll quickly grow out and then deny it when you bring it up.

I stated before that Naoya would be upset about it hahaha because you used to like Geto back in the day too. Can't blame anyone tho, he's... ah, so dreamy.

Anyways, I hoped you like this little drabble 🥺I love writing Naomi being such a happy, loved child akghjsakghajksghjakshgjikaghjkajikga 😭😭😭😭😭😭 domestic stuff is my WEAKNESS. Probably even more than the highschool au................................................................................................. thankfully, I have more things to write hehe.

Until then, thank you so much for sending in this ask!! keep them coming 🤭 take care and hope to see you soon!!!

[lunarw0rks]

you did the daughters, but hear me out? THE SONS! what do you think the task force boys would be like if their teenage son came home high as HELL after a ‘study session’

warning(s): dad!141, weed use🌿🌿

『 price 』

☆ didn't notice at first, until he saw his son reaching into the cabinet for his plate, sluggishly and clumsily.

☆ price lowered the mug pressed to his lips, squinting as he watched with a disappointed head shake. "fun study date?" he would ask as if he hadn't put all the pieces together.

☆ he wouldn't be angry, per se. and he surely wouldn't put his child on the spot during dinner. price would wait until afterward, telling his son he could skip his chores and that he wanted to talk. it would be ironic if john took any other route, considering he smokes like a chimney.

☆ pulled him aside before bed when he was more lucid, scolding him. but because he had no idea what his son was up to, or if he had done it responsibly. though he disapproved of his son smoking entirely, he'd much prefer he does it at home on the patio.

°⋆｡𖦹 °✩˖⁺‧₊˚🍃˚₊‧⁺˖✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚

『 simon 』

☆ the strictest of them all, because it's his biggest fear that his children will start going down a path like he did. it's not about the weed, but the people or places they could've been in without him knowing.

☆ whose home were they at? who was there? was his son safe? simon's mind was running wild. he found himself conflicted when he saw his son come in high. he was safe after all, but that didn't reduce a father's anxiety.

☆ "need to talk to you, kid." he'd say, pulling him aside to talk in private. the last thing he wanted to do was get heated or put the teen on blast in front of the family.

☆ sits at the edge of the teen's bed, sighing to collect himself. "don't ever do that again, not telling me your company or what you're doin'. was worried sick." it turned into more a lesson about trust, than reprimanding his kid for what he was doing.

°⋆｡𖦹 °✩˖⁺‧₊˚🍃˚₊‧⁺˖✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚

『 soap 』

☆ was more concerned at first, because his son didn't seem... quite right when he came home. "how was studyin'?" johnny asked in a genuine tone, but only got a mumble in response.

☆ when he looked up and saw his son stumbling around and with his hood up to cover his face, paternal concern kicked into overdrive. soap got up and went over, holding his son's shoulder to turn him, under the impression that it could be something serious.

☆ both eyes pinned, sclera's slightly roseate — like when he was a wee one and got pink eye. but soap knew better; he wasn't rebellious as a teen, but he didn't exactly walk the straight and narrow.

☆ didn't feel anger or disappointment like he thought he would. instead, was immensely relieved his son wasn't hiding an injury or illness. "dammit, kid, ye gave me a scare." pulls his son into an embrace, whether he wanted to be hugged or not.

°⋆｡𖦹 °✩˖⁺‧₊˚🍃˚₊‧⁺˖✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚

『 gaz 』

☆ pulled the movie trope; sitting in the dark kitchen while waiting for him to get home and turn on the lights. only, instead, gaz was leaning against the kitchen counter tapping his foot, waiting for his son's inevitable raid on the pantry.

☆ "how was your tutor session?" asks as soon as his son steps into the kitchen, then flicks on the lights to confirm his theories. the teen must've forgotten that his father tracked his location, and gaz knew something was up when he ended up across town instead of the library.

☆ kyle isn't in the mood to argue, scold or lecture. but if he has to, he will. he's a stricter parent than people would assume, but only when it comes to his child's whereabouts. days like this were the reason why.

☆ sits him down at the kitchen table and runs through a list of questions about who he was with and precisely what they were up to until he's satisfied. "i can't stop you. but i need to know where you are. got it?"

°⋆｡𖦹 °✩˖⁺‧₊˚🍃˚₊‧⁺˖✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚

જ⁀➴ divider cred. - cafekitsune

[eccentricallygothic]

|| Take Me To Church ||

Pairing: Skinny Choirboy!Steve Rogers | Dark!Reader.

Description: You're the giggle at a funeral; everybody's disapproval, and yet, all Steve wants to do is to give you his life. 

Disclaimer: This is a dark AU. It will contain dark and mature content. Browse at your own discretion. Minors do not interact.

Warning(s): None in this chapter. But they will contain noncon/dubcon and the like. Reader intimidates Steve but that is what he subconsciously likes so much. 

Note: No physical descriptors will be used for the reader but she has a gothic fashion style because of the plot. I humbly request your feedback as it motivates me. And I appreciate reblogs because they help circulate my work, thank you!

MASTERLIST

I

Mass was almost over. And as Steve watched the preacher with a content and almost proud smile -for the man at the dais was no other than his own paternal uncle, the whispered chatter that was followed by the brief opening of the church doors made him turn his golden head in the direction of the ‘suppressed’ commotion. 

The minute Steve's eyes found the source of the little disturbance, his blue eyes narrowed at the scene that Mrs. Y/L/N did her best to cover up with a much too enthusiastic smile coupled with the directing of a laser beam hyperfocus upon his uncle the minute she sat back down in her seat. When the brooding figure next to her did not budge and continued to loom over her in the same spot it had been dragged inside to stand in, the woman roughly pulled it down beside her without averting her gaze. 

And just like that, regardless of how obscene you looked in your smeared violet lipstick that your mother had tried to wipe off before hauling you back into mass when she realized you had snuck off while she was busy making small talk with your neighbors, Steve's heart fluttered. Oblivious to his tender gaze watching you in the most profoundly wholesome way one could muster, -as he had liked you his whole life but to think immorally of you without the sanctity of marriage safeguarding your dignity and consent was a sin he could never even imagine to commit- you curled your lip in disdain and pretended as though you were very happy to be there. The jab of your mother's elbow that had caused you to do so both made Steve snort before he caught himself in time and worry if the older woman had hurt you too badly. 

Heat began to creep up his ears and cheeks and Steve knew it was his cue to look away. He didn't want to, but he had to. You were too dangerous and he was too vulnerable to you. Immoral thoughts always began to cloud and pollute his mind if he stared at you for too long. And that, he could not have. Both for your sake and his own. 

A labored sigh of longing left his pink mouth as he quickly averted his eyes when he caught himself staring at you again. You were picking at your fingers now. He could literally visualize you counting the seconds before you could leave. Steve's stomach did that thing where his affection for you made him want to pull at your cheeks to express the adoration that he felt for you. 

Preferably after he cleaned off some of your… fashionable makeup choices, of course.

. . .

“Dude, you're really serious about the Y/L/N psycho from up the road, aren't you?” Steve frowned at his best friend's back whilst the taller, broader and healthier boy crouched in front of his Harley Davidson.

“Buck,” Steve sighed in frustration. All he had wanted to talk about was how cute you looked with the messy remnants of your lipstick in the most respectful way he could. But Bucky just had to be like this. “I told you not to call her that” his eyes watched his friend's muscles flex under the thin material of his tank top and though the golden haired boy knew that envy was one of the seven deadly sins, he couldn't help but wonder if he would be more noticeable to you if his physique bore more likeness to his friend's. “You know what Father Jameson says…”

The scoff Bucky let out at that ended in a laugh as his long fingers spread over the rim strokes that he was taking his time cleaning with much care. “Yeah, right” Steve sighed again as he leaned against the brick wall behind him, crossing his humble arms over his small chest. “Fix the creepy satanist by turning the other cheek, because that would work out so well” Bucky was not as enthusiastic about religion as his best friend, but he was not on the heresy spectrum either. 

“Dude,” Steve found the town rumour about you being a satanist both outlandish and absolutely ridiculous. “That is a stretch and you know it” but he could not help but mutter afterwards, mostly to himself. “Besides, no one is beyond saving or redemption.” 

. . . 

The little bell at the top of the coffee shop entrance dinged another arrival in but Steve, who was busy taking a rather complex order, didn't look up. He had worked after school part-time long enough at this place to both get used to and grow almost ignorant of the signal during busy hours. 

But when the line moved to the point where a similar scent and shadowy figure appeared at the horizons of his senses, Steve's busy hand froze and his much practiced, nearly mechanical greeting died on his tongue at the rather shocking sight that welcomed him. 

“Y/n~!” You looked up from your phone out of concern for how breathless the cashier sounded. “W- What… what can I… I…” You narrowed your eyes from under the dark brown hood that was pulled over your head, wondering if the blonde boy at the other side of the counter was having some kind of a fit. “I…” It was not that you cared whether the little dude died or whatever, but rather you preferred he did so after taking your order so you could be on your way. 

“Coffee, black” and so you hurriedly uttered out your order in a near panic. The boy seemed like he didn't understand you at first. As if you were speaking a language alien to his very red ears. But then he did a weird double take and nodded quickly before looking down and punching your order in the machine with such force that it appeared as though he was trying to crush the buttons with his skinny little fingers. 

You raised an eyebrow, not out of concern but more at the comical absurdity of this queer little boy that you felt like you had seen somewhere before but could not pinpoint where. You dug inside the pockets of your black skinny jeans and took the money out to pay because you knew the rate and he was malfunctioning way too much for your patience.  

“That’ll be—” you slid the exact amount on the counter before he could finish his sentence. “Oh, thank you…” You rolled your eyes to yourself. It was bad enough that your usual cafe was closed today and now you had to deal with an overly nice, glitching twink. “N- Nice day out… huh?” 

The way your eyes moved from your phone to his face and then down to his nametag caused the thick black false eyelashes you wore over the smoky eyeshadow to move rather dramatically. 

Steve decided he liked it.

“Uh…?” You squinted as you made out his name from under the frilly church badge that he wore in honor of something you couldn't care less about. “... Steve…?

“Yes!?!” Steve's bright blue eyes were wide as he gripped the edge of the counter as if he was on the verge of exploding. “Something you wanted?!”

You leaned in, tilting your phone to the side to look at him properly. “The receipt…” His flashing blush was so deep in shade that it seemed for a second as though the heat would start to steam out of his ears next. 

“R- Right, right!” Steve's voice was embarrassingly loud as he snatched the token-bill out of the machine before holding it out to you with too much force than he intended, not that it was much coming from someone like him. 

You just gave him a weirded out look before accepting the paper by pinching at one of its edges and taking it from him and moving out of the way. You were not sure if Steve noticed it or not, but the people behind you were groaning out of frustration because of his little display that had made you hold the line up for way longer than was needed. You rolled your eyes again, both at him and the people. 

