#with wild running around and doing his thing

[onceinablueberrymoon]

made for this | husband!salesman x pregnant!reader

scenario: pregnant!reader has a doctor’s appointment and wants to help husband!salesman by recruiting some new players at the clinic. the salesman has a different idea in mind… setting: a couple months after the events of season 1; sequel to this but can be read as a stand-alone fic warnings: pregnant!reader; a bit of spice and a lot of fluff; both reader and salesman feel morally superior to others; no use of y/n; second person POV word count: 931 notes: thank you all for the love on the first part! i hope i didn’t make the salesman too ooc, i try to keep things as accurate to the show as possible! but i think he is somewhat capable of having soft moments, although very rarely. i have at least one more idea for this series (if it can even be called that), so be on the lookout for that ٩>ᴗ<)و (also if anyone has any ideas for this ship, send them my way!) please enjoy! borders by @strangergraphics-archive

“Hey, can I borrow some business cards? I have an appointment at the clinic today and thought I’d pass some out.”

At your call, your husband walked into the bedroom to find you standing in front of the mirror next to your shared bed, adjusting your outfit for the day. He crossed his arms.

“I don’t think so. Any public involvement with the Games could endanger you,” his gaze lingered on your swollen stomach. He sighed, “You can’t defend yourself in your condition, no matter how much you think you can.” 

You just rolled your eyes and shot him a piercing look. 

“My pregnancy doesn’t impact my job, though. I can take care of myself just fine.” You took a couple steps towards him. “Who’s the one who befriended Gi-hun again? You?” You looked around the room before you pointed at yourself. 

“Me, that’s who,” you grinned proudly, only for your husband to cover his face with his hands, his patience clearly running thin.

“Besides,” you shrugged, “it’s not like I’ll be playing ddakji and smacking people. No, my dear husband, that’s your thing.” You brought a finger up to your lips. 

“I have my own ways to play.” You flashed a wicked smile towards your husband, causing him to shiver. 

Right there and then, you knew that you had won the battle.

…or so you thought.

In the blink of an eye, your husband swept you off your feet and pinned you on the bed with only one arm. Your startled expression pleased him judging by the wild look on his face. His unoccupied hand came to gently press on your growing stomach, adding to the tense situation. He brought his lips up to graze your ear.

“See how vulnerable you are? Just think,” he lightly bit at your helix, “others won’t be so nice.”

It was your turn to shiver. 

When you didn’t respond, he continued nibbling at your ear with his hand still firmly planted on your belly.

Soon after, he lifted his head and asked, “What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?” He kissed you deeply, only breaking away to gasp for air. The most smug expression was plastered on his face. 

“Oh wait, I do.”

How cheeky of him. And cheesy, too! 

You huffed, “Wow, already starting with the dad jokes? And not even the good ones either.” His eyebrow quirked upwards before he bent down to press his nose against yours.

“Do you really want to play this game?” He whispered softly, causing you to shudder. “You know I always win.”

Turning your head to the right, you let out a small chuckle.

“Oh really?” You retorted, “Prove it.”

This sent him into a borderline frenzy as he started planting kisses down the side of your neck. You threw your arms around his neck, a smile on your face. Sometimes it was just too easy to manipulate him.

As he was about to leave a mark, a sharp movement stopped him in his tracks. He blinked, snapping out of his trance. You were both confused when there was another movement, although not as sharp as the first.

The two of you looked down at your rounded stomach, and your husband removed his hand. The baby’s kicks continued nearly every minute, while you both just watched, not moving a muscle. Then, your husband lifted himself up off of you, moving to sit on the bed beside you. You sat up and, taking one of his hands, gently laid it on your stomach. Your husband carefully wrapped an arm around you, now acting as if you were made of glass.

“They’re so active. Do you think,” he paused, then in a whisper, asked, “Do you think I hurt them?” 

“No… I think they’re just making themselves known,” you kissed him on the cheek. 

Both of you sat in comfortable silence for a while, only to soon realize that you were now running late for your appointment.

“Is there any chance I can still get those business cards?” You pleaded. 

Your husband chuckled, “Absolutely not. In fact, I’ll accompany you.” 

“I thought we weren’t allowed to be seen together in public?” You furrowed your eyebrows. 

He let go of you and turned to open his briefcase at the foot of the bed. Pulling out some files, he nodded, “There’s quite a few prospective players residing at that hospital. You attend your appointment, I’ll recruit more players.” He flashed his signature smirk, putting the files back in his briefcase.

“Wow, I thought you wanted to come to my appointment with me!” You laughed, giving him a light shove.

Your husband gave you a knowing look, “I can’t do that. But I expect a copy of the sonogram.” He stood up, holding out a hand for you to take.

“What a gentleman.” You took his offer and stood up.

Placing a hand on your husband’s chest, you teased, “Try to take it easy at the hospital, hm? Most of the prospects there are already on the verge of cracking. We don’t want to break them before the Games – it wouldn’t make for a good show.”

Wrapping his arms around your waist, your husband pouted, “But where’s the fun in that?”

“Giving them a tiny sliver of hope, only to eventually rip it away…” You looked him straight in the eyes. “The suspense is so thrilling, don’t you think?”

“And here I was starting to think you weren’t cut out for the job,” he chuckled. He checked his watch, noting the time.

