#she and her daughter both grab onto him and almost pull him to the ground at one point

[fireheartedpup]

I WAS going to go to bed before 3 am for Father's day, but then I heard yelling outside and went to investigate.

This is the second time in a year I've been asked to help someone call 911 in my own parking lot.

[fanwarriorfictions]

Not Again

Azriel x Rowaelin Daughter Reader

Summary: Azriel has a bad habit of finding random females falling onto the River House lawn. This time, the female in question catches him off guard, and she seems to be even stranger than the last.

Series Masterlist

-Part One-

There was a shift in the air, so subtle that it could’ve been passed off as a breeze through a cracked window. He would’ve thought just that if it hadn’t been for the keen wisps of shadows at his shoulders whispering in his ears, outside, someone’s here, outside, here, here, here, here.

The room filled with his family was non the wiser as the shadowsinger shifted towards the door, all of them talking and laughing by the fire place. Feyre and Rhys cozied up on the loveseat, little Nyx nestled in his mothers arms. Nesta sitting on Cassian’s lap, the sisters talking about the recent books they’d read, his brothers admiring their mates. Mor sipped on her third glass of wine, listening to Elain talk about her blooming garden while she absently fiddled with her still full glass, Lucien sitting comfortably by her side, content to just listen to his mate talk. Amren was nowhere to be found tonight, Varian presumably in town.

Azriel found it easy to slip out the back door, ready to deal with the supposed trouble without disturbing his family’s peace. His shadows didn’t seem alarmed, persistent, but not noting any imminent threat. Despite their ease, he found Truth Teller in his hand, ready to deal with whoever he found if necessary.

It was dark outside, the brisk night air dancing over his fire warmed skin. Calm, no sign of that subtle shift, nothing but his shadows urging him towards the garden, towards whoever was out here causing the small disturbance.

He wasn’t quite sure what he was looking for, what he was expecting to find. Maybe a drunk who wandered to far from the main streets of Velaris, maybe a curious young fae who just wanted a glimpse of the inner circle. He’d dealt with his fair share of both, gently warning them away from the home.

But whatever he’d been expecting it certainly wasn’t what he found. A female laid on the ground, clothes and skin covered with dirt and blood, her body sprawled like she’d been thrown down without care. He could sent fresh blood on her coming from a wound on her head, the stream of it dripping down onto the stones beneath her. Her breathing was steady, her heartbeat strong.

Azriel clenched the blade’s hilt tight in his hand, drawing closer to her slowly. Her scent drifted towards him on a phantom wind, pine and snow, like the mountains of Illryia. Despite his resentment of the people who lived there, the scent reminded him of home.

His shadows curiously trail around the female, finding more and more injuries, a cut on her thigh, bruising across her abdomen. Whoever she was, she had seen her fair share of violence. She was high fae, her ears arched into delicate points, though he could not discern which court she may belong too. Her clothes were to disheveled to detect a distinct style, black leather pants and a long sleeved green shirt beneath a leather vest sheathed with knives like a bandolier. Clothes that could belong to any court, maybe even from the continent.

So busy examining her he didn’t detect the change in her breathing until it was to late.

The female launched up with such speed he was almost to slow to block the attack. She’d pulled one of those knives from her vest, it’s wickedly sharp edge to close to his throat for comfort. Truth Teller blocked the blade, the metal singing against her dagger. The female was quick to pull back, not lunging again like he thought she would but reaching for a smaller knife at her ribs, it was flying through the air faster than he could blink, aiming for his eye with remarkable accuracy, Cassian would be proud of a throw like that. The only reason it didn’t take his eye was due to a shadow darting out to grab the blade midair.

The female is a blur as she lunges again, going for the arm holding his blade. He dodges back, the strike missing him by a hair. She’s fast, faster than most fae he’s fought over the centuries. He catches her next strike, a blow to his side that could’ve left him bleeding out on the floor. She pulls back and retreats a few steps, her stance shifting back like she might jump at him again.

“Stop,” he snarls at her.

She hisses, baring her teeth at him, teeth with unusually sharp canines, and then she speaks, a language he’d never heard before. And that’s when the pieces start to click, when his shadows start to whisper, not of this world, another, another world, another, another, another.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he grounds out, “not again.”

The female only snarls, reaching for another of those small wicked blades. She flips it, pinching the sharp tip between her fingers.

“Wait,” he says, sheathing his dagger at his side, “just wait.”

Her eyes track his movements, the ice cold look in them enough to make him shiver. It felt like the air around them tried to freeze under her gaze, the wind no longer a soft breeze but an ice kissed howl.

His head cocked to the side, that was her, she was controlling the wind. The air swirling around them faster and faster, colder and colder.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said though he was sure she couldn’t understand him.

He held his hands up so she could see them, willing his shadows away so he could look as unthreatening as possible. When the last unknown female had landed on this lawn, she’d fallen right in front of him, he’d been able to get his blade angled to her throat before she had anytime to react, this female on the other hand, had managed to get the jump on him first, a fact that his brothers would never let him live down.

The wind bit at his wings, discomfort sooner turning to pain if it kept up like that. It felt like the moisture in the air was turning to ice, slicing into his skin.

She repeats her words, her voice hard and unforgiving just like the wind around them. A shield, he realized, a casing of wind to block all sound, to keep others out and to keep him trapped.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he says again, hoping she can understand the plea in his tone.

Her head tilts, examining him from head to toe, a predator studying its next meal. In that moment, Azriel had never felt more like prey in his life. She had an intensity that rivaled Nesta and Amren, like she knew she was the most powerful creature in the room and she’d be happy to prove it. This female was dangerous, strong, fast, and from another world just like Bryce Quinlann, he could only hope she’d turn out to be an ally as well.

Blood still drips down her face, the cut on her brow deep and jagged, like it had been ripped across a dull object. The scent of her blood filled his nose, laced with that pine and snow, and something warm, like an ember drifting from a fire. Again, it smelled uncannily like home.

Those cold eyes flare wide, the frost bitten wind warming a fraction. Something in her posture shifts, no longer in fight mode, but flight.

“Stop,” he pleads, “hold on.”

Her voice shifts when she speaks, lighter and less harsh, he still can’t understand any of it. His confusion must be evident on his face because she scoffs, lowering the dagger to her side, still not sheathing it. The wind fades away, replaced by a warm gentle breeze that thaws his near frozen wings.

Azriel sighs in relief and she cocks her head at the sound. Her eyes take in his wings, noting the frost on them that slowly melts away. The air seems to get even warmer then.

“Thank you,” he says, bowing his head to show his gratitude, all while keeping an eye on her.

Though she seems to be less hostile, he wouldn’t let his guard down for a second around her.

He felt it then, the gentle prying talons on his mind, ones he instantly let in. Showing Rhys exactly where he was and who was before him.

Not again, Rhys sighs.

That’s what I said, Azriel replies.

And then that night kissed power settles around them, the female’s eyes hardening back to ice, dagger already raised and ready to defend herself. Azriel was half tempted to tell her it wasn’t worth it, that there was little she could do against Rhys, but he kept his mouth shut as his high lord appeared before them. Giving the female that cool charming look that had most ready to eat out of the palm of his hand.

She didn’t have that kind of reaction, instead she lifted that dagger towards his high lord, a snarl on her lips, those vicious canines on display.

“Well that’s interesting,” Rhys says, coolly looking her over, “high fae, but not one of ours.”

She snaps at him, words he couldn’t understand but by the way she ground them out Azriel could tell they weren’t niceties.

“I’m sure that was her way of calling me a prick,” Rhys chuckles, “I’d recognize it in any language.”

Azriel eyes the two of them, he has no doubts that his high lord could defend himself against the female, but after the last encounter he’d had with a foreign fae he didn’t want to underestimate her. Rhys seems to agree, Azriel can almost see the invisible attack he launches, and he sees the exact moment Rhys hits a wall of pure ice around her mind.

His high lord hisses in pain at the exact moment a bright blue light flares from the female, a mark shining on her brow. The mark like those in the book of breathings, like the horn on Bryce’s back.

The female swears, free hand touching that mark as if she could will it back beneath her skin. Her dagger is aimed for Rhys, but her eyes dance between them both, watching for any movement from Azriel, ready to take both of them on in a heartbeat if it was necessary.

“Go get Amren,” Azriel says, “and bring one of those damned translators.”

Rhys is gone within a split second, and the female is angling that dagger at Azriel instead, a warning to stay back, she makes no move to fight nor flee, her frozen stare colder than before though the air continues to stay warm.

Azriel simply holds his hands in the air, “We mean you no harm.”

She responds in that soft swirling language, his shadows writhe in answer, almost like they could understand her. She frowns at them as they travel across the ground towards her, a soft snarl from her lips has them skittering back. Interesting, the way she seems almost familiar with them, he wonders if she’d encountered fae like him before, maybe like Quinlann’s brother.

Rhys and Amren appear in that night kissed darkness, the female’s attention snapping towards them. Amren curiously examines the girl, that mark that still simmers faintly in her brow.

“Are you collecting more strays?”

Azriel doesn’t respond to the jab, watching as Amren takes the small silver bean from her pocket and throws it towards the female without warning. She catches it with ease, glancing between it and Amren with a raised brow.

“Eat,” Amren commands, miming the action, taping on her mouth as she speaks, “to understand.”

Her eyes find Azriel’s, brow quirked in confusion. He simply nods, mimicking Amren’s actions. She seems to understand that, as she lifts the translator to her mouth and swallows it down.

And just like that she erupts, not with that ice cold wind, but with fire, hotter and stronger than that of the heirs of Autumn. Maybe even hotter than Beron’s himself. A shield from Rhys traps the explosion of power though he winces from the effort of keeping her contained. The fire rages, the earth below her turning to ash in an instant. She burns so hot that the flame around her starts to turn blue. She burns and burns and burns, so bright Azriel shields his eyes, so hot that the shield around her can barely contain that heat.

Rhys does not remove the shield until that fire stops its raging, until all that’s left is smoke and ash. She had collapsed on the floor, her dagger red hot against her skin yet it doesn’t burn her hand. That mark burns brighter as she glares up at them, vibrant blue that lights up the world around them.

“A little warning would’ve been nice,” she snaps, her voice tinged with that soft accent of her language.

“Hard to do that when we don’t speak your tongue,” Amren snaps back. “Who are you?”

Her ice cold stare is unsettling as it examines them all. She stands from the ground, that red hot blade lifting towards them, the air warping from the heat.

“My name is Y/n Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius,” her voice is steady, regal, “Crown Princess of Terrasen. And I’d like to know which one of you opened the gate that dragged me here.”

[pvrkacciosan]

Moment we share

Synopsis: Holding your child for the first time is the best feeling in the world, sharing the moment with others is even better.

Pairing: Charles Lelerc X fem!reader

Warnings: Fluff! (idk,)

Word count: 924

You were utterly exhausted but you didn't want to move, largely because your whole body was aching from labour and partly because you were so infatuated with the little baby in your arms, a genetic copy of you and Charles, that you couldn't bring yourself too move.

Being at home helped, your husband was a rock of solidarity in the moments when your body wouldn't yield to your commands.

"She's perfect" Charles was hugged into the side of your bed, contently watching your daughter. Rosa Leclerc was going be a force to be reckoned with.

You shifted, trying to ease the ache building in your muscles, Charles observed you quietly from where he now stood.

"Let me take her" he didn't want to force you into letting her go again so soon,

Much to his surprise you lifted the bundle of blankets up, Charles stepped closer securing his arms to support his daughter.

You bit back the smile as the worry line on his forehead appeared, stressing over the littlest of things,

"Is this right?" He looked to you for support, the knowledge tugged something inside the hollow of your chest.

"Yeah you're fine" His shoulders were almost rigid and it took Charles a few minutes to ease into a posture that look at least half way comfortable.

"She's looking at me" Charles whispers, his voice soft.

"Hi baby" he cooed, pulling the blanket back to see her face.

Rosa yawned and as you watched Charles you were almost convinced your husband was going to combust on the very ground on which he stood.

There was a soft knock for the door, before it was pushed forwards. The muttering of French coming from the women to the people behind her. Charles family had come to visit the new Leclerc.

Your family had already been in, having been here since the moment you were hit with contractions. A home birth was always a plan for you, his family had respected your time frame and had appeared not a second before you asked them to.

Charles's mum shuffled into the room, his brothers falling in after her, tumbling over one another to be the next to hold their niece.

Charles turns to meet their stares, Rosa tucked tightly into him.

"Oh my.." his Mum leaned closer to her son, being respectful enough to not grab for your daughter as your mother had earlier. Something which had initially annoyed both you and Charles.

Despite the infant, his mother came across to your bedside, allowing his brothers that access to watch Rosa.

"How are you my darling?" Charles mum has always been lovely with you from the moment he brought you home to meet her. You need that now. Since your own parents had not been as kind, her gentle voice was soothing in a way you had once upon hoped your own mother's to sound like.

"I'm sore, but I'm fine now that's she's here"

She passed her gaze back to her three sons, practically melting over your daughter, Arthur pandering over her little fingers which gripped around one of his.

She began to unpack a bag onto your bed,

"He loves her so much", Continuing to watch your fiance, you sighed in relief when you watched her unpack tubs of homemade foods, the smell wafted across to the men.

Arthur's head popped up, he wandered across,

"Hey Y/n, you feeling okay?"

He subtly reached for a small tub of soup, his mum was quick to slap at his hands,

"Hands off, they're not for you"

Arthur grumbled but settled down into the new armchair in the corner of your room.

The conversations went on, with Charles passing Rosa between his family, each cooing and taking this moment with her.

With every moment that passed you could feel yourself wanting to drift into the embrace of sleep, Charles swirling small circles into the skin of your shoulder with the pad of his thumb was only aiding in the effect of needed sleep.

Lorenzo was smiling, making faces at Rosa, the infant laying in your mother in law's arms. Snuggled in, despite Charles conversation with his mum and youngest brother.

Your eyes were drawing heavier by the second, Pascale noticed your state, her eyes softening, she sat upright, carefully keeping a hold of your daughter.

You tried to pry your eyes open, to ask if she needed anything, but Pascale simply smiled at you, before turning to her other two sons,

"Y/n is tired, let us take our leave now." There was no room for error in her words, Arthur looked about ready to protest, but one glance your way and he nodded.

Charles squeezed your shoulder softly rising from beside you to kiss your head and walk to his mum. Pascale handed her son his daughter,

"Get some rest, Y/n you deserve it we'll be downstairs if you need anything"

Once they left it was easy to slip into the drag of the warm duvet, changed out from the towels which had previously covered your body.

Just as you had begun to drift off once more, a vibrating notification came from your phone, reaching for it you switched it to see the photo Charles had sent you from the other room.

Rosa was snuggled up into Arthur's chest once more, sleep drawing her own eyes shut.

Charles messaged popped into the screen not a second later.

. Like mother like daughter.

You couldn't breath past the swell in your throat, it was moments like this that had you realizing just how much you loved Charles and the life you had both made together, to the life you would continue.

To every little moment you would share as a family. 

.

.

.

Taglist: @80sloverry @unofficial-journalist @celestialams @mirrorball-6 @love4lando @ironmaiden1313

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Hii love you work!! Can I request a Luke castellan x daughter!of Artemis reader?? Like reader is badass and flirty with Luke, and Luke doesn't even know whether she's serious or not because he has a big fat crush on the reader ever since he met her 🥹🥹

so Luke has been praying to Artemis since then for her blessing and Artemis is just like "You are not good enough for my daughter and I don't want you around her, END OF STORY." "SO WHY DON'T YOU GIVE ME ONE MORE-" SLAM

Ends with Luke finally confessing to reader and reader accepting after a long time of deciding because reader had a crush on him for a long time now but knows her mom doesn't like Luke at all :((

HOPE YOU HAVE A GOOD DAY/NIGHT!!! <33

One more chance

A/N- I love this sm, so sorry this took a while ):

Masterlist

Warnings: you make some suggestive jokes, that’s it really

“Thought you were the best swordsman in years.” You joked, Luke was on the ground, as you pointed your sword at him.

