#when a couple days ago it was raining and i wanted to lie in the grass and let it fall all over me

[whereistheonepiece]

Tomorrow is Zoro's birthday in my time zone so to celebrate my special little guy's bday I will attempt to work on my fic bc the next chapter is in his POV.

I say attempt bc I have been soo exhausted since 11/6. Can hardly get anything done aside from work. Hm. Must be unrelated to any current events.

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

I DREAM, NOW, OF A NORMAL LIFE WITH YOU ; SUGURU GETO

synopsis; suguru isn’t a lightweight. this is your first time actually seeing him drunk — though maybe it shouldn’t come as a surprise that he’d be the sappy kind.

word count; 9.4k (..... i got carried away ok)

contents; suguru geto/reader, gn!reader (shoko calls u "girl" but in a "girl help" way not a gendered way), written w a no curses au in mind, sugu is a sappy emotional drunk i said what i said, sickening amounts of fluff, depictions of intoxication, reader is averse to alcohol, sugu wants to marry u so bad it makes him look silly, lots of emotions & lots of love <33

a/n; this fic has been ROTTING in my drafts for the longest time but its super precious to me and now i finally get to post it!! @softgirlgonehaywire & @hayakawalove ily ty for being interested in sappy!sugu this is a treat for u <33

the bar isn’t all that far off from your apartment.

it’s a short distance, really. walk straight ahead, until you reach the record store that suguru likes to frequent, and then take a right; a minute or two uphill, and then you’ll be able to see the blue of the sea. once you’re there, all that’s left is to look for mellow golden lighting and descend a set of stairs.

which is what you’re currently doing, popsicle in hand, loose clothes and comfortable shoes on as you wallow in the mellow summer evening. everything is blue — the dark shade of the sky, and your ice pop, pastel and sweet, tasting of pure youth. the hoodie you threw on is a rich cobalt, suguru’s in name but yours in spirit. he only wears it when you complain that it doesn’t smell like him anymore.

humming a jolly tune, you take a sharp turn, allowing the summer sensations to curl around your subconscious. blissed out and content. 

you were so, so bored — stuck at home with no one to keep you company, no one to mumble snarky commentary about the show playing on tv, no one to run their fingers through your hair while your head rests in their lap. pure torture, really, being faced with the consequences of your own actions. after you stupidly told suguru you’d be okay on your own.

he even asked you twice, just to be sure, even told you that he’d prefer you to join him on his night out. and again, you declined; because it’s been so long since he had some time alone with shoko and satoru, and you were feeling a little tired anyways. 

so he gave in. heading out, with a promise to bring back a tub of your favorite ice cream, leaving you with the apartment to yourself. did you come to regret your little white lie? maybe. possibly.

but everything worked out in the end.

a pleasant breeze caresses your skin, brushing against the apple of your cheek, and you watch as peach blossoms dance in a faraway park. cicadas cling to every tree in sight, buzzing a pleasant tune, mingling with the giddy giggles of high school students enjoying their summer vacation. it’s been raining for a couple of days; you can still smell it in the air, feel it in the low tinge of humidity clinging to your skin, still hear suguru’s insistence that you bring an umbrella with you to work — just in case.

but today, the skies were clear, and it’s late, not too humid but not too chilly. and the stars are out, glimmering in that fuzzy sea of mellow cerulean, leaking out like little marbles cast into space. falling down, down, down, close enough for you to see. from here, it looks as if they’re waving. you resist the urge to wave back.

peace. bliss. a nostalgia so vibrant you could drown in it, feel it lick at your ankles like soft sea foam.

eager to scratch a certain itch in your brain, attention span zipping from one street vendor to the pop music blasting from a couple streets away, you take your phone out from your pocket. absently scrolling through your messages, until you get to the ones shoko sent you just ten minutes ago. the ones that brought you out here, into a summer evening soon to slip into nightfall, ones that have you walking to the bar you chose not to join them at.

messages that still have you pushing back a bout of giggles, chewing lazily on your ramune ice pop with a giddy smile.

sho 🚬: come get ur man sho 🚬: he’s drunk. sho 🚬: like DRUNK drunk 

you: …… um.  you: what happened to hi? hello?? good evening???

sho 🚬: no time for that. look sho 🚬: [ image ] sho 🚬: he looks so goofy lol

unable to resist the temptation, you press the pad of your finger against the screen — opening the image attachment, just to drink in the sight once again. what you see is a certain man, slumped over in his seat, cheek smooshed against the wooden table in front of him. messy hair, no longer tied into a bun, cascading down his shoulders and back. from the little you can see of his face, his skin is flushed a light pink, and his eyes are closed, fingers still curled around an empty beer jug. 

like a sleepy puppy.

a coo tiptoes on your tongue, but you bite down on your lip in an effort to stop it, just grinning at your screen with pure adoration in your lovesick eyes. 

he’s drunk, alright. an unfamiliar sight, but not at all unwelcome. because he’s cute, terribly so, so cute that it hurts, even when he’s obviously wasted. it’s almost funny — you know their drinking habits. shoko holds her liquor so well that it’s a little horrifying, and satoru can get wasted if he has more than a sip of it. and suguru?

suguru never gets drunk. he barely even drinks. out of consideration for satoru, maybe, or you. probably both. that’s just how he is; you thought he hated fish for years, because he was always so eager to give you the best bites of the sushi rolls you ordered. turns out he was just indulging you.

so, to be frank — the idea of him suddenly being drunk is a little bit of a shocker. but it’s also kind of exciting, in a ridiculous way. new, fun, just what you need when you’re bored out of your mind.

(or maybe you’re just happy to have an excuse to go see him.)

you: NOOOO  you: MY BABY 😭😭😭 you: what did u guys DO to him???

sho 🚬: satoru and him made a bet 😐 you know how they are sho 🚬: he drank like a divorced mother of four ive never seen something so beautiful

you: …. you: have i told you that you’re both terrible

sho 🚬: u love us <33 sho 🚬: anyway he’s been asking me where u are for the past ten minutes pls come i can’t stand him sho 🚬: he’s crying.

you: HUH???????? you: WHY????????????????

sho 🚬: dude i dont know sho 🚬: please come get him he’s being so sappy that satoru’s abt to throw up

you: ???? okok 😭 you: im omw ig??

sho 🚬: girl hurry he just told me he genuinely appreciates my presence in his life 😐

an exhale — laced with deep amusement — drops from your lips and spills into the summer air. it tastes like a memory from long ago.

slipping your phone back into your pocket, you raise your gaze, searching for a glimmer of goldish light. soaking up the scent of the ocean, sparkling on the border of your peripheral. salty and sweet.

no matter how hard you try, all you can think of is that certain someone, waiting for you to pick him up. your mind keeps drifting back to the way his eyes crinkle when he laughs, the way his hair falls over his face when he leans down, the sound he makes when he stretches in the morning.

you want to see him. badly. you want him near, want to feel the familiar warmth of his presence, want to see him smile and laugh and sigh and raise his eyebrow at your antics. 

so there isn’t any time to waste. you’re walking towards that familiar set of stairs before you know it, shoes hitting the asphalt with a mantra of satisfying thuds. 

and when you step in through the opened door, you’re immediately engulfed by a sense of overflowing comfort. mellow, warm lights, the soft buzzing of static from an old radio, low citypop beats trailing through the air. the bartender by the counter gives you a curt nod in greeting, before motioning towards a certain table. it’s over in the corner, covered in beer jugs and fancy glasses, with three beauties seated around it.

satoru notices you first.

a bright grin finds its way onto his face, and he waves you over giddily, happily. barely contained excitement in the motion. shoko’s gaze follows his, flitting over to meet yours — and you think she mouths an oh, thank god, before taking another sip from her glass. she brings a hand up in greeting when you come closer, and you can’t see her smile, but there’s a crinkle to her eyes; a warmth in them that you’d never miss.

”hey, guys.”

”yo!” satoru chirps, beaming in a way that’s so distinctly him it makes you soften. he looks so comfortable in his seat, with a cocktail you know is non-alcoholic and probably too sweet for anyone but him to stomach. giggling to himself, leaning over to poke suguru’s cheek, with a teasing declaration of your chaperone is here! 

and there he is. 

the man you came here for, still slumped over in his seat, unresponsive. not for long. as the lilt of your voice reaches his ears, his eyes flutter open, in a bout of recognition — even in the drunken state he’s in. an immediate sensation of familiarity creeps into his veins, rousing him from his cozy, half-asleep stupor. 

he doesn’t even grumble over the way satoru keeps poking at his cheek, interest and attention focused solely on a certain someone. you, your presence. 

and when your eyes meet his, he lights up.

it’s precious, you think, how his eyes widen, blooming with genuine affection, so endearing you could kiss him right then and there. his face is flushed, and his hair is tousled, and the warm lighting of the bar paints him in a golden hue. so perfect for him, your star in the sky. 

a smile spreads across his lips, big and happy and warm, and you can’t help but mirror it. 

(gosh, he’s cute.)

with a dizzy kind of eagerness, suguru sits up, palms flush against the table to support his weight. he stumbles out of his seat, paying no heed to satoru’s amused huff of careful! or the rattling of fragile glass.

it only takes a few uncoordinated steps for him to reach you, where you haphazardly lean against the wall, watching him amusedly. that delighted smile never leaves his lips, as his arms go to curl around your waist, big and heavy, his jaw finding its rightful place on the curve of your shoulder. 

”baby,” he drawls, fond and affectionate. breathing you in. ”sweetheart. my angel.”

a flustered puff of laughter slips from your lips, stumbling a little under his weight. his voice is syrupy sweet, overflowing with love and adoration, soft in a way that has your knees buckling. a little raspy. murmured right into your ear, sending pleasant shivers down your spine. 

he’s too sweet for you to handle, really, even sweeter than satoru’s overpriced cocktail. and he smells the same as always; a blend between coffee grounds, cigarette smoke and rain, one that never fails to soothe you. even when it’s tangled up with a vague but vivid stench of alcohol, courtesy of the drinking he’s been doing until now. 

you crinkle your nose, but don’t let go of him, nuzzling your cheek against the side of his head. words buzzing with warmth. ”hey, sugu.”

suguru only squeezes you tighter, content to have you in his arms. finally, his world makes sense again. all he can do is bask in your voice, warmth, scent — he’s just so enamored by it all. almost in a trance, heartstrings dancing along to the beat of your presence, your very existence, that appears to him as something almost angelic. soft and familiar, something that feels right at home when it’s tucked into his embrace. where he can keep it safe.

”missed you…” he murmurs, sleepy, smearing an open mouthed kiss against the crook of your neck. ”i love you s’much…”

a chuckle. ”i love you too,” you echo, running a steady hand over his back. your voice is laced with something teasing, but awfully fond. ”you really are drunk, aren’t you?”

”mm…” he only hums, cheek pressed flush against your soft skin. ”’m sorry…” he mumbles, stifling a yawn. he sounds a little guilty, and it makes you want to coo. pull his cheek a little.

instead, you laugh. amusement vowen into the bubbly noise. ”it’s fine, sugu. c’mon — let’s go home, alright?”

at that, satoru visibly reacts, placing his glass on the table with a soft clink before getting up to stretch. he grabs suguru’s discarded jacket, letting it hang off his arm as he walks over to the two of you.

”i’ll help you carry him,” he smiles, always so dependable. so ready to be of service. maybe a little too eager to carry suguru around like a sack of potatoes. 

a smile blooms on your face, and satoru gives you a playful wink. shoko just leans back in her seat, stretching idly. it feels like home with them there.

”i’ll stay here,” she hums, a faint grin tugging at her lips. ”he’s your problem now.”

”got it.” you meet her lidded eyes, sharing an amused look as satoru tries to coax suguru away from you, pulling at his cheek while he whines and clings to the fabric of your clothing.

finally, he relents, and you look back at the table with a grin. ”see you later, sho’.”

a smile is the only response you get, but it’s enough. it’s her, the same as always, still sipping from a glass of expensive whiskey and raising her hand in a silent see you. relaxed and cool, and so very lovely. 

with one arm over satoru’s shoulder and the other clinging to your hoodie, suguru stirs.

”shoko…” he groans, craning his head to look back at her, even as satoru makes a move to leave. ”don’t drink too much. and watch out for strangers…” 

he trails off, blinking drowsily, a protective tone to his voice. worried. awfully like him. neither you nor satoru can resist the chuckle you indulge in, but shoko just rolls her hazel eyes.

”i don’t need to hear that from you,” she scoffs, tinged with amusement and what you’re almost certain is embarrassment. there’s a fondness to her snark, one you’d never miss. 

(shoko will always be shoko. you know that she appreciates suguru’s concern, even if she doesn’t want to show it.)

”alright, c’mon,” satoru quips, slapping suguru’s back with a grin. ”there, there, big guy. let’s get you home, hm?”

just as you suspected, he doesn’t let you help, doing all the heavy lifting on his own. not breaking a single sweat, flaunting his strength as he hoists suguru up the steps — while you do nothing but follow, a light jacket hanging off your arm. 

cold midnight air embraces you, slathering your cheeks with the essence of summer as your shoes meet the asphalt. satoru smiles, a low exhale escaping him, dusting off his hands. ”there we go.”

suguru stumbles towards you, no longer caged in, slumping against your shoulder with a satisfied sigh. blinking slowly, as you link arms, his muddled senses adjusting to the outside world. a pleasantly blue sky, a sun long set, and a string of lamp posts to light up the street ahead of you. artificial fireflies, watching over the town you love so dearly.

you part your lips, and a soft exhale slips out, dripping with fondness. ”thanks, satoru,” you smile, meeting his gaze.

”don’t mention it,” he waves you off, but you know he appreciates it; always eager to be praised. ”can you bring him back by yourself?”

”yeah, we’ll be fine. it’s close, anyway. don’t worry.”

a hum buzzes in his throat, and his cobalt gaze drifts upwards, to bask in the starry sky. a moment passes, and then he’s looking back at you and suguru; a soft and earnest smile playing at his lips. so sincere you want to reach out, cup his cheek, make sure he knows how loved he is.

”i’ll go back to shoko, then,” he chirps. bubbly and graceful, giddy and playful. always so lovely. ”gotta make sure she stays out of trouble.”

a chuckle. you mirror his smile. ”of course.”

and with that, your precious best friend makes a move to return to the bar, taking a decisive step away from you. before he can get too far, though, a certain hand reaches out to hold onto his sleeve — keeping him still.

satoru turns around. blinking once, then twice, in confusion; faced with none other than suguru, still slumped against you. a little out of it, sleepy and disoriented, yawning quietly, but his eyes are as clear as ever. caring and sentimental. 

his gaze cuts to the bone of things. it’s something you’ve grown used to.

”thanks, satoru,” he murmurs, letting go of said man’s shirt. the words that spill from his lips are straightforward, a little tactless, but overflowing with earnest appreciation. ”you’re my best friend.”

a moment passes. the stars burn in silence.

satoru blinks.

then he sighs, with what you know is nothing more than feigned annoyance. masking his embarrassment, the same way shoko did, the same way suguru always does. your repressed, beloved little losers. 

”yeah, yeah. i got it,” he pats suguru’s shoulder, once, twice. not looking at him. ”you’re such a sap, you know that? geez.”

a grin crawls up to rest on your lips, fresh mischief blooming in your eyes. ”not gonna call him your best friend back?” you tease, a soft tilt of your head.

satoru gives you a glare, playful, one you can’t physically see from behind his shades but still somehow sense. ”don’t add fuel to the fire,” he grins, with a halfhearted flick to your forehead.

before you can bicker further, suguru yawns, loudly, closing his eyes and nuzzling into you. you share an amused look with satoru, until he shakes his head fondly.

”take care of him, alright?”

”i will. you guys have fun!”

and at last, satoru turns on his heel, coupled with a smile and a lazy wave. but suguru calls out to him once more, unwilling to part ways without saying his piece. so sentimental, so loving it comes to him like breathing.

”bye-bye, satoru,” he slurs, voice loud enough for the entire street to hear, tired and honest. raising his arm in a lazy wave. ”i love you!”

”go home already!” satoru shouts, descending down the steps with a flush to his cheeks that you’ll tease him for later. his soft laughter is carried away by the breeze, sweet and saccharine.

(satoru will always be satoru. you know that he loves suguru back, even if he doesn’t want to say it out loud.)

with a faint chuckle, melting into the summer air, you tug on suguru’s arm. ”alright,” you chirp, looking up at him. ”let’s go!”

he seems a little more awake now, at least, trying to match your steps. meanwhile, you do what you can to support his weight; he’s stumbling a bit, but you don’t mind. if anything, his weight is a comfort, your arms linked together like a lucky charm. a safe harbour.

suguru is acting kind of like a big puppy, gazing at you with hearts in his eyes. a little meek, clinging to you, trailing after you pliantly. he’s a little dizzy, still, and he needs you to get back home in one piece. it makes you puff out your chest, stand up straighter. makes you feel protective of your 6’2 boyfriend, all toned muscle and broad shoulders, the personification of scary dog privilege. but he needs you right now.

a soft bout of laughter spills into the air, as you try to ignore his heavy stare. it’s impossible, though — so you turn your gaze to meet his own, and he practically glows under the sound of your giggles, that cheeky smile you’re wearing. ”you okay, suguru?”

his eyes soften. silently, he runs a thumb over the knots of your knuckle, smoothing down your skin, thick fingers intertwined with yours. 

he looks deep into your eyes, and a soft hum of affirmation buzzes in his throat. 

”i’m just so happy,” he grins, with a sincerity that has your heart doing flips inside your ribcage. it flutters, flutters, flutters, in the wake of his unbridled joy. it buzzes like it wants to break out.

suguru has this dreamy look on his face, one you can do nothing but admire, painted over with fluorescent moonlight and pure summer bliss. one that reminds you a little of high school rooftops, midnight road trips, what it means to be in love.

you nudge him, softly, with the arm that’s tangled up in his own. tilting your head, teasing words on the tip of your tongue. ”you know, i never took you for a sappy drunk.”

suguru's only response is a cute little mmrn, steps heavy as he leans on you for support. trying his best to carry himself, not wanting to inconvenience you, but it’s just a little tough. especially when he feels this soft, this grateful — this blessed.

a giddy, dreamy smile tugs at his lips. his amber gaze travels up, towards the little pale dots of star clusters all across the night sky, gleaming like milk poured over rich coffee. then he exhales; a soft, blissful little sound. ”i’m so lucky.”

a moment passes, silently. in the distance, cicadas buzz. with a patient smile, you admire him, the reflection of starlight in his eyes. suguru has this forlorn look, etched into his expression, like he’s seeing something that isn’t quite there.

”i have satoru and shoko…” he mumbles, just loud enough for you to hear. as if he’s tasting the words on his tongue, as if he can’t quite believe them himself. that’s how lucky he feels, sometimes.

a nod. ”they love you a bunch, you know?”

(they do. they’re both horrible at saying it out loud, but you know they do. you know that they love suguru, just as much as he loves them, even if none of them are good at putting it into words. perhaps they don’t really even need to, in the first place.)

suguru mirrors the soft nod of your head, bangs falling over his eyes as he does. ”and i love them, too.” his smile grows. ”they’re my best friends.”

absently, you reach a hand out, brushing away the strands of hair obscuring his vision. and suguru stirs, his gaze shifting until it falls on you. like a moth to a flame. there’s something indescribable in his eyes, soft and heavy and tender and true.

