#trying to decide which text post to put with it

[deeplyshalllow]

I will agree with you that Fiyero is woefully underused in the musical, so we do have to use what we have to decipher what information we do have about him. Either way is headcanon.

However, this is what we get from act 1:

1) He is good at lying to people about who he is, all while being able to make himself likable

2) He is secretly unhappy and has been thinking about the day with the Lion Cub a lot

3) He takes the initiative to save Animals and help Elphaba, but in a way that doesn't immediately get them caught

With this in mind, along with his bitching in Thank Goodness and the fact that he immediately turns on the Wizard and runs off with Elphaba the moment he has a chance, I think it’s a much more plausible headcanon that he has always been working as a double agent than your headcanon that he’s decided instead to randomly embrace being a fascist.

“You're basing your interpretation of his character on speculation — because it is somewhat difficult, in some ways, to reconcile the compassionate boy we saw in the woods with the fascist commander he's become by Act II — but I'm basing my reading on sheer text; on the actions and statements on the page.”

Oh honey, you are so close!!! Maybe it’s hard to “reconcile the compassionate boy we saw in the woods with a fascist commander” because he isn’t one? Maybe if you “read by sheer text; on the actions and statements on the page” you’d realise that his actions in act one don’t make sense in act two if you read him as part of the regime? Are you sure you’re not “basing your interpretation of his character on speculation” because you don’t like Fiyeraba?

“Saying you'd totally join the Gestapo instead of the Resistance if given the chance — because of "resources and information" — is not the winning argument you think it is, I'm sorry, lol.”

Oh sorry, Fiyero should have just gone down to the resistance job shop and got a top post there! The resistance that, as far as we know, basically doesn’t exist, as it doesn’t seem like Elphaba has got much help either (we know there’s rebel Animals that shelter her, but she’s also at the point where she tries to beg her father for help and seriously considers just giving up and joining the Wizard). It is probably endlessly easier for Fiyero, especially with his connection to Glinda to get into the Gale Force.

You also completely ignored my second part of the argument. Someone has to do this job, if it’s not Fiyero it’s someone a lot worse. We know Fiyero has compassion for Animals, we know Fiyero wants to protect Elphaba (we literally see him doing so three times in act 2). If Fiyero places himself in command, however grim it might be, he now has some degree of control over Oz’s army and how much damage they can do to the Animals and Elphaba.

“None of which was REMOTELY planned, or even likely.”

It wasn’t planned that he’d meet her in the throne room, no, but it certainly was planned and relatively likely that, by putting himself as the head of the search for the Witch, that if she was found in a dangerous situation he could get her out of it. He manages to get all his guards away and for her to escape safely, he couldn’t have done this if he’d been in any other position.

If you’re talking about the wider context, no obviously Glinda taking over wasn’t planned from this. But you told me him being in the Gale Force achieved nothing, it saved Elphaba’s life and allowed the ending to happen.

“Yes, she was literally forced into that, lol. Claiming she wasn't forced into her position when she was literally captured and molded into an asset of the regime — and then moralizing about her trying to make the best out of her literal enslavement — whilst somehow insisting that Fiyero going out of his way to enlist as an armed servant of the regime wasn't "endorsing the regime", is actually absurd.”

Oh don’t you fucking dare. Don’t you patronise Glinda by saying she didn’t have a choice. Don’t you ignore those quotes I gave you showing how she enjoyed it. Even her sad verse in Thank Goodness imply she joined because she wanted it (and only later found out it wasn’t quite how she planned). No one was going to imprison her, (you think my headcanons are wild lol), in the movie she literally only went to follow Elphaba because Morrible told her to, in the play she was given a little more agency, but she still made it very clear she was going to “get her back”, there’s literally no reason at all to enslave her, even in their eyes she’s done nothing wrong.

But ok, let’s take your “enslavement” fantasy scenario. Fiyero is literally the next candidate for Morrible to “enslave”, she knows he and Elphaba were at least tentative friends, she might even have realised he was also absent after the day with the Lion Cub, he’s dating Glinda and his royal connections and fame and likeability make him a useful asset. If Morrible really is blackmailing people to join her on trumped up charges, it would be very easy for her to either use the Lion Cub situation to blackmail into it, or threaten to hurt Glinda if he does not.

Sounds far-fetched? Yeah, you’re right. He joined willingly. Like Glinda.

“He acted on spontaneous desire, as he always does, and is a nihilist who never gave a shit about any of the things (or people) he cast to the wind to begin with. "He lost everything" — and you expect me to find that brave and romantic, I take it? I don't. Throwing caution and care aside to run off and have a passionate night with the object of his affects isn't WRONG — and I've never said that it is — it's foolish and selfish and impulsive.”

This is headcanon.

This is canon: he pointed a gun at the Wizard to help Elphaba escape. He had to escape too. (Did they have to have sex in the woods? Obviously not, but that’s kind of not really here or there, the egg was already broken, might as well make an omelette).

“He doesn't think about the potential consequences of abandoning Glinda; for never cared about either his own safety or hers,”

I’m sorry, are you really blaming Glinda telling Morrible and the Wizard to spread a rumour about hurting Nessa on Fiyero? Talk about fucking victim blaming.

I’d argue he cares a lot about Glinda’s safety actually, it’s pretty telling that all three times he saved Elphaba in act 2 (funny, you haven’t mentioned that in your reply) he leaves Glinda in a place where she not only is safe but can’t possibly be seen as and arrested for supporting Elphaba. As for his own safety? Well he secures it in the throne room, by the cornfield scene he’s sort of out of options – so he gets his girls to safety and sacrifices himself – that’s not not knowing the consequences, it’s deciding he is ok with them.

“When he makes "plans", they're all very ad hoc and making resourceful use of situations that he absolutely did not (and could not) have planned for.”

Not the Elphaba faking her own death plan! That must have taken days as the scarecrow. And careful manoeuvring of everything involved!

“I think it's a bit sad that he behaves that way tbh: because it speaks to his pretty hollow existence, as Elphaba herself identified.”

Well I have happy news for you! He no longer has a hollow existence! That’s literally what act two is trying to tell us!

Elphaba: Fiyero, you frightened me. I thought, I though you might have changed.

Fiyero: I have... changed.

*

You’ve got me seeing through different eyes

Somehow I’ve fallen under your spell

and somehow I’m feeling it’s up that I fell

[Wicked Act II spoilers]

[edited for tone and clarity of purpose, apologies for initial crudeness and frustration]

Okay, obviously I'm biased, but I'm gonna need the Fiyeraba shippers to please set a lot of your people straight about some things. I've seen way too many people trying to say that Glinda is just a selfish bimbo and that Fiyero is a virtuous and selfless figure more worthy of Elphaba's love. I'll set aside for now the idea of "worthiness" in this context. But let's start off with Fiyero joining the Wizard. Hoo boy...

Yes, he was initially somewhat less tolerant of the propaganda against Elphaba than Glinda was; yes, he was secretly trying to find her so he could run away with her or whatever. But honey: those facts DO NOT fully absolve his actions as the Wizard's top officer, or selfish recklessness throughout Act II. I see so many popular threads and posts romanticizing and whitewashing with "oh but he didn't REALLY join the Wizard, he just pretended so he could try to get to Elphie! It's all for love, and he sacrificed everything for her!" As if the literal captain of the literally fascist forces responsible for the oppression of Animals wasn't equally responsible for said oppression?? Hello? Fiyero really didn't think of seeking out Elphaba in ANY other way that DIDN'T involve becoming *checks notes*... the trusted leader of the troops committing all the abuses she's fighting against in the first place???? Like it's cool and all that he helped with Brrr, and it's all well and good that he planned on betraying the Wizard as soon as he found Elphaba (which took literal years, so I guess we're left to assume he was prepared to just keep doing fascism indefinitely if she didn't show up????), but uh... it's kind of concerning to how eager some of you are to make excuses for this dude volunteering as the head of the Ozian Gestapo??? smdh

He didn't accomplish anything from it either, by the way — like yeah, we get it, he did everything he did whilst silently fantasizing about running away with the Witch he was being paid to hunt. Fine. But I can't be the only one who doesn't buy that as an actual excuse???? Like, guys: nobody forced him to join the fascist army — even with crazy ulterior motives. He wasn't coerced into it; it wasn't his only choice or anything. Searching for Elphaba did not somehow compel him to go and volunteer to follow (or to give!) orders in the name of the dictator who was trying to have her assassinated the entire time. He could have just not done all that. (Genuinely so curious how the second film plans on covering that material tbh)

Glinda made several questionable decisions that can be (and have been) debated, but she is still very unambiguously a victim. Her position in the Wizard's regime was foisted upon her. There are things we can discuss, but I find that many folks need reminding that Glinda would undoubtedly have been disposed of (or worse) if she failed to make herself useful. I mean hell: she wasn't even supposed to meet the Wizard in the first place — she was only there because of Elphie. If she'd tried to resist, it would have immediately gotten her labeled the Witch's accomplice. As soon as she'd chosen not to get on the broom, her fate was out of her hands, and all available options were varying degrees of horrible.

That's not the case with Fiyero. He went to the Wizard all on his own; no one ever cornered or forced him into it. Thinking Animals are people, and having a crush on Elphaba, simply did not stop him from carrying out the regime's orders — for years. It's not clear exactly how long he's been captain at the start of Act II, but the clear implication is that he's been a soldier for most of the time skip. I've seen Fiyeraba accounts with headcanons about him acting as a double agent, secretly doing stuff to help Animals — and that's a great idea, it would indeed serve to make a lot of his actions way more palatable — but until we actually get to SEE some of that (maybe they'll add it for the movie version of Act II; we'll have to see), there is nothing in the story to suggest that. He certainly didn't do a damn thing for all those Animals who were enslaved and caged in the Wizard's palace — and we don't see a single other Animal outside of there in Act II, so as far as we know Fiyero has participated over those years in the near-total removal of Animals from Ozian society. In the name of "finding Elphaba". Not fighting for her cause. Just finding HER. For HIMSELF.

It's fine to have a ship you like, obviously — and there is genuinely a lot to like about Fiyeraba, I don't dislike the idea of them as a couple or as friends — but come on guys: please stop those out there idealizing Fiyero as somehow a clear "morally-superior" alternative to Glinda, lol. The dude had power, access, and opportunities, for years, that he could have wielded in any number of really selfless, revolutionary ways. He didn't. And I propose (apparently controversially): he simply didn't want to. And that — at the end of the day — is (much as some would like to deny it) true to his character. He always WANTED to be self-absorbed and shallow, and all his actions are consistent with that. Elphaba saw depth and discontentment in him, yes: but (and I cannot stress this enough) when given the chance, he channeled that in the wrong direction. He didn't confront that and become a better person — for the most part he just displaced and projected it onto Elphaba as an object of obsession, and put on an even thicker pretense than before.

All his actions — regardless of the complexity he has deep down — are those of a man who never gives one fuck about anything or anyone, except (kinda sorta) Elphaba. But even then: at no time does the care he has for her seem to extend to caring about any of her wants or needs outside of sexual validation from him, or how she might feel about his actions, or indeed the impacts of those actions upon her, her cause, or anyone or anything else. I don't think it should be all that controversial to say: he doesn't think through the wider repercussions of anything he does — thoughtlessness is just one of his core character traits. He doesn't think ahead or see meaning in anything outside of what can temporarily excite him, in the moment. I think people place a little too much weight on Elphaba clocking him with regard to his internal pain, and seem to expect (understandably of course) that she is not only right, but moreover that he will grow from that in a positive direction, based on her influence.

But he doesn't. If anything, we get a surprising inverse: he pretty much proves her wrong. Not to say he didn't have hidden depth and all that, like she said: but his hypothetical heart of gold proves not to really amount to much in practice. He doesn't grow out of his shallowness and his self-centeredness: he grows into it in a way that he hadn't quite yet in school. Where once he was only masking an internal listlessness, after he's been cracked open by Elphaba he decides to be genuinely self-absorbed and deeply shallow, not just coasting by. He performs in new ways — as a soldier, eventually as a "fiancé", etc. — but by Act II we meet a Fiyero who has staked the last remaining shred of humanity in him on the vain pursuit of the only object of his desire that has ever been unavailable to him, and firmly chosen to say to hell with everyone and everything else.

When put to the test, Fiyero sacrifices Glinda, the Animals, and all else that Elphaba actually cared about, to pursue his own unresolved crush from college. Mostly to get in her pants, really — as harsh as I'm sure that sounds. But let me be frank: that is literally all he ever accomplishes in the show. He gives her dick one time, and one of his castles, and that's it. That's the culmination of his years trying to find her — years in which he actively worked as one of the stormtroopers (or even the one commanding them) committing untold crimes against Animalkind (who, again, it seems have been all but erased from Oz by Act II): y'know, the very crimes Elphaba sacrificed her life to try and stop????? He spent the most important time of his life — of his own free will — being a fascist soldier, but he "did it for her" somehow, so according to some, it's perfectly fine. Heroic, even. Yikes??

But let's make something very clear (since my original version of this post caught a lot of flak, including slurs and other rudeness):

I like Fiyero. I find his role extremely interesting (I could do a whole dissertation on him, but I'm especially a fan of the way his proving Elphaba's assessment of him wrong presents a fascinating parallel and contrast with Glinda, which I think is lost on a lot of people). But PLEASE stop with all the misguided Glinda slander and idealization of Fiyero. By all means, thirst! But don't give me all this bullshit about him deserving Elphaba more, or being super deep, or being really principled or noble or whatever else. He does have layers, and quite intriguing ones, but his insides are straw — he isn't meant to have some deep, overwrought emotional core or motivations; he has passions that he acts upon when given the chance. That's it. And that's fine. Actually kind of refreshing in a story rooted in simple children's fantasy but rife with intensely complicated personalities. Fiyero makes it his mission to represent denial of depth and embrace of raw, spontaneous desire — and I for one love that, and wish others appreciated it.

And in all seriousness, shipping wars aside: by the end of the story, it's Glinda who is ultimately vindicated, and has — for all her faults — made the necessary choices to fulfill Elphaba's wishes, bring down the regime, etc. And all that despite herself. She's miserable: not just because of the mistakes she made, but because of her correct moves as well. Fiyero is simply not — and could never be — that person. And that's okay! Like I said: I am not anti-Fiyero. Fiyero's willingness to throw it all away for the sake of sheer, overriding passion is a huge part of what people like about him, of course — and it's an obvious factor in the attraction between him and Elphaba, because she has her own flavor of that impulse as well — but I'd actually argue that it's not romantic, it's his fatal flaw. And thematically that's fantastic! But I just don't believe that it somehow means he "deserves Elphaba more" because he "gave up his life for her" or whatever. In part because NOBODY truly "deserves" Elphie tbh, not 100% (and I question anybody who claims otherwise), but ultimately because I don't accept the idea that his fleeting acts of passion make up for all the shit leading up to them (or even proceeding after them tbh). At least Glinda managed to do what Elphaba always wanted in the end — but I would die on this hill even if Gelphie didn't exist.

You don't have to agree with my analysis of Fiyero and his choices, relationships, etc. — that's fine. What isn't fine is trying to portray Glinda as some kind of spineless traitor whore for the Wizard and Fiyero as a conscientious hero who earned Elphie through self-sacrifice. That's just not the story that was written. It's WAY messier and more interesting than that.

[unsanctioned-if]

"Unsanctioned" demo will be up again soon

Having spent the past two days experimenting with speech to text and seeing how it feels to write, I have discovered that the former is very difficult to do for me when it comes to fictional writing which tbh I suspected would be the case, and the latter is also extremely difficult for me to manage with the injury even when it comes to coding and editing. It can be done, but...very slowly. In my last post I said that I would wait a week, but unfortunately I don't think it will make much of a difference.

With that in mind, I have decided to put the demo out (still) in its incomplete state. I will get back to working on it as soon as I am able to. Hopefully it should still be a smoother experience now compared to when it was released last month.

In the meantime, I will focus more on brainstorming, world building and working on stuff that doesn’t require as much direct writing and coding.

I also want to address the feedback I've gotten and the errors people have reported. I have tried to get to all of them, but some I have not been able to locate. I think it could in part be because of the different race + background variables to consider and how these sometimes mix and give different text. I have probably missed some entirely because of my own inattentiveness as well, and for that I’m sorry.

If you play the demo and notice errors or oddities, it would be very helpful and appreciated if you would send a message to my inbox and attach a screenshot so that I can see exactly where this happens since it is so much easier to find the errors exactly that way. Thank you so, so much to everyone who has been helping me with that <3

I will also get to answering more asks. I will try doing it using speech to text and then fixing it to make it sound somewhat coherent like I am doing right now. Sorry it's taking me so long to get to them.

I hope that I can get back to working on this story soon - if you read it and have any thoughts on it I would love to hear them!

[toastingpencils37]

Bruh, the ninja's aim with the cannon is fucking ass.

Every damn time.

Lowkey also going to vent in the tags for a minute

[julielilac]

Umbrella merch by his FC, the famous skirt-pants and Nike shoes 👀

[ragnars-tooth]

HII HAPPY NEW YEAR!!

As promised, here are seven wips from the last uhh 3 years I've been writing dragons book fanfic on my silly gay computer. They're a mix of unfinished/abandoned/in-progress-but-not-that-important-rn

There are summaries in square brackets between each separate fic with a quick description of what the fuck is going on, when it's going on (e.g. book number, where appropriate) and main players/relationships. (plus a fun little word-count and look at the last time i touched the file… yeah, fun… whoops). These have been bolded to hopefully make them a bit easier to see while scrolling at high velocity.

All under the cut because it's too long for me to do that to your dashboards 🫡

[Lucy & David, chatting about author photos post-book 4. 475 words. (Oct 2022 💀)]

“Hang on…”

David paused, finger still wedging the spine of the book open. He was staring at the flap of the dust cover, frowning slightly to himself.

“Did you use my student ID for my author photo?”

Lucy leant in closer. College David was a little younger than David Rain – same dark blue eyes, but with a rounder face and hair that hadn’t been bleached white by his time elsewhere. The dusty brown still crept in at the ends of his hair, where it was now stuck to the inside of his collar.

Lucy couldn’t remember how many times she had taken down her copy of The Nutbeast and stared at the little card. It was odd to compare the man who’d lived only in her head for so many years to the one sitting on the edge of her bed.

He looked tired now. In-her-head-David had never been tired.

“It was the only one mum had.” She said.

It was the truth; Liz had run through his entire film collection and hadn’t found a single photo of David’s face. He’d been more of a landscape photographer – lots of buses and bridges that hadn’t consoled her as a child. Well, a younger child.

David cocked his head to one side, looking decidedly distraught. “But it’s awful – that’s not an excuse!”

She glanced back down, as though the image might have twisted into something else in the time she’d released her focus from it.

Nope. Still David, if a little pixelly.

“It looks fine.”

His hair was staticky and spidering out in a mess of flyaways, and David had a slight manic glint to his eyes, grinning in an angular, uncomfortable way. There might have been a stain on his shirt – it was hard to tell.

“It does not.”

