#she may return someday

[someone--stupid]

you changing your profile pic was shocking to me

rip princess diana, gone but never forgotten 💀

[cigaretteparfum]

ugh. okay. i've ranted about this in my journal less than five minutes ago but apparently my thirst to fucking yell at the clouds won't be satiated until i've put it somewhere public.

look. i love Seo Soojin and think her removal from the group was as unfair as the next stan, but the way people talk about the conclusion of the case really drives me mad. i see a lot of "she was proven innocent by her lawyer" and a lot more of "it was a false accusation" but going by the last statement from her attorney that i read, i feel like there's a lot more going on than that.

first thing's first, i don't know how it is in different countries or different justice system, but as far as am aware "proving" anything isn't a lawyer's job. first and foremost their job is to represent their client; specifically in cases such as Soojin's, it's to represent their client through a legal dispute/investigation. if there's anything related to "proofs" to their job, then that would be to collect evidences and statements. but to determine whether someone is innocent or guilty isn't within their rights.

her lawyer can't "prove" her innocence. all they could do was to collect and present the evidences that may -- hopefully -- get her an innocent verdict, but that verdict wasn't theirs to make.

now with that said, again, going by the last statement released that i read last year, i'd say Soojin's lawyer did a pretty good job collecting those evidences that may point towards her innocence. from what i remember:

they had statement(s) from the school staff as witness claiming that there were no records of the bullying Soojin was accused of;

the only record of bullying related to Soojin that they had instead pointed at her as the victim, not the bully; and

when questioned about it, the accuser/her team failed to present any evidence to support their claim of Soojin bullying her that wasn't simply hearsay (i.e. she said/she said situation)

also included in the statement though more like a quote, the accuser had also apparently admitted that "she wasn't sure (anymore)" whether Soojin really was part of the group that she'd claimed to have bullied her or not.

so all of these do point towards the conclusion that Soojin didn't do what the accuser said she did. at the very least, it opened the door for further investigation of the claim and, therefore, the case. at this point, based on the statement, Soojin's team had successfully submitted their own evidence to counter the accuser's claim to the police, while the accuser's team had not.

the proper course of action after this was supposed to be for the police to: 1) investigate the evidence submitted by Soojin/her team to determine its truth and 2) press the accuser/her team to finally submit their evidence to backup their claim as well as counter Soojin's. in my country, to my knowledge at least, if the accuser fails to fulfil point no.2 while point no.1 leads to a definitive yes, then the case would be dropped as false allegations and that opens the door for a counter-suit under defamation.

but, quoted in the statement, a member of the force instead claimed that there was not enough leads/evidence to investigate the case further. it was treated as though both parties failed to submit evidence to support their positions and claims, when as stated: Soojin did not fail, the accuser did.

it's hard not to look at all of this with at least a little bit of a side-eye. the case didn't seem like it was dropped because there was simply not enough going ons to continue pursuing it, it instead seemed like it was dropped because thus far at that point, Soojin may come out on top.

the case was not dropped because she was legally proven to be innocent, but because the evidence gathered favoured towards her innocence and the cops were not interested in pursuing that.

the more that i think about the inconclusive conclusion of the case, the more i can only think of one word. it's what people in my country call kongkalikong; the whole tail end of this case just stinks of corruption. this isn't "just" a false allegation. it feels far more insidious than that.

so ... no, Soojin's lawyers didn't "prove" that she was innocent, they just gathered and presented the evidence that could have cleared her of the accusations had the justice system worked properly. and, no, it wasn't a "false allegation" legally because the people who were supposed to investigate and determine that were not interested in doing their job.

in conclusion: the whole case is mad fucked. its ""conclusion"" even more so. if you're going to talk about it, don't just talk about the lawyers and the accuser. there's a whole third, maybe even fourth party, that you're forgetting to include.

[vivwritesfics]

Bad influence

Big brother Daniel is a bad influence on Y/N and her Lestappen Boyfriends have to deal with it (blurb)

The door was thrown open, hitting the opposite wall. Daniel Ricciardo walked into the Monaco apartment, his arms wrapped around his sister. "She's all yours," he said and dumped her on the couch.

Max and Charles looked at her. She was so out of it, a lazy smile on her face as they looked at her. "I'll get the water," Max said as Charles joined her on the couch.

"Hey baby," he said, sitting her upright. "Did you have a fun right."

Y/N nodded her head, completely messing up her hair. "The funnest," she muttered, leaning against his side.

Suddenly Max appeared, placing a tall glass of water on the table in front of her. "I want you to drink all of that," he said, arms crossed as he looked at her.

Y/N muttered something under her breath. Something that had Max cocking his eyebrow and demanding she repeat it.

"Piss off and cuddle me!" She shouted, her words slurring. But the way she said it was like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Max shook his head and returned to his sim racing rig. If she was going to be like that, Charles could deal with her.

But Y/N pouted. "Max," she called in a singsong voice. "Max, Maxie," she shouted. "Hey, Max! Maxie, Maxie, Max!" She called his name over and over again until Max finally turned around.

When he finally did Y/N had her fingers held out towards him, curled in the shape of a heart.

Charles stayed on the couch with her, ensuring she drank her water. He put on some easy watching TV to keep her occupied while he went to get some pyjamas and a blanket.

"Someday you will find me, CAUGHT BENEATH THE LANDSLIDE!" Y/N suddenly shouted.

Max was over in an instant, hand covering her mouth as she continued to sing champagne supernova. "Schat, please, we have neighbours," he whisper shouted.

So, Y/N resorted to whisper shouting the rest of the song. It must have been playing in the taxi back or something, but Y/N couldn't remember where she heard it. No matter, it was still firmly stuck in her head.

Dealing with drunk Y/N was not a one man job. Charles and Max worked together to wrestle her into some pyjamas and under the covers.

They were going to let her sit with them while Max was on the sim and Charles watched TV in the background, but she was a liability.

Charles got her under the covers and sat beside her, making sure she wouldn't go anywhere. Max walked off to get her more water and turn off his sim.

When he got back, he climbed into bed on the other side of her. He and Charles leaned down to kiss her cheek as she drifted off into a drunken slumber.

The boys didn't sleep for some time, staying awake to make sure she was okay. Their drunk girlfriend may have been a liability, but they loved her dearly.

[aboutcustardcreams]

We walk the wind-y road

Another glimpse into the past: Nicky's six, and you and Agatha are trying to make the most of your days together, constantly pushing away the nagging feeling that, sooner or later, everything was destined to change.

warnings: none, just fluff and tickles.

previous chapter

You, Agatha and Nicky were walking the path through the forest. It was a beautiful sunny day, with birds chirping in harmony mingling with the wind rustling through the leaves on the trees. Blades of grass crunched softly under your feet, adding to the peaceful sounds around you, distracting you, or more likely trying to. 

You glanced over at your son then, the sight of him enough to put your heart at ease. It took you a second to recognize the song you three made up together coming from him. 

Walk, walk, walk the Road,

I walk the windy road

Agatha’s lips tugged into a defiant smile, she lowered the book she was reading to focus completely on Nicky, who was strolling beside you, “you happen to walk this windy road all by yourself?” 

The boy lifted his chin up and returned her smile, “no, mama.” The way he scrunched up his nose made it impossible for you to resist the urge to lean over to peck his forehead affectionately, “can we join you then, big man?”  

His long brown hair swayed a bit in response to the wind blowing against his face. He nodded his head and cleared his throat to restart the song. Agatha scooted closer, humming along with Nicky right away, words lingering in the air, as to seal the promise to always stick together as a family. A vow you were desperate to keep, no matter the cost. 

Walk, walk, walk the Road, 

we walk the windy road.

These moments of peace, of complete domesticity between you three meant the world to you. Nicky was your whole world, yours and Agatha’s. And your life was apparently perfect, thanks to his presence, to the chance you were given in life to be his mother. A privilege you never once took for granted. However, your heart wasn’t whole. When Rio left you three, about six years ago, she took a piece of your heart with her, probably one of Agatha’s too to be honest. Despite missing her with all your soul, craving her affection and silly jokes, you lived with the hope that your reunion would happen years and years from now. Because you knew what that would mean for you three, then. 

There was so much of Rio in Nicky: the shape of the eyes for starters, the tip of the nose, even the way his mouth curled at the corners whenever he smiled. You weren’t sure if that resemblance helped you cope with the separation from Rio, or it only made you crave her presence more and more. Maybe it was a mixture of the two things. 

You knew that this idyllic frame wouldn’t last forever. This sense of… apparent bliss, calm even would stop someday. You knew you’d have to fight for your son to stay alive when that moment came. Your magic was strong, it sparkled in anticipation just to the thought of being put to use as if it was only made for this purpose. But neither of you knew when Rio would show up to claim Nicky’s soul. And no matter how many times you told yourself you were ready, the idea of having to face the challenge was terrifying. Because you were the only one able to actually do something to change Nicky’s course of life. 

Whenever it may bend

Agatha tugged at your hand gently, apprehension written in her blue eyes. She could always sense when your mind was elsewhere, you’d scrunch up your face then, stare ahead of you, without really looking at anything in particular, and your magic would intensify, getting heavier around you, and affect everything near you. When she touched you, she felt a warm sparkle tickle her digits, you felt it too, making you quickly shift your focus, come back to the present, see her seeing you. You attempted to smile, “did you say anything?” Her thumb grazed against the back of your hand, and when she nodded her head, she repeated, “the song…”

You noticed that even Nicky was patiently waiting for your voice to mingle with theirs. So you gave him an apologetic glance and added your line. You needed to be there, to be present for Agatha and your son. Your worries could wait until night time to surface. 

I’ll be there at the end

You three sang the song again, and this time you hummed along from the beginning. Your focus shifted with Nicky being at the center of all your thoughts. He was only six years old, and yet his intelligence and empathy was above your comprehension sometimes. Agatha told you often, with pride filling her voice, that you and Nicky shared the same braveheart, along with a generosity so rare and unconditional towards every living thing that caused her eyes to water if she lingered to think about it for a second too long. Even that cute dimple, just underneath his right cheekbone, came from you. Everytime he smiled, even more when he laughed, it would show up and light up the entire space around you. Agatha would call it ‘happy little bottom’, causing both you and Nicky to laugh at how cheesy she could be. She would make sure to see that dimple every single day, because that would mean that despite all the horrible choices she had to make to keep Nicky alive, at the end of the day he was happy. 

Another incredible thing about Nicky was the fact that he knew to be different. He always did. And yet, he never asked questions about his condition, about why he would fall sick much easier than other kids. 

He might not question that specifically, but he sure questioned more often than not why so many witches had to die every other day as if it was a natural chore to be completed. 

And that happened to be one of those days. 

“Mama, why do you kill witches?”

Agatha stilled for a moment while you clenched your eyes shut and let out a shaky breath; his timid voice replaying in your head and no matter how many times you came across the same topic, it would always shock you the same way. You couldn’t blame him for wanting to know the truth, nor could Agatha, however, it wasn’t an option to be honest with him about it. Because he was like you, too considerate, his heart too good for his own sake. If Nicky were to know all those killings were necessary to keep him alive, he surely would have something to say about it, despite his young age. 

Agatha glanced at him only briefly, before coming up with a response, you knew it wouldn’t satisfy him, it being too simplistic, “to survive.” 

You pulled the boy closer to your side, and he lifted his chin, this time looking at you. His eyes squinted, and you spotted the confusion filling his hazel eyes. He wanted more, he searched for more. 

“Could we not stay with the witches and survive with them?” 

Your steps came to a halt at this point and as you did, Nicky stopped too. Agatha watched in silence as you crouched down in front of him, so that you could speak to him face to face. 

“I wish it was possible, my love,” you muttered with a hint of sadness lacing your voice. When he frowned, you ran both your hands to cup his cheekbones, thumbs gently stroking his skin, now slightly paler, and you knew he would need to feed on more magic soon. Not a single day passed without you wishing to take his illness, to transfer his condition and make it yours, but that was beyond your skills. You could do so many things, and yet the thing you wanted the most was beyond your limits. “Sometimes, as your mama said, in order to survive, tough decisions must be made. Decisions that don’t depend on you, though. I want you to always remember that, okay?”

He nodded quietly, eyes boring into yours, as a veil of understanding started forming in them. Agatha nibbled on her bottom lip, lashes fluttering quicker to ward off those angry tears that threatened to spill from her eyes. It was harder for you to kill, but you never backed away from doing it. You even resurrected a couple of them once, tried to apologize with tears in your eyes, mortified by the things you had to do, but they wouldn't listen to reason. All you found was hatred in their eyes, and not only they didn’t accept your apology, they also threatened to take yours, Agatha’s and Nicky’s life. You knew there was nothing to be done then, with your magic weakened by the effort of bringing those witches back, Agatha would shield you and Nicky and absorb their magic all over again, making your act of mercy completely vain. So eventually, you stopped doing that. Agatha begged you to, noticing what it was doing to you. 

“You and mama are witches, right?” 

You nodded your head, unsure where he was going with this. 

“And you live together,” he reasoned, “You don’t try to kill each other-”

Agatha let out a quiet, sad chuckle at that. Nicky was clever, so much so that sometimes, it was hard to keep up with him. 

“It’s different,” you quickly said, brushing a strand of hair behind his ear. “I love your mama,” Agatha’s heart swelled at your words, she licked her lips and nodded, glancing down at the two of you with immense love, a hand lingering upon your shoulder. Then you scooted closer to Nicky, lips against his ear as you whispered, “but I love you more.” 

The boy giggled. It caught Agatha’s attention, and that’s when she crouched down next to the two of you, she asked with a cocked eyebrow, “what was that?”

You nibbled on your bottom lip, trying so hard to suppress a grin from curling your lips. It only caused Nicky to squirm and chuckle more, so you pulled him in your arms, “Nothing. Our boy was just craving some cuddles, right?” Agatha’s eyes lingered on those two dimples as they both popped out at the same time. She watched him wrap his arms around your neck, snickering and nodding at the same time.  

“Momma said she loves me more,” your eyes snapped open at his confession. 

Agatha let out a defiant sound at that, “Oh, did she now?” There was a playful glimmer in her orbs when she locked eyes with you. 

“You little snitch–” you started, voice morphing in a teasing and silly tone. Nicky dropped the rope the moment your fingers wiggled up and down his sides, tickling him immediately. The sound of his laughter soon echoed throughout the forest, muffling all the others and giving you the illusion that everything was fine, that your son was healthy with no invisible countdown threatening his life. 

“Mama! Mama– help!” 

“Oh no, big boy, now you face the consequences of your–”

Before you could finish that sentence, you felt Agatha’s hands slip down your waist, pulling you against her with such unexpected force, both of you stumbled backwards in the soft grass behind you. “Agatha, what in the world?” You chuckled and tried to break free, but she didn’t let you go, “I do believe I deserve an explanation, my love–” her voice sounded like a soft murmur against your ear. Her long wavy hair tickled your face as she drew closer, raising you soft goosebumps over your skin. 

In the meantime, as Nicky’s laughter quieted down, his grin stayed, “get her mama! Use your purple!” 

Agatha seemed tempted by the idea, whereas you not so much, “my purple, huh?” 

“No, no, no– don’t you dare!” 

Despite your warning, your voice carried more amusement than alarm, and Agatha didn’t miss it. In a heartbeat, she turned the tables— quite literally. She spun you around, and the world tilted as your back hit the cool blades of grass underneath you. A startled giggle escaped you, and you locked eyes with her, “Agatha Harkness, I am serious–” using her full name as warning, only fueled her intent to ruin you. 

“So am I, baby,” Agatha grinned down at you, her knees on either side of you, pinning you effortlessly. She wiggled her fingers in mid air and that’s when you spotted a glimpse of purple over them. 

The moment Agatha’s fingernails brushed against your sides, you couldn’t help the sound slipping from your lips– a mixture of a squeal and helpless laughter, light and almost childish. Another thing you had in common with your son was your ridiculous ticklishness. 

She found out by accident, to be honest. Nicky wasn’t in the picture yet. There was Rio, though. You were lying on your stomach, nestled against Rio’s side in bed. Agatha’s arm lazily looped around your middle, her fingers tracing soft, absent-minded patterns along your skin, a sweet cuddle before sleep. When suddenly Agatha’s fingers skimmed your side, near your hip bone, your body jolted and a high-pitched sound slipped from your lips, which involuntarily startled them. 

Rio’s chin lifted from its resting spot atop your head and almost laughed in disbelief, “Did you just– squeak?” 

You groaned, already burying your flushed face deeper into Rio’s chest, making you miss the amused glimmer flashing into Agatha’s eyes, “I did not.” 