”— and i have you.”

a stutter of your heartbeat, a jolt throughout your chest. his stare almost burns, but you can’t avert your gaze — suguru looks positively lovesick. admiring you with a dreamy gaze, as if he can’t believe you’re real. 

he reaches a hand out; cradling your face with one big palm, the rough pads of his fingers smoothing down your skin so very gently. smearing his fondness from your jaw to your cheekbone, so loving your breath hitches in the back of your throat. 

a soft, content sigh spills into the air, like a prayer that doesn’t need any words. his smile is serene.

”my angel.” 

as the words fall, that peaceful smile of his changes shape, shifting into a big, giddy grin. it lights up his whole face. a chuckle leaves his lips, content and delighted. ”i’m the luckiest guy in the world.”

and for a moment, you fear that your heart will stop beating entirely. frozen, listening to the lullaby of your heartbeat resounding in your ears. 

suguru has always been frighteningly good at flustering you — but isn’t this a little unfair? you clear your throat, hoping to regain some composure. it’s tough, though. your words could never measure up to his, could never flow as freely, but they’re honest. wholly and thoroughly. and maybe that’s enough. 

”we’re the luckiest in the world, too, then,” you echo, smiling, words barely above a whisper. willing yourself to meet his gaze. ”since we have you.”

suguru looks into your eyes. there’s starlight inside them, he thinks, shining brightly, gleaming in the dark. with the hazy filter of intoxication clouding his mind, it’s all he can think. you’re his northern star, his lighthouse. his one and only saving grace.

(you’re so, so pretty.)

a pause. after a silent moment, spent etching your features into his retinas, suguru tilts his head. his expression is unreadable.

— he boops your nose.

you blink. once, twice, caught entirely off guard; and suguru giggles. soft, giddy little breaths falling from his lips like marbles, strewn over the sand of a warm beach. his eyes are crinkled at the edges, and his smile is sweet, meeting your surprised gaze with a honeyed coo. ”you’re so cute, baby.”

silence. you look up at him. 

then you sigh, exasperated, more flustered than you’d like to admit. god. okay, he’s really out of it. for some reason, you still thought you could get a good one-liner in, but of course he had to ruin that by being a little tease.

you grab onto his bicep. gaze fixed straight ahead, giving it a tug. your steps are more decisive now, and suguru follows you happily. ”alright, alright. c’mon,” you beckon, slightly gruff. ”we’re almost there.”

when you finally reach the familiar front door of your apartment, you exhale a deep sigh, laced with pure relief. limbs tired from dragging suguru up the stairs, mind muddled and sleepy and senses practically engulfed by a man still clinging to you like his life depends on it.

after fumbling with your keys and hearing the click of the lock, you take a victorious step over the threshold, and a familiar scent greets you. soothing, comforting, a blend between fresh laundry and leftover curry and blooming hydrangeas. filling your senses with a fervent kind of bliss. of course, suguru’s does the same; intimately intertwined with the scent of home. that everlasting, never-changing blend. 

with him clinging to you like this, it’s almost suffocating — but you truly don’t mind. suguru’s warm, and sweet, and being close to him like this makes you feel at peace. his hands rest on your hips, his jaw on your shoulder, and he adamantly refuses to let go of you for even a second. it’d be annoying if he wasn’t so cute, if he wasn’t suguru geto, if you weren’t so horrendously weak for him.

what you don’t know is that suguru has an agenda. one that isn’t just i want to hug the love of my life, although partially that as well. suguru has a plan, one he’s been absentmindedly dreaming of for the past five minutes; he’s a man on a mission.

but he’s patient. always has been, always for you. so he waits, and waits, for you to hang his jacket up, for you to kick your shoes off your feet. and when you’re finally, finally finished, suguru leans in to kiss you.

— you block his mouth with the palm of your hand.

a moment passes. silent, almost tense. in his stupor, suguru’s mind can’t quite seem to comprehend the situation before him; he doesn’t understand why he isn’t pressing a kiss to your lips, right now, why he’s kissing the skin of your palm. he doesn’t understand why you look so troubled, a faint guilt simmering in your eyes. he just doesn’t understand.

all he can do is blink, dumbly, surprised. a question written on his features clear as day. 

”well, it’s just…” you sputter, sheepishly. avoiding his gaze, a little guilty. ”you know. since you’ve been drinking, and all…”

and it hurts, you think. it hurts a lot more than it should. it hurts to reject him, hurts to see the way he deflates at your clarification. like a big kicked puppy. like you just threatened to throw him out into the street.

suguru removes your hand, gently, holding it in his own as he speaks. those amber eyes are downcast, and a soft pout rests on his lips. the sight alone feels like a dagger to your chest.

”but…” he frowns, voice awfully meek. he looks so sad. ”i wanna kiss you…”

a soft sigh leaves your lips, before you can think to hold it in. oh, he’s being so unfair. guilt clings to your mind, an itch you yearn to scratch, and all you want is to kiss his pout away. but you really, really don’t want to kiss his alcohol-soaked lips.

so you settle for the second best option.

”’m sorry, sugu,” you coo, reaching a hand out to cradle his cheek. he leans into your touch, still pouting, and you tug a little at his bottom lip. wasting no time in closing the narrow distance between you.

the kisses you press against his skin are soft. peppering kisses all across his face; ghosting your lips along his jaw, trailing towards his cheekbones, and settling on his forehead. tiny little pecks, wherever you can reach. your voice is soft, muffled into his skin between butterfly kisses. ”tomorrow, okay?” 

and suguru seems to brighten up a little, melting under the contact, exhaling in pure bliss. he fervently returns the treatment, planting open mouthed kisses all over your face, respecting your wishes and avoiding your lips. they’re a little sloppy, but you don’t mind.

it does make you a little flustered, though. with his palms cradling your face, engulfing you, there’s nothing you can do except drown in his affection, the love he showers you with. it tickles — and suguru’s smile only grows, at the sound of your soft giggles. his cheeks are starting to hurt.

the state he’s in is just a little bit hazy. despite his initial dejection, he no longer minds that he can’t feel your lips against his, disappointment warded off by your smile and laughter alone. he thinks you’re so, so cute, and all he wants is to kiss you forever. 

but you have other plans.

and before you know it, you’re both curled up in bed, limbs all tangled up beneath the blankets, bodies pressed together as suguru cages you in. he squeezes you tightly, hugging you close, practically melting into you. usually, it’d be so easy to fall asleep like this. with suguru cradling you, covering your body with his own, warm and safe. he’s like a furnace. 

but right now, it’s a little tough. you’re kept awake by open mouthed, ticklish kisses pressed against your skin, supplied by the love of your life. it’s sweet, but he’s being far too distracting — as soon as your consciousness begins to fade into the fuzzy realm of sleep, he leaves a sloppy kiss against your collarbone, and you’re jolted awake once more. 

”suguuu,” you whine, dragging his name out with childish inclination. ”we need to sleep…”  

”sorry,” he only murmurs, muffled into your skin. he doesn’t stop, though, planting a wet smooch on your cheek, and then another. you squirm a little in his hold, and he emits a shaky breath. ”jus’ love you so much…”

suguru knows that he needs to stop. he knows that both of you need to sleep, that you need to rest up. that he needs to recover from the intoxicated state he’s fully aware that he’s in — but he just can’t seem to follow through with it. every cell in his body burns with a certain desire, a need to shower you in love, and it’s unendurable. with every kiss, every giggle he manages to pull from your lips, suguru’s heart fills up just a little more. 

your presence surrounds him, like a weighted blanket, and he clings to it with a desperation he never knew before you. 

in the midst of his feverish consciousness, you’re all his muddled mind can think about. the way you fit together with him like a puzzle piece, like he was formed in the shape of someone meant to hold you. like you were formed in the shape of his embrace. with you pressed up against him, limbs tangled with his, everything feels so right.

but it’s so overwhelming. 

you’re so, so close, so close he’s practically engulfed by your scent, your touch, everything that makes his heart burn with devotion. it’s beating so viscerally in his ribcage, stirring the protective instinct inside him; he just wants you to stay close, by his side, wants to keep you safe and happy. wants to make you feel loved. 

suguru’s heart feels wet and raw and bare, fully exposed for you to see. beating just for you.

with the alcohol inside his veins, and the nostalgia of the summer evening on his mind, everything weighs on him just a little too heavily. everything feels just a little too much. every sensation, every emotion, every sappy thought. all of it together is almost too much for him to handle.

all he can think of is you. how lucky he is, to have met you, to have gotten to know you. how much you’ve changed him, changed him for the better, how much of him is directly tied to your existence.

suguru never truly appreciated his name until you came into his life. it was always no more than a simple fact, a gift from his parents that he hadn’t asked for. something natural, that he didn’t question, didn’t think about. 

but you say his name with such warmth.

he wants to hear you say it, over and over again, forever. suguru — in that sweet, lovely voice of yours. better yet, just sugu, a cutesy, silly nickname he could never bring himself to actually hate. he just wants to hear you call out to him, with that warmth of yours, the one that never fails to soothe him. no matter how tired he is, how stressed. how much everything else weighs down on him. 

at the end of the day, he’s simply your sugu. and that’s all he ever really wants to be.

with a hazy filter clouding his senses, coaxing him into closing his eyes, suguru should give in. he should fall asleep, let you fall asleep. but he can’t bring himself to stop thinking about it; he just loves you so wholly. who you are, what you do. as an equal, an individual, a little galaxy tucked into a body made of flesh and blood. no matter what you’re doing, no matter where you are. 

and right now, you’re here, with him. curled up in bed, in your shared apartment, inhaling the same air, exhaling at the same time. by his side, when you could be anywhere else in the world.

his heart is yours. that’s all suguru can bring himself to think, the only coherent thought he can cling to and echo in his head. his heart is yours. forever and ever. 

he makes no attempt to stop the tears from pooling in his eyes, even as he feels them cling to his lashes, even as his breathing clogs up in the back of his throat. they’re proof of his devotion, his carefully nurtured love. growing over the years, into something almost sacred, a kind of faith. something so fervent he wouldn’t dare deny himself of feeling it.

he can’t hold in a faint sniffle, either, just barely audible. one that breaks your heart in two. it aches, aches, aches. suguru is gazing at you with glassy eyes, a sight you aren’t used to seeing — but he also looks so genuinely glad. his tears aren’t ones of sadness. you know, because you know him. 

”aw, honey…” you coo, the pads of your fingers reaching out to cradle his cheek. despite your efforts, your voice wavers when you speak, little more than a whisper. ”don’t cry... you’ll make me cry, too.”

suguru places his larger palm over yours, choking on another sniffle. the sight renders you completely helpless — you want so desperately to stop his tears from falling, but a part of you is too touched to speak. too mesmerized by how beautiful he is, translucent tears illuminated by softly flickering moonrays, lashes glimmering like shooting stars.

all you can do is smooth a thumb right under his eye, wiping away a stray tear with enough tenderness to stitch his heart back together. suguru emits a shaky breath.

”’m sorry,” he sniffles, closing his eyes. nuzzling into the crook of your neck. ”i’m just so happy… love you so much… you mean so, so much to me, i…”

an exhale, a little breathless, tears soaking through the material of the shirt you’re wearing. his shirt. that realization makes him cry even more, a shuddering breath that shatters like glass when it drops from his tongue. 

and then, in a voice so quiet you barely hear it, a soft whisper worth a million words:

”i don’t know what i’d do without you.”

and it hurts. your heart aches so sincerely, thorns curling around your ribcage, because suguru is crying, and he’s telling you all this. with such an honest intonation that you don’t dare doubt him, even for a second. heavy thumps of blood rush through your veins; he’s still clinging to you, sniffling into your neck, and you’re so in love with him that you almost can’t comprehend it.

all you can do is press a kiss to his shoulder, chaste and tender, and hug him just a little tighter. echoing his words, in earnest, desperately trying to keep your voice from breaking apart. ”i love you, too. more than anything.” a sigh, full of wonder. little butterfly kisses scattered across the expanse of his neck. ”you mean the world to me. honestly.”

with a smile against his skin, you hope so tenderly that the soft kisses will comfort him, will stop the tears from falling. 

”my sweet boy,” you murmur, lovingly, because he is. the sweetest boy you’ll ever know. suguru shudders when you press your lips against his jaw. ”i’m so, so lucky.”

with the combined efforts of your kisses, the alcohol slumbering inside his veins, and the tears running down his cheeks, suguru begins to feel awfully tired. sinking into sleep’s embrace, like a sailor lost at sea. comforted by the glimmer of a lighthouse, just out of reach.

everything feels right. he’s safe, and happy, and in love. so hopelessly, blissfully in love.

the exhaustion creeps up on him, tidal waves embracing a shore, beckoning him into closing his weary eyes. a yawn leaves his lips, and he shifts a little in your hold. you’re smoothing down the back of his head, almost protectively, and sleep is only a flicker away for the both of you. with the last of his strength, suguru snuggles just a little further into you, nose pressed up against your neck, close enough that he feels the flutter of your heartbeat. 

”wanna be with you forever,” he murmurs, sleepily, stifling another bout of yawns. his smile is sweet and dreamy. ”gonna marry you one day…”

a moment passes.

for a second, you think your heart does actually cease beating entirely.

swallowing a gulp, you allow yourself the luxury of an inhale — and fresh air fills your lungs. grounding. all you can hear is the rapid beating of your own heart, heavy thumps reverberating in your ears. warmth flows through your entire body.

marry.

the word is spoken so casually, so sincerely, as if he’s said it countless times before. as if he’s repeated it, over and over again in his mind, just to get used to the idea. as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. marriage. something so foreign, so scary, enough to send shivers down every narrow of your skeleton. such a large step to take. 

(but suguru says it with such tenderness.)

”… okay,” you whisper, at last. breathless. ”i’ll be waiting, then.”

there’s nothing else to say. you don’t know if suguru is even conscious enough to hear you, let alone understand the full weight of your words, of his own words. but you don’t mind. 

a soft smile lingers on your lips, as you stroke his hair, mind hazy and limbs heavy. nuzzling your cheek against the side of his head, full of affection. dripping from your hands down to the column on his throat, through his windpipe, down to his heart.

”goodnight, sugu.” you press a kiss to his messy hair, tender and chaste. ”i love you.”

an incoherent mutter leaves his lips, in response, one you can’t quite make out — but you don’t need to. because you already know what it means, in the same way you know that the sky is blue.

(an echo buried deep within his subconscious, voiced without effort, as easy as breathing.

i love you, too.)

the sizzling of a pan and the whirring of a coffee machine form a beautiful morning symphony, bouncing off the walls of your kitchen. to your ears, and your still sleepy brain, it’s a soothing sound — coaxing soft little melodic hums from the depths of your throat.

with such a tantalizing aroma in the air, a blend between espresso and pancake batter, you can’t help but buzz with a mellow, groggy kind of joy.

honestly, you're beginning to understand suguru’s fondness for the morning hours. waking up to his soft snores and content expression was more than enough to give you the energy you needed to get out of bed; all sleepy and relaxed and pretty, with hazy morning sunrays kissing up his bare skin, caressing his messy bedhead. 

a rare sight, awfully precious. a part of you wanted to stay in bed and admire him all morning, but the thought of taking care of him coaxed you into leaving. it’s the least you could do, really — after seeing him so sincere, so open and vulnerable. 

hopefully, his headache won’t be too brutal when he wakes up. you left some hangover pills on the nightstand, courtesy of shoko’s advice: just get him ibuprofen and coffee. works like a charm. are you a little worried about her nonchalance? maybe. but you trust her judgement. they’re a handful, but you love them — even when they’re drunk or hungover. 

which is why you’re standing in the kitchen, engulfed by the morning sunlight, in front of a sizzling pan. trying your very best not to burn the pancakes you’re making, patiently waiting for the coffee to be done. 

in your blissful stupor, caught up with thoughts of suguru and breakfast and forevers, you don’t notice another presence coming up behind you.

two arms wrap around your waist, and a jaw attaches itself to the curve of your shoulder. you startle, a little, jolting at the contact — but then you recognize that telltale scent, the familiar weight of his arms, and immediately melt into the embrace.

suguru breathes out a raspy chuckle, amused at your surprise. 

a sigh slips from your lips, content. ”good morning,” you hum, placing the palm of your hand on his forearm. suguru shifts a little, getting more comfortable as he leans against you. tenderly, not too much weight. he’s delicate like that.

”g’morning,” he rasps, leftover sleep clinging to the syllables. the usual smoothness of his voice is coupled with a deep, rough kind of tilt, one that always accompanies it in the morning. your heartbeat picks up, silently.

suguru smiles. dreamy, giddy, because you just looked so pretty, in the morning light, hair still a tad messy. humming happily, swaying slightly side to side. so irresistible. he’s beginning to understand why you love sleeping in so much; getting to wrap his arms around you like this, instead of the other way around, doesn’t feel bad at all.

he squeezes you just a little tighter, hoping it’ll convey his gratitude. there are holes in his memory, last night no more than a blurry sequence of still images, but some bits and pieces remain intact. he remembers getting drunk in a way he hasn’t since he made that bet with satoru back in high school — and he remembers that you were there to take care of him.

a smile tugs at his lips. a little giddy, butterflies erupting in his chest. he’s so damn lucky.

”thanks for taking care of me yesterday, sweetheart.”

a hum. you smile, sheepishly, patting his arm. ”don’t need to thank me for that. how do you feel?”

suguru smiles. you feel it, against your skin, a chaste kiss on your neck. ”better.”

the low purring of the coffee machine has stopped, but the sizzling of the pan remains. from beyond the opened windows, you can hear the chirping of cicadas, melodic and serene. singing a summery tune. both of you soak in the preciousness of the moment, the fragile silence, before suguru breaks it.

”everything from last night is kinda fuzzy,” he admits, clearing his throat. just a tad sheepish. you simply hum, a low noise of acknowledgement, and he continues. ”i don’t really remember anything… ’m sorry, baby. i hope i didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

your lips curl up into a tiny smile. such a sweetheart — always worrying about you. always so caring and attentive. eager to reassure him, you smooth over the skin of his arm with your thumb. ”not at all.”

then you’re taking a couple steps back, moving from the stove, and suguru follows. you turn yourself around to meet his gaze, his arms still attached to your waist, a comforting weight.

a grin blooms on your lips, a little teasing, and a flicker of mischief shines in your eyes. ”you were cute, you know.”

suguru blinks, before emitting a low chuckle. a raspy little thing. ”was i?” he drawls, as you brush his bangs away from his face. 

”mhm,” you chirp, eyes crinkled as they meet his own. you just can’t help but want to tease him, a little bit. just a smidge. ”kept going on and on about how much you love us.”

hands moving to cup his face, you squeeze his cheeks softly. and suguru lets you, too tired to resist, only giving you a lazy raise of his brow. there’s a sense of amusement in his eyes, and something in you knows he likes the attention. your teasing words buzz with endearment, akin to a purr. ”my sweet lil’ sugu.”

all he does is lean into your touch, allowing himself to melt into the tenderness of the physical contact. even as you pull at his cheek, earning you a very gentle pinch to your side. but he lets you have your fun. you’re warm, and sweet, and he’s so in love with you he’d probably let you tug his body around however you please.

still, your words leave him just slightly perplexed. he’s still smiling with half-lidded eyes when he asks you to elaborate, basking in the feeling of your thumb smoothing over his cheekbone. ”us?”

your grin widens, by a tad, something deeply amused glimmering in the depths of your iris. ”yep,” you answer, popping the p. for some reason, suguru dreads the teasing edge to your voice. ”me, and shoko, and satoru.”

a moment passes. he stiffens, for a second or two, mind processing the words. then he groans, softly, squeezing his eyes shut.

it makes you laugh, soft and amused, and he can’t help but smile along. despite the dreadful realization you present him with. no wonder he was met with so many notifications when he tapped at the screen of his phone — he didn’t read through any of them, but now he’s apprehensive to do so at all. shoko and satoru can be so goddamn obnoxious when they feel as if they have blackmail on him.

he can see it now, in his mind’s eye; shoko nagging him to run her errands, satoru reminding him of his words every time they have a slight disagreement. 