Lucy cocked an eyebrow. “And where did you want us to get another? Your return address isn’t even real.”

He flailed the book wildly, “I don’t even have parents! That makes it double your fault for not having a photo of me.” The cover was still propped open an inch or so, the paper caught on his ring. “There has got to be a better one in this house.”

“Can’t fix your face, David. They’re all going to look like that.”

“This is inhumane!” he sputtered.

Despite it all, Lucy found herself smiling.

“We used it at your… not-funeral too.”

“I’m sorry.” David scoffed, eyes very wide. “You used my student identification photo at my funeral?”

“And where were we meant to get another one? You were gone remember? Can’t exactly call ghostbusters and ask them to snap a photo of you.”

David frowned, nose wrinkling at the bridge.

“I don’t think they do that – they bust the ghosts, remember?”

Lucy rolled her eyes. “You’re a very annoying ghost. Maybe I should give them a ring regardless.”

-----

[Lucy & David, the audacity that some people have to move on and remodel the kitchen while you’re gone, really. 535 words. (March 2023)]

Irrevocably and stupidly, the only words he can get out of his mouth are:

“You moved the fridge.”

It’s not incorrect – it used to push up against the backdoor, and no amount of goodwill could stop you from nearly decapitating Bonny when he pattered through the cat-flap on short notice.

Now, it’s on the opposite wall – plastered in the same old stickers and fridge magnets reminiscent of days gone by. It’s the same fridge where he used to drink straight from the milk carton and look out over the rockery and crooked garden fence, but it doesn’t face the window anymore. David would have to turn fully around, which rather defeats the purpose.

It’s nothing intelligent, nothing profound – so much, so fucking much, has happened in five years and the only thing he can think about is the fridge, Lucy filling her water in the moonlight, barely tall enough to reach the faucet, and the rattling of the entire house in the winter months, post it notes and postcards and crayon drawings of a clan of squirrels.

There are new drawings now – Alexa’s, he thinks vaguely – but it’s not the same. She holds her markers much tighter.

It shouldn’t be a shock. It’s been so, so long since he was last here, but in the same breath it’s as though David had only closed his eyes for a second to rest, and the house has grown and shifted around him.

He knows that this is how things work, he hadn’t expected or wanted them to dig in their heels and sink into the snow with him. It’s a good thing, he tells himself, that things have changed, but he chokes on the inhale anyway.

He’s been left behind.

Lucy leans into the counter, dragging the cuff of her jumper between her thumb and forefinger. She bites the inside of her cheek the same way she did five years ago, but that’s wrong too.

It’s something in her eyes, something heavy and dark that’s never going away – she’s tired, much more tired than a child has any right being, and it seizes something in his chest.

He did this.

She sighs, moving to play with the collar of the jumper instead.

“Bonny likes to be big now and household fridges aren’t really made to withstand the force of a hundred-pound tiger… it got old real quick.”

David wants to say something, to lapse back into the way things used to be, but his mouth betrays him. He nods instead, and Lucy keeps tugging at the green fabric at her neck. It’s his old geography society jumper, he notices absently. It looks older than he feels, silver lettering faded black and brown, eroded away entirely in places. He hadn’t been to many of the meetings, not after truly being inducted into the Pennykettle’s nonsense, but the dusty smell of the common room and their pilfered coffee machine fills his nose.

It makes him want to gag. Where exactly are those members now? The idea of what will become of them if he fails has the prickle of ice rising just under his skin.

How can things be so much the same and so different all at once?

-----

[Henry & David: excerpt from the wider ‘wouldn’t you be mad as hell if you were a normal guy and found out your birth dad is your landlady’s new boyfriend?’ au, post family dinner explosion/revelation. 703 words. (September 2023)]

“Exiled from my own house.” He muttered darkly.

Henry arched a massive eyebrow. “You don’t pay the rent, boy.”

“I do – that is literally the one thing I do.”

“That’s rough, man.” Tam mumbled, hands weighed down by the tall coffee mug he had pilfered. It tipped dangerously as he raised it to his mouth, threatening to douse them all in yet more sludge. Henry frowned and steadied it with one hand. Tam blinked slowly and reset his angle.

“There’re camping beds under the stairs. You can set yourself up in the living room.” Henry narrowed his eyes at the two of them, “You will not be rumpling my upholstery by sleeping on my sofa.”

Tam hummed, setting his mug down owlishly before slogging out of the kitchen. He looked much more jelly than human, and David had half a mind to go and help him before he gave up on assembling the bed and curled up in a heap on the floor. He wasn’t sure if that had been on Henry Bacon’s extensive list of house rules or not.

“Did you know for long?” Henry asked quietly.

The tone took David off guard, breaking him out of his considerations of how comfortable Henry’s plush carpet was and how likely it was Tam was going to get a good night’s sleep in the inevitability that he collapsed from exhaustion.

“Know what?”

“Don’t be stupid boy.” Henry huffed, his eyes softening more than David had ever seen. It was an odd expression for the hard lines of his face. “How long did you know Arthur was your father?”

He laughed.

Turning his wrist to check the face of his watch he answered,

“Oh, about seven hours.”

“Mm, so ruining dinner was a crime of passion then.”

“Or you could say Arthur ruined dinner twenty-three years ago. Ultra-pre-meditated.”

Henry sighed.

“Don’t start writing crime novels, boy. You’re dreadful.” “It must have been a shock to the system then, you’re not one to get angry.”

David shrugged. It sounded almost like a compliment. Two years ago he would have told you with full certainty that dragons were a fantasy. Now they warmed his tea in the mornings. A lot of things had changed in his life since then.

He shifted his mug between his hands and took another sip. The dregs were starting to cool.

“It would have been better if it had been literally anyone else. Arthur’s been so… kind to me since we met and all this… it’s just-” his nose scrunched, “highly contradictory to everything I thought I knew.”

David’s family had come up in conversation before – once Henry Bacon had hold of a thread he yanked and yanked until it came loose, no matter how many loose teeth he took with it. Perhaps that was why he and Tam got along so well.

It was no secret how David felt about the concept of his father. Henry Bacon had shared enough choice words about the man himself that David had to wonder what calculations were running in the back of his mind. Was he unravelling all of his interactions with Arthur, sliding the threads under a microscope? Was he a good man? Honourable?

David didn’t have the answers to that himself.

He shook his head to clear it.

“It doesn’t matter. He’s barely a father – he wasn’t there to raise me and he certainly wasn’t there when I needed him.” He rolled his mug around to observe the escaped leaves. “I think you did a better job at that.” 

“Arthur’s… a complicated man. I’m sure you two will be able to have a civil conversation once this is all said and done.”

When exactly does this get to be done? He wasn’t sure anyone could tell him that. Not for all Arthur’s understanding of the universe and all its components therein was there an equation he could use to fix this. Replace x and y and find how he had missed this. To be so impossibly close and so far away at the same time. No doubt, he would have invented time travel before he would have noticed what sat right in front of him.   

David hummed into his empty mug.

“Sure.”

-----

[Tam/David, General Pennykettle Clan. David is weird after being resurrected, and everyone has questions about Co:pern:ica. There is another family dinner because those are all I write apparently. Tam and David go for a smoke break. 3067 words. (November 2022)]

“’Not like it can kill me anyway.” He says. “I didn’t eat for four years, it’s not like a bit of smoke will do me in now.”

The silence is suddenly oppressive, and when David looks up the entire damn table is staring at him, slack-jawed. He has missed something.

He quirks an eyebrow.

“What?”

“Four years?” Liz is still holding the plate of roasters, stuck in the motion of sliding more onto her plate with the flat of her knife. There is something akin to real horror in her eyes. 

“I was dead for one, yes.”

She extends the plate to him jerkily. “Then you’d better make up for it now.”

Ah! Yes, the human concept of starvation, he’d forgotten that one. Generally pretty upsetting to the average person – makes sense.

David pushes the plate back her way, gentle not to disturb the roasters as he laughs. They’re the herb covered kind and it would be a dire shame to spill them all over the floor, no matter if Bonny might thank him.

“No, really. I’m fine. Had other things to worry about – slipped my mind if anything.”

Other things, yes… let’s say that, shall we?

Arthur has inclined his head towards him in the way that means he’s grabbed the string of an intriguing theory and intends to tug it until the entire tapestry unravels. He gets that look about him a lot.

David shivers despite the British cold always being abrasively hot to him these days. What an odd image to set him on edge.

“Would you call that typical for the Fain? Not needing to sustain a physical body?”

He rolls the unlit cigarette around between his fingers.

“No,” David hums, “I don’t think it’s a Fain thing, I think it’s a dead thing.”

“But you’re not dead now, are you?” There’s a tension in Zanna’s words that he wasn’t expecting. If he were sentimental he might have called it concern. But he’s not sentimental, he’s Fain – he doesn’t do that anymore.

David shrugs. “Not entirely sure if I count as alive either.”

“You do.” She’s quick – always has been to cut off the things she doesn’t want to hear. Zanna has made it clear enough that she doesn’t like the thought that David Rain was never real, that he was some construct given life. He can’t blame her.  

“Can we not talk about how you’re dead or not dead.” Lucy snaps, her plate clinking a dangerous tone when she slams down her fork. David flinches at the sound. Tam has his eyes on him again. “You’re finally back and I don’t want to think about -” she glares at the fireplace, “-all that. I just want to have dinner again.”

He feels a twinge of the heaviness and lightness of space winking back at him. The same sensation of holding Bergstrom’s pocket watch in his open hand and staring into its face, and all that that entails.

Good, it seems to say to him, you’re not here to be liked.

“’Course. Sorry, Luce.”

She shakes her head, and seems to think better of whatever was on the tip of her tongue. She picks up her fork again and returns her gaze to the plate,

“Whatever, answer Arthur’s physics questions.”

David slides his Yorkshire pudding onto her plate in some semblance of a peace offering. Lucy douses it in gravy and almost smiles at him.

“It’s probably an… Illumination thing, rather than a Fain thing.” He tucks the cigarette into the pocket of his shirt. With the way Arthur has crossed his hands on the tablecloth there is no way David is going to get a smoke break any time soon. “I was in limbo for a long time, but I remember that my parents used to cook.”

Those eyes are all on him again. Even Bonny has plodded back into the living room to stare at him, though he’s probably waiting for one of their entourage to drop a piece of chicken.

The cat glides under the table, and from the sound of pattering paws David can hear him settle in Arthur’s lap. The professor removes a hand from the table to rest in Bonny’s fur. Then his eyes move from the patch of wall over David’s shoulders to his face.

Right. Being stared at. That’s what’s happening.

“Not my parents,” he corrects. “One of me’s parents.” That’s worse.

“The me that does not have this specific earth body, but existed in Co:pern:ica.” Better? “The me that had parents.” Nope, that’s even worse.

No one looks like they know what to say. He can’t blame them. This whole family thing is a mess.

“We do eat.” He settles on, then shoves a piece of parsnip in his mouth for good measure. He is safe for the next five to twelve seconds, if he really pushes it.

They’re curious, but no one wants to touch that mess, so Arthur breaks the quiet of everyone glancing off awkwardly at various décor, grimacing slightly. “You had mentioned that the Fain don’t do many menial tasks unless they’re unavoidable – if you remember it that way, then you’re likely right.”

“Well, I don’t remember it, but based on Co:pern:ica David, I’d say so.“ Good Godith, what was in that fucking wine? “His parents cooked, so they had to eat. Probably...”

The looks return, so he moves on quickly, waving his hands vaguely.

“Multiple timelines,” he says, “There’s several me’s, doing about the same thing now. Several you’s too. I’m just aware of them because of the d- Illumimation thing.”

Why did you say that?? Now they’re going to want to know-

“There’s multiple of us?” Tam looks at him over the rim of his glasses, half-smirking, “What, am I still a journalist?”

“Uhhh…” Well. “Of a sort. It’s hazy, but I think you worked for the media.”

Don’t say he got arrested, don’t say he got arrested, don’t say he got arrested for treason and left for dead, don’t say he used to look at you with admiration in his eyes, and that stupid overgrown haircut, don’t say you were jealous of the way he looked at Rosa, for God’s sake David you can keep your thoughts to yourself you stupid bastard.

“You guys have a media?”

Oh great, you’ve just made him more interested. Good job, jackass!

David tries to make a non-comital sound in the back of his throat. It comes out strangled. Zanna frowns at him as she sips her wine.

“Very… State-operated, if you get my drift.”

Tam, ever the journalist, has just opened his mouth to probe for more answers when Liz cuts him off. She has piled up the empty plates in her quadrant of the table. David hopes it isn’t obvious that he’s floundering, but from the fact that she’s diffusing the situation he has to accept that it probably is.

“Well, don’t leave us hanging – who were the rest of us,” she laughs, “who was I?”

You used to read me to sleep. You painted the walls of my bedroom green when I said the grey made me sad. You were the only person we knew who made things with her hands instead of Imagineering them. You went to the Dead Lands and made life. You were my –

 “You were a potter.”

Tam rolls his eyes,

“God, are we all boring?”

It makes him oddly defensive for some reason.

“Zanna worked at the librarium.”

You know the reason. You knew all of these people in a way they can never know. You’ve loved them every universe you’ve been alive in. You always will. They cannot know that. It would be too hard. It would make you cry, and the Fain don’t cry.

“Librarium?” Arthur asks, Bonny’s round face pouting over the edge of his plate, eyes focused on the sliver of ham across a moat of gravy. It’s safe for now, it’ll take at least another ten minutes for Bonnington to figure out that he can step up onto the table.

“It’s… basically a library, but the books are alive and it’s run by Henry Bacon.”

“Mr Bacon?” Lucy looks frankly appalled at the idea.

“A weird Fain Mr Bacon, yes. I think I – I think the other me was living there.”

“Like when Gwiliana kicked you out.”

David snorts. “Yeah, like the week from hell.”

He shakes his head, re-adjusts course, then looks back to Arthur. “We haven’t had physical books in over a hundred years – the librarium was where they all went, Henry-” he nods to the woman on his right, “-and Zanna kept them in order.”

He sips from his glass.

Probably a bad idea, you’ve been running your mouth all night. Shut up.

“They were bloody tricky bastards.”

Zanna looks at him oddly. Her brows are pinched but she doesn’t seem overtly disgusted with the idea. It’s possibly the first time she has been at least neutral on the discussion of the Fain.

On the discussion of who you are.

“You couldn’t have lived at a library. You would’ve made a pig’s ear of it.” Her voice is not cold – it’s a joke, probably. She thinks it’s funny.

“Oh, I did.” He pauses, tries to recall the details. The librarium is hazy for some reason.

He recalls Rosa and her kicker boots, lying in the grass by the well, firebirds overhead. He remembers being eleven, reading about pianists… then being… twenty? He decides not to poke around too hard in that gap, though its vastness is mildly concerning.

He worries that there is something there that is worse than not knowing.

You felt that way before. When you were first living at the Crescent. You had huge gaps in your childhood. Scattered dates and one or two fixed points. You don’t even know if that was real. You don’t know if you want it to be.

David swallows thickly, “I don’t… actually remember what happened while I was there – while he was there. But he must have been there about ten years – that’s what the memories tell me anyway.”

You wanted me to leave the librarium so I would stop distracting you. You made me daisy chain bracelets and we used to curl up in the hammocks together to read. There wasn’t enough room but I would race you to see who could finish their volume faster. You almost always won, but I paid more attention to the details. I never did understand what was meant to be more or less important – it was in the book, so it had to be relevant, right? Mr Henry said we complimented each other nicely.

David is vaguely aware that he has slipped into a long silence. He watches Tam glance across the table at Zanna. His fingers itch for that cigarette.

“There are two of us left wise guy.” Lucy says, finally pushing her plate away. She hasn’t touched the sprouts. She never does. “What did Arthur and I get up to?”

He pretends to think for a moment, leaning back in his seat. His plate still has a mound of mash and peas. It’ll get cold and start going soggy soon. He hasn’t felt hungry since he died. He’ll still eat it.

David rolls his shoulders.

“Arthur was a physicist – it goes over my head but I think it was something to do with time.” Arthur tips his head not unlike a dog. He would love more details but David isn’t lying when he says he doesn’t get it.

You were my dad. You worked a lot. You did a good enough job when I did see you.

“I think… you had a cool name. It’s on the tip of my tongue”

Lucy snorts. “Boring. Just me left!” She arches a curious eyebrow – the one with the carefully placed slit. “And I better be more interesting.”

This is vague too. She’s young – no, really young – and then she’s… less young? But still a little kid. There’s the same chasm in his memory.

How can I know she’s my sister and have no idea when she was born? How do I have no clue what happened after I left – is it just too close? Do I need to write it down?

At the thought of writing a familiar green snout noses its way into his head. Zookie sits on his desk, looking up at him expectantly. The little dragon taps his pencil on the edge of his pad in a way that betrays some irritation. I can’t believe you’re making me fish through your memories, he’s saying.

Nonetheless, Gadzooks scribbles down his answer, then flips the wire-bound book so David can decipher it.

Angel.

It makes his mouth go dry. What the hell did Lucy have to do with an angel, and why does it make him so uneasy? Zookie shrugs and, as he dissipates like smoke, David takes a long drink.

When he finally has enough sense about him not to melt into the carpet or storm off into the night and never return, he smiles at Lucy.

“You were the most boring child I’d ever met in my life. You liked maths.”

“I still like maths!” Lucy snaps, rolling her eyes. “I’m an engineering student!”

David shrugs, “You literally can’t get more boring, Luce.”

She lobs a pea at him and Liz starts gesturing at the two of them with her ladle. There’s the usual lecture about acting like adults, and how Lucy really should know better by now, but David isn’t listening. His eyes keep drifting to the window, out into the garden. He feels odd, though he can’t place it.

He shakes it off – talking about the Fain, delving into the memories of people who are him but not quite always has him disoriented afterwards – that’s all.

And whatever Gadzooks is on about will either happen or it won’t. He can dwell on it later. For right now, Tam is staring at him over the head of his beer – half empty. That seems a little more pressing than Zookie’s one-word puzzles.

-

“I’m gonna go take that smoke.” David says, already out of his seat by the time Zanna can send him a wayward glance. She still seems uneasy – she sees something in his face that she doesn’t like, her brows furrow further and she returns to her wine.

Liz sighs, but makes no move to stop him. “Just don’t throw the butt in the bushes,” she says, “I don’t want you setting all of Scrubbley on fire.”

“Will do.”

He sends her a mock salute, then dips around the door into the hallway.

Tam is three feet behind him when his hand is on the front door. “Figured you might need a lighter.”

David looks back to him before pushing the door open. “You are a shock Mr Farrell! A poet and a smoker – Liz will never approve.”

He gets a wry smile in response. “You started it – you’re the favourite ‘round here anyway. We can call you a bad influence on me.” He pats his jacket pocket – it’s the one with the tartan print lining that comes through at the hood and the cuffs. “Do you need that light or not?”

David pushes the door the rest of the way open, then stops it open with his weight.

“I think between us we should be able to manage.”

