#she didn’t know exactly what would happen but i think she had

[pholla-jm]

Hii may i ask Monster trio x reader (separately). and that reader Finds out shes pregnant, like how would they react and how would they be during the pregnancy and Maybe after?

tried to be the most specific I could. btw if u dont want to write it feel free to ignore this request.

Anyway have a good day/night! and ty if u take this request

PREGNANT?!

A/N: So this is going to be in 3 parts! Also, sorry it took so long to get it out. Life has been so crazy lately so I barely have time anymore. Anyway, I hope you enjoy. Characters: Luffy x reader, Zoro x reader, Sanji x reader. warnings: not really proof read. reader has a female body.

Luffy:

I think that Luffy would be confused at first, but then he would be really excited. ~~~~~~~~~~~~

You had no idea how this could happen… well you did know exactly how it happened. But you didn’t think this day would come. At least, not this soon. You and Luffy never even mentioned or thought about babies. 

How would he even react?  You knew you had to tell him right away. The longer you waited, the more you would get nervous. 

The tricky part is how you were going to explain it to him. Sure, Luffy can be smart in his own ways… but you weren’t sure of his knowledge on female anatomy. 

With a heavy sigh, you exit the bathroom and head towards the deck. Right where Luffy would be. As you expected, Luffy was chilling on the headmast. 

“Hey Luffy!” You gained his attention. He looks down at you with a large smile, “Hey (y/n)! Want to join me?” He asks and you don’t even have to think about it. 

It’s the perfect place to tell him. No one can hear you and it’s private. Before you can even answer, he wraps his arm around you so that he can pull you up. 

The first thing that pops up in your head is how he is going to have to be more careful now. Not that he isn’t… but there are definitely times when he accidentally threw you into a wall. 

“Where have you been?” He asks as soon as you settle down in front of him. “Restroom. There is actually something I want to talk to you about.” 

Luffy can sense the seriousness in your voice and he knew that this wasn’t a time to joke around. “Yeah.. what is it?” “Umm… so I noticed that I was late to my period…” Luffy tilts his head and you can tell that he doesn’t exactly know what that means. 

“Long story short, I’m pregnant.” You felt a sense of relief come off your chest as you told him. Luffy’s eyebrows were furrowed as he looked down at your stomach. 

“You have a baby in your stomach?” “Well, no. Not my stomach. My uterus.” “Which is where again?” 

You grab his hand and put it right where your uterus would be. “Right here.” You whisper and Luffy tries to lean closer to your stomach. 

“Where’s the baby?” He asks, genuinely confused. You laughed a little, “no, Lu. It’s like the size of a pea right now. It’s going to grow over time.” 

Luffy snaps back up, “really?” There is a large smile on his face, and you knew right then and there that Luffy is going to be a great father. 

Zoro: 

I think Zoro would internally freak out and wouldn’t know what to do. Because of this you freak out, thinking negative things. Until Zoro tells you differently. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You stared at the double pink lines, nerves started to fill your whole body. Your hands start to shake and the first thing you do is throw away the stick. You moved the trash around, so that stick is more hidden. 

Next thing you know, you’re in your room. Pacing back and forth as thoughts filled your head. 

How were you going to tell him? How would he react? What if you just didn’t tell him? No, that would be ridiculous. He would tell when the bump came in. 

You don’t even notice Zoro leaning against your door frame. 

“Whatca thinking about?” He asks, and you don’t even stop pacing. 

“Thinking how I’m going to tell you that I’m pregnant?” You say without even thinking. It just slipped through. As soon as those words came out of your mouth, you stopped pacing and your heart dropped. 

You look at him full of shock and wide eyes. You didn’t mean to tell him that way. His expression matched yours and you had no idea what was going through his head. 

“Uh-” “How long have you known?” He asks and you shake your head. “I- I just found out. And I was thinking of a way to tell you.” You explain. 

Zoro doesn’t say anything… instead he walks out of your room. Leaving you alone. 

Your heart sinks… you couldn’t believe he just walked out. You had no idea what he was thinking. Well, it couldn’t be good if he just walked out! With an exaggerated groan, you flop down onto your bed. You were frustrated with Zoro and with yourself. 

You don’t know how long you laid in bed with tears flowing down your face. But the sun was gone, and your stomach was rumbling. 

With a sigh, you wipe your face, getting rid of any evidence that you cried. 

There was a knock on your door, and you sat up only to see Zoro. 

You sighed, a frown on your face. “Hey,” Zoro says, holding up a plate of fresh dinner, “I saw that you didn’t come up for dinner. So I.. I um brought it down for you. You know, you can’t starve yourself with the baby.” 

He comes into the room and sits next to you. He puts the plate in your lap without saying another word. It was silent between you two for a moment. You decide to break the silence. 

“I’m sorry… for you know.” You quietly say and Zoro shakes his head. 

He lets out a sigh, “I.. I’m not good with words. But, don’t apologize. I freaked out. I’m worried about how we’re going to be parents as pirates. It’s not safe… or going to be easy.” 

You nod your head, continuing to pick at your food. You didn’t even think about that… and he’s not wrong. 

“But I do know that I will do whatever it takes to keep you and the baby safe.” He says and your head snaps towards him. “Really?” Zoro chuckles, “don’t ever think I wouldn’t protect you. I love you (y/n).” “I love you too, Zoro.” 

Sanji: 

I honestly believe he would know before you do. And he would be over the moon about it. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sanji keeps track of your cycle and your habits. He knows that certain things might throw off your cycle and he even keeps track of that. So when he noticed that you missed your period for the month. Oh boy… he immediately got worried and got you a pregnancy test. 

“Here, I need you to take this.” Sanji says walking up to you. “Oh wow,” You say, grabbing onto the box, “whatever happened to good morning my love? Or how are you?” 

Sanji smiles, places a kiss on your forehead, “good morning. Now go take that my love.” He pushes you towards the bathroom and shuts it behind you. 

“Wow… okay.” You whisper to yourself. 

Ten minutes later, the both of you are staring down at the positive pregnancy test. “It’s sweet… but kinda creepy at the same time that you knew before me.” You break the silence. But Sanji didn’t care about your words. He was about to be a father! “Oh mi amour.” He says pulling you into a tight hug. You can feel the excitement radiating off of him. “We’re going to be parents.” “Yeah… yeah. We’re going to be parents.”

[melanchoire]

bartender(is that how you call it??) sub!hanni x soft dom! ceo gp reader🥺👉🏻👈🏻 it's been in my head for too long and i can't think of a plot 😔 i hope you do it tho

-📽

i had an idea in mind but it ended up being something else... i changed the dynamics a bit 💔

cw: riding.

going to a bar to drown your sorrows because being a CEO was a tough job and work had been shitty lately; conferences with other companies and CEOs that only gave you headaches because they were simple and empty proposals led by arrogant bosses who felt they were the center of the world, having to be patient and fake a smile with a secretary who seemed to have laziness as the predominant emotion in her body because she always did her work with little enthusiasm and somewhat incompletely, and dealing with employees who increasingly failed to meet the job requirements

like any other day where you feel this way you would do the usual thing of just going home after a long day of work and drinking on your couch means that your mind is so clouded that you don't understand a single word that the people on television are saying, buuut you needed a change of routine so much that you didn’tmind going to a local bar in the city center

bad luck for you that it just happens to be a friday night, meaning teenagers or young adults going out to parties or something simpler like hanging out with their friends, whatever the option, the place was plagued by young people who were too loud and were gradually irritating you

until a voice pulls you out of your thoughts! a pretty young girl with hair tied in a messy bun and thin-framed glasses resting on her nose. she just smiled at you and tilted her head, wiping a damp cloth over the bar and cleaning the remains of drops of alcohol that fell when preparing the previous drinks

“rough night i guess?” oh yeah! you can’t tell if she is making fun of you given the small smile tugging at her lips, but your tone was being quite honest, so you just had to cross your fingers

“you can say it…” and your usual serious and strict CEO demeanor had completely vanished, being replaced by… vulnerability? honestly, you didn’t know what caused your change of attitude. maybe it was because being able to vent to someone was something you'd been looking for for months, but you never succeeded because your family always reminded you that you were an adult and that you shouldn’t act like a baby with “basic” work-related problems, or something like your friends always minimizing your problems and making jokes about how the “rich girl” expected mommy and daddy to solve everything for her…

you end up venting to hanni?? you don’t know if she is really interested in listening to you or if she simply doesn’thave other clients to serve because her other coworkers are taking care of it while she deals with your drunk ass… whatever the option, you’re thankful that she is a good listener! she was even being a good advisor, not understanding much about the scope of working in an office and having a position as high as that of a CEO, but anyway, she was there for you

until there comes a point where your system clearly can’t tolerate any more alcohol and you’re practically lying in the chair, looking so messed up that at any moment your body will fall off the chair straight to the floor 😭 hanni helps you go to your car and get in; partly because she is a little embarrassed by your messy state and how you even struggled to tell her which of all the cars in the parking lot was yours, and also because her coworker minji told her to take care of your drunk ass before she kicks you out of the place herself because she didn’t want you to throw up in the bathroom right after she cleaned all the stalls!

…would you believe me if i told you that you don’t remember exactly how you went from hanni helping you out of the bar to her riding your cock in the backseat of your car? i mean–! it’s not your fault that alcohol impairs your memory because it’s a central nervous system depressant that slows down brain activity! giving you blackouts, which are gaps in your memory of events that occurred while you were intoxicated, and boy were you drunk! aol you remembered at this point was leaving work, blinking, and suddenly getting so drunk and BOOM a cute girl was riding you…

awww and your head is spinning so much that you can barely lay your head against the headrest of the seat and keep it there without feeling like it’s weighing you down 😭 luckily hanni notices this and comes to the rescue! bringing her hands to your head, holding your face between her palms and running a hand through your hair to brush the loose strands away from your face 🥺 you were looking at her from below with eyes squinted from tiredness and clouded by alcohol, giving hanni a needy look as she rode you in a way that took you out of your boss bitch role and made you whimper for her

you barely mustering up enough strength to try and make a move, pushing yourself off your seat and leaning forward a little to try and kiss her, only for her to place one of her hands over your mouth and push you back against the seats again, saying “owww nooo you have alcohol on your breath.” 💔 but when she sees that you want to complain about her words, she silences you by giving you a sweet kiss on the cheek, adding "fifteen more minutes and my shift will be over. then you will take me home with you, right?” and never before have you nodded with that enthusiasm!

[lanaroff]

House of Broken Hearts- Chapter 7

Paring: Wanda Maximoff and Reader

The soft glow of morning filtered through the curtains, casting golden streaks across the room. You blinked slowly, your body heavy with exhaustion, but something warm and familiar anchored you in place.

Wanda.

You didn’t know how you ended up there. Sure you remember seeking for Wanda’s comfort after the events of the night before. But you didn’t recall, and never assume, that you would end up in bed with Wanda.

She lay beside you, still lost in sleep, her face relaxed in a way you hadn’t seen in years. Her breath came slow and steady, her lashes resting against her cheeks.

For a moment, you didn’t move.

You just watched her.

It was muscle memory, the way your body recognized Wanda’s warmth, the way waking up next to her felt like a life you once had—one that had slipped through your fingers.

And for a moment you let yourself remember the old days, when waking up next to her was as normal as breathing. You remember how much you loved wrapping your arms around her. How the whole world disappear when you two snuggle in bed laughing together, stealing kisses and saying sweet nothings to each other.

You weren’t sure how long you lay there, staring at Wanda, memorizing the way the early light made her look almost ethereal.

Then, without waking, Wanda shifted, instinctively seeking out for you in her sleep. She wrapped her arms around you, pulling you close with a sleepy sigh.

Your throat tightened.

Slowly, Wanda started to stir. Her fingers curled against your side, her breathing changed, and then, she blinked her eyes open.

“Y/N…” Her voice was thick with sleep, but there was something else in it, too. Something raw.

You hesitated for just a second before pulling her close, pressing Wanda’s head against your chest.

“I don’t know if I should,” you murmured, voice barely above a whisper, “but I missed this so much.”

Wanda let out a shaky breath, her hands gripping your shirt tightly. Her body started to tremble, soft sniffling filling the quiet space between them.

“I can’t lose you again,” Wanda whispered, her voice breaking. “I don’t care what happened, I don’t care what you did, I just—I can’t lose you.”

You shut your eyes, inhaling sharply.

Wanda pulled back slightly, looking up at you, eyes glossy with unshed tears. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. You hesitated, but Wanda’s gaze held you, steady and patient.

“I didn’t think I deserved to,” you admitted finally. “Didn’t think I deserved you.”

Wanda’s brows furrowed, and you felt the need to keep going before the words got stuck in your throat.

“I—” You exhaled shakily. “Hydra made me do it, Wanda. I thought I was just eliminating a target. I followed orders like I had been trained to, like I had done a thousand times before. But then I found out who she was.”

Wanda’s breath hitched, but she didn’t interrupt.

“She was Fury’s daughter.” You let out a bitter, broken laugh. “And I didn’t even know. Not until I saw the aftermath. Not until I realized exactly what they made me do.”

The words felt like poison spilling from your lips.

“I wanted to go back to you. I almost did.” You inhaled sharply. “But I couldn’t, Wanda. Because I deserved everything that happened after. I deserved to lose you, I deserved to suffer. I told myself you were better off without me, that you would move on, that you’d find happiness without—”

You broke off, your voice cracking under the weight of it all.

Wanda was silent for a moment, just looking at you, like she was seeing all the shattered pieces you had been trying so hard to keep together.

Then, her expression softened.

She reached up, cupping your face with both hands. “You didn’t deserve any of that.”

You tried to look away, but Wanda wouldn’t let you.

“You were forced to do that,” she said, voice firm. “You were manipulated and used, just like Hydra has done to so many people before you.”

You shook your head. “But it doesn’t change what I did.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Wanda admitted, eyes filling with something deep and raw. “But it also doesn’t mean you deserved to be alone.”

“When you didn’t came back to me I thought you had died. I really believe it, because I thought that everything was perfect . And in my head there was no reason for you to decide not to come back.” Wanda continued. You just lay there and listen carefully knowing she was opening her heart to you.

“But now, I see how wrong I was. How blind I was. I don’t judge you Y/N. How could I? You were just trying to survive, and I’m sorry I failed to see it.” She said as she caressed your face.

That was it.

The breaking point.

Without warning, your chest caved in. The weight of it all, the sleepless nights, the loneliness, the constant ache—it crashed over you, and you couldn’t hold it back anymore.

You started crying.

Not the silent kind. But the kind that shook your entire body, that made it impossible to breathe, that cracked something deep inside you.

“I’m so tired, Wanda,” you choked out. “I just—I miss you so much. I just want to stop feeling like this. I just want everything to be normal again.”

Wanda didn’t hesitate.

She wrapped her arms around you completely, pulling you close, whispering softly against your hair.

“It’s okay,” she murmured. “I’ve got you.”