(grab me a coffee. three shots of espresso, one cube of sugar. got it?)

slacker.

(we both know i’m right. don’t be so stubborn, suguru! it’s okay to be wrong sometimes.)

asshole.

(c’mon. you said you loved me, right?

so mean. and here i thought you loved me!)

idiots.

(he does love them. more than anything. even when they’re being absolutely insufferable.)

suguru just sighs, deep and fatigued, already anticipating his doom. ”they’re never gonna let me live it down, are they?”

a giggle slips from your lips, and his heart flutters helplessly. ”probably not. my condolences.”

another sigh. it only makes your smile widen. there’s something awfully delighted, in your eyes, as you cradle his face in your hands. ”well, i thought you were very sweet!”

”yeah, yeah…” he mutters, vaguely amused. placing one of his large palms over your hand, where it rests on his cheek. ”i won’t be doing that again anytime soon.”

a chuckles bubbles up from within your throat. ”aww,” you pout, giving way to a teasing grin. ”that’s a shame. i wanted to hear you talk about how much you love me again.”

suguru blinks. 

then he smiles. a very particular smile, characteristic, one you’ve come to associate solely with him. resting somewhere in the intersection between a soft grin and a teasing smirk. a flicker of mischief shines in his eyes, and you realize your mistake.

you can tease suguru all you want; but he'll always turn the tables on you, at the end of the day.

”oh?” he chuckles, fondly, thumb smoothing over the lines of your hand. his eyes gleam, looking straight into yours, shining with something mildly devilish. ”i don’t need to get drunk to tell you that, baby.”

in a smooth motion, one you can’t help but silently envy, suguru intertwines his fingers with yours and brings your hand to his lips. he never once breaks eye contact, gaze heavy as he basks in your flustered expression, planting a soft kiss against your knuckle. reverent.

”i love you. more than anything,” he purrs, lips still lingering on your skin. warm enough to burn. ”you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

a pause. heat crawls up your spine, and a flush rises to your cheeks. you couldn’t stop it if you tried.

”my everything,” he continues, intent on flustering you as much as humanly possible. voice low and smooth, honeyed and deep, and worst of all; terribly earnest. lips trailing over your knuckles, against every knot, so soft that you barely feel it. ”my entire world.”

”okay, okay!” you sputter, an embarrassed hue to your cheeks, your gaze landing on the windowpane to your right. his stare is just too heavy, too deeply in love. overwhelming. ”point taken. nevermind.”

suguru laughs, genuine and full. warm and amused, deep and real, and you catch yourself thinking that you don’t want to go a single day without hearing it. even if it’s at your own expense.

a coo rests on his the tip of his tongue, but he bites it back, opting to lean forward instead. he trails the pads of his fingers along your jaw, touch like a butterfly, lifting your chin up ever so slightly. then he closes the distance between you. 

in your throat, your breath hitches.

— but he doesn’t kiss you. suguru stops right in front of your lips, so close you can feel his breath on your skin, taking a moment to simply look into your eyes. and despite how flustered the close proximity makes you, you can’t bring yourself to look away. heart fluttering madly, a string of staccatos against your parted ribs.

a tilt of his head. amber eyes gleaming, crinkled and fond. ”can i kiss you, now?” he asks, grinning softly. hand smoothing down your hip, big and warm, teasing. ”i made sure to brush away all the alcohol. or do you still not want to?”

you pause. 

”hey, what happened to not remembering anything?” you pout, narrowing your eyes. the corner of suguru’s bottom lip twitches upwards.

but he only shrugs, feigning nonchalance, a playful glint in his eyes. ”guess i was just that disappointed.”

a giggle flows from your lips. he drinks it in, gazing at you with pure contentment.

”alright, alright... c’mere,” you coo, smile honeyed and sweet. tracing your fingertips along his jaw, brushing a silky strand of hair behind his ear. you take in the sight of him, meeting his lovesick gaze. he squeezes at your hips softly, a little impatient — so you finally lean in.

suguru’s lips are warm, when they meet yours. they taste like sunlight, devoid of any alcoholic flavour, just like he so kindly assured you of. and it’s a little amusing, the thought of him in front of the bathroom sink — desperately scrubbing his teeth, just to get his kissing privileges back. such a dork. 

he’s your dork, though.

suguru sighs into the kiss, smiling giddily, satisfied at last. a sound you can’t help but mirror. he deepens it, ever so slightly, fingers squeezing gently at the plush of your waist. a hum of approval buzzes in your throat, and his smile only grows.

when he pulls away, that smile is all you can see, along with the ever so slight flush to his cheeks. a hint of peach dusting his skin, framed by the sunrays caressing his jaw, highlighting his handsome features. breathtaking. 

before you have a chance to protest, he’s leaning in again, to press one more chaste kiss to your lips. your heartbeat picks up.

everything finally feels just right.

the warmth of the sizzling pan, the fragrance of freshly made coffee and now-burnt pancakes. the light of the morning sun, scattered across the open space of your apartment, splotches of life painting everything in a heavenly glow. the love in the air, all soft and light and comfortable.

domestic bliss. with suguru, who never seems to change, no matter how many years go by. if you could live in this moment for the rest of your life, forever and ever, you’re sure you’d die happy.

and wow, is that a heavy word. forever. 

(but suguru makes it feel so very, very light.)

forever feels a lot more real, like this. cradled in the midst of a drowsy morning, bumping elbows with the man you love most, after getting to take care of him in his most vulnerable state. accepting every part of him, and having him accept you just as fervently. 

just this moment alone is worth far more than you could ever comprehend. 

suguru, with his warm hands, his familiar embrace. your shared laughter, bouncing off the walls of the kitchen as you try in vain to save your scorched pancakes. and his smile, his fervent devotion, coaxing him into eating them even though they’re burnt at the edges and don’t taste even a quarter as good as his. because you made them, for him, and that makes them taste sweeter than anything.

you stare at him, from across the table, admiring the sight you’ve grown so used to; suguru, with his slightly tousled hair, mug in hand and smile painted on his handsome face. drowned in sunlight, pink petals flitting in through the opened window. you don’t want a single day to ever pass without you seeing this. what does that mean, exactly? you think you know. 

it means forever.

(forever, forever, forever. what a pretty word.)

marriage. you think of it, again, let it linger in the depths of your skull, bounce around until you grow just a little more used to it. and it’s a scary thought, for sure. a terrifying thought, even, something so foreign that it makes you nervous. but you truly wouldn’t mind doing this forever — not one bit. not if it’s with him.

and, unbeknownst to you, maybe that promise of forever isn’t all that far off.

maybe it’s only a couple rooms away, hidden within the depths of a certain drawer, until suguru finally gets the courage to bring it out. and maybe, just maybe — that day isn’t all that far off, either.

(suguru smiles at you, from across the table. he thinks you look ethereal, sipping from your morning coffee, blinking tiredly. so sweet and angelic.

all he can think of is forever.)

[restinslices]

Everything

PJO Show Ares x Child!Reader (no gender specified)

Word count: 2459

Summary: Ares supposedly hates kids, so it’s really strange that he comes when you call. (Do not let the summary fool you, this is not fluff. Based on a dream I had a couple days ago. Warning for possible ooc Ares and brief mentions of abuse. Blink and you’ll miss it type shit)

“I don't wanna say”, Grover fingers fidgeted with each other as he purposefully avoided eye contact with you. 

“We're friends, right?”

“Of course!”

“Then you have to tell me! You spoke to my father, I gotta know what he said! What was he like? I bet he was really cool! Man, I wish I could've been there and talked to him”, you looked down at your shoes and added more misery to your face than was necessary. It was extremely childish and petty but Grover kept refusing to tell you what your father Ares was like. You had to know though. You doubted he brought you up, but you still wanted to know what he said and what he was like when he was just out and about. Grover had the opportunity to have a long talk with him and that was something you'd kill and suffer for. 

“I doubt you'd wanna do that” he mumbled, but you heard him. 

“Why'd you say that?” You asked. 

Grover refused to expound on what he meant… at first. 

Everyone knew Grover couldn't hold water so it didn't take too much prodding before he spilled his guts. 

The memory replayed in your head more than you'd like to admit, and if it were up to you, you'd no longer be a half blood. 

It made you feel pathetic. Tons of gods- no. All the gods were shitty parents. After all, they had children with mortals and left the children on Earth, knowing they'd be hunted down. Plenty of half bloods died in a gruesome painful way and at a young age. Plenty of gods never claimed their children, even if they made it to Camp Half Blood. But Ares did claim you, so you assumed that that meant he cared for you in some way. He even gifted you with a double sided sword. Surely, he must've loved you. 

You were foolish and you hated how foolish you were. You should've known he didn't care. He left you here with mortals and watched as your home life got worse and worse which was due to multiple factors including a piss poor mother and step family, the aura children of Ares give off that makes people around them experience rage and of course the random monster attacks that your family blamed you for. It was as if they thought you begged Ares to be his child. As if you'd ever do something as stupid as that. 

The rain soaked through your hood, making your hair all wet and gross. You were an idiot. You tried coming home for the school year, thinking maybe your family changed. They said they did. They tended to lie a lot though. You got into a huge fight and stormed out and you were in such a hurry that you completely forgot to grab your pouch full of drachmas and you didn't wanna step another foot in that house. So now here you were, outside with freezing cold hands that couldn't be warmed because your hoodie was soaking and you couldn't call Chiron. Perfect.

You checked your pockets once again, hoping to find something other than the lighter and fruit roll up that was there but alas, nothing magically appeared. You held the two objects in your hand and an idea formed in your mind. 

You could always set the fruit roll up on fire as an offering. You could pray to your father and hope he hears you and sends you something to help. 

No. That's incredibly stupid. Could you even light a fruit roll up on fire? It didn't matter. Not only was that the stupidest offering ever but you refused to pray to him. You'd rather sleep out in the rain then sneak inside when your family was gone to get your shit. 

You put the two objects in your pocket and let your head rest on your knees, exhaustion hitting. It wasn't even physical exhaustion. It was all mental and emotional. Like a leech was sucking on you constantly. Or a vampire. You'd prefer that. At least you'd die quicker. 

The hum of a motorcycle filled your ears, getting closer and closer. Best case scenario, it was a neighbor. Worst case scenario, it was a murderer. Honestly, you'd welcome both. 

The hum stopped and a familiar voice made you look up, “rough night”. 

It was him. Ares. God of war. Father to who knew how many. It was someone you definitely did not want to see… or so you thought. Part of you absolutely despised him now and everything to do with him and wanted to rip him apart. The other part of you though still felt an immense amount of joy when you saw him and you wanted to cling to him like a child clings to its favorite toy. If you were alone, you would've screamed. 

Then a thought crossed your mind. You didn't burn anything. You didn't make an offering. 

“You were going to” he said, seeming to read your mind. 

“Why are you here?” you managed to get out after some time of just staring at him. 

“Why do you think I'm here?” he asked and you could tell by his tone he meant it sarcastically. Like “the reason is so obvious. Stop being stupid”. 

Something about that sarcastic and irritated tone made you think back to what Grover told you. 

“Why don't you like me?” You asked and you hadn't meant to. It was supposed to stay in your head. 

He squinted his eyes at you and looked you up and down, “what?”. 

You could've let it go. You could've said nevermind, thanked him and let him help. You couldn't though. You didn't know when you'd have this chance again (the camp visited them but damn, there was a lot of you) and if you did something to make him not like you, you wanted to fix it. But that wasn't your job, right? Parents are supposed to care for their kids. 

You did that a lot. Your mind juggled opposite thoughts and it drove you insane. This was just the latest bit of juggling you'd been doing. 

“Grover said he spoke to you-”

“Who is Grover?”

“Percy's friend. The satyr”. A look of anger flashed in his eyes. You knew he remembered Percy. You didn't give him time to start yelling about the 12 year old that beat him in a fight. “Grover said that he spoke to you. I asked what it was like and he said that you said that you hate kids. Even your own. And when we visit, it's the worst day of the year. So, I was just wondering why you don't like me. Is it something I've done?”. 

Ares just rolled his eyes and sighed, “you're taking that personal?”. 

“It's kinda hard not to”. 

“I came to take you back to camp, not talk about whatever crisis you're having right now”. 

You didn't know if you were angry because of what he said, or because of his effect on others. Either way, blood started rushing to your head. “I'm not asking for a lot. I'm asking for an answer. A simple answer. Why don't you like me?”

“I don't like any of my kids”

“And that makes it better?” You asked in disbelief. Ares just stared at you, emotion void on his face. 

“Why do you do this? You keep having kids even though you hate them. Why?”. 

“It's not that simple and I don't have to explain anything to you”. You wished he'd show emotion. Any sliver of it. He was too calm, too numb. You'd prefer him yelling at you but nothing seemed to phase him. He was talking to you the same way you'd talk to a toddler. 

“It is incredibly simple. Just stop having sex with mortals. You already have Aphrodite -who is a married woman but whatever-” you rushed the last part. You didn't particularly care for the affairs between the gods. “How could your eyes possibly wander?”. 

Seeing him show a sliver of anger when you mentioned Aphrodite only filled you with more rage. That’s what angered him? That’s what got emotion out of him? “Really? That's what gets you? What about me being drenched?”

“You chose to come out here” he said through gritted teeth. If you knew Aphrodite was the key to him showing any piece of human emotion, you would've brought her up earlier. 

“I didn't choose this!” Your voice rose, “I didn't choose to be abandoned by my father and be stuck with a dysfunctional family for the rest of my life. You should be angry at that, not me mentioning Aphrodite. You should be enraged at the thought of anyone putting their hands on me and your hands should be covered in their blood! That is how it should be”. 

“Believe it or not the gods aren't too keen on the idea of killing mortals”

“But turning them into various objects and ruining their lives when it's a boring Tuesday is ok?”. His face went back to being blank and emotionless and your plan to stop talking was scrapped. You weren't even sure what you wanted. You wanted him to show something besides anger. Sadness? Regret maybe? Just something to show that maybe, just maybe, he cared deep down and regretted leaving you. 

“None of us asked for this. You all just decide to create and leave us. And you hating the people you created is… I don't know. And it's so stupid that I've spent years of my life trying to get you to be proud of me, only for it to be impossible!”. 

“I claimed you didn't I?” he defended himself, but you scoffed. 

“That's the bare minimum dad! That's like saying your kids should be grateful because you feed them!” You were full on screaming by now and you wouldn't have been surprised if a neighbor came out to see what the fuss was about. “I don't even know why I'm having this conversation with you. You probably hate being called 'dad’ and you don't care. You're never gonna get it”

“I try everyday to make you see me and you do everything in your power to not see me. To not see any of us. I would work myself to death for you. I would betray anyone close to me for you. If you asked me to burn down the world for you, I would. If you asked me to extinguish the sun, I'd find a way to because to me… to me you were everything. You are everything”. 

You couldn't tell if your face was wet from the rain, or from tears of sorrow and anger. It could've been both. Your eyes certainly stung and you hated it. You knew you had every right to be frustrated, but you hated how weak it made you feel. The children of Ares weren't supposed to cry. They were supposed to be headstrong and fight their enemies. They were supposed to be fierce warriors capable of bringing armies down to their knees. They were meant to shed blood, not tears. 

You thought for a second you saw an emotion cross his face. You couldn't pinpoint it though. It happened too fast and there was a good chance you were imagining things. 

“You can go. I'd rather sleep in the rain. I wouldn't wanna be even more of a burden” you spat with such venom you didn't know it was possible. Sure, you could have a bit of a temper but this felt different. It wasn't just anger or annoyance. There was a mix of grieving. 

It went silent for awhile, and the adrenaline you felt slowly went down. Reality started to sink in. You just yelled at a god. People who were known to cause destruction for something as small as “I think my shoes are better than yours”. 

“Are you gonna curse me? Or, I don't know, strangle me with my own shoe laces?”. Ares reached into his pocket and you looked away and closed your eyes. You expected to feel a burning sensation. That's what you assumed being cursed was like. A burning sensation and then you'd lose a limb or something. 

All you felt was something land on your lap. You looked down and saw a red pouch with gold string keeping it closed. You looked up at him, but he didn't say anything. You untied the string and opened the pouch and inside laid a pile of drachmas. 

Now he spoke, “call Chiron or whoever else works at that camp. Don't die out here”. 

“You're leaving?” You asked. You didn't know why you were disappointed. You should've been happy. After all, you just went off on him about how shit he was. 

“I have a busy schedule”. You wanted to ask if he'd be seeing the married woman he slept with or another unfortunate mortal, but you figured you pushed your luck enough today. 

“Thanks uhh…” you debated on calling him dad but instead you called him by his name. “Ares”. Then you remembered some gods could be particularly upset when you used their name. “God of war and all those other honorifics”. 

“Yeah” was all he said before he sped off, leaving you alone once again. You didn't know what he was saying “yeah” to but you didn't have enough time to ask and he probably wouldn't even answer. 

You called Chiron and asked to be brought back to camp but you didn't tell him about the conversation you had with Ares. 

You couldn't get the conversation out of your head, even after you showered and laid down to finally get some rest. 

Of course you kept thinking about the conversation and how lucky you were Ares didn't throw you into the street and run you over. 

Another thing stayed on your mind though. 

You didn't give an offering. You were told the gods would listen if you burned something that mattered, like the thickest piece of meat on your plate. You weren't sure they were actually listening and honestly you thought it was a real asshole condition. 

All you had was some stupid candy and you didn't even burn that and the minute you thought about it, he appeared like he was already watching. 

But you doubted he was watching. You doubted he listened to your prayers at all. 

You were one of his children which was something he hated. He'd claim you, possibly send a gift then be done with you. He didn't listen to you anymore. He didn't watch over you anymore. 

It was a coincidence. That's all it was. 

You were sure of it. 

At least, you tried to be. 

This is definitely ooc Ares but YA’LL KNOW I’M A LITTLE FUCKING SLOW! BE PATIENT WITH ME GOTDAMMIT😭 If you saw any errors, no you did not. I already proofread it once and I don’t feel like doing it again like I typically do. It’s 1am. I should be asleep.

[thef1diary]

Memories | D. Ricciardo

Summary: Daniel's return to RedBull is not just a return to the team, it's a return to you but it just might be too late for that.

Based on the song Memories by Conan Gray

Warnings: angst, fluff, coarse language

Word Count: 2.9k+

Note: this is a repost of a one shot from my old account. Felt like I should start with this since Danny’s back on the grid.

The chapter that seemed like it was never ending has finally ended. Daniel is free from McLaren. It wasn't just a team-oh how he wishes it was-it was worse than anything he could've possibly been through.

Or so he thought.

Signing the papers at RedBull to be a third driver wasn't something he thought he'd ever do. But the team treated him better than McLaren ever could. So he was happy. Glad to return to a place where his mental health could be at ease.

That was, until he remembered everything that happened once he left. He remembered how things ended between you and him.