They sit on the brick wall that lines the entire front side of the Crescent. It’s perhaps a little too low even for David, but it beats standing around in the cold air, shifting your weight from foot to foot until the cigarette is biting your fingers.

Tam extracts a beaten-up silver lighter from his pocket, then fiddles with the latch for a moment. The cigarette resting on his lip wobbles as he swears, failing the ignition several times.

“No juice?”

He sighs.

“Not even a spark.”

David shrugs, “’s alright, I do have a back-up for when handsome journalists don’t have a lighter.”

He leans closer into Tam’s space, cupping his hands in a small bowl.

He had done this before – maybe not in this life, but the echoes of the action were strong enough that he could feel the order of operations like a phantom pain.

He felt vaguely that he was cupping his hands more to protect it from the wind than as a necessary motion. It would appear when he closed his eyes and thought it – dreamt it.

He conjured up the image of a small candle flame, the orange hue and white core, flickering slightly but solid enough in shape and colour.

Someone was talking over his shoulder – several someones, whispery and faint on the wind. The main voice was familiar enough – Liz, but not quite. He chooses to ignore the difference.

He feels the bright heat and the wobbling shape, forces it to become real, then David Rain opens his eyes.

It isn’t that impressive for a little light that has completely shattered several laws of physics. It looks more like David is hiding a birthday candle in his palms. A very small, very shit birthday candle. Been there, he thinks.

Tam, however, had clearly not been there. His eyes have gone wide, and the cigarette looks in serious danger of tumbling straight out of his mouth.

“Fuck me.” He mumbles.

“Not right now.” David says, raising his hands to his mouth.

The flame is real enough to catch, and David is soon offering his palms to Tam. He bends his head to accommodate the spark.  

Once the second cigarette is lit, David pulls his hands away from one another, extinguishing the light. Tam takes a drag, still staring wide-eyed over the rims of his glasses.

“Jesus fuck. Have you always been able to do that?”

David laughs. Have I, indeed.

“First time.”

“Christ.”

He takes a drag of the cigarette. Two men puffing smoke on the front door-step of the dragon-potter’s house – it was no wonder that rumours of real, scaly dragons have popped up in the neighbourhood. David imagines there might be more rumours of that calibre soon, but pushes it to the back of his mind.

“You had something to ask me.”

He considers denying it for a moment, then lets it go.

“I did.” Tam says, chewing over the next syllables in his head before he finally lets them loose, “Are you alright?”

-----

[David/Zanna. I hit early series David with the transgenderism beam. Zanna does David’s makeup, she has feelings about it. 1038 words. (31 December 2022… omg happy birthday ‘transes ur gender.docx’)]

It’s a joke.

It’s a joke.

Zanna has joked approximately a thousand times that he has the right face for makeup. That David has nice lashes and deep eyes and a just slightly soft jaw. He is indulging in the joke.

It means absolutely nothing, other than that he has a sense of humour.

In fact, it’s so funny that David is sat stock-still. Committing to the bit and allowing his partner to work her magic is going to make the outcome objectively so much funnier.

It’s a little bit secondary school sleepover – not the type that he’d ever been to, of course, there were a few more dicks and a bit less lip-gloss at those, but the thought remains – David perched on the edge of the bed, Zanna leaning tantalisingly into his space, a look of wicked concentration on her face.

He continues to avoid Zanna’s eyes. If he catches them then he’ll just start laughing, and then Zanna will start laughing, and then they’ll be a mess and the joke won’t get finished. Given the time she’s spent on his eye-shadow, it would be a shame at this point.

Lucy had never really been into makeup, or at least none of the fancy stuff. But she had found the idea of doing him up absolutely hysterical. She’d offered a hundred times but the thought had always struck something deep inside him – annoyance, was it? That she felt like he was a doll to practice on, maybe?

That she would absolutely fuck it up on purpose?

And considering the whole joke is that Zanna’s going to make him look like a girl, what would’ve been the point in fucking it up? They’ve already established that being overly serious is hilarious.

That looking convincingly like a girl when he’s not one is the peak of comedy. 

On the desk over Zanna’s shoulder, Zookie huffs. He twiddles the pencil between his paws, scaley eyebrows drawn together.

He flips the page and looks up at David. Whatever he was hoping to see, he does not, and the dragon shakes his head, tapping the book with some impatience.

Hmph, David thinks, if only you had some way to tell me things that we’ve used a dozen times. Or a language we both speak. What a crying shame.

“Alright?”

“Fine.” His voice is a little rough from disuse and nothing else. They have been sat in silence for quite some time.

“Sure?” a brush flicks around the corners of his eyes, “It’s not getting in your eyes, is it?”

“No.”

She snorts to herself, dropping the brush back into a basket of the bastards.

“You’re being very talkative, darling.”

“Sorry, I forgot I was meant to.”

“Relaxing when other people do your makeup, isn’t it?”

David hummed.

“Becca always falls asleep when I do hers. Nightmare when you’re meant to be going out somewhere.”

“Becca?” He tried to conjure an image of Zanna’s older sister in his mind. The result was a woman who was very much normal. Or at least, not someone who dresses remotely like her sister. “Isn’t your style a little… much for her?”

“Oi! She’s not boring, you know. And anyway, I can tone it down, and I am right now. I wasn’t aware you wanted me to make you a gothic princess, David.”

Oh, that might have been ni- funny, it would have been very funny.

It would have been nice to see himself in so much makeup because it would have enhanced how funny the entire situation was.

Which it is right now – funny.

When he doesn’t answer, Zanna knocks him gently with her elbow.

“I’m joking, you clod. You’ve got a perfectly normal face going on. The old ladies in Sainsbury’s will live.”

The idea of leaving the house like this – whatever this looks like – sends a jolt of ice down his spine. It’s an electric feeling that he doesn’t know how to place. It sits deep in his chest in a way that almost hurts. Somehow he’s not sure that it’s a bad hurt.

He forces himself to laugh, though it comes out a little mechanical. If Zanna notices, she is too busy trying to drag the eyeliner across his face in a straight line to comment.

“What’s the point then? Go big or go home, eh?”

-

“Et, voila! What d’you think?”

He looks himself in the eyes and a jolt of panic runs the entire way through his body.

Oh God.

It’s a thin pane of glass in the Pennykettle’s bathroom, but David is half convinced that if he reaches out, his hand will pass straight through the frame.

That’s not him. It can’t be.  

He watches himself crumple before he feels it happen, and once he cracks, the entire thing goes.

Zanna’s arm wraps around his middle, and she starts to pull him gently away from the mirror. David’s feet are cemented to the tile, they continue to stare over her shoulder at the reflection. They’re not convinced they could look away if they tried, as if some ancient magic has bound them to the spot, encased them in ice.

Their reflection is crying. Zanna brushes a hand through their hair carefully.  

“Hey.” She says softly. “We can take this off, if you want.”

She’s already leaning for the makeup wipes when David’s head shakes.

“It’s not that…” Their voice catches, much smaller than it ever has been before. “It’s not bad.”

Then what is it?

The eyeliner has tracked all the way down to David’s chin now, and Zanna wipes away the offending drop before it can stain their jumper. Only when she blocks the mirror fully from view does David look back to her.

“No?” she asks. She’s whispering, like this moment is something that could be broken by a raised voice. David’s not so sure that’s wrong. They find themself leaning minutely towards Zanna. “Then what is it?”

“That’s me.”

The waves finally crash to shore.

It washes over Zanna quickly, and David watches as the words hit them both full force. Her eyebrows arch, and the whites of her eyes widen around her dark irises. But just as quickly, any surprise is gone.

“Oh.” She whispers. “Oh, love.”

-----

[Tam vs Lucy. After winning at the battle of Isenfier, everyone bickers. Tam suffers. (yoinked from larger wip about the fallout of Isenfier) 576 words (June 2024)]

Tam blinked to clear his head. Right…

“The… cat.”

Lucy frowned in that vicious way that all teen girls seemed inherently skilled at.

“She’s a girl now: keep up, Tam!”

He raised his hands in mock-defence, “Right, sorry. And this girl is… our problem why, exactly?”

Lucy huffed again, as though she thought Tam was being particularly dense. Perhaps he was, but he rather thought he was owed a little more leniency on account of only recently having been un-buried-alive. God forbid he be a little behind on his dragon apocalypse lore.

“She’s one of us. She stays.” She crossed her arms in front of her chest and jutted her chin in Tam’s direction indignantly. “There’s room in the car, anyway.” She added, as though that was that.

Tam chose to ignore that this was his car, and that it was rapidly going to become a tight squeeze if they continued to adopt every miscreant they encountered in the West Country. Surely ‘Bella’ had family, somewhere? She hadn’t always been a cat - right? - and therefore didn’t really have to become their problem. Though, undeniably, it was difficult to argue with the rapidly deflating look on her face; if she started to cry Tam wasn’t sure he’d be able to argue. Perhaps someone could lay in the boot if it got too cramped. Maybe Zanna would do him a favour and knock him out before he had to do the tetris-ing himself.

“That’s very kind of you, Mr Tam.” Bella said, as if Tam had anything to do with the offer. Lucy gestured wildly and with finality to indicate that everything had, obviously, been sorted.

Zanna and David were exchanging looks to the side. “We’ll discuss this in the morning,” Zanna eventually settled on, “No one’s going back to Scrubbley tonight anyway.”

Lucy started.

“Why not? We have to tell mum that everything’s okay – she needs to know it worked and that the ix are gone and-”

David clapped her on the shoulder, having to look up a little to counteract Lucy’s lankiness.

“It’s fine, squirrel. We’re all going to have a chill evening to cool down from saving the world, and let Liz know over the phone not to expect us back yet-” He pat his chest, where the inner pocket of his jacket sat, and blanched. “With the phone I don’t have anymore… where the hell has that gone?”

David let go of Lucy’s shoulder and began to check the rest of his numerous pockets. It was a bizarre interpretation of the dance Tam’s father had done every few feet when he walked through an airport. After smacking enough of his clothing and finding them bereft of his beaten up mobile, David eventually gave up, slicking a hand through his hair and sending dust and soil through it in dark streaks.

“Well, that’s somewhere. Never mind, I’ll call her at the lodge.”

Tam patted at his own jeans and was, for a moment, fooled by a particularly hard wad of dirt. He was forced to admit that he too had lost his phone. It was going to be a damn pain to replace.

“There’s not going to be any electricity at the BnB. This entire place is shredded.” Tam said, as he certainly didn’t have a phone of his own to offer.

“I’m sure I can figure something out.” David said.

Zanna rolled her eyes.

“Why do I hate the sound of that?”

-----

[Sophie & Zanna, end/post book 2, reflecting on the whole ‘wait is this cheating??’ situation (no it’s not, it’s Zanna having a big gay crush on Sophie that she will never completely recover from/come to terms with). They should’ve made out 😔. 277 words (November 2024)]

“Sorry, I – I didn’t know. About you and David.” Once she’d said it, Zanna wasn’t strictly sure it was true. She’d known David had a girlfriend; she just hadn’t cared. It didn’t seem that David had either. She felt herself flushing at the thought, well aware that she’d been caught in the act.

“No harm no foul.” Sophie said, an easy smile on her cherry pink lips. Her eyes crinkled at the corners – the irises very blue, like syrup dripped through ice. She didn’t seem to care in the slightest that Zanna had been enabling her boyfriend to cheat on her. “I was on my way to break up with him officially and we were pretty much over in October. You’re not on my territory, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Sophie’s territory truly hadn’t concerned her at all – clearly – but Zanna still felt offbeat, an uncomfortable sweat building at her forehead. Sophie was far too calm about the entire affair, her straw blonde hair tied back in a ponytail low at the base of her neck, strands tickling her face. She brushed one away with her knuckles and brought her hand back to rest in her coat pocket. There was a security in the way she stood – relaxed, unbeaten by the breeze.

Zanna tucked a loose braid behind her ear, the beads and charms clinking in uneven tones.

“It wasn’t his idea.” She found herself saying regardless, feeling like a child at confession. “I kissed him first.”

Sophie’s eyebrows quirked curiously. Her smile widened, top lip curling away from her teeth. She inclined her head gently. “I would imagine so. He’s dreadfully slow with anything romantic.”

[fmhobeus]

so, nerdy loser college boy choso *sighs* *opens legs*

a/n: just so you know, this man is gonna make you do all the hard work for a piece of that loser boy dick 😮‍💨 so... um so at some point around 2000 words in i realised this is way more than a hc post :3 eat it up if you will!

nerdy!choso who borderline has no friends except his gaming buddies who doesnt meet irl like ever. he doesnt like going to classes, especially this one. he doesnt need it but it's a requirement for all first years. and boy is glad it is when he sees you come in.

nerdy!choso who only listens to discussions when you're talking. suddenly he needs to put down his headphones and nod at every word you're saying. his eyes follow every gesture of your hand, every sway of your ass, every single time you fix your hair.

nerdy!choso who is starting to get a bit enamored with you, your style, your way of speaking. he loses track of time gawking at you in class from the last benches as you prettily do all the work in the class. he hates how beautifully your hair falls on your face, how nicely your clothes fit you despite being pretty modest for college. he hates how he can see the silhouette of your tits when you turn to the side. but he's too much of a gentleman to keep looking.

nerdy!choso who ends a game early when he remembers you, lying and saying that he had promised someone to meet them somewhere. the place is his bathroom and the person was you. god, you really shouldn't wear those tight jeans to class y'know? how will he continue to be a gentleman if you do?

nerdy!choso who despises groupwork but prays to dear god this class has some reason to pair you two together. he's getting so desperate to talk to you knowing damn well he too pussy to do it on his own. and the lord answers his prayers, the teacher assigns groups of three for a presentation. it's you, him and some slacking trust fund baby.

nerdy!choso who is about to combust and have a full blown panic attack when he sees you approach him after class with that smile on your face that would make the angels swoon. you're going on about distributing the work equally and what not while he is trying his fucking hardest to not accidently make eye contact with you and piss his pants : (

nerdy!choso who now has your name, your number and your email and he feels like the happiest man on earth. his hands are literally shaking as he responds to your request to call. he's overthinking every word he types.

choso: yeah i can do wednesday. choso: i'll be okay with whatever day you want.

nerdy!choso who hops on video call and short circuits with a view of you in an oversized band tee and a brief view of your room. why did you have to be this pretty? why did you have to video call him when you couldve done the work on text? why did you have to put your hair up like that? why oh why did you have you say "choso? hey, you there?" so seductively to bring him back to the present?

nerdy!choso who gets like no work done in a 30 minute call which felt like three hours. he knew he would hardly be paying attention so decided to record the call with your consent, saying he'd need the notes you were typing out on screen only to play it back and stroke his dick to you for what might've have been the twentieth time this week. his strokes only getting faster as you say his name in that voice he imagines sounds way better moaning and screaming it instead.

nerdy!choso who, after the presentation, is on greeting terms with you when he sees you studying in the library. he sits as far away from you as he can while still being able to see you. occupying the coziest corner of the library to stare at you study right when you come up to him.

"can i join you, choso? i'm all alone and your space seems comfy" you say with a smile, "of course, i dont mean to disturb you, is saw you were on your own too, so..."

uh oh, uh oh, uh oh. god no. please no. please dont say yes. please dont be staring at her like some dumb idiot (too late) please.

"uh... yeah sure why not?" he awkwardly says as he makes room for you to keep your things. he was such an idiot for thinking he could say no to your pretty face in the first place.

nerdy!choso who is absolutely drunk on your scent. it feels way better than any alcohol he's ever had. he feels like an animal in heat when he smells your sugary perfume mixed with the styrofoam-y air conditioned smell of the library. you're gonna kill him, yknow? how is he supposed to respond to this? what is one to do when their stupid college crush sits next to them? he gives you a half smile before furiously typing away on reddit, the only place with answers for losers like him.

nerdy!choso whose hands. oh his hands. (can be i a big whore for a second?) his long hands that feel like they're the size of your face. his kempt, beautiful and trimmed nails. his lengthy fingers that seem to yearn for something more to foddle with than just the keyboard or controller. he typed as such an insane pace it made your pussy ache. he was going so fast, jesus. those hands were meant to do more than just ask "how to talk to girls" on reddit.

nerdy!choso who (on the advice of reddit) asks if you would want him to order something for you. you tell you had a frappuccino not too long ago and that it was quite sweet and filling. and he hates himself for thinking that he could give you something much sweeter and filling than that like a horny fourteen year old.

nerdy!choso who is now determined to not come off as a creep so he does his work with the focus of four adderalls. he is typing as fast as his heartbeat, not realising he got two classes worth of work done in just an hour. he looks over at you, blissfully unaware of the absolute war in his mind.

nerdy!choso who feels as though if he doesn't muster up the courage to ask you out right then and there, he'll probably be the biggest loser on the planet. (as if he wasn't already)

nerdy! pathetic! choso who stutters a million times and barely gets the job done then too. his eyes are scanning your entire being (trying his best to not gawk at your tits) for any sign of discomfort.

"so- uhh so ummm... wo-would you, like, uh... like to do this again? sometime?... i got a.. a lot of work done today, so.."

oh heavens, the sheer nervousness in his tone makes you want to pull his pants down and show him how to really get work done.

you agree with a smile, even suggesting a better, more ambient (more romantic) cafe to study in. choso's heart is about to burst and flood the fucking library with his blood the way it is beating at an alarming rate.

"umm yeah uh 5 sounds... awesome... i hope it isn't a-a bother to you?" "no way, choso. i loved today," you offer him a smile as you gather your things, "i really like your hair, by the way" "i like your hair too, y-y-you smell very nice", he gulps.

fuck. why did he say that? what? you smell nice? who says that? is he like ten? you can't help but giggle at the sheer embarassment on his face.

he feels as though he's gonna melt into a puddle and turn to stone and throw up all at the same time.

nerdy!choso who is the most stupidly hot guy you've ever met, you think as you go giggling back to your dorm. mental note: pick a skimpy outfit for 5pm ;)

[scented-morker]

Wearing Enhypen’s clothes

Enha x implied fem reader, established relationship, 945 words (AGAIN), fluffff, jungwons is longer than everyone else’s😬

Heeseung

He is the perpetrator.

Like as soon as you walk in the door he shoves his hoodie onto you

It’s not cute either— your arms get stuck and your hair is messed up and staticky everywhere

But as soon as it’s on he pulls the hood down and looks at you with such a lovesick look even though you look like a gremlin

Every time you stay over he makes you wear his clothes because he just thinks you look so cute

And since his shirts/hoodies are too big on you it makes it easier to sneak his hands up them to hold your bare waist which is his favorite way to cuddle 😔

Jay

At first you were just so impressed with his style that you wanted to be like him 🥺

He though it was so cute when you walked out in one of the outfits he had posted a picture in one day and been like “how do you manage to make this look good 😭”

“Well for starters, the clothes actually fit me” he laughs and ruffles your hair

He likes to get matching outfits so you don’t always have to steal much of his stuff since you probably have a match

But you always end up stealing his accessories

The amount of times he’s complimented your necklace only to realize it was his 😐

You’re lucky he loves you

Likes when you slide his rings onto your fingers while you’re playing with his hands 🥰

Jake

THE KING OF SHARING CLOTHES

He will give you anything that you want from his closet, no questions asked

He loves trying to sneakily add articles of his clothing to your outfits

Like “hey what if you added- I don’t know- a flannel around your waist? Actually look, I’ve already go one right here. Let me put it on you.”