You sobbed into her shoulder, clinging to her like she was the only thing keeping you from falling apart completely.

Wanda held you, running her fingers through your hair, pressing soft kisses against your temple.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” she promised, voice fierce through the softness. “I don’t care what it takes. You’re mine, Y/N. And I’m not letting you go.”

You didn’t say anything.

She just held onto you.

For the first time in years, you didn’t feel alone.

⸻

After getting ready for the day, you took a deep breath, trying to settle the weight in your chest. The conversation with Wanda had drained you, but there was still one more thing you needed to do.

You needed to talk to Natasha.

You had avoided it long enough. Natasha had been kept in the dark about so much, and you knew you owed her answers—owed her an apology.

Your feet felt heavier than they should as you made your way to Natasha’s room. You hesitated only for a second before knocking.

A few seconds passed before the door swung open, revealing a surprised Natasha.

You barely had time to register the look on her face before Natasha’s eyes narrowed slightly. “You’re still here?”

You frowned. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

Natasha crossed her arms, leaning against the doorframe. “I checked your room last night. You weren’t there, so I assumed you left on another one of your missions.”

Guilt twisted in your stomach. Of course, Natasha would think that. That was all you had done for years—run off without a word, disappear without a trace.

“Can I come in?” You asked.

Natasha hesitated for only a second before stepping aside. You walked in, letting the familiar space settle around you. You had spent countless nights in this room, talking about everything and nothing with the one person who always had your back.

And now, you were here to fix what you had broken.

Natasha sat down on the edge of the bed, watching you carefully. “Alright. Let’s hear it.”

You exhaled slowly. “I should’ve told you everything a long time ago. I should’ve—” You ran a hand through your hair, trying to gather your thoughts. “I’m sorry, Nat. For shutting you out. For leaving. For everything.”

Natasha’s expression softened, but her voice remained firm. “Why didn’t you tell me? Out of all people, I would’ve understood.”

You clenched your jaw. You had known this question was coming, but that didn’t make it any easier to answer.

“That’s exactly why,” you admitted. “I didn’t want you to understand.”

Natasha blinked, her brows pulling together.

“I didn’t want anyone to justify what I did. I didn’t want sympathy, or forgiveness, or understanding. I wanted to suffer. I deserved to suffer.” Your voice cracked slightly, but you forced herself to keep going. “That’s why I didn’t say anything, Nat. That’s why I left. Because I couldn’t let you—or anyone else—make me feel like I wasn’t the monster I had become.”

Silence settled between them.

Then, Natasha shook her head. “You’re an idiot.”

You huffed out something close to a laugh. “Yeah. I know.”

A beat passed before Natasha reached over, squeezing your hand. “You don’t deserve to suffer, Y/N. And you’re not a monster. You did what you had to do to survive. I get it.”

You felt something loosen in your chest at those words.

You nodded slowly. “I’m ready to have my best friend back. If—if you still want that.”

Natasha rolled her eyes, a small smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. “You really think you can get rid of me that easily?”

Relief flooded you s a genuine smile broke across your face. “God, I missed you.”

Natasha grinned. “Missed you too.”

For the first time in years, things felt right between you two.

But before you could get too sentimental, you cleared your throat. “One thing, though.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow. “Oh boy, here we go.”

“I need you to stay out of the whole Fury situation.”

Natasha’s expression darkened slightly. “Y/N—”

“I mean it.” You held your gaze. “I know you want to help, but I need to handle this on my own.”

Natasha exhaled through her nose, clearly fighting the urge to argue. But after a moment, she nodded. “Fine. I’ll stay out of it.”

You smirked. “Good girl.”

Natasha rolled her eyes. “Don’t push it.”

And just like that, both of you slipped back into the easy rhythm you had always had. You cracked a few more jokes, teasing each other like old times, and for a little while, it almost felt like the years of distance had never happened.

Almost.

But for now, it was enough.

Tag list: @seventeen-x @womenarehotsstuff @redhoodte @ayrtonwilbury @justyourwritter69 @casquinhaa @womenarehotsstuff @justarandomreaderxoxo @yelldontwhisper @raven-ss @chickenlittlsblog @username23345 @justyourwritter69 @ayrtonwilbury

[crazy4okkotsu]

Pairing: you & rin itoshi being first time parents.

CW: fluff , crack? , use of y/n , baby puke mentioned & NOT proofread.

WC: 434

i guess this is kinda filler? me and @700bussin are kinda going through writers block… (requests would be appreciated) anywho tho, this was all me 😻. pls don’t hate it.

having a baby was hard, obviously.

and you were experiencing that firsthand, but that doesn’t mean rin was far behind either. going into labor sucked for the both of you. you were in pain, and he was forced to sit and watch you endure it…that doesn’t mean he didn’t attempt to make you feel better though.

rin tried offering you a bottle of water but unfortunately his timing was…a little off.

there was a little tap on your shoulder,“y/n.”

you were busy breathing and trying to soothe the immense pain you were feeling, so responding wasn’t exactly the most important thing on your mind.

“do you…want some water-“

“can you go sit the hell down, please?!”

he paused at your tone, reminding himself that you were going through a lot. shuffling back to his seat, he mumbled under his breath but didn’t dare make that know to you.

and even after bringing your little girl home, things were still slightly chaotic…she had been changed and fed, all the works, yet she was still whining in his arms.

“it’s like she won’t completely calm down, what am i supposed to do?”

“you need to burp her, rin.”

“…right.” he adjusted his position and began lightly patting the baby’s back.

rin felt pretty proud of himself when he heard her tiny burps, lifting her up to his face to examine her tiny expression.

“wow, you did good-” your congratulations was cut off by the sound of gurgling.

he inched her away from his face.

“is that supposed to happen-” his sentence died in his throat as he felt something warm oozing down his shirt.

it was so silent you could hear a pin drop.

you had to stifle your laughter, “rin…?” he slowly stood from the couch, the baby still outstretched infront of him.he took a couple long seconds to compose himself, his eyes closed in an attempt to wish the current situation away. but in the end it was still reality.

“…she threw up on me.”

the weight of it all was too much and the cackle you were holding back finally broke free, it was a good 30 seconds before anyone made any moves.

“i’m gonna go take shower.”he trudged over, handing the now calm baby over to you. “you go do that.” you replied, remnants of laughter in your tone.

even though he had a baby throw up on him, it was his baby, and as he stood under the flowing water he couldn’t help but think, with as messy as it was, this is exactly where he belonged.

[glamourscat]

Can you maybe do a Shidou x Single mom reader? Shidou moved into a new apartment building because he got kicked out of the last one for being too loud or something alike, and his nextdoor apartment neighbor is a young single mom he greets sometimes, and she ends up asking him to babysit her toddler once because no one was able to take care of it at the moment and she was late to work. In the end the kid is obsessed with him and doesn't want to leave at first, but reluctantly accepts once they promise him/her they can play again.

Idk if that's a weird request or anything, but i think it would be cute. The kid can be a girl or boy, whichever you choose.💐

WHATEVER THAT MEANS | SHIDOU RYUSEI X READER (TIME SKIP)

so, i slightly changed it around, bc i found it hard to write for a mother who left her kid w someone who she barely knew :'( i made them on friendly base, so not super close but friendly enough for the reader to trust shidou into taking care of her daughter. I hope you like the fic either way, and i'm sorry for the little adjustment!

Loud. Inadequate. Noisy. Just a few adjectives his old apartment complex neighbors would use to describe him. And it’s not like they were necessarily wrong… but can’t a guy have hobbies? What’s the big deal if he wants to shout off his balcony in the morning as stress relief? Or sunbathe naked? It’s his house, after all.

But apparently, they didn’t see it that way. And so, embarrassingly enough, he got evicted. Football season was about to come to an end, which meant more days spent indoors, especially with the scorching summer temperatures in Japan.

It’s been over seven months since he met you. And he still couldn’t quite figure you out.

The first time you two met, you threw a shoe at him. The second time, you apologized for the shoe but still got into a screaming match over who stole whose package. The third time, it was a rainy night. He was restless.TV, phone, laptop, nothing could quiet his head. His eyes drifted to the window, and before he knew it, he was grabbing his jacket and shoes, heading out for a walk.

He didn’t even realize how far he’d gone until he found himself near the striking lights of the town center. He was about to turn back when he saw you. Standing there, soaked through, outside some cheap ass restaurant. His first instinct was to tease you, but then he took in your face.

Sorrow. Embarrassment. Pain.

And he didn’t have it in him.

You turned to leave before he could even step closer.

“Wait, damn it—”

“Don’t.” Your voice was quiet but firm as he reached out, catching your wrist.

“I don’t—I’m not in the mood tonight.”

“I wasn’t going to,” Shidou huffed, shrugging off his jacket and draping it over your shoulders.

“You’re drenched. C’mon. Let’s go back.” His voice was strangely calm. Just like that he led you home.

That night, seven months ago, he learned about you. Your life. That you, at 26, the same age as him, had a three-year-old daughter. That the father was more absent than his own had ever been.

He doesn’t know exactly when the shift happened. When throwing shoes turned into spending late nights at each other’s places, talking until 1 a.m. and laughing over things that didn’t even matter. Maybe it was the vulnerability of that very first night you two talked. Or maybe it was realizing that, despite everything, you two weren’t so different. He just… expressed things more loudly.

And maybe that’s why, on his day off, he’s here. Babysitting your kid. A round, giggling toddler sitting cross legged in his lap, applying makeup to his face with the concentration of a professional artist. She’s rambling, some absurd story about nursery school that he’s pretty sure she’s making up as she goes.

God, he has no idea what he’s doing.

There’s pink sparkling eyeshadow smudged across his eyelids, uneven swipes of glitter on his cheeks and something sticky in his hair that he’s choosing to ignore.

“You look like a princess,” she announces proudly, clapping her hands together.

Shidou snorts. “Yeah? A hot one?”

The toddler tilts her head, considering. “Mmm… a silly one.” She exclaims with her hands thrown in the air as to emphasise her claim. 

He grins, flashing his teeth. “Same thing, nugget.”

As you walk through the door your eyes fix on the scene. You don’t know where to either laugh or to be worried for Shidou’s safety. Surely that many hairpins in his hair cannot be good for blood circulation, right? 

His eyes meet yours as he flashes you a stupid grin of his. He doesn’t know how it happened, how he got here. But he knows it feels good. It feels good to be wanted. And your kid, for whatever reason, is obsessed with him.

Which is a problem, when you move closer to pick her up and she immediately buries her face into his shoulder, clinging and gripping him like he’s the last cookie in the cookie jar that someone is also trying to take. 

“Nooooo,” she yells dramatically. “I wanna stay with Ryusei!”

“Kid, I’m flattered,” he says, patting her back, “but your mom will kill me if you don't go take your bath.”

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Sweetheart, you need to bathe. And eat dinner.”

“Ryusei can do it!”

Shidou chokes on a laugh and you shoot him a glare, but your daughter isn’t paying attention, she’s too busy gripping his shirt. Kicking her feet annoyed at the injustice of it all.

It reminds him a little of himself. That fierce, stubborn kind of love. The kind that grabs on tight and refuses to let go. She’s a kid, but he can feel that she’s smart enough to understand this feeling. So he tugs her away just enough to look her in the eye, his voice quieter now.

“Hey. What if I promise to come back?”

Her lip wobbles. “You swear?”

“Cross my heart.” He does the motion across his chest, then taps her nose. “I’ll come play again. You can even make me a clown next time.”

The toddler sniffs. “Princess clown.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever the boss wants.”

She hesitates, then, slowly and reluctantly, she lets you take her into your arms. But her eyes stay locked on him, watching as if she’s trying to make sure he doesn’t disappear the second she looks away.

Shidou leans back, resting his head against the couch. And, because he knows she’s waiting, he throws her a lazy salute.

“Later, nugget.”

She sniffles again. “Bye-bye, Ryusei.”

And just like that, she’s gone, carried off into the other room.

The apartment is quieter now, the warmth of her weight still lingering on his skin. He exhales, stretching his arms over his head and catches you watching him as you pop back in the living room. 

“You didn’t have to promise,” you say, voice softer than usual.

Shidou hums. “Nah. I wanted to.”

A moment of silence goes by. 

“You’re good with her.”

He smirks. “You sound surprised.”

You shake your head, but you’re smiling. “Just… didn’t expect it.”

Shidou shrugs, leaning his head back again. He doesn’t know how to explain it. Doesn’t know if he even needs to. It’s just that love, in all its forms, has never come easy to him. It’s always been messy. Complicated.

But this? This feels simple. So yeah. He’ll come back. He will still pretend to huff and think twice before accepting. He will still tease you restless as per usual. But he will let your daughter cover him in glitter and tell him ridiculous stories and call him silly names. Because it’s easy. Because it’s warm. Because it feels good to be like this. 

Whatever that means. 

© GLAMOURSCAT (all rights reserved. do not share, modify, translate and re-upload my work outside of tumblr)

[nowimjustastranger]

stcmo ford saving a stanley who’s fate was originally getting kidnapped during the ‘extra stan three dollars or better offer’ incident

Stan adjusted his grip on the hastily made sign with a full-body shiver, his fingers numb from the cold. He’d been out here for what felt like forever, shoulders hunched as he avoided eye contact with the people that passed him. He could feel their stares on him like a physical weight, their gazes either judging or pitying. It made him bristle, the frown that he had aimed at his ratty shoes shifting into a glare.

Another gust of wind had him hunching in on himself, squeezing his eyes shut and thinking warm thoughts. Like how hot and steamy his bath was gonna be once he got back inside. Like how toasty and comfortable he was gonna be bundled up in blankets. Like how cozy and content he’d be with Ford snuggled up beside him. But all that would only happen after his punishment was over.

He just had to tough it out.

“You alright, kiddo?” A voice asked and Stan’s eyes snapped open as he startled, staring up at the stranger who had stopped right in front of him with wide eyes. It was an older guy, though not as old as Pa. He had a concerned expression plastered onto his face, but Stan shuffled back a step or two even if he couldn’t put his finger on what exactly he didn’t like about the man.

“I’m fine.” Stan huffed, feeling the sudden and overpowering need to hide the sign behind his back when the man’s eyes flicked down to it. There was… something in the stranger’s keen eyes that had Stan’s insides squirming unpleasantly, some shift that Stan couldn’t pinpoint even if you held a bag of toffee peanuts over his head and told him to put it into words.

“You sure? You look cold.” The man said slowly, those unnerving eyes of his roaming over Stan’s body from head to toe. Stan tried not to make a face and, when he shivered again, it wasn’t just from the cold. “There’s a vendor selling hot drinks just down that way, I’d be more than happy to buy one for you so you can warm up a bit.”

Now, Stan might’ve been tempted if the guy hadn’t pointed in the wrong direction. Stan knew where the vendor was, the nice lady served hot apple cider on Fridays during the colder months. She always gave Stan and Ford a free cup so long as they paid for one. The man had gestured toward the quieter –and creepier– end of the boardwalk.