‘It's been a couple of months’

You can't say that you're happy but at least you're better than you were a while ago. When you heard the news of Daniel Ricciardo returning to RedBull, it was an overload of emotions that you kept locked away.

‘That's just about enough time for me to stop crying when I look at all the pictures’

You remember the first day you met Daniel, all those years ago when you joined the team to handle the social media side of it all. You two were well acquainted from the moment you began. He was one of the very few people who personally welcomed you in the team.

Then, you sat right beside him, giving him a little special treatment as you showed him the photos you were planning on posting to the team's socials. It was of him, smiling wide as he always did, while talking to his teammate.

It's been a long time since then, so you never thought you'd be the one posting the photo of him once again clad in a RedBull team shirt.

‘Now I kinda smile, I haven't felt that in a while’

You briefly forgot about his return to the team-well truthfully, you were trying to avoid it as much as you could. You weren't upset that he was returning, you were just trying to wrap your head around the fact that you'd have to see him more often. Hearing his accented voice, laughs, jokes wasn't something you could prepare for.

You could avoid him when he was at McLaren, but you didn't need to as much. Mainly because he never came to the garage just for you.

He was in too deep with the mess at McLaren since day two, and as much as he wanted to, he couldn't make the time out too come see you. You knew parts of what happened at McLaren through Max, because Daniel would always talk to him. It hurt that he didn't come to you. You thought that you would still be the person he'd come to with his problems, not run away from.

Fortunately, you didn't see him at all since the announcement. Well, you were invited at a party where everyone was welcoming him but you didn't go because you weren't feeling well. Which was kind of a lie.

However, you didn't know that Daniel was only excited for the gathering because he wanted to see you. It was selfish, wanting to see you when he was the one who ended things, but if he wasn't selfish now, then he'd lose everything he needed.

Maybe he already did but he didn't want to accept it.

Once he set his mind on something, he would do anything to complete it. And now, he wanted to see you.

‘It's late, I hear the door

Bell ringing, and it's pouring’

You should be asleep by now, it's midnight and you have an early day tomorrow. But you couldn't. You want to believe that it's because you slept in today, but you know deep down that it's not.

It's hard to submit to the silence of the night when you don't want to be lonely. Fighting that thought, you step out in the kitchen to fill a glass of water. But that is long forgotten when you hear a knock on the door. You want to believe that it's just the sound of rain tapping against the wooden door.

You stood there, frozen as you watched the door, knowing that someone was standing on the other side. And you knew who it was, just didn't want to accept it yet.

Then, the doorbell rang, making you flinch as the sound was quite loud compared to the soft patter of the rain against the glass. Taking a deep breath, you decided to feel a bit of pity on the man, knowing him well enough that he didn't bring an umbrella with him.

‘I open up that door, see your brown eyes at the entrance’

As expected, all he had on was a hood that was now soaking wet. His curls laid flat on his forehead, matted due to the rain.

His eyes no longer had the brightness in them that they once did. You felt bad, but didn't say anything.

Daniel felt relief as soon as he saw you. His arms were itching to wrap around you. "Hi" he said, but his voice was rough, as if he didn't say a single word in a long time. Well, he didn't, to you.

You didn't respond. You might've been friends and something more before, but right now you did not want to engage in a normal conversation with him. Nothing in between you two was normal.

‘You just wanna talk, and I can't turn away a wet dog’

You gave in after he asked to come inside a few times. The first few times you denied, but he didn't let up. The only reason you let him in was because it was raining outside, and you didn't want him to get sick.

God, he was so clingy when sick. He would avoid you when he starts to notice that he wasn't feeling the best. But the calls and messages wouldn't stop, in fact, it would increase. Regular messages became phone calls, then video calls because he claimed that he couldn't go a day without seeing your face.

Then, when you would show up with some essentials to help him feel better-because all what he would do is try to sleep it off which never worked-he wouldn't like it at first. You would stand at the door, while he would try to hide the smile growing on his face knowing that you want to take care of him. But maybe you shouldn't have, because not only did you get sick, but you began getting used to being around him.

‘But please, don't ruin this for me

Please, don't make it harder than it already is’

You turned around but his hand instantly caught yours, turning you back around to face him, pulling you towards him. Your other hand landed on his chest to stop you from being fully pressed against him.

You looked up and just for a moment you got lost in his eyes. Being so close felt familiar yet so strange. The memories of all the times you were this close played in your mind like a movie, but that's all it was, memories.

"I'm sorry" he spoke, and perhaps it was the wrong words to start with because you were brought back to the present and immediately moved away from him.

‘I'm trying to get over this

I wish that you would stay in my memories’

"No" you whispered, quiet enough that he didn't hear the first time. "Don't say that" you continued, louder this time.

Tears were stinging your eyes, but you put in all the effort to hold them back. You didn't want to be weak in front of him. You couldn't, not anymore.

He stepped closer to you again, placing his hands on your cheeks, "but it's true. I miss you"

You brought your hands up to his, making him think you're giving in but you tore his hands away from your face. Not wanting his touch.

‘But you show up today just to ruin things’

"How can you miss me if you're the one who walked away?" You asked, not expecting a response so you walked further into your house.

You knew he wouldn't leave, which meant that you could do one of two things; try to sleep while he's in your house, or stay awake and convince him to leave.

You knew you wouldn't be able to sleep, so you decided on the second option. Walking to the kitchen, you took out two bottles of a stronger form of alcohol.

He followed you inside, looking around at the house he's seen plenty of times, still the same. He muttered a "thanks" when you passed him the bottle with little expression on your face.

You sat on the couch while he stood there, watching you. He was in a familiar place, with a familiar person, but it felt so strange. And this was all because of him.

‘I wanna put you in the past 'cause I'm traumatized

But you're not letting me do that 'cause tonight, you're all drunk in my kitchen, curled in a fetal position’

"Why weren't you at the party?" He asked, a simple question that held a stronger meaning behind. "Wasn't feeling well" you simply replied but you knew that he knew it was a lie.

You took a swig of the alcohol, wanting some liquid courage to say what you've been planning to for all this time. "You know, you don't have to come here just because you're joining the team again."

"That's what you think I'm here for?" He asked, incredulously. You looked up at him but quickly broke the eye contact because it became too overbearing, "why else?"

He sat on the couch in front of you, "there used to be a time where you didn't question me even if I came this late"

You scoffed, "why are you acting like I'm the one who ended things when you're the one who woke up one day and decided to act like we were strangers?"

‘Too busy playing the victim to be listening to me when I say 'I wish that you would stay in my memories'

"I wish I didn't" he hung his head low. It was quiet for a few moments but the silence was deafening. "Yeah, I wish you didn't."

‘In my memories, stay in my memories’

You looked around everywhere to avoid his eyes, but his were fixated on you. He still looked at you with that loving emotion, but the only difference was that his eyes also held pain in them. His bubble was bursting, and he didn't know what to do.

Standing up, you placed the empty bottle on the counter and walked towards your room. As expected, he followed.

"You know what, I'm actually glad that you're here. It'll save me a trip." You spoke as you walked to your closet, sorting through the clothes that belonged to him.

Your actions were rough, probably because of the alcohol. You never had the chance to get rid of his stuff. His stupidly expensive clothes that always smelt like him.

One by one, you threw his clothes at him in frustration. He didn't budge, letting his clothes fall to the floor as he watched you. Taking out the last hoodie you had of his, you remembered when he gave it to you.

It was raining, quite like tonight, but the circumstance was very different. That night, you two were completely sober, but drunk off of each other's presence. Walking to his home, both of you were soaking wet.

Daniel gave you a towel, telling you to go take a warm shower while he laid out his clothes for you. He was very tempted to join you, but he chose not to.

His clothes smelt like him, and you were instantly comforted. But now, that scent overwhelmed you, reminded you of what you were and what you could've been.

Throwing that last piece of clothing at him from a closer distance, you began hitting your fists against his chest. "You left me Dan. You fucking left me. God we were doing so well, I was so happy with you. But no, you had to pull some shitty move and ruin it all."

He let you express your frustration until you started crying. Tears were streaming down your cheeks, and he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you against him. "I know, baby, I'm sorry"

‘Now I can't say, 'goodbye' if you'll stay here the whole night you see, it's hard to find an end to something that you keep beginning’

He sighed in relief when he felt your arms tightly wrap around his body. He knew he had a lot to work for; your trust, your love, and you. But he would do it. All for you.

‘Over and over again, I promise that the ending always stays the same’

His relief was very brief, because you parted away from him. Not completely because you were still in his grasp, but you were still stiff, letting him know that you were still on the edge.

"I promise I'll fix everything" he spoke, wiping your tears. You began shaking your head, "you can't"

"Give me a chance, my love, yes we can"

‘So there's no good reason in make-believing’

"You're holding on to a dream, Daniel, a memory. I'm trying my best to move on, so please just let me" you pleaded, moving away from him what felt like the millionth time.

‘That we could ever exist again, I can't be your friend, can't be your lover’

"I don't want us to be a memory, that would kill me" he closed his eyes, not wanting to believe that there would be a future without you. "I don't want you to move on, I know you have a little bit of love for me in your heart."

‘Can't be the reason we hold back each other from falling in love with someone other than me’

"Call me selfish but I don't want to see you with someone else." He continued while you were at a loss for words. Daniel held your hands, wanting something, someone-you-to ground him. He longed for your presence, your warmth.

You two stood there in silence, once again. Your heartbeat was pounding in your ears.

Moving your hands out of his grasp, he hung his head low again, thinking that he lost you forever. Instead of walking away like he expected you to, you lifted his head by placing your fingers underneath his chin.

You realized that he was crying. No matter how bad things got, you've never once seen him cry. But that was because he was always happy around you. He never once felt like he did now in front of you.

Even now, his tears weren't because of you, it was because he believe that he failed. He failed because his love wasn't enough for you.

‘Since you came, I'll let you stay’

"You never give up, do you?" You asked, still sniffling. "For you, never"

"You're not going to leave me again right?" As soon as you got the words out, he began shaking his head, "not until I die"

You placed your finger on his lips, not wanting to hear such absurd thoughts, "don't you dare think about dying"

"You can't live without a heart, and the thing is, you own mine" he stated like it was a true fact. To him, you always owned his heart.

"You own mine too, always did, always will" those words made him realize that you didn't want him to leave.

He smiled, through the tears that you wiped away. "Does that mean-" he started but cut himself off when you nodded. "I still hate you for leaving me"

He hugged you, so tightly that it was almost suffocating. But, his love was all you needed to stay alive.

When he parted away from you, he still held on to you, thinking that if he let go, you'll fade away.

"I love you so, so, so much" he expressed, new tears were stinging his eyes. But it was tears of relief.

He didn't know what he'd do if you turned him down. He didn't want to think about it anymore.

"I love you" you smiled for the first time that night, resting your arms around his shoulders.

"Can I kiss you?" He asked, like a school boy asking his crush for the first time ever.

You nodded, and he didn't waste a single second before claiming your lips in a slow, loving kiss. He might've asked like a young school boy but his kiss was nothing like it.

Parting away, you commented on the fact that his clothes were still very much wet, and now yours too because he was still embracing you.

"Go take a shower, or you'll get sick" you instructed. He hesitated at first, and you noticed it. "I'm not going anywhere"

"Promise?"

"I promise"

He pressed another short kiss to your lips before walking towards the bathroom. And you were on your way, making some soup because you knew that he would surely be sick.

And for the first time in a long time, you knew that everything would be alright. Because he was with you.

Your lover, your everything, your Danny.

[jolalibrary]

hi! Requesting something like these “On a whim, pulling your lover into an alley and pressing your lips firmly against theirs, getting lost in each other's touch while the streets bustle outside. “If we get caught kissing in a small, dark, kind of shady alleyway, it's on you."” For price please and thank you! I personally would love to feel this big man push me against a wall haha

#mmvalentinesevent

small, dark and kind of shady

john price x f!reader

It’s sudden. One minute the two of you are walking along the street.

Pretending, hand on his forearm, fingers dancing up and down a vein as the sun kisses your face.

The next you’re in an alleyway. The cool air cooling your skin, spine against firm brick, as the building casts you both in shadows.

His hand, large and calloused, captures your cheek. Pulling your eyes to him, keeping you exactly where he wants you. Feeling his knee between yours.

Did y’need to wear a dress? You said blend in—like a tourist. I am dressed like a tourist, John.

Recon. That's what he had said. The two of you to roam some cobbled European streets, take photos, and pretend to be a couple.

The latter being the easiest part of the whole thing.

Naturally, you weren't sure what recon needed to be collected on your face. Not when his fingers had wrapped around your elbow or when he had pulled you into the alleyway.

Less so now as he studies you, letting his eyes draw across every single part of your face. His eyes were almost hidden by the shadows, thankful his cap is backwards—not that you’d never find his eyes.

You always find them. Across rooms, across streets. A silent conversation is always able to be had through them.

Not that you care. The two of you rarely get a chance to do this, to watch, observe and admire. So many eyes on you both—the captain and his sergeant.

You almost speak, feeling yourself need to. But, you don’t want to shatter the moment. Snap whatever this is and whatever it could become.

Instead, you allow the cars driving over cobble and stone to disturb the peace at the other end of the alleyway. The entrance closest to you both has people peppering the air with languages you only partially understand.

But, no one notices the two of you.

The two people who should know better, but are acting like teenagers. Even with the clouds heavy above the two of you, threatening to spill and rain down on your plans for the day.

Making the task harder. Making the trip last longer. Again, you didn’t care much. The fake story of being a couple in Europe allowed you both to benefit from it. Allow you to lie with him undisturbed.

Meaning now, the lines are blurred. Allowing you to be lost in him, and he in you.

It makes you not want to go home. To return to base and go back to pretending.

You pull him closer by his jacket. The once-tan but now-a-worn-brown one. The one he’d put over your shoulders months ago, not saying a word as he did, side-eyeing you as you buried your cheeks against the lapels. The ones which you suspect had once been soft, but now were bobbled and overwashed.

His chin tilts, staring into your eyes like you have the answers to all his questions.

"If we get caught kissing in a small, dark, and kind of shady alleyway, it's on you, Captain."

"Won't get caught, love."

"Overconfidence, I like it."

He smirks, his low laugh brushing over your skin. The scent of his last cigar flowed in the little space between the two of you. One you wish would attach itself to your clothes, your skin, your bedsheets.

Merging and mingling with the scent he leaves on your skin. When his hand hooks your leg over his hips and calls you pretty, and good, and a bunch of other praises that make your cheeks and chest burn.

"You going to kiss me then, John?"

He strokes his thumb across your cheek, inhaling deeply, his eyes staring into yours. "Y’always in a rush."

“Have you seen yourself?”

His thumb brushes your cheek. “Enough.”

You grin, light and easily. One he pulls from you without trying—has done since this all began.

Licking your lips, you tilt your head. "If I was pissin' around with Soap, you'd rip me a new arsehole."

He chuckles, low and deep. The corners of his mouth twitch, the wired hair catching the limited light. His other hand slid under the hem of your dress, palm grasping your upper thigh.

"You're not wrong."

"Never am, am I, John?"

He shakes his head. "No, love."

Sighing, you roll your hips against his. Watching his throat, seeing how he swallows.

He tries to hide it. He fails at it like he did when he denied he didn’t want to fuck you that first time. The internal war he had with himself almost allowed you to walk out the door.

You’re thankful he lost to his better judgement. Even more glad that he’s changed his judgement, realising how worth it you are.

He presses his forehead against yours, seeing how his eyes have darkened—just enough to know that his original thoughts of a quick makeout were turning into something longer, something which would have you likely walking funny.

The loud sound of a bang is followed by a car horn blaring. But, neither of you pulls your gaze from the other. Not that he’d let you. His hand still holding your cheek in place.

Even if your pulse quickens—even if he feels it—your hand almost flexes to reach for something. Something you don’t even have on you—

“It’s alright, love. I’m here.”

“I know,” you whisper, hooking your finger inside the waistband of his jeans.

Stroking your touch lightly against his skin, hearing the noticeable inhale.

“That’s the problem.”

“I’m the problem, hmm?”

“Well, I’m not the one in charge, distracting the impressionable sergeant who has to collect intel…”

He runs his tongue over the front of his teeth. The first indication you’re going to be warned, your thighs squeezing around his knee at the thought.

“Already got enough intel, love.”

“Oh? So, we’re what? Seeing the sights?”

“I am.”

Your skin warms. Eyes flicking down, never sure what to do with his praise, with his flattering words.

“Look at me.”

You do. You’d do anything he asked. “Still the problem?”

You nod lightly, watching him smirk. “If you kissed me, I’d reconsider though.”

He licks his lips, mumbling a fair, and then he crashes his mouth to yours.

Chapped lips against yours, filling you with warmth similar to the European sun on your skin. You whimper, the sound stolen by his tongue and his mouth.

Mostly, you let yourself feel how his hand keeps you close—so close, there's no space left. His lips burn words into you he hasn’t yet said. Your hand tugging his hips flush against yours. Wanting him. Needing him.

Even if you had him this morning. Even if you'd spent hours, when you should have been sleeping, getting your fill of him.

The two of you are like teenagers when the parents are away. Two people who are not scared of being caught.

Nothing like a captain and his sergeant.

Not that you care at all.

[stiles-o-dylan24]

It's Always Been You Bonus Scene 1 - Wolfsbane Hallucination

Author: @stiles-o-dylan24 Pairing: Stiles x Addy McCall Word Count: 3.1k Requested: Can you maybe write something about Addy telling Stiles what she saw during the hallucinations in season 2 at Lydia's party and having a Staddy fluffy moment? I don't remember but I think after that moment it never brought up again and kinda always wanted to see how Stiles would react, if it's okay for you of course! And obv if you want to write it take your time, don't rush it! 💕 A/N: Here you go sweets, it's been forever and a day but hopefully you're still around and you enjoy this! I'm putting this as taking place at the end of season 4 so you have an idea of the timeline of everything! Any other deleted/bonus scenes you guys want please don't hesitate to send them in bc I'm fully on my IABY bullshit while I edit the whole series to be ready for binding. Love you all!🩵 IABY PLAYLIST || <<PREV || MASTERLIST  ||  NEXT>>  ||

Another day another Lydia birthday party is in full swing– which is already a better turnout than the impromptu lake house party a couple of months ago.

That night we found the deadpool list and now we’re back from Mexico and Lydia promised a gathering to make us celebrate the fact that we’re all alive.

Stiles and I are in the backyard and he’s leaning back against one of the beams attached to the overhead pergola while I lean my back against his chest. He’s got his arms wrapped around my shoulders and my hands are gently gripping onto his forearms. 

The party is more so taking place inside since it was raining earlier– which is how Stiles got me to come outside with him. I’ve got the smell of rain, the pergola fairy lights and best of all my Stiles… so I’m pretty happy right now. 

Stiles is silent though and I could think he was just enjoying the quiet with me while the thumping bass of the party sounds in the house behind us, if it weren’t for the noise he just made. The noise is one he makes when he’s thinking about something that’s bothering him and once that noise is followed by him kissing my temple and squeezing his arms around me a little more… I know it’s something about me.

I move my thumbs against his forearms a little, leaning my head back against his shoulder as I ask him “What are you thinking about?”

“Hmm? Oh, nothing” Stiles replies too quickly and I throw him a look “Come on, at least lie better than that”

“I can’t lie to you” Stiles chuckles softly and I nod once, turning in his arms to face him while I smile brightly at him “I know.” I set my hands on his chest and slowly slide them up to wrap my arms behind his neck, asking him “So then tell me what’s on your mind”

Stiles makes a noise and takes a deep breath, slowly releasing it as he sets his hands on my hips and pulls me a little closer “Do yo– do you remember Lydia’s birthday party?”