“I’m going easy on you.” He replied, grabbing the edge of your sword. You rolled your eyes, mumbling out an ‘mhm’ as you extended your hand, helping him up.

He brushed off the dirt, picking up his own sword.

“You done yet, Castellan?” You asked him, going over to your water bottle and drinking from it.

“Nah. I can go all day.”

“Can you? I’d like to see that.” You said in a suggestive tone, laughing at his face and the way his cheeks turned a pink.

“Whatever.” He mumbled, rolling his eyes, getting back into a fighting stance.

At dinner, he disappeared into the woods. You wondered where he went sometimes, he’s been doing this for years now. But you gave him his privacy.

He sat down with his food on the ground, pulling out a match from his pocket and taking a deep breath before lighting the food on fire.

“Uhm.” He cleared his throat. “Hello, again.” He laughed quietly, “I know I ask almost every day, but I really, really truly do like your daughter. Please. All I’m asking for is your blessing to date her-“

His sentence got cut off by a familiar voice. “No.” Was all she said, this time.

He sighed, feeling defeated. It’s been years he’s been asking, and every time it’s been no.

“Ma’am please-“

“I don’t want you near my daughter. You’re not good for her.”

Those words hurt him, a pang in his chest. No matter how many times he’s heard it, it hurt him every time.

He loved you, more than anyone else could. So why was she still saying no? The flame went out and he sighed, defeated.

Fuck it.

To him it seemed like the Gods already didn’t like him, so why not piss them off even more? He doesn’t like them, never has. He doesn’t owe them shit, he thought.

So, he went back to the tables, coming up to yours.

“Hey, y/n, can we talk?”

You nodded instantly, saying goodbye to your friends and walking with him. You both took a little path to the lake.

“What’s up?” You asked him, hands shoved in your pockets as an attempt to hide your nervousness. Your heart raced as he turned his head to look at you, he pulled out a little rose.

“I was just… I’ve been thinking, a lot recently. And I think I like you.” He said the words in almost a whisper, your eyes widened. He handed you the flower.

“One of the Aphrodite girls picked it. Cost me 3 drachmas.” He said with a nervous laugh as you took it.

“Thank you. I uh… I like you too..” you told him the truth. You weren’t too sure what to say.

“Would you… wanna go on a date with me?” He asked you, hopeful now.

You thought for a moment. Your mom. She would be mad.

“I don’t know, Luke. You know how my mom is about…”

He sighed, and nodded. “Yeah. Yeah. Sorry, for even asking.” He cleared his throat and began to walk away. You grabbed his wrist.

“That wasn’t a no.”

He furrowed his eyebrows.

“Just… give me some time to talk and convince her, then we can talk about that date.” You said with a small smile.

He nodded, a small smile making its way onto his own face.

[thesharkwhalewhoohooooo]

Red x fem! Oc

In which the daughter of the Mad Hatter and the daughter of the Queen of Hearts have been twisted friends for a while.

Red ran through the alleyway, all the way up to the castle walls, until she inevitably got trapped there.

Before the guards could fully close in on her, she got pulled up from a pair of arms around her waist.

"Hey princess Rose." Mary smiled at the princess, who smirked back at her as she wrapped an arm around her neck to stabilise herself a bit more.

"My dad's not gonna be happy with you." She warned as they approached the hatter's tower, Red merely rolling her eyes.

"Also, he has a surprise for you! How exhilarating is that!" Mary hoisted her up a bit more, so she wouldn't slip, before Red could respond.

"You what's the surprise?" Mary shrugged, smiling down at her.

"I don't spoil surprises! You'll love it!" She grinned as they finally arrived, she swung the rope she was holding onto a bit, and she let go so they fell through an opened window.

Mary landed with a smooth roll, standing up in the same motion, whilst Red rolled and stuck to the ground, leaning against her friend's legs.

"Hi dad."

"Hey Maddox." The hatter sighed at the princess and his daughter, both looking at him, one with a smile, the other with a mischievous smirk.

"You really ought to stop one day, she'll find out and not be happy! I cannot keep sending my daughter towards an impending doom!" Red rolled her eyes, getting hoisted up by Mary and let herself fall back onto a chair.

"I finished it..." hatter finally spoke up once his daughter had taken off her coat.

"Really?"

"Yes, the time machine." Red shot up and went towards him, trying to snatch it out of his grasp.

He pursed his lips and slipped it into his coat, shaking his head.

"No, going back in time can be harmful to those who remain still, I cannot give it to you until you've grown in time." Red frowned, looking over at Mary, who even though she was devoted to her, wouldn't betray her own father.

"Okay. Well, doesn't matter anyway, because I can't even get out of this rabbit hole."

-

"Her royal majesty, my queen, it appears that there is a letter, from Auradon." Mary spoke up from behind Red, her father rushing towards them with it.

"Majesty!" The queen of hearts waved her hand and the letter started, it kept everyone captivated, the first sight of anything Auradonian in almost two decades, what a momentous occasion.

"I won't go if Mary can't." Red stood her ground, the queen sending Mary a warning glare.

"Princess Red, I must remain here, I have duties in court-."

"As my personal maid, so yeah, you're coming with."

"- and i'd much prefer simply seeing you off, as the invite only is for you, and your mother seems to be delighted by this new opportunity." Red rolled her eyes, looking at her mother with a dead panned stare.

"She's coming with me or I'll just escape that wretched institution."  The queen sighed, waving everyone off.

"Either you go, or she gets her head chopped off."

"But what am I supposed to do without my personal maid, you don't suppose I'll have to get a new one!"

"You don't need a maid there."

"I do! How dare you try revoke my right as a princess."

-

Red won, and Mary got to go with her to Auradon prep, an institution for the good and the even better.

"Mary!" Red whisper yelled as soon as her mother stood up on the stage, Mary quickly moving to stand behind Red.

"The watch." Mary muttered as she passed her princess, who quickly grabbed it and held onto Mary's hand.

"Let's go." Red was about to start it when Cinderella's daughter tried to pull a sword on the queen, and Red rushed in to try and stop her from getting executed, Mary staying behind in an attempt not to get executed too.

When they disappeared, she felt relieved, but deep inside also saddened.

"Where did she go." The queen turned to Mary, who was not sure herself.

"I would not know my queen, I shall search the highest of lows and the lowest of heights in my pursuit of my princess." She kneeled down as she spoke, keeping her head low and eyes trained onto the ground as she waited for the Queen's response.

"Mh. Don't fret it, she'll return soon." She didn't dismiss Mary, of course she didn't, and of course Mary just had to have kneeled into a small shard of stone, her knee starting to bleed from the constant pressure and the shard.

"Cinderella's execution shall be now!"

-

Prince Charming glanced at the girl kneeling a bit behind the queen, and the small puddle of blood around her knee, as he was being restrained.

"Where is my wife! Where is Ella!" The queen laughed at him, gesturing at Mary, who quickly stood up, her knee wobbling a bit as she stood up straight and went to grab the cushion with the glass heels.

"My queen." She kneeled next to her, her bloody and wounded knee on the ground, and held up the red pillow.

"Here.... Is my Ella." Mary looked up slightly with an arched eyebrow.

"Your Ella?! She chose me! Over you and your monsterly-." The queen threw the heels at his face, they broke, and cut his face open.

He silently stared at the broken glass, limp in the soldier's hold.

"It appears that she chose you until the very end."

-

"I cannot believe that I had to leave Mary because of you!" Chloe scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"What? Couldn't leave your maid behind?" Red took a step closer to her, eyes narrowed.

"Don't disrespect her like that, at least I know I can trust her."

"Yeah cause she fears you, not the same." Red nearly launched at her and killed her right there, but Chloe tried to get the watch.

"You don't get to go back if you disrespect her."

"What?! What did she do that you're so freakishly-!" Red cut Chloe off, smirking proudly as she answered.

"She swore her full devotion to me, so, technically, she's mine, which means she'll do anything I say." Chloe took a step back, fearing she'll get stabbed by the gloating princess.

"I really don't care about how low that poor girl stepped, but honestly, isn't that a bit like an exhibitionist?" Red's hair seemed to flair up in anger, baring her teeth as she launched at the girl, pulling at her hair.

"Do not call my girl a whore! You fucking bitch!" Chloe was more shocked by her language than anything else.

"Let! Go! Of! Me!" She tried getting her off, eventually resorting to kicking her off.

She stood with her hands on her knees trying to get her breath back, Red standing perfectly straight and gesturing for her to get up and move along.

"C'mon, let's go inside."

-

"Mom!" Chloe nearly cried out as they saw the heels break into Charming's face, Red rolled her eyes, instead focusing on Mary, who was still kneeling in front of her mother.

There was a small puddle of blood where she previously stood, and there were glimpses of blood where she had now rested her knee.

She clenched her fist, but quickly snapped the looking glass closed when Bridget turned around.

"I don't have one like that... but if it's a banned book, it's in Merlin's office, but that's enchanted...." She pouted, a bit sad she couldn't get what the girls wanted for them.

"I have a date with Athene, so I really have to start getting ready, I hope you'll find it though!" Red nodded slowly, pulling Chloe along as she exited the room.

They bumped into Athene along the way, who was going up to Bridget's room.

"Athene." The girl hummed and looked up from Fred, her mouse familiar, to Red.

"We kept Bridget up a bit, she just started getting ready." Athene let out a small Oh, then smiled.

"That's perfectly fine, I'll go back to Olivia then, she'll probably like having that saddle off a bit longer." Red raised an eyebrow, abandoning Chloe's arm and stopping Athene from leaving.

"Olivia?"

"Oh, she's one of my familiars, she's a water dragon, and such a sweetheart, I was planning on introducing her to Bridget and going to the dragon stalls with her, because she's my nicest dragon, the other can get a bit... snappy, yeah, that's the word." She tilted her head when Red didn't answer, "would you like to meet her? She's beautiful, her scales are a bit darker than Chloe's hair."

Red smirked, quickly nodding before grabbing Chloe's arm again and once again dragging her along after Athene.

The young witch wasn't kidding when she said the dragon was sweet, because she quite literally had no idea what danger even was.

"I told you, she's way too kind, it takes more effort to keep her safe from people than to keep people safe from her." Chloe had finally snapped out of her stupor and was staring in amazement at how the dragon seemed to trap Red with her tail, keeping her there until she could grab her with her front legs-?-.

Chloe snorted out a giggle, Red grumbling about getting saliva on her jacket was way too funny.

"Hey! Poet! Bridget's ready for you!" Ella yelled out of a window somewhere, and Athene nearly dashed away.

"She's sweet... do you think they'll last longer than this?" Chloe turned to Red to ask, who had been set down.

"Mh. They'll last yeah, but she'll die when their daughter is like 10." The shock on the charming princess' face was way too much to comprehend.

"Yeah, my mom really lost it after that."

-

"Red! Princess!" Mary rushed up to her when she finally got back to the present, not wearing her usual dark green, but instead a sage green and off white colour combo.

"Hey... what's with the-?" She trialed off when her mom stood up, turning around, with a whole other dress, and starting to make... bubble hearts?

"Where were you, you are so late Rose." Chloe snorted at the nickname.

"Well i'm here now."

[thedevilrisen]

Boyfriend! Girlfriend!

Nova Crosby -

“Could they take any longer?” Nova muttered under breath, peering around the corner of the plane seat to see what was holding her from exiting the plane.

“It takes as long as it takes Novs.” Sidney chided, taking a long sip from his glass of Chardonnay. Flicking through a magazine as he waited to be told he can de-board the plane. “Sit back in your seat, and wait honey.”

With a huff she flopped back into the padded chair, blowing stray hair that had escaped out of her bun out of her face. She flexed her fingers as she gripped arm rests of the chair, stretching her patience wire thin.

“It’s not like I haven’t seen him or anything, it’s just been 6 months, 18 days, 4 hours and 37 minutes.” Nova retorted, swinging her leg out slightly, kicking the carpet with her foot.

Sid just watched with a smile, before leaving Pittsburgh he had spent some time talking to Ellen Hughes, who conveyed a similar impatience in her youngest son wanting desperately to skip time to see his girlfriend of seven months.

"You facetimed him twice before the flight, and texted him until you had to switch off your phone." Sidney stated, looking over at her pointedly.

"It's not the same as actually seeing him Dad!" Nova protested, looking over at him, "i just miss him, he genuinely cares about me and wants to see me too... I hope so anyway."

"Trust me Novs, he wants to see you. I know it's better in real life." Sid chuckled and grabbed her knee, giving it an affectionate rub.

She settled back in the chair and let out a deep breath, closing her eyes momentarily as she attempted to drive her nerves into the ground. Nodding to herself, she opened her eyes and looked down the isle to where it was clearing out and back over her shoulder to her father. He nodded and they both stood up, Sid grabbed their carry-on luggage from the overhead locker and followed Nova out of the plane and into the terminal.

Making their way through the airport and towards baggage claim, Sid stood and waited for their bags while Nova had her head in her phone, texting Luke to try and find out where he was standing.

"Nova!" a young voice yelled "Over here Novs!"

Sidney watched as his daughter narrowly avoided whiplash as she turned around, he watched her shoulder sag as she breathed in, almost dreamily, gaze clicking on Luke standing about forty-five feet away with a small bouquet of gerberas. The brown-eyed girl wasted no time in dropping her backpack and tearing across the slippery tiled floor toward where Luke stands. The poor boy had barely any time to react and move the flowers before he was nearly crash tackled by a young Crosby, stumbling slightly from the force that Nova came hurtling at him with he wrapped his arms around her tightly, rocking the two of them back and forth.

Placing a gentle kiss in her hair, looking up to see Sidney watching like a hawk he placed another staring him down. Daring him to say something and ruin the moment.

Pulling away, the plastic wrapping around the bunch of flowers which Luke managed to salvage from being crushed, crackled as he held out the assortment to her, a small smile gracing his lips as her expression lit up at the flowers.

"Thank you Lukey!" Nova cooed, hugging them to her chest, "Their so pretty!" Nova leaned up and pecked his cheek, slowly coming back to flat feet as her father approached with Luke's mother in tow.

"How's that kids?" Ellen asked, walking along next to Sidney who was wheeling both his and Nova's bag beside him.

Luke had Nova settled into his side, tucked under his arm. Both teenagers grinning like they had just found gold. Nova, cuddling into Luke a little further spoke up.

"Mhm," She hummed, looking up at him and bonking her head into his chest. "Boyfriend."

Luke chuckled, dropping his head to rest onto hers, affectionately bonking her too. "Girlfriend."

[seeingivy]

cornelia street

satoru gojo x f!reader

**part of my debut concert event

**part of my satoru as taylor swift songs series

content: mentions of drinking, reader has diabetes, mentions of misogyny in the workplace, satoru and reader are lawyers, gojo calls reader bonnie bc they're bonnie and clyde, a teenager who pees on da sidewalk, and a bitchy barista

an: 50+ listens to cornelia street and she's done. a request from the lovely @skzismyhome I hope you love it pookie and thank you for your support always!!!

--

You look down at the contract in front of you, willing down the angry tears settling in your eyes. 

You knew that this day would come. It comes for everyone, for every son and daughter in higher society. The day they arrange your marriage. 

And you never really dreaded it. Or hated it. Utahime was nearly murderous when it was happening to her, Shoko almost eloped and moved to the countryside when it was her turn, and Mei Mei was the only one who actually disappeared off the face of the Earth. 

But you didn’t really care. Since you were young, you knew that this was something that you were being primed for. Why you had to be the best. You just hoped when it happened, it would be everything like your parents. 

They didn’t love each other. But they were partners. By each other’s side. More like friends who just also happened to be married and had kids together. 

But like all things in higher society, you never get what you want. Because the idiot you’re signing the papers with is the most entitled, self-centered egotistical asshat you’ve ever met. 