He loves coming home and seeing you in his hoodies or flannels (especially when they’re so long it looks like you aren’t wearing pants 😭)

Refers to his new purchases as “our new jacket” or will text you and ask “do you like this?”

And when you tell him it’s a mens shirt so you wouldn’t wear it he goes “actually, it’s a jake shirt, which means it’s a yn shirt.”

Sunghoon

He’s one to act like he doesn’t like it

But one time when you told him you were cold and he said “sounds like a you problem” you threatened to go get one of the other boys’ hoodie and he got so pouty and mad 😭

Now he always brings an extra one of HIS hoodies whenever you hang out because he doesn’t want you to get it from someone else

Also the type to show up at your house, see your collection of his clothes and tease you about it but then not take them back

And if you EVER tell him you need another one bc the ones you have don’t smell like him anymore—

He’s gonna need three to four business days to recover from that

Sunoo

Another one to refer to his closet as “our closet”

He always asks you to wear his stuff

Like you text him to ask what you should wear for your date and he tells you to just wear anything over and he’d give you something of his to wear

Sharing sweaters 🥺

Like little grandpa sweaters that you thrift somewhere and you guys share them like it’s the sisterhood of the traveling pants or something and send each other little pictures of where you were wearing it

“Today I wore our sweater to the ice cream shop! The guy in front of me in line ordered mint choco and it made me think of you” 🫶

Jungwon

Listen, he’s seen the romcoms— you’ve made him watch enough of them during movie nights to know that people like wearing their boyfriends clothes

He just had no idea how to offer it

Does he just walk up to you one day and say “here, wear this”? Does he take you to the cold section of the grocery store until you shiver and then give it to you?

HE DOESNT KNOW!!!

But one day you two come home from one of your dates and decide to just chill in his bed

Which is cool, except you had dressed a little nicer for the date and your outfit wasn’t exactly made for comfort

“Hey won, do you think I could borrow something to change into? My outfit isn’t very comfy.”

He scolds you at first for not wearing something you’re comfortable in because he’s gonna think you look beautiful no matter what you wear, but eventually gives you a tshirt and pair of shorts to change into

Laughs because you look like Adam Sandler

“I thought this was going to be cute but you look really funny”

Riki

Listen, he loves napping

And napping on you is one of his favorite places

So when your stupid pretty shirt was scratching against his face, Riki was very upset

He lets out a big dramatic groan, grabbing one of his hoodies from the floor next to his bed and shoving it onto you so that he can sleep in peace

You’re still wearing it when he wakes up, and earlier he was too tired to be embarassed but now he realizes what he did and gets a little red

“Thanks for the hoodie ki,” you tease him, but still refuse to give it back when he asks

“Well if you hate it that much you can take it off.”

“Never!! This is mine now!”

Cue him chasing you around to try and get it back

[sleepyjuice]

toxic!rafe will blow your phone up the second you post something on instagram that he’s ‘iffy’ about.

you posted a photo dump which consisted of some random photos of the beach, some of your friends, one of you and rafe of course, but the one that had rafe seeing red was the last slide, which was you in a bikini. he texted you several times at first, and while you were literally typing your response, he called you. your fingers were typing so fast to respond to him that you accidentally declined the call, and he did not like that. you immediately went to call him back, but another text from rafe rolled in, saying ‘fuck you don’t talk to me we’re done’ you sighed loudly, knowing damn well he was talking out of his ass right now, so you sat back and waited for the inevitable next string of texts to roll in. which they did, only seconds later.

rafe <3: do you get off on making me mad or something

rafe <3: like i’m racking my brain trying to understand why you do the things you do and that’s all i can come up with

rafe <3: and i see at least 4 guys have already liked your post like that’s crazy to me?? thought i told you to block all the guys that followed you?? of course you didn’t

rafe <3: also who even took that pic of you??? bc i know damn well it wasn’t me so who the fuck you posing for with your fucking ass and tits out? WHAT THE FUCK

rafe <3: DO NOT PUT YOUR SHIT ON DO NOT DISTURB answer me rn.

rafe <3: nah it’s cool actually i’m gonna go hit up my other gfs so you have a good night.

you rolled your eyes at that last text, deciding to fully turn your phone off. you knew he would likely try to text or call you again very soon but you didn’t want to deal with it right now. this wasn’t your first rodeo, you knew nothing you could say to him right now would calm him down, so letting him freak out on his own was the best method to his madness.

three hours had passed since you turned your phone off. you had caught up on some reading and turned on your current favorite show, but found yourself interrupted by a knock at your front door. you expected it to be rafe, but instead it was a large bouquet of your favorite flowers and a gift bag. you glanced around to see if rafe was lurking around, but saw nothing. when he freaked out over text and was able to reread his actions, he usually waited a bit longer to show his face as opposed to a verbal argument.

you brought the flowers inside and set them on the counter before grabbing the card attached to the side of the bouquet.

sorry we argued. you are so beautiful and i love you so much. got you a little gift and sent you some money for food and i set your appointment with your nail girl for tomorrow at 10. love you forever baby -rafe

you couldn’t help but smile just a little. the flowers were beautiful and the note was pretty sweet, so you chose to ignore the part where he said ‘we argued.’ you didn’t get a word in, but you let it slide. especially after you opened the gift bag to see the new dior bag you had been wanting.

you hurried to turn on your phone, immediately seeing a $500 apple payment from rafe as well as a new text from a few minutes ago.

rafe <3: hope you like the flowers and bag baby. love you! :)

you: i love them. thanks rafe, love you too

rafe <3: good to hear. lmk what you end up getting for dinner and i’ll pick you up tomorrow to take you to your nail apt. can’t wait to see you baby

you would order yourself dinner that was obviously way less than $500, but you would send rafe a picture and thank him again. you’d facetime him before bed and conversation flowed like nothing had even happened just hours before. he’d ask you what color nails you were getting, tell you funny stories about the old men at the country club and excitedly plan what you two were going to do the next day. the cycle seemed like it would never end, but you often forgot about the bad when he was talking so sweetly to you and all you could think about was how excited you were to see him tomorrow.

[inkskinned]

it is the first snow today. i think we should all have off work, even though it didn't stick. i think there should be 4 national holidays, one for each season. happy first snow, go home and make cookies. for spring it can be the first crocus. for summer the first lightning bug. for autumn, the first golden leaf. go home, kiss your dog, feed your cat (who is absolutely already-fed but somehow still starving.)

i think we should all take more showers together, but i mean that in the soft way. i mean it like taking a nap. two years ago i had 5 adult friends in my queen bed, all of us laying across each other, head over belly over thigh over hand. any time one of us would giggle, it would ripple over each of us, like pulling on a spiderweb. kim actually needed to nap and didn't get to sleep and i am still sorry for it even though this is one of my most precious memories.

i think we should all wash each other's hair, i mean. i walk my dog and i watch someone put up twinkle lights around their front porch. alex and i just moved, and i love the neighborhood. already so many of our new neighbors have stopped by to say hello. the nice lady downstairs also collects plants, like me. she gave us her number on a pink post-it note. i am trying to decide whether to make her cookies or brownies.

i am going through a very hard time. something bad happened this weekend that i do not wish to discuss. it is hanging over me. i think of the green ribbon, and the woman who had her throat cut. it feels like that sometimes, inside of my body. like i am walking and talking despite being half-corpsed. like i am hanging on by a ribbon, standing on some kind of cusp. i keep saying - at least it wasn't worse. we are so lucky it wasn't worse. the idea is river-rock smooth now, all the edges worried off.

in this very dark night - the sun sets by 3 now - people don't need to, but they try anyway. they paint the missing light into things. i have an embarrassing number of missed calls and texts, but i feel the love from them nevertheless - hey. if you need something, i'm here. i will bring you food/puzzles/anything. i got you.

i think we should all have a big group chat where we do errands with strangers. this week i got lost in a home depot, which is wild because i'm a lesbian and we are actually hatched in a lowe's lumber section. there were two other women in the whole store. we ended up shopping together, at first by accident (we all needed things in the same aisle), and then because, well, why not. one of the ladies was taller than me, so she pulled down the screws i needed. i am agile and have the personality of a raccoon, so they sent me after anything below 3 feet. we talked about holiday plans and never learned each other's names, but did learn all the drama about each other's families.

i am making you cupcakes, because i have so much affection i want to pour it into batter. you ask me if i am eating enough per meal. i wrap your gift twice, trying to do it prettily. i get excited to give it to you, just because i hope you'll be excited too.

my parents drive an hour just to see the new apartment and to do the parent thing; standing in the kitchen saying things like "oh you'll get so much use from this dishwasher" and "well, you could paint that" and "when your mother and i moved it was uphill both ways and in a snowstorm and of course your brother was an infant." my mother brought me a plant for housewarming. i always say i love you before she leaves.

i play dnd on tuesdays still, after all these years. we all keep that night free. at one point, between grad school and marriage and all of it, we had to have a serious discussion about how to keep it running. we will keep going, we decided eventually. just to see each other, even if we don't play - you are all important to me. sebastian is not prone to affection but last night he stole my usual sign off - i love you all, be good, he said. he was laughing.

i don't love the winter, actually. i like snow in theory, but i grew up in the north, and am too-familiar with the season of "mud and sludge". i don't like being cold. but i do love something kind of soft and rare: every year around this time, people remember oh yes. you and i are human together. and i have love to spare.

it is the first snow, and something in my heart is finally warm again. i have spent what felt like the last 18 months just going-through-the-motions. it has felt blank and immediate, like i would never actually feel again. that sounds extremely trite and stupid - but that is the boring and familiar experience of depression. life just washes up against your windows, and you watch it happening. you see things that should be lovely and affecting, and it just whispers too-thin. i was desperately uncreative. uninterested in my hobbies. unimpressed by my writing. i told my therapist, often, i don't know how to find hope again.

almost sheepishly, something strange and lovely is burning in my chest. i keep not-looking at it, worried it will scamper back into the shadows again. it is skittish and wild, but it is so warm i want to sink my hands into its fur and feel it breathing. i love-hate it: if it's real, it can hurt me when it leaves again. but i am icarus-born, sun-lover and poet: i can't help myself. despite my best intentions, i am falling in love with life again.

i am planning to make cookies for my friends. alex and i are going to go christmas tree shopping. we picked out matching dish towels last night, and they have little mushrooms on them.

i love you. it does come back. yes, even after a long time. even for you. i promise. keep trying. you will wake up and it will be a day you can smile about.

write me when you get there. we will take the day off of work, and i will wash your hair, and we will both be laughing.

[reidrum]

all yours if you want me | s.r

pairing: spencer reid x bau!fem!reader

a/n: i think i really like this but if i proofread it one more time im gonna hate it so im just putting it out now lol. this is the full version of the sneak peak i posted last week woohoo ! also this is my first time writing smut so im sorry if it sucks but i hope y'all like it <3

summary: bau's got their first day off in weeks, and you're heading straight to the club to have some fun, you just didn't expect your coworker/crush to also be there while you're trying to forget him.

cw: 18+ minors pls dni, smut, p in v (dont be silly wrap ur willy), munch!spence, lowkey softdom!spence, suggestive dancing in public spaces, minor insecure reader, reader is afab and wears a dress and heels

wc: 4.6k

pls let me know if i forgot anything and let me know your thoughts pleaseee xx

it was the first friday night off you and any of the team members of the bau had in a long time, and you all were determined to spend it well. jj and hotch immediately went home to their families, penelope and emily decided they were going home to get some well needed rest, rossi went to a cigar club, not really sure what derek and spencer ended up doing, but you knew what you were doing tonight.

you’d had a long standing invitation from one of your college friends for a club night, and at first you’d decline because you’d get swept away on a case, and because you were hopelessly pining after your hot nerdy coworker dr. spencer reid.

spencer was smart in many ways, three PhDs, countless published papers, not to mention that eidetic memory of his. there was one thing that spencer was just fucking dumb at, and it was your shameless flirting at him.

like it annoyed you how clueless he was. you’d bring him coffee in the mornings with hearts drawn on it, fall asleep on his shoulder on the jet rides back, even complimenting his outfit or looks which made him flustered, but still nothing. your harbored crush seemed to stay just that, a crush. and while you’d hope he would get the hint he just hasn’t.

so you pull out your phone to text your friend. 

“barry’s at 9?”

“oh my god FINALLY. i’m there i'll pick you up at 8:30.”

you grin to yourself, this was good. you needed to get out and unwind for once.

you drive home quickly to hop in the shower before your friend comes to get you. throwing on a silk slip dress as your outfit of choice, you slipped your heels on and met your friend in the car.

walking into the club, you’re met with the thumping bass of the music playing and the staunch smell of alcohol, sweat, and sex.

it made you think about the last time you got laid, which was a really long time ago. and honestly you wanted to sleep with spencer so bad you hadn’t been making advances elsewhere. but that was going to change tonight, you were determined to have good slutty fun, and hopefully get laid.

your friend grabbed your hand and beelined to the bar, ordering two tequila shots each. once you downed them you moved to the dance floor and started preying for a target. as you’re scanning the room, you notice a familiar looking mop of brown hair standing next to bald headed man. a combo you knew all too well.

-

derek morgan was a player. and before he’s a player, he’s a damn good friend. which was his reasoning for dragging spencer out of his apartment to come out to the club and have fun.

“but i can have fun at home by myself morgan.”

“kid, you need to let loose once in a while. you are young, i’m just helping you take advantage of it.”

-

so now spencer’s at the club (a sentence he still struggles to believe) wearing trousers and navy button down shirt to which morgan had popped the top buttons open because ‘it gives the ladies a sneak peek’. he just rolled his eyes and went with it. he’s nursing a shirley temple at the bar, perusing the environment when he comes across a pair of eyes he knows like the back of his hand.

when you recognize the amber eyes you couldn’t believe your luck. of course, on the one night you’d decided to explore other options he shows up in the least expected place for him to be. so much for getting over him, you think. shyly raising your hand to wave, spencer returns the gesture. morgan takes note, “who are you waving t- oh, pretty girl is here huh pretty boy?” he nudges him.

a blush raises on his face. spencer thought you were attractive, like really attractive. you were a great addition to the bau and he admired your work ethic a lot, the day you walked into the bullpen wearing a fitted pantsuit had his own pants growing real tight. he still remembers when you introduced yourself and he couldn’t even get up without exposing himself. you thankfully didn’t think it was weird, and spencer was relieved when it was finally time to go home. he’d be lying if he said he didn’t have nights where he wished you were the one finishing him off and not his rough hands. he didn’t think you’d like someone like him, and took all of your ‘advances’ as morgan calls them, as acts of kindness.

morgan laughs as he watches spencer’s iq deteriorate to below 50 staring at you, “do you what you gotta do man. but you better be going home with someone tonight okay?”

spencer nods and nurses his drink a bit and looks back to morgan to realize he’s already off dancing with some girls in the corner. damn.

after your distanced encounter with spencer, you decide it’s time to move on and have some fun on your own. you couldn’t be hung up on him anymore, at least not tonight. tonight was for bad decisions.

good thing bad decision walked up to you asking to dance, whatshisname leads you to the dance floor and puts his hands on your hips, swaying to the beats of t-pain and pitbull.

you didn’t know, but spencer was watching every move you made. he watched you get led to the dance floor, the way he placed his hands right on your ass and squeezed, and how he turned you around so you were dancing on his front with your back. he gripped his glass so tight the bartender had to tell him he’d have to pay if it breaks.

he gets it, you’re attractive. this is the kind of thing that happens to people who look like you. who wouldn’t want you? but then he watched it happen a second time. and a third. and a fourth and fifth, till he just stopped counting at nine for his sanity.

spencer was not used to the green monster taking over him, but oh god was he fucking seething with jealousy.

you realized spencer was watching you by whatshisname number five. he hadn’t moved from his spot and he was constantly staring in your direction. deciding to do a little experiment, you played up your dancing a lot more, acting more flirtatious, dragging the guy’s hands further down, and letting out open mouthed moans that you knew spencer couldn’t hear but could definitely see. you watched as his jaw shifted and his knuckles turned white as you danced with each guy, realizing the growing effect that you now had on him.

by whatshisname number nine, you casted your hook. making sure to face spencer and meet his eyes, you watched as they darkened when he realized you were looking right at him. spencer might’ve brushed it off as a coincidence, but then you winked at him. and he realized what you were doing—you were taunting him, and fuck was it working for him. the bulge in his pants grew uncomfortable that he had to stand up to not draw so much attention to it under the bar lights. 

you watched him stand up and adjust himself and you threw your line. when he looked back up at you, you made a come here motion with your index finger and a bite of your lip. spencer’s eyes darkened impossibly more, he paid for his tab and strode over to you.

sinker.

he pulled you from the man behind you, who muttered a ‘what the fuck’ and moved away. spencer pulled you flush to his chest and with a low voice in the crest of your ear he whispered, “what do you think you’re doing?”

“i don’t think i know what you’re talking about dr. reid, could you explain it to me?”

spencer tightens his hold on you and ghosts over your ear once more, “this is a dangerous game you’re playing, sweetheart.”

“a game you joined the second you walked over here.”

he looked at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes, and matched the small smirk on your lips. game on.

the song changed to something with a more sultry beat, and you used the opportunity to wrap your arms around his neck and let his hands guide your hips to the music. while he wasn’t much of a dancer, he could definitely keep a beat. it didn’t prove to be so difficult when your chest was pushing up on his own that he was just waiting for them to spill out. he realized he could feel your hardened nipples through your slip, the nubs rubbing friction through the fabric of their clothes. he moaned internally while he gripped your hips to pull you even closer. it was clear spencer seemed to be getting comfortable with moving your body and holding you close, but you couldn’t let that happen.

before the second chorus you turn around in his arms so your back is pressed up against his front, and you start dancing on him.

spencer’s taken by surprise, something you felt when his hands faltered the confident rhythm it kept up, and while he watched you dance just like this with all those guys it’s like his mind is blank now.

you recognize the song playing, collide by justine skye & tyga, and use the sultry beat to your advantage. you move your ass hard on his front, feeling his length pressed between your cheeks. you gesture for him to lean his head down and he lets out a low groan as you whisper in his ear, “all that for me?”.

a primal instinct starts to take over spencer’s being, and he grips your hips to meet his rutting from behind. spencer was desperate for any friction that could soothe the growing ache in his pants. you grinned as you felt take what he needed from you. it was quickly wiped off your face when you felt his hands inching dangerously close to where you really wanted him.  you place your hands on his with surprise and look at him, “what are you doing?”