What an inconvenience.

But Steve's mind was way too occupied with something else to notice the unhappy customers. As he tried to go back to his work with no awareness of how the elderly lady in front of him frowned at him, he felt his heart leap up from how you paused and half-turned. He could not decide why you tilted your head the way one did when they were considering something the person next to them was saying. Because there was no such person with you. You slowly further craned your neck to look behind you before your eyes found him again. You narrowed your dark eyes on him as if… perhaps… you could hear someone saying something about him. There was literally no one there but Steve subconsciously focused on you, unsure of what outcome he expected to achieve by doing so. 

But the shrill voice of Mrs. Jackson nearly gave him a heart attack as it brought him out of his little bubble and he blinked to recalibrate before shaking his head at the absurdity of his thoughts and then willing his hands to return to their work. 

. . .

“Ma…” Steve muttered under his breath as he closed his eyes in frustration, sighing into his orange juice. “It was one time” he put emphasis on the quantitative adjective before crossly shooting his best friend a sharp look. 

Bucky was not bothered in the least as he scarfed down Mrs. Rogers' morn cooking with full satisfaction after ratting her son out to him. 

“It's not about that!” She put both his and Bucky's lunches -who was basically her unofficial son and Steve's unproclaimed sibling at this point- with a force not violent or traumatizing on their still young minds but harsh enough to add effect to her words. “It's about you not even mentioning it to me!”

“Mom…” Steve's ears were red. “You're embarrassing me…” He felt like kicking his friend's happy form.

“I am embarrassing you?! Me?!” Bucky chuckled in a manner aimed at further encouraging his mother before shaking his head at his best friend. “You're the one keeping secrets from me!” 

“You tell him, Sarah!” Bucky smirked when Steve glared at him. As if adding fuel to the fire wasn't enough, he was calling the woman by her name. Mrs. Rogers didn't mind because it made her feel young but her son didn't like it when his best friend did it with that cocky playboy expression of his. 

Steve knew Bucky too well. 

And the plethora of information was a rather mortifying one. 

“Dramatic much?” Steve chose to say instead, shaking his head at the both of them.

“Steven!” And he stood up at that, swiping his mini-package from the table as he did so. 

“Ma, it was one time and only because her usual coffee shop was closed. She usually doesn't come by the place at all…” As he stuffed his lunch in his bag before zipping it, he added for good measure, “I promise.” 

“Notice how he knows that?” Bucky swung his bag over his shoulder after doing the same thing and laughing as he ran by Steve to avoid being hit.

“Mom—” the golden haired boy began after glaring at the way his best friend had left but the older woman cut him off.

“Just… be careful and stay away from that girl, okay?” Mrs. Rogers took his soft face in her hands and looked into his eyes. Steve's heart melted from the affectionate gesture right away and all ire transformed into guilt for feeling annoyed simply because his mother was looking out for him. “Because Mrs. Johnson told me the most horrific thing! Her younger daughter goes to school with her and—” Mrs. Rogers treated you like you were one-who-must-not-be-named and whilst it was funny to an extent, it never failed to drag Steve's spirit down. “She told Mrs. Johnson that that devilish girl said the most heretical—”

“I will, mom. Don't worry. Gotta run now, bye” Steve did not like it when anyone spoke ill of you or mistreated you. Even if the person was his own dear mother. “I love you!” The short boy rushed out. 

Only, he was met with a very angry Bucky who was cussing out an anonymous offender because the tires of his motorbike that the brunette had parked in front of Steve's house had been very intentionally slashed while he was inside. Usually, the two friends rode to school together even though it wasn't considered very cool by their peers but they didn't care. The blonde bent to pick up the brunette's backpack that he had angrily hurled on the pavement before beginning to push his vehicle down the road and to the nearest garage without another word. Steve sighed as he jogged back up to his front door since Bucky lived in the opposite direction of school and the golden haired boy was already short on time. So he dropped Bucky's bag on his mother's rocking chair that was adjacent to the door before beginning his hopefully short walk. 

Although Bucky was popular both around the neighborhood and at school, the same could not be said about Steve despite his good grades. So as he made his way down the sidewalk, hands gripping the straps of his backpack with his head down and eyes mindlessly watching how his feet moved, he did not expect to hear his name being called until the class attendance. Consequently, he missed the whistle that prompted his attention. 

When he did not pick up on it and walked on, the person grunted before speaking up. “Hey, you!” He still didn't stop or raise his blonde head, so the husky voice hailed again. “Rogers!” He froze. 

Was he hearing correctly?

No…

This couldn't be…

“What, you deaf too?” Steve's eyes widened and his head whipped to seek you out, too shocked to notice your jab at his physical ailments. The bright blue of his orbs excitedly twinkled in reaction to his rising adrenaline. 

“Y- Y/n…” He breathed out when he found you at last, turning in your direction to look at you properly. 

“So he hears! Praise the Lord!” You sarcastically teased from where you were leaning against the narrow alley wall next to the local grocers. 

Steve flushed, both shocked and mildly offended. He had never seen you speak to or approach anyone before let alone him. Especially after the scene he had made during your last meeting. 

He raked his mind for words but none came to him. All he could do was blink at you with his pretty pink lips agape, cheekbones red. 

“They're playing A Nightmare on Elm Street at the local theater tonight…” You tilted your head to the side with a ‘friendly’ smile, waiting for him to catch on.

Steve vigorously nodded like an eager little puppy, shooting you a big smile like you had just imparted some great universal truth upon him. You raised an eyebrow at him as you tapped your crossed arm with your index finger, feeling your lips break into an amused smirk at how he malfunctioned. 

His eyebrows eventually furrowed when he slowly realized your expression and let his mind replay what you had said. 

“H- Huh?!” Was all he could let out once he did so. “Uh… okay…?”

Of course. You thought to yourself before sighing and rolling your eyes. 

“The cashier didn't have change so he ended up giving me two tickets” you dangled them between your fingers after fishing them out of your jeans, the hood you wore on your head casting a shadow over your dark makeup. “And who would be better company than the nice barista who lives down the street, right?”

Steve's throat felt as though a hundred thorns had coiled around it. “N- Not a… barista…” He did not have to, but he felt the need to do so for the sake of being honest with much difficulty, blushing up a storm. “Just… the cashier…” You snorted as you let your shoulders push you off the wall. “A- And down the road… not s- street…”

You gave him a considering nod. “Tomato, to-mah-to” now you walked closer to him, unknowingly pulling the very air from his lungs as a result. “7pm, sharp. Don't be late.” And you walked off with your characteristic coolness, not looking back and leaving Steve to his disbelief and eventual nervous breakdown due to the shocking turn of events. 

. . .

Everything Tag <3: @rosecentury

[sneakystorms]

Kepcobi this kepcobi that. None of you understand them like i do the nature of jacobis damage towards kepler is PARENTAL. He's the character whose family life we get the most detail on and that detail is that he has a disapproving military father he feels he can never be good enough for. Kepler is the surrogate paternal figure who appreciates his skillset and so jacobi offers unquestioning pseudofilial loyalty in return. Any romantic or sexual undertones are one sided and, i am sorry to say, tangled up in the parental angle. The car stakeout fireworks mini episode does undeniably have "you forgot our anniversary" vibes but it ALSO has "taking my surrogate son fishing/baseball throwing like his real father never did" energy!!! That being said i like to believe he was totally checking kepler out that first time in the bar

[cuddlecow]

can i get hcs for franco with a reader in the trials that like, 'falls for' francos baby act and like, scolds another reagent for hitting him with smth?

Absolutely! I hope you enjoy anon!! I also hope this was up to your expectations, and if you've got any more stuff, feel free to send ideas!

Franco Barbi With A Protective Reader

Much to your disappointment, you were paired up with a trio to make a full group of 4. Typically, you'd do stuff solo or with your favorite reagent buddy, but apparently luck was not in your favor today.

Once you were in the trial, you took one gaze at Franco and you were head over heels. The fact you found him adorable was concerning, but maybe it was one of the many reasons you ended up in Sinyala.

You felt a strong maternal/paternal urge to protect and nurture the not-so-little man.

It was time to fill up the cart in the train depot, and you were fully armed with 3 bottles and your decoder. You heard some of the other reagents talking smack about Franco, so you turned around and gave them a look of disapproval.

You had went off on your own before you heard Franco yelling at the rest of your group. You went to the upstairs part, looking over the edge of the co-op long jump.

"HEY!" You bellowed from above, glaring down the other reagents. They turned their heads before you shouted back down, "LEAVE. THAT. LITTLE. BABY. ALONE." You drew a bottle from your hip that contained the bottles. Aiming for the reagents below, you reeled your arm back before sending it whizzing through the air, hitting one on the back of the head with the bottle shattering.

Franco was captivated with you since that moment, and you were able to get pretty close to him which was scary in retrospect, but you somehow fell for this mafia man.

[caturnmoon]

I always see people saying that Chiron in the 5th house can be indicative of fertility problems or even miscarriages, I have this placement and my Chiron is in Capricorn. My Saturn is in Cancer, could this also be another indication? Since Cancer is ruled by the Moon and the Moon symbolizes the mother

Thank you 💞

Greetings!! 👽

🛎️Chiron in the 5th “can” indicate the potential for trauma surrounding childbirth/matters of fertility, but the 5th house encompasses so much more than that as well. Chiron in the 5th is similar to Chiron in Leo in that it is a wound of self expression/creative expression in some capacity. This can mean the creation of a child but this can also point towards childhood wounds of feeling stifled and your talents and creative expressions not being nurtured or encouraged. You could’ve been told that your talents or interests in sports/hobbies were a waste of time and that you needed to focus on more “practical” pursuits by your parents or made to feel that you weren’t good enough at them. I have my Leo in Chiron and this was very much the case for me in many ways. The 5th house is ruled by Leo and it is the house of sports, romance, pleasure, self expression and creative ventures.

With your Chiron being in a sign like Capricorn this further emphasizes the suppression of the 5th house themes mentioned above and a wound of a more stoic nature and possibly traumas related to bosses, male figures and paternal figures since Capricorn is ruled by Saturn and rules that as well. Perhaps a father figure was disapproving of your self expression and need to shine in a hobby of some sort growing up and held impossible standards for you to live up to. This can also be wounding in romance and dating as well. I generally interpret Chiron as a deep wounding starting from childhood. Its wounding of the past that stays with you and becomes a point to heal, nurture, and be aware of so you can heal that wound in others as well, since Chiron is named after Chiron the wounded healer in Greek mythology. Look to see if Chiron has any aspects in your chart to know more about the potential for healing and nature of that wounding!