Satoru Gojo. 

“Last matter of business. I think this decision lands on Y/N, since Satoru made the last one. Where would you like to live?” 

You scribble your answer onto the page and sign the line next to your name at the bottom. Satoru follows suit, sliding the ring box to your side, as you both shuffle in your seats. 

Satoru has no reason to hate you. If anything, he should be praising the fucking ground you walk on for what he did to you. You slide the ring on your own finger and collect the papers, sealing them into the envelope. 

“Where did you pick? For us to live?” 

“Cornelia Street.”

--

You and Satoru butt heads often. You start it. Sometimes he argues back. You’re both pissed off by the end of it. 

“I’ll run the errands, Satoru.”  

He groans as he swings open the fridge, pulling out his leftovers from the night before. 

“It’s literally right next to my office. I could just grab it if you tell me what it is you need.” 

“No, thank you. I can get my things on my own.” 

“Why are you so stubborn all the time? You haven’t even let me do anything since-”

“I can do my shopping on my own, thanks.” 

You would let Satoru do it. You would. Because it is really annoying to run down to the store every time you need something, but you’re not giving in. 

Because that would require you to indulge Satoru in more personal information than you would like to, so you can’t. Because you don’t fraternize with the devil. 

The thing you need from the store isn’t actually from the store, it’s from the pharmacy next to it. You’re out of your long insulin pods, because you’ve been so busy with work. Because your own pancreas is so stupid, it can’t produce it’s own insulin. You have to buy it from the store, in a stupid little patch that painfully pricks into your stomach every time you insert it. 

He blocks the doorway as you try to walk out, blue eyes peering into yours. 

“Why won’t you just let me do this for you?” 

“Because that worked out so well for me last time, Satoru.” 

He groans as he presses his fingers to his nose bridge, nearly rolling his eyes at you. 

“You know. If you’d let me explain that, I’d actually-” 

“There’s nothing to explain. I asked you to give me a shoo in for my dream job. You quite explicitly told them not to hire me.” 

Three summers ago was the first time you were graced with Satoru Gojo’s presence. And hell, you actually tolerate him. Maybe even liked him. You were both doing an internship, at the Zenin’s law firm in Brooklyn. 

You and Satoru were somewhat of a…dream team. Every case you worked on together gave you a rush, like he’d finish your thoughts before you were thinking. Like you picked up where he lacked and vice versa. You were Bonnie and Clyde. Partners in crime. 

So when they gave Satoru the associate position first, you asked him to pick you for the second associate opening. Because the person who gets that opening gets to be his partner. And you had convinced him - that you two would be a dream team, that you would be unstoppable. He agreed, in fact - he promised he would give it to you. 

Which is why you felt blindsided when they picked an outsider, Getou Suguru, as the associate. And when you asked the head of the Zenin’s, Toji, why he didn’t pick you, you were mad. Why you weren’t the associate when you ran to get coffee for all of them all summer, stayed up late on cases, and busted your ass off, he said that Satoru didn’t think you were a good fit. And he has to make sure staff has good personal relations. 

“Why are you so stubborn? You literally won’t even talk to me about-” 

“I don’t want to talk to you! What part of that do you not fucking understand? I don’t like you. I’m never going to like you because you’re an egotistical, sadistic little prick and-

“And what are you? You’re an entitled little know it all. You don’t even listen before jumping to your own fucking conclusions about-” 

“It’s not jumping to conclusions when Toji tells me straight to my face that you didn’t think I was a good fit. You’re fucking dense as fuck if you think I don’t know that.” 

You push past him, marching angrily down Cornelia Street. 

--

You press your face against the glass, watching the mounds of snow out in the street. You and Satoru have been snowed in on Cornelia Street for three days now, the stupid climate change induced storm in the middle of November trapping you for good. 

In theory, you would have loved something like this. A break from work for a few days, nice weather for you to watch movies and cuddle up on the couch. Except, there’s an intruder in your house who has the same ideas as you. 

“Hey.” 

“Shove a fork in your eye, Satoru.” 

“You get more creative as time goes on. I appreciate that in a wife.” 

You roll your eyes as you walk over to the kitchen, where Satoru’s rummaging through the kitchen. 

“Did you eat all the food already?” 

“You know, if you actually did groceries on time, maybe we would actually have food for emergencies like this, Satoru.” 

“First you don’t want me to do groceries and now you do? You’re so unpredictable it’s like-”

“I’m unpredictable? You’ve got to be kidding-” 

“Oh my god. We’re not doing this today. I get it. I stole your dream job. Ruined your life. You hate me. Just, shut up about it already.” 

He’s swirling the spoon through the saucepan as he waits for it, your irritated, agitated retort. And it doesn’t come. 

He looks over to find you all but leaning over the counter, your head pressing into your forearm as you wobble on your feet. He instinctively reaches forward, holding you up in his arms. 

“Hey. What’s wrong? Why are you-” 

You lean forward against his chest, pressing your hands against his biceps as you feel your legs go limp. Right. Day three on Cornelia Street. With no extra insulin pods left. 

“I’m out of-”

You slump forward more this time and Satoru drops the spoon on the floor, securing you against him as he leads you to the couch, laying you down flat on your back. His hands are on your face, firm on your cheeks as his voice starts wavering. 

“What-what do I do? Tell me how to fix this, I-” 

“Candy. Or anything sugar should-” 

You can’t even finish the sentence before he bolts up, rummaging through the drawers before he returns. His touch is so gentle, so featherlike, as he helps you up, his hands shaking as he helps you drink the juice. 

His hand is rubbing circles into your back, his cheek pressed into the top of your head as you both slow your breathing. And when you level out, Satoru’s hands are pressed around your face again, cupping your cheeks again. 

“You okay, Bonnie?” 

Bonnie. Like that summer, when you were Bonnie and Clyde. 

“Yeah.” 

“You’re positive?” 

“Mhm.” 

“Perfect. Are you a fucking dumbass?” 

You lean your face out of his touch, more confused and disoriented than before. You-you just passed out and he’s yelling at you? 

“Satoru. You’re so rude. I just-”

“Yes, Y/N. I’m yelling at you. I’m yelling at you because we literally live together and are married and you didn’t tell me you have fucking diabetes.” 

“Okay. And?” 

“And? You can’t be fucking serious right now-” 

He pushes off the couch, pacing back in forth in front of you as he starts yelling, angrily running his hands through your hair. 

“You’re-you’re this fucking mad at me? It was one job. And you-you would compromise your health over it?” 

“This isn’t compromising my health. I just didn’t know there would be a storm and-” 

“Y/N. Oh my fucking god, get it through your thick head. I’m your emergency contact. If you were fucking dying in a hospital and they ask me what’s wrong with you, I wouldn’t know. And then they would probably kill you because I didn’t know you had diabetes.” 

You lean your head back against the couch, feeling the strain all at once. You’re drained. And you hate it when Satoru’s right. Because he is your emergency contact, because he’s your husband - whether you like it or not. 

After not responding right away, Satoru leans back onto the couch with you, a hand pressed in your hair. He’s brushing through the tresses, his voice soft when he speaks again. 

“God, Bonnie. Just let me take care of you.” 

“That didn’t work out wel-

“Well for you last time. Quit saying the same shit over and over again. That was three years ago. And we’re…married now. I’m..supposed to take care of you now and I’m going to so just let me.” 

You deflate as he keeps running his hands through your hair, the lack of insulin and energy surely imparing your inhibitions. 

“Fine.” 

He turns over to you, a wide smirk pressed against his face. 

“Fine? You, Y/N L/N, agreeing with me?” 

“Don’t get used to it.” 

He laughs, leaning his head against yours as he moves his arm down your back, squeezing your side once before he talks again. 

“Got any other big secrets you’re keeping from me?” 

“I murdered a guy. He’s in our attic.” 

“Ouch. What did he do, Bonnie?” 

“It was an accident. I thought he was you.” 

He presses your face into his hand, rolling his eyes at you. 

--

Satoru is pleasantly surprised to find out that you don’t argue with just him, your unfiltered and unabashed rage is something that you do with everyone. Your latest victim? Your little brother, Yuuta. 

You’ve been screaming at him for a better part of the past hour, because Yuuta’s being a fucking idiot. Yuuta was never into the whole arranged marriage, higher society thing. And you knew that. 

You just never think he’d come to your place, asking you and Satoru for money so he could run away with Maki. 

“This is the wrong move, Yuu. You’re only nineteen.” 

“I have to do this now. I can’t do what you did. I don’t care if you like him now and you’re friends or whatever, I just really…really love her, okay?” 

“You love her? Then stop being a fucking idiot about it. You’re both making a stupid decision that’s just going to hurt you. You can’t just run away from your problems.” 

“Y/N. You’re always think you know what’s best and you control-” 

“Yuuta, you little piece of-” 

Satoru stops you before you walk further, yanking you back by firmly pulling on your wrist. He leans forward, whispering I got this in your ear before yanking Yuuta out of your apartment and down the opposite block of Cornelia Street. 

When they return, they both have the audacity to be smiling, Yuuta holding two cups of Coppola’s Coffee in his hand. He sets one in front of you, awkwardly brushing his hand against his neck. 

“Sorry, Y/N. You’re right.” 

You smile. 

“What was that? I didn’t really hear you.” 

“You were right.” 

“One more time. A little louder, Yuu.” 

He rolls his eyes as he grabs his bag, swinging it over his shoulder. He walks back, pressing a kiss to your cheek and bidding goodbye to Satoru as he drags out the door. You turn to your side, glaring at Satoru. 

“What did you say to him?” 

“Ah, you know. The usual.” 

“The usual?” 

“Just talked him down. Told him if he really likes this Maki girl then he should ask us for help. We are his older siblings and all. That you just get mad because you care about him.”

You roll your eyes as you lie face down on the counter, cheeks burning. You’re his older siblings. Because Satoru’s his brother in law. You feel him tapping on your head, gleefully grinning at you. 

“What?” 

“Guess what time it is.” 

“You know, just because I pass out one time on accident doesn’t mean-” 

He presses his fingers to your lips, rolling his eyes as he places it in your hands. A pack of almonds. 

“Satoru.” 

“Did you know that almonds are the perfect snack? Because they’re high in magnesium, potassium-” 

“And vitamin E. Making the perfect nutrient-rich snack for those with impaired glucose tolerance.” you finish, mimicking his high pitched voice. 

He opens up the packet, pouring them all into your hand. And then he watches you eat every single one. You come up with an insult for each one you eat. 

“You’re a disgrace to humanity, Satoru.” 

“And?” 

“And a little pain in the ass. Like you know when you get a pimple stuck right in between your butt and it hurts to sit down? That’s what you are.” 

“Descriptive. Just one more almond and you’re done, Bonnie. Make the insult good.” 

“I don’t take orders from men. Least of all you.” 

You place the last one in your mouth, chewing and then sticking your tongue out to Satoru, to show you did in fact eat the entire thing. 

“That’s my girl. Not only does she eat all her food but hurls scathing insults at the same time.” 

“Being your biggest hater is my full time job, Satoru.” 

He laughs, pinching your cheek as he starts milling around the kitchen, preparing for dinner. Ever since you and Satoru got snowed in and he found out about everything, you…were both surprisingly tame. Not at Bonnie and Clyde pre-getting backstabbed levels, but he’s not…horrible to be around. And he never really was. 

Because Satoru’s thoughtful. He’s googled all the ways to control blood sugar, reserached different pods for you to try, and always tries to balance the dinner (that you now let him make for you) to make sure that you’re eating all right. 

And he’s funny. He’s convinced you into watching the Bachlorette with him every week. And you’re above corny reality shows but his commentary is just so ridiculous you can’t help but watch with him. 

And he even got Yuuta and Maki to like him now. 

And really, it’s all types of irritating because you like him. You actually like him. He backstabbed you into oblivion but he’s also the sweetest, most compassionate guy you’ve ever talked to and you like him. 

You push off the counter, reaching for the cupboard and yank out the biggest glass of wine you can find. As soon as you finish pouring almost the entire bottle into the glass, Satoru snatches it out of your hand, cheekily smiling at you. 

“Thank you, Bonnie.” 

“I was going to drink that, Satoru.” 

“Diabetics should drink in moderation. Can’t have you passing out on me now.” 

“That was one time. You could share, you know.” 

He rolls his eyes as he hands you the glass, your hands burning from it. How intimate it is. That you and Satoru are sharing a glass, all warm and drowsy from the drink. And when he grabs your hand, leading you onto the little patio just off of your roof, you follow. Blindly. 

You’re both laying against the bricks, the lights of the city reflecting into the sky. There aren’t any stars out, only the tinted white of the fluorescnets against the dark sky. 

“Why’d you pick Cornelia Street, Bonnie?” 

“It’s quiet. And I always walked down it - when I used to go to class and then after when I started walking to work. I’ve always liked all the little people bustling by with Coppola’s on the corner.” 

“Hm.” 

“What?” 

“So do you like that kid who peed on the block last week?” 

“Ew. Gross, Satoru.” 

He laughs, leaning back on the tiles, beckoning for you to move closer to him. He opens up his arm, which you lean into, his arm wrapped around yours. The tiles are kind of digging into your back, but you ignore it because you don’t want to move and risk Satoru moving away from you. 

“Do you like Cornelia Street, Satoru?” 

“Yeah.” 

“I’m moved by the passion, Satoru. You can’t imagine yourself anyplace else, can you?” 

He looks over, blue eyes glimmering under the shy flourescents of the building, his voice firm as he answers. 

“No. I can’t imagine myself anywhere else.” 

And from the look on his eyes, the way your skin is itching from the way he’s looking at you…you know he’s not talking about Cornelia Street. 

“Are you-” 

“Talking about Cornelia Street? I’m not, Bonnie. I’m talking about the girl who loves Cornelia Street.” 

You reach over, timidly pressing your hand to Satoru’s face as you shift his face over, his cheeks warm under your touch. He’s moving forward, eyes fluttered shut and you can feel your heart hammering under your chest. 

And when he presses his lips to yours, soft and plush with a hint of wine on his mouth, you can’t help but feel it all untangling in your chest. Unraveling. The way you feel about him, those stupid blue eyes and that lopsided smile. 

Because all of those summers ago, it wasn’t that you liked working with the Zenin’s. It’s that you liked working with Satoru. And it wasn’t a backstab to not get to work with the Zenin’s, it was that Satoru didn’t want you to work with him. 

He snakes his hand under your shirt, his touch featherlike but blossoming searing light onto your skin. 

“Satoru. This is public indecency.” 

He presses his head into your neck, peppering soft kisses into your neck as he responds. 

“Bonnie and Clyde were criminals, silly girl.”  

--

“Almonds, Bonnie.” 

“Satoru.” 

“Nope. Eat ‘em and we’ll go.” 

You roll your eyes as you tilt the packet back, shoving them all into your mouth. Satoru gives you a gleeful grin and a kiss on the forehead as he shoves you out the door. Satoru walks you to work everyday. And back home on the way back. To protect you from lewd street pee. 

You get coffee from Coppolas every morning, the barista always giving the two of you a shining smile. Whenever the flower vendors pass by, Satoru always buys you the pink ones, which make your heart pound but you always clown him for. 

Satoru insists that you wear your wedding ring everyday. And buys one for himself too, which he forces you to put on him. And he encourages you - to be better. Which is why you’re going to try again. 

“Toru.” 

“Hm, Bonnie?” 

“Can you do me a favor on your way to work?” 

“Sure.” 

“Mail this for me.” 

You hand him your job application, to work with the Zenin’s and Satoru, to fix what happened the first time. Granted, Satoru doesn’t really work with the Zenin’s anymore, but instead a different firm, but they do partner up sometimes. 

In a way, asking Satoru to do this for you is righting a wrong. Because he should put in a good word for you this time, so you can actually get your dream job. Because whatever stopped him the first time isn’t there now - he’s told you hundreds of times that you’re brilliant, the smartest person he’s ever met - so there’s no logical reason for him not to. 