“We should get going – it’s rude to be late.” 

a/n: by the way, i don’t think i have it in me to write full-on smut, the most i can probably do is a bit of lime lol

tags: @preppyfella

[keikikait]

ʙᴀʙʏ ʙʟᴜᴇ (ʀᴀꜰᴇ ᴄᴀᴍᴇʀᴏɴ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

pairing: rafe cameron x pogue!f!reader, (not au, both are early to mid 20s)

word count: 4.8k

summary: you're just one of his many conquests, so why does he need you?

warnings: ANGST, friends with benefits, mild yearning/pining, rafe cannot handle his emotions, ward mention, slight jealous!reader, not proofread

a note: idk if i ate. i'm sorry that it's a little short. :( also, my stalker!rafe fic needs SERIOUS work, so i decided to upload this instead. i am very unhappy with it.

please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

Sometimes you think you aren’t meant to be loved. 

It’s almost comical, the way you just sit there and take it. The way you let him walk all over you, taking bites out of you just to toss you aside for later. He cut off slices of you when he needed, never taking the full thing. Always little samples, just to keep you hooked. He would chew you up and spit you out, and you would always come crawling back.

You watch as Rafe dresses himself, eyes landing on his ass as he pulls up his boxers. He always dresses so quickly, not even handing you a towel as he paces around your room, gathering his things. At first, you thought he just didn’t like your apartment. You were a Pogue, after all, even though you were lucky enough to move to a nicer area of The Cut. You spent a lot of time redecorating, trying to make it a little bit nicer. A little bit cleaner. Anything to get him to stay.

Your apartment was small. Cozy. Quaint. 

It reeks of you. And that’s why Rafe won’t stay.

Rafe turns around, catching your eye. He can’t help the small smile that stretches across his lips as he pulls his jeans on. “Admiring the view?”

“For as long as I can.” You say.

Your response surprises him, and his eyes widen just slightly. He stares for a moment, unsure of how to respond. He clears his throat, breaking eye contact. “You’re too sweet for your own good.” He mutters, sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling his socks on.

“I wish you would stay.” You mumble, aching to reach out and touch him. But you don’t.

“I know you do,” Rafe sighs, tying his shoes on. “But I can’t, sweetheart. You know that.”

“I do.” Your voice is soft.

“So why do you keep asking me to stay?” It comes out angrier than he intended. But maybe you needed that.

“I…” You swallow hard. “I don’t know.”

“My answers always no. Why do you keep askin’?” Rafe stands, grabbing his wallet and keys off of the bedside table. “Shit’s starting to piss me off.”

“I’m sorry.” You say, sitting up, holding the duvet to your chest. You feel like you’re always telling him that. 

“Quit being sorry. Just stop fucking asking it,” He turns to face you. “Jesus. It’s not that hard.”

You don’t know what to say. You nod, looking down.

Rafe sighs, running a hand through his hair. He can’t deny, he loves when you look like that. Sad. Vulnerable. It drives him wild. His gaze lands on your neck, bruised and marked by his teeth. Possession looks good on you, He often thinks. 

But that was it. He could only take so much of your submission. He couldn’t take you asking him to stay, too.

“I won’t ask again.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, still avoiding his gaze.

His jaw tightens and he stares at you. He wants to take you and claim you. To show you were his, and only his. But he didn’t want to keep you. Why would he? “Good.” Rafe walks around the bed and stands in front of you. He reaches out, grabbing your chin and forcing it up. “And look at me when I’m talking to you.”

You nod, looking up at him, mascara still smeared on your under eyes. 

Rafe studies your face. God, you always looked so beautiful like this. Broken and upset. The sight had him wanting to take and claim you all over again. But the look of submission in your eyes makes him want to push you even more. “You look pretty like this.” He murmurs, pushing your neck to the side and looking at the hickeys on your neck. “It suits you.”

“Thank you.” You say, although you don’t like it. You didn’t like this version of you, the pathetic girl who would do anything and everything for one iota of his attention; but it got him into your arms, so that’s really all that matters.

“I wonder why that is? Why you look so pretty when you’re crying?” His fingers lightly trace over your collarbone, sending a shiver down your spine. He knows that it doesn’t matter whether you like it or not. You were addicted to him, craving his attention more than you craved anything else. You’d take whatever he gave you. That was the only thing Rafe loved about you.

“Because my lips get all pouty, and my eyes get all red?” You guess, resisting the urge to lean into his palm.

Rafe almost laughs at your answer. It was cute. “Hmm,” He runs his thumb over your bottom lip, gently brushing them. “Yeah, probably.” His eyes meet yours, staring at your face. You were so easy to break. So easy to control. You’d let him do whatever he wanted, no fight or protest. Just endless submission. It was addicting.

You’re getting restless. “Have any plans today?”

Rafe’s hand falls from your face, and his jaw tightens. You always did this. You always try to make small talk, try to create some type of emotional connection between you, even though you knew deep down that he didn't give a shit about you or about your day. “Yeah. I do.” He picks his jacket up from the bed. “Have to go visit my dad's lawyer. Then I’m meeting some friends.”

“That sounds fun,” You say, although meeting with Ward’s lawyer must have something to do with life insurance. “Uh, being with your friends later, I mean.”

“Yeah.” He mutters, shrugging his jacket on. He grabs his keys from the bedside table and glances at you. It’s hard, watching you try to connect to him. He knows that you want more than this. You want to be his girlfriend. You want the world to know you’re his. 

But that couldn’t happen. And you knew that.

“Are you, um…” You shift on the bed, the duvet falling just a little bit. “Are you gonna come back over tonight?”

Rafe glances at you, eyes falling to the duvet. God, he loved how you were always trying to keep him around. He loved watching you try and fail to keep his attention. He lets out a deep breath, running a hand over his buzzed head. “Do you want me to?” He already knows your answer.