“I think you did, my love,” she argued. 

Before you could protest, her fingers ghosted over your side again, near the same spot, eliciting another yelp from you that turned into a real fit of giggles the moment she really started tickling you.

That’s how your little secret stopped being one. 

Back in the present, Agatha felt her heart swell with love at the sight of that familiar dimple appearing on your cheek. Glancing over at Nicky, she realized he had it too, his own showing as a huge grin spread across his lips.  

“Oh, would you look at that!” When her purple joined in, as Nicky suggested, adding a feathery sensation to your already oversensitive skin, it only made you thrash and laugh harder, “Pretty inconvenient for such a powerful witch like you to be this ticklish, huh?” 

“Agatha– Stop it!”

“I don’t know,” she teased, her tone both playful, as she gave you another playful jab at your side. When your laughter turned silent and tears started prickling at your eyes, Agatha’s gaze softened and her fingers slowed down, but without stopping completely. 

“What do you say, Nicky? Shall I let her off the hook?” She asked, glancing over at the boy, who had been watching the entire thing with a grin on his face. 

The boy closer to the two of you, coming into your line of sight. You thanked the Dark Mother when he gave Agatha a nod of his head as a response, making her stop her innocent, yet disarming assault right away. 

“You okay, momma?” 

You weakly lifted a thumb up, voice a tad breathless as you tutted, “Y-yeah— peachy.” 

When Agatha got off you, you propped yourself up and leaned on your elbows, finally allowing yourself to catch your breath, “I’ll get you two for this– just you wait.” 

“We will be ready,” Agatha mused.

You rolled your eyes, and before you could formulate another retort, she leaned back down again, her hands slipping to your hips, not to tickle this time, but to steady herself. Her face hovered a few inches from yours, her long hair falling like silk across your shoulders. 

The playful gleam in her eyes shifted into something else, a much tender look, that made your breath hitch and your heart jump in your throat all over again, “that was mean, you know–” your flushed cheeks betrayed just how much you weren’t really complaining about what happened.

Agatha tilted her head and cocked an eyebrow, “I’m sure I can make it up with you quite nicely–”

“Oh, can you?” 

Humming softly, her lips found yours in a slow, unpretentious kiss, that put a huge smile on both your face and Agatha’s. The world stopped for a moment– the sounds around you, the voices inside your head, until an exaggerated groan pierced the moment. 

“Ew, moms!”

You broke the kiss with a quiet chuckle, much to Agatha’s displeasure. She let out a dramatic sigh and leaned her forehead against yours, unwilling to let go of you just yet, “You should know Nicky, when two people really love each other–”

“Agatha!” You cut her off, a blush rising to your cheeks. “We are not doing this right now.” 

Agatha pressed her lips into a thin line, clearly holding back a grin as she glanced over at your son, who didn’t seem very keen on learning about that just yet. “Right. That’s a story for another time.”

[satorulovebot]

THE GREAT WAR.

♱ genre. tragedy, WWI au, 18+

♱ summary. in the midst of world war I, satoru gojou drafted and sent off to the western front, leaving behind the love of his life with the promise of marrying her when he returned. he clings to the thoughts of a future with her and the letters she sends him in hopes of reuniting with her.

♱ pairings. satoru gojou, fem!reader

♱ word count. 8k

♱ tags/warnings. violence, suggestive content, major character death, profanity, mentions of drug use, weapon use, + more

♱ notes. this wasn't meant to be long or anything or fully fleshed out but i decided to share it anyways. i lowkey hate this but what can i say. i also made myself upset because of course i did. anyways likes and rb's always appreciated :)

December 1, 1917

My Dearest Love,

I hope my letter reaches you before we move further down the front and getting letters out becomes harder. I hope you’re sound asleep in our bed, enjoying dreamland with Charlie. 

I wanted to let you know that I think of you every day. I keep replaying our last night together in my mind. It was so precious, and I wish I could be there with you now. We talked about our future together. Even now, even here, I still dream of that future. It’s the only thing that keeps me going.

This war has shown me things I can’t forget, things I’ll never forget. I worry for Suguru too as he’s losing himself. Baby I can’t lie to you, it’s hard out here. If something happens to me and I don’t make it back, please remember how much I love you. I love you more than words can say. 

Please stay strong for me, my love. I’ll hold onto the hope that we’ll be together again someday.

With all my love,

Satoru

May 18, 1917

The radio crackles faintly as you twist the dial, trying to find the right station. The sound of distorted voices filled the small living room of your home. You are sitting on the worn couch that you and Satoru had spent countless nights on, talking about everything and nothing. Satoru sits beside you with his arm draped over your shoulders, his hand resting on your upper arm, fingers tracing slow, absentminded circles on your skin. It’s a small gesture, one that he’s done a thousand times before, but tonight it feels… different.

You finally find the station you’ve been looking for, and the voice on the radio comes through, clear and steady.

“…the President has announced that the United States will be joining the war in Europe. All eligible men between the ages of 21 and 30 are to be drafted into military service…”

You freeze at the words, like a winter chill had seeped into your bones. You feel a sharp, involuntary intake of breath, your hand tightening around the knob of the radio as if holding on to it will somehow keep the world from spinning out of control.

“They’re really doing it,” he murmurs.

You swallow hard, your mouth suddenly dry, and force yourself to speak. “We talked about this, but…” The words feel strange on your tongue as if they belong to someone else. “Hearing it…hearing it makes it real.”

Satoru nods, but he doesn’t say anything.

Finally, he speaks, his voice barely more than a whisper. “What are we going to do?”

The question hangs in the air, unanswered, because you don’t know the answer. How could you? You want to say something, anything, to reassure him, to reassure yourself, but the words would not come. Instead, you reach for his hand, lacing your fingers with his, holding on as tightly as you can, as if it might somehow keep the world from falling apart.

Satoru’s grip tightens around yours, and for a moment, you can feel the fear in him, the uncertainty. You’ve always known him as strong and always in control, but now, in this moment, he’s just as lost as you are.

“We’ll figure it out, baby. I promise,” He whispered.

Satoru pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around you as you buried your face in his chest. You breathed in the familiar scent of him, trying to memorize every detail as if it was the last time you would ever get to hold him like this. His lips press against the top of your head, a gentle, lingering kiss that speaks of promises made and promises that will be broken.

June 3, 1917

Tomorrow is the day that Satoru is set to leave for the Western front.

The golden light of the late afternoon filtered through the windows, casting long, melancholy shadows across the bedroom. It was a room you had filled with so many memories—laughter, love, late-night conversations that had lasted until the early hours of the morning. But now, the only thing that seemed to be there was a half-packed duffel bag lying open on the bed.

You stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame, watching as Satoru moved about the room gathering the the last couple of items he would need. He was quiet the entire time he packed his bags. You could see the way his shoulders were stiff and the subtle tremor in his hands as he reached for another piece of clothing.

Between the two of you, Satoru had always been the strong one. The one who could face anything with a smile, it was the thing that had drawn you to him in the first place.

“You don’t have to do this alone,” you said softly, your voice barely more than a whisper.

He paused at the sound of your voice, his hands hovering over the duffel bag. Slowly, he turned to face you, His eyes met yours, and in them, you saw the fear he was trying so hard to hide.

“I don’t know how to do this,” Satoru finally admitted, his voice rough, like it had been scraped raw from holding back so much. “I don’t know how to leave you.”

His confession broke something inside of you like a dam of emotions had finally been let loose. Before you knew it, you were across the room, wrapping your arms around him as tightly as you could, burying your face in his chest. His arms came around you instantly, pulling you close, holding on as if you were the only thing keeping him grounded.

“You don’t have to be strong all the time,” you whispered. “Not with me.”

“I’m scared,” he admitted, the words muffled against your hair. “I’m so scared, and I hate that I’m leaving you and Charlie like this.”

Your heart ached at his words. It was a side of him he rarely showed anyone, even you.  You pulled back just enough to look up at him, your hands cupping his face, your thumbs brushing away the tears that had begun to fall.

“I’m scared too.”

“Do you remember the first time we talked about the war?” Satoru asked suddenly.

You nodded, remembering the day that the news had broke about the conflict in Europe. It was just another story on the radio, something that had felt so far away. The two of you had been sitting in the same room, listening to the same radio, with your hands entwined talking about the life you wanted to build together.

“It felt like something that could never touch us. Like it was happening in another world, to people we’d never know.”

Satoru sighed, “And now, it’s all too real.”

When you looked up at him, you could see the same look in his eyes that you had seen when the draft letter first arrived.

You felt your tears start to fall as you reached up to touch his face, your fingers tracing the familiar lines of his features, trying to commit them to memory. “So do I,” you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. “But no matter what happens, I’ll be here when you come back. I’ll be waiting for you.”

​​Satoru closed his eyes, leaning into your touch. I’m going to miss you so much,” he murmured. “Every single day.”

You pulled him down into a kiss, slow and lingering, pouring all of your love, your fear, your hope into that one moment, trying to convey everything you couldn’t put into words. Satoru’s hands came up to cup your face, his lips moving against yours with a desperation that made your heart ache once more.

“I love you,” you could hear him say as he continued to latch his mouth onto yours. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

Without breaking the kiss, Satoru guided you towards the bed, his hands moving to your waist as he lifted you, laying you down gently on the mattress. The duffel bag was pushed to the side, forgotten for now, as he climbed on top of you, his body pressing down against yours, relishing the taste of his buttery lips on yours.

June 4, 1917

“Are you ready?” His voice broke the silence.

You turned to face him, your throat tight with the words you wanted to say but couldn’t find. Instead, you nodded, though nothing about you felt ready—least of all your heart.

Satoru approached you slowly as if he wasn’t sure how to comfort you without breaking down. His warm hand reached out and cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing away the tear you didn’t realize had fallen.

“You know I have to do this,” he said, his voice soft. “It’s my duty. I can’t—”

“Please don’t go,” you interrupted, the words spilling out before you could stop them. Your voice cracked, you were desperate to make him stay. You knew you were asking the impossible, that no matter how much you begged, he couldn’t stay. But the thought of losing him, of not knowing if he would ever come back, was too much to bear.

He pulled you into his arms, holding you close as if he could shield you from the reality you had both come to face.

“I wish I could stay,” he murmured against your hair. “More than anything, I wish I could stay here with you. But I have to go. I have to.”

You clung to him, your fingers gripping the fabric of his uniform as if you could keep him there, with you, if you just held on tight enough. “But what if you don’t come back? What if—”

“I will come back.” He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, the look almost pleading. “I promise you, baby, I will come back. And when I do, I’m going to marry you, and we’ll have that life we always talked about. We’ll have a family, a home...everything.”

“What if something happens?” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “What if—”

“Hey,” Satoru’s voice was gentle, and soothing, as he cupped your face in both hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears that were now streaming down your cheeks. “Nothing’s going to happen to me. I’ll be careful, I’ll keep my head down, and I’ll come back to you. I promise.”

His words were meant to comfort you, but they only made the pain worse. Because deep down, no matter how much he promised, there was no guarantee that he would come back. But you couldn’t bring yourself to say that. So instead, you nodded, forcing yourself to believe, if only for his sake. “Promise me you’ll write,” you said, your voice trembling. “Every chance you get.”

“I will,” he assured you, his eyes never leaving yours. “Every chance I get, I’ll write to you. And I want you to write to me too, okay? Tell me everything, don’t leave anything out. I want to know everything that’s going on with you, no matter how small it might seem.”

You nodded again, a small, shaky smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “I will. I promise.”

Satoru sighed, his breath warm against your skin as he pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead. “I have to go.”

You didn’t trust yourself to speak, so you just nodded, swallowing hard against the lump in your throat. Satoru gave you one last, long look as if trying to memorize every detail of your face before he finally turned and picked up his duffel bag.

You walked the man you love to the door, your steps were slow, each one feeling like a goodbye. When you reached the threshold, Satoru stopped, turning to face you one last time. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you whispered, your voice breaking.

He leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss that was full of everything you couldn’t say—fear, hope, love, and the desperate need to hold on to this moment, to him, for as long as you could. When he finally pulled away, you could see the tears in his eyes, tears he was trying so hard to hold back.

“I’ll see you soon.”

And then he was gone, walking out the door and down the path that led to the street, where a car was waiting to take him to the docks. You stood in the doorway, watching as he walked away. When he reached the car, he turned back one last time, raising his hand in a small wave, a sad smile on his lips.

You raised your hand in return, your vision blurred by tears, your body shaking with the force of the sobs you were holding back. And then he was gone, the car driving away, taking him further and further from you, until he was just a speck on the horizon, and then nothing at all.

Finally, when you couldn’t stand it any longer, you sank to the floor, your body shaking with sobs that you could no longer hold back. You cried for what felt like an eternity with Charlie at your side, your tears soaking into the wood beneath you, your cries echoing in the empty house. 

When you finally had no tears left, when your body was too exhausted to cry anymore, you lay there, curled up on the floor, clutching the memory of Satoru close to your heart, the only thing you had left of him.

“I’ll be waiting for you,” you whispered into the silence, your voice hoarse from crying. “No matter how long it takes, I’ll be here when you come back.”

September 7, 1917

My Dearest Satoru,

I hope this letter finds you safe and well. I wish more than anything that I could be there with you, to hold your hand and tell you that everything will be okay. But since I can’t, I’m sending you all the love I have, wrapped up in these words.

Life here is quiet without you. The days seem longer, and the nights feel emptier, but I’m doing my best to keep busy. I’ve been tending to our plants you always loved, you won’t believe how much they’ve grown! The roses have bloomed beautifully this year, and I think of you every time I see them. I imagine you coming home and us standing together in the kitchen, just like we used to, with Charlie at our feet.

Speaking of Charlie, he’s been such a comfort to me in your absence. He’s still the same playful pup, always chasing his tail and trying to catch the birds that come too close. But I think he misses you just as much as I do. Sometimes, he will sit by the door, staring out as if he is waiting for you to walk through it. I take him on long walks, and every time we pass by the places we used to go together, he pulls at the leash, looking around as if he expects to see you there. I can’t help but smile and cry a little at the same time. He’s such a good dog, Satoru, and I know he’ll be so happy to see you when you come home.

I dream about the day you’ll come home, the day we’ll finally be together again. I dream of the life we’ll have, the family we’ll build, all the things we talked about before you left. And until that day comes, I’ll be here, waiting for you, loving you with everything I have. I’ll keep writing to you, and I hope that these letters bring you some comfort, some reminder of the life waiting for you here.

Please take care of yourself, Satoru. Stay safe, stay strong, and know that I’m counting down the days until you return. I love you more than words can say, and I’m so proud of you. Come back to us soon.

With all my love,

Y/N

October 12, 1917

The train clacked along the tracks, the noise doing little to soothe the nerves of the men inside. Satoru was sat by the window, his thoughts a thousand miles away.

Satoru’s hand slipped into his pocket, fingers closing around the worn edges of a small, creased photograph. He pulled it out, his eyes softening as he looked at the image of the woman who had captured his heart. Your eyes held all the warmth of a summer day, and your smile—oh, that smile—was the beacon that guided him. He could almost hear your voice, talking about the latest gossip or news.

As the train jolted along the tracks, Satoru’s thoughts drifted back to the last time he had seen you, the way you had clung to him, the way your tears soaked his uniform as you begged him not to go.

A soft voice broke through his reverie, pulling him back to the present. “Is that your wife?”

Satoru glanced up to see the soldier sitting next to him, a young man barely out of his teens, with wide, innocent eyes. He was looking at the photograph in Satoru’s hand with curiosity.

Satoru managed a small, bittersweet smile, his thumb brushing over the face of the woman in the photograph. “No,” he replied softly. “We never got the chance to marry.”

The young soldier’s brows furrowed slightly in confusion. “Why not? If you don’t mind me asking.”

Satoru sighed, leaning back against the hard, uncomfortable seat. His gaze drifted back to the photograph. “I was going to,” he began, his voice distant as he spoke, almost as if he were talking more to himself than to the young soldier beside him. “We talked about it, even picked out a date... But then the war came, and everything changed. I didn’t want to leave her, but there wasn’t enough time.”

He paused, his eyes clouding with the memories of that fateful day. The tears in your eyes as you pleaded with him to stay to marry you. But he had refused, not because he didn’t want to, but because he couldn’t bear the thought of leaving you a widow, of making you wait for a man who might never come back. It had been the hardest decision of his life, and now, as he sat on this train bound for the front lines, he wondered if he had made the right one.

“She must be something special,” he said quietly.

“She is,” Satoru replied, his voice softening as he thought of you. “She’s everything. The strongest, most loving person I’ve ever known. She’s the reason I’m doing this, the reason I’m still standing.”