So when you find the application in his bag, six days after the fact while looking for his phone, you’re a little bit confused. 

“Toru.” 

“Hm?” 

“Did you hear back from Toji? About the job?” 

“Ah, yeah. He’s not really into it. I gave it to him but he said there’s no associate openings.” 

Liar. As always, Satoru Gojo is a fucking liar. And it’s stupid. It’s so stupid of you to think otherwise. You can feel the tears welling in your eyes as you shove your things into your backpack and swing it over your shoulder. 

And you almost walk out the door before he catches you. 

“Hey. Where are we going, Bonnie?” 

“I’m leaving. You’re staying here.” 

You watch the smile fall off of his face, the grip on your wrist loosening. 

“Is something wrong, Y/N?” 

“You really hate me that much, don’t you? You couldn’t even hand it in for real this time? You have that little faith in the work that I can do?” 

“This-this isn’t about the faith I have in you. You’re brilliant and I’ve always thought that about you. It’s just that it’s not right-” 

“Not right for me? Because working at one of the best law firms isn’t right for me? I should just slum it out where I’m at now.” 

“Bonnie, I can explain-” 

And you run straight out the door, flat off of Cornelia Street. 

--

Satoru doesn’t hear from you for nine days. And it’s pure agony. Waking up without you next to him. Watching people mill by on Cornelia Street, getting Coppola’s without you. The barista doesn’t even smile at him anymore. 

And when that stupid kid pees on the block again, he can’t even laugh at it. Because Cornelia Street without you is all types of wrong. 

He wakes up every morning, promptly at 7:30. Because if what you said is right, you take Cornelia Street on the way to work when you walk from home. But you never do. He’s never seen you walk past, not even once. 

You’re still going to work. He knows that because Maki told him so. Yuuta isn’t really talking to him anymore, but Maki begrudgingly gives him slivers of information that he lives off of. 

She’s going to work, just a different way. 

Yes, I gave her the almond packets. 

No, she doesn’t want to talk to you. 

But he knows you have to come back. Because your sewing machine and your vinyls and all your things are here. Because some selfish part of him thinks you have to come back because it’s him. Because some small part of you loves him the way the entirety of him has always loved you. 

So much so, that he’s had selfish intentions from the start. To protect you. 

If he was a smart guy, he would have picked you to be his partner when he was working with the Zenin’s straight out. Because you’re a dream team, because no one picks at his mind and makes him work in circles the way you do. 

But when he brought you up to Toji, it eliminated any possibility you had of working here. Because the Zenin’s are disgusting, misogynistic pigs. 

Toji said he would hire you on one condition. That Satoru shares you with him. Because Toji had caught on to the affections Satoru had held for you in earnest but still wanted his fair share of the cut. Because he’s still an old money lawyer, who uses his own power to his advantage. Because your pretty face is the only reason he hired you in the first place. 

He picks Getou the next time he sees Toji. And he never hears from you again. And that’s okay, because you end up working with Utahime at a different firm and he knows that you’re safe from this. And dear god does he miss you, but it is better than the alternative. 

And when your parents bring you together, because you’re both lawyers and that’s a common interest, he’s more than happy to sign the papers. Because it’s his chance to right his wrong. Because he still wants to be Bonnie and Clyde, in all the ways that matter. 

You pass out in his arms and his world stops. Because he’s always wanted to protet you, and he recognizes that some part of that is selfish because you can protect yourself, but god he just wants to take care of you because you mean something to him. 

And when you leaned over and kissed him, Satoru loves you. He loves you and he loves Cornelia Street and he loves everything you love. Because anything you like is anything he likes. You could tell him that you hate the sky and he’d never look at it again. 

But when you hand him that shiny job application, asking for his support, he can’t. Because now more than ever, he can’t let his wife even stand near idiots like Toji. The thought of someone thinking about you like that, let alone doing something like that is enough to send him into a blind rage, that would most definitely get him blacklisted from literally any workplace. 

And dear god does he wish you would have heard him out when you left. Because he would have told you. That you were all types of brilliant, that you keep him on his toes, that you’re the only god damn thing he’s ever wanted. 

That he can’t let you work there because he loves you. Because he wants you to be happy always, to be surrounded by people who respect you for you, who think you’re just as brilliant as you actually are. 

And he’d actually be able to do that if he could fucking find you. He wanders a different street everyday, hoping to catch you walking to work. It’s currently day nine and he has yet to find success. But when he sees them, shiny black loafers across the sidewalk, he runs into incoming traffic just to catch you. 

He gets angry honks and yelling because New Yorkers are always rude, but he doesn’t care. You’re like a ghost. You can get away if he doesn’t walk fast enough. And when he catches your elbow, stopping you from walking, he knows he’s done it. 

“Bonnie.” 

“Satoru. Why are you…panting?” 

“Ran into traffic.” 

“Wish they hit you.” 

He takes you in. And just like Maki said, you’re fine. Well, you look fine. A bit angry, that stupid vein bulging out on your forehead, but you’re okay. 

“Why don’t you walk on Cornelia Street?” 

“What?” 

“You said you picked Cornelia Street because it’s on the way to work. That you like to watch the people on Cornelia Street and Coppola’s on the corner. You haven’t walked there for nine days. Why?” 

He watches you roll your eyes as you shake his hand off, walking past him. But Satoru’s faster, basically pinning you into the wall by putting his arms around you. 

“Give me an answer.” 

“No, Satoru.” 

“Bonnie. You love Cornelia Street. Have since you were a kid. Why aren’t you walking there?” 

You can feel the tears rising up in your eyes, the anger bubbling out of you as you respond. 

“Because of you, asshole. Because Cornelia Street is you. I see that dumbass teenager piss on the street and all I can think about is how you think it’s funny. The guy selling flowers? I think about which ones you would pick out and buy for me. Coppola’s? The girl does’t even smile at me anymore. I don’t walk Cornelia Street because I can’t. Because it’s all you now. Everything I like there reminds me of you.” 

He can feel it. His heart burning. He can still make this right. 

“She’s kind of a bitch, you know? She doesn’t smile at me either.” 

You laugh, your chest heaving from the pain. Because seeing him again makes your chest burn. Ache. Because you miss him and because you love him. And when he opens his arms and shoves you into his chest, his smell in your nose, all you can do is cry, cheeks burning into his skin. 

“Bonnie.” 

“Shut up. I’m still mad at you. You’re a back stabber.” 

“If you let me explain, I would-” 

“Fine. Let’s hear your great explanation.” 

So when you start making your way back, he explains. That he’s selfish. And a back-stabber. And when he tells you what Toji says, he doesn’t miss the way you cringe, the way your face goes blank when he thinks about it. 

About how he knows he should have told you but he hates to see you down. How Bonnie and Clyde was always going to be more than a work thing, but the thing he wants forever. 

And when you reach the front of the door, of your apartment on Cornelia Street, he can’t help but feel a weight in his chest. Because you’re quietly standing, staring at the door. Granted, you are holding his hand and it’s a good sigh, but…you haven’t said anything. 

“Satoru.” 

“Yes?” 

“I really…messed this up, didn’t I?”

“What?” 

And when you turn to his side, he’s floored at the fact that you’re crying. Begging him to stay with you. 

“Satoru. I-I don’t want to lose you. Please don’t walk away I, I don’t-” 

He clamps his hand over your mouth, shaking his head as you as he deflates. 

“God, Bonnie. You have no idea how I feel about you, do you?” 

“Huh?” 

“I love you. I want to walk Cornelia Street with you. I want to buy you flowers and check the mailbox with you. I want Yuuta and Maki to pretend to throw up when they see us kissing and I want to take care of you. If you’ll just let me, I’ll do it right.” 

And when you lean forward, the kiss is messy. Your tears are falling on to his face and he’s way too eager from the way he’s hanging off of your lips, the way he’s literally shaking you in his hold. 

You walk Cornelia Street the next day. And you’re part of the constants of the street. The guy selling flowers, the fresh fruit cart on Saturdays, lewd pee kid when he’s drunk, and two very happy in love lawyers.

--

the satoru as taylor swift songs series masterlist

taglist: @porridgesblog @platrom @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06@bsenpai @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @luna0713hunter @shotenvinsoot@itzmeme

[2cutie]

Can I request: Possessive husband Havik(mk1) x wife fem s/o who was a slave like him; she is sweet and gentle and the only one who can calm Havik whenever he gets angry and also the only one whom Havik will allow her to call him by his real name Dairou she escapes with him from slavery thanks to her vast telepathy and telekinesis and she gave him a daughter please?

cracks knuckles today, havik, i have forced you to have slept with us, the readers. tis not the bed you made, but it's the one i'm forcing you to sleep in. Angsty but sweet ending. Enjoyy! Not sure if it's exactly what you wanted! But I read 'possessive husband' and I grabbed onto it with my grubby hands

It was nothing less than suspicious how you didn't feel the absolute glower he was sending your way. And it wasn't like you couldn't see him - actually no you couldn't, but like Havik would believe that in the state of enrage he was in. His teeth ground at the display before him.

When did you and Reiko get so friendly, anyways?

It's not like you had been in Outworld too long. Give or take a few months, but that didn't explain the sudden connection between you two unlikely candidates, and Reiko didn't seem like he was being innocent.

Havik had brought you along to Outworld because you were tactful; more organized that he was in his constant state of chaos. With Hotaru's control advancing daily, Havik was forced to look anywhere in the realms for allies to revolt. The decision was heavy, but you both had to leave your child in the safety of your home and friends as you went to Outworld.

That alone pricked his skin with paranoia most days; the uncertainty of exactly what was happening, where his child was and what she was doing. Uncertainty grew each day, and Hotaru was not forgiving. Havik was generally an always on-edged persona, ready to crack if the pressure was harsh enough. But now, more than ever.

Which brought you both here, allied to Shao Khan who would promise to free Chaosrealm for your aide first.

But you were supposed to be rallying forces; promoting the cause. So why were you flirting with Reiko?

In actuality, you were not. In the very back of his senseless mind he knew you weren't. But it didn't make him like the display any less. He watched, his breathes leaving him as deep growls opposed to air. You smiled, even laughed. Jealousy was itching under his skin.

You were so kind, so gentle - it was a call for attention in a world full of hostility. You were so vulnerable.

Havik tensed when Reiko put a hand upon your shoulder, lingering longer than he needed to. He rubbed your bicep, the way he leaned down to you when he spoke…

That almost sent him off. He felt his eye dilate in on the war general, his fingers twitching. He just managed to keep his composure. He knew Reiko's nature. He fought beside him in the battles for General Shao. He didn't trust him. And he certainly didn't trust him around you.

You laughed, again. So he was funny now?

Havik was practically seething. His teeth gritted harder, and his breaths shuddered. He kept his anger at bay by envisioning tearing Reiko's wrist clean off his body for touching you. But it only radiated that desire more. He was so tempted to just pull you away, then and there, and show everyone just who you belonged to.

You bore his child, not Reiko's. And you could do it again.

...He needed to calm down.

Havik blinked.

Then something happened.

Reiko went too far.

His hands were digging into your hips. He towered over you with a seductive smirk and he was backing you up to the nearest wall. It wasn't a friendly conversation anymore; it was well past flirting. Havik's plasma burned and he shot off the wall he leaned against.

Reiko leaned in, and when you turned away, he only pushed into your neck.

Your telepathy crossed Havik's mind in a panic: A plea for help.

He moved as soon as he had your permission to. Without a thought of how to do so; he would figure it out when he got there. Though he had a few ideas. He knew you wouldn't like them.

He shoved his way between you and Reiko, shouldering him with brute strength backwards. Reiko stumbled back at the surprise intrusion, and he clashed with a few people before righting his stance.

Reiko bore his teeth in warning, scowling. Upon seeing Havik, though, it shifted to a shit-eating grin. "Did I piss off the guard dog?" He moved himself closer to Havik, snearing up to him. His imposing height did little to impose Shao's second in command. "Maybe you should stay a little closer to your bitch."

A subhuman crack was heard as soon as the words fell from Reiko's lips. Blood soon came after. Havik raised his arm again, to strike -

"Dairou!" That made him pause. His eyes immediately snapped over to you, trying to keep himself from attacking. "Don't," you pleaded him. "It's not worth it."

Despite your words, the fact you wanted him to calm down wanted to make him blow his feud more. His breath was bestial and he closed his eyes, trying to force words out. "He called you a 'bitch'." His voice was almost a whisper, a thin conceal of rage.

You went to respond.

Reiko cut you off with a bark of laughter. "Dairou?" His laugh was insulting, even with blood coursing down his nose, staining his teeth. Havik's head rounded back to him. "Is that your true name? How befitting of such a weak warlord. You couldn't even save the land you were born on." He sneered again, tilting his head back in disgust before he gazed to you. "You have to impose on ours to stand a chance. She deserve a real warrior. One who served in actual wars. And won."

Havik's entire body boiled with each passing word. He had used his true name, an insult as is. Not even the brutal ache of the time he was subjected to as a prisoner did he ever feel so much anger.

He didn't even process when he lunged at Reiko. Barely felt his hands gripping around his throat, and the scratches and wounds he received in return. He only could hear himself growling, then the brutal sound of Reiko's body slamming into the floor.

He would only stop when he had Reiko's heart under his boot.

-- Well, the tournament's after banquet ended sooner than was expected. The incident ended involving both the Umgadi and Edenian guards to separate the two men.

Fortunately Sindel was still considerate to allow you both a room to stay within even after such a display.

Havik was still seething, unsatisfied that Reiko's pulse was still ongoing and did not end by his hand. His shoulders still heaved with annoyance and vexation. He paced the room as if he was a caged animal. He could feel the blood cursing through his every vein and how it scorched ablaze. There was the urge to explode, one that could not be satisfied. Reiko's insults still cut deep, the memory playing rampant in his mind. He wouldn't let it go.

He took a sharp inhale and looked over to you. You, who now had to deal with his wrath and fury. He didn't want to take his anger out on you, but there was no other outlet. He managed to turn away with another growl, looking at you through the corner of his eye. He couldn't make eye contact, knowing his anger would slip out. He was too strung out to speak, simply grunting in frustration. He continued pacing, his footfall heavy and loud. A beast in a cell.

"Dairou-"

That did it. That was the overfill to his uncapped emotions.

“Shut up!" Havik comamanded, stopping sharply. He didn't turn back to you. "Just shut up! That name is a curse, and I don’t want to hear it coming out of your mouth again!” You opened your mouth, but he continued as he finally turned to you. His eyes were narrowed and you knew he would be scowling if he could. “You could have stopped that damn conversation! You should have stopped him! Instead you told him my name."

He wanted to just shout his anger away, even if it meant yelling at you. The fact that you just stood there quietly while he screamed made him even more agitated.

You could tell his anxieties were beginning to rise to the surface level. His body was beginning to shake.

He would come undone if he wasn't so keen to keep hidden. His fears of Chaosrealm, the future of you, and his daughter- he feared he would lose it all, and was already starting to. He was hiding behind his wall of defensive mechanisms, itching for a fight to keep the fire burning. To protect it all from spilling.

But you saw it. You always did.

"Havik.." You spoke inside his mind instead; he would not listen to you any other way.

His stance dropped instantly, his head dropping. His eyebrows furrowed and his voice sounded almost broken. "Get out of my head.." You always seemed to know his weakness; how to parry him from his own downfall.

His body felt heavy, like it lost every ounce of energy it had fought to keep. His shoulders sagged and he breathed a sigh of frustration. Without his anger, he felt empty; he had lost the thing he was keen to focus on. His voice was tired, defeated.

"Please do something." He spoke so softly, the strength inside of him perished. He who had been a raging beast a moment ago was defeated by the only emotion he had. "Hit me. Punch me. Yell back. Something."

How desperate he was to keep hiding. Havik kept his eyes closed, as if expecting your lashing. But it never came.