“Only if you want to,” You say, trying to not come across as even clingier than you already are. “You know my door’s always open for you.”

He sighs and rolls his eyes. You were always so predictable. So needy. So willing. He starts to wonder when he'll get sick of it. “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” He grunts, picking his phone up off of the bedside table and shoving it in his pocket. “I don’t know yet. Might be with Sofia tonight.”

Your soft smile drops, just for a second, and you hope Rafe doesn’t notice.

Sofia.

Sofia?

Who the hell is Sofia?

You knew everyone he hung out with. Every girl. You had tabs on all of them, shamefully. You didn’t know who the hell Sofia was. Had you missed someone? How had she managed to slip through the cracks?

Under the covers, you dig your nails into your thigh. You had to act casual, as normal as you could be. You were always treading thin ice with him, and you couldn’t risk losing him over this. Your smile returns and you give him a nod. “Cool. Just text me.”

Rafe watches as your smile falters for a moment. He knows it. He knows that you’re jealous. There was no way that you weren't. It didn’t take much to make you jealous. He could make one passing comment about a girl, and you’d spend the rest of the day worrying, wondering who she was. That's why he brought up Sofia, and why he always mentions his other girls to you. Something about the idea of you laying in bed, terrified and anxious to lose him, really excited him.

He smirks as you quickly regain composure, knowing that he got to you. “Yeah. I’ll text you.” He says, turning to leave.

“Drive safe.” You say.

He stops as he stands in the doorway. Something about you telling him to drive safe always made him… feel guilty. It was that damn softness you always had and used against him. He glances at you over his shoulder, swallowing whatever sentiment he was feeling. “Sure thing, sweetheart.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

You hate Sofia.

After a bit of sleuthing, logged into one of your many burner accounts, you finally find her. She’s a Pogue, like you, and for some reason you find that it stings more. She’s gorgeous, absolutely beautiful, the sweetest girl around, and you fucking hate her.

Rafe had a roster. A rotation, the same few girls on repeat until he got bored, where he would swap a few out for fresh meat. You don’t know how you managed to stay on the roster for this long, but you weren’t complaining. Maybe Rafe thought you had another guy out there, filling your cunt and your bed when he was gone, but you didn’t. You’re too busy being Rafe’s to fall for somebody new.

You used to not care about the other girls. The more and more he mentioned them, though, you got curious. You started looking them up on Instagram, stalking their profile through burners and analysing every post. Every story. None of the girls ever looked like you. None of the girls were like you at all. Why did he like them, and why did he like you?

You wonder if he treats the other girls as poorly, or if in some twisted way, you’re special. You could handle being the only girl that Rafe treated like shit if that meant you stood out to him in some way. You wonder if he fills their necks with hickies, too, if he grips their hips too hard and leaves bruises, if he spanks them until his handprints form welts on your ass cheeks.

You hoped to God you were special.

You tried to distract yourself, running errands and tidying your apartment, but you kept thinking about him. About his stupid baby blue eyes, and his stupid pretty face, and his stupid hands and the way they felt around your neck. You didn’t want to be in love with Rafe fucking Cameron, but you feared you were already in too deep, and soon you would drown, falling below the surface, hand outstretched, hoping just this once that he would pull you up.

You sit on your bed, in the dark and the silence, staring at your phone, waiting for it to light up. Waiting for him to text you, to need you.

The hours pass. Midnight. One and two. Three. Before four o'clock rolls around, you still have nothing. You know that you should just give up and go to bed. He probably passed out at his friends’ place, too drunk and too tired to text you, but you keep telling yourself that he's just busy. That he's gonna wake up any moment now and shoot you a text. 

You're praying that something happens, that something keeps you up and keeps you waiting for those messages that you know he most likely won't send. You want him to finally fucking want you in the way that you want him. You didn’t like feeling this way, it wasn’t fun to constantly torture yourself, but is it not fun to feel many other ways? If it wasn’t Rafe, it would just be someone else. Another man, someone else’s son, reminding you that no matter how hard you try, you just aren’t meant to be loved.

Why don’t you do it for him? Why aren’t you enough to get him to stay?

You tap the screen, and it lights up. No new notifications.

“Shit.” You mumble, your hand retreating to your side.

You sigh and lay back, staring at the ceiling. Of course, he isn’t going to text you. Why would he? Why would he do that to you, when he never had before? This is exactly what you expected. This is exactly what he loves. Making you doubt, getting you jealous. It gets him off. It’s a game for him. You were his prey, and he was your predator. 

As you lay, staring at your ceiling, you hear three, quick knocks on your door.

At first, you think you’ve imagined them. You sit up, your feet sliding into your slippers as you pad into the living room. You stand there in silence, in the dark, only listening to your own breathing. You’re about to turn around when there’s another knock, this time loud and pounding against your door.

You cross the rest of the room, undoing the locks and opening the door.

Standing on your doorstep, of course, was Rafe, hands in his pockets as he stares you down. He seems… tired. He had dark circles under his eyes, probably from staying out late. He glances at you from behind those tired eyes, his gaze falling over your body. He’s taking note of the oversized t shirt you’re wearing, and how your hair is dishevelled and messier than it was before. He could tell you had been lying down. “Can I come in?”

Something's off, you can tell. He’s acting different, even though it’s just subtly. You watch him as he chews on his lip, an anxious habit he didn’t think you noticed. “What’s wrong?”

Rafe’s expression falters for a split second, before he quickly regains his composure. He was fine. Nothing was wrong. Except for the fact that you asked him that. He looks over you. “Nothing,” He responds, his voice harsh and biting. “I just wanted to see you. That’s all.”