He fell silent, his mind drifting back to the countless nights the two of you had spent talking about your future. You had dreamed of growing old together, maybe moving out to the countryside and live in a little house.

“What’s her name?” the young soldier asked, his voice pulling Satoru back from his thoughts.

“Y/N,” Satoru said softly, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he spoke your name. “She’s waiting for me to come back.”

“You’ll make it back to her. I know you will.”

Satoru nodded, though deep down, he wasn’t so sure. 

The train jerked to a stop, the shrill whistle signaling their arrival at the next station. The soldiers began to stand, gathering their gear as they prepared to disembark. Satoru carefully folded the photograph and slipped it back into his pocket, close to his heart, where it belonged.

​​As he stepped off the train, the cold air hit him like a slap in the face. The station was a bleak and desolate place filled with soldiers. Satoru pulled his coat tighter around him, his eyes scanning the crowd, searching for something, anything, that would remind him of home.

But there was nothing.

He glanced back at the train, at the young soldier who had spoken to him. Their eyes met for a brief moment, then the young soldier raised his hand and, in a small almost hesitant wave said, “Take care of yourself!”

Satoru nodded, though he couldn’t bring himself to say the words in return. He turned and began walking, the weight of his rifle heavy on his shoulder.

The journey to the front lines was grueling, to put it lightly. It was something that tested the physical and mental limits of every man in the company. The landscape was a reflection of the war: the fields now lay barren, scarred by craters and the remnants of past battles. Trees stood like charred skeletons against the gray sky, their branches reaching out like twisted fingers. It was a place that seemed to exist outside of time, where the seasons had no hold.

Satoru walked near the front of the column, though his thoughts were universes away. He had stopped trying to make sense of the war around him, instead, his mind clung to the thought of his girlfriend and his home. Every so often, his hand would drift to his pocket, where the photograph of his beloved remained safely tucked away. It was his anchor, the one thing that kept him grounded in a world that seemed to have lost all meaning.

Throughout the journey, there were brief breaks from the march. Moments where men could catch their breath and rest their sore legs. During these breaks, the sliders would drop to the ground wherever they could find space. Some lit cigarettes, the tiny glowing embers flickering in the dim light, while others simply stared into the distance.

Satoru usually found a spot a little apart from the others, leaning against the trunk of a withered tree or sitting on a flat rock. Once on a break, the company rested by the narrow road that cut through a ruined village. Satoru found himself staring at the crumbling remains of a church. The steeple had collapsed, the once-proud structure now reduced to a pile of rubble. A few scattered graves dotted the ground nearby, their markers leaning at odd angles as if they, too, had given up the fight against the ravages of war.

He was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of voices approaching from down the road. Another company was making its way toward them, the soldiers’ weary faces reflecting the same one that Satoru saw on his men. 

Satoru glanced around, his gaze sweeping over the unfamiliar faces. Most of the men looked just as worn and weary as his own comrades, their uniforms stained with mud. But then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a figure that made him pause, his heart skipping a beat. 

It couldn’t be—but it was.

Suguru Getou stood a little apart from the rest of his company, his back against the remnants of a low stone wall. He was staring off into the distance, seemingly unaware of the world around him, lost in thoughts that Satoru could only guess at. His face was thinner than Satoru remembered, his features more drawn, but there was no mistaking those sharp, dark eyes, or the way his long, black hair fell in loose strands around his face.

For a moment, Satoru was frozen in place. He hadn’t seen Suguru since before the war before they had been sent away from their families and to different parts of the front. Suguru had been sent to the front lines before Satoru did and Satoru had often wondered if he was even still alive, if he had somehow managed to survive on the front lines. 

Now, seeing him here, in the flesh, was both a shock and a relief.

“Suguru,” Satoru called out, his voice breaking the silence between them.

Suguru’s head snapped up, his eyes narrowing as they focused on Satoru. For a moment, there was no recognition in his gaze, just the cold, hard stare of a soldier who had seen too much. But then something shifted in Suguru’s expression, and his eyes softened, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Satoru, you bastard,” Suguru replied, pushing himself away from the wall and making his way over to where Satoru stood. There was a moment of hesitation as if they weren’t quite sure how to greet each other after all this time, but then Satoru reached out and clapped a hand on Suguru’s shoulder.

“Still alive, huh?”

“Barely. It’s good to see you, Satoru.”

“And you,” Satoru said.

Suguru’s gaze then drifted to the photograph clutched in Satoru’s hand. “Is that her?” he asked quietly, nodding toward the picture.

Satoru followed his gaze, his expression softening as he looked down at the image of the woman he loved. “Yeah,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “She’s the one keeping me sane out here.”

Suguru nodded, his expression unreadable as he looked at the photograph. “You’re lucky, you know,” he said after a moment. “Not everyone has someone to go home to.”

“And you? How are you holding up?”

Suguru shrugged. “I’m still here,” he said simply. “That’s all that matters, right?”

Satoru wanted to say something, to offer some kind of comfort or reassurance, but the words wouldn’t come. What could he say that would make any of this easier? What could he offer that would ease the burden they both carried?

After a while, the call to move out came, and the soldiers began to gather their gear, preparing to resume their march to the front lines.

“Take care of yourself, Suguru.”

“And you, Satoru,” Suguru replied, his expression softening for just a moment. “We’ll see each other again. We have to.”

As the two companies parted ways, Satoru glanced back one last time, watching as Suguru’s figure grew smaller and smaller in the distance. He slipped the photograph back into his pocket, his fingers lingering on it for just a moment too long.

December 1, 1917

The trenches were a whole other world themselves. They were a labyrinth of mud, blood, and despair that stretched across the landscape like a festering wound. Satoru had been there for weeks now, but time had lost all meaning. Day and night blurred together into an endless cycle of fear and exhaustion. The air was thick with the stench of death and decay, a sickly smell that clung to everything, seeping into the very pores of his skin. 

Satoru had never imagined that war could be like this. He had heard stories, of course—everyone had—but nothing could have prepared him for the reality of life in the trenches. The constant threat of death, the gnawing hunger—it was a living nightmare, a hell on earth from which there was no escape.

He had lost count of how many men had fallen, their bodies left to rot in the no man's land between the trenches. Friends, comrades, men he had shared laughs and meals with—they were all gone now, their lives snuffed out in an instant by a stray bullet or a well-placed shell. And with each death, a piece of Satoru died with them, his heart growing harder, his soul more numb.

At first, he tried to keep up the letters, pouring his thoughts and fears into the carefully penned words he sent back to you. He had written about the camaraderie among the men, the small moments of joy they found amid the horror, and the hope that one day, this war would end and they would be together again. He had clung to that hope, letting it buoy him up when the darkness threatened to swallow him whole.

But as the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, the words had become harder and harder to find. What could he possibly say to her now, after all he had seen, after all he had done? How could he put into words the horrors that haunted his every waking moment, the nightmares that chased him even in the few moments of sleep he managed to get?

He had started a dozen letters, each one more difficult than the last. He would sit in the dim light of the trench, his hands trembling as he tried to hold the pen steady, the paper before him smudged with dirt and blood. But the words wouldn’t come. Every time he tried to write, the memories would flood back—images of shattered bodies, of men screaming in pain, of the deafening roar of the guns that never seemed to stop. And then he would see your face, smiling up at him from the photograph he kept tucked inside his jacket, and the guilt would crash over him like a wave, drowning him in its icy grip.

How could he write to her about any of this? How could he tell her about the nightmares that kept him awake at night, the fear that gnawed at his insides like a rabid dog? How could he explain that he wasn’t the same man who had left her behind all those months ago, that the war had changed him in ways he could never have imagined?

Satoru had never felt so alone.

The men around him were suffering just as he was, but there was a wall between them now, an invisible barrier that kept him apart from the others. They still laughed, still shared stories and jokes to pass the time, but Satoru found himself withdrawing more and more, retreating into the silence of his own mind. He couldn’t bring himself to join in their conversations, couldn’t find the strength to pretend that everything was okay when nothing was okay.

It was during one of these quiet moments, when the guns had fallen that Satoru found himself staring at the photograph again. He traced the outline of your face with his thumb, the edges of the picture worn and frayed from being handled so often. You looked so happy, so full of life—everything that he wasn’t anymore. He wondered if she would even recognize him when this was all over if he ever made it out of this hell alive.

The thought made his chest tighten, a sharp pain stabbing through his heart. What if he didn’t make it back? What if this was where his story ended, in a cold, muddy trench on the other side of the world? Would she remember him as the man he used to be, or would she forget him altogether, moving on with her life as if he had never existed?

He shoved the photograph back into his pocket, the thoughts too painful to bear. He needed to write to her, to tell her how much he loved her, how much he missed her, but the words refused to come. The pen felt heavy in his hand, the paper staring back at him like an accusation.

The sound of footsteps approaching pulled him from his thoughts, and he looked up to see one of the other soldiers, a young man named Thomas, standing over him. Thomas had joined their company a few weeks ago, fresh-faced and full of energy, but the war had already taken its toll on him. His eyes were sunken, his cheeks hollow, and there was a haunted look in his gaze that Satoru recognized all too well.

“Hey,” Thomas said, his voice rough from disuse. “You alright, Satoru?”

Satoru nodded, though he didn’t trust himself to speak. He knew that if he opened his mouth, the words that would spill out would be anything but alright.

Thomas glanced down at the paper in Satoru’s lap, the empty lines stark against the dirty page. “Having trouble writing?”

Satoru sighed, running a hand through his tangled hair. “Yeah,” he admitted. “I don’t know what to say anymore.”

“It’s hard,” he said quietly. “Hard to find the words when everything around you is…” He trailed off, gesturing vaguely at the trench, at the world beyond it. “But maybe it doesn’t have to be about all this,” he continued after a moment. “Maybe just…tell her you miss her. Tell her you’re thinking about her. Sometimes, that’s enough.”

“I don’t know if I can,” Satoru whispered.

Thomas crouched down beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You can,” he said firmly. “You have to. For her. For you.”

He knew Thomas was right—he had to find the strength to write to her, to keep that connection alive, no matter how difficult it was. Because if he lost that, if he let the war take that from him too, there would be nothing left.

With a deep breath, Satoru picked up the pen again, his hand still trembling. He stared at the blank page for a long moment, his thoughts a jumble of emotions and memories, before finally, the words began to flow.

They weren’t perfect, and they certainly didn’t capture everything he was feeling, but they were honest. He wrote about how much he missed her, how he thought of her every day, and how the memory of her smile was the only thing keeping him sane. He told her about the men he was serving with, about the small moments of kindness and he told her that no matter how dark things got, he would find his way back to her.

By the time he finished, his hand was aching, and the paper was smudged with dirt and sweat, but the weight on his chest had lifted just a little. It wasn’t much, but it was enough.

The war had taken so much from him, had stripped him of his innocence, his peace of mind, and so many of the men he had called friends. But it hadn’t taken her. Not yet.

And as long as he had her, as long as there was still a chance that he could hold her in his arms again, he would keep fighting. He would keep going, one day at a time, one step at a time, until this nightmare was over.

Because he had to believe that there was still a future out there, a future where the two of them could be together, away from the mud and the blood and the death. A future where they could build the life they had dreamed of, where he could make good on all the promises he had whispered to her in the dark.

Satoru clutched the letter to his chest for a moment, closing his eyes and letting himself imagine that future—a small house, a warm fire, your laughter filling the air. It was a dream, maybe a foolish one, but it was all he had left to hold on to.

When he finally opened his eyes, the trench seemed a little less dark, the air a little less suffocating. And for the first time in what felt like forever, Satoru allowed himself to believe that he would make it through this, that he would survive this war and return to the woman he loved.

December 25, 1917

My Dearest Satoru,

Merry Christmas, my love. I wish I could say that it feels like the holiday season here, but without you by my side, it all seems so different. The tree in the living room is smaller this year, just a simple little thing I picked up from the market. I decorated it with the old ornaments we’ve collected over the years, though they don’t shine as brightly without you here to admire them.

Charlie and I spent the day together. He’s grown so much since you last saw him, you wouldn’t believe it! He still waits by the door every evening, his ears perked up like he’s expecting you to walk through any moment. I think he misses you almost as much as I do. We went for a long walk this morning, just the two of us. The air was crisp and cold, and there was a light dusting of snow on the ground. It reminded me of the first Christmas we spent together when you insisted on making snow angels and pulling me into that ridiculous snowball fight. I laughed so hard that day, and I haven’t laughed quite the same way since you left.

I cooked a small dinner tonight—nothing fancy, just some of your favorite dishes. I set a place for you at the table, even though I knew you wouldn’t be there to fill it. I like to think that, wherever you are, you can feel the warmth of home and know that you’re always in my thoughts. The house is quiet now, almost too quiet. I find myself talking to you sometimes, as if you were still here with me, sitting in your favorite chair with that mischievous smile of yours. I can almost hear your voice, teasing me, comforting me, telling me that everything will be alright.

But it’s hard, Satoru. It’s so hard being here without you, especially on days like this when the world seems so full of love and joy, and all I can think about is how much I miss you. I try to be strong, for you, for us, but there are moments when the loneliness is overwhelming. I lie awake at night, staring at the ceiling, wondering where you are if you’re safe if you’re thinking of me as much as I’m thinking of you.

I know I shouldn’t burden you with my worries, especially when you’re facing so much over there. But I promised you that I would always be honest with you, and the truth is my love, I miss you more than words can say. I miss your laughter, your touch, the way you would pull me close when the world felt too big and frightening. I miss the sound of your voice, the warmth of your arms around me, the simple comfort of knowing that you were near.

I don’t know what this Christmas is like for you, if you’ve had a moment of peace, or if the war continues to rage on, even on this holy day. But I want you to know that I’m here, waiting for you, loving you with all my heart.

Until that day comes, I’ll hold on to the memories we’ve made, and I’ll keep you in my heart, always. I’ll keep sending you my love, in every letter, in every thought, in every prayer. And I’ll be here, waiting for the day when you come home to me.

Merry Christmas, Satoru. I love you more than words could ever express.

Yours always and forever,

Y/N

January 1918

The flickering light of the oil lamp cast shadows on the rough, earthen walls of the trench as Satoru unfolded the letter with trembling hands. The cold bit at his fingers, but the warmth of her words was all he felt. He leaned back against the wooden planks, his breath visible in the frigid air, and began to re

He could almost see her, sitting by the small tree, Charlie at her feet, the house filled with the scent of pine and home-cooked food. The image was so vivid that he could hear the crackle of the fire, feel the softness of your hand in his, and taste the warmth of the cocoa you always made too sweet.

When he finished the letter, he folded it carefully, placing it back into the envelope before tucking it into his jacket, close to his heart. He closed his eyes and rested his head against the wall, trying to hold on to the image of her, of home, for just a little longer.

"Someday," he whispered to himself, "I’ll go back to you."

But that "someday" felt so far away.

Satoru was exhausted. He was so exhausted. And despite the cold and the ever-present danger, Satoru found himself drifting off to sleep. He dreamed of you and Charlie, of a small house and a garden, a real one, and maybe a little one.

But that dream was shattered all too quickly.

The ground shook violently, and Satoru was yanked from his sleep by the deafening roar of artillery fire. The once-peaceful night had erupted into chaos. He scrambled to his feet, the world around him a blur of noise and confusion. Mud and debris rained down as shells exploded nearby, turning the trench into a hellscape of smoke and fire.

"Satoru! Get up!" A voice yelled from somewhere in the darkness, but it was nearly drowned out by the barrage.

His heart raced as he grabbed his rifle, instincts taking over. The letter, the warmth of her words, the image of her waiting for him—all of it was shoved to the back of his mind as survival became his only focus. He could barely see through the smoke, but he knew what was coming.

"Over the top! They’re coming!"

Satoru fought desperately alongside his comrades. The world had become a blur of smoke, fire, and the metallic scent of blood. He barely felt the cold anymore—only the burning need to survive, to push through the horror and get back to the life he had left behind.

But even as he fired his rifle, the enemy pushing ever closer, a gnawing fear settled deep in his chest. It wasn’t the fear of dying, though that was always there, lurking beneath the surface. It was the fear of breaking his promise to her, of never seeing her again, never holding her in his arms, never telling her one last time how much he loved her.

Suddenly, a blinding light flashed to his right—a mortar shell exploding far too close. The force of it threw him to the ground, his head slamming against the hard earth. Everything went dark for a moment, and when he opened his eyes, the world was spinning. He could barely hear over the ringing in his ears, his vision blurry as he struggled to push himself up.