Only your gentle hands came to run over his chest, stopping at his harness. He cracked his eyes open in time to watch you unbuckle it, and let it and his armor fall off his body.

The remainder of his chest was exposed, more scars evident in the lighting.

He was confused, and yet you stayed silent. He didn't like it.

He felt exposed. You had removed a layer of protection that hid away memories. He felt.. Vulnerable.

When his dark eyes snapped to yours, he was only met with a gentle gaze. Your hands roamed along his arms again, picking them up and turning them over to expose the fresh wound Reiko had left on him he was ignoring. You rubbed the unharmed skin gently, soothingly. "Are you keeping these?"

It seemed he was, considering he hadn't healed them himself yet.

Havik looked to the wounds on his arms as well, watching as the blood gushed from it when he tensed the muscle. He attitude was still grim and the pain of them were a welcome feeling as they were a reminder to the pain and anger he felt inside. He nodded, solemn.

You understood. You pushed gently on his shoulders to get him to sit, but he wouldn't. His nerves were still on the fritz. You allowed him to stand.

He watched you under piercing eyes as you went and got a medical kit, opening it on a nearby table. You began sourcing through it.

You were going to patch him.

There was no need. You both knew this. It felt unnecessary, wasteful on him. Pointless. It made him bristle in a bit of discomfort. "There is no need," he tried to argue, retaining his tough front. "I want them to be a reminder of what he did. I want the pain to always be there, to always be present and to never go away so I can remember.” The pain was something he embraced. Another chapter to his book of rage. The anguish served as a reminder that any insult or injustice that would happen to him would not be without retaliation.

"I know," you responded. Simple; vague. It made his fingers clench. How did you always know? "I'm just going to clean and wrap them. I'm not letting you get infected."

When you came back over, he awkwardly held his arms out to you. Neither of you cared about that blood that stained the carpet below. While he didn't really want it, he knew it was your way of taking care of him. How you were gentle with him.

That soothed him as much as it made him bristle. He was still not used to such generosity and kindness. Even after so many years with you, he still didn't know how to react with his rough edges in fear he would harm you.

Havik always hated when people were tender to him because of the unfamiliarity. He hated when people would care for him, like he was a child. But the fact it was you, and you were so gentle, made him long for it.

He finally spoke. He had to know. "Why do you care so much?"

Your eyes flickered to his. You saw his uneasiness, and his hidden display of longing. You focused back on his wounds. "Because I love you, Havik. I married you. You don't have to put on a front around me." You held a damp rag over his wound. pressing to stop the bleeding. There was brief moment of silence before you continued, wearing a half of a smirk. "You're almost as stubborn as our child.. Almost."

Havik rolled his eyes at the mention of his stubbornness. He continued to look away, as if embarrassed. He took a deep breath, suppressed his desire to fight. When he met your eyes back, his gaze was tender. "I.. suppose I may be as hard-headed as her."

"You suppose? You are." You chuckled. "But I suppose I did fall in love with it, afterall. I can't say too much about it without sounding a hypocrite." You brought his knuckles to your lips and kissed them. You let your lips linger.

He finally allowed himself to relax when you kissed him. You had finally melted him. Melted away his mask of anger.

"I know you're just worried. About everything. I am too." You got out the gauze and began to wrap it around him, ever gentle. "Our home will be fine. Our daughter will be just fine. We will win this war." As you finished, you put your hand atop his and brought it to your chest. "We will be just fine. Hotaru will not win. I promise you that, Havik."

His heart began to pulse quickly again, but this time from wamrth. He could feel your heartbeat as well. You were being a rock; something to solidify him against. An anchor. And you were the only person he would allow himself to be weak in front of.

"No," he said after a moment's breath.

"No?" You repeated, confused.

He let out a slow breath, staring down to you. He gave a small nod. "My name. Say my name."

You stared back. A pure smile crept atop your lips. Your eyes melted into that of pure adoration. "Dairou," you said, and it felt almost as if it were an embrace. One that held promise, a security; for your words, your faithfulness. That you were his, and he - as himself, as Dairou - was yours.

[mangoisms]

circle k (back to you)

summary: in which you're just the graveyard shift employee at circle k bombarded by vigilantes.

━ chapter five: i am found on the ground | read chapter four

━ pairing: tim drake x f!reader

━ word count: 4.5k

━ warnings: none

━ masterlist

━ a/n: if you'd like to see my notes (and my thoughts behind a certain inclusion of a character in this chapter), you can find them here <3 (also i'm on fire is playing in the last scene the formatting of the lyrics just killed me so i had to get rid of it thank you all)

“You just can’t beat it.”

“It was okay.”

You turn sharply to look at Tim, who shrugs, a small smile playing on his lips. 

In the kitchen, Steph snorts. “Here we go.”

You ignore her. “Okay? Inception was okay—”

“Uncalled for—”

“But true. This?” You gesture to his flatscreen TV, where the end credits for Interstellar are playing; you’re a little bit red-eyed from the end scenes with Cooper and Murph but no less passionate. “This is more than okay. It’s—”

“Not technically scientifically accurate.”

You grab a pillow and gently whack him with it. He tries to hide a growing smile. You don’t understand what exactly he’s smiling at but you don’t care in this moment.

“It’s not about scientific accuracy, duck boy, it’s about love.”

“Yeah!” Steph yells from the kitchen. “Go love! Woo!”

You gesture in her direction. “He literally said it in the movie, Tim. How can you miss it? And Brand, too!”

“It wasn’t enough to save who she loved, though,” he points out—ever the devil’s advoactate, honestly…

“But it was there and she knew that, too, and she was okay with it. And it was enough for Cooper and Murph, too. I mean, literally to the point that she was able to save humanity. Right? Brand said it—love is the one thing we are capable of perceiving that transcends dimensions of time and space.”

Tim looks… well, far from upset or annoyed. He seems amused, almost… almost fond, the way he looks at you, but it’s too much for you to handle, so you look away, pouting a little.

“And also, okay, I know entering the black hole wasn’t ‘scientifically accurate’ but that’s the point, that some higher being switched them out so he didn’t die. You do have to admit, however, that the depiction of the black hole, which I’ll give Nolan props for, was great.”

“Okay, true,” he concedes. “The score was pretty good, too.”

“It was excellent.”

Steph steps out from the kitchen, looking at her phone. “Give me a sec, you guys, my mom’s calling me.”

You both give her an affirmative and she steps out the front door. You and Tim quickly resume your discussion.

“Inception’s score was good, too,” he points out. 

“Bah. They both had Zimmer. Of course it’s going to be good. But Interstellar has the benefit of being enhanced by it because it’s already a good movie. I mean, it surprises even me that Nolan could manage to pull off something like this.”

“He has the range,” Tim protests. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, you Nolan stan. I’m still a bit hung-up on you saying it’s just ‘okay.’ I mean, sure, it could just be me projecting my own grief about my dead parents onto the story about a dad crossing space and time to get back to his daughter but still!”

That’s the understatement of the century. The scenes between Cooper and an old Murph never fail to make you tear up. Any of the scenes between them, really. 

The prolonged silence from Tim tips you off and it’s only when you look at him do you realize your mistake.

His eyes are wide as he looks at you, surprised, with something else. 

“Oh, it’s fine—”

“Your parents are—”

You both stop. 

You clear your throat, waving a hand. “It’s fine. I… I mean, sorry if it made you uncomfortable, I joke about it sometimes.”

“No,” he says. “It’s okay. It just surprised me. I guess… I don’t want to—I mean—I’m, uh, sorry?”

You shift on the couch, turning more toward him. “It’s okay. It was… well, not that long ago, but—”

You stop, because your instinctive response is ‘I’m over it’ but that’s not totally true, is it? You don’t think you’ll ever be over it. One part of you still feels horribly robbed of them, and some days, their deaths feel so monumental you can barely get through the day, while others, you can function normally for the most part. 

“No, I understand,” he says softly. “My parents, too. My mom when I was younger but my dad died when I was sixteen. It’s… not really something you get over, I think. No matter how much time passes.”

A quiet moment between you. It’s not like he’s tried to make you feel ostracized—if anything he’s gone out of his way to make you feel welcomed here, to make sure he and Steph don’t get too caught up on their own and they include you—but… This is a common thread between you and you know he knows and you know he knows you know. 

“Yeah… Yeah, exactly.” You pause, glancing at the TV, where the credits are rolling now. “It happened when I was fifteen. The, um, earthquake.”

“I’m sorry,” he says again and you know he means it. 

“I’m sorry about yours, too.”

Tim nods, the look on his face still soft, still gentle, then he glances back at the TV. 

“I was kidding, you know,” he says next. “It, uh, really was good. Better than I thought it would be. Scientific inaccuracy aside…”

“It’s good,” you press, ignoring the last comment. “And I don’t think it was trying to fool anyone into scientific accuracy.”

“Also true. I just…”

“Wasn’t expecting it to hit that hard?” you guess, smiling. “Yeah, I get it. Cried like a baby when I first saw it. You’re stronger than me for getting through it dry-eyed.”

“Oh, I’m just waiting for later,” he says. “Saving my sorrows for my pillow. That kind of thing.”

You laugh loudly. He smiles. 

“It does unearth all the dead parent trauma, though,” he says. 

“Oh, tell me about it. Cooper wanting to try to go back home after they find out Dr. Brand never intended to help those on earth…”

“And then having to sacrifice himself to give Brand a chance,” he finishes, shaking his head. “Only for it to turn out well in the end. If only real life was like that.”

A shade too dark for right now but you can’t say you disagree. 

The front door opens. Steph slips back inside, raising an eyebrow at you two. Though she hardly means what you think she means, you find yourself inching away from Tim, turning back forward slightly. You’d hate to give her the wrong impression.

And of course, that is not at all what she is thinking about.

“Why do you two look like someone just died?”

“Well, we were just talking about our dead parents, so,” Tim responds without missing a beat.

You burst out laughing. Steph groans. 

“I was wrong. You two shouldn’t be friends.”

“It’s too late for that, I think,” Tim says, grinning. 

You can’t help but grin, too.

She groans again.

Catwoman is your next vigilante visitor.

All skin-tight latex and a coquettish attitude that makes your face hot.

Luckily, she doesn’t appear to mind. She even pays for her stuff. 

(“I was told,” she purrs. “And I don’t much like being told what to do but… you’re cute enough to convince me to go along with it.”

You don’t think the noise you made was human but it amused her enough.)

Alongside that, you have the others who regularly drop by. Your vigilantes, but then, as you pick up a few weekend afternoon shifts (much to Steph’s disapproval), some normal faces, too.

Barbara, a red-haired woman with sharp green eyes who has a stately and intimidating aura to her but is always pleasant when you two chat. Sometimes she has another woman with her, a pretty blond Barbara calls D. Then, that one man, the stocky blonde with the tortoise-shell glasses and a quiet but kind disposition, who eventually introduces himself as Jean-Paul. 

You spot him during one of your weekend shifts, waiting his turn as you finish ringing up a harried-looking lady. Another man joins him, a little bit younger, you think, with dark hair and an odd white streak at the front; they’re both dressed in scrubs. 

“It’s been a while, Jason.”

“You know how it is, JP. Work doesn’t stop. How’s Leslie?”

“Doing everything at once and somehow managing to pull it off. I’m sure she’d like to see you, if you could find the time.”

“Sure. I’ve got a couple days off from the hospital. I could drop in. Lend a hand.”

A soft chuckle. “If she doesn’t turn you around and tell you to go rest.”

“I’ll rest when I’m dead.”

He coughs. The other man snickers.

Just as the lady leaves, Jean-Paul says, “Let me pay.”

“I won’t say no.”

They both step up to the counter. Jean-Paul gives you a small smile in greeting and seems to decide to forgo your usual small talk—probably because of his new company, which you’re a bit grateful for. The other man—Jason?—nods, eyeing you curiously. Why, you have no idea. But that’s the only thing odd about it. You ring up the coffees without issue and soon, they’re stepping out, Jean-Paul giving you another small smile in goodbye. You return it. 

Having regulars like that reminds you of the ones you had in Keystone City. Kind Mr. Garrick, who stopped by about once a month for lottery tickets, his wife typically in tow; they were always kind to you, always a little bit concerned over your wellbeing, whether you were getting enough sleep or eating well. Painfully reminiscent of grandparents you never had. 

A little more frequently, there was Linda Park-West, a face you easily recognized from WKEY-TV for the Channel 4 News. She didn’t miss much, always so perceptive, but kind to you, sometimes testing your PR skills as a reporter. She usually stopped by for coffee before work but on occasion, she brought along her kids, Jai and Iris, to let them pick out something for themselves, too. Quite literal balls of energy, they were a handful but always good-intentioned. 

You miss them all a lot. More than you thought you would. The Flash, too. Especially these days. What you’d give to talk to him about all this stuff…

But you’ve managed on your own since your parents died. You can keep doing it. 

The following week, Tuesday night, you get another new vigilante visitor.

This one?

Robin. 

He is, admittedly, a figure you are considerably more scared of. It’s a bit… silly on your part, too, because he is a kid, you think, a teen at least, but, well, teens can be scary. This one certainly is. If only because of his close proximity to the one who scares the most. The one who you are happy not to have visited you thus far and Robin’s appearance… well, you don’t entirely know if it’s a good thing. 

But it might be foolish to assume that Batman doesn’t know this is happening. 

But then thinking of him knowing you exist makes you horribly anxious, so, you shelve the thought for now and try to focus on the situation.

Which is…

The three dogs in tow collapse in front of the door, panting, tongues lolled out, appearing to enjoy the air-conditioned bliss of the inside of the store. Robin stares at you, his face a blank mask. 

“Water?”

“At the back. Far left.”

He nods and turns.

You wait there, uncertain, glancing at the dogs. They look worse for wear, fur dirty and matted, old scars healed over; the sight tugs at your heart, so you step around from the counter, heading to the coffee machine. The store doesn’t carry bowls but the extra-large soda cups are wide enough to work for now. 

Robin appears near you, several big bottles of water held in hand. He doesn’t say anything, just looks at you and the cups.

“Don’t have any bowls,” you admit. “So, I thought this might work.”

He wrinkles his nose. “Styrofoam. Wasteful. But it’ll do.”

“Yeah, Circle K isn’t breaking barriers in terms of eco-friendliness.”

He says nothing to that, just turns and heads for the dogs. You follow him, not that turned off. You’ve heard rumors about this particular Robin. He does a good job but can be… rough around the edges. Like Bat, like Robin, you guess.

Glancing at the cups, you get an idea, stopping to duck around the counter and grab a pair of scissors. You cup off the top half of each of them, Robin taking them as you go, until all three cups are cut, allowing for the dogs to have better reach. 

You join him with the last one, filling it with cold water. Most of the dogs are so heat tired, they only lift their heads to drink, seemingly unable to stand.

You and Robin stay kneeled in front of them, filling the cups when necessary. You gently stroke the head of one nearest to you, smiling as his tail thumps against the tiles. 

Robin says nothing else and neither do you. That’s how his time there goes, spent in silence, petting the dogs, letting them cool down and rest. 

Eventually, he starts to leave, and you can’t help but ask, “What’s going to happen to them?”

He regards you for a moment and you get the unnerving feeling of being picked apart and analyzed. Still, you hold steady. It’s good practice, you try to tell yourself. One day, you’ll be faced with bloodhounds for journalists and you have to keep it together. Let yourself practice with Robin because if you can pull it off with him, you can do it with anyone. 

“The shelters are closed for the night,” he eventually responds. “I will take them somewhere safe, off the streets. Then in the morning, they’ll go there.”

“That’s good. Thanks for doing that. It’s kind of you.”

He pauses, looking back at the dogs, who are rejuvenated by this point, stretching and standing up, tails wagging as they look at you two. 

“It’s the right thing to do,” he says at last. “And… thank you, for your help.”

You glance away, picking up the cups. “Sure. No problem.”