Predictive astrology isn’t full-proof and only highlights potentials; not certainties. We have free will and I look at the chart as a blueprint to help guide us on our own individual journeys. The choices we make along with the mixture of divine guidance/timing help determine the rest. 🙏🏼

***The Saturn in cancer would need to be looked at further and any aspects it makes to other planets and or Chiron and the house it is in to reveal more about the nature/potential of that placement.

I hope this helps and I wish you all the best! ✨

[ewanmitchelll]

Imagine Taylor Swift’s songs (XVI): Love Story.

Imagine you are the Lady of Mercia and Osferth is your knight.

Warnings: soft smut, drama, angst.

Warnings 2: slightly divergence with “The Last Kingdom”’s events, with you being the daughter of Æthelflæd and Uhtred, prepared to the role dutifully.

***

• We were both young when I first saw you. I close my eyes and the flashback starts… I'm standin' there on a balcony in summer air. See the lights, see the party, the ball gowns. See you make your way through the crowd and say, "Hello". Little did I know…

It all starts when you two are young. Osferth has just recently met Uhtred, promptly embraced by this warrior who is to be half Dane, half Saxon, when lady Æthelflæd thought wise to prepare you to succeed her.

By then you and him are in your late teenager days. You do not know yet, though you may suspect, that Lord Æthelred is not your father, a man who inspires no sympathy of his subjects, dismissing you a paternal concern that, how curiously, Uhtred doesn’t hesitate in giving you.

“Lady Y/N”, Uhtred side smirks when seeing you. He can tell this growing beauty has his eyes and the man takes pride in gazing at you. But the secrecy must remain what is, a secret. “What a delight is to see you again.”

Due to recent events, which are a mix of your father’s death and the treachery of some of the Mercian aldermen, this infamous pagan warlord comes to protect your mother as part of his vow to the House of Wessex.

“My lord Uhtred”, you nod your head, unable to explain the instant sympathy the man inspires you, notwithstanding the differences in your creed. “I pray to find you well, my mother has been looking a great deal to seeing you again.”

He laughs, a sound you are most familiar with. It is a secret to none that he is your mother’s lover.

“Likewise, young lady. This is Osferth, by the way”, Uhtred presents one to the other, unknowing he’s planting a deadly seed.

Osferth steps forward. This tall man inspires you butterflies in your stomach, a feeling that you, however, promptly dismiss.

“My lord”, you curtsy graciously.

“Lady”, he avoids your gaze, nodding his head. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Osferth is a very good warrior, Y/N”, says Uhtred, amused by the teenager awkwardness. “He’s proven his worth and thus is here with me. Osferth, stay here with lady Y/N all the whilst I have matters to attend.”

Just like that he leaves you both. There is an awkward silence hanging between you two, so you opt to make things easier by breaking it:

“Is this the first time you stay on Mercia?”

“Nay, lady”, he slowly raises his eyes only to meet a pair of y/c irises staring at him. “I’ve been at Uhtred’s service for a few years since…eh… since I left my order.”

“Order?”, you repeat, rather intrigued. “Is my lord a priest?”

Osferth chuckles. You particularly swoon at his smile, at how handsome he is, but the pride that comes with your station prevents you to show it.

“I was, or rather am, a monk, lady.”

A small exchange of smiles occurs between you and him.

“How a monk then came to serve the great warrior Uhtred Ragnarsson?”

“This is a long conversation, lady.”

“Well, Monk Osferth, I have the time.”

***

• That you were Romeo, you were throwin' pebbles and my daddy said, "Stay away from Juliet". And I was cryin' on the staircase. Beggin' you, "Please don't go, " and I said…

Æthelflæd raises her eyebrows when seeing how all of a sudden you are engaging in a conversation with Osferth when you have never had eyes to somebody else.

“You should not be so demanding to her”, says Uhtred, as they all gather at the table for a supper. “She found in Osferth a good companion, is all.”

“I can see the way she looks at him”, says the lady in a disapproving tone. “She will, when God wills it, be my heiress. She should know where this will lead her to.”

Uhtred limits himself giving her a look that she understands well. At times he wishes he could be more… present in your life. But in many ways he is.

As he observes you and Osferth cautiously now, he thinks wise to interfere.

“Y/N…”,Uhtred calls you. “Your mother wishes you to be more focused in your duties.”

“I do what she asks and more”, you sigh. “She is never pleased with anything I do.”

“It is the way of things. Kings and queens put duties over their sentiments”, says the warlord. “Most times they require personal sacrifices.”

You are tempted to argue, but seeing reason in his speech, what else is there to speak? You nod and giving Osferth a meaningless look, you depart without saying anything.

Osferth watches you go and, when noticing where his eyes follow, Uhtred clears his throat.

“Be careful, boy. Some prizes are too high to aim.”

The monk blushes at once.

“What is it you say, lord? I am but a bastard, a monk who, by chance, follows you in your wars.”

Uhtred side smirks in response.

“Youth can be misleading, this is all I can offer as an advice.”

But some part of the younger male wishes he’d have more time with you… however impossible it is.

***

• Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone. I'll be waiting, all there's left to do is run. You'll be the prince and I'll be the princess. It's a love story, baby, just say, "Yes"…

You do not see him again. It takes years until tragedy reunites one with the other. Until then you slowly grow into a different woman.

Your mind is well versed in politics and languages, at least knowing enough of Latin to understand the scriptures. You try to follow your mother’s steps, but this comes with a price.

Even Lady Æthelflæd is aware of the subtle changes in your personality. Where’s that characteristically joy that used to spark behind your y/c eyes? She misses it. As well as your innocence. Would time steal it from you?

At first she opts to ignore it. But not even her loyal adviser is blind to the loneliness you go through.

“It would do well if Lady Y/N had some companions to spend her time with. However is her position now or in the future ahead, she must not live isolated.”

Æthelflæd considers. But whilst she asks him to look for suitable companions, the role of a mother, which she often mistook as the same of a queen, leads her to a shadowy road.

“Y/N”, she comes to your chambers and doesn’t like seeing some sort of melancholy in you.

“Yes, my lady?”, you stand and curtsy.

Æthelflæd swallows the hurt when seeing it’s the queen you greet, not the mother.

“We must speak.”

“Have I done any wrongs?”

“It is not about that. I fear I have isolated you. I was… concerned you might suffer mundane influences which I attempted to prevent you to succumb.”

A flash of anger is perceived in your eyes. To your mother this is better than apathy.

“I am never good enough for you, aren’t I? You take the few friends I have and send them away. If I recall your words, all was done under the pretense of following duty.”

An argument is inevitable. There is only so much you can do to hold back the temper that is an inheritance of your mother and your father, though Æthelflæd credits the latter for it.

She hears the accusations in silence. An explosion is better than a cold storm, so the queen judges.

In the meantime the royal household is trembling, Osferth has been living quietly, fighting his wars and drinking his ale. The monk clearly breaks any celibate oath by getting himself involved with women.

“It so appears that our baby monk is not a baby anymore”, so Finan cackles.

“A man does what he does”, he shrugs his shoulders.

How can it be, though, that his thoughts never left aside the only lady he’d commit his heart to? Remorse soon comes when thinking that you’d not do what he did, knowing your character. Glooming soon comes… washing away what he judges to be weakness of his flesh.

As Uhtred likes to quote, though, destiny is all and soon it works to tie his life to yours.

*

Despite amending relations with your mother, you have never been the same. Duty has forged you into an iron lady prepared to embrace the arduous task to inherit a crown that deep inside your heart you’ve never wanted it.

Nonetheless, once you prove how dutiful you are and how sharp is your wit, the witan somehow feels at easy when looking at you as your mother’s heiress.

And the day where you are expected to become Lady of the Mercians comes sooner than expected.

“I have to deliver grave news to you, child”, and without wasting time, she tells you that she’s dying.

Naturally, you are shocked.

“This cannot be!”

“It is the will of God and we must respect it. Soon, transition will occur as we have planned all these years. Listen to me, Y/N, you are ready.” For the first time in a while she looks a mother to you. “I am proud of you, my daughter.”

You lean against her forehead and, letting a sob escape, you say:

“I shall not disappoint you, mother.”

“You could never”, and she kisses your forehead, thus reconciling permanently with you.

As she secretly requests the presence of Uhtred, you are going outside to fetch a messenger when you are surprised by his presence.

“My lord!”

“Where is she?”, by the grave expression on his face, you know he’s already been informed of her condition.

“At her bedchambers”, and it’s when you see him.

Osferth stands in the corridors, his eyes reminding you of those of a lost puppy’s. Courties come and go but you two freeze in time and space.

He knows and you know. With a movement of your head, you indicate him to follow. Discreetly he does, going after you somewhere that you know it’s not well guarded—in the past it used to be the spot where your mother welcomed Uhtred.

“Lady Y/N”, Osferth isn’t sure how to address you, how to even look at you.

For one moment neither do you. It seems as these last years turned one stranger to the other, and perhaps to avoid this odd sensation, you are the one to take his hand in yours.

“My lord”, you speak in short breath. “Osferth.”

“I thought we would never meet again”, says he, daring to raise his eyes.

Studying you, Osferth sees how grown you are. How beautiful you have become with eyes dark as coal and softened features, with y/c locks falling in one long braid. There is sadness behind your y/c eyes and God knows how he wishes to take it away.

When leaning his hand to stroke your cheek, you lean it against his palm, searching for comfort. For the very first time in years you shed a tear.

“I am alone in this world, Osferth. My life is not mine. They forbid me to nurture sentiments of any nature. I am caged.”

“This is not true, lady. I’m here and will never leave your side, this I vow. I did try to forget you in the past”, he admits. “The deep affection there is in my heart admonished my weakness. I cannot nor will I ever be so blunt in letting you to yourself.”

“I am expected to remain chaste”, you sob. “Or at least to marry someone else. Save me, my lord. Save me from my fate.”

“There is little need to protest against destiny”, says Osferth. “You were born for this, lady. God has put you where you should be. I’ll be here for you. Whatever comes, I’ll be beside you.”

You bury your face to his neck, bursting into tears. Osferth is tensed at such proximity, but when he embraces you, his concerns dissipate. Your smell brings him peace and as he rocks you in his arms, he realizes how much he loves you.

Oh, what a misfortune to love a star that is too high to grasp! But Osferth has been accustomed to the night to be drowned in hopelessness. What is he but a moon in search of the sun, contemplating the vast of the galaxy?

Nevertheless, the love he feels for you is inexplicable, inexpressible, irreversible.

“My lady”, he speaks in his husky tone, reluctantly parting from you. “We must go. We cannot take so long. I wish we had more time…”

“Osferth.”

“Yes?”

“Can you do at least one thing for me?”

“Anything, lady”, he takes your hands and presses a hand in each.

“Stay with me. Never leave my side, no matter the circumstances. Be the knight I want you to be.”

Osferth knows what you ask is too much of him. Especially now how acutely aware he is where came from this pair of dark coal eyes that stares at him.