But before he could regain his bearings, he felt a sharp pain in his side, followed by a searing heat that spread across his body. He looked down, his hand coming away sticky with blood. Panic surged through him as he realized the wound was deep, too deep.

"Satoru!" someone shouted, but it felt distant as if it were coming from another world.

He tried to move, tried to fight, but his body wouldn’t respond. His strength was draining away, the edges of his vision darkening as the pain grew overwhelming. He reached for the photo in his pocket, fumbling with weak fingers until he could pull it out. The edges were crumpled, dirtied from being carried with him through every battle, but her face was still there, smiling up at him.

"I’m sorry baby…" he whispered, his voice barely audible over the sounds of battle. He wasn’t sure if the words were meant for her or himself, but they were all he could manage.

As he lay there, the sounds of war fading into the background, another soldier—a younger man from his company—dropped to his knees beside Satoru. The man was injured, blood seeping from a wound in his leg, but his focus was entirely on Satoru.

"No… no, no, no," the soldier muttered, his voice choked with panic. He saw the wound, saw the blood, and knew there was nothing he could do. "Satoru, stay with me, please!"

Satoru’s grip on the photo loosened, and the young soldier gently took it from him, his hands shaking. He saw the woman in the picture, the one Satoru had talked about so often, and his heart sank. "Is… is this her?"

Satoru nodded weakly, the effort taking everything he had left. He tried to speak, to say her name, to tell the soldier to take care of her, but the words wouldn’t come. His chest felt tight, every breath a struggle.

"Don’t worry, I’ll… I’ll make sure she knows," the soldier promised, though his voice cracked with the weight of it. He fumbled with Satoru’s jacket, pulling out the dog tags, and pressed them into his own pocket, along with the photo. "I’ll tell her… everything."

Satoru’s vision darkened further, the world slipping away from him. All he could see was her face, all he could think about was the future they had dreamed of. But that future was fading, slipping through his fingers like sand.

"I’m sorry," he whispered one last time before the darkness took him completely.

Weeks passed, though they felt like an eternity. The war continued on, but Satoru’s company was eventually pulled back from the front lines, many of them injured, exhausted, or worse. The young soldier who had taken Satoru’s photo was among those who were discharged, his leg injury severe enough to send him home. But the physical pain was nothing compared to the weight he carried in his heart.

When the company finally reached the docks, it was a scene of bittersweet reunions. Families and loved ones gathered, waiting anxiously for a glimpse of their soldiers. You were among them, your heart pounding in your chest as you scanned the crowd, searching desperately for Satoru’s familiar face.

But you couldn’t find him.

The minutes dragged on, and panic began to set in. Where was he? Had something happened? You tried to reassure yourself, telling yourself that he would appear any moment, that he was just delayed, that everything was fine.

Then you saw a man hobbling toward you on crutches, his face pale and drawn. You recongnized the man as in the letters Satoru had described him as a friend, a comrade. But where was Satoru? Why wasn’t he with him?

Your breath caught in your throat as the soldier stopped in front of you, his eyes filled with a sorrow that made your blood run cold. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the crumpled photograph, the one you had given to Satoru before he left. And then, with trembling hands, he held out Satoru’s dog tags.

"I’m so sorry," the soldier said, his voice barely more than a whisper. "He… he didn’t make it."

The world around you seemed to crumble, the ground shifting beneath your feet as the words sank in. You stared at the photo, and the dog tags, unable to comprehend what he was saying. It couldn’t be true. Satoru had promised you. He had promised he would come back.

"No…" The word fell from your lips, your voice breaking as tears welled up in your eyes. "No, he… he promised…"

The soldier reached out, placing a hand on your shoulder, but the gesture did nothing to comfort you. "He loved you so much," he said softly, his own eyes filling with tears. "He… he talked about you all the time. Right up until…"

You didn’t let him finish. The pain in your chest was too much to bear, and the sobs broke free, your body shaking as you clutched the photograph to your chest. The world around you blurred, the sounds of the docks fading away as all you could think about was him—his smile, his laugh, the way he had held you that last night before he left.

He was gone. Satoru was gone.

The soldier stayed with you, his own heart breaking as he watched you fall to your knees, your cries of grief echoing through the crowd. But there was nothing he could do, nothing anyone could do to ease the pain of your loss.

And so the war took one more life, one more love story cut short by the horrors of battle. The future you had dreamed of, the life you had planned, was gone—lost in the mud and blood of a distant country.

All that remained were memories and the cold, hard reality that he would never come home to you.

© satorulovebot 2024 please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my work.

[fairysluna]

Helloooo, thanks for sharing your writing with us, I love all of your fics specially sinners 🤍🧸⭐️

For the short drabbles could you do Maegor + asking for his niece’s favor at a tourney

this is such a cute idea! i love this so much. Also, thank you for your kind words, I hope you like this🤍✨

tags — fluff, rhaena being lowkey a hater, reader being delulu (like all of us).

The way the whole crowd roared with excitement when the royal prince came out victorious from the tournament was deafening. You were laughing excitedly, clapping as your smile couldn't get any bigger. Eyes shining as bright as stars at midnight as you watched your beloved uncle smiling back at you from afar. Your beloved older sister, Rhaena, was sitting next to you wearing an unfazed expression on her face, completely opposite to the cheerful attitude you had.

From your seat, you saw Maegor galloping slowly towards the royal family, wearing that winning smile that you loved so dearly as he rested his lance against his shoulder. The butterflies that appeared on your belly were hard to ignore when he started to get closer and closer to you. You fixed your hair, nervously played with your fingers and impatiently waited for him to get close enough to hear his voice. At your side, your sister scoffed, already annoyed by your attitude towards your uncle, with whom you wished to marry; she had heard all of it, and she was tired of hearing that man's name coming from your lips.

But you couldn't care less about it.

Your attention was all over the man on the horse in front of you, standing proudly and looking so gallant inside that thick metal armor of his, you couldn't help but to bite your lip before he decided to open his mouth and say, “May I have the honor to ask for the princess' favor?” He didn't even have to specify which princess he was talking about, for every single person knew he meant you. They all certainly knew about the close relationship you had with him.

You slowly arose from your seat, taking with you the crown of flowers that you made early that morning, especially for him. You walked closer to the railing and looked down at him, feeling the air getting caught in your throat as you saw him more up close. He removed the helmet of his armor, wanting to look into your pretty eyes before he uttered the next words. “I'm convinced that everytime the sun rises you become far more beautiful, my princess.” He spoke slightly lower, as if he wanted just you to hear. You couldn't help but to feel suddenly shy under his mischievous stare, the heat on your cheeks growing as you tried to look away from him.

“You flatter me, uncle,” you replied, managing to throw the crown of flowers down the lance. “I feel like the most beautiful maiden in the Seven Kingdoms whenever you speak with such kindness to me.”

“Well, you are, my dear.” He winked at you. “Before I leave, allow me to remind you that this victory, as well as the ones that are yet to come, are dedicated to you. My beautiful princess.” A silly, enamored smile was drawn on your lips as he turned around in his black horse and galloped away from you. He made you feel all kinds of things in such a little amount of time, including a strange, new sensation located in your lower belly which you decided it was best to ignore.

Once you returned to your seat, you found your sister staring at you with a visible frown on her face. “Could you be any more obvious? You left a path of your drool behind you.”

“I will marry him someday,” you told her, your voice filled with the purest of illusions.

Rhaena could only roll her eyes.

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[definitelynotafurinasimp]

Hii,do you mind if you make an scene where you and furina or any other characters fight and you ended up taking their cuddling privilege through the rest of the day? Thanks!!

Them taking away your cuddle privileges after a fight

characters: Furina / Nilou x gn!reader (separate)

warnings: none

a/n: ....you know... reading through the request one last time before posting this, it looks like I may have misunderstood smth *slightly*.

I hope this is still fine! If you want me to write reader taking away their cuddling priviledges after all just request it again and I'll try to write it someday!

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Furina

“I’m nowhere clingy!”

You’d have to be either deaf, stupid or oblivious to an unhealthy degree to miss your cuddling privileges being revoked. Furina had not exactly been subtle when openly declaring it after all. And while she may not have mentioned cuddling specifically, not trusting herself to not blush like a little kid at just the mention of it, you felt confident in saying that she had delivered her message well enough for even the most tone-deaf idiot to understand.

And yet, the exact same accusation that you had half-jokingly thrown her way and that she had taken such great offense to, turned the next few days into some of the best entertainment you had experienced in recent memory. Seeing an former Archon act dignified while at the same time having to fight the obvious urge to hug you the moment you were behind closed doors, only to then turn around and act like her embargo on hugging and cuddling was punishing you, was funnier than any comedy a human could possibly ever pen.

“So… about our argument a few days ago.” Furina spoke up the moment you returned to the table with your cooking, forcing you to fight off the grin that was threatening to pop-up on your face.

“So, about our argument a few days ago”, you repeated her words, intentionally ending on a high note to leave her waiting for your next words, only to continue to set up the table in silence.

“Are you- I-” she eventually stuttered out, only to stop herself before she could embarrass herself further. Her cheeks glowing slightly red as she tried to regain her composure.

“Who knows, if you were to apologize for your groundless accusations a few days back right now, I might just forgive you”, Furina graciously offered with closed eyes, avoiding to look at you in the process.

All the better for you, or she might have noticed the wide grin that had finally broken out on your face. For a moment you considered her ‘offer’. Sure, you missed cuddling on the couch as well and weren’t exactly the biggest fan of keeping up these kind of games…. and yet seeing her continue to needlessly die on this hill that so obviously harmed her more than you was very amusing.

“Wow, really? That seems very nice of you”, you mused with a smile while filling her plate with a portion before doing the same for yours and sitting down opposite of her. “Bon Appetit!”

“Oh come on. Stop being so stubborn! I’ve even given you such a good opportunity to apologize!” Furina's dignified act crumbled right before your eyes as she started to sound more and more desperate. You could practically hear her begging you to be the bigger person, and yet being small felt surprisingly great.

And yet you eventually- FINALLY gave in, much to the relief of the person sitting in front of you. “I am so sorry for calling you clingy Furina. I now see that I was clearly in the wrong and the one actually fitting the description of ‘clingy’ was in fact me”, your apology came out with a… healthy amount of sarcasm, and yet it was more than enough for her.

“...I’ll forgive you. Since you were nice enough to cook for me today”, she declared.

“I know I might be overplaying my hand here, but would you be so kind as to indulge me in a bit of cuddling later on? I’ve simply had to go on without it for far too long.”

“YES- Sure”, Furina immediately jumped at your offer before quickly switching back to her usual act, a wide smile plastered on her face nonetheless as she looked down at the food in front of her.

“It looks delicious, bon appetit!”

Nilou 

While the two of you seemed to have quickly moved past your argument, spending time together as if nothing had happened and avoiding to even mention the subject again, it quickly dawned on you that while you had hoped this to be one of those arguments noone had to explicitly apologize for and that was simply forgotten the next day, the other party involved seemingly was of a different opinion.

Not that Nilou said anything, she greeted you with the same sweet smile before chatting and going on small walks through the bazaar with you in the same manner as on any day of the week. And yet, whenever you as much as tried to initiate any kind of physical contact, no matter if hand-holding or hugging and cuddling, she’d dodge as easily as she breathed. At first it seemed like nothing but a coincidence, but after the dozenth time even you realized something was wrong.

What followed was a days-long standoff. Both of you trying to make the other one crack before yourself, while retaining your sweet and unbothered facade, and while there were moments where you could have sworn to nearly see Nilou instinctively grab your hand, she always managed to stop herself before anything happened.

And while you certainly could have continued with the act for weeks to come, you eventually decided to be the bigger person. For the sake of putting this childish game of chicken behind, of course. And for no other reasons.

“Sure Nilou. You win”, you disrupted the silence that existed between the two of you while Nilou was in the process of adjusting her stage, her movement grinding to a halt as she began staring at you in confusion.

“I wasn’t aware we were playing something. Did you have fun?”

‘Not aware’ your a- 

“Mhm, I am sorry about the argument”, you cut off your thoughts, immediately earning yourself a tilt of her head. After all this time you knew her clueless act to be nothing but an act and yet, when she looked at you like this you nearly found yourself doubting it all over again.

“Oh that? That was a whole week ago, did it still bother you all this time?”, she asked before finally finishing putting down the pot of flowers, quickly making her way down from the stage to join you and shooting you a sweet smile. “Don’t worry, I forgive you. I also didn’t mean everything I’ve said.”

If Nilou hadn’t suddenly grabbed your hand and started pulling you along her daily routine, you might have almost rolled your eyes, instead you found yourself thanking Lesser Lord Kusanali that you were indeed correct about your theory.

Bye Bye childish standoff, welcome back cuddling privileges.

[kuronanox]

Serving royalty - Byakuya Kuchiki

(Your Name) had always been a servant, service girl and peasant all her life, her family was born from nothing and was doomed to serve the royals houses. That's all she knew, her dreams to become a shinigami were squashed, merely because she was weak and sheltered from the protection of the royals she served. She didn't hate her life, she just wish there was excitement in it.

"I wanna leave this place someday." (Your Name) tells another servant as they tended to the garden outside the Kuchiki manor. Fall had entered so the flowers were scattered all over the floor. With a broom she swept it into the grass.

"You don't like it here?"

"No, it's just... there's more to life than this. Who knows maybe if I make enough money I can leave and just go somewhere quiet and peaceful."

There was a silence between two of them as the other servant just simply said she loved being here because everything was provided for them.

(Your Name) kept her thoughts to herself, of course the other servants didn't think like her, she was a bit adventurous, the other girls didn't want to leave.

"Well it's just a dream. It's not like Kuchiki sama would let me." (Your Name) half hearty laughs walking away for her own space.

Kuchiki Byakuya, all the girls fawned over him. She thought he was good looking, apparently he was a widow. Although she never met the lady Hisana rumors said she was beautiful but always sick.

Byakuya always seemed cold to her, he would acknowledge their work with a few words but that was it.

"You have to serve dinner tonight!" One of the girls yelled to (Your Name) as they giggled and ran away.

She rolled her eyes, they hated this job mostly because it was rather awkward when dinner came.

Byakuya sister and him would sit and eat while being served. She liked Rukia, she was nice and humbled.

"Fine, but you guys have to prepare the food tonight!"

"Deal!" The other girls agreed.

Her mother always told her to wear appropriate clothes when serving the royal family, (Your Name) owned a few nice kimono but not nearly as fancy. Taking a deep breathe she took the trays of food from the other girls and softly called out from the other side of the door.

"Come." Byakuya says in a tired voice, the room was so silent (Your Name) seriously couldn't understand how Rukia could eat dinner like that most nights.

She gently opened the door and made sure to look anywhere but their eyes. With a tall posture and soft footsteps she placed Byakuya first and then went over to Rukias.

"No need to be so polite with me." Rukia smiles to (Your Name) as she silently blushes and shakes her head.

"I'm sorry Kuchiki San but that would be rude of me and against the rules." Rukia could only give her a friendly smile after and excused her.

"Kuchiki sama, I will be over to the next room if anything is needed." (Your Name) gesture to Byakuya as he nodded his head in approval.

Their dinner went smoothly and she only had to return twice to bring hot water for their tea, as far as she can tell the only conversation were held was that of the gotei 13 and about Rukia leaving to the human world for her friend Ichigo.

Byakuya was an observant man, he noticed that (Your Name) was the only servant to serve them of recent as the other girls would leave the job to her alone. She was quiet but he felt like there was a facade she let on, her hair flowing from her face as she bowed to them or when she slightly bent over to refill the tea pot.

He knew she had been living here for a few years and that her family had long passed away. Either way he acknowledged her hard work when all the other servants didn't want to do it or they were rather lazy. Byakuya saw the pattern of kimono that she wore, she had a selection of three and would alternate them when serving the family.

It made him realize the difference of their social status, when he could afford hundreds, she only owned three nice ones.

"You may be dismissed for the night." He tells (Your Name) as she came in for the last time to refill their tea.

(Your Name) seemed confused because they hadn't finished dinner and the room wasn't cleared. As she was about to open her mouth to protest that her job wasn't finished he silence her "You may retire for the rest of the night."

She took a look around not knowing how to go with the situation and she saw Rukia give her a smile "don't worry, we've notice your hard work, please take the rest of the night off."

A blush came to her face as she bowed deeply to Byakuya and to Rukia before leaving.

"Ehhh! You finished dinner already?" Some of the girls asked as she joined them in the common dining room.

"Yes Kuchiki sama insist I take the rest of the night off."

"What?! He's never told us that!" Some of them exclaimed a bit surprised as (Your Name) shrugged with a smug smile. "Haha, my hardwork has paid off!"