He heard that bad things happened to people who went there.

“I’m fine.” Stan repeated, making sure his voice was firm and a little mean so the guy could take the hint and move along. Sadly, the man seemed undeterred. Stan didn’t know why the stranger wanted Stan to go with him so badly; it wasn’t like he was lost or anything. There was no reason to be wandering off with some guy who didn’t even know where the nice vendor lady was.

“C’mon, it’s not that far. I promise.” The man insisted, his eyes sweeping over their surroundings in a searching manner. Stan looked around too, wondering what the stranger was searching for exactly. He didn’t see anything that stood out. In fact, other than Stan and the dude who couldn’t seem to take no for an answer, the boardwalk was completely barren–

Stan lost his grip on the stupid sign with a yelp when a large hand practically engulfed his arm, dragging him toward the man. It took him a long moment to process that the stranger had been the one to grab him, the stranger letting go of him just long enough to wind his other arm around Stan’s torso to pin his arms to his sides before picking him up.

“Hey–” Stan barked only for a hand to clamp over the lower half of his face to muffle his yelling, panic surging through him as he thrashed and kicked in the man’s hold. It was useless though, the hand crushing his nose and covering his mouth made it hard to breathe, his head swimming as his struggles weakened. First things first, get the damn thing off his face.

Stan jerked his head to the side fast enough that the man couldn’t react, sinking his teeth into the stranger’s wrist until the taste of pennies filled his mouth. The stranger howled in pain as his grip loosened enough for Stan to get an arm free, blindly swinging at the man’s face. His fist connected with what felt like a jaw and the guy practically threw him down, Stan hitting the ground with a cry when he landed funny.

Stan ignored his throbbing knee and scrambled to his feet to bolt, hearing the man give chase with a curse. He just had to make it home, then he’d be safe. However, his body had other ideas, his knee buckling with his next step and sending him sprawling. Stan was only able to push himself up onto his hands and knees before the back of his shirt was seized, pulling the collar tight across his throat.

Stan's eyes watered as he reared back in an attempt to relieve the pressure, each breath a painful wheeze. It seemed to work too because his shirt suddenly went slack, sending Stan into a coughing fit as he collapsed forward. He braced on his forearms as his body heaved, fighting against the harsh throb in his neck in order to catch his breath.

But, when he wasn’t grabbed again, he slowly turned his head to peek over his shoulder.

There was… another guy absolutely whaling on the creep, the cool black and red helmet splattered with blood. The creep took a blow to the jaw, right over where Stan had hit him earlier, and went down with a choked sound of pain. Helmet guy stepped forward menacingly, the creep shrouded in shadow as the helmet guy loomed over him.

Stan shifted into a sitting position and whimpered when the ache in his knee flared up, freezing when the helmet guy’s head turned so fast that Stan wondered if the man had just given himself whiplash. Stan stared at the dark visor, trembling uncontrollably. The boardwalk had been empty, the alleyway only a few feet away. If the helmet man hadn’t came to the rescue… he would've been–

Stan’s breath hitched in warning before the tears came, welling up in his eyes until they spilled down his flushed cheeks. Stan sobbed, wrapping his arms around himself in a pathetic attempt at self-comfort. Stan wanted Ford, wanted to hide in his brother’s embrace where no one could touch him. Hurt him. Take him. He wanted his brother, who made everything better.

“You’re okay, sweetheart. You’re safe now.” A low and pleasant voice murmured, a blurry figure crouching down in front of him. Stan blinked a few times to clear his vision, struck by how similar the man looked to Pa. Not exactly the same, but close enough for it to be uncanny. Stan glanced at where the creep had been laying, eyes widening when he saw that the bastard was nowhere to be seen.

“Wh– what? Where…” Stan stammered between sniffles, shakily pointing at the creep-less spot on the ground. The guy’s brows furrowed as his dark eyes followed his finger, the tension visibly draining from his face when his gaze found the empty, blood-splattered ground. The man aimed a small but genuine smile at Stan, rendering him speechless and feeling oddly reassured.

If this guy wasn’t worried about the creep, why should Stan be?

“Don’t worry, my friend has it handled. You just focus on taking deep breaths.” The guy hummed, his hand reaching into his coat for a brief moment before retreating with a vibrant red car. Stan perked up when the man offered it to him, gently putting it into his eager hands. Stan examined it, splitting his attention between the toy and the man, who was steadily inching closer.

Stan looked at the guy when large hands tenderly settled on his throbbing knee, carefully prodding at the joint. When Stan winced, the tentative pressure let up immediately, the man’s hands then moving to Stan’s wrist to scrutinize the bruise that was starting to form. When the man’s eyes darted to Stan’s neck, he stiffened and shrunk back a little.

“If you bear with me for no longer than a minute, I’ll give you another toy.” The man stated with a tilt of his head, his hand disappearing back into his coat and returning with a colorful cube; each side was a different color and had even smaller squares that looked like they could move. Stan had never seen anything like it before, but he knew with a bone deep surety that Ford would love it.

“… ’kay.” Stan grumbled with a hesitant nod, repressing the urge to fidget in favor of keeping as still as possible. His mouth tightened into a nervous white line when the man’s hand drew closer to his sore neck, calloused fingers delicately brushing against the irritated skin. Stan counted in his head, restlessly fiddling with the toy car as he waited for it to be over.

“You’ve been very brave, good job.” The guy praised warmly, handing the cube to Stan, who absentmindedly accepted his reward with a dumbfounded expression. He was further thrown for a loop when the man tenderly wiped away the last of his tears with rough hands that had no right being so effortlessly gentle.

Stan felt small and fragile under the man’s careful touch, but for the first time in his life he didn’t hate it.

[dewitty1]

Carey ‘W’Recs Wednesday(｡•̀ᴗ-)✧ presents:

More than Ruin'd Hopes shall Mourn. by jamie2109

Excerpt:

'Rumour has it that Potter and his girlfriend are on the verge of a break up,' Blaise said quietly so that Draco's mother and Pansy, who were chatting over table placements, could not hear.

'Oh, and where did you hear this juicy piece of gossip?' Draco asked.

'I heard them arguing in a shop this afternoon. Very loudly and about you.' Blaise gave Draco a knowing smirk. 'You kissed Potter.'

Draco started and then glared at Blaise. 'Was that a question or an accusation?'

'I'd say that response only confirms what I heard in Gladrags.'

Blaise was infuriating when he had that 'I know your secret, so there,' smirk. Much as Draco loved him as a friend, it also made him want to smack that look right off his face.

'Just tell me what happened, Blaise,' Draco insisted.

'Then you have to tell me what snogging Potter was like,' Blaise argued.

Growling, Draco agreed, ignoring the triumphant look that shot across Blaise's face. It was a small price to pay to discover the situation between Potter and the ginger bits.

'Well, I don’t know what they were arguing about exactly,' Blaise started, and Draco groaned thinking there was no substance to what Blaise claimed after all. 'Potter cast a Silencing charm but as any good Slytherin worth the name knows how to lip read, I could understand most of what they were saying.'

'Well…?' Draco pressed impatiently.

'Apparently, Miss Ginevra Weasley thinks that her hero Golden boy is cheating on her with you. She insists that as Potter spends all his time here, there is something more than common gratitude driving it. She claims that Potter could easily assign more guards to you if he really wanted and, because of his name, could twist the Head Auror around his little finger and wriggle out of having to guard you twenty-four hours a day.'

This was gold, Draco thought, and almost exactly how he'd hoped their relationship would slide. Trust the ginger bits to completely overlook the fact that Potter was being guarded as much as he was guarding Draco. If memory served him correctly, Robards had said Draco and Potter were easier to guard if they were together. Draco wondered then, amused, if Potter had conveniently forgotten to inform the ginger bits of this fact. Draco's anger at Potter's absence almost completely evaporated. 'What did Potter have to say about that?'

'He was angry. I have no idea what you did to him, but he said something scathing that made Weasley go pale. That was when she launched into the cheating diatribe.'

'Potter admitted to cheating?' Not that he had really, Draco had been the one to initiate the kiss, but Potter's self righteousness would insist that he'd cheated anyway. Especially as for a second he'd kissed back. It was definitely time to exert some more pressure on Potter, drive that wedge between him and the ginger bits deeper.

'No, but he flushed redder than Weasley's hair. He mostly just got angry and told her that she didn’t know him very well if she expected him to use his name to get what he wanted. She didn't like that, that's for sure, shouting that she was entitled to expect he use every ounce of influence he had so his girlfriend got to see him once in a while.'

Draco laughed. It was too perfect. Potter thought himself above using his name to get him what he wanted, did he? If he did, then it was only because people fell all over themselves to make sure Potter had what he wanted before he thought to ask for it.

'Potter calmed down then a little and tried to make nice by telling her they had the party that night to look forward to being together and they should make the most of it instead of arguing. She agreed but, Draco, she is not happy.'

'It sounds like it. I bet she's not pleased that she and the rest of Potter's hangers on have been shoved aside out of the spotlight now they prefer me.'

Blaise laughed. 'You could be right. Even I get more attention from the media these days than that lot of Gryffindors do.'

That gave Draco an idea. 'Blaise, best friend, how would you feel about doing something about that attraction you had for the ginger bits back in school?'

'You're attempting to break the Golden couple up?'

'With as much publicity as possible.'

'What about the bloke I'm seeing?'

Draco raised an eyebrow. 'Seeing as you don’t care enough to even tell us his name, he can’t be that important to you. Will you really miss him?'

'Point.' Blaise considered for a moment. 'Draco, that's devious,' he said. Then he smirked. 'You really do want Potter, don’t you?'

Draco gave him a long stare. 'Only long enough to make the fool fall for me so I can teach him what it feels like to be rejected and dumped.'

Blaise shook his head. 'Is that worth all the trouble it will cause?'

Draco nodded. He hadn’t told Blaise about everything, and he wasn't going to. He loved Blaise, but he trusted Pansy with his life. Having Potter right where he wanted was worth more than just about anything to him and definitely worth any trouble it took to get him there.

'Then I'll do it. Might be nice to find out if the collars and cuffs match.'

Draco's grimaced. 'I really don’t want to know that, thanks.'

'All right,' Blaise gave in, grinning. 'Now, tell me about snogging Potter.'

'It was an accident. He was being an arse about having the night off and I just kissed him to shut him up.'

Blaise laughed. 'I thought you were more organised than 'an accident', Draco.'

'Oh, shut up and go and lure the ginger bits away from my Potter,' Draco shot back, disgruntled because Blaise was right; he generally went about his seduction with a lot more finesse than how he'd been handling Potter. Damn, but Potter always did manage to stuff up his plans.

'You do realise you just said 'my Potter', don’t you?' Blaise snickered.

Draco merely glared at Blaise until he relented and left.

More than Ruin’d Hopes shall Mourn.

jamie2109

Chapters: 21/21 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Additional Tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Explicit Language, Sexual Content Summary:

Draco wasn’t entirely positive when he’d come to the awful conclusion that Potter had something tangible that made people love him. However, he was sure of the exact moment he realised he coveted that love enough to do something about it.

Excerpt:

‘Mr. Malfoy, how does it feel to be a hero?’

‘Who, me?’ Draco pretended shock. ‘I’m no hero. I just happened to be in the right place at the right time.’

‘No one else jumped in front of the curse. Just you. How can you explain that?’

Draco frowned as if thinking. ‘Perhaps their reflexes weren’t as good as mine. It did happen very quickly.’

‘Can you tell us in your own words what happened?’

‘It all happened so fast.’ Draco really had no idea what had happened at all but he appeared to think about it. ‘One minute I was among the crowd, making my way to Fortescue’s for ice cream and the next I heard a noise. Without even thinking about it, I found myself over the barrier.’ And that wasn’t even a lie,Draco thought, greatly amused.

‘It was an extremely brave thing to do, Mr. Malfoy,’ one female reporter said, simpering. ‘Can you tell my readers why you did it?’

No. Absolutely no fucking idea, darling, Draco thought, and if I’d had a choice about it, I’d have never done it. Instead, Draco smiled awkwardly and dropped his eyes. ‘There was no way I could stand by and watch the Golden boy hurt by some disaffected wizard,’ he said softly.

He risked a glance at Potter, who’d been sitting quietly in the corner the whole time, half expecting to see Potter angry and on the verge of disputing his version of the story. Strangely, Potter didn’t look like that at all. Instead he had awed gratitude on his face. It was enough to make Draco blink several times in shock.

After several more questions, which Draco answered modestly, just making the reporters want to call him a hero even more, Draco claimed tiredness and had Potter remove them from his room.

He was actually tired and ached terribly. He had Potter hunt down a Healer and get him some more potion for the pain. Once he’d been examined by the Healer and told he’d need to stay overnight, he settled down for a nap.

‘You going to sit there and watch me sleep, then?’ Draco looked at Potter seated in the corner and smirked.

‘I have to. They still haven’t caught whoever aimed that curse at me and they think that whoever it was might now be after you for interfering.’

Draco frowned. Actual danger was unexpected. ‘Fine, then. You can stay.’

‘I was going to.’

‘Good. Now shut up and let me sleep.’

‘Prat.’ He sounded fond, which annoyed Draco. Potter had no right to familiarity.

‘I’m the bloody prat who took a curse for you, Potter, so kindly shut up. “

[that-weird-thing-in-the-woods]

~{Heyyy, So a good friend of mine got a flapper costume and I got an idea so here you go!}~

•Club Owner•

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

The Waynes were going through the attic.

It had started with an off handed comment from Alfred at lunch [Which everyone was at as who would pass up Alfred’s cooking] and how Alfred wanted to go through the attic but was unable to do it himself so of course the the bats helped and a few hours of doing this Jason brought done something covered in a off white sheet to where the rest of the family was and ask Alfred if he’s ever seen this and he says no.

So the bats uncover it and are met with a large antique mirror with a gold frame and as the bats try to think about why it would be put up there as it looks and probably is very expensive but the mirror’s surface starts to change and shift like water and Tim notices it and immediately yells for everyone to get back and put the cover back on.

But it’s too late, hands come out from the mirror and grab each of the Batfam and pull them in [Alfred, Bruce, Dick,Barbara, Jason, Tim, Stephanie, Cass, Duke, Damien] and everything goes black.

The Batfam wake up to green sky’s and floating islands…and the sound of music?

The bats look to where the music is coming from and is met with a club that looks like it was taken from Gotham in the 1920s and it the bats best shot to find out where they are so they walk in and see a lot of people that look like they stepped straight out of the 1910s, 1920 like the building does and while the bats look around and try to get information without talking to anyone and hiding while in civilian clothes and the bats were doing a good job at it the only person to notice them is a woman in a white flapper dress and a silver pipe in her hand, she met eye contact with Cass but she quickly got up and ran off but that was the only one until the bats heard a growl from behind them.

And the bats are met with a very tall man in a old suit with short black hair and sharp blue eyes that tell if they don’t do what he says he’ll skin them and the very visible gun on his waist does not put the bats at ease.