Nevertheless, he’s been too weary to stay far from you. Even if he cannot have you, the warrior monk knows he has no strength to stay away from you anymore.

“I will do as my lady commands me to.”

That being said, Osferth does a bold move that surprises you both. He takes you by your waist and kisses you at long last.

***

• So I sneak out to the garden to see you. We keep quiet, 'cause we're dead if they knew. So close your eyes, escape this town for a little while, oh oh…

You are promptly acknowledged as Lady of The Mercians, the rightful successor of Lady Æthelflæd. Duty compels you to act as honorably as you can, showing the witan and your royal uncle how sharped is your wit.

There present is Lord Uhtred, who ensures his natural daughter is safe, that the transition to power occurs smoothly.

But at the end of the day you wish to see only one person. And when everyone else is sleeping, your loyal friend lady Ælfgifu brings him to your privy quarters.

“Lady”, Osferth is surprised at your summon. “Is there something wrong?”

He drinks the view of you, trying not to succumb his lust. Years have passed since he took the oath of not letting be slaved by his flesh, especially regarding his feelings for you.

Now, the sight of your long loose hair and the nightgown that covers poorly your body, letting be captured in glimpses your firm breasts, makes Osferth face an internal battle.

“There is nothing wrong, my love. Fear not”, you short the distance between you two feigning a confidence you lack. “I am my own mistress here, Osferth.”

He gives you a cautious look.

“Time has played with us, has it not?”, the monk muses. “However, my lady, we must not be imprudent. I stand here as you wish, but I am not going to be unwise and put you at risk.”

“I understand my mother has done a vow which I intend to keep. In the meantime she has met the man I know now as my father in secrecy. We could do the same.”

“If you are certain this will not…”

But his words die at how close you two are. What time has repressed, no iron is suffice to hold back now it’s loose. Osferth himself forgets reason when his lips collide against yours and his arms are all around you.

Sighing in content, never before you felt a mistress of yourself as in that moment. When his breath and yours are combined, his strong body warming yours, your fingers let loose in his face, his features, his hair.

All the whilst his tongue dances with yours, his long and callous hands play with your hair and work quickly to remove your fabric. Once he leads you to bed, he pauses a moment to hold your face gently:

“My lady wife.”

“My lord husband”, you beam at the secrecy with which you and him express at last the true sentiments and desires to each other.

Even if this love story is not having the end you’d like, it is already written more pleasant than you’d conceived.

As his mouth drinks in your skin, his tongue twirling around your neck, his hands gently spread your legs, placing himself in between as his mouth starts to cup each nude breast. Devouring your nipples like a hungry man, Osferth for few seconds forgets he is the one experienced…

“Why did you stop”, you moan in protest when seeing this handsome and strong man right where you want him to be.

Osferth smiles at you, a smile that brightens his face which in turn makes you beam at such a view.

“I remember my lady that I must have utmost care with you, considering you are a damsel.”

You narrow your eyes at him.

“Is it a way to remind me you have had others in your bed, lord?”

Osferth’s smile quickly dismisses as he crawls over you.

“Lady, whilst it is true I have not behaved well in the past, I am being careful to you. We are already doing it unlawfully…”

“Oh shush! This is not the moment nor the time to…”

And here you are pleasantly swallowed his fervent kisses. Where Osferth is shy and discreet when he’s with others, right here with you he’s every inch the man you’ve read in books. Even more.

When his hand slides to your womanhood, there is no shadow of doubts or jealousy, but two hearts united in one purpose. And this is as holy as mundane, as sacred as profane, from the moment he slides in you only soon to seed you, providing a new delight never before you considered proving.

***

• Romeo, save me, I've been feeling so alone. I keep waiting for you, but you never come. Is this in my head? I don't know what to think. He knelt to the ground and pulled out a ring and said, "Marry me, Juliet. You'll never have to be alone. I love you and that's all I really know. I talked to your dad, go pick out a white dress. It's a love story, baby, just say, "Yes". Oh, oh, oh. 'Cause we were both young when I first saw you

You receive a visit of Lord Uhtred, who’s been too suspicious of the reason you’ve been keeping Osferth wherever you go.

“Lady Y/N, may we have a word?”, he is somewhat surprised to see you fitting well in your new role.

In spite of the burden that being the sole ruler of Mercia carries, you’ve been continuing with the hard work of your mother. Some advisors, already perceiving that you hold a favourite in the person of your dearest knight, who does not meddle in politics, keep a blind eye to his person. But will others do the same notwithstanding your utmost discretion?

“Yes, lord Uhtred. You know you are welcome here”, you dismiss the council and receive him like a daughter receives a father.

The tender gesture does not go unnoticed by the man, who softens before you.

“So much like your mother”, Uhtred whispers, a sad smile crossing his lips. “Even in temper.”

“We had our differences”, you say, leaving a hint of a resentment that never truly healed. You wish you had been better as a daughter, more committed to the cause she stood for. You try amending the remorse by doing what she’d do… though this does not mean you forget your secret vows exchanged with Osferth.

Uhtred studies you for a moment and it’s almost as if he can tell what’s been left unsaid.

“We all did, but you are doing a good work here. She would be proud of you. Leaving these matters aside, I am not here to discuss the rather unpleasant businesses King Edward’s been having with Mercia.”

You ask servants to fetch yourselves wine and food before gallantries are set aside for politics. To your surprise, however, what Uhtred comes to discuss with you is in regard of your relationship with Osferth.

“Lord!”

“There is no need to protest. I am not here to admonish you for what I’ve done myself”, says he. “Whoever you lies with is your problem, Y/N. But the point is…the oath your mother took was only performed after you were adult and well looked after. You need to continue the lineage if you do not wish that Mercia falls onto the hands of Wessex.”

“I do not think the aldermen will accept Osferth as my husband”, you hesitate.

“There may be some elements they might consider”, Uhtred strokes his chin. “Do you love this man, Y/N Y/LN?”

You smile at the question posed. Uhtred can tell you do love his baby monk, unbelievable as it is that Osferth conquered the lady of Mercia’s heart. He scoffs at it.

“I do”, and then as if hesitating, you ask: “Will you give us your blessing?”

Uhtred never considered that you’d outwit him and your mother, but looking at the sagacity with which you’ve been conducting Mercian affairs, is it really difficult to believe you’ve known all this time?

“I personally think you deserve better”, the warlord teases you. “But alas, aye! He will look after you, I’m sure.”

You nod your head, thankful for his blessing. Then a moment of silence passes before Uhtred says:

“How long have you known?”

“Long enough”, your smile spreads. “What a shame is that I will never be able to acknowledge you as my father in public.”

“It matters not”, he says. “What is more relevant is that you are well and conducting your affairs properly, something of which I’ve never harbored doubts. I’m proud of you.”

A delight this reunion proves to be, giving your heart the balsam you need.

*

You are lawfully married to Osferth before selected witnesses on a sacred day. You ensure to bring your half-siblings for the ceremony, particularly bonding to Stiorra, who, despite the differences in creed, proves to be the sister you wish you had back in your youth.

At the feast, the aldermen present themselves. Not many are content with the choice, but if the blood of Ælfred does not meddle in Mercian matters, then all is well.

“You look beautiful, lady”, Osferth smiles as you two dance beautifully in your own ways after receiving the blessing of the priest. “I never thought I’d see this day come.”

“It did, husband”, you smile back and he notices the old glee once spotted in your eyes long time ago have now returned. “I’ve always had my faith this would somehow end well for us.”

“Praise the Lord”, says he.

An exchange of loving glances is enough before the bedding parade is announced. You see Uhtred is sighing heavily, opting for not partaking of the boasting. Some aldermen snort at it for its pagan nature.

But some traditions survive the time. Therefore, you play the role of a damsel, whose gown is stripped on your way to your bedchambers, as Osferth does the same. He laughs as Finan teases him, as well as their other mates, considering they were more than familiar with Osferth’s history before you came along.

Now here you two are, alone at last.

“It brings me great relief, in all honesty, that we are no longer hidden in secret”, he admits, lying on his elbow as he admires you openly.

“As it does to me, though what we have is not a burden, never was.”

“I know”, he takes your hand and brings it to his lips. “I only wish we had not taken such a long time.”

“It all happened in due time”, you smile before pulling him to you.

One kiss is enough to make Osferth’s mind go blank as well as yours. Thus it is this love story is sealed with a carnal union that mirrors that of the soul.

***

• Epilogue.

Some years later…

You pat your growing belly, watching with concern as Osferth teaches Edgar how to manage a sword.

“You must first learn how to unsheathe the sword, boy”, he speaks patiently. “And only then you will swing the basis like this…”

Edgar has the dark eyes of your father, but the hair of your husband. Except by these features, it’s a common consent that Mercia’s next ruler is very much like you.

“Be careful, husband! Edgar is not yet five”, you say, at the same time keeping an eye to the maids who look after Ædyth, 3, and Osbert, 2.

When Osferth meets your gaze, you still freeze, mesmerized by the unique kind of joy only a man like him could make you feel. After all these years? Always, you’d say to your sister.

“I will, my love. I assure you that, whatever has Finan told you about me, I’ve grown prudent”, he chuckles.

“I’m just assuring you, this is all.”

“You are fussing”, you hear a familiar voice that makes you turn your head to. It’s Stiorra, the happily queen of York. “You didn’t think I’d miss your labor, would you?”

At times you forget your belly is heavier…

“With many matters to attend, my sister, I honestly wouldn’t expect you to. But you know how grateful I am by your company.”

The thread is briefly interrupted as you are distracted by the shout of your youngest children. Osbert is crying for a reason and Ædyth is claiming she can hold a sword.

You give Stiorra a look before playing the role of a mother. As Osferth fussed with his son’s hair, thus finishing the training, his eyes linger at the familiar scenario.

“Who’d ever known we would come all this way?”, when he turns it’s Finan who speaks.

Today, he came with Uhtred for a familiar visit that has, however, political implications. It appears that Brida has been planning a vengeance at Uhtred, so the northern warlord came to ask for Mercian aid—specially when your royal uncle is not excited at the prospect of borrowing your father some men to impede this alleged Danish invasion.

“God writes in mysterious ways”, says the former monk.

“You deserve this, my friend. You have a wife who loves you, and she is rich, possessing lands and enough silver for a lifetime”, both friends laugh at his remark. “And what about your children? I’ll ensure that Edgar is training by my sons’ side when time is come.”

“You can always bring them here”, suggests Osferth. “Y/N doesn’t want to acknowledge but in due time our boy will have his own household, so he must be surrounded by good and loyal friends.”

“I’ll consider it with my wife. It’s an excellent suggestion”, Finan agrees.

As the day turns into night and the guests, as well the children, are set to sleep, Osferth and you finally have a moment to yourselves.

“What a day”, says he in the moment he slides at his side of the bed.