The rest of the night became peaceful as she sat outside to look at the sky, she could recall only being in Byakuya private corders a few times. He was sick, apparently really sick and had came down with a terrible fever. The medicine that was given to him was not working. Some of his advisors had spoke to Byakuya about a lady who use to work at the manor and how her medicine worked magic but she long passed leaving a daughter behind and that's how (Your Name) was brought to his corders

"You are requested to treat Kuchiki Sama fever." One of the advisor told her one night as she was already fast asleep but a concern grew on her as she quickly changed and followed to his room.

Byakuya was laying on the futon covered in sweat, his mouth slightly open and brows furrowed in pain.

"I need these herbs quickly." She told them as they went off to fetch the other servants to get them for her.

"Kuchiki sama is burning really bad, can we prepare him an ice bath?"

There was movement made from the captain as he covered his face from the light of the candle and he groaned "no ice bath." He weakly demanded as (Your Name) politely but sternly said that it would help a good amount until the herbs came in.

"Kuchiki sama, leaving lots of cold towels on your body would be ridiculous. Please listen to me."

Byakuya advisors made the choice for him as he grumbled out in pain not fully understanding the situation.

While that was happening she made the effort of crushing the herbs and brewing it into a tea.

"This will help Kuchiki sama."

After she placed him down gently and dried his body covered in water. And (Your Name) clearly tried not looking at the towel covering his special parts.

"drink this, it will make you feel better."

During that night she was told to stay there and tend to him all night. She wanted sleep, but was afraid of getting in trouble if she refused to stay.

Byakuya felt like he was floating but after falling asleep he awoke the next morning feeling tremendously better. The towel on his forehead fell onto his lap as he looked around the room.

(Your Name) was curled a few feet away from him in a ball next to the water bowel and herbal tea.

A sense of guilt came over him as he saw she was painting a picture of something but the lines gradually became messy as if she was trying to fight sleep.

That was when he first noticed her.

"I thought I ordered you to rest." His chilling voice says from behind her as she quickly sat up to face Byakuya who had no emotion on his face. At least she couldn't read his thoughts.

She couldn't read if he was angry at her but she bowed her head down and apologized.

"I'm sorry Kuchiki sama, the outside air isn't as suffocating. It's nice for some fresh air once in a while." (Your Name) explains giving them a bit of space between them as Byakuya says nothing and motions for her to sit back down next to him.

She hesitated before looking at him in the face and then away, he was waiting for her to make a move. Clearing her throat she sat down next to him and relaxed a bit.

Many questions were going through her head as Byakuya was silent watching the cherry blossoms fall.

"You've been working really hard, thank you." He tells her after a while as she looks down in embarrassment. (Your Name) didn't think he ever noticed her.

"Thank you, I try my best."

"Although, your painting needs some work." Byakuya slightly teased at her with a half smirk as she gasped and tried hard not to look at him in the face. She wanted to look so bad but didn't want to come off rude.

"It's okay to acknowledge me." Byakuya then tells her as she looked back to him as he stared down to (Your Name). He was right, the moonlight shining down made her look even more pretty.

"I feel like this is the most I've ever heard you speak before." She laughs a little hiding her mouth as his eyes widen from shock. "I'm no artist, I merely was trying to past time when you were ill."

He smirks again, Byakuya knew she wasn't at all reserved.

"Allow me to teach you." He then offered as a way to get to know her better without actually selling himself out. There was a silence for a while before she spoke.

"I would love to, but I don't think it would be appropriate." Her words struck with a bit of sadness as the Captain looks at her, she seemed deep in thought.

"As your provider you must." He orders her as she smiles a little and nods in agreement.

A few months had passed "Wow I'm getting so much better look Kuchiki sama!" (Your Name) excitingly says rushing to Byakuya with her painting. There was a big smile plastered on her face as he looks up from his spot.

It was a tiger stalking it's prey and he couldn't help but think about something different with that reference.

"What's wrong? Does it look bad?" She asks with confusion not understanding how close she was next to him. There was a certain innocence in her that Byakuya found pure and wanted to protect.

"It's nice. Just let me help you define some of the lines." He offered as he took her hand in his and swiftly corrected the messy lines.

She was blushing finding it hard to breathe, if all the other servants saw they probably would have fainted. (Your Name) could feel the heat on her back and his warmth that made her feel comfortable.

There was silence as she observed the strokes he was making.

"Better?" Byakuya asks her as she nodded and hid her face from him.

"What did you draw Kuchiki sama?" She then asks trying to calm herself as he shows his painting of a traditional lady holding a flower on her finger tip.

"It's very beautiful." (Your Name) says staring at the painting immerse by the detail of it.

"Very." Byakuya agrees staring at her face before sitting back up.

Although most of the time it was silent when they painted, she eventually started to talk more and act more casual, even Byakuya was surprised how much she was willing to share with him. He was thankful, he didn't want her to be closed off such as he was.

A part of him wanted to move forward and settle down again but he didn't know what (Your Name) was feeling.

"It's getting late, I don't want the girls to talk." She then says cleaning up the ink and papers.

"I see, allow me to walk you back."

"It's okay Kuchiki sama, I'm sure you need your rest. I have to be up early to start deep cleaning the mansion. The family is coming for a special dinner so I have to prepare."

Byakuya knits his brows, he knew that making her stay longer would cause a rumor to go around but he didn't care, he wanted to spend more time with her. Although he didn't want to reveal how he felt about her just yet.

"Alright, I assume you will be serving dinner?"

"Yes!" She says with a tired smile as he followed to her direction.

"Very well, you've been working hard. Allow me to gift this to you." Byakuya walks into one of the closets where the box was wrapped very nicely as he picked it up gently and places it in her hands. "Take care of it, it's one of kind made for you."

She was flushed and bowed deeply but before she could Byakuya stopped her and touched her hair, acknowledging how soft it was.

"Good night (Your Name)." He says before taking his leave.

(Your Name) rushed back to her room to see what was in the box, her excitement got the best of her as she had to calm herself and stop smiling so much.

She softly unwrap the ribbon and opened the box to see the Kimono stitched and made perfectly. The fabric felt delicate and soft but heavy and enduring.

A bit embarrassed of her only three selection, this was crafted by an expert. Holding the kimono up she smelled it and wrapped it around her.

Byakuya could only hope she liked the gift, as he headed to bed before tomorrows family dinner.

The day started early before the sun rise, (Your Name) and the other servants were busy cleaning and preparing food for tonight. The atmosphere was chaotic at the most but it was rather fun for her. She couldn't wait to show Byakuya how it looked but that would have to wait.

"You've been smiling a lot (Your Name)." One of the servants says with a smirk as she was lost in thought and apologize before going back to wrapping the dumplings. "Still thinking about leaving?"

"Leaving. Right I wanted to but now..."

"The days have been treating me well." She says back not wanting to share that she was spending private time with their "master" most days.

"Oh I see. Be careful."

(Your Name) seemed confused by that statement but before she could say anything she was called to finish the rest of the room decoration.

The day pasted by fast as she got ready in her own room. She wanted to know what the other girl meant by being careful, (Your Name) couldn't tell if it was a warning or the girl was genuinely looking out for her.

It is a big mansion and there are eyes everywhere, she was sure some of the servants knew but didn't say anything.

Dinner was starting and it was rowdy in the room luckily for (Your Name) she had a few other girls help serve dinner.

When the door open, it was filled with the royal family and people of higher status she couldn't help but feel let down. They were usually polite but sometimes they had some rude ones.

Byakuya took a moment to acknowledge her presence in the room as she gave a small smile and looked back down. Of course it did not go unnoticed by Rukia and the servants.

(Your Name) knew the other girls wanted to be near Byakuya so she stayed back and went immediately to put down Rukias tray.

"You look beautiful." She tells Rukia as the shorter shinigami blushes and thanks her.

It did not go unnoticed by Byakuya of the space (Your Name) was making through the night but he knew the words that were going around. The servants gossip to much. He knew she didn't want to create anymore rumors.

"Kuchiki Taicho have you thought about remarrying? I have a daughter still in her prime that is a suited match and can bring great aspects if we join family's." One of the royals says as Byakuya sips on his tea.

(Your Name) heard the conversation a few feet away as she gather the rest of the tray to put down. She was waiting for Byakuyas answer, she didn't know why she was acting this way. She never liked him before but spending some time and seeing his subtle acts of kindness changed her mind about Byakuya completely.

"I have, but that is a conversation I will not get into. I wish to find my own wife." Byakuya states clearly as Rukia ears perked up also from her brother. She didn't know he was thinking about remarrying. She couldn't help but feel a bit sad but also happy, he was finally finding happiness. Of course Rukia knew she would always be his little sister no matter what.

(Your Name) sighed in relief, but at the same time sad. Once he married she won't be able to paint along side him no more, it would definitely be inappropriate.

Some of the servants gave her a look which confused (Your Name) as they left the room quietly.

"Why are you all staring at me?" (Your Name) asks a bit fed up with the looks she had been getting all day.

"We saw you leave Kuchiki Sama private corders last night. Tell us! Is he good in bed?!" They exclaimed as (Your Name) almost choked on her spit.

"What?! You guys have the wrong idea! Kuchiki sama just offered to help me with my painting skills, there's nothing going on. I'm just glad you guys aren't mad at me." She says in relief as they giggle at her.

"No, we all know but didn't know how to ask!"

(Your Name) groaned and walked away from the nagging girls about their time together.

"Nii sama, it was a good dinner." Rukia says to her brother as he nodded his head walking slightly ahead of her. "Will you retire tonight?" She continue to asks as he answers back. "In a few hours, I wish to have more tea." He tells her as Rukia smiles and takes her leave back to the 13th division.

(Your Name) was busy cleaning the rest of the room as she sighed, the day drained her. She was glad no one hated her though especially the other servants, they were all basically sisters. A sense of sadness came over her as it fell silent in the room leaving her deep in thoughts.

She accepted she would never be anything more than a servant for the rest of her life. It was the cruel reality having to be born from nothing. Although she loved her parents deeply she didn't regret anything from her childhood to womanhood.

There was a letter on her bed as she got ready for bed. Byakuya was waiting for her.

It was late when he felt her presence outside his room. She was nervous, they always met up outside or in his study room.

"Kuchiki sama." She softly calls out as he opens the door to let her in.

Her night outfit was rather thin as he gave her his cloak. "It's cold." He tells her as she thanked him and took a seat next to him.

"Shall I pour the tea?"

Byakuya nodded as she covered her chest with one hand to not expose the loose covering.

"I wanted to speak to you about something."

Her ears perked up as she let him continue.

"You want to leave the manor?" Byakuya asks as she swallowed the hot tea and stay silent for a while, she didn't know how to answer him.

"For a while I did, I wasn't very happy but things change. I don't really know, I know there is more to life than this. I also want to explore and start a family one day.....Are you upset about that?"

Byakuya turns to her and reaches out to her cheek to hold it. The candle light shown in her face and her tired lids made her look dreamy as she fell into his touch. Usually she would shy away but maybe it's the lack of sleep that was making her act so bold or because she knew deep down he was into her.

His thump touches her lip as she opened her eyes, he was staring at her for approval as she nodded her head and moved closer into him as he kissed her lips.

It was light as he paused to look at her once more and caved back to her lips for more. There was a buried passion that he thought was long lost coming back as his hand ran through her hair and her arms were around his neck.

She was intoxicating as his tongue met hers with the same power for dominance.

There was heavy panting when they pulled apart, she didn't expect him to kiss her.

"Would that be enough to convince you to stay, stay by my side." He confessed as (Your Name) touched her lips, he was addicting, his voice, his face, his touch.

"Maybe." She smirks as he slightly smiled back to her. "But I am not royal."

Byakuya had his share of thoughts and hardship already in his last marriage to not care anymore.

"Does not matter to me." He tells her gently taking her hand with his holding it up to kiss it.

She was worried but his words alone is enough for her.

"Kuchiki sama-"

"Byakuya sama is fine." He insisted as she held onto his hand tighter.

"Byakuya sama, not trying to ruin the mood but I am quite tired." She laughs as he kissed her hand once more and helped her up. He guided her down to his bed as she seemed completely shocked.

"Stay with me tonight." He asks as she accepted his invitation.

They shared the bed as she comfortably fell into the covers of smelling his scent. She could stay here forever now.

"Good night Byakuya sama." She says as he wrapped his strong arms around her drifting to sleep as well.

Within the following months (Your Name) and Byakuya relationship had bloomed. "Rukia sama, are you going to the festival?" (Your Name) asks as they were sitting outside enjoying the sun.

"Yes! I will see you there?"

"I was suppose to go with your brother but he said he might be busy..." she says a little sadly as Rukia looked concern for her.

"Want to come with me?"

Her eyes widen as she smiled and agreed.

The night came as she wore the kimono Byakuya had gifted her, to bad he wouldn't be able to see her in it. She frowned but stopped, going with Rukia would be enough.

"You look amazing! Did my brother get this for you?" Rukia asks as she met her outside the manor.

"Yes! To bad he can't see me wear it but there is always next time!" (Your Name) says with excitement as they walked side by side talking about all the good food they were going to eat there.

From the entrance of the festival Byakuya could see his dearly beloved with his sister as they chatted and giggled with each other. It soften his heart as a smile placed on him.

From a distance (Your Name) saw a familiar figure standing, as she looked up and her smile grew even more as she ran towards Byakuya.

"Byakuya sama, I'm glad you came." She hugged him as his eyes widen, she was beautiful in the kimono and everyday since the first day they met.

"Of course my love." He says as he pushed some hair away from her face.

"Let's go!" She happily says extending her hand out to Rukia and then Byakuya who followed.

She was glad, she was starting to create a family filled with love and joy.

[suuuupernovaaa]

'eveng- Part 2

‘eveng [ˈʔɛ.vɛŋ] n. child

Request from @rainbowsocks: Can we have a part 2 where we see the family’s reaction to neteyams daughter?

Neteyam returned, having secured peace for your people after a year of war, to find you had a very big - and also very small - surprise for him; now, his family gets the same surprise.

Picks up right where Part 1 left off. Part 1 is probably necessary before reading this. Go ahead and read it - this will be here for you when you're done.

Part 1, Part 3

590 words.

"Parul," you said with a contented sigh. "Perfect."

Your mate held you close to him, your sleeping newborn daughter between the two of you, and you had everything you could possibly want.

"My family! They need to meet her."

Eagerly, you nodded. As if on cue, as you both turned to find them, the rest of the Sullys were already arriving - probably having followed Neteyam.

They had a similar reaction to your mate - excitement as they charged towards the two of you, and then absolute shock when they saw the small bundle in Neteyam's arms.

Lo'ak was the first to speak. "Holy shit. Who's baby is that, Neteyam?"

You covered your mouth with your hand to stifle a laugh.

"She is mine, Lo'ak. Ours," Neteyam replied, his voice absolutely booming with pride as he looked down at your daughter, and then over at you. "This is my daughter. Your niece."

"Oh, Great Mother!" Neteyri rushed past her family straight to you, bringing you into her arms. "Tell me how you are doing, Y/N. How was the birth? The pregnancy? How do you feel now?"

You felt overwhelmed at the attention from Neteyam's mother, and so oddly grateful that she had rushed to you, and not your daughter. It made you feel special, not overlooked as new mothers so often did.

"The pregnancy was easy, the birth was really hard, and I'm very tired," you replied honestly, and she gave you a knowing smile.

"We are here now. May I hold my first grandchild?" She finally turned her attention to her son, arms outstretched, and he placed the tiny child safety there. "What is her name?" Neytiri asked quietly, not taking her eyes off the baby.

"Parul," you and Neteyam replied in sync.

Jake approached, putting an arm around his wife to gaze down at your child. "Wow. Look at that. Looks just like you when you were born - all wrinkly and beautiful."

He reached out, clapping his eldest son on the back. "Well done."

Neytiri scowled up at him. "Your son has done nothing. Congratulate Y/N, she did all the work."

Jake laughed, and pulled up in for a rare embrace. "Good job, girl."

You hugged him in return, and the rest of Neteyam's siblings gathered, cooing over the baby and asking so many questions about how it was to be pregnant, and what the baby was like now.

"Well, mostly she sleeps and eats. And poops. Do you want to change her next diaper, Uncle Lo'ak?"

He wrinkled his head, but smiled down at his niece in his arms when she cooed and smiled in her sleep.

"How could someone as ugly as Neteyam make something so..." Lo'ak trailed off.

"Gorgeous," Kiri finished his sentence for him, and then smiled at me. "I can't believe we missed everything."

"There will be another, someday," I said, and Neteyam looked at me with wide eyes.

"I just met this one," he said, and his family laughed.