A nod and Robin is soon corralling the dogs out of the store, murmuring more gently to them than you would expect, but from this experience, you suspect he has some kind of soft spot for animals. It’s endearing, in a way. 

You hope you made a good impression on him, too. 

(And if your good impression keeps Batman out a little longer, well, that’s just a lucky coincidence.)

The start of July creeps on you. 

There is still achingly little contact between you and Tim. By this point, you haven’t seen him in person for more than a month.

You miss him, in the same way you miss a limb. Scrolling through your social media, whenever you find something funny or that he would like, your knee-jerk reaction is to send it to him. But your conversations on those respective platforms are made up of messages from you and none from him, so you have to stop yourself, because it wouldn’t be worth it. He wouldn’t see it. 

Steph tries to preoccupy your time, though her behavior regarding Tim grows increasingly skittish, to the point where you almost think she might know.

She might know that you’re in love with him, him, her ex-boyfriend and first love. The thought brings on the usual amount of soul-crushing guilt and disgust with yourself. How can you do that to her? She’s your best friend. You love her to the ends of the universe and back and… How can you do that to her?

But… something else about it all niggles at you, too. She switches between reassuring you he’ll come around, and dismissing him the other times, saying you ‘don’t need him to have a good time.’ It makes you think they may be having their own issues, too.

The thought is sobering. 

You’ve always thought of Steph and Tim as—as insane as it sounds—a pair of bonded kittens. Not exactly getting along all the time but…

You couldn’t separate them. You shouldn’t separate them. 

And it feels so wrong for it to be just you two, sometimes. Like you’re missing another piece of the puzzle and it’s noticeable. This empty space between you two that he usually filled. Your group chat, at his insistence, is called the three musketeers. Well, you’re missing your third. Desperately.

“We can rebrand,” Steph says to you one day, the two of you at the mall’s food court. Tim said he was busy. Again.

“No,” you sigh. “That’s not… no. Anyway, Big Belly?”

“I—oh, you have got to be kidding me.” She sounds annoyed, voice sharp.

“What?” you ask, your eyes still on the menu in front of you. 

She grabs your arm. “I think we should eat somewhere else.”

You frown at her. “But you said you wanted to get—”

“We can get Big Belly somewhere else. Maybe a little more quiet, you know, it’s kinda crazy in here,” she laughs, though it sounds strained as she tugs you over to the exit. 

“Crazy? It’s not that busy—Stephanie!” You yelp as she drags you forward before you can take a look around. “What is going on—”

“It’s just—I think I see Jordanna—”

“Where—”

“Let’s not look! Don’t want her to see you or me, you know how she is, so, let’s get out of here…”

“Well, I—okay—you don’t have to—”

She tugs you all the way through the exit, out into the burning mid-afternoon heat. Humidity swallows you whole, turning your skin tacky, sun bearing down on you full-force. Outside, it smells sharply of gasoline and hot blacktop.

“Honestly, Steph,” you say, shaking your head. “You didn’t need to drag me out like that.”

She gives you an apologetic smile. “Sorry. I just… didn’t want to deal with Jordanna. She’s been really annoying me recently.”

“Has she?” You can’t imagine why Jordanna would even be talking to her since it’s the summer, but to be fair, there isn’t much Jordanna wouldn’t do in the name of annoying her. 

“Yup. Just… acting way out of line. So, let’s go somewhere else.”

“Alright, that’s fine. Let’s get out of the heat before you have to scrape me off the pavement.”

“Food’s on me,” she promises, looping her fingers through the belt loops of your jeans, tugging you gently; too hot to hold hands or twine your arms together like usual. 

Though the whole thing bothers you a little bit, you are too used to Steph and Tim’s sometimes strange ways. Leaving abruptly, missing scheduled hangouts, a penchant for tardiness. The occasional bruise or cut that they both wave away. The exhaustion that wears them down sometimes.

It’s odd.

But stranger things happen in Gotham, so, you heed their wishes for that stuff to be ignored. 

Just like you let this one go, too. 

Really. The things you do for them.

Oddities aside, as Tim remains virtually radio silent, you miss him more. Think about him more. 

Dream about him more.

“Steph’s going to be late,” is what Tim says as soon as he steps inside your dorm. 

You snort. “Of course she is. You’re both terrible at being punctual.”

“I… am less bad at it than she is.”

“Right,” you say, smirking, pointing to your clock. “You’re only twenty minutes late, compared to what her forty minutes to an hour will be.”

Tim grimaces as he shuffles off his shoes by the door, then steps in further. “She said she was showering.”

“So, we have even more time. That’s fine. I wanted to paint my nails.”

In the bathroom you share with your ‘roommate,’ the shower turns on. It’s really just the bathroom you two share. Your small dorm is entirely private. The perks of being a junior. 

You go over to your dresser, where your collection of makeup and nail polish is. Above it, your window looks out to the grassy quad, the sky clear of clouds, unusually blue today without the typical smog; the sun shines in, dust motes dancing in the rays.

Tim comes over, too, but he goes for your phone instead, which is connected to your Bluetooth speaker, music playing lowly; he got that for you this past Christmas. 

“Gonna play your old people music?”

“Bruce Springsteen is a treasure to this country and, to quote my dad, one of the few good things to ever come out of the state of New Jersey.”

You laugh. The song changes. The upbeat notes of Hungry Heart start. You’ve heard this one more than a couple times since meeting him. It’s not so bad. 

You fiddle with the bottles of nail polishes. Tim sets your phone down and leans over, dropping his chin to your shoulder as he watches you, humming quietly under his breath. 

The contact makes your heart skip a beat, tendrils of his cologne wrapping around you, the heat of his body palpable through your thin t-shirt. It’s a contradicting sensation, with the AC working hard to beat the May heat that’s settled in. Maybe too hard, as your fingers are a little bit cold. You warm up quickly with Tim so close to you, your heart thudding in your ears. You desperately hope he can’t feel the heat that expands in your face.

That’s a more recent development. One you hate looking too closely at, for fear of what it means.

(You do know what it means. You’re just still in denial. Because admitting it means you have feelings for your best friend’s ex-boyfriend. For your best friend.)

You keep fiddling, not sure which color to pick. Tim huffs softly, reaching past you, picking out a bottle of wine red nail polish.

“Fine. But you have to help,” you say, taking it from him, then grabbing another bottle for the top coat. 

“Don’t I always?”

You just nudge him back, stepping away from the dresser and taking a seat on the floor. The floor is hard, polished concrete; not pleasant to sit on or walk on, so you’ve invested in several cushioned rugs to cover as much as you can. 

Tim grabs a Zesti from your mini fridge, then joins you as you set to painting the nails of your left hand. This one is easier since you’re using your dominant hand and you manage to paint your nails without catching any of the skin around them. 

The shower in your bathroom hums underneath the sound of the song as you finish your left hand. The first coat, anyway. Tim passes his Zesti to you, wipes a hand on his jeans to get rid of the condensation, then takes the bottle of nail polish. 

You sip the soda, extending your right hand to him. He carefully balances the bottle on the rug and sets to painting your nails. 

Like with most things he does, Tim dedicates himself to his task wholeheartedly, cornflower blue eyes trained on your hand, tongue poking out in concentration. The sight makes your heart skip a beat. Warmth unspools in your chest like cotton candy.

Sunlight pours in from the window above the dresser, bathing him in warm, golden rays; it makes the shade of his dark hair warmer, the blue of his t-shirt, too, softening the pale of his skin. 

“So… how was that date?”

The question jars you. You avert your eyes. 

Ah. The date you agreed to go on with a guy in your communications class in an attempt to… you don’t know. Distract yourself from Tim? Try to find someone else to latch onto? All… not so great reasons, you know, but needs must. 

Not like it worked out, anyway…

“Terrible.”

He stiffens, pausing in his work to look at you, eyes narrowing, and you send him a small smile, privately pleased—though you shouldn’t be—at seeing him get all protective. You can take care of yourself and he knows that, too, but… one can appreciate having a cute guy be like that for you. Within reason, anyway. 

“He didn’t do anything, Timmy, relax. He was just… well, seemed nice initially. But when we got to the restaurant, he was horrible to the waitress. I already wasn’t feeling it, but after that, no way. So.”

He glances away, thumb rubbing idly at the back of your hand from where he cradles it in his. “Sorry to hear that.”

“It’s okay. It wasn’t a good idea.”

“To go with him or—” he clears his throat, turning back to his work “—dating in general?”

“I don’t know. He just wasn’t what I was looking for.”

“What are you looking for?”

You, you want to say, but don’t. 

Frightening to realize, really, that the answer to that question is immediate, as sure as the day. 

It’s Tim. 

Always Tim. 

But you’ve never felt this way for someone. This strongly, like you want so much, you could never be satisfied. 

“I don’t know,” you say quietly, watching the brush of the handle glide over your nail in easy, practiced sweeps. “Does anyone?”

“I guess not,” he concedes softly. “But still. I hope you can find it.”

The song changes. Something calmer, with the strum of the guitar. Familiar croons of I'm On Fire.

I have found it, you want to say. It’s you. It’s this. Right here, right now.

But just because you found it doesn’t mean it’s yours.

“Do you?” you find yourself asking because apparently you’re feeling extra masochistic today. “Know what you’re looking for, I mean.”

Steph sometimes teases him. Tries to point out nice boys and girls he might like. You used to play along. You don’t so much these days. 

He would always wave it off, anyway. Just shake his head and change the subject. He has dated before. Obviously. Someone as gorgeous as him… all of Gotham wants a piece of him. You do, too. Well. You want all of him. Which is another thing you are just now realizing. But anyway, since you’ve known him, he hasn’t dated anyone. He used to date a boy—Bernard? Steph said he was a character—from one of his old high schools but that didn’t work out. And now he still has the occasional date, but it never pans out. He says they just aren’t compatible. 

Makes you curious.

You’d never match up to it, you know, but you want to know, anyway. 

Tim looks up, his eyes slowly scanning your face. This close, with the sunlight, you can see the shadows his lashes cast on his cheeks, the flecks of silver in his eyes, like mercury, the odd scars, too, that he excuses behind clumsiness as a child. Everything inside you squeezes.

“I guess you can say that,” he eventually says, voice soft. 

The words hurt, but distantly, like it’s all far away from you. You’re too caught up here, now, close enough to smell his cologne. 

Tension thickens the air between you. It’s unfamiliar, unknown, but not unwelcome with how your stomach swoops like you missed a step, heart pounding in your ears. 

Tim looks… contemplative. Your eyes are immediately drawn to the movement of him biting his lip, teeth sinking into plush pink, and the urge to soothe away the indents with your own lips is fearsome, monumental, like a hurricane. 

His fingers tighten on your hand. You want to get swept away in this moment, no matter the consequences. It’s a dangerous kind of feeling you aren’t used to. 

But the shower abruptly shuts off in the bathroom, plunging the room back into silence with the strum of the guitar and the croon of the song as it ends. The moment is broken. 

Tim clears his throat and returns to his work. 

Neither of you say anything. 

Too much for you to want. 

Too much you cannot have.

Too complicated.

reblogs are appreciated!

taglist: @peachesona @knoxx-seresinbradshaw @kikis-writing-service @sweetistic @soundsfunbutno @ginevraxrogers @fridaenpina @skcj24 @bath1lda @omfg-its-tay @laughydaphne @fhrjrirj @iamthesimpmother @alittlelateforstars @thaliadoesthings @scarlett13 @zelabee @coffee-love-alltheabove @benstormy @sad-girl09 @lockofspades @thereallchristine

[ask to be tagged! either here or my inbox! ^_^]

[lovecanyon]

EPL!HARRY X READER

“What do you fucking mean that wasn’t a goal-“

“It means you didn’t make the goal mate.” Harry chuckles, passing Leo who was fuming.

Almost like a reaction, the player tries to push Harry down but he’s quick to stand his ground. Turning around, the Styles man swiftly shoves Leo down onto the grass and succeeds.

The crowd immediately grows loud when they see both players from opposite teams begin to fight.

Y/N who was in the crowd with Sarah and Amelia stands up to get a better view of her husband. After trying and trying to find Harry in the mix, the Styles woman gets fed up and rushes out of the VIP section and onto the field.

Thank god the boys weren’t here to see this.

“Harry!”

The familiar voice makes Niall stop and turn around to see a furious Y/N pushing all the players out of the way. The once soft spoken woman was now yelling at the men to break up the brawl.

And the surprising part was the men were actually listening to her, even the ones not on her husband’s team.

Slowly the referees began pouring into the flock of people on the football field, attempting to calm the situation down but they failed.

“I fucking dare you to say that again!” Harry grunts, throwing another punch to Leo.

“Mate! Stop it!” Niall yells, trying to pull his friend off of the opposite player. He didn’t know why people tried to test Harry. If you did one thing to make him pissed off then just be prepared for the worst.

The blood seeping into his jersey didn’t stop him, Niall screaming bloody murder didn’t stop him, the crowds yelling didn’t stop him.

What stopped him was the referee threatening his wife.

Very quickly he forgot about Leo on the ground and focused on the referee yelling in Y/N’s face. She didn’t seem scared at all, she looked like she was going to rip his head off.

Once he stalked towards the pair, Y/N immediately jumped at Harry and grabbed his face, analyzing him for any injuries. Not even three seconds into trying to find out if he’s hurt, Harry softly grabs his wife’s hands and slowly puts them down.

After making his way around her, Harry now glares at the referee who still was scowling at Y/N.

Harry didn’t like that.

“Threatening my wife huh?” Harry clenches his jaw, now facing the man.

“She can’t be on the field. I asked her numerous times to leave but she seems to not listen-“

“This is my field, I play here. The only reason why the league is still in business is because of me.” He grits out. “Without me, there would be no Chelsea team. So if my wife wants to fucking come onto the feild she can.”

“With all due respect Harry-“

“Mr. Styles, it’s Mr. Styles to you.” Harry snaps, cutting the referee off.

“Mr. Styles.” The man corrected himself with a smirk. Harry could tell he was trying to act like a hot shot in front of everyone, it wasn’t his first day trying to be humiliated by someone. “Your fines are going to keep adding up and I don’t know if you could pay that much-“

“You think I can’t pay some fines?” Harry scoffs, shaking his head. “Me and my wife could buy you. My newborn daughter could buy you. So don’t tell me I can’t pay some fucking fines!”

Later on after the match when Harry was at home watching Y/N breastfeed their daughter Eden he suddenly got a text from the team’s manager.

The referee from earlier?

The league got your request, he’s let go.

Have a good night Harry! Oh and tell Y/N, Glenne needs nursery recommendations. Goodnight H!

-

tag list: @harrysmatcha @harryspinkpillow @helen-with-an-a @florencepughily @peterparkerbae @toji-dabi-wife @fallonx @drphilssoulmate @cherriesrae @alienorknight @valluvsu @ivegotparticulartaste @ayeshathestyles @hazgoldenstyles @eiffelmezarry @tsukishimawhore @renatavieira @michellekstyles @eleanordaisy @shawnsblue @japanchrry @agustdpeach @hannahnikohl @whoscamila @ch3rryrry @msolbesg @seguin-styles1996 @futuristicpalacegardenpsychic @youusunshineyoutemptress @kaitieskidmore1 @cherryfragrancx @ssuziess @milkiane @golden-hoax @flwrmuse @sunshinemendes8 @your--sweetest--downfall @melllinaa @iluvjj @tenaciousperfectionunknown @cashtons-wife @stellarossii @scenesofobx @manifestrry @lomlolivia @b-reads-things

[oneshotnewbie]

Olivia benson x reader where the reader is Olivia’s daughter and a perp runs into her during the chase and hurts the reader and Olivia catches the perp and then mother daughter fluff

Authors note: It's pretty short but I just don't have the time or motivation to write right now. I hope you still like it, even if it doesn't correspond to the extent that you know from me ♥

...