“i don’t think i know what you’re talking about, sweetheart,” he threw back at you, “but if there’s something you’d like me to do, i’m all ears.” spencer grazes his fingers under the hem of your dress, toying with the lace band of your panties and slipping his fingers below it to stroke your inner thighs.

fuck. he turned it on you so fast it almost gave you whiplash. the provocative dancing was something you could handle, hell everyone on that dance floor was doing the same thing as you both. what you weren’t sure you could handle was him about to touch you in a public space. but, your body betrayed you as it turned you on to another plane. you look up at him with lust filled eyes and let out a breathy moan of his name. spencer collapses internally and stands his ground, “if you want something, beg me.”

spencer thinks he’s won the upper hand, and he’s feeling so smug behind you. he still thinks he has the upper hand until you reach down and place his middle and index finger in your mouth, circling your tongue around the digits.

“touch me.” you moan out, releasing his fingers.

spencer is dumbfounded how he’s the one about to burst out his pants when he made you beg for him. it should make him feel embarrassed at how close he was, but he couldn’t find it in him to care. not when you in his arms pleading him to do something. you sounded so pretty, and who was he to deny a pretty thing like you?

his fingers continue their journey down, outlining the lace trim resting on your thighs. he hooks his fingers on the fabric to pull it aside and slips into you, going at an aching pace to gather the wetness and groaning out, “jesus, you’re so wet, was this all for me? you needed my attention that bad, baby?”

you whimper and grip his hand even tighter because you’re not sure if your legs are holding out any longer. it’s all so overwhelming—having his hands down your panties in the middle of the dance floor, the lewdity of the noises in your ear, the hard length pressing desperately on your ass. this is all you’ve ever wanted from him, to want you. and now it’s happening, and your brain can’t fire the neurons fast enough to process the moment. instead your body responded with your skin heating up with anticipation, heart beating out as much adrenaline to keep up. the daze is getting foggier by the second as he trails his fingers up and down your slit, spreading the wetness and circling your clit on the way up. and you think you’re about to get accustomed to the pace he’s set, when he delves between your folds and you moan out loud so abruptly that the nearby patrons looked around wondering where it came from.

you can feel spencer’s shit eating grin behind you as he moves his head down to leave love bites on your neck. if he can feel your bluff dissipating, he’s not saying anything. his fingers set a painfully slow rhythm, and you grind down trying to get any more friction to reach your peak. he’s hitting you in all the right spots that make you see the stars and beyond, leaning your head back on his chest as you barrel towards your climax. you feel yourself mere seconds away from reaching, and spencer suddenly pulls his fingers out, making you whine out in protest, “wh- what are you doing?”

spencer grabs your wrist and starts dragging you through the sweaty bodies surrounding you, tightening his grip with a small smirk as he passes a few of the guys you were dancing with earlier. suckers.

he pushes the doors open with a force and while the cool air is attempting to return your body to homeostasis, the anticipation of where he’s going overtakes you, “spence, where are we going wh-“ you cut off your sentence with a gasp as he handles you flush to the door of his car. then it’s just silence for a few moments. no loud bass or weird dudes, just the two of you. the only sound that can be heard are your breaths competing for prominence. you look up at him and focus on the details of his face illuminated by the moonlight, trying to read his expression. his honeyed eyes have fully darkened to a lustful hickory, and suddenly you felt like a gazelle being preyed on by a lion.

he reaches into his pocket and unlocks the car with a soft beep. it’s the focused eyes on you that drive you to open the door, but it’s the subtle silent nod of his head towards the car that makes you move inside waiting for him to join you. he climbs in after you, shutting the door and locking it.

spencer moves to the middle seat and allows his legs to spread open, he taps his thighs and faintly says, “come here.”

you shuffle closer and swing your legs over him, your dress rising up a little as you fully sit on his clothed crotch. and now you realize the corporeality of the moment. it’s like, really real now. all this time pining after the boy genius with no luck and now he’s got you in the backseat of his car and your panties crooked, waiting for you to move. the bravado you wore and so tightly held onto for a majority of the night comes crashing down like a shattered vase, and you’re not sure if you have any more in you to salvage the pieces. you may be a profiler, but try as you might you are not a mind reader, yet you so desperately want to know what he’s thinking. is it too much to ask what this means? will it overwhelm him to say you’ve dreamt about this moment for many nights, and how those dreams went on till the early morning when he’d stay and brush your hair back with a temple kiss. the whispers of sweet nothings sticking to you like honey as you got ready for the day. are these questions you even want to know the answer to?

you may not be a mind reader, but he is dr. spencer reid, who noticed your demeanor change after too long of a silence.

“hey,” he holds your chin delicately to your eyes, “it’s okay if you want to stop, i’m sorry for tak-“

it’s your turn to cut him off, “no! no i, i still want this, i just,” you falter.

“just what, baby?” he coos softly.

it makes tears well up in your eyes, you hope he can’t see them, “i’ve just wanted this for so long, and it’s probably embarrassing that i’m admitting this now of all times, but i don’t know if i can handle this meaning more to me than it does to you.” you confess quietly.

spencer listens to your admission and gingerly resecures his arm behind you, a position he thinks is starting to become second nature. he rubs soft shapes into the small of your back, “what makes you think that?”

“because i basically threw myself at you tonight, and it seems to be the first time you noticed me.” you say halfheartedly. 

“you think i don’t notice you?” he whispers, leaning in to leave soft kisses in the crook of your neck. spencer is dumbfounded, confused at how you reached such a conclusion. but as a man of science, he feels there’s only one way to prove himself. he breathes your name out, “can i show you how much i notice you? please?”

you nod, at least you could commit this moment to memory if it was all you’d have left of him. he presses his lips to yours for the first time that night, your breath faltering as he becomes more feverous with his attacks. slotting his tongue with yours, your hands move up to his silky hair to take purchase in. he lets out a groan as he pulls back from you, “i need to taste you.”

he guides your body to lean back on the center console, the only way his tall figure would be able to accommodate this position. your legs are still split on either side of his legs, using your hands to prop yourself up to watch his movements. he hooks his fingers on the sides of your panties and slowly slides them down, moaning at the way your slick causes resistance as he pulls them off your legs. wrapping his arms under your thighs to lift you up to face level, he places small kisses on your inner thighs as he makes his way to your core. he places a final kiss on your center before licking a long stripe up to your clit. moaning out wantonly, he continues his ministrations and kitten licks all over you, circling back up to your clit after each round.

“spence..” you whine out. he moves his focus to your clit, circling and sucking till you’re squirming in his arms so much has to grip your thighs. your hands are fussing through his hair, gripping and pulling to find something to ground you. spencer then slips his fingers into your core for the second time tonight, and you lose it.

he’s pumping his fingers in and out, that all you can hear is the squelching noises of your cunt. adding another one, you’re unable to stay still anymore, as if you were before.

“oh my fuck, spencer. i’m gonna cu-, cum. please don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop.” you moan out filthy.

spencer unlatches his mouth for a moment, “come for me, baby.”

your orgasm crashes down on you like a wave breaking on the shore. it’s all consuming, leaving you shaking and breathless and he lifts his head from between your legs and you see his chin glistening with you in the moonlight. the sight itself is so pornographic, you can’t help but shuffle back onto his lap to crash your lips back to his, tasting yourself on his tongue. he tangles his hands in your hair as you move yours between you both, unzipping his trousers to palm him through his boxers.

he breakily moans in your ear as you slowly pull back the band to take him out. the sight takes you by surprise, you knew he was big, you felt it on your ass while you were dancing. but seeing how it compared to your hand had you bulging your eyes.

“you’re so big,” you whisper. how the hell was that fitting inside of you?

spencer the mind reader places his hand on top of yours as you lazily stroke him, “we’ll go slow, don’t worry.” he can’t help but feel his ego inflate to the skies, he can’t remember the last time he had someone look intimidated by him.

nodding faintly, you gather the spit in your mouth and let it fall between you both to land on the flushed pink tip. you spread it up and down his length, setting a slow pace that had him moaning expletives in your ear.

“oh-, ohhh, fuck baby. you’re so good at that holy shit,” he says trying to hold himself together. you give him a few more pumps before lifting your hips up to guide him inside you. you move his tip to your entrance, rubbing it teasingly before spencer places his hands on your sides to stabilize you, and slowly sink you down onto him.

the second his tip pushes past your folds, you both moan out in harmony. placing your hands on his shoulders you leverage yourself to sink down further inch by inch, until your core is flush with the base of his thighs.

spencer is a man of many words, maybe too many. but right now the only word he can remember is your name as he watched you take his length whole inch by inch slowly losing any restraint he had left. the pressure his cock had inside of you was heavenly. you’d never felt so full, and you could tell he was trying so hard to stay still as you adjusted above him.

when you bottom out spencer throws his head back against the seat, “oh that’s it, good girl,” you clenched around him. “you okay?”

you nod in response, ignoring the way the term of endearment sent flutters to your heart, and attempt an experimental rock of your hips, causing spencer’s head to whip up and meet your lust blown eyes with his own. he adjusts his hands on the sides of your thighs and starts helping you move up and down on his length, setting a brutally slow pace.

you rest your head and moan into the crook of his neck as he continues his movements, “spencer, please, more, i can take it.”

he still can’t believe what’s happening right now, all those days he spent thinking about you in the bullpen, at home, everywhere really, and here you were begging on top of him to fuck you good.

“you still think i don’t notice you?” he says into your ear, “i have dreamt about what you’d look like bouncing on my cock, and you are blowing any idea i had out of the water.”

you whimper as he continues, “and when i’m not thinking about ruining you, i am in awe at how you walk through life. you bring so much joy everywhere you go, it’s a blessing to be able to experience you.” he says through shaky breaths.

the praise goes straight to core, with some traveling to your heart again, and you’re not sure how much longer you can hold on before you unravel physically and emotionally.

his hands are guiding you up and down at a harder pace now, “so,” thrust. “you still think,” thrust, “i don’t notice you?” he thrusts into you once more and holds you down, making sure you’re looking directly at him, “it was never an option to brush past you, you are everything to me. i didn’t know how to show that without overwhelming you. i’m sorry.”

tears well up in your eyes again, spencer notices this time and presses a small kiss on your forehead. all your senses feel like they’re in overdrive, unable to comprehend anything right now. your skin feels like it’s on fire as he rolls your hips faster to meet his ruts.

“spence, i- i’m so close.” you whine desperately. 

he slips his hand between you both to rub your clit, “i know baby, i’ve got you. let go for me.”

his words were enough to break the dam, your second climax of the night hurling towards you. the white hot feeling overtook your whole body, shaking and clenching above him. your grip on him was threateningly vicious, probably leaving deep crescent marks in the nape of his shoulders. you wish the euphoria would last forever if it meant having spencer like this. as you came down from your high, the two of you were still moving together, slowly rocking your hips to meet each other. once you were grounded again, you pushed through the sensitivity in your core to rise up on his length, just barely leaving the tip in before you slid back down fast and hard, now focusing on spencer reaching his peak.

“oh jesus, fuck.” spencer moaned out brokenly.

“come on spence you can do it,” you taunted as you clenched down, “come inside me, make a mess of me please.” a rush of confidence flowed through as you whispered into his ear, and spencer held your hips to help you bounce faster on him.

spencer let out a loud groan as you felt the hot spurts coat your insides, he was leaving matching crescent marks on the sides of your hips as the ones on his shoulders, making sure all of him was left in you. feeling him soften inside, you remained on his lap with him sheathed in you. you both are breathing heavily, leaning back to hopefully give you both some relief from the sex filled air. looking around the car you realize that all the windows are fogged up and let out a tiny giggle.

“what’s so funny?” he looks up at you slightly amused and very out of breath.

“no it’s just, the windows are such a dead giveaway for what we just did in here.” 

“eh, i don’t really care what people think.”

“gasp, dr. reid wants to let the world know he has car sex with random girls?”

he leans in to bite your neck playfully, “random? did nothing i said during all that register for you?”

you yelp and attempt to play dumb, “actually i don’t remember a word, you might have to jog my memory. maybe even recreate the circumstances to help with cementing it. i read about situational memorization where certain scenarios are easily remembered when there’s a big event to anchor it to.”

he swears he could’ve melted on the spot at you explaining a concept you’d read about to him, “careful sweetheart, calling it a big event might inflate my ego a little too high.”

“i mean, i can tell it worked,” you tease as you feel him harden inside of you again, “so tell me genius, how many times does a scenario have to happen for me to remember the information?”

“i guess we’ll have to find out, don’t we?”

[prettiedup]

prettiest thing pt2 ୨ৎ

you and onyankopon rarely argue. you’re his good girl, you never had a remark or debated with anything he said. he would never tell you anything to hurt you or put you in harm's way which is why you allowed him to be the provider and the thinker of the relationship while you just had to be pretty and spend his money. it’s a dynamic that the both of you liked and preferred. another reason why the dynamic works so well is because onyankopon is naturally dominant, he tends to take over situations without even trying. that goes for both his personal and business life.

you hated when those moments of tranquility between the two of you got interrupted from emotions and overthinking. both you and onyankopon are very secure people, there’s no qualms about attractiveness and if your personalities matched up. but, at the end of day you’re human. and with onyankopon being your first ever serious boyfriend, you sometimes doubted yourself and even worse; him and the relationship. you couldn’t help it! you really couldn’t, you tried to remind yourself that onyankopon has never given you a reason to doubt him but your overthinking didn’t care.

your bottom lip pokes out as your glossy eyes reread the map. onyankopon’s location is nowhere to be found and your man always shares his location with you. most of the time, the roles were reversed and he was very stern about you sharing your location with him 24/7. you couldn’t understand why he’d suddenly stop sharing it with you. your heart thumps heavily in your chest as you instantly start thinking about the worst.

“when’s the last time y’all talked?” zinnia asks. she sits beside you, a look of irritation etched onto her face.

you sniffle as you think back to the last time you talked to onyankopon. he had been driving you home after a long day of running errands. they were more so his errands than yours but you just wanted to be around him so you begged him to let you come with. the day has started off great. the two of you laughed, rapped and sung songs together, the vibes were just right. it was nearing night when onyankopon had gone inside the wingstop to order the two of you food as a completion of the day. while he was inside the restaurant, you were on his phone; scrolling on his facebook. you always claimed his facebook is way more interesting than yours which is why you lurked on people’s accounts through his. as you were reading facebook drama in a very messy comment section, onyankopon’s phone suddenly gets a notification from instagram.

‘you’re welcome handsome’. almost instantly, your hands begin to shake as you press the notification tab. you watch, breathless, as messages pop up from onyankopon and the mystery woman. onyankopon had posted a video of himself on his story. of course he looked good, your man always does. he’s an attractive guy so you had prepared yourself from the beginning to witness women texting and complimenting him. which is fine, but you would've never thought he’d disrespect you by responding back. with a shaky finger, you scrolled to the beginning of the message thread which wasn’t very far.

‘you so fine omggg’ which is something you’ve seen many girls telling him. your eyes focus on what the man had said back,

‘lol preciate it ma 💗’ you didn’t know if you wanted to scream or cry. ma? a heart? you couldn’t understand why he decided to respond to her in the first place. taking an uneven breath, you locked his phone and threw it down into the cupholder. tears form in your eyes as you stare out of the window, watching as cars of various sizes and colors zoom past the parked car. so many thoughts were racing through your head, you’ve never felt so much betrayal in your life. you sniffle as a few spare tears roll down your face.

when onyankopon returns with two wingstop bags and a holder that had two large cups sitting in it, he’s all smiles. his gold grills glint under the streetlight. he opens the door and sees right away that your attitude has completely changed. he can’t stop the confused expression from forming on his face. he sets the cups into the cupholders and the wingstop bag onto your lap. he doesn’t pull off right away. instead, he sits there for a few moments trying to wreck his brain on what could have possibly gone wrong in the span of about ten minutes.

“what’s wrong, mama?” he asks, cautiously.

you don’t respond, vocally. instead of using your words you just twist your body towards the door and tilt your head completely towards the window. you were so upset with him, just hearing his voice caused you to grow ten times more upset. your sniffles fill the quiet car while onyankopon waits for you to reply to him.

he raises an eyebrow as he comes to the realization that you’re not going to respond to him. “you don’t hear me talkin’ to you?” you were being disrespectful right now and this isn’t like you. he attempts to give you leeway because you have never behaved in such a way before. “talk to me, baby..” he pleads.

and god, when his voice deepens like that and he sounds so needy一you have to remind yourself to stay mad at him. you let out a loud sigh when you decide to look at him.

onyankopon’s heart almost skips a beat when the two of you finally make eye contact and he sees that your eyes are bloodshot red and there are stray tears still threatening to spill. he asks in a tone that shakes, “why you cryin’, mama?”

“c-cause you’re fucking disrespectful.” you cry out. the dam that was straining to hold up broke just by you looking at him.

onyankopon looks at you with wide eyes. he’s never once disrespected you. he’s never called you out of your name, mocked you, spoke condescendingly to you. you two have barely been together for an entire year and he had already gifted you everything and more. he tries to not be offended by your accusation.

“how am i disrespectful?” he asks, genuinely confused.

“how are you not? why the fuck ar-” you’re cut off from onyankopon kissing his teeth.

“stop cursin’, deadass. you can explain yourself without cursin’ like a damn sailor.” his tone doesn't make room for discussion.

you roll your eyes at his statement. onyankopon has always been firm when it comes to your habit of cursing, he always says ‘pretty girls don’t curse’ and tries to catch you every time you let a curse word slip out. right now, you didn’t have the time or patience for his lecturing.

but still, you rephrased yourself. “why are you replying to girls on instagram?” you ask in the most composed manner you can manage.

onyankopon gives you a confused mean mug, “what girls?”

you breath roughly through your nose. “you know what girls, onyankopon.”

onyankopon sighs, “i genuinely don’t, mama.”

you felt like crying from annoyance, why did he feel like now was the time to play? “look on instagram.”

ony grabs his phone and opens instagram. he sees that you had already opened his most recent chat. he reread the messages and viewed the account and quickly realized why you were upset. he stays quiet because he genuinely had no explanation on why he decided to respond to her. of course, he didn’t see her as attractive or anything. he had eyes for you and only you, no other woman could get in between that.

sighing, he set his phone down. he bit down on his lip as he tried to gather the words to tell you. he didn’t compliment her back or completely indulge in her, all he said was that he appreciated the compliment. he didn’t see what was wrong with that.

“look, i know-” he cut himself off as he continued to struggle.

“look at you, fucking struggling to talk cause you know you fucked up.” you spat the words out angrily. your pretty glossy lips are frowned up and onyankopon didn’t like that one bit.

“stop cursin.” he muttered.

“i’m fucking grown, nigga. just like you chose to respond to that bitch, i choose to curse whenever the fuck i want.” you were talking recklessly because you were mad. on an average day, those ugly words would never be spewing from your pretty mouth. also, you would never be talking to your man like this.

“bro chill with yo fuckin’ mouth!” onyankopon ‘s tone rises by a lot. there’s a pointed look in his eyes as he tries to put you in your place.

“me chill? you chill, nigga! fucking disrespectful ass! texting bitches back and calling them ma and shit.. fuck you, nigga!” your voice cracks at the end of your sentence. you weren’t crying out of sadness, you were crying out of anger. truthfully, you wanted to swing off on him but you’ve never thrown a punch in your life and onyankopon would probably choke you the fuck out.