“Indeed. Grandmother has been very, uh, busy with our children. I fear she might spoilt them too much”, you shake your head, in reference to the King Ælfred’s wife who’s been with you since your mother’s premature demise.

Osferth is on his elbow, stroking your hair as he ensures you are comfortable.

“She enjoys a privilege few do: meeting her great-grandchildren, another generation of the old king’s blood.”

You lean into his touch, locking hands with his, watching your husband blow away a few candles.

“You bring me great delights, my love.”

“The seed is strong”, he teases you, making you chuckle quietly.

“Don’t be silly, Osferth.”

With moonlight finding its way stubbornly through half closed curtains, you see the gaze your husband casts at you. You lift your hand to play with his short hair before stroking his face.

No words are needed.

As you smile and he smiles too, you peck his lips. It is a love story and both of you said yes to it. Such is what the pens of future scribes will register.

Others will write songs. The Lady and Her Knight will echo through the centuries, with your descendants still on power somehow by the 18th century…

[idkyetxoxo]

Twenty one | Allure | The Last Kingdom

"I love you so much, my little devil," 

"I love you too,"

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───☆⋅☾⋅☆───

For thirty long days, anticipation weighed heavily upon us, each moment a relentless reminder of our helplessness. Uhtred's suggestion to speak with Sigtryggr lingered like a whispered prayer, a glimmer of hope in the encroaching darkness. Yet Edward's refusal echoed with the unwavering resolve of a king.

Aethelflaed's triumph in capturing Eoferwic breathed new life into our cause, her victory a beacon of hope amidst chaos. As her army marched south, the tide of battle seemed poised to turn in our favor.

Despite Uhtred and Pyrlig's efforts to dissuade Edward from scorched earth tactics, doubt loomed like a specter. The arrival of Young Uhtred, eyes filled with determination and fear, reminded us of the stakes. Stiorra's capture weighed heavily on our hearts.

When Sigtryggr sounded the horn, calling out to King Edward, tension peaked. Edward's demand for his children resonated with fierce paternal determination. As Sigtryggr revealed the hostages, the gravity of our situation became clear. Edward's anguish was palpable, torn between love for his children and duty to his kingdom.

In the chaos, Young Uhtred sought his father's guidance. Uhtred's words rang true, a testament to the impossible choices before us. Despite the uncertainty, his unwavering resolve offered solace. As I placed my arm around Young Uhtred's shoulders, a gesture of comfort in turmoil, I knew our resolve would be tested like never before.

As Uhtred proposed the unthinkable, offering himself up as a sacrifice in a bid for peace, the weight of his decision hung heavy in the air. Edward's assurance that Uhtred's name would be spoken of for ages to come was a little dream amidst the darkness that threatened to consume us all.

"You go, I go," I asserted. Uhtred shook his head, his expression a mix of resignation and determination.

"Look, I've heard of him," I reasoned, the words tumbling from my lips in a desperate bid for understanding. "Chances are he's heard of me. Maybe he'll be less inclined to kill us if he knows I'm Cnut's cousin," I added, grasping at any advantage that might sway our fate. Uhtred sighed, a sound heavy with the gravity of our situation, and nodded in reluctant agreement

Turning to face Sihtric, I was met with a gaze laden with concern. His disapproval was palpable, hanging in the air like a dark cloud, heavy and suffocating. "Do not give me that look," I chided, my voice carrying an edge of frustration. "Do not forget that before you, before us, this was all I did."

Sihtric's jaw tightened, his teeth gritting as he struggled to suppress his objections. He nodded, a reluctant sign of understanding and acceptance, though the worry in his eyes remained.

As Uhtred and I approached the kingdom, the tension in the air was palpable, each step a reminder of the stakes at hand. Calling out to Sigtryggr, Uhtred's voice echoed with a sense of urgency, a plea for reason in a world gone mad. Sigtryggr's agreement to make the exchange filled the air.

Entering the kingdom, we were met with the unexpected sight of a heavily pregnant Brida. "I thought you said you couldn't have children," I remarked, the words tinged with disbelief. Brida's response was sharp and quick. "Sorry to disappoint" Her words a reminder of the complexities that defined our relationship.

As Sigtryggr led us to the hall, tension hung in the air like a heavy fog. Seated on the floor, I watched as Uhtred and Sigtryggr's confrontation unfolded before me.

Sigtryggr's revelation about Stiorra sent a shiver down my spine. Unsheathing my dagger, I stood my ground, the promise of vengeance burning bright in my eyes.

"If you have touched her, or so much as disturbed a hair on her head, trust me, I will take off your fingers one by one myself," I threatened, my voice dripping with venom. Sigtryggr's unsettling smirk only fueled my anger, a chilling reminder of the power he held over us.

"I do not doubt it one bit. Cnut's cousin, right? I've heard so much about you," Sigtryggr's voice sliced the air, his words both a taunt and an acknowledgment.

"There are many tales about your life floating around," he continued, his tone laced with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. "Beauty and chaos intertwined, they say."

Taking a step closer, I felt the air crackle with anticipation, the space between us charged with the electricity of impending confrontation.

He placed a hand on my cheek, a smug smirk spreading across his face, without hesitation, I retaliated by positioning my dagger against his neck. "I agree," he said, his voice a low, mocking drawl. "You do prove to be the living embodiment of chaos and beauty intertwined."

My blade pressed deeper into his skin, a thin line of blood appearing where the edge bit into flesh. Slowly, he began to remove his hand.

"Touch me again, and I'll carve that smirk off your face." I bit back, removing my dagger from his neck and taking a step back.

Sigtryggr's hand fell to his side, his eyes never leaving mine. "You are as fierce as they say," he remarked, his tone now tinged with a begrudging respect.

"Do not worry, your niece is untouched," Sigtryggr added, his words a balm to the raw edges of my frayed nerves. I paused, the weight of his promise settling over me like a heavy cloak.

"I wish to strike a bargain," Sigtryggr began, his voice slicing through the silence like a clarion call. He turned to Uhtred, his gaze heavy with unspoken intent.

"All you have to do is get Edward to agree to a meeting and argue terms," he continued. Uhtred's eyes flickered with a mixture of resolve and uncertainty.

"Let's see if your king is as reasonable as you are passionate" he added as Uhtred and I walked out together.

As we reached the courtyard, the air thrummed with the echoes of battle, the clash of steel and the cries of the wounded a haunting refrain in the symphony of war. Uhtred's plea for reason cut through the chaos like a knife.

As Edward and Sigtryggr stood down, the weight of their decision hung heavy in the air, a fragile truce in a world torn apart by conflict. 

As Aethelflaed, Edward, and Sigtryggr ventured into the hall to negotiate. Uhtred left to find Stiorra. Meanwhile, I embarked on a quest to find my own person.

Seeking comfort in the familiar embrace of Sihtric, I let myself become enveloped in his warmth.

"We weren't apart that long," I chuckled, the sound of my laughter mingling with the echoes of his affectionate embrace. Sihtric's response was a whispered confession, "It felt long enough."

──☆⋅☾⋅☆──

Stiorra's departure with Sigtryggr and the Danes was a poignant reminder of the sacrifices demanded by the currents of war.

"Promise me you'll come visit," Stiorra's plea resonated in the air, her words a testament to the bonds that bound us together. Her earnest gaze held a mirror to the depths of her longing.

"I will, and if anything ever goes wrong with him, you will find me right away," I urged, my words a silent vow that hung heavily in the air.

"You have been taught your skills by the best. Do not be afraid to use them if needed," I added, my tone firm and encouraging.

"You are no ordinary woman," I finally declared, my voice a whisper of empowerment in a world that sought to silence the voices of the courageous. With a gentle caress, I bestowed upon her a kiss on the cheek.

As we left Winchester behind, with a little boy in tow, our journey to Cookham was filled with a sense of relief.

──☆⋅☾⋅☆──

Arriving in Cookham felt like a reprieve, a sanctuary from the chaos that had engulfed us in Winchester. "Ale later?" I suggested, turning to the men whose eager nods mirrored my own anticipation.

As everyone dispersed to find their own way, Sihtric remained by my side. Sensing his presence behind me, I led him into my room.

"So," I began, the word hanging in the air like a whispered promise. "So," he echoed, his voice a gentle murmur that mirrored the depths of my own thoughts.

Seated on the edge of the bed, I watched as he approached, his movements deliberate yet filled with a quiet intensity. As he settled between my legs, his arms enveloping me in a tender embrace, I felt the weight of his presence wash over me like a warm tide.

"What are you thinking?" I inquired, the words a gentle invitation into the labyrinth of his thoughts. 

"How do you know I'm thinking?" he countered, his words tinged with a hint of playful scepticism. I laughed lying back on my bed as he climbed on top of me supporting his weight with his hands.

"Because you are poking your tongue out the corner of your mouth," I whispered, a soft smile playing at the corners of my lips as his touch brushed against my skin.

"I'm thinking of ways to ask you to marry me," he said. 

In that moment, my breath caught in my throat, my senses heightened by the weight of his confession. My eyes widened with a mixture of surprise and anticipation, the magnitude of his words washing over me like a wave crashing upon the shore.

"Marry me?" I questioned, the words escaping my lips in a whisper, his nod, a silent affirmation, sent a tremor through my body.

Leaning down, he brushed his lips against mine, a tender caress that spoke volumes of the love that bound us together.

"I want you to marry me," he murmured against my lips, his words a fervent plea that echoed the desires of his heart. With each syllable, I felt the weight of his longing, the depth of his commitment.

"I want you, all of you," he declared, his voice a symphony of love and longing. "I want every single part of you. I want to be able to say that woman right there is my wife."

"I want men to look at me and be jealous that you chose me, that out of every single man that has fought for your love, for your affection, you chose me," he finished, his words echoing with a vulnerability that touched the depths of my soul.

He took my hands in his, his eyes never leaving mine, filled with unwavering sincerity. "I promise nothing will change. I will do everything you want, everything your heart desires, because I am willing to do whatever it takes if it means I can have you."

As his confession hung in the air, I couldn't help but reflect on the twists and turns of fate that had led us to these crossroads. Memories of Thyra's suggestion in the fields of Winchester flashed through my mind, a poignant reminder of the doubts and hesitations that had once clouded my heart.

As I gazed into his eyes, twin pools of warmth and sincerity, a sense of clarity washed over me. "Yes," I breathed, the word a whispered affirmation that reverberated through the air like a solemn vow. "Yes," I repeated, louder this time.

In that moment, as his face lit up with joy, I felt a sense of peace settle over me, a reassurance that we were meant to be together. As he brought his lips down to mine with a passion that ignited the very air around us, I surrendered to the intoxicating dance of desire and longing.

His hands tangled in my hair, pulling me closer with a fervour that mirrored the intensity of our emotions. As he rolled us over, positioning me on top of him, I felt the weight of his love envelop me.