You don’t believe him. He normally carries himself with intense confidence and gravitas, so much so it constantly inks into your lungs and chokes you, but this was different. He felt different. “Right.”

He swallows hard, shifting on his feet. He didn’t like this. He didn’t like the way you were looking at him. Concerned, like you cared. He glances away from you, sighing. “Can I come in?” He repeats his question, eyes flicking between you and your living room.

You nod, stepping aside and holding the door opening, flicking a light switch. One of your lamps turns on, casting a warm, soft glow over your living room.

Rafe strides into your apartment, immediately heading for your couch. Everything in your place was so damn cozy; the warm light, the soft couch, your scent lingering on every single inch of every single surface. He collapses back onto the couch, arms spread out and legs splayed. He runs a hand over his face, swallowing hard.

You sit next to him, and for a while, you two sit in a comfortable silence. You look over at him, pushing some hair behind your ears. Your voice is soft when you finally speak. “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

Rafe closes his eyes, sighing as you speak. He didn’t want to tell you about Ward. Not when you were like this, so gentle and caring. He was exhausted, to say the least. He was dealing with so much, all at once, and he didn't know what to do. Finally, he looks at you. In this lighting, with your hair messy and your eyes concerned, you looked even more like the sweet girl he always wished you were. Sweet and caring and loving. “Today was my dad's funeral.”

Your shoulders droop, and your eyes soften. You had no idea. He had only mentioned visiting his father’s lawyer to you yesterday morning. “Shit, I’m sorry, Rafe. I’m so sorry.”

Rafe almost groans. He loved you when you were soft, when you were sweet. He loved it more than he cared to admit, but right now he hated it. He hated it when you were this caring. It made him doubt everything. He glances at you, a lump in his throat. He hated when you looked at him that way. Because he knew that no matter what he did, you would always have that warmth in your eyes when you looked at him. You would always forgive him, no matter what he did.

Part of him wishes his dad could’ve met you.

You reach out and put your hand on his shoulder, trying not to overstep. Rafe stares down at your hand, so small in comparison to his shoulder. Something about it makes his chest tighten. It seems intimate, and he feels… safe. Safe with you. Which is a feeling he hasn't felt in God knows how long. 

His hand slowly lifts, his rough fingers wrapping around your wrist. He brings your hand to his face, cupping his cheek. Your thumb brushes over his cheek gently, back and forth.

God, the feeling of you touching him, comforting him, was too much. Your touch was too gentle and warm, and he hated that he wanted it. He hated the way his chest ached at the sight of your soft, kind expression. He had so many reasons he shouldn't be here, shouldn't be letting you touch him like this, and yet there was something inside of him, a small voice in the back of his mind, constantly begging him to please let you take care of him. “Can I ask you something?”

“‘Course.” You say softly. 

Rafe glances at you, eyes flicking between your hand and your face. God, he hated this. Your touch on his face, the tenderness in your voice, the look in your eyes. It was driving him absolutely insane. His eyes close, as if he was debating if he actually wanted to ask you this. “Am I poison? Am I poison in the water?”

“What do you mean?” You ask, eyebrows furrowing.

He opens his eyes again, hand still holding yours to his cheek. He holds your gaze, eyes softening. He hated how vulnerable he was, and yet there was a small piece of him, buried deep inside, that needed it. He could tell you anything right now, and you wouldn't judge him. You would just listen. Care. “Do I… poison everything I touch? Am I the poison that kills everything?”

“No, of course not,” You move closer to him on the couch. “Why would you ask that?”

God, he could smell you, your perfume a subtle, sweet scent that was driving him crazy. He closes his eyes as you move closer, and his jaw tightens. This was insane; he wasn't weak, he wasn't vulnerable, he did not need you. But then again, the hand on yours on his face had yet to move. “Because,” his voice drops to a whisper. “I know that I'm a sick, twisted bastard. I know that I make others sick. I hurt everyone I care about.”

“Rafe, I will admit you aren’t exactly the nicest guy,” You swallow roughly, unsure of what to even say. “But you still have people that care about you. Your friends, your sisters. They know the real Rafe, the guy underneath all the aggression.”

He lets out a long, shaky breath. God, he hated this. He hated being vulnerable. He hated opening up to you, and seeing that look of concern in your eyes. He wants to run, to close you out, leave and forget this ever happened. He wants to go back to treating you like one of his conquests, instead of feeling like he wanted you to hold him. But for some reason, his mouth wasn't listening to his brain. “But what about you?”

“Of course, I care about you,” You say. “I thought that would at least be obvious.”

He had a thousand different replies on the tip of his tongue, but instead his mouth just opened and closed, words dying when they left his lips. Everything in his mind was screaming at him to get up and leave, but there was a deeper part of him, a small piece of himself that he kept buried inside, deep in the back of his mind, that kept whispering, telling him to sit. It was the part that kept his hand on your wrist. He swallows hard, looking away. “I wish my dad was still here.”

“I know,” You say softly. “I’m sorry.”

He felt his eyes begin to sting, something that only added to his frustration. Frustration at himself, for being pathetic enough to cry. Frustration at you, for making him weak enough to cry. Frustration at Ward, for leaving him and his sisters behind. He suddenly hated everything. He hated you. He hated himself. He hated Ward for leaving him with feelings, making him weak. “I don't even know why I came here,” He mutters through gritted teeth. “I just... I wish I could've been good enough for him. I tried to be good.”

“You don’t know how Ward truly felt about you, Rafe.” You say, stroking his cheekbone again.