“What are you doing here.” The Tall man says in a very dangerous voice that makes all of the alarm bells go off for the bats but before they could respond a voice interrupted.

“What is happening here?”

-•—••••••••••••••••—•-

•Background•

As Danny watches his Patrons drunkenly praise and encourage the Dancers as the Dancers purr and sing in delight at the attention Danny can’t help but think back to how this all came to be.

Danny had fully died years ago due to the G.I.W intervention if it wasn’t for Clockwork and his own core involvement Danny would have most definitely would have Faded (When a ghosts Fades they don’t exist anymore it’s like they ultimate death) but thankfully he was saved in time but not fast enough to save whatever part of him was still kicking around..

But that’s was years ago it has been a very long time since than as his home world has already been eaten by their sun but Danny didn’t really know how long exactly as he spent all that time with Clockwork to make sure there were no problems with his full ghost form and to tell Danny that he was the future Ancient of Protection but wouldn’t be able to claim it until much later in his ghost life as he was still a baby ghost.

So Danny was told to wait until the time comes to claim it Clockwork even told him that sleeping would make it go faster but Danny didn’t want to do that so he went exploring and that’s how he met Orson and Beatrix two other Ghost that after Danny had helped them made it so Danny was stuck with them (Not that Danny minded to much he got lonely).

Than they started to talk about how many older ghost don’t really have places to just hang out as older ghost are very overprotective of their haunts and don’t want any other ghost in there and that gave Danny a idea.

So Danny changed a part of his Lair to a Club that looks right out of the 1920s and sends Orson to see if any old ghost would like to have some fun for a change and sends Beatrix to find anyone who would like to work here and did they find people.

Danny still sometimes laughs at how it was in the beginning for his now patrons back than and somehow Beatrix found two Dancers that she knew when she was alive and the rest is history but Danny can’t stay that it makes him happy to have so many people under his protection.

But Danny was brought back to the present as Beatrix runs up to him in her new white dress with her silver pipe in hand and tells him that Orson is going to lose it at some livings that somehow got in.

Danny stands up and goes to where this is happening with Beatrix hot on his tail.

-•—••••••••••••••••—•-

•Little Facts•

•In this au an Ancient has to be at more than 10,000 years old as a ghost (that’s why new Ancients are so rare) until than they are a Pre-Ancient, In the past Pre-Ancients most often slept through the waiting period but Danny said “Fuck that!” And did this

•The patrons are VERY protective of the Dancers and Danny

•Beatrix was of course a flapper dancer she had to work as one as her husband was a asshole who refused to work and was horrible to her but one of the patrons at her old club got far to handys [Which she did NOT want] with her and that’s when her husband walked in he dragged her back to their apartment as well as leaving behind her sliver pipe as he dragged her out and when they got back to the apartment he beat the shit out of her and she ended up hitting her head on the side of the table in the room and her ghost got stuck to her pipe but she couldn’t find it until Danny got it back for her and Danny’s had her with him and Orson ever since.

•Orson was a Gotham mob bass when he was alive and a good one too [Acted like red hood] but he was betrayed by his Right-hand man [Who was his boyfriend] and was tortured by his old men and Right-hand Man before he was shot in the head by his own gun and when he died he became a Sade and was forced to relive his death over and over again until Danny found him and helped him become a proper ghost and He’s been by Danny’s side ever since.

•Orson and Beatrix think of Danny like a little sibling to protect and care and Danny thinks of them as his older siblings who he needs to make sure doesn’t commit war crimes to protect him or each other

•Clockwork acts like Danny weird uncle that has probably been to prison or will be soon

•The Patrons are very respectful of Danny because they all know he can beat all of their asses without breaking a sweat

-•—••••••••••••••••—•-

•Appearances•

Danny’s Appearance

Age [Physical] - 19

Fun Fact- Both Bea and Oz have a water and wind core respectively and they got worried about him getting cold even with his ice core so they gave them his furs, he doesn’t need them but they were given to him so he keeps them and always uses them.

Orson’s Appearance

•Nickname- Oz

•Age [Physical] -28

•Fun Fact - He hates it when livings somehow find a way into the club and often scares them off and if not he just gives them to one of the more meat lovers of the patrons.

Beatrix Appearance

Nickname - Bea

Age [Physical] - 19 (she got married very young)

Fun Fact - All of the dresses and accessories she has were given to her by Oz as his love language is gift giving.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

~{And that’s it! Hope you gremlins like this and until next time byeeeee}~

[enchantresss97]

Wicked Ties-Chapter One

Characters: Roman Godfrey(Slightly AU Roman is not in high school anymore, the action happens in present times) x Reader

Description: When Roman Godfrey comes seeking your help, you greet him with a blade to his throat. Witches and upirs have been enemies for centuries, and their own past is stained with betrayal. But with danger closing in and his hunger spiraling out of control, you are the only one who can save him. Bound by need, torn by desire that threatens to consume both of you, your wicked ties may destroy you both.

Warnings: dark themes, magic, witches, upirs/vampires, blood, death, SMUT, sex (most of the types).

Word count: 4158

A/N: This will be three chapters story, I really hope you will enjoy it. Happy reading! ❤️

Roman Godfrey was a lot of things but never a fool. He should have known better than to trust a witch.

But desperation had driven him to her. The hunger was getting worse, his control slipping. He was running out of ways to stop himself from tearing through flesh and draining every last drop of blood from the people around him.

Dr. Pryce had been his last hope. If anyone could have found a way to fix him, it should have been him. He had watched Pryce lie to him, experiment on him, twist his life into something unnatural. The man had promised control but had only made things worse unleashing his power. It was because of him that Roman had become this. A monster driven by hunger, barely able to hold himself together.

So, Roman had torn his throat out. Slowly. Deliberately. Let the man feel, just for a moment, what it was like to be powerless under something stronger.

Killing him didn’t change anything. It didn’t make the hunger disappear, didn’t make the need any less unbearable. It just meant he was out of options. Through out the year he tried to find many ways to escape this nightmare. Sure, he enjoyed the power who came with this, a little too much actually but not being able to control the hunger was the only reason couldn’t let it go the idea of a cure.

So, he turned to something older, something darker.

The witch had promised answers. She had let him believe she had the knowledge to fix whatever was inside him. Instead, she played him for a fool.

She was ancient, a powerful force feared even among the Sabat. Her knowledge and strength were unmatched, her reputation etched into the hearts of every witch who dared to cross her path.

But Roman hadn’t cared about any of that when he stood before her, rage burning in his veins.

She had made him believe she could help him. She had let him think that she could fix the monster he had become. The Sabat revered her, she had led them, taught them, and shaped them into what they were and the coven trusted her implicitly. She had seen centuries pass, seen the rise and fall of many so yeah, he had fallen for it, just as he had fallen for every other promise of salvation all these years. But when he finally understood that she had been playing him from the start he snapped.

In a fit of fury, Roman had killed her. There had been no warning, no calculated move. Just pure, raw rage. Her laugh still echoed in his mind, mocking, cruel, dismissive. She had thought herself untouchable. But Roman was done being a puppet, done letting anyone control him. So, he had torn her apart, ending her life in a moment of overwhelming fury.

And since a bad thing never comes alone, of course he knows that the witches would never forgive him for it. She had been too important, too powerful to be disposed of like that. Her death would send ripples through the coven. They would come for him. He needs to be one step ahead.

And that left him with only one choice:

Now, he stood at your door. The only person who could help him. The thing was, you weren’t exactly on good terms.

You hadn’t been since high school, before either of you knew what you truly were. Back then, Roman had been just a boy, and you, a girl with the world ahead of her. But everything changed the moment you both found out the truth. The truth that tore you apart.

What you had back then was innocent, sweet even and that’s rich coming from an spoiled brat like Roman. But then you found out about each other, the power dynamics shifted. You learned what you were, and so did he. And as it always went with your kind, the attraction was undeniable, but so were the consequences. Your relationship had ended badly. Too much power, too much darkness, too many things left unsaid.

Now, Roman stood on your doorstep, desperate for your help, he hesitated only for a moment before knocking on the heavy wooden door. The night air was thick around him, the scent of damp earth and smoke lingering. He knew you were there, he could feel it. A moment later, the door creaked open, revealing your silhouette against the dim glow of candlelight. You didn’t look surprised, just annoyed.

But neither of you spoke. You stood there, frozen in place, just staring at each other. Even though you knew he was coming, the sight of him still knocked the breath from your lungs. He looked…different…older, rougher. His eyes were darker, haunted, but his presence was still overwhelming, suffocating even. And despite how much you hated it, your heart ached at the sight of him.

Roman didn’t fare much better. He had prepared himself for this, convinced himself that seeing you again wouldn’t mean anything after all these years. But now that you were standing in front of him, the memories hit him like a punch to the gut. You looked the same. Still had that fire in your eyes, that confidence that made his blood rush and his heart race. Yet there was something colder about you, something guarded, and he couldn’t help but wonder if it was because of him.

He swallowed, a smirk slowly creeping onto his lips to mask the sting of nostalgia. “Long time no see,” he said, his tone casual. Too casual for what lay between you.

You didn’t look at him, instead tracing your finger over one of the tarot cards on the table. “What the fuck are you doing here, Roman?”

He didn’t answer immediately, just watched you with that lazy, arrogant smile, trying to hide the way his pulse was still racing from just seeing you again. “Missed me?”

You shot him a glare over your shoulder, your eyes sharp as glass. “Try again. Why are you here?”

He pushed off the doorframe and took a few steps closer, his gaze never leaving you. “I need your help.”

A humorless laugh escaped your lips. “My help” You turned fully now, eyes narrowing. “After what you did?”

Of course you already know what happened. Roman tilted his head, feigning innocence. “You’re gonna have to be more specific. I do a lot of things.”

That was it. You shot up from your chair, the knife already in your hand, and in a flash, you were in front of him, the blade pressed to his throat. He didn’t flinch, didn’t move, just looked down at you with that same cocky expression.

“Relax, baby,” he purred. “You’ll cut me before we even get to the good part.”

You didn’t bother responding, just pulled back and swung the knife again, aiming to slice his cheek. He ducked, catching your wrist mid-swing, and twisted your arm behind your back, pressing you against the wall.

“Getting feisty already?” he whispered against your ear. “You always did have a short fuse.”

You gritted your teeth and stomped down on his foot, making him loosen his grip just enough for you to break free and punched him in the jaw, the force making him stumble back a step.

Roman wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, smirking when he saw the faint trace of blood on his skin.

You spun around and aimed a punch at his jaw again, which he dodged this time, but not without brushing his fingers over your waist. The touch sent a jolt through you, one you hated yourself for feeling.

“Can’t we just talk like adults?” he taunted. “Or are you gonna keep trying to take my head off?”

You threw another punch, and he caught your arm, smirking down at you. “You really think I wanted to kill her?” he asked, voice dropping to something almost serious.

You yanked your arm free, shoving him back. “You’re a fucking monster, Roman. You don’t care who you hurt.”

He clenched his jaw, something dark flashing in his eyes before he plastered on that smug smile again. “That’s not true, and you know it.”

You scoffed, muttering a quick spell under your breath. The room suddenly filled with an electric pulse, and Roman felt his legs buckle as the force knocked him down to one knee. You moved in to kick him, but he caught your ankle, pulling you off balance. You landed on top of him, and before you could move, he had you pinned beneath him, wrists trapped above your head.

He leaned down, lips brushing the side of your throat. “You’re so fucking stubborn,” he whispered, his voice rough. “I didn’t want to kill her. She wouldn’t fucking help me. She just kept pushing, saying I was a monster. Said there was no cure, that I should just accept what I am.”

You struggled against his grip, glaring up at him. “So you killed her?”

His expression darkened, but he didn’t move. “She lied to me. Promised to help, then called me a lost cause. I snapped. Didn’t even realize what I was doing until she was already bleeding out.”

Your breathing was ragged, your heart racing against his chest. You hated how his scent still messed with your head, how the warmth of his body made your skin tingle.

“You’re just trying to manipulate me,” you hissed, turning your head to avoid his gaze.

He let out a low, frustrated growl. “You really think that little of me?”

You met his eyes, and for a moment, there was something raw in them, something unguarded. But you couldn’t trust it. Couldn’t trust him. You pushed against his chest, trying to shove him off, but he didn’t budge.

“Get off me,” you snapped but he didn’t move.

You shot him a glare, then mumbled another spell, the air around you warping with heat. Roman flinched, forced to release you as the energy crackled around him. You scrambled to your feet, grabbing for the knife again, but he intercepted, catching your wrist and spinning you around, trapping your arm behind your back. Your body was pressed against his chest, his breath hot against your ear.

Both of you were breathing heavily, chests heaving with the aftermath of the fight. His grip was firm but not painful, and you could feel every hard line of his body against yours.

For a moment, you froze. Your mind drifted back to high school, back when you and Roman were inseparable. He was always handsome, undeniably so, with a lean frame that moved with effortless grace. He was good looking, but now? Now he was something else entirely.

The boy you once knew was gone, replaced by a man, a raw, intimidating presence. His body was bulkier, his muscles more defined, his chest pressing against yours in a way that made it impossible to ignore just how much he’d changed. There was a heaviness to him now, a strength that sent a jolt of awareness through you. He wasn’t the same person. And God, did you feel it.

Back then, Roman was still discovering who he was, barely scratching the surface of his power, unsure how to control it or even fully understand what he was. But now? Now he radiated power, a force that could crush anything in his path. There was no hesitation in his movements, no uncertainty. He knew exactly what he was, and how dangerous that knowledge made him. Stronger than ever. Definitely, far more dangerous than you ever imagined.

And then, there was his appearance. Impeccable, like something out of a high fashion magazine. After finding out that he’s the only heir of the Godfrey Industry, Roman started to carry himself with the poise of someone who had everything, a figurehead of the Godfrey empire. His clothes, tailored to perfection, fit him like a second skin. Sharp suits that spoke of wealth, power, and influence. It wasn’t just a look; it was a statement. A fashion icon in his own right. Oh and he definitely kept that throughout the years. The way he moved, the way he held himself, his every detail screamed control and authority. And even in this chaotic moment, you couldn’t help but notice it.

“Please,” he whispered, pulling you to reality. This time his voice wasn’t cocky or mocking, just desperate. “I didn’t know where else to go. I can’t control it. They’re going to come for me.”

Your pulse pounded in your ears, his voice sending a shiver down your spine despite everything. You wanted to push him away, wanted to scream and curse him, but something in his tone made you hesitate.

His forehead dropped to your shoulder, and his hands loosened their hold, just enough to give you space if you wanted to pull away. But you stayed still, caught between your anger and the way his body molded against yours.

“Please,” he repeated, softer this time.

Your breath hitched, and for the first time since he walked through the door, your firm stance is starting to weaken.