"I love you so much, my little devil," he murmured, his words a whispered promise of a future filled with endless possibilities. "I love you too," I whispered in return, the words a testament to the depth of my affection.

───☆⋅☾⋅☆───

last chapter so emosh dw still got an epilogue left though 🥹🥹

[quitealotofsodapop]

Yē Lín throws an apple at Macaque when he first abandoned Wukong in the mountain. When he sees Macaque on FFM again after leaving Wukong the second time, it's a tomato. The biggest, most rotten tomato he could find (which is difficult on a mountain with perpetually never spoiling fruit). Or if LBD's powers somehow allow others to physically see Yē Lín, he'll lay into Macaque for leaving Wukong like

Yē Lín: Liu'er Mihou, how dare you shown your face to me after abandoning my Stone Flower's cub for the second time! I didn't want to forgive you the first time, but I did, for Wukong's sake. I trusted you to have learned your lesson and to look after my boy and his cubs, to be there and support him. And what did you do!? Leave him alone, again! Pregnant, again!

The whole time, Macaque is prostrating himself in apology to his father-in-law. Pigsy is a hit confused cuz who's the new ghost monkey until MK explains that's Grandpa Yē Lín and he's been a since before his mom had hatched and is actually his paternal grandpa.

prev XD yes, disapproving ghost papa!

Macaque can also hear Yē Lín even if he can't see him - his six ears plague him with the sounds of deceased monkey demons, but especially one of a scholarly man yelling at him for "abandoning my [his] son". Macaque assumes that the spirit means a fellwo soldier lost to the Burning or the War itself, and can only offer his condolences.

Until he's infected with LBD's power (either from possession or investigation), and sees a furious brown-furred monkey spirit trying his best to toss fruit at him.

MK just happily introduces the gang to his ghost Grandpa, his mom's + Luzhen's dad.

Tang makes a squealing gasp: "THE MONKEY KING HAS A DAD!?!"

Yē Lín just laughs, the rage that just had Macaque bowing so low that his face was buried in sand now gone.

Yē Lín: "I'll admit, I wasn't sure how much of my dao he would take from me personally. But he got my height and my book sense! Now his mother, my beloved Stone Flower [*dreamy sigh*], she's the one he takes most after- " MK, light-hearted whisper: "Now you got him going on about grandma. He won't stop for hours."

Macaque is afraid to lift his head for most of those hours. His father-in-law scares him.

And by Nuwa, he's contemplating letting the earth take him when Guanyin, and his mother-in-law get there. XD

[chaosverseline]

Imu sama as monkey d luffy great grandmother

I had a crazy idea

It a mixture of a lot of one piece theories regarding luffy’s family.

First off , Instead of imu sama being luffy’s mom.I am making imu sama as luffy’s great grand “mother”.

Why?

Because here is how it works,

Imu sama is the immortal ruler of the world government (pronouns are them and they. despite this they prefer female fashion),But secretly yearns for freedom , but can’t because of the responsibility of running the government.

Quoting from a Reddit post, “To make it simple: Imu ……..related to ya boi Joy Boi and because she is a a ruler she Needs to act like one in front of everyone….”

Imu sama may not be able to experience “full freedom”. however ,when they did have free time ,they would traveled around the world and go sightseeing in a disguise.

During this they met a young man named……….

……..xebec d rocks.

Yes that rocks.

But during this time ,rocks isn’t a pirate yet.

Or maybe he was just starting out .

What happens between imu and rocks was what started out as a friendship ,Then to lovers and yeah they banged.

Resulting a adorable baby girl ,The princess of Mary geoise. For now, we call her “Yriaf” for simplicity sake.

After Yriaf birth, rocks loves his daughter but still left to continue his pirate career.Which made imu bitter and harbor a grudge against pirates.

Imu and xebec broke up and went on to their separate ways,Imu takes Yriaf with them,But allows xebec to call from den den mushi ,writes letters and sent presents to their daughter ,Using a cipher pol agent (who swore secrecy )to deliver the mail.

Yriaf grew up to be a kind and benevolent woman despite being the princess of Mary geoise. She disliked the attitude of the celestial dragons and slavery. She treats people like her equal and tries her best to free the slaves and help treat/heal/nurse the injure/sick ones until they are healthy to go home or stay with her (she would pay them with wages)if they don’t have a place to stay.Sadly, she was banned from buying more than six slaves per month by imu sama

Imu sama didn’t do this to be cruel,They are worried about Yriaf getting the wrong people’s suspicions. Imu sama honesty didn’t like the whole slavery system ,But the majority of the world nobles wanted this and imu have to go along. otherwise imu will become unpopular and risk getting deposed or worse case scenario,Getting Killed.

As much power imu has,Imu can’t protect Yriaf if all the world nobles voices their disapproval (Kinda like Garp’s situation ).

because of this ,Imu is strict with their daughter.Eventually Yriaf ran off to her father’s ship to get some fresh air from the royalty business. There she met her father’s crew and develop a relationship with one of the crew mates. Rocks is fine with it,after a long shovel talk.

Imu sama,However…… is a total different story.

Imu straight up disapproves.

But there is nothing imu can do, Other than sending cipher pol assassins to watch but not kill the crew mate who caught their sweet daughter’s eyes.

Yraif marries the crew mate,Whose name is Edward Newgate,Yes that Newgate.

Their child would eventually be known as crocodile.

Yes that crocodile.

Then imu noticed changes in rocks as the years goes by,How by each passing year,Xebec getting even more crueler and unhinged, starting to have bloodthirsty ambitions thanks to his devil fruit that messed up his brain, until imu can no longer recognized the man they had used to loved.

For now,Xebec’s sanity is barely keeping together thanks to his paternal love for their daughter .But imu is not taking any chances if one day xebec snaps and cause irreversible harm to his own crew and potentially to imu’s family. Besides,Imu is still mad about xebec choosing career over them and the lack of child support other than toy stuff animals and unhealthy snacks. Yes ,imu can be petty like that.

So imu hires a hit on xebec, saying xebec is a terrorist threat and a crazy manic. Then sends a message to the elders to inform the world government of this dangerous individual.

Battle of god valley happens and imu takes back Yriaf. Gives her a decision to either take crocodile and never met up with Edward again or hand the custody of crocodile to Edward and forbids yriaf from meeting them again, save for one day per 5 years. Imu allows for calling via den den mushi for during the whole time but that’s it .

The princess chose the 2nd option and tearfully waved good bye to her love and child.

Years pass, crocodile left the white beard pirate crew and joins the revolutionary. Also get knocked up by monkey d dragon.

When Imu founds out , they are not pleased , But At least they gotten a great grand child out of it.

His name is ……

Monkey d luffy.

Pure Chaos.

[milacandless77]

𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐀𝐔 | 𝐉𝐔𝐉𝐔𝐓𝐒𝐔 𝐊𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐍

ηαηαмι кєηтσ/ яєαɗєя ѕυgυяυ gєтσυ/яєαɗєя gσנσ ѕαтσяυ/ яєαɗєя

IMPECCABLE— NANAMI KENTO

cнαρтєя 6: αѕρнуxια

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

The tension in the room was palpable; every second seemed to stretch out in an uncomfortable silence. Nanami cleared his throat nervously and averted his gaze to anywhere else in the room, avoiding eye contact with Itadori and, more importantly, with you.

You had messed up, or rather, Itadori had, by revealing those marks on your neck.

"Itadori!" you slapped his hand. "This is not the time," you said as you adjusted the collar of your sweater, which had been disarranged during the scuffle.

"What? Of course, it’s the time. If you don't want Nanamin to hear, he can cover his ears," he said, pointing at Nanami. "Nanamin, cover your ears!"

"I’m not going to participate in this conversation," Nanami said, slowly approaching you two, causing your legs to tremble. "Itadori, the session is over. Follow me outside."

Nanami grabbed Itadori by the shoulders and led him out of the office, while you followed them towards the elevator, feeling an overwhelming sense of shame. You could hear Itadori trying to continue with his questions, but the blond stopped him with a disapproving look, as if he were his father.

When the boy tried to whisper something to you, Nanami reprimanded him vocally.

"Itadori," he said sternly, "you need to learn to be more discreet," he touched his shoulder, signaling him to stop and wait for you to enter the elevator first.

Inside the elevator, a question arose in your mind: What was Itadori doing there so often? Was he also in therapy? You decided to return the favor for what he had done to you and asked him directly.

"Itadori, how did you meet Mr. Nanami?"

Both of them instantly paled. Clearly, they were hiding something. Itadori tried to stifle his laughter, while Nanami clenched his jaw in irritation.

"Did you hear that? She called you mister," Itadori said, trying not to laugh as he covered his mouth.

"And didn’t you hear her question? What are you doing here?" Nanami emphasized each word.

"Well, you see... I think it’s time to tell her," Itadori replied determinedly, stepping closer to you again.

"Are you sure? You don’t have to if you really don’t want to," Nanami stopped him with an extremely paternal air.

"Yes, I’m sure," Itadori said, taking your hands. "You see, this is a bit weird to mention, but I have a relative who’s been hospitalized here for a couple of years."

You felt a surge of surprise and some guilt for having asked him with the intention of getting back at him. Before you could continue speaking quickly and apologize for being indiscreet now, Itadori cut you off to continue.

"What? How? Does Nobara know? Why didn’t you tell us?" you spoke so quickly it was almost like you were starting a rap battle.

"Yes, Nobara knows, but a few days ago... Ah! The day we went to the hospital and I gave you the card," he continued as you walked towards the reception. "It’s my brother, my twin, actually."

You were in shock. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

"Uh..." was all you managed to say as you raised a finger, as if that could help you process the information.

"Well, you know my mother passed away a few years ago and my father lives far from here," he said with a shy smile. "So when my brother was hospitalized here, I met Nanamin, who has supported me through everything!"

You observed Nanami, who seemed surprised by the affectionate mention. Everything started to make sense, but there were still many unanswered questions. Why hide that he had a twin brother? And why had he been hospitalized for so long?

While Nanami and Itadori were speaking with the receptionists, you were still processing everything. You watched as they handed a card to Itadori, who signed it, as did Nanami, probably to confirm his authorization. They handed it back to your friend. After that, Nanami turned to you with a warm smile.

"It was a pleasure to meet you. Remember, I'm here to address all your needs and guide you through this process step by step," the blonde said, giving you a pat on the shoulder. The gesture made your oversized sweater shift again, revealing the hickeys on your neck from the previous night. You felt his gaze linger there before he quickly refocused on your face, maintaining the soft smile he had lost moments before. He cleared his throat slightly and adjusted his tie. The grip on his tie highlighted the veins in his hands, triggering inappropriate thoughts in you, until you remembered your pink-haired best friend standing nearby.

Nanami then bid farewell to both of you and headed towards the elevators, mentioning he needed to return to his office quickly. This left you and your friend in an awkward silence as Itadori waited for his elevator to arrive. Itadori decided to break the silence.