“This one?” I laugh softly and he throws me a look “Obviously you remember this one or we have bigger problems right now concerning your memory, cutie.”

I snort and smile at him “Alright so not this one– which leaves last year because we’ve only been to two of her parties”

“Right,” he clears his throat, nodding his head ever so slightly and connecting his eyes with mine “So last year when we were all kinda…” he trails off and I nod once, my stomach dropping as I stand up a little more “Oh… umm yeah, the night of the wolfsbane” I smile softly at him, instantly hit with what I saw and really hoping he doesn't ask me about it. 

“The hallucinations, yeah” Stiles clarifies and I nod slowly, trying to smile like it’s no big deal while also imploring “What’s making you think about that night?”

Stiles doesn’t answer right away, just moves his thumbs against my sides as he moves his eyes between mine. He licks his lips quickly and tilts his head a little to the side “Well I was just thinking back… and I– well you never said what you saw that night… when I asked you what you hallucinated, you told me it didn’t matter, remember?”

“Because it didn’t” I say gently, smiling to soften the blow of my deflection, however, he just narrows his eyes in thought at me “Right but it does matter. What we all saw was something that we were deep down afraid of actually happening or being true so I’m just curious I guess… why do you say it doesn’t matter?”

“Sty, come on” I breathe out, looking around the backyard for an escape plan. I feel him keep his hold on me so I don’t step away from him as he asks me in a soft whisper “Was it your dad? I mean from how he was when we were kids?”

I look back at him, breathing in deeply and slowly releasing it as I barely shake my head and answer him softly, “No, it wasn’t about him.”

“Ok then what was it?” he questions gently, looking at me with so much love in his eyes. I can tell how much this means to him but I can’t shake the nerves and embarrassment of actually telling him what happened in my mind. I mean he saw his dad blaming him for his mom’s death and Scott saw Jacksanima hooking up with Allison on the stairs and I what? Had a phenomenal kiss and then ultimate whiplash as he said it would never be right? No way I can share that with the person I’m now dating. 

“Why are you remembering that night in particular right now?” I ask and he shrugs, looking around the backyard “We were standing basically right here with Scott that night. You looked…” he trails off, shaking his head and breathing out a soft huff before he connects his eyes with mine “Fuck, Adds, you looked gorgeous in that maroon lace dress and your black leather jacket.”

“You remember what I was wearing?” I say softly, my heart doing that little flutter thing that only Stiles can make happen and he makes a noise “Uh yeah I remember with vivid clarity the moment I walked into your house and I saw you. You made me stop breathing and I’m pretty sure I passed out because I think Scott hit my shoulder and said something but I couldn’t hear him and next thing I knew I was driving us to the party.” 

I chuckle softly, knowing my eyes are sparkling as I look up at him and he continues “I mean you always look amazing, Adds– but something about you looking all sexy badass that night…” he trails off, breathing in deeply as his fingers dig into my sides a little more and he pulls me against him “Yeah, I almost blurted out that I was in love with you.”

“You did not” I chuckle softly and he makes a face like I could not be more wrong, “Uh yeah I did, ask Scott– the way he looked at me was the only thing that made me not because it wasn’t the right time. I also wasn’t aware he knew at the time but either way we were drinking and that wouldn’t have been the right time– right?”

“No it wouldn’t have been the right time” I agree with him, scrunching my nose up a little as I continue “Especially since you’re right we were drinking and I fully thought you were going to say Lydia’s name and I drank even more because I couldn’t handle hearing your declaration of love about her again at that moment.”

Stiles snorts and looks up to the covered lighted up pergola above us, breathing out “Of course you thought that” he shakes his head and looks at me again “So you were drinking because of me being a dumbass–” 

“No, I was drinking because Lydia was being mind controlled by Peter and was sweetly forcing us all to drink spiked wolfsbane punch” I interrupt and he narrows his eyes at me “That may be why you took the first drink but I was the reason you drank more” I make a noise to argue, however, he just grips onto me a little more and doesn’t let me say another word as he rushes out “Which means you hallucinated what you did because of me which means you should tell me what you saw that night.”

“Why is this so important to you right now?” I ask, trying not to be defensive but I can’t help it when I’m just flooded with the memories of that night. “I mean,” I clear my throat and soften my voice, because even through the embarrassment taking hold on me I do know he’s just being his amazingly sweet self, “Why is it all of a sudden bothering you enough to want to know now?”

“It’s always bothered me, Adds,” he answers without missing a beat, his eyes so sincere I melt against him a little more while he continues “I’ve always wanted to know– since it happened to you.” His thumbs brush against my sides again, succeeding in lifting up my shirt so he’s touching my skin “The look on your face that night when I found you again has been burned in my brain. All I wanted to do was hug you and comfort you but you wouldn’t let me– I mean, you wouldn’t even look at me. Then fucking Matt almost drowned and we figured out he was the– you know, then the night and following days got crazy but that didn’t change the fact that I wanted to be there for you. Now I feel like I'm allowed to be there for you and comfort you even when you tell me nothing is bothering you– I’m allowed to be there for you in ways I wasn’t before and dammit woman, I want you to just let me.”

I chuckle and kiss him softly, “Okay” I murmur against his lips and he repeats “Okay? Like okay okay?”

I nod and pull back just enough to narrow my eyes playfully at him “Yes– okay as in I’ll tell you but after I do you have to drop it because half the reason I didn’t want to say anything was because I was embarrassed”

“Embarrassed?” Stiles scrunches his face up adorably and I throw him a look “Yes… now promise.”

“I promise after you tell me I will drop it” he repeats and I nod once “Thank you.”

Stiles kisses me quickly and says “Now tell me what you saw and were embarrassed about” he smiles wide “Please”

“Jesus you’re persistent” I grumble and he winks, his hands gripping onto me a little more “It’s why you love me”

I playfully glare at him, murmuring quietly “Yeah, yeah, yeah” and he gets impatient “Come on, tell me already”

“Oh for fucks sake” I throw him a look, and he smiles even wider at me. I chew on the inside of my cheek for a few seconds, taking a deep breath to try to calm my nerves before I rip off the bandaid and rush out quickly “I hallucinated that you kissed me.”

Stiles’ brows raise instantly with my words “I kissed you–” he licks his lips quickly “You hallucinated that I kissed you?” he repeats, a bright cocky smile starting to come over his features and I grimace since I have to tell him the next part “Well that’s not all so don’t get too cocky.”

“Oh my god was it a bad kiss?” he draws his brows in on his own embarrassed grimace “It was wasn’t it? Is that why you waited so long to actually kiss me?”

“Nope– it was a good” I release a shaky breath “A really good kiss actually.”

“Oh really?” he says, cocky smile back on his face and I narrow my eyes at him “Stop it”

“Sorry” he murmurs, half smiling as pulls me more against his chest “Tell me how it played out then.”

I look up at him, seeing the sincerity in his eyes and I breathe out nervously, shaking my head as I look away and focus on his chest “Well I was walking through the living room and you stalked towards me through the crowd of people with these deliberate I’d burn the world down for you steps until you set your hands on my hips and backed me against the wall… then you kissed me” I breathe in deeply, not really wanting to keep going “But then you…” I trail off quietly and Stiles’ voice is softer, more gentle as he asks even more quietly “Then what happened?” 

I squeeze my eyes closed and grimace “Just as quickly as you kissed me you stopped and when I opened my eyes, you were looking at me but the look on your face… it was like you–” I clear my throat, my voice barely above a whisper as I tell him “It was like you just made the biggest mistake of your life”

“Adds–” he tries but I shake my head and look at him sadly before I drop my eyes again and look at my hands on his chest “Then you said ‘You’re not her and that this isn’t right’ you dropped your hands from my sides and you stepped back throwing in the next gut punch of ‘This will never be right’ before you walked into the crowd of people in front of us. I went to follow you but then it was like I was thrown back into this reality and the music was suddenly blaring again and everyone was dancing not even paying attention to me.”

It’s silent after I finish telling him what happened and I want to disappear with explaining everything that I still unfortunately remember. Stiles takes a few more silent seconds before he murmurs “Hey” and I make a little noise to acknowledge him and he chuckles softly “Come on baby, show me your blues”

The corners of my mouth lift a little as I silently curse him for somehow always getting me to listen to him and I slowly look up at him. When my eyes connect with his I don’t see anything but reassurance and love looking right back at me “You do realize that you never have to worry about what was said being true right? You have and will always be the only her in my mind– there will never be anyone else”

I smile softly with his words, nodding a little and he squeezes me to him a little more “You could have told me what happened that night”

Shaking my head I scoff lightheartedly “Sty, come on there’s absolutely no way I could have told you”

“Yes you could have!” He insists, chuckling a little “Then I could have told you that you were crazy–”

I snort and level him with a look “Yes brilliant idea to tell the girl who just hallucinated her first kiss with the guy she’s in love with that she’s crazy.”

“Okay we all were hallucinating that night” he tries to reassure me and I narrow my eyes thoughtfully at him “Somehow that doesn’t make me feel better”

Stiles laughs softly, clearing his face of any humor as he gets a little more serious “Adds, if you told me that night what happened I would have told you right then that I was in love with you and only you”

I make a noise and ramble lightly “Well I wouldn’t have ever explained what happened that night because I thought you were in love with Lydia, so that just screams awkward trying to have you comfort me and my feelings when you love someone else but don’t want to hurt me and those feelings that just got dumped on you.”

He just blinks a few times and groans frustratedly, resting his forehead against mine “I can’t believe I was so stupid as to ever say something in your vicinity that would ever make you think you weren’t the only girl for me.”

I chuckle and move my nose along his “Yes, well… even Sherlock has his off days” I say gently and he connects his eyes with mine, breathing out a soft little chuckle.

He moves his eyes between mine before he lifts his head off mine and smiles like he just got a great idea “C’mere” he mumbles, reaching up and grabbing one of my hands in his before he starts walking me across the patio “Where are we going?” I ask, quickly moving my feet to keep up with him.

“Just follow me, babe” he says over his shoulder, keeping his hand tightly around mine as we walk into the living room. I flinch back a little from the loud music and talking noise, staying right behind him as he guides us through the crowd. 

He walks past everyone that’s standing around talking and dancing on and near the staircase before he leads us over to Lydia’s dad’s old office. Figuring Lydia would have locked these doors I draw my brows together curiously as he opens one of the french doors and leads us inside.

I walk further into the office towards the bookcase on the far wall and I turn around to look at him as he closes and locks the door. I raise a brow and look from the lock and up to connect my gaze with his “What exactly are we doing in here?”

Stiles just keeps his gaze locked on mine as he murmurs simply “This” and recreates the I’d burn the world down for you steps I told him about and quickly stalks towards me. I make a little noise when he sets his hands on my hips and presses me back against the bookshelf, smiling in his adorably sexy way before he kisses me.

Yeah I may have thought the hallucination was a good kiss but I didn’t know any better because kissing the real thing is unlike anything I could have imagined. I set my hands on his sides, feeling him lift one hand to cradle the side of my face in his palm as he pulls me impossibly closer and moves his lips against mine. 

I can’t even help the whimper that I make as I kiss him back, my hands gripping his shirt at his sides. Stiles responds with his own soft moan at my response and uses his hand to gently tilt my head and deepen the kiss. 

He pulls back just enough to rest his forehead on mine, gazing into my eyes as he moves his thumb against my cheek “Nothing has or will ever feel as right as this does, Adds. You are it for me and I will spend the rest of my life showing you how true that is so you will never question it, okay?”

“Yup” I sigh dreamily, wrapping my arms around his middle and licking my lips quickly as I smile softly up at him “I understand you loud and clear.”

He chuckles, his eyes dropping to my lips as he licks his own and murmurs “Good” before he gives me another earth shattering kiss.

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A/N: Thanks so much for reading! Always love to hear your lovely people’s thoughts & if you’re not comfortable with that a like/reblog gives me just as much life! Please let know what you thought I'm so sorry to any and everyone who would not wished to be tagged anymore. Wasn't really sure how to tag this so just figured the last like I had for IABY and the IABY movie coming up would be ok. But please let me know if you would prefer to not be tagged in any IABY stuff in the future!

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Posted 14 May 2024

[italoniponic]

Long Live the Brother | Kingscholar brothers

Synopsis: Since Cheka was born, Falena became more aware of the fact that he wouldn’t live forever. Whenever he falls asleep in his most stressful days, he has this strange nightmare about a gorge and a stampede. As years pass by, the dream has gained more details to its story. Cheka is in danger and Leona is close to Falena, but he can’t help him — because he doesn’t want to.

Falena needs to do something about this premonition. As little as it seems to be.

kingscholar brothers / angst with hopeful ending / Lion King references / minor tamashina mina setting / ft. mention of ocs / 4,5k words / Masterlist

Notes: It’s been a while since I last talked about doing this fic but it’s finally here, folks. *sighs in tiredness* well, I asked people to vote for a type of ending so it took me a long time to write it all and come to a conclusion that felt… proper. Like, there’s room for good things to come, certainly. Hope you enjoy it!

Long Live the Brother

Falena knows he won’t live forever. It seems kind of obvious, especially when it comes to Afterglow Savannah’s oldest teaching: “we are part of the cycle of life.” It’s part of the birth-to-death cycle. Helping others in life and giving life to nature itself when one dies. To become grass, to be a spirit in the stars.

Falena thought about this a lot, especially on some extraordinary occasions in his life: the birth of Leona, the strong illness of their father and, even more strongly, on the birth of Cheka.

The kingdom’s people — among servants, guards and subjects — got used to the charismatic image of Falena. To them, the then-young king was brave and imposing, his strong smile shining brighter than the sunlight on the golden savannah. And it wasn’t a lie at all.

But there were things that troubled Falena’s mind many times. Shadows that have haunted him since the crown was placed on his head.

He was so young at the time and the books he had read during his education weren’t enough to guide his journey in the real world, where brilliant theories could fail at the first unpredictable element of nature. His father was also too debilitated to give any advice. Sometimes he barely recognized where he was in his own room.

Falena could only thank Heavens for having Maisha by his side, she being his most precious support all these years.

The couple had ruled together since they got married. They hit and missed all the obstacles in life together. Maisha was the only confidant that Falena could truly let go of his saddest thoughts and worries. She didn’t demand from him any perfection of his royalty. Maisha would let him just talk to her and it was those moments that made him happiest.

That had been their dynamic since they met at a diplomatic ball a long time ago. The then-prince purposely hid himself from Kifaji just to show the stars to the princess who befriended him.

And it was a mutual, strong feeling. Maisha wouldn’t trade Falena for anyone. Her love was true, overcoming any circumstances and problems they encountered along the way. Proof of this was the birth of Cheka. 

It was an unforgettable day. The kingdom celebrated it as if it were the sunrise after a long period of darkness, the rain after a long period of drought. Both of them were so happy with their little cub. Falena thought of Cheka as the light in his difficult life as king. Unfortunately, with the King’s health worsening, Falena found himself again thinking about life and death.

The shadows gained strength and that’s when the nightmares began.

It wasn’t constant dreams. They appeared mainly after a long and stressful day. When everything seemed about to fall apart, when the difficulties of the kingdom weighed on Falena’s shoulders.

It started simply with him lost in a crowd. People were running over each other, everyone was confused and frightened — and he was being slaughtered by all of them, trampled underfoot.

Then it switched to something else. Falena heard Cheka’s screams and desperately ran to save him. Sometimes he managed to get the little boy to a safe place on the rocks. Other times, they didn’t survive. But in either scenario, Falena would lose his life.

No matter what he did or how hard he tried, everything or only his life slipped through his hands. His son’s screams would turn to tears as Falena collapsed into his own unconscious sleep. It was tortuous. He wanted to answer his little one, to say that everything would be fine — but in what voice? With what kind of force?

As time passed, a new character came to his dreams: Leona. 

He almost always stood aside, just watching the scene unfold in front of him. But sometimes it was he who first warned him of the danger that Cheka was in, and with this, Falena ended up finding himself in the midst of that frightened crowd.

Whenever he woke up from these nightmares, Falena usually took a deep breath and tried to comfort himself in the fact that if something happened to him, Leona could take care of Cheka and Maisha in his place. Without a doubt, he would leave the kingdom safely in the hands of his younger brother. 

There was no other person Falena wouldn’t trust with his own life and that of the people he loved most.

Then, at a certain point, that nightmare repeated itself.

Falena had managed to lead Cheka to the rocks, away from the tumultuous crowd where he could be safer. But he himself fell among the stampede again. In a last effort, Falena jumped up and clung to a high rock.

Relief washed over his face when he saw Leona on top of that very stone, safe enough to pull him away from danger.

“Leona...! Brother! Help me!,” Falena pleaded.

But Leona only gave a contemptuous smile in response. With all the calmness in the world, he crouched down and dug his nails into the knuckles of Falena’s hands, making him scream in pain. 

  “Long live the king,” then Leona gave a long and dangerous smile like he had never given before, looking deep into his older brother’s eyes.

Falena felt afraid of the shade of green in Leona’s eyes. Green in the shade of poison, pure burning sulfur. He wasn’t his brother. Leona wasn’t like that! In front of him was just the picture others painted of him.

Falena heard so many times from the servants that this was who his brother was going to become. A corrupt, envious boy who would bring drought and disgrace to the kingdom. It couldn’t be! Leona wasn’t like that. He would never hurt Cheka, nor anyone. 

Or would he? 

Suddenly the pain in his hands had stopped. The distance between them increased. Was Falena falling? Leona no longer held him. He was watching his fall with a dark, victorious look. A scream was heard in the distance. Falena has never heard the word “no” pronounced so painfully before.

He wasn’t sure if it was coming out of his own mouth because the voice he was hearing was from Cheka. But Falena kept falling until he finally hit the ground and thousands of feet passed over him. The pain of being trampled on was nothing compared to his heart being shattered inside.

Falena didn’t want the crown if it meant leaving his son and wife alone. He never wanted to. 

Before he knew it, he had already left his brother once. He didn’t want to leave him again. 

His voice grew faint before the noise of the stampede above him. Both when he was young and when observing his kingdom, it was the only time when the people’s voice surpassed his light. What began with the servants losing patience with the young second prince, turned into real complaints and fear with his magic.

Falena didn’t know what to say to them. His brother was young, that was all. But as Leona seemed to worsen in behavior, Falena lost the basis to defend him. And with the accumulation of royal responsibilities, he lost sense of time.

One day, Leona was already a full-fledged teenager who didn’t have the slightest motivation to do anything. The chess that Falena taught him with great joy became a game that his brother played alone — because he had no one by his side and no one wanted to be near him. Leona acted as if he were a stranger in the palace, a being who didn’t belong there.

But he was part of the cycle, he was a vital member of the family. Falena still held that truth in his heart. At the end of the day, he didn’t have more time to bring him back? Was their bond already broken beyond repair?

What would be left of all this would be for Leona to let him fall over the abyss of death, more than content to see the color of his eyes shine for one last time? 

“Dad!”

Then Falena woke up. He was alive after all. His heart was pounding hard enough to be sure of it. The sun shone brighter than ever through the office window. He should have fallen asleep unintentionally. His rest time has been getting worse lately. Everywhere he went he had a problem to solve, and if he ever stopped to rest, he felt guilty for it.