That night, Neytiri stayed nearby so she could help with the baby at night, and allow you a little bit of sleep. You were so grateful for her - and so tired - that you cried a little bit when she told you. Your own parents were gone, and you had felt so alone through your pregnancy and birth.

You prayed to the Great Mother, thanking her for returning your family so soon.

That night, you slept peacefully in your mate's arms, knowing that he and his family were back to take care of you.

[donutdrawsthings]

Hi, I really like your art, your style is beautiful. You're doing very well at keeping it that way. If I may, I would like to ask you to draw art with Susan. I really like Susan, she's one of my favorite characters.

Thank you so much! :oD I'm so glad to see more Susan appreciators. I really hope her character will return to the big screen someday!

Here's a doodle of the 2nd doctor, Jamie, Zoe and Susan playing around in the ocean on a sunny day!

[roosterforme]

Batting Practice Part 25 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Now that Bradley had the ring, he didn't want to wait. He kept thinking about what it would mean to move in with you and Everett and be a family. He wanted all of it. So he got Everett to help him out one last time. 

Warnings: Fluff, smut, angst and swearing

Length: 4800 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader

Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun! Batting Practice masterlist.

You locked your office door and sank down into your seat. You were too nervous to eat the lunch you packed for yourself as you got your phone out to call your lawyer. It had taken you a few days, but you decided what you wanted to do about Danny. It wasn't ideal, but you'd do it. 

As you sat and listened to the hold music playing in your ear, you poked at your sad looking salad. Danny was going to blow up at you after this. And it would be months and months before you saw a cent, but you supposed it was the best you could get since you couldn't get Danny stripped of parental rights. Tears pricked at your eyes, because you just wanted him gone. Good and truly gone with no ability to come back and hurt Everett again.

When your lawyer returned to the line, you told him that you wanted to move forward with serving papers to Danny to petition for child support. If you couldn't get rid of Danny, at least you could pad Ev's college account or help him buy a car someday. 

"You do understand that Daniel can take four months to contest the petition? And that's on top of the time it may take to serve him the papers?"

You rested your forehead on your desk and took a deep breath. At least you would be the one dealing all of this shit behind the scenes so Ev wouldn't have to know about it. But Bradley was always imploring you to be more open with him about this, so you'd have to figure out how to tell him that Danny was here to stay. Unless you and Bradley ever got married. Unless Bradley ever wanted to petition to adopt Everett. 

"Yes," you said, your voice only a harsh whisper. "I understand. We can proceed." 

As your melancholy settled in, you decided to text Molly about what you did. It didn't take long for your sister to respond. She must not have been working right now. You never could manage to keep track of her schedule, so you had no idea how Bob was so efficient with it. 

Danny is a little baby cocksucker bitch! Bleed him dry! Do it for Ev! I'll help you take over the world after I have a nap.

You snorted, pleased that not a moment had passed since your parents died when Molly was not one hundred percent on your team. And now you had Bradley. And you supposed you had Bob, too. 

A sharp knock on your office door had you jumping in your seat. "Coming," you called, scrambling to go unlock the door only to find Bradley standing there in his khaki uniform with a bunch of tulips and a wrapped sandwich. His aviators were perched on the tip of his nose, and he looked like a fantasy. You could see three of the receptionists leaning out of their cubicles to get a better look at him.

"Kitten," he whispered with a grin before kissing your cheek. When you silently pushed your door open wider, he brushed past you, and you closed it behind him. 

"What are you doing here?" you asked breathlessly. He set the food and the flowers down on your desk, and you rushed into his arms.

"I just missed you," he whispered in your ear. "And it's Tuesday. Technically the slowest day of the week. I needed a pick-me-up." And with that, he scooped you up into his arms while you gasped, and he deposited you on the edge of your desk.

"Well, I'm glad you're here," you told him, reaching out to pull him closer. He tossed his sunglasses onto your desk, and then you couldn't even remember what you wanted to tell him. Something about your lawyer? His hands were on your bare knees, sliding up under your black skirt.

"You know I love this," he whispered, pushing your skirt up your bare thighs. "I like to daydream about this skirt. On your bedroom floor. Or all bunched up around your waist."

You coaxed his lips down to yours with your finger under his chin and kissed him softly. "I have some free time right now."

Instantly, he was lifting your butt up off of your desk and yanking your skirt up over your hips and around your waist. You squealed with delight as he set you back down and smiled as he knelt in front of you. "Really?" he asked, nudging your inner thigh with his nose and kissing you there. 

"Yes," you giggled as he looked up at you. When you spread your legs wide for him, he kissed your core through your underwear, and you gasped, "Go lock my door, Coach."

He dipped his long index finger inside the lace fabric and nudged your clit with his knuckle. "Where's the fun in that?"

You moaned, and then you were shimmying your underwear down your legs. Bradley tucked them into pocket, and you couldn't believe you were letting him do this with the door unlocked. But the prickle of his mustache along your slit had you grabbing at the back of his head and spreading open further for him. 

He licked a long stripe from your opening up to nibble on your clit, and you dug your fingers into his hair. "That's a good Kitten," he rasped, kissing along your pussy and thighs as he slipped his index finger inside you. Just a few strokes and you were whining for him, your thighs clamping around his head. But he pushed them apart again and kept them in place with his other, huge hand.

"Bradley," you gasped, and he pulled you a little closer to the edge as he sucked on your clit. "Oh god." 

He released you and licked a circle that had you tugging on his hair. "Wanna make sure you think about me when you're at work, Baby," he grunted before rubbing his mustache through your wetness until you were getting a little loud. 

"Bradley!" you whined. He was good. You leaned back on one hand as he made your legs shake. And when he looked up at you as he circled your clit lazily with his tongue, you knew you were getting close. "Keep going," you told him, rocking against his face a little bit. 

The sight of him buried between your legs with your fingers messing up his hair took you all the way. Because when he wrapped his lips around your clit one more time, you came for him. Loud and needy. And then you slowly sat fully upright again while your ears buzzed. He was still placing soft kisses on you everywhere that used to be covered by your underwear. 

"I love you, Kitten," he whispered as he squeezed your thighs and stood up to kiss you. His mustache was wet, and you licked him while you moaned softly. His whole face tasted like you as you licked and kissed him. It was intoxicating, and you pulled him closer so the front of his uniform pants rubbed against your pussy. He was rock hard.

"You wanna?" you asked him as he stroked his fingers along your cheek. 

"Fuck, you know I do," he promised, rubbing his mustache down your neck. "But I need to get back to work."

You bit your lip and watched him reluctantly pull away from you and adjust himself. There was a little wet spot on his pants that absolutely thrilled you as you asked, "Where's my underwear?"

His smile was smug. "In my pocket. I'm gonna hang them in my locker at work like a little souvenir."

You gasped, your pussy still bare for him with your skirt hiked up. An embarrassingly needy little sound escaped you as he patted his right pocket. 

"I hope you don't mind if the guys see them."

You pressed your lips together. You actually really liked that underwear. They were a stretchy white lace thong that you found comfortable. But if Bradley wanted to put them in his locker and think of you every time he hit the shower, then you were more than happy to let him have them.

"I don't mind," you whispered. "But you know you're going to make Bob blush, right?"

Bradley kissed your forehead and said, "Molly has broken him in, I think. He doesn't blush as much as he used to. Now, don't forget, we have plans for the Fourth of July. And I'll see you at your house later tonight after my practice."

You nodded and watched him leave as you stood up and pulled your skirt down. "Love you, Kitten," he called from your open door with his erection still visible in his pants before he strolled away.

You looked at the sandwich he left for you as your stomach growled. Your appetite was back again since talking to your lawyer, so you sat and ate it while you smiled at the spot on your desk where you just had an orgasm. 

As soon as you pulled up the spreadsheet you had been working on, your phone vibrated on your desk next to the tulips he left for you. He sent you a photo of your white lace thong hanging up in his locker. 

Bradley Bradshaw: I wasn't joking. I'm looking forward to getting lots of compliments on my new decoration.

You squeezed your thighs together and squealed. 

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

Bradley had to rush back to base. When he stopped by the locker room to drop off his keys and wallet, he pulled your underwear out of his pocket. They were a little damp, and when he pressed them to his nose, your scent overwhelmed him. He should have fucking stayed long enough to bury his cock and his cum inside you. What was he thinking? A reprimand from one of the admirals would have been worth it. 

With a deep sigh, he hung his pretty souvenir on one of the hooks and snapped a photo. He sent it to you as he literally ran outside and across the tarmac to the meeting room for his afternoon session. He had your underwear in his locker and your engagement ring in his kitchen drawer. 

He had big plans for that ring. There were just a few things he needed to prepare, and he couldn't stop smiling as he thought about what he and Everett were planning. He could talk that kid into anything over some McDonald's chicken nuggets. 

But he had to keep his thoughts from wandering too much to you and Ev while Mav was lecturing. Because every time he thought about marrying you, he thought about being Ev's dad. And he really needed to not get too far ahead of himself, because he had no idea if you'd support that idea or not. Bradley got the impression that you wanted sole guardianship and legal rights to your son. And honestly, Bradley could also get behind that. One hundred percent. 

When the lecture ended, Bob was waving his hand in front of Bradley's face. "You ready to head to practice?" he asked cautiously. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," Bradley grunted, jumping out of his seat. Today was the first practice for the rec league team, and Everett had bugged nonstop to come and watch. But Bradley wanted to get one good practice in with nobody there, just in case he ended up being terrible. 

He walked with Bob back to the locker room to change into the navy blue hat and jersey with the number 1 on the back, deciding to skip the shower until later tonight. When he was changing his socks, he saw Bob's eyes wander to his locker, and then he quickly looked away. 

"Nice panties," Jake said as he strolled past on his way to the showers. 

"Thanks," Bradley replied, smirking, because he just knew this was going to get you all flustered when he told you later tonight. 

He drove to practice, and thought about his plan for the Fourth of July. It would be perfect, and somehow, he wasn't even nervous. Because being with you felt right. 

And then he pitched so well, both coaches pulled him aside after practice to tell him he's the best they had ever seen on a recreational team. And Bradley just had to laugh, because he was pretty sure he was still better at playing shortstop. 

"Damn," Bob said in between gulps of his Gatorade. "Your arm is a cannon. I barely managed to hit that single."

"Thanks," Bradley said, rapidly throwing everything into his bag, just wanting to get to your house. And then he paused and really looked at Bob. "Holy shit," he mumbled as Bob adjusted his glasses and checked his phone with a smile. Molly must have texted him. Bob was deeply in love with Molly. Bob might perhaps be Bradley's brother-in-law one day. 

"See you tomorrow," Bob told him with a nod as he hoisted his gear bag up onto his shoulder. And as he walked to the Bronco, Bradley hoped that Everett would be lucky enough to have Bob as his uncle. 

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

It was late when Bradley got to your house. Everett was already in bed, and you were cleaning up the kitchen and starting to pack lunches for the morning. One more day of work this week, and then you and Everett were both off for Independence Day. And Bradley had invited you to Maverick's hangar for a party and fireworks. 

Of course Everett couldn't wait. But that child idolized Bradley. 

You heard his key in your front door, and your heart skipped around in your chest. "Hi, Kitten," Bradley whispered, dropping his stuff off next to the stairs. "Is Ev sleeping?" he asked, kissing you softly. 

"Probably. I got him in bed about twenty minutes ago."

"I'm gonna go up and check on him," Bradley replied, quietly taking the stairs two at a time. God, you couldn't handle it. Tears filled your eyes. He loved you both, and you wanted him to move in with you in the worst way. But you were just going to have to wait. It would be worth waiting. 

You could hear him come back downstairs a moment later with a little frown. "He was already asleep."

You threw your arms around his waist and squeezed him. "You can make him pancakes and drop him off at summer camp tomorrow. If you want to."

"Of course I want to," Bradley murmured against your hair. "I love your son."

You rubbed your cheek against his soft undershirt and melted into his embrace. "He loves you, too. And if you don't let him come watch you pitch next time, he might cry."

"Fuck. No," he groaned. "You know I can't stand the sight of him in tears. Almost rips my fucking heart out."

You laughed softly. "Guess we'll just have to come to your first game. Now, do you want a bedtime snack while you tell me about practice?"

"I sure do," he mumbled, backing you up against the kitchen island. "Let me finish you off? I had you for lunch, and now you can be my snack."

"Okay," you told him, pushing him away a few inches. He looked at you with wide, curious eyes. "Usually I don't allow food in my bed, but if I'm the snack then I suppose it's fine."

Bradley's eyes narrowed as he scooped you up and carried you upstairs. You had to stifle your laughter so you didn't wake Everett up. When Bradley dropped you onto your bed and climbed on top of you, he took your hands in his and kissed along your neck. 

"Can we talk about the holiday for a minute?" he asked, and you rolled your eyes a little bit. He'd been asking incessantly about taking you to Maverick's and making sure you didn't have anything else planned for the day. 

"Yes, Bradley. But I already told you, Ev and I are free the whole day."

"I wanna take you to the park in the morning," he whispered, his mustache tickling your ear as you enjoyed his delicious body weight. "I want you to see how good Ev is when I pitch to him."

You smiled and wrapped your legs around his hips. "Sounds perfect."

"And then we can head to the party at the hangar. Maverick is setting up a splash pad for the kids," he said, pressing his lips to yours with a grin. 

"Are you going in it?" you asked. "You're an overgrown kid."

"Only if you do," he said as you rolled your hips against his. "You should wear that leopard print bathing suit you have."

You gasped and giggled. "The one I wore to the tee ball pool party? At the beginning of the season? When we had our first real kiss?"

"Hell yes," he hissed. "Couldn't stay away from you, Kitten. I was already in love with you."

You kissed him and held him tight. You couldn't pinpoint the moment you fell in love with him, but you knew you'd never be able to stop now.

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

Wednesday ended up being a rainy day, and everyone in the entire city seemed confused by it. Even Everett was out of sorts when you picked him up from summer camp. 

"Is Bradley going to come over and play with us tonight?" he asked, staring out the car window as you drove him through the storm. "I wanted him to take me to the park."

He kept pouting as you told him, "He needed to get some stuff done at his apartment tonight." You wished he could wrap up whatever he needed to do early and come watch a movie instead. But he told you it was important. 

"Well can we go over to his apartment?" Ev whined.

It struck you that you'd never once been there. And now you wondered if it looked the way you imagined it. Bradley told you a million times how much cozier your house was than his place, and you just shook your head. Because he could have moved in if he wanted to.

"Not tonight, Ev."

He was silent for the rest of the ride home, plainly annoyed with you for keeping him from Bradley. And then he was pretty quiet as you watched Finding Nemo together for the millionth time. But when you reminded him that tomorrow, if the weather was nice, all three of you were going to the park and then Maverick's party, he perked up.

"Bradley is really excited about the park tomorrow!" Everett said as he climbed into bed. "He's excited to show you something."

"Oh yeah?" you asked, tucking him in while the soft rain hit his window. "What does he want to show me?"

Everett laughed and rolled onto his side. "I can't tell you."

You sighed and kissed his cheek. It was probably something silly or something baseball related. "Well I guess I'll just have to wait then." But he was already starting to doze off, holding onto the stuffed Phanatic.

You were a true San Diegan. All the rain was making you tired. You thrived on sunny days and warm weather. When you went to plug your phone in before bed, you saw a text from Bradley. 

Bradley Bradshaw: I can't wait to pick you up in the morning. Give Ev an extra bedtime kiss for me?

You had to laugh, because he seemed to have no concept of what a consistent bedtime for Everett was. You could already tell that if Bradley ever moved in, he and Ev would be outside playing until well after dark all the time, and you'd be the one reeling them in. 

When you fell asleep, you slept hard. And you woke up to Everett in your room, climbing up into bed with you. "Mommy, I'm hungry." 

It was pretty late, and Bradley was coming over to pick you up for the park, but at least the sun was shining today. 

You stretched and pulled your son into a tight hug. "Cereal or eggs?" you asked as he snuggled up with you. 

"Cereal," he mumbled, his voice muffled by the blankets. "Are you going to get up and put on makeup and a dress and stuff?"

You laughed and said, "We're just going to the park and then a splash pad party in the desert, Ev. I wasn't planning on getting too dressed up today. Why?"

"You should," he said, wiggling out of bed and running out of your room. 

"Okay," you muttered to nobody. And a little while later, you were sipping coffee and eating cereal in your kitchen, still not dressed for the day when Bradley arrived. 

"Why do you look so nice?" you asked when he let himself inside. He was wearing a snug fitting red and white golf shirt and chino shorts. 