You both stood facing each other, the air still thick with unspoken emotions. The fight had died down, but the tension between you two had only grown. You shook your head, clearly frustrated, but with an edge of determination. Your arms crossed, facing the reality of the mess Roman had made.

“You really have no idea what you’ve done, do you?” you said, your tone sharp, but beneath it, you couldn’t help the edge of disbelief. Roman’s careless actions had just thrown him into a storm, and you were the one left trying to figure out how to stop it.

“Hiding isn’t going to work” you said without waiting for his response, moving back to your chair, the subtle grace of your movements betraying the storm inside you. You sank down, the heels of your boots clicking softly against the floor as you reclaimed your space. The Tarot cards that had been spread out in front of you now felt like the only thing grounding you.

Roman raised an eyebrow, the cocky smirk still on his face, but it faltered when he saw the serious look in your eyes. “You don’t want me to hide? I thought you’d be all for that,” he taunted, though there was a flicker of concern beneath the bravado.

But one thing that apparently never changed? His dirty mouth. And his arrogance. Even now, with all the changes, Roman was still the same bastard he’d always been. He still knew how to push your buttons with every word that left his lips, his cocky attitude never fading.

“Shut up, Roman,” you said, your voice firm, staring at him, almost incredulously. “The coven won’t just let this go. You know that, right? They will come for you.”

Roman leaned against the table, his posture casual, but the desperation in his eyes was clear. “I don’t know what I expect to do, but I need you to help me. You’re the only one who can.”

You took a deep breath, your fingers brushing against the edges of the cards. Slowly, deliberately, you began gathering them together, the soft shuffle of the cards a steady rhythm as you stacked them. They had always been a way to focus, to clear the noise from your mind.

You reached for the cigarette case on the table, effortlessly picking up the long cigarette holder. You slid the cigarette into its end and brought it to your lips, the holder dangling elegantly between your fingers. The smoke curled lazily from your lips as you took a slow drag, eyes never leaving Roman.

Roman raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth curling into a smirk. “I didn’t know you smoked,” he remarked, his gaze still on you.

“Well, I learned from the best,” you replied, a hint of playfulness in your voice while you shuffled the cards once more in your hands.

You could feel the old familiarity settle in the room, and your mind briefly drifted back to a different time. Roman teaching you how to smoke for the first time. It was supposed to be innocent, just a few puffs shared between you two but every time you tried, you both ended up closer than expected. His hands, guiding yours. The way his lips brushed against yours as he demonstrated how to inhale. And somehow, every lesson ended the same way: both naked moaning each other’s name.

Roman’s eyes had darkened slightly, and you could tell he was thinking about the same thing. And for a moment the sound of the cards sliding against each other was the only noise in the room. You drag once more from the cigarette and then spread the cards back to the table with slow precision.

“I’ll talk to the coven,” you said finally, your voice cold, calculated. “I’ll explain it, make them understand. But you need to keep your mouth shut and let me handle this. The witch you killed, she was kind of the leader, I’m sure you already know this by now. After her, there were others in the hierarchy. I will speak and I’ll deal with them. You don’t get to say a word.”

Roman took a step closer, his eyes narrowing. “Smart? You mean playing nice with them? I’m not sure that’s my style.”

“You don’t have a choice,” you said, your voice low but firm. “Now pick a card” you continue without looking up from the cards you’d laid out before him.

Roman raised an eyebrow but didn’t hesitate. He moved toward the table, his fingers brushing the cards as he chose one with deliberate slowness, flipping it and then gave it to you. You watched him closely, a faint smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you analysis the card.

Your eyes met again and you saw Roman ran a hand through his hair, his mouth twisting into a rueful grin. Another gesture who reminds you of the old Roman, he always used to do this, apparently he still does.

“I know I fucked up,” he said, the cocky edge to his voice still present, even as he tried to show some kind of regret. “But I didn’t have much of a choice.”

You gestured to the cards. “Pick another one.” You said ignoring his statement.

Roman hesitated for only a moment before he reached out and drew another card, his hand still steady, but you could see the tension in his movements now.

“So, what does it say?” He asked studying the new card, trying to read something in the design, the symbols but he knows shit about tarot reading. You didn’t let him see your reaction, but you were scanning him, watching him carefully. The way he looked at the cards, the way he hesitated, everything he did had meaning to you.

Neither of you spoke, but the air was thick with the weight of the unspoken, everything that needed to be said, but wasn’t.

“Not everything is meant to be said aloud.” You finally broke the silence.

Roman stared at you, his frustration clear, but he knew better than to push you. Not yet, at least. He was here because he needed you, and clearly you weren’t about to make this easy on him.

“I’ll talk to the coven,” you said again after few seconds, “But you really need to let me handle this, Roman, no more tricks and no more loosing control. And no promise this will work.”

Roman shifted, standing a little straighter. He didn’t like it, but he knew it was the only option. His usual cocky, self-assured attitude flickered, but only for a moment.

He stepped closer, his gaze drifting over you in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. “You’re so confident,” he said, his voice lowering to a near whisper. “You always were.”

You didn’t step back, holding your ground. “I’ve had to be. But I’m not the one who killed a high-ranking witch, am I?”

Roman chuckled softly, the sound rich with arrogance. “No, you’re not. But you always did like being the one in control, didn’t you?”

“Not this time, Roman,” you replied, your eyes narrowing. “But still, this time you have no choice but listening to me.”

After a long pause, Roman said, his voice quieter than before. “You know, I didn’t think it would come to this. I didn’t think I’d ever be asking for your help.”

You didn’t respond right away. Instead, you watched him carefully, letting the moment stretch. His voice wasn’t just the usual cocky edge; there was a vulnerability to it now, one that didn’t sit well with him.

“You don’t have much of a choice,” you said after a beat, your tone cold but not unkind.

You knew. Him, standing here in front of you was the last place he wanted to be. And the same went for you. Fate had a cruel sense of humor, mocking both of you by dragging him to your door.

There he was, in your space, with that same cocky smirk and unspoken desperation behind his big green eyes.

You looked at him with a sly smile, one eyebrow raised as you pointed to the cards in front of him. “Wanna pick another card?” you teased, your voice laced with a hint of mischief.

He let out a low, frustrated groan, rolling his eyes. “Enough with the card game,” he muttered, but the corner of his mouth curved up despite himself. He leaned forward, his hands pressing down on the table as he bent over it, his face just a breath away from yours. The tension crackled between you like a live wire, his scent, the expensive cologne and something unmistakably him filling your senses.

“So this is the plan, right?” he murmured, his voice low and rough, daring you to challenge him. “You’re really gonna help me?”

Your eyes traced the shape of his lips, and suddenly, memories came rushing back. His mouth against yours, hot and greedy, claiming every inch of your skin. Those full lips had kissed you breathless, whispered filthy promises in the dark, tasted every part of you. You hated that you remembered so vividly.

“Yes,” you replied, forcing your focus back to his eyes. “But what do I get in return?”

Roman let out a soft laugh, one that was both amused and tinged with something darker. “You know, you haven’t changed. Still the same stubborn, sexy witch you always were.”

You met his gaze, your pulse quickening despite yourself. The attraction was undeniable, and it pulled at you, but you couldn’t afford to let it get in the way now.

“And you’re still the same cocky bastard,” you replied, your voice sharp but with a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of your lips, leaning back, settling into the chair with an air of nonchalance.

His gaze flicked down to your mouth before meeting your eyes again, a smirk dancing on his lips. “Anything you want,” he drawled, the words coated in sin and seduction. He didn’t move back, he stayed right there, so fucking close.

You picked up the cigarette holder again, taking a slow, deliberate drag before letting the smoke curl from your lips. Your eyes never left his as you gave him a faint, almost mocking smile.

“Then we have a deal,” you said smoothly, the hint of a challenge glinting in your eyes.

His lips curved into a smirk, clearly pleased and maybe just a little irritated because he was losing control and loosing control was the one thing Roman Godfrey hated more than anything. And right now, that’s exactly what he’d done.

Given in, let himself be pulled into your plan, and surrendered to the one person he never thought he’d have to depend on. The tension between you was almost palpable, his jaw clenched as he tried to mask the frustration simmering behind those sharp green eyes.

Roman’s gaze dropped to your lips for a fraction of a second, and you saw something flicker in his expression, something primal and raw. He looked at you like he wanted to bite, to taste, to remind you that you weren’t the only one pulling strings here.

But he didn’t say a word. Just gave a single, sharp nod, his eyes never leaving yours. He hated that he needed you. Hated that he couldn’t just walk out and figure this out on his own. Hated how much power you suddenly had over him.

Your lips twitched, amusement glinting in your eyes as you watched him fight for control. You wondered if fate had been waiting all this time just to pull you back together and make you face everything you’d tried to forget.

[halfway-happyyy]

My Sun, My Moon, and All of My Stars {Mikey Berzatto}

summary: recalling the first time you and mikey met results in lots of soft feelings.

warnings: none. cotton candy clouds of fluff.

pairings: mikey berzatto x female reader

an: listen people. i've visited chicago in january. i said what i said, and i will die on that hill. happy reading!

You’d be hard-pressed to find a more miserable place than Chicago in the winter. 

The wind and the cold found creative ways of settling into your bones, often staying there until the May thaw occurred, and even then… Well, even then it wasn’t always enough to drive the chill away for good. While you loved the city's aged and gothic architecture, the inherent gloom that pervaded it tended to follow you around like a specter or an old friend. January wasn't entirely blameless in all of this, either. A month that held only thirty-one days often felt like it dragged on for thirty-one years. And yet, you could never fully bring yourself to loathe the first month of the calendar year, because on the 17th day of it, you met Mikey Berzatto for the first time- and suddenly, winter didn’t seem so awful after all.

“On a scale from one to that time you had to hide in the bar bathroom until I could rescue you, how bad was it?” 

You fiddled with the zipper on the front of your jacket, replaying the night’s mostly disastrous second date, and sighed. “Definitely not that bad.” 

“I mean, you did technically get a Michelin-star meal out of it, so it wasn’t all a complete write-off.” Your best friend Olivia pointed out, and then asked whether you wanted to go home and pound back a pint of frozen custard, or if you were still hungry. 

You eyed the green glowing digits of the clock on her car, which read ‘8:07 P’ and shifted in your seat. “Still hungry.” 

“Perfect,” She cast a smile your way and slid the car into drive. “I know just the place.”

You had been expecting Portillo's or something similar, but when she parked in behind the Original Beef of Chicagoland, you were dubious. 

“I know, I know. But Benny took me here two weeks ago, and when I tell you I’ve been thinking about this sandwich every day since, I’m not lying.” She led you by the hand to the front door, holding it open for you so that you could wander in first. “I mean, they say you know you’re in love when you go to bed and wake up thinking about the same thing, and for me that’s the italian beef here so, pretty self-explanatory I guess…” Her voice became drowned out in the din of the still-bustling restaurant. 

It was chaotic to say the least; a complete assault on the senses. Noise seemed to clamour out of every corner of the small establishment, and somehow the thing that hooked you in the most was the pervasive scent of onions frying in fat on the flattop. Though the restaurant was only open for another hour, it was packed inside, and there was a line-up at the takeout window that snaked around the back of the place.

“Jesus Christ, someone ask for mayonnaise one more fuckin’ time, I’m beggin’ for it. Watch what’ll happen!” A tall, short-haired man yelled loudly, causing peels of laughter to erupt from the line cooks behind the busy counter. The sheer size of his grin, paired with the way his blue eyes glittered merrily, told you that the man was exactly where he was supposed to be in life.

“Order up for Peter! Peter, Peter pumpkin eater! Your orders’ up!” 

“Nikki, come get your order, mama!”

“Got one hot and sweet and one dog comin’ up!” 

Olivia tugged at your sleeve and gestured to the menu. “You wanna get the same thing as me?” 

You nodded, at an entire loss of what else to say, and knowing wholeheartedly that she would never lead you astray anyway.

“Good evening ladies, how are you both on this fine, Friday night?” 

Olivia grinned at the man and rubbed her hands together in excitement. “We’re much better now that we’re here, thank you.” 

The man laughed at that. “Excellent, that is good to hear. What can I get for ya?” 

She ordered two original beef’s and two cokes to stay and told you to grab a table in the quieter section of the restaurant while she waited for the food. While the back room wasn’t necessarily quieter, there were only two other tables occupied, and you settled into a seat by the wall of vintage arcade games.

“Wow, you are uh… you’re awfully dressed up for a trip to the Original Beef.” 

His voice had caught your attention first; the timbre of it immediately soothing in comparison to the chaotic din around you. And then you glanced up at him and it was all over before it had even really begun. His smile was so warm and inviting, the complete opposite of the one you had just spent all evening with, and it caused your breath to hitch in your throat. Delicate creases next to his dark brown eyes spoke novels of how much time he spent laughing, and it was all you could do to keep from blushing.

“I'm sorry, I mean no disrespect, you look amazing. I think it’s been so long for most of us that we forget what it’s like when a beautiful woman graces us with her presence around here.” 

Where it might have been off-putting in any other instance, or from any other man, you found yourself blossoming under the sunlight he shone above you. 

“I uh… just came out of a date, actually,” Your tone was sheepish, but you managed to maintain eye contact with him. “We were at Alinea.” 

His dark brows furrowed together in a mild frown. “Alinea, Alinea… why do I know that name? So damn familiar.”

You tilted your head to the side. “It’s a Michelin star restaurant downtown, super fine dining.”

His eyes lit up and his mouth dropped open in a silent, a-ha! 

“My baby brother, he’s a chef. Super talented, annoyingly so, ya know? I can't get him to shut up about Alinea.” Silence settled between the pair of you before he asked how it was. 

Your eyes widened, and you blew out a puff of pent-up air. “It was uh… an interesting experience, to say the least.” 

He nodded and sat down at the table opposite you. “And the date?” 

You laughed. “The date sucked.” 

He clicked his tongue, and shook his head. “Onto bigger and better things, then hm?”

“How’s your night going?” You asked, by way of wanting to change the subject.

He rubbed at the back of his neck and sighed. “Eh, it’s been a night, I’ll tell ya that much.. But it’s been good. Certainly better now,” He leaned towards you with his hand outstretched. “I’m Mikey Berzatto, by the way.” 

You took his warm hand in yours and introduced yourself back. It had been on the tip of your tongue to say something else, but just as you were about to, Olivia wandered into the room balancing a tray full of mouth-watering food.

“Richie gave you yours on the house, on account of this being your first time here!” She exclaimed excitedly. 

Mikey’s eyes widened, and a warm smile lifted his lips skyward. “First time here, huh?” 

“First time for everything, right?” 

“Mikey, we need your ass out here now! This fuckin’ pop machine ain’t gonna fix itself!” 

He rolled his eyes and rose from the table with a quiet apology. “You ladies need anything- anything at all, come find me.” 

He gave you a small wave and stepped into the main room. 

“How many times do I gotta tell you fuckers not to yell all the damn time, huh?” 

Olivia turned to you, a familiar mischievous glitter blazed in the depths of her eyes. “Okay, he was cute.”