"Idiot, watch where you are going!" you yelled in the direction where the man next to you landed face down onto the street. He fell to his knees in front, not bringing his hand forward in time to steady himself and smacked face first onto the sidewalk. Something cracked, his glasses or his nose- probably both.

Your elbow suddenly turned into the sensation of lightning and fiery pain and you placed it in the palm of your hand. Out of frustration and flooded with throbbing pain in your entire upper arm, the heel of your boot intentionally dug into the side of his thigh and let him groan out in pain.

His head dragged on the floor, trying to protect his face from the small stones scraping the skin like sandpaper. A piece of his broken glasses got caught in the ground and cut his face in his movement. The dripping blood out of his deep laceration on his cheek, intensified that angry, devilish smirk that he threw at you.

His long brown hair, which was sticking out in all directions after your collision, almost made his eyes disappear. Your gaze traveled further down his body and got stuck on his hands. Within them, he held something that had a razor-sharp blade and reflected the sun´s rays.

The knife lay at your feet and the movement of his hand scraped the rough concrete with a metallic sound. Fearful, you backed up slowly trying to gain some space between the two of you and swallowed hard as you watched him hesitate. Instead of lunging at you, he looked around, apparently trying to get away from someone.

Not five seconds later, you felt and heard more noises behind you; rough and loud footsteps rushing towards you at a rapid pace, creaking on the concrete floor, mingling with hounded voices; voices of people you knew.

Sergeant Finn Tutola, your mother´s best friend, bent down in front of you and briefly jolted you out of your thoughts. "Y/n, what are you doing here?" he asked in surprise and grabbed the man´s feet before pulling him off the sidewalk away from you and onto the street. Pistol holstered, his hands gripped the suspect´s upper arm and twisted him onto his back before pulling him up.

"Just catching a little break. There are not enough benches in the area so I figured why not just sit out here?" the dark-haired shakes his head with laughter at your sarcasm and reached out a hand to pull you up from the cold ground. Thanking, you clasped his hands in your non-painful one and jumped up.

Around the corner of the street on which you were now standing across from each other, another figure ran towards you and you could already see from afar that it was your mother who came to support her best friend. The brunette dogged her heels into the gravel when she realized her sergeant had everything in control, but gave you a questioning look, eyebrows furrowed as she jogged the last few meters standing between you.

"Hey mom"

"Your daughter caught this one" he thrust his arm forward, which he had anchored around the young man´s handcuffed wrist, and nudged the suspect a little to add more emphasis to his sentence. Proudly, he smiles at you softly. "Now off to the police station with you. You have a lot to explain"

Olivia stood at your side and tucked a strand of hair, that had become tangled on your face from the gentle breeze, behind your ear. "What happened?" she asked worried as she stepped closer to you. You looked like you were in pain and judging by your jacket, it had suffered too. Her hand tentatively rested on one of your shoulders and ran down the leather of your jacket until she came to a larger cut that parted the material.

"What a crap," you scolded under your breath and looked at the place where you felt her fingers on your skin; stirring over the split leather. "Your suspect knocked me to the ground because the idiot did not see me"

You grimaced in pain as you braced your elbow in your hand again. Your mother was shocked at first- she did not tolerate any missteps when it came to you and you knew instantly, that the young man will later face an short-tempered woman who would make his life hell in the interrogation room.

The brunette quickly but carefully began to slide your jacket off your shoulders, exposing your slowly discolored skin. She gasped when she saw the blue color running from your elbow to the middle of your forearm. With every step that she tried to move your arm to get a closer look, your body tensed in front of her.

Olivia kept glancing at your face, worry creeping into her serious expression. "Ouch!" you gasped and gritted your teeth hard. The brunette worked quickly, not wanting to prolong your pain any further. "A doctor needs to look at that. Come on, let´s get you to the hospital"

Carefully, she placed a hand on your shoulder and pulled you closer to her; her lips gently drawing three small kisses into your hair while one of her hands supported your elbow. "Mh.." you closed your eyes and unconsciously leaned onto her.

She grinned at the way you were when you were hurt. You have always been someone who enjoyed her warmth, cuddles and kisses and never put her off. If she did not know otherwise, she do say you could not have more love coming from you. But she always misjudged it; when you were sick or in pain, a little more of your dependence on her always came out.

But she did not complain. You were the greatest gift that life had to offer and could give you. With you, she was complete.

[noellawrites]

“Blissful” Marriage - yandere!Billy Andrews x fem!reader

summary: your husband Billy has a surprise for your fifth wedding anniversary, but it’s not what you might think

warnings: arranged marriage mention, abusive relationship, Billy being an asshole obviously

As soon as you woke up next to your sleeping husband, you were hit with the brutal realization that today was somehow significant. As you took a deep breath, you tried to remember. It wasn't a holiday, nor was it either of your children's birthdays.

You pondered it as you prepared breakfast for your family in the quiet kitchen. The sun rose around you as you buttered toast and scrambled the eggs. Then all of a sudden, you dropped your knife with a clatter.

It was you and Billy's wedding anniversary.

It had been five years since your father handed you over to Billy Andrews, neither of you even eighteen years old when the wedding occurred.

You loved your children more than anything, but sometimes Billy felt like your third child. He had cooled down from his teenage years now with both of you in your early twenties, thankfully.

"Breakfast ready yet?" Billy asked from behind you. You hadn't even heard him come down the stairs.

You turned around, "almost, sorry."

"Hurry up, I'm hungry and the kids will be up soon," Billy sneered, grabbing the plate of bacon and taking it to the table.

Your husband sat and stared as you tried to set the table quickly. You could hear your son and daughter stirring in their rooms upstairs, and you'd have to carry your daughter with you as she was only two.

"Can you finish bringing the food over, Billy? I have to get Steph," you said hurriedly.

"Isn't that your job?" he groaned.

"Billy—“

"It's my wedding anniversary, I'm not doing any work," he stated, leaving no room for discussion.

You trudged up the stairs, each step feeling more difficult than the last. You were pregnant again, around four months in. You pitied the next poor child who would suffer at the hands of Billy Andrews being their father.

"Stephie, c'mere. Mama's got you," you cooed as you lifted your little girl out of her crib.

"Mama!" she giggled, her sweet little voice bringing a smile to your face.

You heard your son, William Junior, run down the stairs ahead of you, ready to greet his father. Billy was your son's favorite person, which scared you more than anything. You didn't want to raise a mini Billy, yet he'd insisted on naming his firstborn son after him anyway.

The four of you sat down at the table, Billy pulling you down onto the bench next to him and kissing you harshly on the mouth.

"Mommy, daddy, eww!" William laughed, with Stephanie's giggle following close behind.

"You kids are going over to Aunt Priscilla's today to play with your cousins," Billy stated, placing his hand on your thigh underneath the table.

"But dad, why?" William whined, slamming his fork on the table next to his plate.

"It's your mother and I's anniversary and I have something special planned," he said, fingers inching towards your undergarments.

You were scared, but slightly aroused. Billy, though not husband of the year, was pretty good in bed. He was always more concerned with his own pleasure, but you enjoyed being close to him, making him happy. It made you feel like a good wife.

—

Billy shut the door behind his sister as she left with your kids in tow, ready to spend a fun day with their cousins.

"So, what do you have planned?" you ask, turning and smiling to your husband. He dropped his arm from around your waist and looked at you with a hardened expression.

"Get on the ground."

"Billy, what—“

"YOU HEARD ME!" he yelled, pointing his finger directly at your face.

Wordlessly, you bent down onto the floor. Your husband threw a wet, vinegary sponge at you and crossed his hands across his chest.

"These floors are disgusting and you have no excuses. The bathrooms will be next. On my anniversary of suffering through marriage with you, I at least deserve to have a clean home," Billy growled.

You looked down. It hadn't even been a full week since you did the floors, and you felt nauseous after your descent to the floor, but you blinked back your tears and went to work anyway.

You crawled around like that for hours, dodging Billy's criticisms and suffering your way through your fifth wedding anniversary.

All of a sudden, you stood up and stomped over to where your husband sat in his study.

"Billy, what did I do wrong? I know our other anniversaries hadn't been much but... at least it seemed like you'd cared for me," you frown.

"I've been too nice to you lately and I need to put you back in your place. You are my wife and therefore my property," he declared.

"Billy, I raise your kids, take care of your home and do nothing but love you," you sniffle, almost pleading with him.

"I have grown tired of you. Get out of my sight," he stated simply.

You looked into his blue eyes and saw nothing, no traces of guilt or any feelings beyond anger.

Without another word, you turned around and headed outside, going straight to your garden. You at least wanted to bring some pretty flowers into your home on your anniversary, if nothing else.

You tried not to think of that dreadful day when your freedom and innocence was stolen away five years ago, but it lingered in your mind.

[fields-of-grimes]

Sweet with a little spice | Carl Grimes

Request: if your ok with it would u be up to do a Carl x reader who’s Daryl’s daughter and she’s girly but badass like Ada from resident evil? Please make it fluffy and romantic if your ok with it 🫣😫

Carl Grimes x fem!reader

———————————————————————

You were standing in the middle of your room twisting and turning in front of your mirror trying to see all the angles of the clothes you were trying on. Whenever someone in Alexandria asks who your family is, they never believe you when you say you’re Daryl Dixon’s daughter, not because they think you’re weak but because you squeal like a little kid on Christmas when you see or hear anything about clothes or makeup.

You jumped slightly at the sound of your door opening, but you smiled when you saw Carl appear in your mirror. “Hey baby, how was the run?” You asked him as you turned to face him slightly scanning over him to see if he had anything behind his back for you but mostly to make sure that we was okay. “It was good, i was gonna stop at some makeup store we passed and get you some stuff but we got overrun by a heard of walkers.” He said making you gasp and run to him completely ignoring the fact that the clothes you spent so long smoothing out had fallen on the floor from you practically jumping over the bed to assess your loving boyfriend.

“Are you okay!? Did you get bit, scratched, hurt?” You asked him frantically making him laugh at how concerned you are. “Y/N baby I’m fine i promise, now let’s take these clothes to Carol and have her iron them to get the wrinkles out yeah?” He asked walking around you and very carefully picking up the clothes on the floor. You smiled and grabbed some clothes as well before following him.

As you both were walking one of the newer kids walked past you before laughing, “Wow big and strong Carl Grimes is carrying clothes instead of helping on the wall just wait until Daryl hears about this.” He continued walking before you stopped and very carefully handed the clothes you were carrying to Carl making sure he had a good grip on them before storming after the kid.

“Hey kid listen!” You shouted before grabbing his arm forcing him to face you. “Let’s get one thing straight here kid, i get it you’re new and don’t know a lot of things but I’m gonna let you know one thing so make sure you’re listening pipsqueak, my name is Y/N Dixon.” You said causing the kids eyes to widen. “Daryl is your..your” he stuttered before you scoffed at him, “My dad, and Carl here just got back from a run with his parents, Rick and Michonne, so before you go spitting out your words you might wanna know who you’re smarting off to.” You growled before releasing him and storming back to Carl.

“Damn babe that was hot.” Carl said laughing as he handed some of the clothes back to you, as you both continued on to Carol’s. You both were almost there when Carl stopped walking. “Oh shit i almost forgot.” He said slipping a hand into his pocket, you furrowed your brows at him. “What?” You asked him becoming even more confused as he just continued walking after pulling something out of his pocket, you quickly followed him as you realized he had already made it inside Carol’s house.

“Hey Carol could you iron these? Y/N accidentally knocked them onto the floor and i don’t want her to have to walk around in wrinkled clothing, i want only the best of the best for her.” He explained as Carol agreed and told you both where to place the clothes. After you both put the clothes down and said your goodbyes to Carol, he took you to the lake.

“Here sit on this.” Carl spoke as he took his flannel off and placed it on the ground for you to sit on. You smiled and did so, Carl sat next to you seeming nervous. “You alright? Did that kid say something else i didn’t hear cause i swear to god i will go get dads crossbow and shove it up his ass.” You said as you started to get up, but only to be pulled back down. “No he didn’t say anything, and besides i don’t think Daryl would appreciate you giving him his crossbow back after its been up someone’s ass.” He said laughing. “I told Carol that i want the best of the best for you, and i was going to wait until our anniversary but please don’t kill me when i say this, but i actually don’t know when that is, so im going to give this to you now.” He said handing you a box.

You furrowed your brows once more before opening the box to reveal a necklace with a letter C on it. “Oh my god Carl i love it!” You said kissing him softly, “and don’t worry i don’t know when our anniversary is either but who cares because as long as im with you i don’t need dates, or fancy dresses and dinners, i just need you Carl Grimes.” You said making him smile and blush. “And i only need you Y/N Dixon.”

—————————————————————————————————————————————————-

I’m sorry if this was bad, like I’ve stated before I’ve never seen or played resident evil

[obxthornton]

Shoes

JJ X Reader

Wc: 726

"I don't know where it is Y/n!" JJ yelled at me.

I stood there, water hose in one hand and the other on my hip. I had one eyebrow raised staring at the boy infront of me.

"Liar!" I yelled pushing the Handle on the nozzle spraying JJ. He stood there eyes closed annoyed as the water sprayed him in the face. I let go and he opened them, spitting water out of his mouth and shaking his hair like a wet dog.

"Now I'll ask again. Where are my shoes." I huffed.

JJ tried to hold back a smile as he shook his head. "Haven't seen them." His eyes darted to the roof of the house and I turned around looking on top of John b house.

I let out a loud groan seeing my shoes were thrown on the very top.

"JJ I'm going to hurt you." I growled turning around already seeing JJ running.

I sprinted after him as he did laps around John b house.

"You both are stupid!" Kie yelled from the porch. I flipped her off as I passed her. JJ laughed now skipping infront of me, a huge smile on his face.

A small smirk came on face as I saw the water hose nozzle placed right where he had ran. I let my foot get caught on it and I hit the ground alittle harder than expected to be honest.

I let the tears stream down my face as I let out an audible scream.

When I was younger when I would ask my brother to do something for me or help me with my homework, would always throw some tears in there just to sell it. That led me to be the queen of fake crying on command and right now it seemed to be working.

I grasped my foot and bit my lip as if I was trying not to scream again. I looked over at kie who looked at me amused knowing what I was doing. she held her hand over John b chest who had stood up and was about to run over.

"N/n? N/n are you okay?" JJ asked running over nealing infront of me, face filled with concern.

"JJ my foot." I cried holding onto my foot tightly.

"Can I see it?" He asked rubbing my arm softly.

I almost felt bad for pretending, he was being so nice. Almost.

"It's broken." I winced.

"Okay um. I'll go get your shoes and then we'll go to the hospital okay?" He said. I nodded and he stood up and walked up to the porch, climbing on to the roof.

He threw my shoes down and I smirked standing up.

"Thank you." I said sing song as I grabbed them putting them on.

"Oh you son of a-" he started but I held up my finger to stop him. "Daughter actually." I corrected walking up to the porch holding up my hand and helping him down.

He glared at me before scooping me up in his arms and throwing me over his shoulder.

"Maybanks put me down. We're even don't make it uneven." I huffed hitting his back. He ran to John b peir before patting my back and throwing me into the water.

"JJ!" I yelled coming up for air completely soaked

"Now we're both wet." He smiled.

"I am fully convinced you never graduated kindergarten." I huffed grabbing JJ hand as he pulled me up out of the dock.

He rolled his eyes. "Now we're even."

I raised and eyebrow at him before pushing his shoulders back and let him fall off the peir hitting the water.

"Now we are." I said smiling at he came up out of the water, spitting some out.

I waved at him before walking off the pier towards John b house, ringing out my shirt on the way.

"You both are children." Kie said as I sat next to her on the couch. I shrugged. "He started it."

John b snorted and shook his head.

"But hey I got my shoes back." I smiled wiggling my feet.

JJ walked on the porch coughing. "I think I swallowed a fish."