He hated the way you were comforting him, hated the way you were so gentle with him. He was always on the defensive, on the attack, so when someone was soft with him... Well, the way his chest ached was proof that it was something he wasn't used to. He swallows hard, closing his eyes. “But I do. His actions spoke louder than his damn words ever did,” He chuckles, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It's so stupid, you know, I... I used to pray I’d be like him, do everything that he did. And sometimes I still do.”

“That’s not stupid.” You say.

He lets his hand fall from your wrist, shaking his head. He hated talking about this, he hated admitting how much Ward’s death has messed him up. He didn’t want to talk, didn’t want to open up to anybody. The words leaving his lips, however, were not his own. “I hate that I don’t know if he was proud of me... I hate that I’ll never know if I did right by him.”

You remove your hand when he goes to cover his face. You watch him for a few moments, unsure of what to do, when you notice his shoulders shake. 

Is he crying?

Your eyes widen when you hear a sob rip through him, shoulders shaking up and down. “Hey, hey, Rafe, it’s okay. Don’t cry.”

He hated crying, absolutely hated it, but there he was, shoulders trembling, tears streaming down his cheeks. He couldn’t stop, no matter how hard he tried. “I’m not even- I…” His voice breaks, chest rattling. He lets out a long, shaky breath, shaking his head as he wipes away the tears from his cheeks. He couldn’t even look at you. He hated feeling so weak. Hated that you were seeing this side of him.

“It’s okay,” You put your arm around him, trying to hug him. “It’s okay--”

Rafe suddenly stands, pushing you back. “No. Don’t… don’t fucking pretend like you care.” He wipes his tears with the back of his hand, ashamed that he let Ward affect him this much. He was supposed to be strong. Powerful. Not weak.

“I’m not pretending.” You say, standing up.

His jaw tightens, his expression hardening into a sharp glare. God, he was tired of you, of your sweet words, of your gentle smiles. It was messing with his head, playing with his feelings. “Yeah, right.” He mutters, shaking his head. “You don’t care, don’t bullshit me.”

“Of course I care about you, Rafe,” You say, taking a step closer to him. “I… I lov--”

“No!” He suddenly snaps at you. He didn't want to hear that. He couldn't. “Don’t… don’t you dare,” You stare at him, confusion on your pretty little face, and it’s driving him fucking crazy. “Don’t. Don’t tell me. Keep that shit to yourself.”

You don’t know what to say, and you don’t want to upset him even more. You just nod, taking a step back.

He wanted to hit something. He wanted to break something. He hated the sight of that look on your face. The confusion, the worry, the disappointment. He didn’t understand. Why did you care? He didn’t deserve it, not one bit. What the hell did you think you’d get out of loving someone like him? That he’d love you back? That he’d change for you?

The silence is deafening. You want to say something, you just don’t know what. You take a shaky breath. “I’m here for you, Rafe. You know that. In any way you need me.”

“Why?” He asks suddenly, eyes meeting yours. “Why are you still here for me? Why do you care about me so goddamn much? Why can’t you just give up on me, like everyone else has?”

“Do I look like everyone else?” You ask.

Oh, but that was the problem. You were different. You were the only person in that damn town who was as sweet as you were patient. Who cared so god-damn much about someone so undeserving of that love. “Don’t you think I know that?” He asks, voice dropping to a whisper. “Don’t you think it pisses me off that you are the way you are?”

“I just want you to be happy, Rafe, and if I can make you happy, I want to.” You say.

Why did you have to be so goddamn sweet? It was driving him mad, the way you stood there, so willing and eager to do whatever it took to help him. He let out a long, shaky breath, staring down at you. “It was different when you were just some girl I was hooking up with.” He says, shaking his head.

“I’m still that girl,” You insist. “Nothing has to change. We can go back to normal. Forget this ever happened.”

His eyes narrow as you speak. He hated that you said that, hated how willing you were to forget the fact that he cried in front of you, and yet he hated himself for the fact that he almost wanted to agree. “Really?” He asks, his voice sharp. “You’d just… forget this? Go back to letting me use you, like nothing happened?”

“If that’s what you want.” You say.

He hated the idea of that. The idea of going back to using you. Of treating you like trash when he knew that you cared so damn much. 

Part of him liked hurting you, like watching you fall apart at his hands. But it was the other side of him that hated how good it felt at first, hated the pit of shame in his chest that grew each time you begged him to stay, or cried while he left, or looked at him like he meant the world to you.

Part of him knew you deserved better.

Rafe sighs, looking away. “Fine. We forget about this.”

“Okay.” You say, nodding.

The fact that you didn't say anything, that you didn't fight back, made his chest ache. God, he hated this. He wanted to yell at you. Wanted to push you down, pin you to the couch, and make you cry out his name. He wanted you to ask him to stay, fight him to prove to him that you cared. He hated how your willingness to forget it all made him want to wrap his arms around you. He couldn't stay. He would do something risky, something that he would regret in the morning. He sniffles, wiping his eyes again. “I'm gonna go.”

You swallow thickly. “If you’re sure. My door is always open.”

“Yeah,” He replies, his voice hoarse. He hated that your gentleness, your sweetness, still managed to get to him. He steps closer to you. He wanted to touch you again. To feel your warm, soft skin against his palm. But he knew better. He knew that if he touched you, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself. “Thanks for being there.” He mumbles, his voice cracking.

“Of course.” You smile softly.

He hates how your smile makes his chest ache, hates the tug it gives his heart. He hated how he cared about you, hated how he was so weak that he allowed himself to open up to you. And God, he hated how he was thinking about kissing your pretty, pouty lips. “I'll be back tomorrow night. Deal?”

“Deal.”