You shrugged, unwrapped half of the sandwich and took a bite, savouring the flavours on your tongue. While you had been used to your best friend’s antics and dramatic flare for a while now, it became apparent immediately that she was absolutely right about this place. You swallowed your first bite and gawked at her, eyes wide. 

“Oh, I know. This place is legendary.” 

You ate your meal in silence, and pondered over how lucky you were to have Olivia in your life; someone you could call night or day, that would get you out of a bind, no problem. You hoped with every fibre of your being that she felt the same about you. 

“I owe you one for tonight, Liv.” You murmured. 

That caused a frown to pull the edges of her mouth downward. “You definitely don’t. But you do owe it to yourself to get back on the horse, so I think you should ask Mikey out.” 

“Ha! You’re joking.” 

She passed a napkin over her mouth and shook her head. “Not at all. Tell him we’re going to Kingston Mines tomorrow night and see if he wants to meet us there.” 

It had taken you until the end of the meal to pluck up enough courage to do as you were told. Mikey was at the other end of the room stocking napkins when you approached him. 

“So, your first time. How was it?” 

You cleared your throat. “Uh, it was incredible. You won't be able to keep me away, from now on."

Mikey’s laughter, and the small smile that followed it, warmed the ice around your heart, and gave you the confidence you needed to continue on. “Hey listen- Olivia and I are headed to Kingston Mines tomorrow night for drinks, and I was wondering if you’d like to join us?” 

Mikey’s smile faltered slightly. “Uh- shit, tomorrow night?” 

You nodded. 

“I’m stuck here tomorrow night, until 11 at least but-

You shook your head. Of course he was. He owned the place.

“No problem, I totally get it.” 

He shook his head. “No, what I’m saying is that I’d like to come. I want to. I can be there around 11:15 if that works?” 

Holy shit. 

“Yeah, that absolutely works.” 

Mikey grinned to himself and reached out to take your hand again. “It’s a date, then.” 

~

Mikey’s eyes opened, and a small smile lifted the corners of his lips. 

“What's goin' on in that beautiful head of yours, baby? You’re lookin’ at me like I hung the moon.” 

You brought the back of his tanned hand to your lips and kissed it. “Because you did. You hung my moon.” He leaned in to your touch, craving more of it always. “I’m thinking about the night we first met.” 

“A good night indeed. I’ll never forget the way you looked in that dress and your leather jacket,” He chuckled softly, the sound of it reverberating deep in your chest. “Never forget the stones you had, asking me out the way you did.”

A blush flooded the apples of your cheeks. You traced a fingertip down the length of his uneven nose, and marveled at how he smiled into your touch. 

“You know I love you, right, Mikey?”

He pressed his lips to your hand and murmured an almost inaudible, I know, baby. 

He tapped your hip twice, a silent command for you to turn around and snuggle back against him, which you did. Your favourite part about being with him like this, was that you were so close you could feel the subtle beat of his heart against your shoulder blade. 

“Mikey?” 

His lips ghosted the shell of your ear. “Yeah, baby?”

You swallowed hard and wrapped a hand around his forearm. “Never leave, okay?” 

He hummed softly against the nape of your neck.

“Whatever happens, we’ll figure it out together, okay? Just please stay.” 

Pressing his lips to the crown of your head, he agreed. 

“I love you, Mikey.” 

I love you, I love you, I love you. 

“Love you too, baby.” 

[cheemscakecat]

I have a headcanon that the reason Jestrellabraum told Ford “You have the face of the man destined to defeat Bill.” is because he needed to believe he had a chance. So he would keep moving, and end up exactly where and when the portal reopened.

To me it always felt like Stanford thinks he’s an awful person for ever trusting Bill. And that the only way to redeem himself is to kill Cipher. He didn’t believe he could be forgiven by strangers or family or God, not without fulfilling this mission.

Ford has an ego, but it’s fed by insecurities and self doubts and the weight of his mistakes. He didn’t understand that it was far worse to be distant and cold to Stan than to admit his past with Bill.

Anyone else would be able to see he’s sorry he trusted that monster, and trying to make up for it. That he’s a good person despite his flaws, but Stanford didn’t get that. It’s wasn’t good enough, nowhere near good enough.

To me, the Oracle was told to speak that way by God, or I guess the Axolotl (I’m Christian)

Ford needed to be guided towards Stanley, not succeed in his self-inflicted redemption. But if he was told he wouldn’t be the one to kill Cipher, it would absolutely crater him. If he can’t redeem himself, what hope is there?

I’m sure she wanted to tell him that he isn’t required to defeat Bill to be a good person. God doesn’t want him to put himself through that. And that she, despite being a former henchmaniac, found peace and redemption without a mission like his.

But it wouldn’t have worked. He wasn’t ready and she wasn’t the right person for the job. Ford needed to stop pushing people way and be saved by the person he hurt the most.

Stanford needed to be safe in Gravity Falls, with Cipher finally locked away where he couldn’t torment him again. Needed to see his family still love him after reading the book of Bill, reading what happened to him.

That, and Stan languished for 30 years looking for his twin. His mission needed to actually succeed. Even if Ford didn’t react well to it, him being back would at least take some of the stress and sleep deprivation away.

Stanley needed to know he’s a good person too, he felt like a screw up his whole life. And personally defeating Cipher would make it a little easier to stomach the Book of Bill. “Yes Ford got abused, but I shattered the monster who did it into a million tiny pieces.”

Also Stan being safe in Gravity Falls for 30 years, instead of homeless and getting hunted down by old enemies. Not being in conflict with the local cryptids, having Soos and Wendy around as an encouragement, people who care.

Now Stan has his brother in case anyone from his past does try to get him on their trip. He gets to finally sail, and knows wherever Bill is, he’s not happy snd trying to hide it.

Anyways, enough of me yapping.

You know what this has been taking over my thoughts for a while so might as well get it out. This is going to be long so buckle up if you want.

There's something I never see mentioned in fics or anywhere else and that's the fact that Stanford was homeless for 30 years. Sure he was traveling from dimension to dimension but from what I can tell Ford was doing basically the exact same thing that Stan had been doing homeless for 10 years if not worse.

He can rationalize it away as all done for the greater good but Ford was a wanted criminal in what seems like hundreds of entire dimensions and likely not allowed to return to many (if he even could) much like Stan was banned from multiple states.

He had a huge bounty on his head and had to be paranoid and careful and on the run constantly just like Stan had been when he owed people like say Rico money.

The biggest difference I can see is that Where Stan was trying to both survive but also make those millions so he'd be worth something to his family and maybe they'd take him back, Ford wasn't expecting to get out of this alive.

Sure he was working towards killing Bill with this singular focus but it seems like Ford was fully expecting to die in the process. Ford fancied himself the hero sure but he was fully prepared to not make it out of that alive.

I actually think that, that whole mindset started even before he fell through the portal. He'd been tormented by Bill physically and mentally for at minimum a month by this point if not longer so when he was desperate enough to reach out for help from Stan. If Stan had taken his journal and left like he wanted I don't think Ford was planning on living much longer. To him there was no way out and if for all his smarts he'd still fallen for Bill's tricks.

For as much as he tried to cover it up he was still terrified that Bill could get to and hurt Stan. He didn't think he was worth saving but the world and everyone/everything was. Unless someone else stepped in I fully believe that Ford would have done something drastic if Stan had taken the journal and left that would have ended in his own death but at least everyone would be safe from Bill. Had no one stepped in in any case.

And I think that carried over on the other side of the portal. His single goal was to kill Bill, and it very much seems like he was prepared and ready to die doing so. He was already doing something drastic.

All this to say I think among all the new quirks and changes that Stan sees, I think he'd see some habits and things he did while he was homeless in Ford. Given enough time while on the ship I think they'd bond more over those shared experiences, and spot those key differences as well.

I think these things could be taken advantage of a bit more.

[sequinsmile-x]

Bound

She wanted to be part of it, to sit here squished between the two of them as Jack learnt more about the woman he’d had stolen from him when he was so young, but she didn’t want to intrude, to insert herself into memories that she was not meant to be a part of.

AKA the one where Emily, Aaron and Jack look through old photo albums, and Emily learns something new about her boyfriend.

-x-

Hi besties,

This is a, slightly belated, birthday fic for the lovely @sometimesitswho <3 I hope you had a day as lovely as you, and that you enjoy this fic!!

This is soft, silly, and exactly what I needed to write to get through the middle of the week!!

As always, let me know what you think <3

-x-

Warnings: none!

Words: 2.9k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily sighs contentedly as she steps out of her bedroom, rolling her neck against the ache that always seemed to come after sleeping on thin hotel mattresses and pillows that weren’t hers. The team had just landed back in DC a couple of hours ago after three days away on a case, and the first thing she’d done was jump in the shower the second she got home - standing under water that bordered on too hot as she washed away the horrors they’d seen the last few days.

She smiles as she walks past her couch, pausing to pet Sergio as he stands on the back of it, delighted to see her after putting up with the neighbour who called in to check on him whilst she was away. 

“What should I get for dinner, buddy? Chinese food or pizza?” She says, grimacing as she thinks of eating takeout again, but aware of the fact she had no energy to go grocery shopping. Her phone chimes with a text, and she pulls it out of the pocket of her FBI hooded sweatshirt, Aaron’s sweatshirt, and she smiles when she sees a text from the man in question. 

Fancy coming over? Jack keeps asking why you aren’t here. We both miss you.

It had been a month since their first date, since she’d finally kissed him and then tugged him into her apartment by his tie, and she knew she’d never been happier. No one on the team knew about them yet, and they were figuring out a way they could tell them about the shift in their relationship, so when the jet landed there wasn’t a chance to discuss anything beyond ‘see you at work on Monday’ like they were simply colleagues, not a couple who were still very much in the phase of their relationship where they couldn’t get enough of each other. He was the first person she’d been with since the damage Ian had left behind, and she knew she was the first person Aaron had been with since Foyet. It made it oddly comforting, made her feel less self-conscious, knowing he was in a similar situation too. Like they were starting all over again, just the two of them, as if anything or anyone that had come before them happened to somebody else. 

Even this early on, she knew that wasn’t something that would really go away. It would change, it would grow and mature along with them, would shift from taking the time to memorise every bit of each other and creating mental roadmaps of each other's hills and valleys, to something more settled. Something built on the strong foundation of knowing another person as well as possible. No less comforted or in need of the other’s presence, but more used to, more reliant on it. 

She calls him instead of replying via text, and she sits on the couch. Sergio immediately climbs into her lap, headbutting her hand for the attention he’d missed from her. She scratches his head and smiles as he curls up against her, purring so loudly he practically vibrates with it. 

Aaron answers the phone on the second ring, and she doesn’t have to be looking at him to know he’s smiling, “Hi sweetheart.”

“Hi,” she replies, letting her eyes drift closed at the comforting sound of his voice, “I miss you too,” she says before she can stop herself, her cheeks warm with embarrassment she doesn’t fully understand, “I don’t want to intrude, though.” 

“You’re never intruding,” he replies, “And I wouldn’t have invited you over if you were. Jack wants you to come over too.” 

“Yeah, Emily, come over.” 

She sinks her teeth in her lower lip in an attempt to contain her smile at the sound of Jack in the background, as if her happiness was something she wanted to hide even from herself. She’d made it clear to Aaron from the start that she didn’t want to overstep, that she never wanted to get in the way of his time with Jack, but for every part of her that wanted to spend all of her time with Aaron, there was an equal part that wanted to do the same with Jack. She’d fallen in love with the little boy long before she’d fallen in love with his father, drawn in by his dimpled smile and his bright eyes from the moment she’d first met him when he was a tiny thing balanced on his mother’s hip. 

“It’s a tempting offer,” she says, but her heart pangs when she looks at Sergio, guilt for leaving him alone again after only just getting home burning her from the inside out. 

“You can bring Sergio over too,” he says, anticipating her needs as always, “Even if he does hate me.” 

Emily rolls her eyes, “He doesn’t hate you,” she says, unable to stop her smile from getting any wider as he chuckles down the line, “Are you sure?” 

“I didn’t buy all those things for him just for fun, Em. It’s because we love having you both here.” 

She laughs, “Well, I guess we’re coming over then.” It warms her from the inside out when she hears Aaron tell Jack that she’d agreed to come over and she hears the little boy celebrate, “I’ll grab dinner on the way over. Pizza? Do you guys want the usual?” 

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to,” she replies, “If you’re providing bed and breakfast for Sergio and me, the least we can do is provide dinner.” 

“Okay,” he says, knowing better than to argue any further, “We’ll see you soon?” 

“I just need to pack a bag for me and get Sergio sorted, and then I’ll be on my way over,” she says, and she can hear his smile again, and she finds herself almost desperate to see it.

“See you soon, sweetheart.” 

She has to press her lips together to stop three little words from escaping, purposely keeping them in her chest where they belonged for now, “See you soon, honey.” 

___

The moment she arrives, she’s almost knocked over by Jack. He runs at her, his arms tight around her waist as he hugs her and talks at a million miles an hour about everything he’d done at school since he last saw her. She’s got her bag over her shoulder, Sergio’s carrier in one hand and two pizza boxes in the other. 

“Buddy,” Aaron says, his smile wide as he watches from a few feet away, looking relaxed and happy and hers as he stands there in a t-shirt and sweatpants that match the sweater she’s wearing, “At least let Emily into the apartment.” He says, taking the pizza boxes from her whilst he winks at her, “We need to help her with all her things.” 

Jack nods, his expression serious as he steps back from her, “Right, sorry, Emily.” 

“It’s okay, sweetie,” she says, running her fingers through his hair. “Want to take Sergio?” She offers, handing over the carrier, smiling when she hears a discontent meow from inside, “You remember how to open it up, right?” 

Jack smiles and nods enthusiastically, taking the carrier to the couch to set it down so he can let the cat out. “Hi, Sergio.” As soon as he unzips the carrier, Sergio bolts across the apartment, and Jack frowns, his expression nothing short of adorable. 

“Don’t worry, Jack,” Emily assures him, her bag and shoes now on the floor so she can tug him into a hug “As soon as he remembers it’s safe here, he’ll come out and say hi.” 

“Jack, will you go get some plates, please?” Aaron says, placing the pizza boxes down on the coffee table, and the little boy runs off, giving Emily and Aaron their first moment alone all day. Aaron wraps his arm around her waist the moment the pizza is no longer in his hands, and he tugs her closer, smiling as she wraps her arms around his neck. “Hi.” 

She hums contentedly and leans in to kiss him. “Hi,” she replies, kissing him again, “I miss you.” 

His hand slips under the hem of the sweatshirt she’d stolen from him and the t-shirt underneath, his palm warm and wide against her bare skin, “We spent most of the day together.” 

She scrunches her nose up and kisses him again, “It’s not the same, though. I can’t just kiss you in front of everyone.” 