"Do I?" he asked, glancing down at himself as he went right to Ev and kissed his forehead. And you didn't even mind that you always got greeted second. Because when you got your kiss, it was on the lips and had your knees going weak.

"Hi," he whispered as you threaded your fingers through his hair. "I missed you last night."

How on earth did he make you this silly? Your heart was beating faster and your skin felt extra sensitive as he ran his big hand down your arm. 

"I missed you, too."

Then he pulled away and looked you up and down. "Why aren't you dressed yet? We have a busy day, Kitten." And you finally went back upstairs to get changed as both of them pushed you out of the kitchen. You could hear them talking softly and laughing as you climbed the stairs. 

When you came back down in some denim shorts with a white tank and a sheer white blouse, Bradley smiled at you before leading both of you out to the Bronco. Everett had his gear bag, and when Bradley opened the back tailgate, you saw all of his stuff there too.

"You brought a whole bucket of balls?" you asked, pointing to the bucket tucked behind his bag. "Are you going to make me play catcher for you guys again?"

"Yep," they replied in unison, making you laugh. 

"Okay, but you know I'm not very good."

"You're stellar, Kitten. Aces, Baby," Bradley promised as he scooped Everett up and carried him around to his booster seat.

You tended to disagree, but if the two of them really wanted to play ball in the park all day, then you would just chase balls around and cheer them on. The ride to the park was filled with Everett asking Bradley questions, something your son never seemed to tire of. And as always, Bradley answered every single one of them the best he could without getting irritated at all. 

At a red light, you reached for his hand and said, "I love you." He responded by stroking your fingers with his thumb as he hummed along to the radio. And soon you were at the park and unloading everything. You watched as the boys both put on their matching Phillies hats and took sips out of a bottle of Gatorade. They had a little routine now, and it melted your heart. 

"Ready?" Bradley asked Everett and then you. 

"Ready," you replied, carrying the bucket of baseballs for them. You followed them to the same shady area where you had played catcher before. The sun was strong today, but at least it wasn't too hot yet. Being in the shade would help with that.

"Ev, start stretching while I get your mom all set up," Bradley said, reaching into his bag and pulling out his catcher's mask and mitt. 

"Hey," you said with a smile. "I remembered it's a mitt and not a glove!" you said, and Bradley pulled you tight to him for a kiss.

He hummed against your lips as he ran his empty hand down your back to squeeze your butt. "It's going to be important that you know these things, because Ev and I are going to be on this baseball shit forever now. We're about to get annoying as hell, Kitten."

"I don't mind," you said, looking up into his brown eyes that were always so sincere. "Please, annoy the shit out of me forever."

The smile that took over his face had you giggling while Everett ran around you in circles doing his own definition of warming up. Then Bradley mumbled, "Gotta keep this pretty face safe," while he fitted the catcher's mask around the back of your head. He slipped the too large mitt on your hand and kissed your neck. "All set now."

"Can we do it yet?" Ev asked, slowing his run down and picking up his bat. "Please?"

"Yeah, kiddo," Bradley replied, turning both of their hats backwards. "We can do it."

You eased yourself down into the uncomfortable position to catch the baseballs for them. But Everett was hitting most of them, which made your job kind of pointless. Bradley was telling Ev what each pitch was going to be before he threw it.

"Here comes a slider," he called out, and you watched your boyfriend's muscles tense up deliciously before he threw a pitch right to Everett. Your son hit it up in the air and Bradley caught it. "Pretty good! Let's try another slider." Then he threw the same pitch again, and Everett hit it over Bradley's head.

"I can't believe you're this good, Ev," you praised, because truly you could not. It was impressive the way he hit Bradley's fastball and curveball as well. You knew Bradley wasn't pitching hard or fast, but he was still pitching to Everett. And your seven year old son was hitting almost all of them. 

"Okay, kiddo," Bradley called out. "This one is the special pitch I've been working on. Are you ready for it?"

"Ready, Coach!" Everett called out in excitement. He turned and looked at you with a smile before he returned to his batting stance, and you made sure you were all set, too. 

You weren't sure what kind of pitch was a special pitch, and Bradley was really taking his time getting ready to throw it. He kept shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He looked a little nervous, but you didn't know why. It wasn't like you and Ev were going to tell him he did a bad job of throwing a new pitch he was working on. Honestly, you were excited to see it. 

When he finally took a deep breath, he met your eyes before winding up to throw it. The ball sailed right to your mitt, and you caught it cleanly. Everett didn't swing at it, and now he was looking at you with his bat hanging down at his side. When you looked up at Bradley, he was staring at you. Then you noticed that the ball was more red than white as you dumped it out of the mitt and into your empty hand. 

"What is this?" you mumbled, turning it around in your hand. It was covered in little red hearts that looked like they had been drawn on with a sharpie, and there was something written in Bradley's handwriting.

Will you marry me?

You gasped and looked up at Bradley, but now he was down on one knee with his glove on the grass next to him. Everett was bouncing around next to you as you read the ball again. "Mommy?" he asked quietly, and you looked up at his eager face. 

Heart racing, you stood up and shook the mitt off your hand as you looked toward Bradley. You yanked the mask off your head as you ran toward him shouting, "Are you serious?"

His smile looked a little unsure as you tackled him onto the grass and straddled his waist. His Phillies cap rolled away as you looked down into his perfect face. 

"Well? Will you marry me, Kitten?" He held up a diamond ring as you kissed him and started crying.

"Yes. I'll marry you." Your voice was shaky and filled with tears, but you were so happy as you cried and kissed him. 

"She said yes, kiddo!" Bradley shouted to Everett when you buried your face against his neck. And you realized they had both been planning this together which just made you cry more. 

"Yes! It worked!" Everett screamed, and a few seconds later, Bradley was holding both of you on top of him in the grass, alternating between kissing your lips and Everett's forehead.

You were still clutching the baseball in your right hand as Bradley put the ring on your left finger. It was a little big, but it was beautiful. "It looks like a baseball," you said as he grinned.

"That's why we picked that one!" Everett informed you, looking happier than you'd ever seen him.

And then Bradley kissed your finger and whispered, "I'm going to love both of you forever."

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

He did it! He asked her! Love how happy Ev is! Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32

PART 26

Don't forget to check out Bob and Molly in The Curveball!

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

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@throwinsauce

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@whosyourgnomie4

@rosesinmars

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@wishfulwithwine

@backinwonderl4nd

@tetragonia

@gingerbreadandpaper

@emptyloverofmine

@chaoticassidy

@missmirandafe

@changlingkhat

@sugarcoated-lame

@callsign-jupiter

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@andycanbeemotional

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@tallyovie

@shanimallina87

@starlightstories

@teddyluvs2sing

@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

@lilyevanswhore

@o-the-o-grim-o-reaper-o

@xoxabs88xox

[daenerystargaryen06]

"How beautiful, the queen tried to tell herself, but inside her was some foolish little girl who could not help but look about for Daario. If he loved you, he would come and carry you off at swordpoint, as Rhaegar carried off his northern girl, the girl in her insisted, but the queen knew that was folly..." -A Dance with Dragons - Daenerys VII

"I would need to steal her if I wanted her love, but she might give me children. I might someday hold a son of my own blood in my arms. A son was something Jon Snow had never dared dream of, since he decided to live his life on the Wall. I could name him Robb." -A Storm of Swords -Jon XII

Daenerys wanting Daario to carry her off at sword point, and Jon thinking of stealing Val for her love. Two parallels of one girl wanting to be stolen, and one boy wanting to steal someone. Both for love.

"None of them had ever seen a direwolf before, he realized, and Ghost was twice as large as the common wolves that prowled their southron greenwoods. As he walked toward the armory, Jon chanced to look up and saw Val standing in her tower window. I'm sorry, he thought. I'm not the man to steal you out of there." -A Storm of Swords - Jon XII

"Even if her captain was mad enough to attempt it, the Brazen Beasts would cut him down before he got within a hundred yards of her." -A Dance with Dragons - Daenerys VII

Jon is sorry he can't steal away Val, and Daenerys reflects on the fact that even if Daario did attempt to carry her off at sword point, he'd be cut down.

Both Jon and Daenerys have a sense of romanticism in their POV's. Both are hopeless romantics (perhaps Daenerys more so than Jon in a sense). Both want love, despite denying it deep down. Jon because he's a man of the Night's Watch and a bastard. Daenerys because she is a Queen over her people and accepts duty over giving in to "girlish" thoughts.

Both had found love within confinement. Jon having fallen for Ygritte while pretending to be on the Freefolk's side. Daenerys having found a twisted love in Drogo after being sold to him as a bridal slave. Both were coerced into sexual relations with Ygritte and Drogo. Both had to watch Ygritte and Drogo die (and Dany killed Drogo out of mercy).

"He found Ygritte sprawled across a patch of old snow beneath the Lord Commander's Tower, with an arrow between her breasts. The ice crystals had settled over her face, and in the moonlight it looked as though she wore a glittering silver mask [...] "Oh." Ygritte cupped his cheek with her hand. "You know nothing, Jon Snow," she sighed, dying. -A Storm of Swords - Jon VII

"And when the bleak dawn broke over an empty horizon, Dany knew that he was truly lost to her. “When the sun rises in the west and sets in the east,” she said sadly. “When the seas go dry and mountains blow in the wind like leaves. When my womb quickens again, and I bear a living child. Then you will return, my sun-and-stars, and not before.” Never, the darkness cried, never never never. Inside the tent Dany found a cushion, soft silk stuffed with feathers. She clutched it to her breasts as she walked back out to Drogo, to her sun-and-stars. If I look back I am lost. It hurt even to walk, and she wanted to sleep, to sleep and not to dream. She knelt, kissed Drogo on the lips, and pressed the cushion down across his face." -A Game of Thrones - Daenerys IX

Both Jon and Daenerys have also found interest again after the deaths of Ygritte and Drogo. Jon wants Val, and Daenerys sleeps with Daario and may perhaps love him, but doubts over her relations with Daario. Both focus on their duties over giving in to what they really want. Daenerys even marries again for peace over giving in to what she really wants.

Both Jon and Daenerys think of having children, but push away the ideal. Jon due to being a member of the Night's Watch and a bastard. Daenerys due to thinking she is barren/cursed by Mirri Maz Duur and can never again have a child born from her.

Jon reflects that if he ever had a son, he'd name him Robb after his brother. Daenerys when pregnant with Drogo's child names her son Rhaego after her brother.

Jon is the secret son of Rhaegar and Lyanna. Lyanna is associated with blue winter roses:

"He was walking through the crypts beneath Winterfell, as he had walked a thousand times before. The Kings of Winter watched him pass with eyes of ice, and the direwolves at their feet turned their great stone heads and snarled. Last of all, he came to the tomb where his father slept, with Brandon and Lyanna beside him. "Promise me, Ned," Lyanna's statue whispered. She wore a garland of pale blue roses, and her eyes wept blood." -A Game of Thrones - Eddard XIII

"Robert had been jesting with Jon and old Lord Hunter as the prince circled the field after unhorsing Ser Barristan in the final tilt to claim the champion's crown. Ned remembered the moment when all the smiles died, when Prince Rhaegar Targaryen urged his horse past his own wife, the Dornish princess Elia Martell, to lay the queen of beauty's laurel in Lyanna's lap. He could see it still: a crown of winter roses, blue as frost." -A Game of Thrones - Eddard XV

When Daenerys has visions in the House of the Undying, she sees the Wall:

"A blue flower grew from a chink in a wall of ice, and filled the air with sweetness. . . . mother of dragons, bride of fire . . ." -A Clash of Kings - Daenerys IV

Jon is the 'blue flower' she sees growing from the wall of ice, filling the air with 'sweetness'. Jon is Lyanna's son. Both carry blue flower representation.

Jon also wants to know everything there is about his mother; who she was, if she loved him, what sort of person she was. Just alike to how Daenerys wants to learn and know everything she can about Rhaegar, as she also idolizes him in a sense. Both have thoughts about these people. Jon constantly thinks about his mother (Lyanna even if he does not know yet who she is); Daenerys often thinks of Rhaegar (despite never knowing him). Both think of these people despite them already being gone from the world, and both only wish they could have known who they truly were as people and can only guess how Lyanna and Rhaegar would've thought or acted.

Jon thinks of having dragons at the Wall:

"We should have twenty trebuchets, not two, and they should be mounted on sledges and turntables so we could move them. It was a futile thought. He might as well wish for another thousand men, and maybe a dragon or three." -A Storm of Swords - Jon VIII

When Jon dies, Daenerys hears a wolf howling in the distance:

"Off in the distance, a wolf howled. The sound made her feel sad and lonely, but no less hungry. As the moon rose above the grasslands, Dany slipped at last into a restless sleep." -A Dance with Dragons - Daenerys X

Both have an association/thought relating to one another's animal sigil/companion. Jon thinks of wishing for three dragons (Daenerys' house sigil and her dragon children). Daenerys hears a wolf howling when Jon dies, making her feel sad and lonely (Jon's house sigil through Lyanna/Ned and his direwolf Ghost).

Both Jon and Daenerys dream of home. Daenerys with the house with the red door and the lemon tree. Jon with Winterfell.

Both are estranged from their families (Jon being at the Wall. Daenerys being in Essos and the last of her family having died).

Both have lost their brothers in different means. Both have had their mothers die from childbirth and never got to meet them. Both of their fathers (Rhaegar and Aerys) died during the Rebellion.

Both had arcs of leadership and rule, and struggle with their decisions and making hard choices. Jon winds up killed due to his choices at the end of ADWD, and Daenerys becomes stranded in the Dothraki Sea due to her choice of saving Drogon (and her people from Drogon) from the fighting pit and escaping on dragonback.

While Daenerys thinks of taking the IT as a duty due to being the last of her family and Viserys' last living heir, Jon admits to wanting to become Lord of Winterfell but turning the opportunity away.

[2-dsimp]

What happened to Peina's mom/other parent? Were they an ex of Quio, a one night stand, or surrogate? How has Quio been coping with raising Peina? I assume he's a loving dad with how much he and his daughter seem to get along, even if Peina sasses him it gives the vibe she is opened about how she feels to her dad and trusts him enough to know he wouldn't hurt her or punish her for being blunt with him. Also, is there specific reasons why Peina didn't like her pervious nannies and likes y/n, or is it just the vibe of y/n she's happy with enough to want y/n as her mom?

Cw: Fem reader!

——————-/—————/———————-

This may come to a shock to you all but—

Quio is not Peina’s biological father. He’s actually her uncle and he adopted Peina as his own. Since his elder brother, Seines, couldn’t take care of her due to his drug addiction.

Quio got her when she was a toddler and from that day on raised her as his own in his early twenties. So Peina doesn’t know that Quio isn’t her biological father.

And her mother, Leona, just up and disappeared after having gave birth to her. She was the type to hate kids, and only got with with Seines. Because she thought he had money and wanted to trap him so she could get a cut in his dough.

But when Seines revealed that he got most of his money from his successful little brother. Quio who cut him off at the time from discovering his drug addiction. Leona got furious and left him on the spot.

Though someday she might return with an elaborate plan to get with Quio after all Peina is still her child and she always thought the A-list actor was exactly her type…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As for why Peina disliked most of her past caretakers, it’s cuz she could tell that they wanted to use her. They all wanted to abuse their position as her nanny to have a shot at appealing to her Dad.

Although she may be young, Peina’s very observant and critical of how someone carries themselves. A child’s intuition if you will, and she can generally sense who is an ill-intent person between one who isn’t.

You happened to fall into a good person category since you genuinely cared for her despite her status of being a famous Actor’s child. Which is why she’s so enamored with you since your affections run as deep as the one Quio has for her.

She could tell how It wasn’t fake love but one of true adoration. Geared towards securing her wellbeing and happiness. Just like how she always imagined a mother could be towards one’s child.

And by god that made her crave a mother so badly, since she never had one to call her own. That is until you came along.

[multiversalfandomwriter222]

Hi hii I'm the one who sent the az request! AND I ABSOLUTELY LOVED IT!! 🩷🩷

would you write reader saying something she doesn't mean and making az cry and then comforting him? (Established relationship btw so like they're already mated) basically the same thing but roles reversed 😭 I'm sorry I just love angst to fluff too much!! Thank you and have nice day/night bb <333

Warnings: Cursing, Angst, Azriel crying, slight mean Azriel.

At Least Tell Me

You slam the door as you go into your bedroom, everyone in the House flinching. Cassian walks into Rhysand's office, confusion all over his face. "What's wrong with Y/n?" He asks.

Rhys sighs heavily. "Azriel's on a mission, and he's coming back tonight." Cassian tilts his head. "Shouldn't she be happy?"