Rafe nods, licking his lips. He rocks back and forth on his feet before reaching out and cupping the back of your head, pressing his lips to your forehead. Enough to keep you hooked. “See you later, sweetheart.”

Your entire body is buzzing. “Drive safe.”

You’re still standing in the same spot when he leaves, shutting the door behind him.

And you will wait for the next time he wants you.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

blagh

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[anakinstwinklebunny]

HEAR ME OUT---

sam and reader run away one night, drive to another state, and get married... or something like that IDK

Author's note: I CANT BELIEVE I HAVE YOU IN MY INBOX 🤭🤭

SAM MONROE and you, wild and impulsive as ever, had that look in your eyes—one that screamed trouble and freedom all at once. Maybe it was your teenage years, maybe it was the light lack of your matureness. Yet, nonetheless, it started as a joke, as a random comment about leaving everything behind and doing something really crazy. But now, late at night, with the streets dead silent, you sit with Sam in his car, making sure your plans were right

“We could just... do it,” his voice low but charged. His hand drums nervously on the steering wheel “Like, right now. Nothing stopping us.”

You blink at him, heart racing. “You serious?”

He scoffs, but it’s almost too soft, too tender. “When am I not serious? Look" he sighed, turning his body so he'd look at you "I know I’m not... you know, perfect or whatever. But I love you. And if we’re gonna do it, why not now? No fancy crap, no one telling us what to do. Just us.”

Your chest tightened, lips curling into a shameless smile, and in that moment, you knew what to do “Okay. Let’s do it.”

His grin is boyish, mischievous, and so damn like Sam. He leaned over, planting a quick, messy kiss on your lips before throwing the car into gear. “Hold on, baby. We’re gonna find the shittiest chapel this side of nowhere.”

---

Hours later, the two of you stood under flickering fluorescent lights in some run-down chapel that smelled faintly of mildew. Sam’s hands were clammy as they hold yours, and his lips cracked into the softness smile when he repeated the vows. But his eyes—God, his eyes never leave yours.

The officiant hadn't even blinked at how young you both look, probably cause he already had seen worse, although he did judged sam's eye makeup with his eyes. Sam squeezed your hands when it’s his turn to say, «I do»

When it’s finally over, and you’re officially in the view of law his, he doesn’t wait for permission. He kissed you like the world’s ending, like it's all what matters right now. “We’re married,” he breathes against your lips, a little stunned, a little in awe.

“We’re married,” you echo, laughing as he picked you up, spinning you around in the middle of the dingy chapel.

It was far from being perfect. Heck, it was not even traditional. But that was the thing, you and Sam, messy, reckless, and somehow full of teenage love.

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[writing-whenever-whatever]

Little song bird-we will create and nurture a new Rome

Geta x reader x Caracalla 

Part 1 part2 part3 part 4 part 5

Summary: after getting home you and geta soon get into a slight conflict hurtful things are said and you end up upset but will he ever apologise 

Warnings : argument, injury, talk of abuse, apologies, mansplaining, sweet Caracalla , slight threat.

———————————————————————

Once I’m bathed and clean I’m sat in my bed chamber in only a towel as the healer sits tending the gash in my thigh using different ointments and oils to clean it, 

“ you must be careful when doing such reckless things my lady” he lectures his voice holding priority as he looks at me “ you could have seriously hurt yourself “ he adds on as I look at him” tis only a cut I see no damage done “ I scoff looking down at the man “ I do not need lectures to understand what I should and shouldn’t do” I smile slightly looking at the man who bandages my leg.

 “ you needn’t bother “ my hand landing to rest on top of his stopping him from wrapping my leg up any tighter “ it’s not even bleeding anymore “ I reassure him as he looks at me “ you’re a wild woman empress, you’ll be well suited at the emperors sides” he smiles up at me just as the doors open both brothers walking in “ ah ,your leg how is it” Geta asks meeting my bed side “ it is fine” I smile as he rests a tender hand on my shoulder “ its only a small tear in the flesh it’ll heal quickly and leave a small scar” the healer adds not looking up at the emperors as he talks “ good nothing to serious” Caracalla chuckles as he lays next to me on my bed 

his head tilting to look down  at me “ you should be more careful “ he scolds playfully tapping my cheek with each syllable a grin beaming down at me as Geta pulls my chin to look at me “ he’s right you know “ his eyebrows furrow slightly tone more serious

“what if he attacked you after you did such a delusional thing” he looks at me my head moves to look downwards “ but he didn’t” I mumble “ song bird” geta pulls my attention back up to him his  voice stern “ I’m not sure what they do at your place of birth but here ladies don’t start fights “ I grit my teeth at this “ don’t bring my birth place into this” I look at him “ and maybe if women put more of fight up there’d be less cases of ladies being attacked and defiled in Rome. I will not fall a victim just because I’m told I should be a lady” I pull my head away from him “ is this what your pathetic little meeting was about, trying to bring me down to reality well if you want a perfect little Roman wife then go a head and find one because you will not find her in me” I stand up glaring at Geta as I push past him and walk out of my bedchambers 

“ that’s not what I meant , darling come back” Geta yells out just to be ignored by me as I walk into the private gardens sitting under a gathering of trees hidden from the windows that stare down at the gardens I can’t help but pull my knees up to my chest

Talking to myself “ if they wish to love me so much they’ll have to learn my ways I will not be pushed around “ I mumble to myself 

I stay sat there in the gardens for hours the sun has gone down and the air has a bitter chill I’m still only wrapped in a towel from my bath and I’ve started to feel exhausted, my head resting back on the tree as my eyes flutter shut feeling so heavy I can’t help but give in to sleep, as I drift off I feel strong arms wrap around me and lift me up off the floor carrying me back inside the clinking of armour hitting the floor with each step “ I found her emperors” a gruff voice states “ take her to her chamber let her rest but keep her room heavily guarded we don’t want our song bird flying away” geta looks at me a stern look on his face as he runs his hand over my relaxed cheek “ why must you make things difficult “ he whispers under his breath before placing a kiss on my forehead then the guard carries me back to my bed chamber laying me back on the bed and pulling the blankets over me tucking me in.