But there was Cheka holding his arm tightly, jumping endlessly with excitement. His eyes let out sparks of joy. It was almost nostalgic — at one point, in a room full of books, another boy called his brother to take a break from his studies and talk to him a little bit.

“Dad! Uncle Leona arrived with friends!,” the little prince announced happily. “Can Naru and I play with them? Can we?”

Seeing Cheka smiling gave some cheer to Falena’s poor suffering heart, though the mention of his brother couldn’t have come at a worse time.

“Go with Monti and Zakki to talk to your uncle. I... I’m going soon.” 

“Okay!”

“Ah! Cheka!”

The boy stopped in his tracks when his father called his name, his orange hair with yellow edges swirling like rays of midday sun. He was the perfect blend of his parents, a gift from Heavens to them. Falena took him in his lap and kissed his forehead.

“I love you, son. Be careful, okay?,” he asked. His voice was a little hoarse.

“I love you too, dad!,” Cheka kissed his father’s cheek. “And don't worry! I’ll be with uncle Leona.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of...”

Maisha entered at the right moment when Cheka ran out of the office. She had overheard part of the conversation. And her worry only worsened when she saw her husband’s forlorn countenance. 

Falena held his face in his hands, trying to catch his breath. He couldn’t believe what he’d just thought about his own brother. His stomach felt heavy and empty at the same time. He was feeling bad in so many different ways that he didn’t even know where to start. His thoughts collided like an onslaught of hyenas, tearing at his flesh and gnawing at his bones.

“It was that nightmare again?” 

The desolate king felt his wife’s hand massaging his shoulder, conveying comfort and solace. Falena raised his eyes to Maisha, her presence always welcomed on any occasion.

She went around the chair where her husband sat to be closer to him, and he held her waist, resting his head on her belly as he did at the time when she was pregnant with their precious son. His hair of a strong and intense orange cascaded down, confusing itself with the dress of the finest fabric that his queen wore. 

Maisha caressed Falena’s head, patiently waiting for him to find words to express himself.

She never rushed or pressured him. She knew it wouldn’t do any good. Few queens in the world could say that they loved their husband so much that they wouldn’t mind supporting them unconditionally as Maisha had done for a long time.

They never changed, they just got stronger together. Maisha had the same long, naturally slightly grayish-beige hair with strong yellow tips and the kind, wise caramel-colored eyes she had when she was young. The eyes Falena most wanted to face at the moment.

The time that passed wasn’t as long as it felt. For Falena, it seemed like an eternity before he told Maisha every single thing that happened in his nightmare. When the story came to an end, husband and wife stared at each other in deep silence. 

“I failed Leona... terribly,” Falena sighed. “I’d let them say what they wanted of him…”

“Falena, dear. You always defended him the best you could, I know that. Leona... actually, you two are very complicated. All this palace’s life is. What they subjected to a fifteen year old and a five year old boy is unforgivable,” Maisha said.

“But there’s nothing else we can do.”

The woman bit her lip. She understood the feeling well, those shadows that haunted her husband. That’s what she was most afraid of, too. She had known Leona for a long time and, luckily, he came to respect her more than anyone in his life. 

However, respect was still too little to meet him in the desert and drive him back home. Maisha didn’t just want to be Leona’s sister-in-law. She wanted to be his older sister. But he despised his own brother by blood, so what would she — as the family’s outsider — needed to do wrong to fall into the same bad graces?

“What can you offer a man who has everything but wants nothing?,” Maisha suddenly thought out loud. 

And Falena grasped this thought as if it were dry leaves that the wind brought in the afternoon. The royal spiritual adviser, Chinaza, once said that those said leaves were messages from the Kings of the Past — and in reality, the old baboon wasn’t so far from the truth.

With the words of his wife in mind, the king began to think calmly about everything. Over the years, he offered Leona various kinds of gifts. Books, chess boards, expensive items of clothing, dinners with his favorite meats and everything else he had at his disposal to give to his precious brother. It wasn’t just charity. He knew Leona deserved it all.

But it must have looked fake in the young man’s eyes. Deep down — and the nightmare didn’t help this feeling — Leona should despise all these gestures. 

It felt like Falena was patching up the past, as if all they had been through was an old tapestry that just needed extra thread.

“What is the one thing that a man who despises all things, because he feels himself to be despised, most wants?,” Falena asked back as he got up and looked out the window.

They were at the highest point of the palace, from where they could see the whole kingdom and everything that the light could touch. Maisha rested her head on Falena’s shoulder and he leaned on her equally, both with their gaze lost in the horizon.

“I have no idea, my love,” the wife replied.

“I think I know what to do... well, I think” Falena swallowed hard. “It’s not much and I honestly don’t know how much Leona will like or understand it…”

“What are you talking about?”

“Our father used to say that diplomatic apologies require more than an emotional and well-crafted text. That’s not what touches people. It’s the process, the small steps you take along the way. If you never cross the desert, you will never come home.”

“Alas, you ramble a lot sometimes,” Maisha said but began to smile as she saw her husband’s face recover its grace. “Will you start with the small steps then?”

Falena took a deep breath, filling himself with courage. He would. 

Better late than never.

If anything, Leona’s patience could be more succinctly described as a worn-out tapestry. 

It had interesting embroidered drawings, making smooth lines on thick thread and had the colors of the sunset. In the old days, it had impressive strength. But he couldn’t say the same in the present though. A lion cub had snatched the edge and began to tear it apart, leaving bristles exposed and easy to fray.

Which settled Jack to be the only one — by their side at the moment — who was actually concerned about the dorm leader wanting to rip apart his own nephew running around him in a fit of pure childish energy. 

Meanwhile, Kalim was distracted by all the beautiful landscapes around them in the huge palace. Naru, the lioness-friend of the little prince, was explaining everything to him — and on certain occasions, she would take a look at her best friend and smile at him having fun. 

But, perhaps, what was doing more harm to Leona’s nerves was the indescribable delight in which Lilia and Vil were watching them near the balcony. They both had different kinds of smiles but seemed equally amused by his look of distress.

Was that Leona’s penance for being himself in the NRC? Or were they joining life’s queue to piss him off?

“Cheka!,” suddenly a powerful voice made its entrance. 

“Dad!” 

Leona had his chair turned away from the entrance, but as he turned around, he was for a very brief moment happy with his brother’s arrival. All to get Cheka away from him, especially. 

He then took a look at the colleagues he brought along and observed their reactions of respect and admiration at the arrival of the king. He wasn’t particularly impressed himself. 

Falena might be the most imposing “Lion King” in all of Afterglow Savannah’s history but Leona would always see him as his annoyingly enthusiastic older brother.

“Dear friends!,” Falena greeted the boys with a smile. “Could you let me steal Leona for a moment?”

This was such a surprise that the second prince turned his head back.

“Oh, we don’t mind, Your Majesty,” Vil spoke for the group, smiling politely.

Leona rolled his eyes. It was like he was being handed over like a pesky stray cat off someone’s backyard. 

Jack was thinking of a form to add any type of positive comments — to at least take that very impression out of the room — but he remained silent as the dorm leader assured him in a simple hand gesture that it wasn’t necessary. 

Falena noticed this as his brother stood up. Every one of them had their own opinions on Leona. Well, mixed opinions it seemed. Personally, he would like to know how his little brother was doing at Night Raven College — but he would have to wait a bit longer to hear about Leona’s school adventures. 

Falena waved a goodbye to Cheka and Naru, leaving them in the hands of their caretakers, the meerkat-man chamberlain Monti and the warthog-man cook — who also acted as the little prince’s personal aide — Zakki, and the remaining boys. 

Then the brothers left the balcony and walked through the halls in complete silence. No one dared disturb their course. Even a falling leaf could be heard in the distance.

After a few minutes of walking beside his brother without facing him, Leona eventually realized that they were walking through more and more empty corridors inside the palace. Places he almost forgot existed. It seemed that they had crossed the entire construction when Falena opened for him a door hidden behind a large dark red wall-tapestry.

Behind the secret passage, there was a large field that was part of the royal estate but remained in the shadow of the towers and higher floors. Further away, Leona recognized a part of the field with a large tree as the marking for the Cemetery of the Kings of the Past. 

“Why did you bring me here?,” he finally spoke to his brother, although he had a confused frown on his brows.

“It's a quiet, peaceful place,” Falena said. “Because it’s the Royal Cemetery, anyone who does not consider here an inhospitable place certainly knows that it is sacred so even servants and guards would never think of looking for a secret passage or opening the door.” 

“So what?” 

“I wish you could find rest here.”

Because Leona had a tremendously surprised expression, Falena added quickly:

“N-no! I’m not talking to you to rest forever here! No way! Please don’t even think...!,” then he took a deep breath to recompose himself. “What I mean, Leona, is that here it will be much easier to hide from the palace than in your room. Cheka is terribly afraid of those hallways, even if he won’t admit it.”

It was Leona’s turn to take a deep breath and facepalm, bewildered by that whole situation. He had not confused Falena’s words — though, come to think of it, it would indeed be a strange thing to say normally — and remained in the dark as to why he was being introduced to that place.

“Are you letting me stay here? Is that it?,” Leona questioned.

“Yes. Consider it my holiday gift.”

“Have you... gone insane? Is the crown so heavy that you hit your head on the floor one of these days?”

Falena bit his tongue, trying not to be discouraged in his convictions, nor to let himself be contaminated by the acidity of his brother’s words.

Leona could be an excellent diplomat when he wanted. Emphasis on “when he wanted”. But what was occurring at the present moment was no disaster of etiquette. It was how Leona usually talked to his older brother. 

Sarcasm and irony were always at their peak. Boredom dictated the harmony of his voice. And, above all, resentment oozed through the thorniest sentences like burning sulfur. 

Falena could feel it more than ever. They weren’t just brothers who couldn’t get along like normal families had. There was a large scar between them, completely exposed and fragile. 

There was no point in pressing mere band-aids there, hoping to disappear with the cut. Something needed to be done to improve the healing process and not allow inflammations. It would be painful and difficult. However, wasting time was no longer on Falena’s mind. If he were going to stop the blood, he should do it now.

It was then Leona felt something different when Falena looked up at him. 

Anyone who might have had the chance to observe them — however deserted the place was — might have seen the reflection of the king’s normally radiant countenance. However, only his young brother was close enough to understand that it wasn’t his usual glow.

“I gave you many gifts and allowed you to do whatever you wanted in a clumsy and vain hope that... “Falena sighed but kept going. “...things could be arranged. But it’s not that simple. In fact, by trying to please you, I was making the situation worse. But Leona...!”

His voice grew stronger, pouring out all its honesty like good rain in the midst of drought and desolation.

“I don’t know what to do, that’s the truth! Maybe I’ll never know. If our father was still well, I could try to take his advice... but all this damage is already done. You walk in and out of here with your head held high but with a terrible feeling in your heart. Like this it’s not even your home.”

“Don’t put words in my mouth. You don’t know how I feel,” Leona looked away, annoyed.

“Of course I don’t know! You don’t tell me!”

So Leona turned to Falena again, torn between putting the matter aside or contesting it in the adrenaline rush that awoke in his heart. Actually, he wasn’t sure what to answer. And as if Falena could finally after all those years read his little brother’s thoughts, he smiled softly.

“Talk about it when you feel the time has come. It doesn’t even have to be with me, if you don’t want to. For now, a place of silence and comfort is all I can indicate to you.”

“Indicate?”

“Yeah. Because you are still the Prince of the Savannah. You have rights like any of our bloodline,” Falena touched Leona’s shoulder and looked deep into his brother’s green eyes. “You can come here whenever you want. You always could.”

A strong breeze passed by the brothers but they didn’t move even a flinch. Small leaves of various colors, dust and the familiar smell of the savannah continued on its way, as if it were a ghost of one of the Kings of the Past who wanted to spy on the strange scene unfolding there on sacred territory.

Gently, Falena’s hand left Leona and joined his other hand. He wasn’t feeling cowed at least. On the contrary, he was satisfied for the first time with an action he did. His smile didn’t waver.

“Well, if you want to take a break, I’ll let your friends know and…”

“Falena,” Leona called.

He mirrored his older brother’s expression with his words. For a moment, Leona felt like a child again. Not in the sense of feeling small and powerless. But, as it was in the old days. The good times when things were in their place and Falena still had time to afford to teach him to play chess.

“Thanks. Or something like that.”

Leona stared at a distant spot in the landscape, not looking directly into Falena’s eyes. 

He didn’t feel ready yet for that type of situation and had doubts about his brother’s intentions. He never thought he would say that, but hanging out with his classmates and holding his own patience seemed much easier than dealing with the scars of the past.

But something inside him knew that Falena understood what he was doing. It could be a part that Leona hid from his own peripheral vision on purpose, almost always to the point of completely forgetting its existence. Yet it was still there inside him.

“But I’ll have to leave it for another time. I have to lead a pack of warthogs’ backsides to a festival, remember?,” Leona retorted, going back to the exit. “Later. Who knows.”

Falena let out a laugh that made his brother stop for a moment. He looked like he was going to comment on something but then gave up.

“Well, always feel welcome. And I’ll be watching it all from somewhere. Above all: have fun, Leona!”

And then, Falena gave the biggest smile Leona had ever seen before. Perhaps it wasn't just an impression that his aura of majesty was different. It wasn’t like it got any worse, though. 

It was as if an immense weight had left Falena’s shoulders and he rejuvenated like the dawn sun as he reached for his little brother’s step. They continued without saying anything on the way back, following the path in a very rare and comfortable silence. 

It was the first step towards a new ending.

Falena also felt a different energy coming from Leona and his gaze accompanied him throughout the visit, questioning within himself how people couldn’t even see the resplendent light coming from Leona. Or maybe they did — it was his final conclusion — and they didn’t know what to make of it.

But Falena knew. And he felt a deep joy to have a younger brother like Leona. Smart and strategic, able to stand on his own two feet, courageous. Even friendly — although the boy didn’t like to admit it. 

  For the first time in a long time, Falena could have a peaceful night of starry dreams. He never had that nightmare again. He was dreaming of a bright future ahead. Some moment in time when Leona could feel happy doing whatever he wanted. Where Cheka would be a wonderful king and Maisha would still be there by his side.

And Falena would live long to see all this.

Special notes: Uh, I haven’t actually watched anything from the Tamashina Mina event so I don’t even know if they acknowledge Falena’s presence at some point. But this is what I think happened. And I feel particularly relieved about writing this story bc I love Falena due to my memories of Mufasa. I don’t think canon will ever prove me wrong but even so, this is the version of good ol’ Falena that I love the most <3 Thank you for the attention!

[lacontroller1991]

I See You (Ernest Lawrence x F!Reader)

Main Master List || MISC Master List

Requested by @mariaarlert : I really love your work, so if it's possible, could you please write a ff for Ernest in which the reader is as talented in physics as Oppie, but really enjoys reading and painting? And also struggles with depression.

Discloser: This is based on Josh Hartnett's EOL. If you're not a fan, please continue on with your day :)

Warnings: Mentions of depression

Word Count: 1.5k

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He sees you. He knows that he probably shouldn’t, but from the moment he met you, he was enraptured. He remembers the first time he met you months ago. You had walked into his lab at Oppenheimer’s side, eyes wide and beauty that rivals Hollywood’s famous movie stars. Lawrence couldn’t deny that he was jealous when he saw a gorgeous woman like you with Oppenheimer, who is still talking to his flavor of the month, but his jealousy quickly subsided when he found out that you were to be Oppie’s TA. 

Since that day, Lawrence would watch you from the sides and even from the shadows as you work day and night, correcting Oppenheimer’s work and grading his students’ work. Judging by how he always manages to see you at random times throughout the day and night, Lawrence assumes that you have no life outside of school. And he was right for the most part. It wasn’t until he decided to ask you out that he found out that you do have a life. After a couple months of dating, he found out that you have a passion for art and reading. He would often come over to your apartment after a long day in the lab only to find you cuddled by a fireplace, book in your lap. Or some days he would find you lost in your paintings. Needless to say, he never would’ve thought that those were your hobbies based on your knowledge in quantum physics. 

The rain patters against the windows of the library as Lawrence leans back in his chair. He doesn’t typically come to the library, especially when he has his own office and lab, yet something about sitting in a library reminds him of his undergrad days. The clock beside him reads well past 11:30 and he’s probably the only one in the library at that time. Deciding enough was enough, he grabs his books filled with notes for the next week of lectures and turns off the light, encasing him in darkness. Just as he reaches for the door a light humming sound catches his attention. Looking around the library he doesn’t spot another person, especially because he was the last one to come in, but still, something is making a sound and he wants to know what it is. 

Deciding to investigate, Ernest cautiously walks down the halls of Bancroft Library until he spots a room tucked away in the corner with the light on. Picking up his pace, he pokes his head through the door and is taken aback seeing you in the room, humming to yourself and painting. 

“(Y/N)?” His voice causes you to jump in your seat and quickly turn around, rubbing a hand across your puffy red eyes.

“Ernest? What are you doing here? I didn’t think anyone else was in here except me,” you sniffle, trying to dry your eyes and put on a smile but Ernest can see right through it. Shuffling into the room, he sets his briefcase down on the table and pulls out a seat, wanting to comfort you but not knowing how. “Sorry for my appearance, I wasn’t expecting anybody to be here.”

“No, it’s okay. Are you okay? Why are you crying?” You turn away from him and continue with your painting, the colors clashing against each other to make out a shape that Ernest can’t decipher. The painting isn’t like your normal paintings. Normally your paintings consist of your environments, like Berkeley’s campus or San Francisco, but this? It’s a storm of colors and Ernest wonders why this painting is so different from your typical ones.

“I’m fine.” It’s a short sentence but he knows you’re not fine. If there’s one thing that Ernest hates above all else, it’s lying, especially when it’s obvious. 

“Don’t lie. You can talk to me, you know?” He watches as you seem to think for a moment before setting down your brush and turning back to him, clutching onto your body while the rain continues to pour on the outside. 

“I’m just tired of not being seen.” The words take Ernest aback. “I’m tired of not being seen for myself. I’m tired of no one taking notice of the things I like. Anytime I try to introduce myself or make friends, they automatically guard themselves around me and try to impress me so they can get in with Dr. Oppenheimer, but they don’t see me. I know I’m smart. I’m extremely smart. I just wish I was normal. I’m tired of just being “Dr. Oppenheimer’s pet”.” Ernest sits in silence for a minute as he processes your words. He never would’ve guessed that you’re so unhappy. How could you seriously think this way? Is it something he did? Did he mess up? Sure, he spends a lot of time in the lab, but he thought that you understood why. Even if he is part of the issue, you never confronted him and he doubts that you would just brush it off. 

Leaning back in his seat, he runs a hand across his face before it falls back to his lap. “Have you talked to Robert about this?”

“He just pats me on the back and says ‘you’ll be fine’, news flash, I’m far from fine. I want to go back home and I wish I never came here.” The words hurt Ernest deep as your tears start flowing again and you place your head in your hands, your body shaking from the sobs that escape your mouth. Reaching out to you, Ernest easily drags you from your seat and places you in his lap, holding you close as you quiet down. “I’m just tired of this. I want to be seen for something other than my brain.” 