"So... do you want to meet him?" he asked cheerfully, startling you. "Come on, it'll be fun!"

"I'm not sure, Itadori. Do you think it's appropriate? Maybe I should wait here at reception. I'm a stranger and..."

"Don't be silly, Nobara met him the same day I told her. You have to meet him too," he said, dragging you to the elevator forcefully.

Despite your doubts, there was no turning back. The elevator arrived at its destination, and you started feeling more anxious. Walking down the visitor's corridor, you finally reached some white doors where they showed the card to the guards. You were surprised they let you in as well, given you didn't have your own card, but you assumed it was one per visit, not per person.

The mental health hospital was beautiful, but this particular area gave you a sense of danger. You decided to ignore that feeling to avoid worrying your friend and sat at an elegant table. Meanwhile, he approached the vending machine for snacks and coffee. You weren't surprised to see him using the machine quickly, as you'd observed this behavior from him in other places. Seeing him do it here didn't disconcert you much.

You nervously analyzed the visitor's area, noticing the two guards in a corner while your friend was a few meters away from you. You saw several tables with chairs for other patient visits. However, it seemed strange that all were empty at that moment, leaving you alone. It was then that your friend interrupted your thoughts by offering you something.

"Here," said Itadori, handing you a cup of coffee as he settled into his chair.

"Thanks, Itadori," you replied, appreciating the gesture as you adjusted in your seat.

"Oh, Itadori! I'll be right back; we'll bring Ryōmen Sukuna shortly," a doctor interrupted, and your mind started to worry about meeting this twin brother.

Seconds passed, each heavier than the last. The doctor returned with a man dressed in white, who was unbound upon entering. When you saw him, a chill ran down your spine. He looked identical to Itadori but so different: covered in tattoos, with a creepy gaze and red eyes that you initially thought you were imagining, but it wasn't so. His presence deeply intimidated you, but Itadori greeted him with a warm smile.

Seeing Itadori's gesture, you forced yourself to smile too, feeling that maybe you were unfairly judging your friend's brother.

Several minutes, maybe even an hour, passed, but you hadn't participated in the conversation. Every time Itadori tried to include you, Sukuna would give you a strange look and change the subject so you couldn't be included. You decided to stay silent, staring at your coffee, relaxing, thinking at least you didn't have to engage in a conversation you didn't want to have since you started this journey. The man didn't seem like a bad person while talking to his brother, but he was grumpy, arrogant, and had a dark humor that just hearing it made you uneasy, to which you only responded with sidelong glances.

Suddenly, Itadori's phone began to ring insistently, interrupting the conversation they were having without you.

"Itadori, your phone," you said, thinking it might be the first time you spoke in a few minutes.

Seeing the missed calls from Nanami, Itadori quickly stood up.

"Just a moment, I have to call Nanami back. I'll leave you alone for a bit, okay?"

Before you could object, he was already gone. You looked back at Sukuna, who was now smiling at you malevolently, a gesture he hadn't shown while your friend was present.

"You know, I like you much more than the other woman Itadori brought last time," he suddenly said. You thought he might be referring to your friend Nobara, but his terrifying smile kept making your hair stand on end.

"Oh... really? Why's that?" you asked, feeling that maybe you were making a mistake by going along with him.

"It's been years since I've seen someone like you," he said, widening his smile. "So long without seeing someone like me."

"What do you mean by that? Excuse me, but I don't think I'm like you," you looked at him confused. You didn't understand what he meant by "being like him," but his tone filled with filth made you nauseous.

The man began laughing maniacally, increasing your terror towards him.

"Don't you know your friend well? Don't be surprised if the whole hospital knows about your strange case," he leaned in to whisper in your ear. "Even I've heard about what you did. Rumors spread fast anywhere. You're different from your friend; she's a prude pretending to be strong, but you...," he paused to look at you from a bit further away, "why do you pretend to be so pure while being so strong?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, I don't know what you did to be in here, but it must have been horrible, so don't compare me to you."

That made him explode like a volcano. Everything happened so fast that you barely felt the hot coffee burn your face, causing a sharp pain in your eyes. Though the heat quickly subsided, the situation escalated when his hands grabbed your neck, starting to choke you without giving you a chance to defend yourself. His weight violently threw you to the ground, toppling tables and chairs with you.

"I can smell it, feel it, sense it since you walked in, that smell of guilt crumbling into an impassive tranquility that feels like victory," he whispered near your ear, tightening his grip on your neck with each word, stealing your breath. You tried to push him away, but it was impossible no matter how much you kicked.

The guards tried to intervene, but there was no force to stop him. Your strength to push him away was draining as you saw white spots on the ceiling. Were you passing out? Or was he about to kill you? You couldn't understand why the guards' strength couldn't stop him; it was as if he were rooted to the ground, determined to hurt you.

"Come on, admit it, you're glad he's not here anymore. You can fool anyone, even the idiots here, but you'll never fool someone like me. I can tell you don't regret anything that happened," he kept whispering in your ear diabolically.

You couldn't call for help, but in your mind, you were screaming desperately for it. You didn't know where Itadori was or why he hadn't returned. You needed someone to come quickly. You were crying uncontrollably, feeling that if he tightened a bit more, he would break your neck. The burning pain of the coffee on your skin was nothing compared to the choking. You felt like you were about to wet yourself, not figuratively, but literally, from the fear he was causing.

You heard the swinging doors slam against the wall, echoing in the room. You didn't know who had come to save you, but relief flooded you. As soon as Sukuna saw the person, he loosened his relentless grip slightly.

You tried to look up, but the pain in your neck prevented you, as if every movement were torture.

"Sukuna! What have you done?" When you recognized that voice, your heart began to race. Nanami quickly pulled Sukuna off you and placed you behind him with a look of horror and concern.

The blonde held you gently, helping you stand as you leaned on him. However, everything was blurry, sounds were hollow, and your legs wouldn't stop trembling. You didn't understand anything they were saying. You only perceived Nanami's presence, standing in front of you with a look that screamed from miles away, "are you okay?" to which you could only respond with an expression of pure terror.

Your expression was more than enough for Nanami, who desperately tried to keep you close with his firm but gentle hands on your arms. His breathing was heavy, and his concern for the situation was palpable, but despite his efforts, you backed away.

You felt an increasing sense of anxiety, exactly like or even worse than when your ex-boyfriend died. You felt disconnected from reality. You began to distance yourself from the scene, watching as the security guards handcuffed the man who had choked you. You saw Nanami saying something to Itadori with frantic gestures, but in your confusion, you couldn't hear any of the words exchanged between them. The sound became increasingly inaudible, and your vision turned into a constant whirl, as if you were trapped in a spinning chamber.

Slowly, your trembling hands felt along the wall as you moved backward in search of the door, afraid to turn your head. Finally, you found it and began to make your way out, but your hesitant steps caused you to stumble forward. You tried urgently to get up, but the pain in your neck and the weight on your chest prevented you. You attempted to move your legs, but they seemed paralyzed, as if fear had petrified you. You felt the urge to run, to escape, but you were completely immobilized, trapped in a nightmare with no way out.

You heard someone calling you abruptly, approaching urgently, almost begging for you to react. You recognized Nanami's voice, and behind him was Itadori, his expression laden with guilt and sorrow.

Nanami gently held your face and jaw, calling your name with a voice full of concern, desperately hoping you would snap out of it. However, your responses remained nonexistent, trapped in a state of paralysis that seemed endless.

"Itadori, we need to take her to my office immediately," Nanami said urgently, carefully lifting you as he hurried toward the elevator, with Yuuji following closely behind, visibly worried about your condition.

Despite being aware of everything happening around you, you felt utterly weak. You couldn't understand why you couldn't move or fight for yourself. You were caught in a post-traumatic trance, unable to respond to their desperate calls for you to snap out of it. You felt your body rise and fall as Nanami hurriedly carried you through the corridors; from the way he held you, you could hear his accelerated heartbeat echoing in the environment.

Upon reaching the office door, you heard a doctor open it without needing either of the men accompanying you to input the code. Upon entering, you noticed that the psychologist Shoko was also present, whose calm expression instantly turned to horror upon seeing you in that trance-like state.

Both the doctor and the psychologist began examining you professionally once you were on the mobile stretcher. It was evident that Nanami had instructed them to meet in his office after the incident, while you were barely heading there.

"We need to start cutting her sweater; whatever was thrown at her is stuck and hindering treatment of the hematoma," the doctor commented, while the psychologist shone a light into your eyes to try to awaken you, but received no response.

The cold edge of the medical scissors brushed against your skin and the sweater, beginning to cut it. It was then that you finally reacted. You inhaled deeply as if coming back to life, sitting up on the stretcher with a ragged breath and a reaction that echoed your hospital experience a few days prior; only this time your mother wasn't by your side, but other people were.

As you sat up, the doctor halted the cutting, and the psychologist turned off the light. Itadori expressed relief at your recovery, and Nanami gently held your cheeks, bringing your face close to his. In those moments of locked gazes, his reflected deep concern while yours showed confusion. Despite the respectful distance between you, the nervousness you felt being near him intensified, as if each of his breaths resonated within you. Those fleeting glances seemed to convey much more than could be expressed in words. Right at that moment, you could confirm you were back to yourself, as the man once again managed to make you feel nervous as he had done a couple of hours earlier.

The moment lingered, as if time stood still, until Itadori intervened between apologies and regrets for what happened with his brother.

"I...," you tried to speak, but something caught in your throat. You glanced down and realized that the sweater, which belonged not to you but to Satoru, was being cut by the scissors, a somewhat silly concern in the midst of the emergency.

"This sweater isn't mine, you can't cut it," you blurted out quickly, almost in a rush, until Nanami placed his hand on yours.

"Calm down, please," he almost begged you to achieve it; his gaze instantly calmed you. You were willing to do anything he said; there was something about him that conveyed an unwavering willingness to obey and believe him. If he told you the sky was yellow, you would probably believe him even if it were the opposite. The edge of the scissors approached the fabric of the sweater again, revealing the skin of your neck marked by the hematoma from strangulation.

As the scissors advanced relentlessly, you felt the penetrating gazes of both men fixed on the marks on your neck, where the cruel testimony of Sukuna's hands was beginning to reveal itself and the visible hickeys adorned the strangulation marks in a way that seemed like a cruel joke due to the double entendre suggested by the image, even though it was unintentional. You squirmed uncomfortably, longing for that intense gaze to cease, as if both were now in a trance. Itadori's face reflected horror and concern, his eyes overflowing with anguish as he followed every movement of the scissors. In contrast, Nanami seemed lost in his own thoughts, his cold gaze only interrupted by the sudden swallow that made his Adam's apple bob. You shot a warning look at both of them, hoping Nanami would quickly grasp your message through it; you didn't want them to see you exposed and appreciated that he did because he quickly spoke again:

“Itadori, we need to leave so they can properly attend to your friend” Nanami interrupted, still observing your neck. He grasped Itadori's arm and they began to leave the room immediately.