[aussiepineapple1st]

Plaga Control

Leon x GN!Reader Summery: This is set during RE4, Leon and you are tasked to retrieve The First Daughter. Leon had insisted and managed to convince he would need help, that way if something happens to him Ashley would still have a chance at coming home. You were his pick, Naturally. You and Leon are a couple, have been dating since just after the events of Racoon City where you kept each other alive.

Words: 2,452 Contains: Fluff, Angst, Body Control, Sad Scared Baby Boy.

"ASHLEY!" You call out as she runs off in fear, dropping Leon's knife she had taken from him. "Damn it.." Leon cursed under his breath, leaning against the gate now separating you both from Ashley. You both note the direction she runs in and stay silent, the gears in both of your heads turning. You had been lucky enough to not be infected with the Plaga so far, it didn't seem fun. Turning to Leon your eyes are drawn to the dark veins running up his forearms, slight discolouration running along his neck up to his jawline. How long was it until he was also going to lose control?

Shaking your head to remove your thoughts, right now you needed to get Baby Eagle back. "Welp... Now what?" You asked placing your hands on your hips, looking around to try and find another way around. The walls were tall and slippery from the recent rain, so there was no chance of clambering over them.

"I'll contact Hunnigan, let her know we've been separated from Ashley. You look around for any way we can continue forwards." He instructs, placing two fingers to his left ear. You give Leon a nod, him returning the gesture as he turns back towards the direction Ashley had run in.

Walking around a corner you find some VERY broken stairs, leading up to the walls surrounding this maze-like area you were now in. Snapping your fingers you grab Leon's attention who finishes his Sit-Rep to Roost. "We can get up onto the walls this way." You instruct, Leon making his way over to you and looking up at the crumbling, disheveled stairs you had found. His head tilts to the side slightly as he exhales.

"I'll go first." He goes to step forwards but was stopped by the back of your hand making contact with his chest. Looking to you quickly with confused, furrowed brows.

"No you don't, big foot. There'll be no stairs left for me after you clump up them. I'll go first." You say casually, it was a genuine statement but made Leon smirk and shake his head at your humour. Walking towards the stone staircase you examine where you were going to be putting each foot, once planned out in your head you begin your ascension. Easily making your way over the large gaps, using the crumbling walls to aid keeping you on your feet. The last hurdle was a large jump to the ground level of the wall, the gap being a good meter and the ground just taller than your head. Wiping your hands on your pants, you crouch slightly to get that pouncing action ready. Leaping forwards your hands grip onto the edge, your body slamming against the jagged wall where stairs should be. Wincing with an "OOF", you manage to use the toe of your boot to kick into the wall and create the smallest foot hold. Using that you pull yourself up onto the ground, rolling onto your side facing where you had just come from.

Leon was next, finding his own way, but was almost following in your own footwork. He managed to make it to the top, leaping to grab the edge you offer a hand to him. Making sure he had grip enough with his right hand, his left takes yours and you pull him enough that his right leg could swing up, helping him onto the ground with you. Both panting slightly from the light exercise, you look around at the area now below you. A door straight ahead leading into a new part of the castle. "How big is this place?" You asked yourself as Leon stood to his own two feet, brushing his hands together.

"I'm not sure, but I'm also not a fan." Leon said making sure you were ready to continue before he leads the way. Making your way inside you couldn't help but look at the darkening veins on Leon's arms and neck once again. Following behind him in silence as you both made your way through the elegant, yet unkempt halls. Your silence wasn't unusual, but for this long it was. You hadn't spoken up in about 10 minutes now, and Leon could see in on your face when he would glance at you, your brain was working overtime. 

"You know, if you keep making your brain work that hard it's going to break." He finally speaks through the silence, pulling you from your deep thoughts. "We'll get her back. Don't worry." He assured.

"I know, it's not that though." You explained.

"Then what is it?" He asks stopping at yet another door you were going to be entering through. He turns to look at you, one hand on his hip. You stop in front of him seeing his posture, Leon's face asking you a question, waiting patiently for your answer.

"It's you... And Ashley I guess." Your eyes leave his and flick to the veins on his neck and arms. Leon looks to where your eyes went, holding his arms up in front of him and giving a sigh. He had noticed them as well. "What if.. You also get controlled? I don't.." You stop and sigh, rubbing your forehead with your fingers. The grime coming off in small clumps that you pick off and rub between your fingers before flicking it on the ground. 

Leon was now silent, trying to think of some way to console his partner. Placing a hand on your shoulder your eyes look to his forearm beside your face and then meet his gaze. "Let's just focus on getting Ashley back, then we can figure that out, okay?" It wasn't the best assurance you could have heard, if it was even assurance at all. His words were more of a: let's continue and I have no clue on what we are going to do. All you could do was nod to let him know you agreed with his words, your gaze falling to the ground between you both. Leon felt your shoulder fall under his hand as you fear you may loose him. Looking over you once again he sighs and steps forwards, wrapping his arms around you. Surprised at the sudden unprofessionalism from your partner, it still didn't stop you from wrapping your arms around his mid-section. Burying your face into his chest.

"I'll be fine. But I can't do this without you right now." He softly says into the side of your head. You nod and pull away from him, wiping your eyes and sniffing as you try to steal yourself. You were worried about him, you were worried about Ashley.

"We should get going." You say looking back up to Leon who was looking at you with slight sorrow in his eyes, he hated seeing you cry.

"Alright. Let's go." He says gently touching the side of your face, giving you a forced smile before turning to enter the door you were both standing in front of.

-----*30 Minutes Later*-----

You had found a room full of these annoying cultists, being ambushed after trying to figure out how to open a door gated off. Finally downing the last of them, you pant heavily, leaning against a dresser in the centre of the room. Looking over to Leon, he stumbled back on his feet catching himself as he reloads Matilda, then places her back in the holster on his right hip. You had this sudden urge to check inside the drawers of this dresser and low and behold. "A KEY!" You shouted over to him with relief in your tired voice, you could now get through the door. 

Walking over to Leon you look at the key in your hand as you place your own gun in it's holster strapped to the back of your belt. "Who the hell just leaves a key in a dresser for anyone to find. I guess it works in our favour, huh?" You say amused, a smile on your face as you look up to Leon. Your smile starts to slowly fade as he was just standing there, back facing you. You feel your heart starting to pump harder than it already was, a wash of warmth runs through your body as you knew something was wrong. "Leon?" You say his name to try and catch his attention. 

"Don't worry about your partner, dear child." You hear a voice say from the top of the room, a small ledge spanning the length of one wall. It must be some observation landing as this room was almost set up to be an arena disguised as a normal room. Turning to face him you pull your gun out once again, aiming up to him, your back now facing Leon.

"Who are you?!" You shout up to the hooded man, you hadn't seen this guy before.

"I am Osmund Saddler." That name rings a bell, with all the visions Leon and Ashley had been having, plus the Ganados saying that word often enough, you had pieced together that this was the guy in charge of everything happening here. Your thoughts were cut off as you felt a strong arm wrap around your neck, a second arm holding under your right armpit, putting you into a tight headlock. You knew the arms to be Leon's, dropping your gun and key to the ground you start to struggle. Your wind pipe being restricted as you start clawing at his left forearm around your neck. Trying to swing your elbow into his side to release you, nothing worked. You could hear Leon grunting in your right ear, his muscles sporadically tensing as you could tell he was desperately trying to fight his own body. He could feel your body becoming limper as seconds ticked by. You hadn't realised anyone enter the room as the edge of your vision was already black, a sharp pain emanating from your right arm that was suspended by Leon's vice grip. You could swear your head was going to be dislocated from your neck any second now. Your neck giving a few loud cracks before everything went black.

Leon hears the cracks and feels you suddenly go limp, a shooting pain is sent to his gut feeling a tightness in his chest at the same time. Did he just kill you? His eyes flick up to Saddler as he leaves the room and he was suddenly released from his control. Falling to the ground, Leon still holds you in his arms. He could only hold your back to his chest, your head limply slumped over his left forearm. He twists your body so you were laying face up, your bottom resting in his lap as he held you. A trembling hand rests on your neck, his fingers placed under your jaw, hoping, praying to anything that he would feel a pulse.

It was there, the slowing throbbing of the veins in your neck. He felt his entire being relax, pulling you into his chest, a hand on the back of your head as he rocks. He thought he had killed you, all the relief and fear started to leave his eyes in the form of tears. Burying his face into your neck he heard you breathing in his ear, causing choked sobs to leave his throat.

You feel yourself come to, your body being rocked back and forth as you hear Leon's sobs, feeling his breath and tears on your neck and collar bone. You weakly reach a hand up to place on Leon's side, it was the first place your hand met him. Flinching at your touch, Leon lifts his neck, turning his head to look into your eyes. Pulling your hand from his side, you pull your arm from under his and place it gently on his cheek. Thumb brushing away the tears from his left eye as you smile up at him. "I'm not dead, but boy does my neck feel good right now." You joke, trying to lift the mood.

"It's not funny, I thought I snapped your neck!" Leon caught the humour, but at the same time needed to express how worried he was. "I thought I lost you." He adds wiping the tears from his face with the palm of his left glove, his right hand still cradling your head. You just watch him, he really did need you, whether that be right now on this mission or just in general. You assumed both. 

"Leon?" You said suddenly. His hand moving away from his eyes as he was exhaling to try and calm himself down. You look into his eyes once you had his attention. "If I die... Don't be like this for the rest of your life, okay?"

"What are you saying?" He asked, brows knitting into worry.

"I mean, just in general. If I die on a mission or whatever, promise me you won't drown yourself in alcohol?"

"(Y/N), I don't know if I can-"

"Promise me, damn it!" You say, eyes starting to tear up. You see him thinking, his eyes switching between both of yours, finally giving a few quick nods.

"Y-Yeah, alright, I promise." You could see in his eyes he meant it, and even if that meant he would probably still have a few, you knew he would try his best to not drown his sorrows away. 

"I want you to move on. Try and find someone else, someone else to confide in and not close off. You don't do well when you shut off, neither of us do." You add, not making him promise this, but at least you knew he might be able to move on with his life knowing that's what you want. "Of course all of this is hypothetical, okay? I don't plan on ever leaving you, but we can't be too sure of that."

"And I want you to do the same if I die." Leon adds. You give him a nod and wrap your arms around his neck, he wraps both of his arms around your body and hugs you tight.

"Right.. Now that I'm infected as well, we should continue finding Ashley." You say pulling away from him and crawling to your feet, holding down a hand to help Leon off the floor.

"Yeah, we need to figure out a cure. We can't have Ashley going home infected." He says taking your hand and hoisting himself up with your help. You nod to him and lean forwards giving him a kiss on the lips. "Just a quick pick-me-up." You say with a small smile and bend over to pick up your gun and the key. "Let's find Baby Eagle."

🏷️: @phoenix666stuff @maehemthemisfit @greywardensaywhat

[vivianleighwishesshewasme]

The Italian Beasts Beauty

John Shelby's daughter, Charlotte May is offered up to the Changretta's through marriage to end the vendetta. She is processing her fathers senseless death. Can she understand her husbands perspective and fall in love with him?

Luca stood at the altar trying not to fidget. This was the same church his cousin had gotten married in fifteen years ago. Blood red roses, baby's breath flowers and ornate crystals hung everywhere showing the guests in an elaborate warm ceremony. 

Truthfully nothing was warm or romantic about this wedding.

Thomas Shelby and Audrey Changretta had come up with a truce. 

A wedding between John Shelby’s eldest daughter, Charlotte May Shelby. And Vincente Changretta’s son, Luciano Changretta. 

He’d never laid on his bride to be. He hoped she was at least decent to look at, she was a Shelby. There women looked English so it could go either way. He just hoped she didn't look like a horse. 

“Come on, when does the fucking thing start?” Irritation was latched onto every nerve in his being. He’d just wanted to kill them all and go back to New York. 

No, his mother insisted he get a bride before he headed back. 

“Luca, look.” Matteo nodded down the aisle. The music swelled as he turned to see his bride to be walking down the aisle by her two surviving uncles. Thomas Shelby and Arthur Shelby.

Well…she was being carried. He could tell she was stiff, her feet dangling comically off the ground as they carried her forward. 

Great, she was already trying to embarrass him. He grit his teeth and clenched his fist. He found his mother in the crowd and shot her an evil eye. How dare she marry him off into this family! This was a fucking joke!

He should have married his brother's whore and avenged Angelo on his wedding night. 

“Straighten up, now!” Tommy’s voice growled out low and menacing. Luca sighed. They were actually agreeing on something. What was with this broad? 

“Come on luv, it's your wedding day. Smile eh.” Her uncle Arthur pleaded softly. 

Luca almost laughed out loud when she shoved them both off and walked the two steps up to him.

The priest started the ceremony immediately in Italian, both parties kneeled. 

Her veil was so thick he couldn’t even see a face shape under it. She'd worn a little tiara with a red rose over it, securing her face from his view. He’d noticed when she stood in front of him that she was no bigger than a peanut. Maybe 5 feet and no inches if he were being generous. He was 6’1. He towered over her like a giant. 

“Settle down, I don’t wanna be here either.” He whispered harshly, glaring at her. His jaw set in anger. He wasn’t angry with her, not that she understood that. The whole situation was just a big fucking joke to him. 

Her trembling was so bad, he could hear the top of her shoes tapping on the floor as they knelt in front of the priest. She was scared out of her mind. He reached over and grabbed her hand holding it tightly. She tried pulling away of course, it was no use. He was stronger. He’d meant it to be comforting. He swore she sucked in a breath. 

After an hour the ceremony was finally finished. They stood facing each other, she still heavily veiled like a grecian virgin. He took a deep breath in as he lifted the fabric.

“ You look like a fuckin doll.” His New York accent was thick but he couldn’t breath if he tried. She was absolutely stunning. 

“Tu sei bellissima.” He muttered as his side of the church gasped. The Shelby’s had outdone themselves. She was worth the whole Vendetta. 

He couldn’t take his eyes off of her. 

She had a heart shaped face, delicate and sweet. Pulp full red lips and huge gray eyes. Must have been from her mothers side. Pale blonde hair that hung loosely to her mid back. Everything about her was petite and porcelain-like, fragile and dainty like a living doll. If he squeezed her too tight he’d have no doubt she’d shatter. She was going to be the envy of all of New York City! Now she was his. 

Charlotte stood still next to her husband's side al;l night like a dutiful little wife. She wasn’t surprised when her family had abandoned her after the ceremony. Ada stayed until her babysitter needed to be relieved from her cousin  Karl. which was before dinner.

Charlotte, Lottie Shelby…Changretta, was now completely embedded within her husband's family.  

She couldn’t speak Italian, there had been no preparation. He’ll she hadn’t even had time to process her father's passing. The image of him pale and still in his military splendor in the caravan before it was engulfed in flames.

Flames of Hell she thought. All because of what? He wouldn’t let his ex fiance date or marry her Italian lover? He was already  committed to her beautiful and feral gypsy step mom Esme Lee Shelby.  Charlotte couldn’t imagine why he chose to start a war, or why her uncle needed to encourage it. For what?

It had been a Christmas she’d never forget, that was for sure. Her wedding was taking place on January 1st. 

A New Year for a new alliance.  If she ever saw her aunt Polly again, she’d slap her for coining that phrase. Her family had been saying it all week. 

“ Bellissima, they want us to finish dinner, cut the cake and dance.” He was leaning into her. His husky voice was like silk passing through her ears. 

God, she wanted to hate him. She couldn’t though. She didn’t understand her fathers choices. He’d killed her husband's brother and then his father. Nothing had even come out of it! Fucking waste. 

Her mother in law seemed uncomfortable with her presence in spite of the fact that this had been her plan. 

She followed him, mechanical all night. She just smiled. Nodded her face like a doll and said what she was told to say. 

He was handsome, Dark hair, olive skin and piercing eyes. He had been accommodating and seemed genuinely pleased to have her by his side. It was her face, she hadn’t said two words to him outside of the vows. 

She couldn’t wait for her own wedding day…

to be over.