“’m not puttin’ up wit’ dis shit.” onyankopon grumbles. he presses the start button and his car roars to life. “ain’t never called you out yo’ name. ain’t never did shit to hurt you, man. i try to give you the damn world.” your eyes widen when you hear onyankopon’s voice crack throughout his rant, you throw a quick glance at him and have to fight the surprised look on your face when you see his pretty brown eyes glossed over.

you can’t stop the words from coming out of your mouth. “texting other girls and calling them ma is giving me the world?” you chuckle sarcastically. “there’s no telling how many girls you entertain behind my back.”

onyankopon shakes his head while listening to you accuse him. “you can go through my entire fuckin’ phone right now and you ain’t gon’ find shit besides that. i ain’t talk to no other girls since i’ve been knowin’ you.”

“i can’t trust anything you say anymore.” you mutter.

“really? i’ve told you shit about me that i ain’t told no one else. shit about my childhood, about my life, how i became me ‘nd now you can’t trust me..” he lets out a breath that resembles a chuckle while shaking his head. “you’re my world, you’re my fresh breath of air from the streets, ‘nd now the reason why i’m going so hard. pickin’ up new clients, ‘nd putting my life at risk so i can buy you shit ‘nd now you’re sayin’ you can’t trust me anymore. alright, bro.”

you don’t say anything, you only turn your head and look out of the passenger seat window for the remainder of the drive.

onyankopon puts the car in park once he arrives in your driveway. you’re quick to hop out grabbing only your purse. you skim the driveway and realize that your parents aren’t home which you’re grateful for. you don’t have time to be bombarded with questions. while you’re unlocking the front door, you could hear onyankopon’s feet traveling behind you. you almost felt bad for leaving him to carry the bags and cups alone but in the moment of anger, you couldn’t care less if he needed help or not.

you open the door wide enough so that the two of you could step in. you kick your shoes off by the front door while he walks into the dining room and sets the food onto the table. the silence between the two of you is tense, you’ve never been so quiet around him and vice versa.

“‘mma go.” onyankopon suddenly says while looking down at his phone. he’s tapping furiously and his eyebrows are clenched in a way that shows annoyance.

“what? what about our food?” you ask with a frown. you go to stand in front of him. his towering height causes butterflies in your stomach whenever you stand near him.

“eat it or somethin’. i don’t care what you do with it.” he shrugs, finally looking away from his phone. you almost want to cry again. you’ve never heard onyankopon be so disinterested with you. he’s usually always so soft and understanding when he’s around you, so to hear him talk to you like you’re some stranger off the street; more than you'd want to admit, hurts your feelings.

“okay..” you sigh, obviously defeated.

usually, when he’s leaving out he’d litter your face and lips with kisses while telling you he’d be back. but this time he only gives you a brief side hug. “i’ll see you around, _.” your heart absolutely hurts when he uses your government name. when you hear the front door slam shut and the loud cranking from his car, you instantly burst into tears.

“three days ago.” you tell zinnia as your sudden flashback leaves your head. just thinking about what happens causes your eyes to go glossy. you’ve been crying ever since he left you standing in your dining room.

“after that incident?” zinnia asks, nosily.

“i messaged him an hour later.” you tell her. “i-i told him i loved him.. and he.. he just left me on read.” your shoulders shake as you clutch your face, you were so tired of crying but you didn’t know what else to do.

“awe, boo..” zinnia says sympathetically. she quickly clutches you into a hug. the smell of her perfume fills your nostrils as you cry onto her.

“i.. should’ve never said anything.. i should’ve j-just pretended i didn’t see it.” you say through sniffles. regret has been lingering on your heart a lot lately. you’ve been filled with should've, could’ve, and would’ves. your life has consisted of moping around the house and crying in bed.

onyankopon wasn’t exactly giving you the reassurance you desperately needed at the moment and it was causing you to absolutely spiral. you just wished he would at least text you a simple ‘i’m not mad at you’ or something of that sort. you’re aware of the type of lifestyle he lives on a day to day basis, you’re always making sure to pray for him asking for him to be protected as he gets his money in the only way he knows how. and for his location to suddenly go off has you on the absolute edge.

“nah, snookie.” the childhood nickname has you momentarily cringing. “you did the right thing by speakin’ up, boo. you seen bullshit so you spoke on it. what he did was that.. uhm.. what they call it…” she pauses and seems to be deep in thought. “ohh! that manipulation shit.”

you instantly sit up from her arms. “nah, zinnia ‘m not getting manipulated.” your soft voice has a defensive edge to it. “he just felt some type of way ‘cause he does so much for me and i called him out of his name and stuff.” you defend onyankopon way too quickly for someone that ghosted you.

zinnia gives you a look that you can’t exactly read. “whatever you say, boo.” she says. it’s obvious she doesn’t believe you from the way she shakes her while saying it.

“can you just..” you sigh out, the way you were feeling over onyankopon was a feeling you have never felt in your life before. it felt as if your heart was tearing into two pieces and no matter how much you tried to take your mind off of him and the situation, it still replays in your head. “can we cuddle?”

“awe, snooks, of course, boo.” she makes quick work of ashing her blunt and shuffling the two of you so that she could hold you comfortably.

the two of you lay there, silently. your head is adjusted onto her chest, the sound of her heart thumping fills your ears as you lose yourself to your thoughts. so many what ifs are running through your head. your overthinking is almost suffocating you in a way. as you lay there, thinking of the worst you try to rationalize and also think of the good. that was a habit you tended to do. you always tried to see the good in people and every situation. because of your optimism, you were often taken advantage of.

you didn’t purposely upset onyankopon. you felt hurt and as a result you felt the need to hurt. if you had known that bringing up the message, you would have never brought it up. you would rather suffer and not speak on it than to fully stop speaking to onyankopon. it was different, going from spending all your time with someone to not talking for three days straight. this being your first ever serious relationship, you didn’t know what to do. you weren’t sure if you were supposed to blow up his phone or give him time to cool off. all you want is to speak with him and hear his voice, to get reassurance that he’s well and alive, to hear him admit that he isn't angry with you.

you don’t realize it but you somehow doze off in zinnia’s embrace. your soft snores fill her ears and she coos out a soft “awee” while rubbing your back. with her being the older cousin and you not having any siblings, she felt as if it is her duty to help you get through your first heartbreak. she’s been through your shoes many times before; overthinking, crying, getting upset, getting manipulated, she’s gone through it all. as much as she wants to just shake your shoulders and scream for you to gain some sense, she won’t. she has to allow you to maneuver through life with firsthand experience, that includes getting your heartbroken.

she’s known onyankopon for many years, since middle school to be exact. she witnessed the man mature and adopt his doggish ways. to her, you’re too naive for ony. since you’re an only child your parents tended to shield you away from just about everything during your childhood and teen years. their overbearingness has rubbed off on you giving you this innocent curious nature. of course, you get upset and curse but every threat you give off is empty. she knows onyankopon, and she knows that he likes girls like you. girls who are easy to manipulate and have access to. she regrets deeply advising you to come to the party with her. if she would’ve let you stay home, you would’ve never met him.

you’re suddenly awakened by a phone buzzing. you yawn and stretch, your eyes dart to your window and you could see the light from the moon peeking through your opened blinds. you rub your eyes and stretch once more before looking at zinnia’s phone that’s ringing on your nightstand. you reach over her and grab it, once you see that it’s sasha you press the answer button.

“hello?” your voice is scratchy from the hours you went without water.

“snookie?” she asks. by her tone you could tell she’s upset and that causes you to fully wake up. an angry sasha is a scary sasha.

“hi, sash. it’s me.”

“hey, boo. where’s zinnia?” she seems impatient, her words are rushed out.

“beside me, sleeping.” your eyes do a once over on zinnia who’s drooling onto your pillow. her chest heaves while heavy breaths escape through her nose.

“yeah, no. wake her up for me.”

“sash, you kno-” you’re cut off by sasha’s loud sighing into the phone.

“snookie, boo, just listen to me. wake zinnia up and put her on the phone.” she says.

without another word, your hand lands onto her side and you begin shaking zinnia awake. after a minute of repeating her name and shaking her, she finally wakes up. a mean mug is immediately on her face as she rises up from her sleeping position. she stretches, letting out a loud dramatic moan.

“whatchu shaking me for?” her tone is hostile. zinnia absolutely hates being woken up which is why you were hesitant from the beginning.

“sasha wants you.” you hand her her phone, watching as she rolls her eyes before speaking up.

“girl, what you want?” her full lips are pulled into a frown as she listens to whatever sasha says. “wait, who’s story?” she asks while opening instagram. she types on her keyboard for a few seconds and then stops. she goes quiet as she watches whatever sasha told her to watch. you could hear multiple voices and the sound of loud music coming from her phone, you curiously lean over to see and that’s when zinnia quickly tilts her phone. she ignores the confused look you throw to her.

“bro.. ’m gonna fuckin’ kill dis nigga.” zinnia says after a few moments of silence. she puts the phone back up to her ear, her hazel eyes dart to you a few times and then they look away. “brooo, we’re about to throw something cute on. come scoop.” at those words, you’re entirely intrigued. you mouth at her ‘what’ and she only shakes her head and ignores you. “yeah, i thought i saw connie’s baldheaded ass in the background. ‘mma get his ass too.”

once zinnia says her goodbyes, she hangs up and lets out a heavy breath. “snookie, y’know i love you right?” she asks, suddenly.

“yeah. i love you too.” you giggle nervously.

“‘nd i just want you to know you don’t need a nigga for shit as long as i’m livin’ and breathin’.” she continues.

“i hear you.” you reply.

“what ‘m about to show you, you gotta practice me you’re not gonna cry.” she negotiates.

“you know ‘m a crybaby!” you groan with a smile. “i promise you i’ll try to not cry.”

she deems that good enough because she’s hesitantly showing you her phone.some might think you’re being dramatic if they were to hear you say you physically felt your heart break. and you could understand, heartbreak is a literary term and not literal one. however, you were experiencing a heartache at that exact moment. gasping was all you could do as your breathing became trapped in your chest. because you couldn't, you didn't cry. in total shock, you were motionless. you could feel zinnia’s arms wrap around you but it’s almost like a barrier was completely stopping her from touching you, or that’s what it felt like anyway.

your eyes rewatch the screen for what felt like the 100th time. your ony is right there, but so is a woman. she’s bent over in front of him, her ass is pressed against his pelvis. she’s shaking her ass to the beat of the song that’s playing and onyankopon’s hands are clutching her wide hips while she twerks. they both have a big smile on their faces while people in the background hype them. you watch in horror as onyankopon brings a hand up only to quickly bring it down onto her ass. as the video comes to an end, the camera darts to connie who’s obviously drunk, hyping them up the most. he’s pouring a half full bottle of hennessy into onyankopon’s mouth while screaming absolute nonsense out.

“we’re going to get dressed and we’re going to that party. we’re gonna whoop onyankopon, that bitch, and connie’s ass.” zinnia says. her tone is serious and the glare in her eyes tell you that she means every word she’s saying.

“there’s no point, zinnia.” you shrug as tears race down your face. “he’s single, he can do whatever he wants.”

zinnia gives you a look of confusion and irritation. “girl, to hell with that. y’all get into one big augment and now he’s moving like this. we’re not letting this shit slide, bro.” her tone excludes any kind of debate.

it doesn’t feel like you’re there physically when zinnia urges you into the bathroom to clean yourself up a little. you’re zoned out the entire time while brushing your teeth and applying light makeup. your eyes stay glossed over but tears don’t fall. your legs shake like jelly, you feel weak; emotionally and physically. you didn’t know where to go from here. all you wanted at the moment was for ony to come over and hold you while kissing your head and promising you everything would be alright like he usually does. the person that hurt you is the person you’re craving the most.

zinnia is sympathetic the entire time the two of you get dressed. you didn’t want to go confront ony, honestly. you just wanted to lay in bed and rot away. the thought of being in an outside setting at this current moment seemed draining. what would you even say to him? there isn’t even anything to say to him.

everything moves too fast and sasha pulls up in front of your house sooner than you wanted her to. an uneasy feeling settles in the pit of your stomach as you look over your outfit. a pink spaghetti strap sleeveless dress hugs your figure, loudly emphasizing every curve you have. you couldn’t even feel pretty if you wanted to, your mind goes back to the woman that was twerking on ony and your heart quivers. the way he grabbed her hips, the same way he did that one night where he had you chanting his name like a prayer. you let out a breath and quickly look away from the mirror.

zinnia leads you through the living room where your mother is sitting in the living room watching judge judy in a nightgown she's had since you were born. meanwhile, your father sits exactly beside her, playing pool on his phone. “ohh, where y’all going?” your mother asks.

you can’t find it in you to talk and zinnia seems to quickly catch on to that. “we’re gonna go pop at this party right quick.” she tells her.

your mother’s eyes dart from your head to your toes. her eyes go back to your face and she can instantly tell something isn’t right with her daughter. she decides she’ll wait until it’s just the two of you to comment on it. “y’all be safe ‘nd stay together. if one has to go to the bathroom, the other follows in tow.” your mother lectures.

you both agree to her words and walk out of the house. you could feel her eyes burning a hole into your back but you refuse to turn around. if you were to break down crying, she would immediately forbid you from going out tonight. that’s one of the difficult parts of being an only child. your parents sometimes get too overbearing without even meaning to. privacy is something you just started getting once you turned 18. you still remember the way your mother almost fainted when the two of you were having girl talk and you had admitted that you and ony had sex for the first time. you still haven’t forgiven her for running back to your father and telling her, he had given you the cold shoulder for two weeks. as much as your parents could be a handful, their intentions were never bad. you’re their only child so they tend to shield you a bit too much because of that.

when you enter the backseat of sash’s pink wrapped dodge charger, the smell of weed immediately hits your nose. your nose scrunches in reflex. you absolutely despise the smell of weed, it’s too strong for your liking.

“wassup, bitches!” sasha greets the two of you. sexyy red plays lowly, she had gotten those overdramatic speakers installed so the bass was almost overpowering.

“pass the blunt, hoe.” zinnia rolls her eyes.

“hi, sasha.” you greet with a slight smile that almost hurts to put on your face.

“you okay, bookie?” she tilts all the way in her seat so that she could make eye contact with you. her almost cracks seeing the redness in your eyes. “we gon’ get shit straight. trust. when i see connie and ony ‘m punching them dead in their shit.”

zinnia quickly agrees as she lights the blunt up. you let out a soft laugh, “y’all there’s no reason to get violent.”

she inhales for a few seconds before letting out a large cloud of smoke. “yeah, okay.” she says sarcastically.

sasha pulls off, the song f my baby dad and instantly sasha turns the music up. both her and zinnia begin screaming the lyrics.

“my nigga actin’ up so you know ‘m finna pop it!” zinnia screams to no one in particular.

“y’all,” sasha turns the music down once she gets to a red light, “me and connie had our first pregnancy scare some weeks ago.”

both you and zinnia shook your heads at her words. you truthfully were surprised that sasha wasn’t on her second child with connie, from the extreme stories she told the two of you about her love life, it’s only a wonder that she isn’t carrying.

“girl! why you shaking your head?! a lil’ birdie told me that ony had to buy your lil ass a plan b!” sasha looks at you through the rearview mirror.

your eyes immediately dart towards zinnia, she’s the only person you disclosed that information to. zinnia quickly turns the music up, pretending she didn’t hear sasha’s accusation.

when sasha parks near the house that’s throwing the party, you feel so afraid that you immediately want to throw up. you were doing good not crying but reality seems to settle in and you realize you’re actually about to confront ony. a lump forms in your throat that you struggle to swallow down. you’re looking out of the window, at the house. you’re so caught up in your head that you don’t realize both zinnia and sasha are looking at you in worry.

you’ve been anxious since a child. you’re the ‘come with me’ friend. it’s something you hated. there’s been numerous times you’ve wished and prayed that anxiety didn’t control your life. you struggled extremely with confrontation. maybe that’s why you and ony got along so well. you never questioned him or any of that sort. you prefer to sit back and watch rather than being in the spotlight, being perceived. that goes for family, friends, and strangers. you weren’t even tearing up from what ony did, while that did have a part in your tears, you were more so dreading the thought of speaking up to him.

“you okay, snookie?” zinnia asks, worriedly.

you inhale sharply, “y-yeah. can we just.. get this over with, please?”

they both share a glance before agreeing. the three of you exit the car, the sounds of purses, bracelets and y’all’s slide sandals sync as you walk towards the house.

“we’re so bad.” sasha sighs while looking over the three of you to make sure you all looked good.

once you enter the house, you’re immediately blinded by flashing lights. the air is hot and humid as numerous people rub against each other. loud speakers blast rap music and you could faintly hear people rapping along with the rapper. alcohol, weed, and sweat fills your nose making you internally gag. this is the second party you’ve ever came to and you want to leave right away. sasha grabs zinnia’s hand, and zinnia grabs your hand. sasha leads you three to the kitchen that’s only filled with a few people. out of the corner of your eye, you could see a couple sloppily making out against the refrigerator.

“here.” sasha hands you a small glass that is filled with something clear. “take a shot or two and loosen up.”

following her instructions, you take two shots straight. bile rises and you have to swallow it causing you to gag. you feel your body shiver as you attempt to digest the alcohol. you take a gulp from the red bull that zinnia gives you, trying to ease the burning sensation in your throat.

“they’re all in the livin’ room, i seen them all huddled up and shit.” sasha comments while holding a cup in her hand.

“les go.” zinnia doesn’t waste any time making her way over to them.

you follow the girls along with legs that feel like jelly. the closer you come to the group, the faster your heart beats inside your chest. when you're just a few steps away, the scent of weed hits you powerfully.

“ohhh!” connie screams once he sees the three of you walk up. “we got zinnia in da housseeeeeee! ohhh shitttt! y’all don’ got itty bitty’s ass to get out of daaa houseeee! whaaaatttt! oh, ‘nd sasha is here too.. i guesssss.” connie is obviously intoxicated as he slurs over his words.

immediately, the rest of the guys' heads snap in y'all's direction. you somehow hear armin let out a “oh lord” once he sees the expressions on sasha and zinnia’s faces.

“connie shut that shit up, boy! what that hell are you screaming for?!” sasha wastes no time grabbing connie by his shirt.

“unhand me you beast!” connie screams dramatically.

sasha rolls her eyes at connie’s antics. her eyes dart from face to face until they land on ony, who’s sitting there manspreading. there’s an uninterested look on his face as he views your trio before his eyes locate onto you and you only. eye contact that you haven’t held in three days. that lazy head tilt and seeing his full lips pressed straight, you have to force yourself to look elsewhere. you refuse to get sucked into his hypnotizing eyes once again.

“you. stand up, i wanna fight.” she tells ony.

ony looks at her boredly, his eyes are glossed and lidded. “sasha, gone somewhere, man.” “beat her ass, ony. ‘m too scared t’do it.” connie says from his grasp in sasha’s hand.

ony's eyes dart over to you. there's a look on his face that makes your knees almost buckle. your heart speeds up in your chest and you can tell from the shift in the atmosphere that something is about to pop off.