After both men left, you began to be treated rigorously. Psychologist Shoko asked you questions about how you were feeling and subjected you to various psychometric tests, while the doctor began to clean your wounds and the sticky coffee that someone had thrown at you. You felt uncomfortable being only in a bra in front of two strangers, but that embarrassment diminished when you felt ointment being applied to your neck. You let out a groan of discomfort before they began to bandage you gently.

Although you tried to focus on what they were saying, your mind kept returning to Nanami. The nervousness and intensity of his gazes still resonated with you, and you couldn't help but think about the concern he had shown. You felt much more bound to him, as if his presence had a calming and protective power over you. Every memory of his gentle touch on your cheeks and the way he had held your gaze made your heart beat faster, longing to have even a little more of him.

You had no idea what to wear now, let alone them, who were just doing their job. You were informed that you had no broken bones and did not need your neck to be cast, but you would have to wear the bandages for a few days due to the hematoma, which would continue to bother you for a week or even more. Without saying more, the doctor left, leaving you alone with Shoko.

“Stay here. I'll ask Nanami or Itadori if they have a T-shirt they can lend you” Shoko said as she headed for the door. All you could think was that maybe Satoru would hate you for accidentally tearing his sweater apart, and that it was already too embarrassing to ask for so much borrowed clothing in one day.

Your thoughts were interrupted when Shoko quickly returned and began rummaging through a small closet hidden in the office. Did this place have everything? you wondered.

“Here, you can use this T-shirt from Doctor Nanami” she showed you a perfectly ironed white T-shirt, still hanging on its hanger.

“No, I don't...” you tried to say, but Shoko cut you off.

“Don't worry, insist on using it. Itadori was going to lend you his jacket, but the Doctor intervened” she told you with a calm look, although it did not diminish the nervousness that the man, who was not even present yet, caused you.

You decided not to argue further and started putting it on, realizing that the garment was much larger than Satoru's; you could make a dress or even socks out of it. It was an excessive amount of fabric for your body, but you appreciated the gesture and how it covered your neck, something Itadori's jacket wouldn't have achieved.

You didn't need to be very intelligent to realize that that small closet with dress shirts, and probably also pants, was for emergencies. All you could think was that Nanami was a smart, handsome, and chivalrous man, and now apparently also foresighted. You dropped your head back, thinking about how perfect he seemed, but a sharp pain in your neck reminded you that you couldn't do that for a while.

“Ouch” was all you managed to say before seeing Nanami enter the room with Itadori. Shoko quickly disappeared again with some cigarettes in her hand, not having the slightest idea where she got them.

Nanami looked at you with a mixture of concern and tenderness, his eyes reflecting a deep care that made you feel an unexpected warmth. Itadori also showed relief at seeing you, but it was Nanami's presence that made your heart beat faster. You realized that, despite the pain and discomfort, his mere presence had a calming effect on you, making you feel safe and appreciated amidst the chaos you had gone through.

Nanami approached you with measured and careful steps, as if each movement was deliberately calculated not to cause you more distress.

“How are you feeling?” he asked in a soft but firm voice, his eyes never leaving yours.

Itadori, standing aside, looked on with a mix of respect and concern.

“I'm okay” you lied, managing a weak smile. But Nanami didn't seem convinced; his expression turned more serious, almost pained.

“I... you have no idea how sorry I am” said Itadori, entering the conversation as he delicately held your hand “ I don't know what to do to make it up to you, I don't know how everything happened. It was my fault, I shouldn't have left you alone with him. I don't understand how his attitude turned back to how it was before.”

You wondered how his brother had been before, but you really didn't want to know more about the person who almost ended your existence. So you decided not to ask the question out loud.

“Itadori” Nanami sighed with a sign of exhaustion “I don't know what you were thinking letting her in to see a patient who is still classified as high risk. I know days ago I allowed your other friend to visit him with you, but I was also under supervision. You can't just let any stranger in just because you feel like it.”

Now you felt incredibly guilty. You didn't like how Nanami was scolding Itadori; you knew there was disappointment in his tone, something that made you sad and much more to Itadori, who looked like a reprimanded dog with his ears down.

“I'm so sorry, Itadori. I should have stayed in reception, I should have been more stubborn. Now, perhaps because of me, your brother will be hospitalized much longer. I'm so sorry” you said, touching Itadori's shoulder gently. He quickly wrapped you in a hug, but as that hug continued, you watched Nanami, who behind Itadori made a slight gesture of annoyance as he turned his head, denying what you were saying.

Maybe he wanted you to stop, not to get into the discussion. But you had to do it. He was your friend and you didn't want his brother, as despicable as he was, to be affected by your presence during the visit.

The hug lasted several minutes, with regrets and apologies exchanged between them. It was still uncomfortable to have Nanami behind you with his usual serious expression. However, you started to ignore him once you focused all your attention on Itadori. When the hug ended, you saw how Itadori began to wipe his snot, which made you laugh between tears until Nanami interrupted both of them.

“Well, if you don't mind, I'd like to take you both home” he said, taking a pause to focus on you especially “Both of you.”

You just obeyed. Itadori had his tail between his legs since he had been scolded in front of you and surely also during the time you were unconscious, although you couldn't hear him clearly. On the other hand, you didn't need to be scolded by him to object to anything he said. In addition, his denial during the hug was more than enough to keep you submissive for a while. The man was intimidating, but in a good sense.

As they headed to the hospital's underground parking lot, you started looking for his car among the others. It wasn't until you heard the sound of the key he had in his hand that one of the cars responded. You wanted to sigh. Were all these people in the city millionaires except you? It was a pretty elegant sports car to be real. It didn't scream ostentation, but its design radiated elegance, just like everything the man's appearance indicated.

As they approached the car more, you saw how Nanami opened the passenger door, waiting for one of you to get in. But then he mentioned your name.

“You can get in” he said, still holding the passenger door for you. However, you took a step back to respond.

“Uh, well, I think Itadori wants to go in front” you said, pushing your friend forward, but he looked at you with an expression of help that you understood perfectly: if he went ahead, he would be scolded all the way.

“No, you should go ahead, you're hurt” Itadori pushed you forward, starting a game of shoves until they heard how Nanami started holding the crown with annoyance. It seemed he was tired of both teenagers.

"Come here," he growled, opening the back door forcefully and pushing the redhead inside before slamming it shut. Then he gently guided you to the passenger seat, fastening your seatbelt with some annoyance as he closed the door.

As he started the car, the journey became silent. There was some conversation between you and Itadori, but it was mere whispers, like those exchanged in class so the teacher wouldn't hear. However, Nanami could hear them. Sometimes you glanced at him with a frown of discontent, and he responded with a serious look over the steering wheel, making you lower your gaze and start playing with your fingers or staring out the window. This cycle of uncomfortable glances repeated throughout the drive.

You assumed that when they arrived at Itadori's house, he would let you both out so you could leave, but you were mistaken. When you unbuckled your seatbelt to get out with your friend, Nanami spoke again.

"Sit back down. I'll take you home," his tone was almost demanding. You glanced at Itadori for help, almost tapping the glass, but he only bid farewell with a nervous smile.

You knew another uncomfortable or even worse journey was coming up than the therapy session. You mentioned your address, to which he only nodded and continued driving. You could feel the stress emanating from him, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. You decided to remain absolutely silent, but you were surprised when he broke the silence.

"I don't know how you were able to defend Itadori's mistake," he suddenly blurted out, still keeping his gaze on the road.

"Huh?" you were puzzled.

"Just by listening to you a few minutes ago, I could tell how you were backing up his mistake. What he did was irresponsible, there's no sufficient excuse for acting like that when I didn't allow him..." he was then interrupted by you, gathering the courage to speak up now, feeling like you were being scolded by your father years ago.

"I'm sorry, but it was the truth. You have no idea how guilty I feel. Didn't you hear earlier? It's been years since his brother behaved like that. It was probably because of my presence..." you tried to explain, but he cut you off. This time it wasn't his voice, but the sudden brake of the car that, had it not been for the seatbelt, would have thrown you out. You knew he had done it intentionally, and as he stopped the car, his face showed clear annoyance even if he was profiled.

You couldn't help but watch as his perfect combed hair began to get more and more messy, revealing stress as he frantically ran his hands through it. His jaw was even more defined, tense and tight with irritation that you could even feel. He turned to you with an intense look, his eyes shining with a mix of frustration and concern, before continuing to speak.

"Just by listening to that conversation, I realized how much you care about everyone, how hard you try to take care of your friends so dedicatedly," he paused to breathe irregularly.

You tried to respond but fell silent, stammering when you tried to speak again. He interrupted you when he saw you had opened your mouth again to try to say something more.

"Tell me, when are you going to stop doing that and start worrying about yourself?" His voice was laden with frustration and something else you couldn't decipher. "It's incredible how you keep holding onto people even when they're hurting you. When are you going to let someone finally take care of you?"

His words were like a poisoned dart. As he spoke, his tone became increasingly desperate. You watched, with a knot in your stomach, as one of his hands slowly approached your neck. The tension in the air was palpable, each second seeming to stretch infinitely.

"Please, just let me take care of you," his plea was almost a whisper, but the intensity in his eyes chilled your blood.

Your eyes widened, almost popping out of their sockets, trying to understand if you had heard correctly. Confusion and fear mingled in your mind as you debated between the urge to flee and the desire to understand what was really happening.

.

Haha, this chapter was very intense in terms of emotions, in my opinion. I tried to keep it from getting too long by shortening it, but I felt that doing so would lose all the coherence and narrative flow that I struggled so hard to maintain. 😭

Sorry for the length of the chapter, I felt like I wrote a bible, but I was super inspired by Lana Del Rey's "Ultraviolence". Thank you very much for your support! 💗

I hope you like it, in the next chapter Suguru and Satoru will appear again, so don't worry. One thing I discarded in the plot while planning was Nanami being committed to someone, but honestly, it didn't convince me at all. I felt like I was forcing it because I wanted to pair him with Shoko, and besides, I would hate Rayita for breaking up a relationship—I'd be too embarrassed to write something like that because I hate those actions in real life. So, that idea was completely scrapped! I removed one complication from the plot, although there are many more haha. 🫦

—⋆mila 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

The anterior chapter:

[woso-dreamzzz]

How do Bambi’s paternal figures (Alexia, Jenni, Olivia, Alba) view her dating older women? Who is most disapproving and who is the most okay with it?

They all know they just have to accept it.

It takes Alexia the longest but Jenni's the most worried. She swears someone is going to take advantage of Bambi.

Alba and Olivia are the most okay with it although Alba will always insist it's Alexia's fault, right to her face