His hand slowly pets your hair as he thinks of something to say. Had he picked up on this a while ago, he would’ve confronted you about it and maybe the feelings you’re feeling now wouldn’t be as strong. Ernest can’t help but to beat himself up about it. He should’ve noticed that you’re struggling. “I see you, you know?” His soft words cause you to lift your face and gaze up at him. “I see you as more than ‘Oppie’s pet’. I see you as (Y/N) (Y/L/N). A brilliant scientist in the making. A gorgeous, caring, funny, and beyond talented woman that I can see myself with for the rest of my life.” He can tell that his admission stuns you and he knows that it’s probably too early into a relationship to be making those claims, but when you know you know, even if it’s only been 5 months. 

“Ernest?” You get off his lap and stare at him and he can’t read past your stonewall. Letting out a sigh, he runs his hand through his hair, disrupting his perfectly parted hair to where a few strands fall in front of his face. 

“It’s true. I know we’ve only been dating for less than half a year and I know that I’m always working and you’re always working, but every time I see you, my heart skips a beat. I can’t go a single minute without thinking about you. That’s why I’m always in the lab. I can’t get any work done because you’re always on my mind. I see you, (Y/N). I have always seen you,” he takes a stride forward and gently cusps your face in his hands, staring down at you through his glasses. “I will always see you.” Ernest leans forward and places a feather soft kiss to your forehead and it’s all you need before you’re surging into his arms, clutching onto his suit jacket and breaking down. Wrapping his arms around you, Ernest gently guides you down to the floor while he lets you cry it out. 

After a few minutes, your tears start to subside and hiccups replace them while Ernest gently pats your back. It’s almost midnight now and he can’t deny that he’s emotionally and physically tired but he wouldn’t dare comment about it. “I’m sorry that you had to see me like this,” your words are quiet, but he heard them nonetheless. 

“I hope you know that I meant what I said. When I said I see myself with you for the rest of my life I meant it. I want everything about you. Tears and all,” he lightly pokes your side causing you to laugh softly. 

“It’s still silly.” Ernest reaches for your face and uses his thumb to wipe away your tears before helping you up.

“I don’t think so,” he replies, taking off his suit jacket and placing it around your shoulders, “you’re entitled to feel things and I can’t imagine the stress you’re under.” You shoot him a glare as if asking ‘are you serious’ but he doesn’t care. “Ok so maybe I do, but it doesn’t take away from your feelings.” He watches as you pack up your art supplies, tossing them haphazardly into a bag and slinging it over your shoulder before taking the canvas and tossing it in the trash. “Why are yo-”

“I throw them away when I no longer need them.” 

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Author's Note: I HOPE YOU ENJOY!!! Sorry its so much shorter than others

[tavolgisvist]

You Tell Me

When was that summer when the skies were blue? The bright red cardinal flew down from his tree You tell me When was that summer when it never rained? The air was buzzin' with the sweet old honey bee Let's see You tell me Were we there, was it real? Is it truly how I feel? Maybe You tell me Were we there, is it true? Was I really there with you? Let's see You tell me When was that summer of a dozen words? The butterflies and hummingbirds flew free Let's see You tell me Let's see You tell me

“I was really happy he [David Khane] let me include the count-in. It’s iconic.”

(Paul McCartney about You Tell Me recording)

A lovely sunny summer day. Once again, I was out at John’s house in Weybridge. <…> Around that time there was quite a spate of summer songs. ‘Daydream’ and ‘Summer in the City’ by The Lovin’ Spoonful, The Kinks’ ‘Sunny Afternoon’ – I think all those came out during the same year, 1966. We wanted to write something sunny. Both John and I had grown up while the music hall tradition was still very vibrant, so it was always in the back of our minds. There are lots of songs about the sun, and they make you happy: ‘The Sun Has Got His Hat On’ or ‘On the Sunny Side of the Street’. It was now time for us to do ours. So we’ve got love and sun, what more do we want? ‘We take a walk, the sun is shining down / Burns my feet as they touch the ground’ – that was a nice memory of summer. ‘Then we’d lie beneath a shady tree / I love her and she’s loving me’. It’s really a very happy song.

(Paul McCartney about Good Day Sunshine (1966), The Lyrics, 2021)

There's that old Maurice Chevalier song from Gigi called 'I remember It Well', which goes, ‘We met at nine, we met at eight, I was on time, no, you were late / Ah, yes, I remember it well’. I love that. A great little routine. The man in the song doesn’t quite remember, but the woman does, and ‘You Tell Me’ is a little bit like that. This is just memory. Often I think, ‘Oh my God, I really met Elvis Presley. I was really in his house, and it was a moment in time that really happened.’ That’s all there is to it. It just happened. Sometimes I pinch myself and think, ‘Was I really on the same couch as Elvis, talking about this stuff?’ I want to remember it three hundred per cent more; I want to bring it back: ‘Were we there, was it real? / Is it truly how I feel? / Maybe / You tell me’. <…> Because Linda’s father had a place in the Hamptons, I started going out there with her. That’s way over forty years ago – could be over fifty. I think that’s also where I wrote this, sometime in the early 2000s, and perhaps where the line about the red cardinal came from too, since you see them out there. ‘When was that summer of a dozen words?’ When everything’s going really well, nobody needs to talk, so you may just be sitting around with someone and reading books, or reading a newspaper, and you hardly even speak because there’s no need to; you’re in such a comfortable situation. ‘When was that summer when it never rained?’ I like that I’m not even going to try and remember what year it was. I remember hearing a story in the 1960s, when everyone was looking towards India and Indian mysticism, of some guy who was visiting a friend, and he came into the room and just sat down in a corner, and they didn’t speak. The idea was they were such good friends that they wouldn’t speak until someone had something to say. It wouldn’t just be, ‘What did you think of the football the other day?’ They were absolutely in each other’s presence, not needing to say anything. When they spoke it had to be meaningful. I liked the image of the peacefulness in that room. David Gilmour and Paul Weller, a couple of musicians whose opinion I value, independently sent me messages to say, ‘Wow, I like that one’ – to say that this song was one of their favourites of mine. Your main feedback is generally from critics, so it’s nice to get responses from people who’ve heard the song, especially real musicians, and were affected enough that they can be bothered to actually write to you. These days, it’s a message on your phone; there aren’t many people now who would sit down with beautiful old Basildon Bond stationery and expand it a bit. I don’t do too much letter writing myself anymore, but I have to admit I do like handwriting. I enjoyed being taught it at school, and I had a ‘proper’ way of handwriting. I miss the old stationery. I love the civility of letter writing. George Martin always wrote a letter to thank me for his birthday gift. We’d done ‘When I’m Sixty-Four’ together, so I would always send a birthday bottle of wine, and he would handwrite me a very elegant note. It was always a delight. In fact, I’ve kept most of them. George’s widow, Lady Judy Martin, has the same sensibility. It was very much what you did when I was growing up, but also, a certain class did it. I don’t know of many of my working-class friends in the street who did it, but my family did, and I had friends later, who lived in places like Hampstead, who would open their mail in the morning and answer it. They had one of those little envelope slitters, and they would be quite organised: ‘Dear Henry, What a surprise to hear from you. I was thinking of you only the other day . . .’ I like the civility of that. You know, the working-class equivalent of letters was the postcard. You used to write and try to be amusing. That’s when you could say things like, ‘The air was buzzing with the sweet old honeybee’. Now we have Instagram, but the postcard was the Instagram of its day.

(Paul McCartney about You Tell Me (2007), The Lyrics, 2021)

Lying behind the phrase ‘We’re on our way home’ is less the literal sense of going back to London, but more about trying to get in touch with the people we once were. The postcard sending does have a very literal feel, though. Whenever Linda and I went away, we would buy lots of postcards and send them to all our friends. John was also a great postcard sender, so you’d get some great stuff from him.

(Paul McCartney about Two Of Us (1969), The Lyrics, 2021)

[captainnameless]

some thoughts about Oscar post break and jetleggy- pls? 🥹

They find each other waiting for the media stage, taking shelter from the strong winds and the rain. Daniel almost doesn’t know who is who, from the way both boys are mostly covered in the jackets, hoods up.

He knows Oscar had a rough night, spending as much time in Australia as he could and only getting back to this timezone a couple days ago, still feeling the jetlag.

Lando, having spend his break in Europe, not affected this time around.

“How did you sleep?” Daniel asks, bumping into who he has figured out is Oscar.

“Like, 4 hours, maybe 5.”

Daniel makes a face, he checks his watch. FP1 is just past 12 and FP2 isn’t till 4, he can totally squeeze a nap in there.

“No nap.” Oscar says, as if reading his thoughts.

“Yes nap.” Daniel counters, turning towards Oscar. “I’ll come pick you up.” He steps back towards Alex then, leaving Oscar to grumble to himself.

Later, Daniel’s got a hand on Oscar’s bicep, guiding him towards his drivers room. Lando’s mum showed up and he wanted to spend time with her, and since Lando spend his break in Europe he wasn’t dealing with jetlag anyway, so he’s just got his fellow Aussie.

Oscar’s zipped out of his jacket and Daniel undoes his laces so the younger can kick his shoes off, when he finishes Oscar’s stifling a yawn.

“Danny’s always right.” Daniel muses and Oscar sticks his tongue out, rubbing at his eyes.

“Not always.”

“Agree to disagree.” Daniel hums, digging through one of the bigger backpacks and fishing out the stuffed giraffe.

“Louie.” Oscar breathes and grabs him from Daniel, hugging him close to his chest.

“You need a drink before we lie down?” Daniel asks, holding out a juicebox.

“No, thank you.” Oscar shakes his head, stifling another yawn. “We?”

“Hmm.” Daniel nods, kicking off his own shoes. “Unlike your brother, and sometimes you. I appreciate a good nap.”

Oscar giggles a little, waiting for Daniel to get comfortable before moving over.

“And,” Daniel continues, pulling Oscar closed. “I’ve missed you.”

“You too.” Oscar hums, eyes already closing.

[moldycantaloupe]

Lou I come once more with Ghoul thoughts ™️

I saw a post a while ago about giving Aurora angst, and I can't stop thinking about it. Freshly summoned Aurora being pushed to the side, sort of forgotten as the pack dotes on Phantom, because they're the new quint. Of course they're more important than her, why should she complain? But it gets lonely for her, not being able to bond with the ghoul she was summoned alongside because they're put on such a pedestal away from her by the rest of the pack. It gets worse on tour, not being able to fully bond with anyone because of how busy they all are.

Idk, lonely Aurora.

hello moon! I found Stardew valley a couple days ago and well, you know. been MIA

I saw the post, too! I'll be honest, I don't really care for the "pack forgets phantom" trope too much, maybe because i see it all the time at this point, but it's a good point to bring up!

Aurora being taught the basics of earth and then just being forgotten. She's a multi, the pack figured, and Sunshine and Swiss were independent when they were summoned; both actually preferred to be by themselves, so why wouldn't Aurora want that space? But she doesn't know that about them, so she really is just casted to the side.

Aurora, crying into the dark of her room while the rest of the pack is sleeping peacefully. Because she's apparently nothing while perfect Phantom gets everything. It's infuriating. It's devastating.

Aurora, eyes down to her plate quietly during breakfast. they only ask her the pleasantries- "How'd you sleep?" "Good." "mmm." before going about the morning.

Aurora, who has to lie through her teeth when Papa questions her. Who has to tell Papa that "yes, Papa, they treat me well. I am learning well, and am getting along with everyone."

Aurora, who decides it's because of her multi-ness. She's a jack of all trades but master at none, why on hell's green earth would they want such a ghoul as herself? But they love Swiss, and they speak so highly of Sunshine, her predecessor. What makes her different?

Aurora, fully breaking down in the middle of her room one night because she sees herself in the mirror, eyes darkened and emotions vacant. She knows this isn't her. She's been made into nothing, and who's fault is it, really? She doesn't know who to feel angrier at; herself or her pack. No, not her pack. They never were

... Aurora, not hearing the door open over her wails until the soft hand of Cumulus' is on her back.

Aurora, suddenly surrounded by multiple members of the pack in the middle of her room; Cumulus, Cirrus, Rain, Mountain. Phantom.

Aurora, confused and relieved but still so angry, as the pack members pour their heart out to her and ask for her forgiveness, as if she's transcendent enough to give it. As if she could trust them.

Phantom, taking hold of her balled up fist and lifting it up to their forehead. she knows of this gesture; it's acceptance, peace, a million "I love you's" in one motion. She breaks into a million pieces in their hands.

Aurora, days later, still wary of the pack but trying to make amends. Going with Sunshine to her first real practice. Sunshine, who had no idea what was happening until days ago, immediately took to protecting her. Aurora found it funny.

Aurora, weeks later, laughing at Swiss being so obliviously head over heels for her. Aurora, who sleeps and cuddles with Phantom nearly everyday. Aurora, who blushes when Mountain kisses her knuckles in greeting. Aurora, who purrs in comfort when all the ghoulettes dote over her.

Aurora, months later, in the first group huddle right before a show, casting her eyes over to Papa and seeing him beam at her. Aurora, who finally got her acceptance.

[alectricblue]

London was incredible

I was right in thinking England was made for me omg

I'll put everything about my trip (plus more photos) under the cut bc this is gonna be Long:

- First of all: I CAN SEE. Everything is constantly bathed in a dim light so I can open my eyes fully in photos during the day even if the sky is clear. I've never been able to do that!!! The moment I landed back in Spain I had to really shield my eyes from the sun bc of how bright it was, just squinting was useless 😂

- And the weather was perfect 👌. I love it a bit gloomy and miserable and it stays the same weather the whole day, unlike my home town which can have every kind of weather in a day. It did not rain ONCE the whole time I was there, the most it did was like two drops then stopped. But I wouldn't have minded it if had rained

London isn't as cold as I expected, which was great, it was the same weather as my home town, except a couple degrees colder and bit more humid. The outskirts where colder, but I liked that too

- I don't have to talk to ANYONE there. Everyone minds their own business and almost everything is automated so I can go anywhere and do anything with only a few words at most. I talked in English more with my cousins dog (he only understands commands in English and I luckily got obsessed w Victoria Stillwell's videos a couple years ago) than any person I had to talk to 😂

- British people are hilarious. I don't understand when people say they're serious and unpleasant. I've only found nice, charming and funny people. Maybe I'm biased bc I love their culture and their humor, but still

- Every big museum is free :D. I only had time to go the National Gallery and it was so huge and overwhelming that I had to get out early lmao, but it was gorgeous. Now I have seen an actual museum. I say this one bc a British family behind me on the queue complained that in Madrid museums aren't free, I had no idea, and I agree, all museums should be free

- You don't need to have a car!! (At least in most of London). You can go anywhere you want with just a credit card and the Citymapper app. Sure, I spent a fuckload of money going everywhere and buying things (/hyperbole), but I was ready for that

- And the expensive suits shops 😍😍🤩 I want to buy everything (I could never, I can't spend £400 on a suit or a coat or a jumper, but I can dream)

- The houses, parks and streets are beautiful 😭. Just my kind of aesthetic. And you can find them everywhere, from the center of London to the outskirts. And most of the plants there are my fave shade of green (dark blue-ish green). I've never seen grass so green 🥹

- My red hair color looks fantastic against the gray sky lmfao. And bc of the high humidity my hair stays wavy and my skin doesn't itch or break ☺️

- Now, British food I can't say much about. I've only tried fish (haddock) and chips and a beef pie at a pub. And a cinnamon roll at another place (not sure if that one is British tho). Everything I tried was delicious and would gladly repeat. That's all I can say for now

- I love the tube. It feels like riding a poorly constructed rollercoaster that needs oil and sounds like it's gonna derail any second. And you REALLY need to hang on. It's so so fun (/not being sarcastic). And it's SO convenient, I used it way more than the bus, which was pretty good too

- There were crows, squirrels and foxes everywhere!!

- I can watch British telly :D. I watched the last episode of Junior Taskmaster and the whole last series of Would I Lie To You on my cousin's smart TV :D

And then I could visit the places I've only seen on TV!!!

- - -

I was there for four days, which made it essentially two days, so I had to make the most of it. My legs are dead now lmfao, but I went to SO many places 🤩 I might be short but I'm gay so I can powerwalk everywhere

My fave places were: 1. the Big Ben, bc it was the first famous place I went to and it's the one that shocked me the most bc, omg, I AM here, I AM in England, Oh my god. And 2. St James park. Sooo beautiful, I had no idea it was a nature reserve for ancient trees and many animal species

But I also went to places younger me would have been ecstatic to go to (and current me lmao)

I went to 221B Baker Street and Scotland Yard. Picadilly and the Gherkin

Ate lunch while sitting on one of the benches of St James park and passed Berkeley Square, the Ritz and Soho

Went to St Paul's Cathedral, where the old woman in Mary Poppins feeds the pigeons

AND WENT TO THE TASKMASTER HOUSE. I only saw the roof... BUT I SAW IT. Now when I watch Taskmaster I can say that I've been there!! :D

It was sooo much fun hunting every place down and I took LOADS of photos

First time on a plane/flying check✅️

First time travelling alone check✅️

First time on the tube and on a double decker bus check✅️

First time on a pub check✅️

First time in London/England check✅️

I can't wait to go back. I would love to live there. Well, maybe not in the center center of London, but in England in general. Such a beautiful place, I knew I would love it

I finally fulfilled my childhood/teenage dream of going to England 🥹😭

Now onto the next adventure 😄

[andiwriteordie]

Mike coming out to Will sometime during season 5 before they’ve confessed their feelings for each other or anything hehe

For the writing prompt requests <3 also CONGRATS ON 1500 ANDI U DESERVE IT!!

hi elli!!! oh my god this prompt 🥺 this is so sweet, and it was so much fun to write. (side note i have now written like 3 coming out stories in the span of a week so. that's fun!) also tysm!!! <3 i hope you enjoy this!

—

you pull me in (and i’m a little more brave)

Mike Wheeler has two secrets.

He’s never really been a person who has liked keeping secrets, at least not from his friends. He’s kept secrets from his parents for his entire life, so that doesn’t really matter. But Mike has always tried to be honest with his friends. After all, the Party’s first rule isn’t “friends don’t lie” for nothing.

But Mike Wheeler has two secrets, and he’s kept them close to his chest for the past couple of years.

The first secret is this:

Mike Wheeler is gay.

Yeah, that… that had been something difficult to come to terms with. It all started back in the fall of 1985 before everything went to shit and before the world started ending and before they got trapped into an interdimensional war with One and the monsters of the Upside Down. Talk about an awful time to have a sexuality crisis. 

Seriously. Mike spent… a lot of sleepless nights, absolutely terrified that his first big secret would be found out. When you’re fighting a monster who literally reaches into your brain and brings out the worst parts of you—the parts that you’re terrified to even admit to yourself—it’s really not a good idea to have this big of a secret. 

At least… at least that’s what Will said when he came out as gay, early last year.

God, he’s the bravest person that Mike knows. There’s no one braver in the world than Will Byers—not even El, whom Mike believes is really fucking brave. But El, as incredible as she may be, is also a superhero. Of course, she can bravely face monsters and government scientists and anything the world throws at her. Mike thinks he’d be braver too if he was better than Superman.

Will’s just Will though, and he’s been through so much. And yet, he makes the decision to get back up every time the world tries to knock him down. He stands up against all the monsters and the bullies and every single being that’s ever hurt him, and yet, he still manages to be the kindest, most loving person Mike has ever met. He’s never lost sight of who he is, and everything he does inspires Mike to be braver. 

There’s no one braver than Will Byers—no one better in the world than Will Byers.

And that’s exactly why Mike decides that Will Byers should be the first person in the world to learn his secret.

The two of them are sitting in Mike’s bedroom now. Earlier, he’d asked Will if they could talk—alone, he’d been quick to add. Naturally, Will had been a little bit confused, but he’d nodded and promised to come over to Mike’s room in the lab after dinner.