He pulls her in for a hug, and because she’s barefoot apart from a pair of socks, also stolen from him, she can tuck herself right against him, his chin on top of her head as he continues to run circles on her back. 

“We’ll tell them at Dave’s next week,” he assures her. “Then we don’t have to keep it a secret anymore.”

She pouts in a way she wouldn’t if she wasn’t exhausted and ruined by him in a way no one else had ever been able to come close to, “I still won’t be able to kiss you at work, though.” 

“True,” he laughs, the sound punctuated by a kiss against her lips as Jack runs back into the room, “One step at a time, sweetheart.” 

Jack hands her a plate, and they sit on the couch. Emily is boxed in by both Hotchners, and she tilts her head curiously as she notices open photo albums stacked on the corner of the coffee table, “What’s all this?” 

“We were looking at pictures of Mommy and Daddy when they first met,” Jack says, smiling appreciatively at Aaron as he places a slice of pizza on his plate, “Did you know they met in high school?” 

She nods as she holds out her plate to Aaron, smiling when he puts some pizza on there for her, “I did know that.”

Jack takes a bite of his pizza, but doesn’t let a mouthful of bread and cheese stop him from talking, “Mommy was so pretty. And Daddy was…well, Daddy.” 

“Thanks, Jack,” Aaron quips, and Emily hums sympathetically, placing her hand on his knee as she squeezes the joint. 

“I’m sure your dad was very handsome, just like he is now,” she says, winking when Aaron’s eyes meet hers. 

“When we’ve eaten, you should look at the pictures too, Emily. Daddy says we can’t look whilst we are eating because we’ll get the pictures dirty.” 

She doesn’t mean to freeze, but she does, her body briefly tense before she can stop it because this was something she didn’t know how to handle. She wanted to be part of it, to sit here squished between the two of them as Jack learnt more about the woman he’d had stolen from him when he was so young, but she didn’t want to intrude, to insert herself into memories that she was not meant to be a part of. Aaron notices, because of course he does, and he places his hand over hers on his knee, linking their fingers together briefly, his eyes soft when she looks up at him again. 

“That will be nice, Jack,” he says, assuring her with nothing more than a flicker of a smile that he was okay with it, “But we should eat first and then-”

“Wash our hands,” Jack says, rolling his eyes, “I know.” 

Aaron leans in to whisper to her, “That’s all you, you know. He never used to do that.” 

She smiles, any anxiety she’d briefly felt forgotten, and she shrugs playfully. “What can I say? I’m an excellent influence.”

___

They spend some time flipping through the albums after they’ve eaten, Emily leaning against Aaron and Jack against her with Sergio on his lap as she lets the little boy point out who is who to her. Aaron needs to correct him a couple of times, his voice soft and loving as he reminds him of what he’d told him the last time they’d flicked through these photos - pictures of the little boy’s mom and dad as kids themselves, moments frozen in time and kept safe behind plastic, both of them young and unaware of everything that was to come. 

Eventually, it’s time for Jack to go to bed, and he hugs and kisses her cheek and tells her he loves her before Aaron shepherds him down the hallway, followed by Sergio, who would inevitably end up sleeping on the end of Jack’s bed. She finds herself alone on the couch, still flicking through the photo album, finding herself unable to stop looking at pictures of the man she loved when he was a lanky teenager - all limbs and height he hadn’t quite grown into yet. She flicks onto the next page of pictures, and something catches her eye immediately. 

Aaron and Haley are standing in the middle of a group of friends, people she’s sure they hugged at graduation and promised they’d stay in touch with before their friendship faded - worn away with time and distance - and they are both smiling widely, but that’s not what she’s looking at. She holds the album closer, a gasp escaping her as it finally clicks what she’s looking at, and she chuckles to herself. 

“No fucking way.” 

Aaron, her stern, very serious, all sharp edges and pressed suits, boyfriend used to have an earring. 

“He’s curled up with Sergio and a book,” Aaron says as he walks back into the living room, “Do you want a glass of…” he trails off when he sees the look on her face, the mix of delight and shock as she looks up at him and lets out a surprised laugh, “What’s wrong?” 

She turns the album to face him, and his eyes go wide because he’d forgotten those photos were in the album he’d left her with, “You had your ear pierced?” 

He sighs, “Em-”

“Come here,” she says, reaching for his hand and tugging him down to the couch, placing the photo album carefully on the coffee table before she climbs onto his lap and grabs his right ear, “I can’t believe I never noticed…” she gasps in delight when she spots it, a tiny scar in the lobe of his ear that she immediately presses her thumb against, “You really did have your ear pierced,” she smiles as she pulls back, pressing her lips together when she sees the pink tinge to his cheeks, feels the way he squeezes her hips, “Sorry, honey,” she says, clearing her throat, “I just never…expected you to have your ear pierced.” 

He smiles, completely unable to stop himself in the face of her excitement at learning something new, something so unexpected, about him, “You’re not going to let it go until I tell you about it, are you?”

She shakes her head, her smile so wide it makes him ache before she leans in to kiss him, fully settling into his lap, her arms around his neck and her thumb and finger still pressed to both sides of the tiny scar on his ear. 

“Tell me everything.” 

“Haley dared me to do it,” he says, wrapping his arms around Emily to secure her to him, her side pressed against his chest as his hand once again sneaks under the sweater she’s wearing, “And I was a teenage boy in love for the first time and entirely unable say no to her,” he says, smiling as he thinks about it, “So we went and got it pierced in a studio that makes me shudder when I think about it now, and I let her pick out the earring. I had it for a few weeks. I took it out for high school graduation and forgot to put it back in, so it healed over. I tried to force it back through, but it wasn’t happening.” His eyes meet hers, and any embarrassment he’d felt is long gone, replaced with warm nostalgia and the joy of sharing this part of himself with the woman he loves. “Haley was disappointed, I was not,” he chuckles, and Emily does too, her hand finally slipping from his ear to his neck as she makes him look at her again, “She said it made me look cool. As you saw, it did not.” 

“I don’t know,” she says playfully, running her thumb back and forth over his jaw. “I think it looked pretty cool, too,” she says, leaning in to kiss him quickly, “Between your single diamond earring, and my Siouxsie and the Banshees phase, we would have made quite the pair in high school.” 

He chuckles at that and turns to kiss her palm, “I dread to think what you could have talked me into,” he says wryly, “I probably would have got my lip pierced or something to impress you.” 

Emily laughs and shakes her head at him before she kisses him again and then snuggles into his chest, her forehead tucked into his neck, “I like learning new things about you.” 

He drops a kiss to her hairline, words he didn’t know how to say quite yet pressed against her skin, “I like learning new things about you, too.”

[war-in-time]

Omg I remember him saying that his family and girl were dead in the books but i completely forgot that he straight up says it was due to the force field. That’s another way I know Collins wasn’t planning this from the start like why at this point would haymitch not tell katniss about what actually happened. Why wouldn’t Plutarch or betee or anyone mention any of this? I just don’t understand how people can say this enriches this world of thg

This is exactly why I’m so bent against sotr. We know that Haymitch wouldn’t lie to Katniss, not in this scene. She’s too vulnerable in this moment, and so is Haymitch while they’re both listen to the abuse that Finnick was put through. If there ever was a separate or additional reason for Haymitch’s family and girlfriend being killed, he would have said so in this scene.

Haymitch had no reason to lie or withhold information from Katniss in this moment, which is why I hate the retcon in sotr’s epilogue passionately. Collins tries to retroactively say that Haymitch told Katniss everything after the war was over but it’s so shoe horned in because she can’t change the actual story that we already have for Haymitch. It’s like putting a bandaid over a dame that’s completely broken and saying don’t worry about it, it’s fine.

It’s not fine. It doesn’t add up. I don’t care if people like this book or not, I just wish they wouldn’t completely close their eyes to what we already knew about Haymitch and his story, and nod along to everything that Collins is trying to change about him.

And it doesn’t make sense that nobody that was part of the ‘rebellion’ in sotr wouldn’t mention anything even in passing to Katniss about how “we tried a few times before, once with Haymitch, it didn’t work.” Prequels do actually need to adhere to what happens after them which is why most of the time they don’t work.

I had one person say that killing Haymitch’s family for the forcefield was too extreme and to that; clearly it wasn’t because that’s exactly what we are told happened directly from Haymitch. They also asked why Katniss�� family wasn’t killed for the berries if Haymitch’s was killed for the forcefield, which… I feel like I shouldn’t need to explain? From what I can remember it’s made very clear in the books that the capital citizens adore Prim because Katniss volunteered for her. Killing Prim would cause an outrage. Sure Snow could have killed their mom, but considering that Katniss very clearly isn’t close to her I don’t think it would have sent any message at all.

It took years for people to start noticing the problems with the Harry Potter books, and almost none of it happened until after the fans turned on JKR. I wish we could just criticize a book 1) without getting attacked for it and 2) without the author needing to become public enemy number one before people realize authors make mistakes and those mistakes are not hills to die on defending.

[pamelaiscrying]

write something with calafiori please😭

You know i love me calafiori too much but goddamn i know my love is a secret asshole.

B.A.S

A Riccardo calafiori fanfic

Summary: There were three times were you and calafiori went back to each other.

B.A.S

Your history with Riccardo went back long before he ever got with his ex.

But what were you, really? That was never clear.

There were nights when his hands knew every inch of your skin, when his mouth traced secrets against your collarbone. Mornings when his warmth still lingered on the sheets, but by midday, it was as if nothing had ever happened. Neither of you dared to define it, too afraid of what the truth might mean.

Trust was never part of the equation. Maybe that was the problem. Maybe that’s why it was so easy for both of you to slip into someone else’s arms, to let your lips brush against strangers’ mouths just to prove that none of it mattered. But did it?

Was it insecurity? Denial? Or were you both simply the worst kind of people for a real relationship?

At least you had the self-awareness to admit it. Riccardo, on the other hand, went and got himself a whole damn girlfriend—only to ruin it in the end.

Both of you were caught in an endless cycle—one of you always picking up where the other left off.

The first time, it was on you.

You had stopped talking when he got into that relationship. You weren’t the type to play the other woman—or at least, that’s what you told yourself. As long as you didn’t know, it wasn’t your fault.

Then the breakup rumors started. The tabloids were full of it, and curiosity got the best of you. A quick check on his Instagram confirmed what you needed—she was gone from his highlights, erased like she had never existed.

That night, you ended up at a club in Bologna. Not just any club—the one you knew he liked. And you made sure he’d notice you. Your dress clung to your body in all the right places, the slits revealing just enough to make his imagination run wild.

And there he was. With his friends, with a couple of forgettable girls—the type who posed for Instagram like it was their full-time job.

But the second your eyes locked, none of them mattered.

You let a smirk play on your lips before turning away, making your way to the bathroom.

And like a man who never learned, of course, he followed.

“What do you want?” he asks, his voice low, rough—like he already knows exactly why you’re here.

You tilt your head, eyes flickering with something dangerous, something playful. “Why do you think I want something?”

Riccardo exhales sharply, his jaw tightening as he takes a step closer. The air between you crackles, thick with unspoken history, with the weight of all the times you’ve danced this same dance before.

“You don’t just show up here for nothing,” he murmurs, gaze dropping briefly to the way your dress hugs your body. His fingers twitch at his sides, like he’s already debating whether to touch you.

You smirk, shifting your weight slightly, letting the movement of your hips say everything your words won’t. “Maybe I just missed you.”

His laugh is dark, humorless. “You don’t miss people. You miss the game.”

You step closer, close enough that his cologne reeks in your nose, close enough that if you wanted to, you could end this teasing right now. But that would be too easy.

“So play with me,” you whisper.

His breath hitches, and for a moment, there’s hesitation—just a flicker. But it vanishes the second you reach for him, your fingers grazing over the fabric of his shirt, feeling the way his heartbeat betrays him.

Riccardo exhales sharply, like he’s trying to hold onto the last shred of self-control he never really had when it came to you. Then, with a low curse, he grabs your wrist and pulls you into the nearest stall, the door slamming shut behind you.

The moment you’re alone, his mouth is on yours—hungry, demanding, like he’s been starving for this. For you. His hands roam over your body, fingers digging into your hips as he presses you against the cool tile wall. The heat between you is suffocating, drowning out the muffled bass of the club outside.

“You knew exactly what you were doing,” he breathes against your lips, his voice thick with something between frustration and need.

You smirk, tilting your head to expose your throat, a silent invitation he doesn’t resist. His lips are on your skin in an instant, teeth grazing just enough to make you gasp. “And you knew you’d follow me,” you whisper, nails dragging along the nape of his neck.

His answer comes in the way he moves—rough, desperate, like he’s trying to prove something. Like he’s trying to make you feel every ounce of the tension that’s been simmering between you for far too long.

Clothes are pushed aside, fingers trailing over bare skin, tongues roams in places that shouldn’t touch. It’s reckless, it’s messy, but it’s exactly what you both crave.

And when it’s over, when you’re both catching your breath and dressing yourselves hazily. Riccardo leans in, his lips brushing against your ear.

“This doesn’t change anything,” he murmurs.

You smile, slipping your dress back into place. “It never does.”

Then, without another word, you leave because that’s how this always goes.

The second time, it’s on him.

You’d just finished a double shift, covering for Maria, who was stuck at home with chicken pox—because apparently, 23-year-olds could still get it. Your feet ached, your head was buzzing from the constant hum of the coffee machines, and all you wanted was to go home, shower, and pass out.

But then you saw him.

Riccardo was leaning against his sleek black car, arms crossed over his chest, muscles flexing slightly—proudly—like he knew exactly what he was doing. Like he knew you’d see him and feel that familiar pull, the one neither of you ever talked about.

You tried to hold back a smile. Forty days this time. A new record for Calafiori.

He caught you looking, of course. He always did. His lips twitched in something close to a smirk, but his eyes—his eyes were unreadable, locked onto you with an intensity that made your skin heat despite the cold air.

With a slow exhale, you made your way over, stopping just short of him, crossing your arms to mirror his stance. “Let me guess,” you drawled, tilting your head. “You just happened to be in the area?”

Riccardo let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Not this time.”

That admission sent a sharp thrill down your spine. He wasn’t even pretending this was an accident.

You arched a brow, feigning nonchalance. “So, what? You missed me?”

His gaze dropped to your lips for half a second—quick, almost imperceptible, but enough to make your breath hitch.

“I tried not to,” he said simply.

And that’s when you knew—this wasn’t over. It never would be.

The next thing you knew, you were in his car, your back pressed against the cool leather seat as his hands roamed over you like he was trying to memorize every inch of skin. His lips were hot, insistent against yours, teeth grazing, breath heavy.

You enjoyed riding him, the way he would roughly split your ass cheeks apart and tease his cock between them. Riccardo enjoyed seeing your terrified expression; how your eyes would go wide and give him the nastiest look warning him to not even think slipping it in the wrong entrance.

“Let me” you command him and he releases the grip from your hips, your one leg bends making you stand in a semi squat position. Slowly moving your lower body up and down, making your tight ass bounce on his cock.