———————————————————————

When I wake up I’m curled up in the centre of the bed I pull the covers over my head trying to block out the sun that pours in through the window. I haven’t forgotten what happened last night every time I think about it my heart sinks in my chest making me feel sick, but I’m not gonna back down he was in the wrong.

I stay laying in bed even when my maids come rushing into my room I roll onto my side ignoring them “ my lady it’s time to get up” she speaks to mr her voice trying to be gentle “ I’m not getting up today I’m staying here” I mumble quietly “ leave me “ I order as they stand in their place watching as I just lay there “ are you not feeling well my lady” she asks “ I’m fine just go” I look at them a stern look in my eyes as they quickly rush out.

———————————————————————

My key maid rushes to getas room where both emperors are sat discussing over wine and breakfast she knocks on the door waiting patiently “ enter” Geta calls out turning to see her as she enters the room “ emperors I’m afraid the empress is refusing to get up she doesn’t wish to be disturbed” she looks down bowing her head “ we will come see her soon till then just let her rest” Geta sighs turning back to Caracalla “ gods she’s stubborn “ he grunts taking a swig from his cup “ you were harsh on her last night” Caracalla looks at him as getas eyebrows furrow “ how I simply stated facts” he takes a sip of wine “ you spoke of her heritage as if she was a barbarian brother” he moves forward “ you upset her” he gets up “ i will go see her with dundus, she seems to cheer her up” he looks at Geta “ go ahead I will join you later” he states looking at his brother “ perhaps this time alone for her will make her realise the severity of her unladylike actions” Geta goes on making Caracalla role his eyes “ Oh please, the only reason you say such things is because of the senators in that boring meeting after we got home told you she needed to change. but deep down you know she really doesn’t it’s Rome that needs change” he walks out the room leaving Geta to think alone. 

———————————————————————

The door to my room cracks open as Caracalla peaks through “ my love are you awake” he questions looking at my sprawled out body on the bed he steps in dundus sat on his shoulder “ I brought someone to see you” he leans on the end of the bed looking over me as I lay silently not responding “ I know you’re upset I’m sorry for what Geta said I have talked to him but he is stubborn” I peak up at Caracalla “ I’m a savage compared to your Roman ladies, that is what he thinks” I mumble quietly “ not at all my love “ he lets dundus crawl up curling up next to me burning her small head into the crook of my neck “ Geta listens to the senators to much “ Caracalla explains looking at me “ darling understand your outburst yesterday and I thought it was one of the most beautiful things ive ever seen” he moves laying next to me his hand running along my cheek “ it’s ok to have outburst “ he looks at me “ trust me i know from personal experiences “ he smiles pulling me into his arms gently  “ you seem to be the only one to understand that” I mumble quietly resting my head on his chest as Caracalla runs his hand through my hair “ geta knows it but he just needs time for his reasoning to kick back in and for him to block out the mind fucking the senate gave him” he holds me gently letting me stay close to him listening to his rapid heart rate as dundus chirps for attention climbing over to Caracallas shoulder where she rests her self 

A few hours pass of me and caracalla laying together talking as the door cracks open and geta walks in “ song bird ” his voice quiet as he walks towards the bed looking at me snuggled in his brothers arms “ listen i did not mean what i said last night but you do need to be more careful of your actions” i peak up at him slightly “ acting so impulsively can get you in danger and i only want you safe” I sit up “ ok i admitted my actions were wrong back in the chariot after they happened “ i look at him “ then you started on me later that evening so i think you owe me an apology “ i raise a stern eye brow as he sighs “ that is what I am trying to do “ he states looking at me “ good” 

i look at him waiting to hear the word sorry to spill from his lips but he seems to leave me waiting “a good emperor knows when to admit his wrongs perhaps you aren’t as good as i thought you were” I sigh shaking my head as Geta stares at me shocked “ how dare y..” I cut him off quickly “ there we’ve both said something hurtful, maybe this can be over” I let a loose laugh fall looking at him “ fine” he looks at me “ I’m sorry” he huffs moving to my side of the bed 

“ see wasn’t that hard” I watch him roll his eyes before joining both me and Caracalla laying on the bed “ I’ve cancelled all our duties for today perhaps we could go for a walk or perhaps we can just stay right here” Geta looks at me as he runs his thumb down my jaw “ perhaps “ I smile at him as I snuggle between both emperors getting comfortable. I look at both men a small smile on my face “ all couples have arguments, it’ll just help us learn how to understand each other more” I rest my head back on the pillow “ tis only a few days till the wedding, so it’s best we learn as much as possible “ I suggest my voice coming out with a deep sigh Geta looks at me “ I don’t wish to argue “ he looks at me “if you want to know something just ask “ Caracalla adds his hand reaching out mine his fingers entangling with mine 

As the day goes on  we lay together talking getting to know each other deeper than before. I learn about how their father was abusive he refused to interact with the boys other than putting them against each other making them fight till one was passed out on the floor the only time he suggested they worked together was on his death bed. Then their mother a sweet woman who loved her boys would tend to them when keeping them safe against their fathers wrath they were devastated when she passed from an unknown illness she slowly faded away in front of the boys eyes. 