And so… here they are. 

Mike’s heart pounds inside his chest, and his hands feel clammy. Of all the people in the world, Will is going to be the most accepting. Everyone in the extended Party has been accepting of Will and Robin (who’d come out a few months before Will), so honestly, Mike knows he shouldn’t worry about their reactions. But still, he’s never shared this secret with anyone before, and… and it’s terrifying.

But this is Will.

And Will makes him feel brave.

So, with Will Byers’ kind hazel eyes staring back at him, Mike takes a deep breath, and he wrings his hands nervously.

And he chooses to let his walls down.

“Will… I… I’m gay,” Mike admits, his voice impossibly soft. He doesn’t dare look up at his best friend—not yet. The memories of words so cruel and so hurtful, said years ago on a day full of pouring rain and his worst mistakes, make their way to the forefront of his mind. “I… I’ve known for a while now, and I, um… I didn’t want to admit it... But I… I don’t want to hide anymore.”

Another breath—shaky and quiet this time.

Mike dares to look up, and he meets Will’s eyes. “I, um… I said some things to you when we were younger,” Mike whispers, and though his vision is a little blurry because of the tears stinging his eyes, he can still see the recognition that flashes across Will’s face. “Some really, really hurtful things… and I’m sorry, Will. I… I know it’s no excuse, but… that’s when I was first starting to realize this about myself… And I was scared, and I took it out on you. And I’m sorry… I’m so sorry.”

One more breath. In and out.

“I wanted to tell you first,” Mike says, his voice soft, “not… not just because you’re gay too, but… but because you’re my best friend in the entire world, Will. And I just… I trust you more than anyone else, you know? And also… because you make me feel brave enough to be myself. So… yeah. That’s it, I guess.”

For a moment, Will just stares back at Mike, as if he’s searching for… for something or trying to understand Mike better. There’s curiosity but also compassion and understanding in Will’s eyes, and before Mike knows it, he’s being pulled into Will’s arms.

“Oh, Mike,” Will whispers, holding him close. 

The embrace is warm and familiar and comforting, and God, fresh tears well in Mike’s eyes as he all but collapses into Will’s hug. Will’s arms wrap around him tighter in response, and Mike sniffles, burying his head in his best friend’s shoulder.

 “I’m so proud of you,” Will murmurs, rubbing Mike’s back gently. “God, I am so, so proud of you, Mike. You have no idea. Thank you. Thank you for… for trusting me and for being you. You’re incredible, and I’m so proud of you.”

Somehow, just like he always does, Will knows exactly what to say. He knows exactly what Mike needs to hear, and Mike can’t help the watery laugh that escapes his lips. “I didn’t really do anything,” he admits. “Nothing that you haven’t done.”

“Hey.” Will pulls back, just enough so they can look at each other now, and he smiles at Mike, gentle and familiar. “Coming out is terrifying no matter what, and it’s not about me. It’s about you and how brave you are and how incredible it is that you’re accepting who you are. So… I mean it, Mike. I’m proud of you, and thank you for trusting me enough to tell me.”

Will pauses for a brief moment; then, he smiles again. “When I came out,” he says softly, “Robin told me this… She said that the world becomes a better, more beautiful place whenever anybody accepts who they are and shares it with the world. So… just remember that, okay?”

Mike can’t help but smile, and he reaches up, putting his hand on top of Will’s. “Okay,” he whispers back. “Thanks, Will… Seriously. Thank you for… for everything.”

The look on Will’s face turns soft again, and for a moment, the world shrinks until it’s just the two of them. Something wildly beautiful and familiar and electric lingers in the air between them, close enough for Mike to reach out and grab it, and he nearly does.

Because, you see, Mike Wheeler has two secrets—though, he’s now shared one of those secrets with someone and is starting to find the courage to share it with others.

The first secret is this: 

Mike Wheeler is gay.

The second one is… a little more complicated than the first, and it’s this:

Mike Wheeler is in love with Will Byers.

[dearweirdme]

I’ve been spending some time during the past couple of days reading jikookers’ opinions about the sudden appearance of taehyung in the AYS on tumblr blogs (No TW & IG since I care about my mental health), and I can confidently say that to some considerable extent, they’re angry at hybe for hiding taehyung and the marketing of the show and their subverted expectations.

I love them all, All 7 equally (Ok maybe Hobi more than others…I’m not gonna lie😅). I’m not happy seeing any of this happening and I’m not enjoying and feeling smug because of any of this because the toxicity’s level 📈 and I don’t feel safe anywhere around the fandom at moments like this (It literally feels like a apocalypse out there I guess, based on my previous experiences) especially in the midst of Yoongi’s DIU’s controversy which is still going on. (God why is it getting worse every day?🤦🏻)

All I can think about, is how whiny and spoiled jikookers are and how strong and perseverant we, as taekookers, have been over the years. We’ve literally been to hell and back and we’re awaiting an unknown future.

Thank you in advance for listening to my intimate thoughts, Rain.

Hi anon!

It is such a weird thing to be mad about. Only two weeks ago, I was still getting secret jkk asks telling me this travel show was planned by Jk and Jm, and that it wasn't fanservice or company content, but it was something they wanted to do...

And now they are mad because Jk and Jm's plans involved Tae? I mean, I always thought this was content they made for army, I still think that now Tae is also in it. Doesn't mean all three didn't love this opportunity. But it's crazy to get mad because the content you are getting isn't the content you though you were getting when the content you thought you were getting was a honeymoon kinda trip of a non-existing couple (wow..that's a lot of words).

I am staying far away from twitter, and I haven't visited Jkk side for months now (sadly they still come here... but I'm blocking so many of them I can't even read certain replies in other's blogs 😂). I have seen the mayhem from a distance though.. it is a messed up time right now. I'm just hoping members are alright and don't actually witness much of what army is saying.

Hobi is almost back anon!!!! Almost!!

[brooks-corner]

It Was Always You - Jacob x reader fic

Chapter 1 - Strange Things Are Happening To Me

Hello!! If you are seeing this, I am a new writer and I am aware that this will probably be crap BUT I just got a new laptop and thought I would give writing a try and why not do it about a favorite series of mine. I was always team Jacob, but hated the fact that he fell in love with like a newborn baby.. YIKES. So, I plan to fix that. Enjoy and let me know anything I can improve on writing-wise!

In this fic you are Bella's younger sister but things pick up when she gets married so you are like 17 when you meet Jacob.

Regarding your older sister, Bella, you can admit that you didn't like being around her that much. When you were kids, things weren't so bad. Sure you would but heads sometimes, but that is just what kids do. However, things start to change when you get older. Bella seemed to be more of a loner than an outgoing person, and you just couldn't get behind that. Your friends is what brought meaning to your life. You would not be anything without them. You also liked to hunt and be in the woods. You found it as your safe space. You could not say the same for your older sister. So when the divorce happened, it was only natural that you ended up with your dad, Charlie, and Bella ended up with your mom, Renee.

Charlie is the chief of police here in Forks, Washington. It is a heavily wooded area here and it is constantly raining. When the sun does come out, it is not for long and winters here can get pretty harsh. But you like all of these things about Forks. You like being here with your dad. You like living the simple life, watching football together and eating peach cobbler in the fall. Life was good being raised by your dad. Then things changed.

Bella moved back here a couple of years ago when your mom decided she wanted to travel. It was definitely an adjustment when she first came to Forks. Dad and you had a routine down and everything changed when she came along. Don't get me wrong, you love her as she is your sister and everything. You guys were always just different.

The first thing that didn't settle with you well was when Bella met Edward Cullen. You knew him to be this creepy boy at school with a creepy family. Everyone thought it was weird that they all kind of dated each other. You thought that Edward was somewhat better than his siblings since he wasn't dating his sister, but still thought he was strange by the way he interacted with others. But somehow Bella chose him of all people to date. Whatever. You figured that your odd sister could have her own odd boyfriend.

But as time went on, more and more weird things began to happen. For example, Bella left out of the blue one day and somehow ended up in the hospital with a broken leg. How does that even happen? Then, the Cullens left town. You were happy at first, you couldn't lie. Edward was never your favorite, and you did not get along that well. He always seemed so stand offish to you. But then, Bella got depressed. So depressed that she didn't leave the house for months. You felt really bad for her, honestly. It really scared you when she ended up screaming in the middle of the night because of the bad dreams she would have. Even if you didn't understand her completely, you could tell she really loved Edward on a deep level.

It gave you a sense of relief when she started to hang out with her younger friend, Jacob. Although you had never met the boy, you felt as though you should thank him, as he was the main reason Bella came out of her depression for a while.

But Edward came back. You hated him even more now, for causing your sister so much pain. You hated him more still since he was marrying your sister. And that brings you to today, Bella's wedding day. Here you were sitting on the white-seated chair while everyone was giving their wedding toasts for the happy couple. You couldn't lie, they looked good together. Emmett, Edwards brother, gave a rather dirty toast, but you liked him more after that. He seemed like the chill type. Dad gave a warning to Edward about knowing how to use a gun, and when he came back to sit beside you, you couldn't help but give him a grin and a fist bump. Mom's tribute was very heartfelt and meaningful, just as you thought it would be. You always loved that about her. After mom, it then came to your turn, and you thought you would give it your best shot.

Standing up in front of everyone, you take a deep breath and begin, "I am not going to lie. I didn't like Edward at first, and I still don't know if I do yet,"

A laugh rumbles through the wedding guests. It makes you smile.

"But what I do know, is that Edward makes Bella happy. And I am really glad she has someone that can do that for her. She deserves it. Bella really is something special Edward. And I hope you can realize that. Because if you don't, I can tell you right now that you'll be missing out."

Everyone finds your toast short but sweet and you can tell you get an approval from Bella. That's all you needed. You really do want her to be happy.

The night continues on with words of congratulations to the newlyweds. You snack on some good food and talk to your mom and dad but after a while you start to get stuffy. Bella and Edward were about to leave for their honeymoon anyway, and you know that Bella wouldn't miss your goodbyes anyway.

You decide to take a walk through the woods. You always found that the woods were very calming to you and all you needed was some fresh air. As you are walking and enjoying the scenery, you see a bird. It stands out against the dark forest with its bright red feathers. It looks at you for a few seconds and it flies off and you decide to chase it. It brings you further into the woods and it is going faster so you pick up to a light jog. The bird is flying further and further off, so you pick up into a higher pace until you're in a full sprint. You are losing sight of it, but you try to keep up until a branch snags your dress and brings you to the ground. You fall flat on your ass.

"Fuck"

The branch cut up part of your leg and but a decently sized gash on your calf. The blood is trickling down your leg. You were never good with blood, so you stop looking at it before you faint. You try to stand up to pull your dress free, but seethe in pain from the cut. you think, fuck the dress as your hands are working to tear yourself free, not caring about ripping the fabric when you hear a sound. It's a wolf howling not too far away from you. It sounds loud and, to you, kind of sad. You try not to make much noise as you are frantically ripping at the material, but you can't help your breath from picking up. You really wish you hadn't chased that dumb bird now.

There is a stirring in the brush to your right and you stop everything you are doing. Your body trembles as two piercing eyes reveal themselves. You try to remain still, but your body is shaking from fear. The figure is moving towards you, and you cannot help yourself but to look at it and you see a wolf. A huge ass wolf. You have never seen a wolf this size before. It is like a giant reddish bear, but it has pointy ears and the frame of a dog.

You think this is how you die. This is how it is going to end, and you hope someone with find you, even if it is mauled up in pieces. But as soon as you stare into the wolf's eyes, it stops. It doesn't look like it is about to tear you into bits. It just stops. It seems like it is staring into your eyes as well, deep in thought. The wolf almost looks surprised, taken aback even. You just keep looking at each other until finally the wolf snaps out of it and inches closer to you. You turn your face to hide, nowhere to go since you are still tethered to the tree. You expect this to be your end, but instead it uses its teeth to free you from the branch, biting at the fabric.

Instantly you pull away from the giant dog, but when you see that it is not making any moves to hurt you, you cautiously let it approach you. You're prepared to make a run for it at any moment, but you find that you don't have to. You notice that it looks at your leg and you half expect it to take a bite out of it. Instead, it licks it clean. You just stare in awe as it does its work. That is until you notice your leg. Right before you pass out, you realize that it is a lot of blood, and you need to get it patched up or else you risk getting it infected out here and losing half your leg. As you are in an out of consciousness, you feel tough fur on your stomach, and you recall moving even though you aren't doing it yourself.

Your lasts thoughts are, what is this wolf? And what have I done for it to like me?

[thezombieprostitute]

Alphas & Algorithms - Part 7 - Feelings

A/N: Continued from Part 6 . Reader is female and is described as "tall". No other descriptors.

Warnings: It is a Dystopian AU. Food scarcity, hunger, mentions of families being separated. Discussion of non-consensual relationships and unwanted pregnancy. Bullying. Please let me know if I missed any!

--Part 1-- --Part 8--

--Series Masterlist--

If there was one good thing Curtis could say about his work it’s that it gives him plenty of time and space to think. And there was much to think about. They’ve started working with the pups to get them used to the fact that he’s leaving. He knows he’s out of his depth in all of this, but he trusts his brother. His brother who still knew the hand signals from all those years ago. His brother who’s apparently been trying to hook him up with Omegas for years. 

He was so lost in thought he didn’t notice Hobie until he was practically in front of him.

“Oi, Curtis! How you gettin’ on with that pet? Meetin’ some interesting people from what I’ve ‘eard.”

“What do you want, Hobie? I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

“Yeah, figured you would. Got until the security drone comes by. Ask me somefin’.”

“How much does she know?”

“Dunno,” Hobie shrugs his shoulders. “Jus’ know she knows more than she says.”

Curtis sighs at the unhelpful answer and decides to not waste time arguing. “What’s Stevie’s, Steve’s, role in all of this?”

“Couple o’ Betas on the inside are ‘elpin’ with access. Sometimes even sabotage of the Omegas. Dunno th’ specifics, don’t need to.”

“Access?”

Hobie grins, “that’s a bit much to explain for the time you got.”

Curtis nods in acquiescence, “is her Beta in on everything?”

“Yup. It’s how we know she’s not sayin’ everything she smells.” Hobie looks around, “one last question, bruv.”

“Are you sure this plan will work?”

Hobie looked Curtis in the eyes, “enough that I put my life on the line for it.”

“It isn’t just your life at risk, though.”

Hobie smiles, “th’ way we’ve got everythin’ set up, me an’ maybe two others take the fall. No one else. Definitely no one in your Pack.” 

With that, Hobie runs off, giving Curtis a few seconds to get back to work before the security drone shows up. 

“Jake,” Y/N yells from the kitchen. “How did the date with Hope go?”

“It went alright,” he shrugged. Y/N could smell disappointment, which for Jake smelled like rain on a summer day when you’re supposed to be outside. Then she picked up the other scent, curry and warm, strong beer. A distinctive combination that made her think of overly crowded, chaotic art fairs: everyone freely expressing whatever and however they wanted. It was a scent that made her uncomfortable just thinking about the overstimulation. 

“Do you want some cookies or something to cheer you up?”

Jake chuckled, “can’t hide anything from you, huh?” Y/N smiled gently and shook her head. “Okay, the date didn’t go well. Turns out there were some serious differences of opinion but I’m hopeful they’re not deal-breakers, you know?”

Y/N hugs him, “I know.” The hug makes the scent of curry and warm beer stronger. It’s the same scent she’s smelled on people proven to be plotting against the AI. She worries for Jake, knows he’s lying about some things, but she trusts him. He’d never lie without reason and she’d be the last to speak up about the connecting scent. As her mother said, “just because you smell something doesn’t mean you have to say something.” 

“How did your date go? Did he say “yes” yet? Do I get my death-by-chocolate cake?”

“Not yet,” she shook her head as she smiled. “Today’s date got a bit off track when I saw Mr. Castle in the gym.”

Jake’s face fell, “oh damn. I didn’t realize.”

“It’s okay. Steve came by and picked up her tea so I didn’t have to take Curtis on that delivery. Pretty sure his opinions on Omegas wasn’t helped by our encounter with Colin and Suzanne at the community center.” Jake gave an appreciative grimace while Y/N continued, “then again, I definitely felt Curtis’s drive to protect me through the temporary bond. It was really sweet.”

“Ooo! Intriguing! I’m definitely going to get my cake and eat it too!”

Y/N smiles, “he’s also asked to meet you.” 

Jake stops and looks at her, “are you okay with that? You know both of us best. If you think it’ll be okay, I’m good to meet him.”

“He said that, since you’re the closest thing I have to a Pack, it would feel weird to not meet you. And, between the two of you, I really don’t think there’s any reason for animosity. He doesn’t seem the jealous type and you’re the supportive, not confrontational type, so I think it’ll be okay.”

“I promise to do whatever it takes to make everything super awkward!”

“You’re lucky I know you’re joking,” Y/N rolls her eyes. “I’m genuinely hoping, if you two do get along, and he does eventually agree to be my Alpha, that you’ll give him some…help? Guidance? With my in-heat care. Especially with the foods and scents.”

“Oh it’s definitely getting serious,” Jake smiles. “If you want me to share my secret family recipes, it’s gotta be a sealed deal.”

Y/N’s face heats up and she looks down, still smiling. Jake’s eyes go wide, “you really like him, don’t you?”

She nods, “he’s living up to the promise in his scent. He’s warm, smart, makes me feel safe and comfortable. I…I don’t think I’ve ever felt this kind of "want" for intimacy.”

Jake takes her hands, “I’m so happy for you! Can’t wait for you two to make it official.”

When Curtis gets home, the pups immediately rush him. Timmy and Andy grab his hands and lead him to the table while Yona gives him a serious face and says, “we need to talk.” They all sit at the table to eat but the pups are asking him questions between bites.

“Is it true that we’re moving?”

“Still ironing out the details,” Curtis says. “But I think Andrew, Tonya and I are agreed that everyone’s moving.” The adults nod.

“Why are we moving?”

Curtis sighs and thinks before answering, “because that’s how things go. Life requires us to make changes from time to time and that time for us is now.” Timmy and Yona seem okay with the answer but Andy looks to Andrew for confirmation first.

“Are you going to move with us?”

“Maybe for a little bit,” Curtis hesitates. “But, ultimately, I’ll be moving in with that Omega who’s been courting me.”

“Is it because we ate her cookies? Do we owe her for that?”

“No, not at all,” Curtis quickly asserts. “Not one bit of this is because of you. And those cookies were freely given.”

“Do you love her?”

Curtis pauses at that question. He’s been so busy thinking about his brother, his Pack, the pups, he hasn’t really thought about his actual feelings about her. The temporary bond is almost completely gone but it could still be coloring his feelings so he chooses his words carefully.

“I don’t know that it’s love, but I do know that I trust her. I feel comfortable around her. She’s honest, strong, caring, comforting, smart. She’s definitely changed my perspective on Omegas.” He stops when he hears the pups giggling and gives them a confused look.

“You were smiling,” Timmy giggled. “You do like her! You don’t smile for anyone you don’t like!” 

“Thats…Okay, you’re right. I’m not much of a smiler.”

“Curtis is in love!” the kids chant for a bit while Tanya and Andrew are trying not to laugh. The teasing continues well into the night, well after they should all be asleep, but Curtis doesn’t push it. He wants to enjoy these moments while he can.

--Part 8--

Tagging @every-username-is-taken-damnit, per request.