"Azriel didn't tell her that she left." Rhys sighs. Cassian's eyes widen. "How did she not-" "Azriel told her that he was going to visit his mother for a day and was going to return this morning. He has been gone three days, and Feyre darling told her yesterday that he was on a mission. Y/n has been slamming doors ever since." Rhys says, exasperated. Cassian shakes his head. "Y/n's temper rivals Nes, we may have to evacuate the house just because." Rhys snorts.

Time Skip-

Azriel lands on the balcony of the house, being greeted by his High Lady. "Y/n is pissed at you." Feyre says. Azriel's shoulders slump. "I know." "It's going to be bad." Feyre says. Azriel nods, and walks into the house, ready to face the wrath of his mate.

You knew Azriel was in the house. You overheard your older sister talking to him. But the rage bubbling inside was hard to keep a lid on it.

The door opens to reveal your mate, his wings drooped slightly. You turn to face your vanity, not bothering to make eye contact in the mirror with him. "I'm home." Azriel says.

"That's a first." You say coldly. Azriel sighs. "Y/n-"

"No don't you Y/n me! What the fuck Azriel?" You shout. Azriel flinches slightly, and the mask of the shadowsinger appears in that second. "I did what I had to do."

You laugh. "You did what you had to do." You laugh some more. "Did we hear that?" You yell, laughter erupting from you. Azriel rolls his eyes at you. "Azriel, you lied to me! Do you not see what's wrong with that? I was worried for you! I thought something happened to you!"

You come closer to him. "You don't need to worry about me." He says. "That was being reckless." You snap. Azriel lets out a cold, mocking laugh. "Now that's a joke. Miss Reckless, calling me reckless!" He scoffs. The shadows move about, flurrying in the range of emotions between the two of you.

You let out a yell of frustration. "See this is why I fucking hate you Azriel! By the gods, somedays I just want to fucking leave and never return!"

You cover your mouth, eyes widening. Azriel goes still, his shadows dropping. The house grows silent. You step back and Azriel rushes toward you. He kneels and clings to your legs. "A-Angel, I'm sorry. I'm so-" Huge sobs cut him off as he sobs into your stomach. "Angel please don't-" he sobs. "Please don't leave me. You can hate me all you want, just don't leave me."

Your heart breaks as you kneel to meet Azriel's height. "Oh no. Baby I'm so sorry. It cannot make up for my words and I'll do anything to make it up to you. Darling I'm so sorry." You wipe his tears away.

Azriel pulls you into his lap and buries his face into your neck. "Just don't leave me. Don't leave me." He sobs. "Oh baby, I'm not leaving you. I don't hate you, not at all. Oh baby." You coo, rocking the both of you left and right.

Finally, his sobs quiet, and he pulls away to look at you. "I'm sorry baby." You whisper. He shakes his head. "I'm sorry for lying to you. I shouldn't have. I should have been up front, and-"

You kiss him, interrupting his rant, and he desperately kisses you back. You break away and rest your forehead against his. "Do you want to take a bath first, then nap? Or do you want to nap, then take a bath?" You whisper. "Nap." He murmurs. He picks you up and carries you to your shared bed. You take off your dress, revealing your bra and panties, and Azriel strips down to his boxers.

You get into the bed first, opening the covers for him. Azriel follows right behind you and buries his face into your stomach, and you run your hands through his black hair, slowly putting him to sleep.

[in1-nutshell]

Hello teacher I'm just resending my request cause I remember you said some of the request you get from other followers disappears and I haven't seen the other request that I have send you when your request box was open

So I took the liberty of myself when your request box was open to copy and paste my requests so here they are

1.) Not too sure where this idea came from but I would like request a (our world buddy again) who happens to have a great fatherly like relationship with Prime Verse megatron who ends up meeting IDW Optimus who actually is her adopted dad he has the papers and data pads to prove everything and Prime megatron and his decepticons decided they were gonna fight IDW Optimus for custody of buddy and it ended somewhere along the line of Prime megatron ended up in the medbay completely unconscious and half of his army traumatized after they found out what an how angry a prime who is a father can really get (technically related to my story)

2.) Don't really know what to think for this one but what about IDW Bots meet G1 bots?

3.) Buddy from our world meet team prime and team megatron from cyber verse world? I would love that interaction

Oh and cyber verse starscream got really attached to her to the point he doesn't like sharing her attention which buddy has no problems with cause she knows why he is the way is. And maybe megatron and sound wave got attached too and devised plans to steal her and keep her the nemesis for a little while cause it's not everyday you meet someone who show so much affection

P.S feel free to write these last cause I know you are busy😃✌

This is a pretty big list, so I went with number 2, minus the Cyberverse part. I don't write for Cyberverse as of now.

Hope you enjoy!

Human Buddy from the real world meeting Team Prime

SFW, Platonic, Human reader

TFP

Buddy was starting to think that maybe the new coffee mixture they had made was really an elixir to travel dimensions.

They didn’t know how hard they hit their head when they saw Wheeljack arguing with Ultra Magnus.

The two bots didn’t even notice the human until they came literally running to Magnus’s pede and hugged him the best they could.

Buddy hugging Magnus’s pede: “If this is a dream I don’t want to wake up!” Magnus nearly jumps feeling the random human hug his pede. Wheeljack looks like he is going to glitch, though he doesn’t know for what reason. Wheeljack: “Hey… umm, kid what are you—” They turned their head so fast Wheeljack was sure that he heard a snap. The human starts running up to him rapidly shaking their fist in excitement: “Wheeljack! I can’t believe I’m actually talking to you! Either that or I may have found the limit of coffee I am allowed to drink.” Ultra Magnus and Wheeljack: “What?” Buddy: “Hey, aren’t you supposed to take me to meet the rest of the team? Isn’t it like, the whole protocol?” Ultra Magnus gives Wheeljack an uneasy look: “You seem to know quite a bit…” Buddy waving their hand: “I’ll explain that later, now, who am I climbing in?!”

When they arrive to the base, they are practically bouncing off the walls.

They are even more excited than when Miko first showed up.

In fact, the new human is excited to meet the kids, Fowler and June just as much as they are excited to meet the bots.

Miko has a taste of her own medicine and feels the need to apologize… someday.

Buddy does calm down when explaining how they know who they are and how they had been through a similar situation like this before.

That leads to more questions, but Buddy refuses to answer them.

Something about ‘Not wanting to mess with the universes’.

Buddy: “Anyways I need to keep you guys from finding out about some spoilers, like Bee’s voice coming back. Team Prime: “WHAT?!” Bumblebee: BEEP!? (MY VOICE?!)” Buddy: “…Rats…”

Optimus does allow Buddy to stay on the base while they wait until they return back home.

Most of the team thinks that another Miko is among them now.

And to a point they are right.

But Buddy also knows when to stop and tries to be useful around the base.

Buddy sweeping the human area. Miko: “This has been the third time you’ve cleaned this place this week. You can leave some stuff around you know?” Buddy still sweeping: “Ratchet finds the mess distracting; I’m just trying to lighten some of the load.” Ratchet, who overhears this now has to rethink his opinion of Buddy.

More respect is earned when they see Buddy football tackle Miko from going into the groundbrigde.

Many hugs are given on what seem like random days.

Those days turn out to be heavier than others and Buddy is always behind the bot ready to hug or do whatever they can to make them feel better.

Smokescreen walks into the base with his doorwings a bit drooped. Buddy running over to him: “Hey Smokes.” Smokescreen puts on a fake smile: “what’s up Buddy?” Buddy patting his pede and giving a genuine smile: “You’re doing great.” Smokescreen just nods because he doesn’t want to cry in front of Optimus. Later… Ratchet still on the main console. Buddy grabbing a blanket and places it nearby. Ratchet: “And what are you doing? You should be in bed.” Buddy: “That’s where you should be too.” Ratchet scoffs and continues working. Buddy: “Don’t think I didn’t see you put back your rations today.” Ratchet stops mid key stroke. Buddy: “I am NOT going to sleep until you get some energon and go to sleep.” Ratchet: “Well then prepare to stay awake for a long time.” Buddy cracking their knuckles: “Bring it! I’ve been awake for 3 days and 3 nights straight during exam week!” Ratchet suddenly worried for Buddy’s health: “…You win this round.” Buddy laughs in sleep deprived.

The bots are wrong to assume that Buddy wouldn’t pull a Miko.

… and now some are considering bringing them out with them.

Buddy fan almost as much as they do with the bots and some cons are now afraid of getting the feral human on them.

But Buddy has also thrown rocks at certain cons out of pure spite.

Buddy throwing some rocks at Breakdown: “SWALLOW YOUR PRIDE AND JOIN US!” Breakdown looking at the human questioning: “What?” Buddy still chucking rocks: “YOU COULD BE A GREAT AUTOBOT WITH YOUR POTENTIAL! BRING KNOCKOUT TOO!” Knockout: “I think this human lost it.” Buddy: “DO NOT LET YOUR MAN GO OUT HUNTING THAT TRAITOROUS SPIDER!” Arcee: “Finally something we agree on.”

[piratefishmama]

Fake it Till you Make It | Part 9

Eddie felt like he’d been dipped directly into some kind of crazy world where nothing made sense. Or rather where everything he thought was true, was actually the opposite.

He was in an opposite world where despite being the obvious odd one out, he was being made to feel comfortable instead of ostracized.

These rich people? Not assholes.

Steve Harrington? Not a douche.

Okay so… that was only two things, but they were two pretty huge things on the Munson Doctrine that he’d now need to mentally re-write

Especially when the response to “we’ve known each other since high school but—but I guess I never really thought much about him until I saw him with Robin at The Hideout, apparently he was making sure my band was child safe for Dustin and the other kids and I—"

Was, “your band?” Interrupting him may have been rude but Lynda looked damn near sparkly eyed at the idea of him being in a band, as if middle-class people like the parents he’d freaked out thus far only thought they knew how to behave to appear richer, and rich people were actually this whole weird little species of their own. “Steven here has always sort of gravitated toward talented people, first Nancy, I’ve never known a girl quite as driven to be heard by the people around her as that one and I’m a lawyer, I really admired her for that.”

“You did?” Steve asked in surprise, why had they never said anything?

“Of course I did! Karen told me she wanted to be a journalist, gosh let me tell you she’ll make an incredible journalist someday, we’re already proud of her.” They knew she wanted to be a journalist? They were proud of her? “Then there was Robin—"

“Robin is my friend.”

“Oh, I know” he didn’t like how she said that word, that know, she couldn’t know-know, right? How would she—how could she? No… no she couldn’t. Robin had never said anything, never hinted at anything, she was terrified of being known, scared of the consequences. It’d taken being stuck in a broken elevator at work and him freaking out about enclosed spaces to come out to him, and he’d had to, in a moment of panic so sure he was going to die in there, come clean about his crush on her for her to do it! “That doesn’t change the fact that you had a crush on her first, don’t think we don’t know about that, we do. Your children are loud.” Dustin. It had to be Dustin. Not the queer thing, the crush thing. He’d never even told the little snot about that, he’d just noticed it, latched onto it, and like a dog with a high prey drive, just refused to let go, shaking it around until it was nothing but tatters. “She’s so talented in linguistics. and languages aren’t easy let me tell you, I don’t know what she intends to do but she’ll go far in it when she gets there.”

Steve was just kind of waiting for the other shoe to drop, still semi-convinced that the whole thing was performative and that the second Eddie left, the moment Steve was on his own with them, they’d pull the rug out and it’d have all been for ‘show’ and they weren’t supportive at all.

He was ‘dating’ a musician. Not a rich one. An unknown musician from an unknown band, living in a trailer park, with zero prospects, zero connections, and frankly a terrible reputation around the parents of Hawkins for his little fake date scheme.

Surely that had to be breaking some kind of unwritten rule for rich kids. Right? Surely his parents would have expected more from him, right?

Surely this wasn’t actually okay… was it? Was it really okay? Could it be okay? If… if he actually wanted that? Would it continue to be okay, or were they just saving face until it was safe to return to being the disappointed set of parents he’d come to know as an adolescent?

“I didn’t know you paid that much attention…” Eddie squeezed his hand, he didn’t have to look at him to know he’d fixed those bring brown eyes on him all warm and supportive. There for him, if he needed him to step in.

If he needed him to make it all about him again, to shine the spotlight on himself in either a positive or negative light, Eddie would.

He squeezed back, he’d be okay.

“Oh sweetheart… we may not be the best at showing it, but we’re not blind. You were just a little harder to speak to when you were younger, all those parties, and the drinking, the drugs—”

“It was just—”

“Marijuana is a drug, son.” John finally spoke up and that was the end of that argument, although Eddie was visibly trying to hide a grin as the towns resident ex-drug dealer who’d maybe supplied that marijuana once or twice. “Not one a boy that age should have been consuming.” True, he’d kill the kids if he ever caught them smoking weed unsupervised.

Maybe if he was there, he’d let them do it once just to show them what it was like. But once would be the maximum, and they’d be supervised!

He’d been unsupervised surrounded by strangers with alcohol and bad decisions to make. He was lucky he hadn’t wound up knocking some poor girl up or something equally life destroying.

“Yes, like your father says it was difficult, your father and I… we had to be the bad guys more often than we’d have liked and then things at the office got busy and well… maybe all that put a strain on things, but we were never not paying attention, I’m sorry we made you think that.” Another gentle squeeze. Eddie was there.

He'd continue to be there.

“So Stevie here has a type is what I’m hearing” Eddie finally spoke up, breaking the tension, a small but warm smile on his face that Steve appreciated more than he could possibly say.

“So I like people to be passionate about what they like! I like intelligent people—”

“Oof, puts me out of luck then” Eddie cut in with a dramatic little pout on his face, hand over his heart.

“Are you kidding me? You’re smart, you’re really smart!”

“Dude I failed high school like, three times. Pretty sure they finally let me graduate out of pity.”

“Yeah but that was bullshit, not everyone is good at school. I barely passed an I’m still half certain I only did cause of the sports shit.” Maybe the money thing too “but you can come up with all kinds of stuff on the fly, I know you ‘DM’ for that dungeons and demons shit an you deal with Dustin, Mike, AND Erica like a pro and honestly that takes some work the kids are nightmare children normally, so it’d probably be actual hell when you have to believably improv their characters taking a liking to some random NPC you’ve conjured up to be a weird little one time interaction and—and I know you can recite Shakespeare! And come up with your own Shakespeare-like poems, that SOUND like Shakespeare, and you write your songs which is cool, and you play guitar which is tricky I know I tried once it’s not easy, and in debate, people couldn’t keep up with you ever and—” and he was rambling.

“—Dragons…” Eddie gently cut him off, eyes wide but his smile… it looked like a cross between awe and affection. It was beautiful, and the dimple was there which made it extra pretty. Fuck why was Eddie Munson so goddamn pretty all of a sudden?

Was it even sudden? “Huh?”

“Dragons… you know NPC, but you don’t know it’s Dungeons and Dragons…” he sounded so fond, so soft spoken it was strange… but a good kind of strange that made Steve’s cheeks warm “you—you know all that about me?”

“W-well… yeah I mean—we’re dating, of course I know about the Dungeons and Dragons stuff I—” he could explain it away for his parents but Eddie, who was in on their fake dating thing, emphasis on the fake couldn’t be so easily fooled.

“No, not the D&D stuff… the Shakespeare thing, poetry, debate class, you saw that?”

It was his turn to be bashful, to be shy, to squeeze that hand, to be honest about something he’d never thought too hard about but god he had to now, didn’t he? “…You were hard to miss, Eddie.” He’d grown up, he could appreciate what he’d scoffed and rolled his eyes at back when he was a dumb teenager, he could admit that he’d seen Eddie, that deep down, despite the scoffing, the eye rolling, that deep down he liked that.

Deep down he’d always liked Eddie. He just wished he’d have been less of a douchebag, maybe they’d have known each other sooner.

“Ehem” Lynda gently cleared her throat, not cruelly, her smile definitely a little mischievous, a little ‘i'm going to be INSUFFERABLE about this’ but not trying to break up the moment, she just had to ask “Eddie… I’m not sure if you still live at home, but… if you do, are your parents… okay with you being away for a week with total strangers? Do… do they know about—”

“Ah! Uhm, yeah! Well, yes and no. My parents aren’t really… around, I live with my Uncle Wayne, he took me in when I was a kid.” He wasn’t going into that story, and nobody could make him for the sake of a fake date scheme “He knows about me… uh… about us… he’s okay with it, but he did ask that he meet you both before we go, if I’m allowed to come with you?”

“We’d be thrilled to have you, Eddie, he can meet us any time he likes.”

Main Goal. Achieved.

Part 11