And ricchy loved it, you knew exactly how to ride him. Making him throw his head back and let you do the work, show him how a woman should take a cock and dictate it’s movement.

I t isn’t long after you climb off him—drenched in sweat from the cramped, stifling space—that you finally catch your breath. The car’s interior is a goddamn mess, sticky with sweat and reeking of your mixed scent, it shows the no-holds-barred fuck you just had. Your heart’s hammering in your chest as you steal a glance at him. He’s there, half-awake with a cocky, satisfied smirk, you can see he enjoyed it and proof is the lazy tilt of his head.

He slides his hand slowly along your thigh, the rough pressure sending shivers up your spine as he murmurs, “I know you’ll always be here.”

You arch an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at your lips, and fire back, “And I know you’ll always seek me.”

———

Third time, it’s both your fault.

You’re both in relationships now. Riccardo is still with his Instagram model—nothing new there—and you’ve ended up with a basketball player. He may not be on a huge team, but he’s well-known enough on socials.

It’s been a year since your last hookup with Riccardo, ever since he moved to play in Arsenal

You both end up at the same party, brought together by mutual friendship with Antonio, the birthday boy.

It always starts the same way—your eyes meeting the second you walk in. A silent conversation, scanning each other for anything different, anything social media couldn’t reveal.

Then, the shift. His expression turns cold the moment your boyfriend appears behind you, his arms are on you shoulder,murmuring an apology for letting you enter alone—something about struggling to find decent parking.

Your smile fades when you spot her. Riccardo’s girl. She sets her drink down and throws herself into his arms like she’s done it a hundred times before.

This is new. Both of you in relationships at the same time

The whole night, you and Riccardo barely speak.

He doesn’t need to. His eyes do enough.

Every time you glance up, he’s already looking—fixated, unreadable, like he’s trying to see past the months apart, past the people now standing between you.

You hold out for as long as you can, pretending not to notice, pretending his gaze isn’t burning through you. But eventually, you cave.

You: Will you keep staring?

A few seconds pass before your phone vibrates.

Riccardo: I don’t think he can handle you.

You scoff, fingers already moving over the screen.

You: Neither can your new girl handle you.

Silence. But then—

Riccardo: Want to remind me? Or are you scared?

You: In 10 minutes meet me in Antonio’s guest room in the upper floor.

Riccardo doesn’t reply. Instead, he just looks at you, a sly smirk tugging at his lips, like he already knows how this is going to end.

Then, you watch as he pulls out his phone, running a hand through his hair with a frustrated sigh, pretending to be upset. He leans in close to his girl, murmuring something with just enough urgency to make it believable. She frowns, concerned, and he kisses her cheek before slipping away, heading upstairs under the excuse of an important call.

You don’t move right away. You stay put, perched on your boyfriend’s lap, his arm lazily draped around your waist as he scrolls through his phone. You rest your head on his shoulder, feigning comfort, then suddenly shift.

“I think my period just came,” you murmur, standing up abruptly.

He looks up, frowning. “Damn, baby. So early?” Then he chuckles. “At least you ain’t pregnant.”

You force a laugh, rolling your eyes. “Yeah, lucky me.”

You walk off, heading towards the stairs, keeping your pace slow, casual. No one notices as you slip away.

When you reach the upper floor, Riccardo is already waiting, leaning against the doorframe of an empty room, arms crossed, lips twitching like he’s fighting a grin.

“You know,” Riccardo muses, “he’s not exactly the type of guy you’d go for—let alone have a relationship with.”

You scoff, tilting your head. “Well, Miss Instagram Model number what? Very predictable,” you shoot back, lips curling into a smirk.

His jaw tightens just slightly, but he doesn’t argue. Instead, he steps closer, fingers grazing your hip like he’s done it a hundred times before.

“You’re one to talk,” he murmurs, voice low, threatening even.

And then it all wraps up. His mouth crashes against yours, hands gripping, pulling, pressing. There’s no hesitation, no second thoughts—just heat, teeth, and the inevitable pull that always drags you back to him, no matter how much time has passed.

Riccardo smirks, fingers hooking around the thin strap of your red thong, snapping it lightly against your skin. His voice is low, teasing.

“Waited for me?”

You let out a breathy laugh, slipping your hand into his pocket, and sure enough—your fingers brush against the unmistakable foil of a condom. You pull it out, holding it up between your fingers, tilting your head.

“Waited for me, huh?” you muse, throwing his own words back at him.

For a second, he just stares at you, then lets out those breathy laughs of his.

“Fuck it,” he mutters, voice rough, hands already gripping at your hips.

“Guess we both ain’t shit,” you reply.

[ford-tamblyn]

“ please don’t. I would like to have kids some day “ ford replied as he glanced to his twin with a surprised look on his face. He understood the concern but Ford couldn’t let himself drop it. Not when his family refused to let him live it down either. Maybe they were all jokes from them but ford couldn’t help but forever feel like the family sell out. He was a professional liar when it came down to it and it made him realize as he got older that him and his dad were maybe a little closer than he’d one thought. “ that’s true. Most people in reality tv are actually worse in real life. “ he’d own plenty of people who were way worse. A few that were better but it was rare. “ you know, in the beginning it wasn’t a character right? “ he admitted. “ I was actually that mad and volatile and a pain in this ass. I think cause I was mad about the stuff with dad and then because I left home I didn’t have as easy of contact with you and the others. I think that’s why I have a hard time living it down. It’s not who I am now , but it wasn’t exactly a lie either “

“ wait so we’re admitting my idea wasn’t the worst thing to ever happen?” Ford asked at the comment his twin had made in regards to his reality tv run. He smiled a bit and didn’t dwell too much on it.

“ fuck I shouldn’t have opened my mouth “ ford added shaking his head. There of course was someone but how could he really get into it all yet when he was still figuring some stuff out. “ there is someone though. Do you remember Iris Alderidge? She went to school with us. Maybe the grade above us? I think she used to date that guy who ended up an actor? She’s back in town and we reconnected and I don’t know? We were friends back then and now it just feels different. Like we’re both different and I really like her, please don’t laugh “

Ford understood the idea of being caught in the moment. Kenny and him may have been different in other ways but that was something the twins shared. He knew exactly what it looked like when he got caught up in a moment. “ I get it. “ Ford began as soon as the story had wrapped. He hadn’t been there in person but he understood the fears of being trapped. It was so funny though because all ford wanted in life was to be ordinary now but his siblings had other plans. But none of them were ever gonna be ordinary. They were Tamblyns and with that came a flair for the dramatic. “ You will never be ordinary even if you’re stuck in Aurora Bay dealing with all of us. “ he teased. “ I know we’re not the family to talk about this stuff but, if you ever feel alone or sad again, I’m around for you “ he noted trying to it to think too much about it but he understood how it felt to be in a place and just feel so completely alone. It was why he quit Nepo babies. “ that’s the main reason why I quit the show. Filming kept me away from you guys cause I didn’t wanna suck you and Vi, and the others into the show and I felt trapped. The situations are different but I think our family has this thing where we want to avoid feeling so stuck. It’s in our nature to run from being trapped“

“What a thought, right? “ he laughed before glancing at them again. Kenny didn’t answer about the whole dying together joke and he assumed that meant somewhere between yes and shut up. @kennyxtamblyn

"Ford, if you say you're like him again I'm going to kick you in your balls." Kenny rolled their eyes with a huff. "You're not like him. Even if you lied about stuff for your little reality show it doesn't make you like him. The difference is that on the reality show you were playing a character-- acting. Besides, anyone who thinks reality tv is one hundred percent real clearly still needs a reality check." Kenny paused, realizing how weird that sounded. "Whatever. You know what I mean. You're not like him. Dad wasn't playing a character, he was lying to everyone and... well, he sucks. You played a character on a show. I'm not going to let you sit here and continue to compare yourself to him." Kenny teased their twin relentlessly but that didn't mean they didn't love and care for him.

"A real girlfriend?" Kenny's brows rose, happy to change the subject from their crappy father to something more interesting. "Will you ever get a real girlfriend or will you forever wallow in your self pity for taking a job that kept food on the table?" That just may be the closest Kenny would come to admitting that Ford wasn't a sell out but did what he had to do to survive. "Pray tell, is there a real girlfriend I don't know about yet?"

When the conversation turned back on Kenny and their ex-- well, on their spouse, they shifted their weight. It wasn't exactly something Kenny talked about much. Sure, the marriage was impulsive and it was probably due to the excitement of being in a romantic setting after having filmed a wedding for a couple in Italy, that led them to make the rash decision to get married on a whim. It didn't mean Kenny didn't care about the person though, it was just that Kenny didn't want to settle down and they felt weird talking about that sort of thing. However, if Kenny was going to talk to anyone about it, it would be to Ford.

"I think it was me being caught up in the moment and thinking I wanted something I really didn't. Well, not that I didn't want them, it was just... I don't know. I think we were too caught up in everything to realize that we wanted very different things. I want to keep traveling and exploring and they wanted to find a place a stay and settle down. Be... normal." Kenny said the word like it pained them to even think about having a somewhat normal life. "It's not that I don't like them or that we weren't good for each other, I just don't want to feel..." Kenny paused, trying to decide if they wanted to allow that little wall to come down so they could share something personal with their brother. "I didn't want to feel trapped. I don't want to live an ordinary life where I'll be alone and sad all the time but I can't stand the idea of staying in one place for too long." It was a bit ironic because Kenny was now living in Aurora Bay and had been for nearly a year now. It was different though because Kenny never felt alone with their siblings.

"You? A Tamblyn? Getting their shit together? Don't think it's possible." Kenny grinned.

@ford-tamblyn

[bestworstcase]

thinking about those two deer in the lost fable again. out of all the assets created just for this one episode, why?

like… it’s not random. the only other animals in this story have been amber’s horse, zwei, and the branwens’ bird forms. all have some narrative relevance, a clear connection to a character that justifies the expense and effort of modeling them. and then in the lost fable—an episode that was always going to be a heavy lift technically and financially for the sheer amount of ground to cover and novel assets required—has these two deer. they’re only on screen for like two seconds.

it’s narratively motivated. the lost fable is a highly symbolic episode and that symbolism foreshadows the ever after / ascension / all the v9 lore quite strongly; it follows that the intended symbolism of this shot demanded the presence of these deer.

the god of light has deer antlers. in the blacksmith’s story, the first act of destruction is to eat; darkness eats, light does not. light holds himself at a distance, he designs, he does not live. these deer are grazing. salem appears from a plume of smoke at the base of the withered tree, and the deer startle at her approach and look up at her. the shot transitions to salem looking upon the grimm in the ruins of a town—

“she cursed the gods, she cursed the universe. she cursed everything—everything but herself,” says jinn. but her expression isn’t anger. (always check her eyebrows.) it’s more intense concentration, intense thought…

…which brings her back to the pool of grimm. jinn says that “fate” led her back here because that’s what ozpin believes. but this sequence begins with those deer, eating. destruction in its purest unadulterated form. salem visually emerges from the withered tree. she’s observing the grimm and she’s thinking. if the fountain of life had given her immortality, then surely the pools of grimm would finally take it away—not “finally let her die.”

rolls over.

the fountain of life gave her infinite life. salem hoped the pool of grimm would take it away. not kill. not destroy. infinite life. if you take from an infinite quantity, an infinite quantity still remains. this force of pure destruction could not destroy, so it created…

destruction first, to clear the wilderness away. darkness eats the tree’s brambles and through this act creation is born. jinn’s telling distorts through ozpin’s belief, but the truth is there. pure destruction and infinite life are not in conflict; rather, destruction feeds life.

the pool of grimm did take from her life—subtract from the infinite and the infinite remains—she’s torn apart and remade. creativity, to imagine what, and who, could replace the wilderness.

jinn tells this story, ozpin’s story, in a way that obfuscates salem’s real agency and her personhood, casting her alternately as tragic object of fate and inhuman monster. fate led her back to the land of darkness; a being of infinite life with a desire for pure destruction.

he believes salem wanted to die when she leapt into the pool of grimm.

did she?

the deer, the grimm, herself, the pool of grimm. wilderness and ruin. all that remained. i arrive at the edge of the world […] should i kneel?/what should i feel?/will i fall apart?/maybe that’s all i want […] and in my heart it’s there/standing tall enough to fix it all/it’s just a new beginning/it’s just a different ending […] i am everything and nothing/all at once/i’ll meet you at the horizon/where we first met/where i died, i’ll be born again…

(something. something. without you i am nothing, but because of you, i am everything. self-similar narrative.)

the edge of the world. . .

mutters. sow the death and reap the seed -> the moon will sadly watch the roses die -> a rose will grow to be a seed/from every life another leads -> some roses will never bloom. the burning rose, the shattered moon.

did. she know—did she have an idea that destroying herself would create a new world? destruction to clear the wilderness, creativity to imagine its replacement.

“they could claim the powers of their creators for themselves and in turn perfect their own design; all they needed to do was destroy their old masters.” -> “this was it, this had to be it, the brother’s grimm, the pools of black that continued to give rise to horrific nightmares” -> “we could be the gods of this world. […] create the paradise the old gods could not.”

like. it’s not just

it’s those fucking deer. eating. the grimm picking over the ruins. (grimm eat their prey.) salem, observing, thinking. “the gods had hoped that salem would learn from her eternal curse, and she did.” the god of light bade her learn the importance of life and death, and she did. and then she jumped into the pool of grimm and created remnant. a new world. a completely unfamiliar world–

…oh. ohhh

“magic was a gift from the gods that all could wield” -> “without the blessings of the gods, no one could perform magic like mankind was once capable of”

and

“aura is a manifestation of the soul, a life force that runs through every living creature on remnant.” we could be the gods of this world.

how does pyrrha unlock jaune’s aura? “for it is in passing we achieve immortality; through this we become a paragon of virtue and glory, infinite in distance and unbound by death. i release your soul, and by my shoulder protect thee.” a religious mantra echoing salem’s idea of transcendence. magic was a gift from the gods that all could wield; aura is a manifestation of the soul that everyone has, though only a select few are privileged by ozma’s institutions to learn. “with enough training and focus,” salem says, “a user’s aura can turn them into much more than just a man.” the illustration is ozpin’s silhouette—but ozma’s power isn’t derived from aura, it’s magic, and the infinite man is fond of saying that he is “only a man, not even a very good one,” and salem herself sees him as diminished, as lessened. he’s the image of “just a man.” a person’s aura can make them much more than ozma. much more than the brothers’ design.

our powers surpass all others.

salem is grimm. even if she has aura, she cannot use it to protect herself. the gods gave humans magic and then took it back; salem threw herself into the pool of grimm and it broke her apart and—symbolically if not literally—took away her aura and gave it to the people of remnant, reborn from the ashes of her rebellion. a semblance is the outward manifestation of one’s soul. she wanted humanity to claim the powers of their creators and perfect their own design, and… with enough training and focus, a user’s aura can turn them into something much more than just a man.