[peanutpinet]

Biased - Sylus x Innocent Fem Reader (Under My Care Pt. 2)

Request: Can we have a part 2 where Innocent MC accidentally interrupting a meeting because she was exited about something and really wanted to tell Sylus? ( It can be simply as she got him a special crow plush or she won something but Sylus and the twins forgot to tell her about the meeting?)

A/N: some have been requesting a pt. 2 of Under My Care and one of you made a specific request about it. Just a lil fluff I decided to post for those who are looking for more Sylus fluff. I hope that this fic brightens up your day 🥰

Disclaimer: I do not own the images nor the characters or you (the MC). All images were taken from Pinterest and credit goes to the image's respective owners.

Warnings: fluff, slightly aggressive Sylus (not towards you, his men lmao), possessive and protective Slyus (not in a bad way)

After months of dating Sylus, he finally brought you to his penthouse at the N109 zone. Ever since the night when some of Sylus’ business partners barged into your dinner date, Sylus has shared more secrets of himself with you. But to Sylus’ surprise, you weren’t scared of him. You weren’t scared at the fact that he was the leader of a notorious bad group of people, the number one most wanted person in the N109 zone, the man who everyone practically feared.

Because to you, he’s just Sylus. He’s your first boyfriend and the first ever person to accept you for who you are. To not push your boundaries and be willing to do whatever it is that you enjoy. Knowing that you didn’t care about his title, money, or status made Sylus love you even more.

He would occasionally take you to his penthouse to stay over the weekend before bringing you back to Linkon, where you worked at a local bakery. He would also send you gifts and souvenirs whenever he was travelling. No matter where he was, or what time it was, Sylus would always be there whenever you needed him.

You suddenly got your period and want to cuddle with him? During your phone call, Sylus had teleported himself outside of your room. You wanted to visit a certain country? Sylus would immediately prepare his private jet and take you there, buying you all the things that your eyes lingered on. You want to try new hobbies? Sylus would pay for your lessons. All he asked is for you to stay by him which you had always done since the beginning.

This week, you had the whole week off and decided to stay with Sylus for the whole week which Sylus would tease about is; saying it was practice for when you two get married and settle down together. Despite your good baking and cooking skills, Sylus would still do most of the cooking. As for housework, you tried to be sneaky and do it while Sylus was in a meeting or something but Sylus would always know. He had Mephisto keep an eye on you and when he saw the chance, Sylus would immediately teleport behind you, wrapping his large hands around your waist, having a playful debate before finally coming to a middle ground and doing the housework together.

Today, however, you were determined to impress Sylus. You told Sylus that you wanted to head into town for a moment just to go to the grocery shop. But when you didn’t see him anywhere, you thought that this was the perfect chance to actually surprise him. But first, you tried to find Mephisto because you knew that even if you couldn’t find Sylus, he would always remind you to either text him or at least bring Mephisto with you.

Once you found Mephisto, you invited the mechanical bird who has taken a liking in you and texted Sylus before heading to the nearby grocery shop. You walked to the grocery store with Mephisto sitting on your shoulder, accompanying you as you stroll through the aisle, putting fresh produce, several baking materials, and snacks in your shopping cart.

After paying for the groceries with Sylus’ card; because the man hid your wallet whenever you came to visit him and would always put one of his cards in your wallet. You and Mephisto walked back to the penthouse where you started to prepare a feast for Sylus and the twins, Luke and Kieran.

Aside from Mephisto, you also bonded with the twins, Luke and Kieran, very well. They would often accompany you if Sylus were to have a sudden meeting or if you were bored but the twins were free and it ended up with the three of you playing kitty cards.

But again, today, it was just you and Mephisto. Even though the mechanical bird couldn’t talk, you kept on talking with it and even asked him to help take some ingredients for you as you cooked while you wait for your baked goods in the oven.

You decided to make some of Sylus’ favourite food which were braised beef with a side dish of sauteed vegetables along with some baked good which were brownies and chocolate chip cookies.

Once both the food you cooked and baked goods were done, you decided to plate them neatly and decided to search for Sylus in the penthouse because you know that when Sylus was out, he would always text you but because he didn’t, you were certain he was still in the penthouse.

After sometime, you finally heard Sylus’ voice, excitement surged through you as you barged into the room without thinking, expressing your happiness for making Sylus’ favourite food and some sweet treats for him and the twins.

“Sy, Luke, Kieran, I made lunch and some sweet and…” you exclaimed but didn’t even get to finish as you saw the situation in the room

Sylus was sitting in his chair with Luke and Kieran standing to either side of him, the entire room was filled with men who all wore black just like Luke and Kieran were. They didn’t looked like bodyguards, some were older than others, and you could tell that they were in an important meeting which reminded you of the time where Sylus’ business partner first barged in during your dinner date.

As if Sylus was able to read your mind without his aether core, Sylus immediately called out to you before anyone else could speak of something. “Hi sweetie, c’mere. Show me what you made for me and the twins, hmm?”

Sylus could sense your uncertainty with being watched by everyone in the room whom you didn’t know and honestly it was getting on his nerves because he could see how some of the men were eyeing you like you were a sweet treat.

“If any of you eye her or think about her in any way that displeases me, I’ll have to have an additional talk with you all. Personally” Sylus threatened as he motioned you to come closer to him. “It’s okay sweetie, come here”

You then started to walk cautiously towards Sylus who welcomed you with open arms and helped you sit on his lap as you held the lunch you made for him and the twins. “It’s okay sweetie, you weren’t disturbing anything too serious, hmm” Sylus gently held your chin between his fingers, rubbing it lovingly

You tried your best to seem like you’re okay and nodded towards Sylus who still wasn’t convinced but he didn’t want to push you too far. “Okay, sweetie. Let me wrap up this meeting real quick for you, yeah?”

Sylus kissed the top of your head before letting you lean on his broad chest as he quickly wrapped up the meeting which has gone for over half of the day. By the end of the meeting, Sylus managed to scare everyone in the room except the twins and you who immediately scurried out of the meeting room, not even daring to see Sylus’ eyes or look at you at all.

By the time everyone left, it was just you, Sylus, and the twins in the room. “So, what did you make for us, sweetie?”

Before you could show Sylus, the twins spoke up, apologising for not remembering to tell me that Sylus had a meeting. “We’re sorry boss and miss. We forgot to tell you about the meeting”

You looked at the twins and back at Sylus, worried that the twins were going to get scolded for forgetting but to your surprise, Sylus seemed unfazed and he dismissed the twins’ apology. “It happens. We were all busy. You both were with me during the meeting. I’m not mad that you both forgot or that (y/n) here suddenly came in. I’m more pissed that those fuckers had the audacity to look at her the way they did just now”

“Y-you’re not angry I, I suddenly came into your meeting?” you asked quietly and Sylus looked at you with a smirk, his eyes seemed to be hypnotised by the sight of you looking ever so small in his lap

“How could I ever be angry at you, sweetie? In fact, I much rather you interrupt any boring meeting I have and even accompany me if you’d like. I always love you being close to me and even sit on my lap like this” Sylus smirked, kissing the side of your temple

“You’re so biased, sy. What would your business partners or other men think?” you giggled as Sylus smiled and littered your face with kisses

“Let them see that I’m biased because nothing else matters” Sylus smiled, hugging you closer

“Alright miss, why don’t you just hand us our portion of food you prepared so we can leave the two of you alone” Luke stated making everyone in the room laugh

A/N: if you have any specific requests for Sylus do send me a request or message so I can refer back easily. Thank you for reading and have a great day :) xoxo peanutpinet

[der-schweizer]

This is a little idea about the post of @proneterror204 make sure to hit them up for the og post.

Danny was somewhere between bored, tired (which he almost always was) and generally not okay. How his parents had managed to draw the attention of Wayne Enterprise and get invited to a Gala that Bruce Wayne himself was hosting, was beyond him.

Granted he hadn't even known about it until about three days ago. Honestly he should be used to getting utterly blindsided by his parents ‘Come on, Danny. We are going to drive for the next three days. It's going to be fun’-type of surprises.

They had just left him enough time to lock down the portal, something his dad should have done, grab his suit that Vlad had gifted him. (As much as he dislikes the Froot Loop, Danny wasn’t stupid enough to throw out a multi-thousand Dollar suit.) And then they were off.

He managed to sneak in a few texts to Sam and Tucker on the ride. So now he was here, halfway bored out of his head. He had already been talked to multiple times, and each time got mistaken for one of the Wayne kids.

Danny could see it honestly. Blue eyes, Black hair, decent build body and an air of exhaustion that hung around most of them like a cloak. It was probably the reason why they kept coming to him. Thankfully he managed to shake them off rather quickly.

He had finally found a quiet corner where he could lurk and eat some of the finger food that was laid out on the buffet. Going for thirds was tempting as everything was very tasty but sadly not very filling.

“Man, I could go for a burger.”

A snort came from next to him, which nearly startled him. The girl that had been in the corner before was putting a hand over her mouth in clear embarrassment.

“Uhm. Hi?” Danny gave an awkward wave, not knowing how he should talk to her. In turn she said a quiet “Hello” whilst also signing it. Danny of course immediately picked up on it.

“Sorry to ask but are you…” he gestured towards his ears, signing himself in case she was deaf. The girl looked at him with surprise before smiling softly. “No, I don't like talking.”

“Ah, perfectly understandable. I do know ASL, one of my friends is almost deaf but she got those fancy implants that let her hear everything.”

In lieu of the answer all he got was an “Mhh.” He went quiet after, having no fucking idea what to talk about. Danny quietly wondered what the fuck he could even talk about, the weather? Either rain or fog. The city? Rockbottom in every poll except for crime. Thinking about it gave him an idea.

“Say, who is your favorite Vigilante?”

The question got her attention, making her think for a moment before quietly saying. “Like Wing. Yours?” Danny mused for a second, humming loudly.

“Hmm, I think it's Orphan. I mean, have you seen her move? Just pure grace and elegance. I bet she is an immortal Vampire that simply got bored and decided to fight crime.”

He didn’t see how she blushed, “No.”

Danny just scoffed, “Are you kidding me? She moves with far too much elegance and grace to be mortal. Credit to the other bats but they move like mortals. She dances around both rogues and vigilantes!”

She turned away for a moment, trying to hide that she was blushing but it didn't really work. “Orphan. Is. good. What about others?”

“Oh, hmm.” Danny looked up whilst tapping a finger against his chin. “Well there’s Red Hood and Stabby Robin. Both are top tier, which should be a no brainer.”

She tilted her head in thought. “Why?”

“Well. Stabby robin practices the art of the sword, a forgotten art in modern times. And Red Hood shoots pedophiles! Who doesn't like that?” Danny set his empty plate aside, looking around for a waiter with drinks.

Her answer drew his full attention back to her. “Batman.”

Danny scoffed at the name. “Yeah, of course he doesn't like that. I mean have you looked at the costume of the very first Robin? Doesn't take much imagination why he dislikes Hood offing pedos.”

A crackle in her ear drew Cass’s attention away from him. “Red Robin here, Lantern and Superman are moving in to arrest his parents. Can you keep him distracted for a while longer?”

“Mmm. You still want burger?”

“Huh? Uh, yeah? Do you know a good place?” The question itself caught him absolutely off guard.

“Yes, take me out?” She tilted her head, giving him a cute look. Danny just shrugged, “Sure, my parents are going to take hours to explain everything anyway and they keep getting sidetracked whilst doing so. I fully expect to still be here tomorrow. Might as well spend the time with a cute girl.”

She blushed visibly, then stuck out her hand. “Cass, we date now.” He grabbed her hand, flushing a bit as well. “I’m Danny.”

“No, not Danny. You boyfriend.” She hooked her arm with his and pulled him along. Danny quickly went along with it, not saying no to it.

In Cass’s ear Red Robin spoke again. “Uh Cass? That wasn't the plan. You don't have to date him. Cass? Please don't make me explain this to B.” A click was heard as another com went to the same line. Batman growled out a simple. “Follow. Them.” before it went off.

Cassandra just put a bit more pep into her step as she pulled her new boyfriend towards her personal favorite Bat burger.

Nightwing clicked his comm on, “Found them. They are in the parking lot at main and fifth street.”

He spent a moment taking a picture of them. It showed them sitting on a concert divider, with Danny pointing up with his left whilst holding a half eaten burger in his right. Cass was sitting next to him,a bunch of fries sticking out of her mouth whilst she was grabbing a bunch more. She is also starring right at the camera. Her look perfectly said ‘if you ruin this date, i will end you’.

Batman's voice echoed in his ear, “Keep your eyes on Danny. He might have the same ideology as his parents. Oa and the lanterns are already moving in on the Ghostly Investigation Ward. We might have to take him into custody if things turn bad.”

Dick was just about to answer when Cass abruptly stood up, dranging Danny up and then away.

“Hold on, they just started moving again.” Nightwing got up from his perch and followed them quickly.

Tim worked on cutting through the strange rope, “Okay. Just to make sure I got everything right. Danny and Cass went to Batburger and had some takeout, then went for a walk in the park whilst you followed them, right?”

Dick who was trying not to wiggle, nodded. "Yeah."

“Then some weird ass shadow creature jumped you, tied you up and hung you from this tree, right?”

“You are forgetting the part where I described it as a lady from the eighteen sixties, and the part where she said to leave ‘the king of kings’ in peace. Other than that you got it spot on.”

“You know, I would make fun of you for that but considering that there is no knot in this rope and its tough as hell I will believe you.”

“Great. Do we know where they went after I lost them?”

Tim looked him right in the eyes. “Steph found them, and considering how red she was when she came back, it's best to wait until morning.”

Dick opened his mouth to ask why before it clicked in his head. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.”

Danny woke up groggy, his eyes were crusted over and his limbs felt heavy. For a moment he just laid there, then did a full body stretch, stretching from toes to fingertips.

After it he laid there for a moment listening to noises in the room. He could hear cars and their horns. Some shouting down the hall and the shower in the bathroom.

That prompted the memories of last night which caused the ‘i got laid’ grin. He let out a satisfied noise, before crossing his arms behind his head.

After a moment Danny wondered if Cass would be up to ‘share’ the shower only for him to freeze at the sight of the Batman in the room.

“Uuuhhh.”

“Daniel James Fenton.” Batman growled out. “You are hereby placed under investigation by the Justice League for potential violation of interdimensional rights. Your parents have already been arrested and are awaiting their trial. Do you have anything to say to that?”

[morverenmaybewrites]

Lessons on Love | Jason Todd x Reader

What lesson about love are they still trying to learn?

Asked by @/citrussaurus

Literally everything. 

I think that Jason’s experiences have shaped him into someone who has quite an unhealthy view on love and relationships: the lack of a positive example of a healthy relationship during his childhood years, the confusing (but not entirely loveless) relationship he had with Bruce Wayne, and eventually his years of rage and isolation as the Arkham Knight. 

By the time post-Arkham Knight rolls around, Jason has a deeply unhealthy view on love and relationships.

And yet, despite this, I feel like he craves this. More than that he’s starved for it. 

I think a part of him hopelessly, desperately wants to be held dear. He wants a place to belong, someone to belong to. 

And it’s his great tragedy that he doesn’t know how to ask for it and more importantly, he doesn’t know how to receive it. Sometimes, Jason loves so quietly that it’s hard to see it as love –because God knows that no one in his life ever taught him to properly communicate. 

I picture the way Jason seeks affection like a starved street dog: there’s a hunger to it, a thirst.

(After all, if you have spent your whole life being starved of something, isn’t it only natural to seek it out, even if it’s just the bare scraps? And here you are, willing to give him your whole heart.)

But there’s also a sort of tension, then animal instinct to flee after being kicked more than several times for it.

I picture him as always perched at the edge of things: waiting, waiting for the inevitable moment where the rug is pulled out from under him, when the affection you had always so freely given will suddenly be withheld, and he will be left starving again, a hole at the center of him that he has no idea how to fill.

(But oh you are worth the fall.)

But I always think of him as physically perched on things, especially on the early days of your relationship: the edge of towering skyscrapers, hovering in your doorway just barely stepping into your threshold until you finally have to ask him to come in, your windowsill, just barely keeping himself out of the rain. He’ll try to act relaxed, but really, he’s tense as a bird about to take flight. Always, always prepared for the moment where he’ll be asked to leave.

(And yet, and yet, all he wants is that you ask him to stay.) 

He doesn’t know how to show you affection, doesn’t know how to ask for it. All he’s ever known is how to make himself useful. 

(After all, useful things don’t get thrown away. Useful things don’t get asked to leave.) 

He’ll keep you safe, which in Gotham City is no small feat, keep the villains away from your door: from the small-time crooks who target regular civilians for just that extra bit of cash to the supervillains whose plans would likely involve you (and the rest of Gotham City) as collateral.

And at first, it’s eerie: the sudden silence in your life, the feeling of peace, of being looked out for. You have never gone so long without encountering some sort of mugger or been involved in a bank robbery.

Then perhaps one day, you’ll get a text from an unknown number, asking you to stay away from Gotham Square that day. When you try to call to get more information, it comes up as Unavailable. And perhaps a week after that, you’ll get a similar text from a different, this time telling you to avoid Bleake Island.

Perhaps you solve it quickly or perhaps, not at all and it takes you a while to put together the pieces: Jason has been keeping you safe. 

And when you decide to talk to him about it, he’s cagey, almost embarrassed. He won’t deny it, but at the same time, when you try to thank him or show you appreciate him, he’ll react with confusion. 

After all, keeping his loved ones safe is second nature to him. In fact, I feel like it’s the one act of love that all of the Bats are comfortable with. 

He’ll do other things for you too. He’ll get up and make dinner after a long day, despite having just come back from a grueling mission, he does the dishes without being asked, hell, he’ll sometimes even throw in a load of laundry for you–taking a an unexpected pleasure from seeing the way your clothes are mixed in with his, the simple solid domesticity of it, at how your lives have become so intermingled that he now has to separate your socks from his. 

In short, he’ll do acts that, while on the outside seem nice, would sometimes border on servile. 

When you try to show him how much you appreciate what he does, he’ll be even more embarrassed: there’s an odd tension around his shoulders, the slightest dusting of pink on his cheeks. 

(And oh, Jason hates the way he blushes, knows the way it discolors around the brand on his cheek, the way it doesn’t redden along with the rest of his skin, but instead stands out, ghostly pale.) 

So he’ll shrug it off, barely being able to look at you. Acutely aware of how strange and monstrous he looks.

And even more so, he’s painfully aware of the reason he’s doing these things. Not only because he wants to take care of you (and he does), but because it’s the only way he knows how to be useful, how to be needed. 

How to be asked to stay.   

[eicsferrari]

annoyance - cs55 smau pt2

summary: you don't like carlos but now he's a williams driver and you have to see a lot more of him

a/n: in case you don't know the finalissima is a football match between the winners of the copa america and uefa european championship. the finalissima 2025 will be between argentina and spain. but now apparently it might be played in 2026 ?? which i didn't know when i started this so let's just pretend for the plot thank u

pt 1 / pt 2 / pt 3

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

2025

Instagram

williamsracing & carlossainz55: 2025, the fight starts now👊🏼

view all comments

carlossainz55: Let's go team!! 💪🌶️

user5: vamos carlitosss

user3: ready to wear blue💙

user9: we will miss franco ♡liked by yourusername

user4: yn took the picture but didn't like the post we stan a petty queen🔥

✧

♡liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, alex_albon & others

williamsracing: 2025 team

📷: yourusername

view all comments

user1: user4 she liked this one

user4: only bc of alex

✧

♡liked by francocolapinto, landonorris, carlossainz55 & others

yourusername: new year, i have a good feeling about this one

view all comments

user7: she's my favorite non-wag🤍

yourfriend1: 3rd picture, is there wine on the bag?

yourusername: you know me too well🍷

landonorris: i'm still waiting for those photography tips you promised me🤨

yourusername: once the season starts and only if you buy me food

user2: are they flirting???

yourusername: i finally convince you guys i'm not dating franco and you are already trying to get me involved with someone else pls free me😭😭

user8: carlos in the likes👀👀

✧

williamsracing: help us decide

view all comments

alex_albon: carlex for the win

yourusername: i like bonsai

carlossainz55: i prefer carbon

yourusername: ok? make your own comment

yourusername: also why would you prefer carbon?

carlossainz55: idk i just do and we can call our fans carbonara

williamsracing: we agree carlossainz55 carbon it is💙

yourusername: williamsracing betrayal 💔

✧

✧

Text

y/n: in a scale from 1 to 10, how bad would it be if i quit??

y/n: i can live off franco

your friend: why would you quit don't be ridiculous

your friend: also franco might have less money than you do, it's not a great plan

y/n: i'm convinced carlos thinks i only got this job because of franco and not because of my talent

your friend: did he say that?

y/n: well no

your friend: then?

your friend: cause i honestly still don't understand why you dislike him so much

y/n: okay so when i was at franco's first race i got lost and asked him for directions

y/n: but when i said i was going to williams he asked if i was with franco

y/n: implying i was with franco you know, which already annoyed me

y/n: and then he walked me for a bit, asked me what i do and when i said photographer he said "that's great!"

y/n: but in a sarcastic way?? like it is just a dumb little hobby and he was mocking me

your friend: how do you know?

y/n: body language idkkkk

y/: and then someone called him and he just left me there !!! still lost might i add

your friend: so let me see if i understand correctly

your friend: you met this man at his work place. he helped you while he could, tried to make small talk, then got called for work and now you hate him bc of "body language idkkk"?

y/n: when you put it like that i sound insane

your friend: it is insane babe🤍

y/n: i can't explain it he just sounded condescending

your friend: were you maybe (and just maybe) projecting some of your own fears onto the conversation?

your friends: and all of the things you assume he thinks are the things you are afraid people might think or haters are saying online?

y/n: ...maybe

your friend: do you have any real reason to believe he thinks all those disgusting things??

y/n: ...

y/n: not really

your friend: and don't you think that maybe, since you are working together, the best thing might be to give him another chance? unless proven otherwise?

y/n: ugh i it when you get rational and make sense

your friend: someone has to‼️

✧

Text

lando: hi yn! just confirming our plans for tonight

lando: also carlos will join us, do u mind?

y/n: hi lando!! tonight it is

y/n: and no, i don't mind

lando: great cause i wasn't sure

lando: see you in a bit

✧

Instagram

landonorris posted a story

caption: i bought her food AND drinks

tagged: yourusername & carlossainz55

replies

↪ user5: omg carlos and yn, war is over????

↪user7: carlandooo

↪francocolapinto: she didn't murder him????

landonorris: worst, i'm almost sure i was third wheeling

francocolapinto: the plot thickens👀

✧

landonorris: photography lessons

view all comments

user3: photographer lando>>

user6: yn is so prettyyy ♡liked by carlossainz55

user8: carlos i see you 👀👀👀

user7: call me crazy but yn and carlos would make a great couple

user9: that's insane get help 🤍

yourusername: these look good, clearly you had the best teacher💪

landonorris: debatable

carlossainz55: ignoralo, sigue enojado que hablaramos español para que no nos entendiera [ignore him, he's still angry we talked in spanish so he wouldn't understand]

landonorris: jokes on you i can translate here👊🏼

✧

Text

franco: so, how did it go?

y/n: surprisingly really good

y/n: and it was fun to speak spanish in front of lando he was PISSED

franco: and with carlos? he's still alive which i'm surprised

y/n: i have to admit i might have been a little quick to judge him...

franco: i told you, he's a cool guy

y/n: yes i guess

franco: you guess?

franco: cause a little bird told me you two hit it off

y/n: forget carlos, i'm going to kill lando

✧

yourusername has started following carlossainz55

✧

♡liked by carlossainz55, francocolapinto, landonorris & others

yourusername: call me maybe

- yourfriend1

francocolapinto: para quién estás beboteando? [who are you trying to look good for?]

yourusername: you are too annoying for someone currently unemployed

francocolapinto: ouch😔

user3: franco what do you know??

landonorris: you look so pretty tonight yn

yourusername: flattery will get you nowhere mister

landonorris: please don't kill me i'm sorry😭

user4: what is going on let us innnnn

user5: she started following carlos and then posted this welcome back demi lovato following henry cavill

user7: she's crying for attention 🙄🙄 desperate behavior →carlossainz55 has blocked this user

user7: carlos blocked me????

user5: deserved

yourfriend1: i love you, you are so hot

yourusername: let's run away together

yourfriend1: deal 🤝🏼

✧

Text

carlos: hola, is this y/n?

carlos: i'm carlos

carlos: you gave me your number the other day

y/n: hola!

y/n: yes it's me

y/n: i'm glad you texted me

y/n: i didn't want to do this with lando there but i wanted to apologize for my behavior towards you

y/n: i might have misjudge some things on our first interaction

y/n: but still that doesn't justify my behavior so i'm sorry

carlos: i had a feeling you weren't a big fan of me but i wasn't sure what i had done lol

carlos: but don't worry about it, all is forgiven

carlos: i just wanted to say i had a great time hanging out

y/n: me too!!

carlos: now i'm curious, what annoyed you that day?

y/n: it's going to sound dumb...

y/n: but when you asked me about franco and me i thought you were undermining my job

carlos: i would never

carlos: i think you are incredibly talented and hard working, you earned this place

carlos: and since we are confessing things

carlos: i was asking about you and franco with the intention of finding out if you were single

y/n: oh

carlos: so, are you watching la finalissima tonight?

y/n: yess franco is coming over to watch it together, you?

carlos: i'm going to watch it with some friends

carlos: i have an idea, wanna make a bet?

y/n: mmm it depends

carlos: if spain wins you have to go on a date with me

y/n: you sound really confident

y/n: and if argentina wins?

carlos: i have to dress like a chili?

y/n: oh you are on

✧

yourusername: listos para lo que venga🇦🇷🤍 [ready for whatever happens]

view all comments

user10: confíen, tengo a los jugadores españoles en el freezer🕯️🕯️

user5: will this break my yn x carlos family?

francocolapinto: don't tell me, we finally got them to be civil😭

anyataylorjoy: vamos argentina🇦🇷🇦🇷 ♡liked by author

✧

carlossainz55 posted a new story

caption: i really need spain to win😉

replies

↪yourusername: mm i wonder why

carlossainz55: 🙈🙈

✧

Text

y/n: hey

carlos: hey everything alright? game is still in halftime

y/n: i know

y/n: but about that date

y/n: tomorrow?

carlos: si❤️

carlos: no puedo esperar [i can't wait]

[w2soneshots]

Two becomes three -George clarkey

words: 2.4k+

warnings: unplanned pregnancy, sickness, worrying, birth.

summary: you and your husband George’s journey to unexpectedly becoming parents along with your social media posts during your pregnancy.

notes: hello my loves! Here’s the request. I love writing fluffy fics like this🥹. I hope you all enjoy this extra long one shot!!🧸🎀🤍 (please lmk what you think!)

Liked by wroetoshaw, mollymae and 934,125 others

y/username: baby has entered the chat @georgeclarkeey

-comments-

chrismd10: congratulations guys❤️

faithloisak: how cute!! So happy for you two🥹✨

max_balegdae: ahhhhhhhhh

y/nfanpage21: there's no fucking way!!🙊

user27549810: the random George jump-scare at the end lol

user60286430: didn't they just get married like five seconds ago?😅

I met my now husband George four years ago. He followed me on instagram, I followed him back and not long after that we were dating. Last year he proposed and just under a month ago we had our wedding, which was beautiful and only had our closet friends and family.

An hour ago I took a pregnancy test. I was only a day late on my period but I took it just in case. I could hardly believe it when I saw two lines and it was so faint that I convinced myself I was seeing things so I decided to sleep on it and then tell George when I knew for sure.

But I just couldn't keep it a secret. I blurted out, "George, I think pregnant." As soon as he walked through the front door after his shoot with Arthur tv. He was baffled. "You- woah- you think?" I nodded. He took a moment to process what I just said. "And you took a test?" He finally asked. "Yeah, the lines were really faint though. I was gonna wait until tomorrow to tell you but- it just came out."

He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around my shoulders. I let out a soft sigh of relief. "If you are then I'll be so happy," he whispered into my hair. I smiled, though he couldn't see me. "I'm so overwhelmed," I mumbled. His hand made its way up to my hair and he gently ran it over my scalp, silently reassuring me.

That night everything felt so strange. You're supposed to take the tests in the morning anyway for the most accurate results so we were just waiting and trying not to get our hopes up in case it wasn't positive.

The next morning I woke to an empty bed. I reached for my phone and then read the text George had sent me just ten minutes ago; "gone to buy more tests, hopefully I'll be back before you're awake x" I sighed softly then got up.

As I was brushing my teeth the front door clicked open and soon George was walking into the ensuite. He smiled softly as he wrapped his arms around my waist from behind, looking at me through the mirror. "Ready, love?"

"You look. I can't." I quickly passed the upside down test to George as we sat on the end of our bed. Just seconds before, the alarm on my phone rung but I couldn't bring myself to look at the test.

He took it and flipped it over. A wide smile spread across his face as an excited chuckle escaped his mouth. "Seriously?" I asked, shocked. "Y- yeah, you're pregnant!" He shot up of the bed. I giggled. "I'm gonna be a dad!" He pulled me up and into a bone crushing hug.

The next two months weren't very fun. At the beginning we were both so ecstatic. Then the morning sickness hit. I could barely eat, sleep and it was becoming impossible to make up excuses for why I couldn't go out.

George was like my rock through the entire ordeal. He was by my side every time I had to run to the bathroom, he held me and gently stroked my back as I tried to get some sleep, he pleaded with the doctor when we went for my first appointment hoping there was something, anything they could do and he let me ramble on about how I just wanted to feel normal again.

Slowly our friends figured it out and offered their help. The girls put together a basket and Faith made sure to include everything that helped her through her first trimester, Chris came round to keep me company while George had to go and film something for a brand deal and George's sister sat with me as we online shopped since I couldn't really go out.

When the sickness slowly started to ease off everyone was so relieved, George especially because he hated seeing me constantly upset. I was finally able to enjoy pregnancy, announce it on instagram and suddenly the last few months were erased from my mind.

Liked by faithloisak, arthurtv and 513,290 others

y/username: love, hate relationship with the heat

-comments-

taliamar: you're glowing babe!!💞

-> y/username: 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

georgeclarkeey: 🐊

y/nfanpage21: the puppy🥹

user85299106: this is adorable

At twenty two weeks we went on our little baby moon. I spent twelve days relaxing in the sun while George fussed about suncream and making sure I was in the shade. Since becoming pregnant he's been much more protective, which I don't mind since it's never overbearing. He's just trying to help in anyway possible.

"Good morning sleepy head." George greeted me quietly, sitting on the side of the bed next to my sleepy form and gently pushing the messy hair from my face. "Mornin'" I mumbled, shuffling slightly. He leaned down to press a soft kiss to my forehead before asking if I wanted some breakfast, to which I immediately nodded.

We left our little apartment after getting ready and walked hand in hand down the street towards the cute little outdoor café we'd spent quite a few mornings in the past week and a half.

"Thank you." I smiled at the young girl handing me my pancakes. "Will that be all?" She asked politely after placing George's breakfast in front of him. I nodded and she walked away.

"Mmm, I'm so glad I can actually enjoy food again," I said after swallowing a mouthful of food. George just stared at me. "What?" "I just love watching you." I chuckled. "That sounds a bit creepy babe."

When the day came that our baby moon was over I was sad to be leaving such a beautiful place that I'd made life long memories in but I was secretly very excited to be going home and getting back into normal life.

Liked by chrismd10, taliamar and 623,309 others

y/username: clearing out my camera roll✨

-comments-

arthurtv: fifth slide?😭

-> georgeclarkeey:🫃🏼🤰

faithloisak: stunning!!!

y/nfanpage21: you, the bump, the flowers, all so cute💝

user10479624: you're both going to be the best parents

The next few months were spent relaxing and preparing for the arrival of our baby, who we found out the sex of just after our baby moon. We had a little gender reveal at our apartment with our families and a few special friends. We decided on a cake, classic, cute and delicious.

"I can't tell!" George announced. I stood next to him, my hand holding the knife that was cutting through the cake. Both of us were trying to peek at the sponge but it wasn't until I pulled the slice out that we spotted the pink.

Immediately the room erupted into cheers. I placed it down on a plate along with the knife and I turned to my husband. Tears welled in my eyes and when he wrapped his arms around me and pulled my body off of the ground the commotion around us seemed to disappear and all I could focus on was us.

"We're having a girl," I whispered, as though I was trying to convince myself that this was actually real. He gently placed me down, his hands landing on my hips. "I knew it. Dad intuition goes crazy." I giggled before pushing onto my tip toes and placing a loving kiss to his lips.

After that day I was suddenly obsessed with buying baby clothes, what the nursery was going to look like and the realisation hit me that I was actually going to have to push a human being out of my body, though George was quick to reassure me about that.

"Baby's the size of a small pineapple this week," I informed George as we sat on the couch, my feet resting on his lap as he slowly massaged them through my socks. I turned my phone around so he could see the app that keeps track of the baby.

"That's huge." He muttered, eyes widening slightly. I chuckled. "When she's done cooking she'll be the size of a pumpkin." "Oh god, I'm sorry." My brows furrowed, an amused look on my face. "What are you apologising for?"

"You're gonna have to lug around a pumpkin sized baby," he replied, deadly serious. I just laughed, though I wasn't particularly looking forward to that.

The months flew by and suddenly I was actually carrying a pumpkin sized baby in my stomach. At thirty seven weeks my back constantly ached, I needed to pee every five minutes, I wasn't sleeping properly since I had a future gymnast kicking around in my stomach and all in all I was just uncomfortable.

Since I could now go into labour at any second George was watching me like a hawk. Every grimace when I felt an extra strong kick, every sigh and every time my hand touched my stomach he would sit upright and just wait for me to say something.

"I'm fine, George," I'd say. "Just checking," he'd reply and that interaction would repeat itself another one hundred times before the day ended.

"I won't go if you don't want me to, Chris can find someone else last minute," George whispered as we lay in bed, my back pressed against his chest as he gently drew circles on the side of my bump. "No, I'll be okay. It's only a few hours," I mumbled back, half asleep. "Okay, just promise you'll call me if anything happens?" "Promise."

He left early the next morning to film the football video for Chris' channel, meaning I woke up alone. I went about my routine like normal though it felt like it was taking me longer to do my usual things, like I was moving at snail pace, which was slightly strange but I brushed it off.

An hour later I lay on the couch scrolling through instagram when I felt a twinge in my lower stomach. My brows furrowed slightly. "That was weird," I thought but I continued to scroll.

Until I felt it again. This time I decided to keep my promise to George and phone him. It ring a few times before he picked up. "Everything okay? Is it the baby?" He said immediately in a rushed tone. "I'm not sure, I just feel... weird."

He took in a shaky breath. "I knew I shouldn't have come today! I'm coming home." "It's fine, I'm- we're fine. Calm down-" "no no, I'll be there in twenty minutes, love you." And with that he ended the call. I sighed, feeling slightly bad that he'd had to leave the shoot but also a little relieved.

Just under twenty minutes later he burst through our apartment door. I stood in the kitchen, hands on the countertop as I took a deep breath, eyes squeezed shut. I heard his bags drop then the sound of his feet racing towards me.

"You said you just felt weird!" He placed his hand on the small of my back. I looked up at him as the pain subsided. "I did! It started getting worse after I called you."

George collected himself. "Okay okay, you're having contractions?" "Mhm, think so," I responded quietly. "How far apart?" "Like five minutes." He thought back to the birthing class we'd gone to last month. "I think we've got some time and the woman said the first kid always takes a while so let's not stress," he tried to reassure me and himself.

"I'll go get the bag, you just- uh... breathe." I chuckled softly, already calmer now that he was here. He emerged from our bedroom minutes later with the small suitcase in hand.

It took half a hour to get out of the door, drive to the hospital and get checked into a room. After that we could both relax.

The contractions weren't unbearable but I wanted the epidural as soon as possible. "Hmf-" I squeezed George's hand. "Another one?" He asked softly. All I could do was nod. "You're doing amazing sweetheart, so so good. I'm so proud of you."

Once I got the injection I felt like a million bucks. I couldn't feel the contractions, just a little bit of pressure. I sat in the bed happily as I ate my ice chips. Before I knew it, it was time to push.

Liked by sidemen, prettylittlething and 1,004,586 others

y/username: we've been in our little baby bubble this week but I wanted to officially introduce you to Maddie Clarke🤍👼🏼💫

-comments-

georgeclarkeey: my girls❤️

max_balegdae: yasss mother

taliamar: congratulations🥺💓

y/nfanpage21: I'M CRYING

user02781643: they're literally living the dream life omg!!

"She looks just like you," I said as I watched George's eyes fill with tears, his arms secured around his daughter, just ten minutes after she'd entered the world. He glanced down at me. "I love you so much, this is officially the best day of my life," he whispered. I smiled fondly and somehow I fell in love with George all over again, in a completely different way.

We spent a day and a half in the hospital before being discharged. It had been just me, George and the baby in a little room so it felt amazing to go home. I waddled after my husband as I watched him carry our newborn -who slept soundly in her car seat- out and toward the car. He strapped her in then helped me into the backseat.

"I get what people were taking about now," I said as he stared the engine. "Huh?" "I saw a video about the 'hot dad walk' out of the hospital and I totally get them." He chuckled, though he was cautious of the sleeping baby.

After a few days and once we were in somewhat of a routine his family came over to visit. His slightly younger sister was so excited and could barely keep quiet. "She's adorable. Oh my goodness, look at her little feet!" "Okay everyone, no touching until you've washed your hands!" He announced, pointing towards the kitchen sink.

I watched with a smile on my face as he fussed over whether Maddie's head was supported, it was extremely sweet how much he cared for and loved our daughter. I couldn't wait to watch as he became the best dad ever.