How I wish I could have met their mother she sounded like a loving woman, she sounded like the perfect Roman wife who provided everything a family needed love, understanding and boundaries she knew how to calm her children and her husband  she knew everything but some how I question if I’m expected to be like that. 

As both Geta and Caracalla  were already very aware of my home life, how I was treated by my father and his men so I told them other things. They learn that I could play the harp that id sit during dinners at home playing my harp non stop plucking the strings entertaining others as they ate and talked. I also told them about my love for animals that at home I had dogs they were more wild than the ones that lived in Rome but I trained them, fed them spoke to them, loved them even. but I was forced to leave them behind as my father refused to let me take them with me to Rome. 

“ is there anything you can’t do” Caracalla smirks staring off into the distance “ your like a goddess sent down just for us” he runs his hand over my thigh “don’t be silly there are many things I can not do” I giggle sweetly “ like what” gets asks looking at me his eye brow raised “ you can play instruments, speak perfect Latin, your good with a blade, you are kind to the public, good with animals. what can’t you do” he looks at me “ I can not read” I look down slightly “ there was never a need to at home, but I would always try and just seemed to fail” I sigh as both emperors look at each other exchanging a glance “ there isn’t a need for you to read my love, we shall read to you” Caracallas voice is gentle as he holds me  his hand striking my cheek  “ thank you” I blush as I close my eyes feeling the safety around me “ I will always try my best to be a good wife, I apologise if I fail” I yawn quietly pulling my blankets back over me “ you’ll never fail us my love” geta reassures sweetly 

“ but do not run away again or we may have to clip your wings” he adds his voice more serious as he plays with my hair, I open my eyes again looking at him slightly concerned “ hush now do not worry” Caracalla cooed quietly as he looks down at me Geta kisses the back of my neck his nose resting against my shoulder trying to sooth my anxiety and distract me from his warning “ you’ll be perfect” he mutters his voice vibrating against my skin causing goose bumps to form “ Rome will adapt to your ways, we will create and nurture a new Rome” Caracalla looks at me a grin beaming in his face I blush violently as I burry my face into his shoulder his hands lace into my hair holding me close pulling me away from Geta and for filling his selfish need to have me to himself, as Geta reaches out to touch me again Caracallas eyes fog over with a warning look he holds me possessively my head against his bare chest. I can hear his soothing heart beat ringing through my ears calming me completely with out me even realising the sound soon has me drifting back into a reassuring sleep. 

————————————————————————

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@marsmallow433 @fionaapplelover2010

[potato-frenzy]

Strongly considering writing this Jayvik AU that has rather taken on a life of it's own in my head. I call it the Teen Pregnancy AU, on account of it involves Jayce meeting Viktor when they're sixteen and seventeen respectively and promptly knocking him up.

There's some variations on it, there's the biblically accurate one that that i haven't fully worked out the logistics of. But the one I most often think about is the version where Viktor was found by Vander after running away from Singed. Immediately brought home to a very confused Silco and they start their parenting journey much sooner.

Anyway, basically Jayce gets talk into going into the undercity by some shithead classmates because they serve you regardless of age if you have coin. Vander is watering down bozos drinks but they get rowdy anyway and Jayce breaks it up. That gets Vander's respect and he gives him the good stuff as a nod. So Jayce is tipsy when he sees Viktor doing some busy work across the bar. He marches his awkward ass over and asks to kiss him before he's even gotten a name and Viktor is too charmed by this beautiful boy to say no. Viktor drags his ass up to Vander's office and they end up screwing like bunnies before Jayce is badgered into going home by his 'friends'.

Viktor thinks little of the encounter save for it being a great lay despite the alcohol. That is until he's puking his guts out at all hours of the day almost two months later for no reason. And he doesn't think deeply about it because he's usually getting sick but food starts to smell/taste weird and the crying fits start. Vi and Powder are around seven and four at this point so Vander and Silco know a thing or two about small children and pregnant people. Their trans son is struggling though so they discuss options and Viktor decides to keep it, despite knowing how hard it'll be.

The pregnancy is hell and probably accelerates some underlying medical complications but he manages to have an otherwise healthy baby girl. Healthy apart from being born blind. Viktor pushes through, determined to make a good life for his daughter. He names her Ninati and she's a few months old when he gets into the academy. Vander makes sure there's enough community around Viktor to make sure he can pursue his path. If anyone can climb out on brains alone it's his twiggy genius.

And Viktor does it, he gets through school and establishes himself in Piltover. He has an apartment and childcare figured out by the time the day of ash happens. He's twenty and has to find out that one of his parents is missing and the girls who were basically his sisters are now orphaned and under Vander's care. Viktor considers quitting and moving back to help but Vander tells him to stay where he is because he's got a chance up there.

It's five years of raising his daughter, all the challenges a disabled child on top of your own disability. Occasionally crossing the bridge to bring some spare groceries and treats for the kids. Who now number four instead of just two. It may be unsatisfying and nothing close to the path he was aiming for when it came to being a scientist.

But one day Heimerdinger tells him there's been an explosion and he gives him a list to supervise the removal of dangerous materials. So he goes, thinking it'll be a late night but not a hard one. And then he walks into that workshop and sees the father of his child is the one responsible and concussed. He stays professional and tries not to let some old feelings come creeping in. Of course all that is quickly unimportant when he sees the theorems written on the bored and the wild equipment scattered around.

He's intrigued and drawn to this man for reasons now wholly unconnected to the seven year old that he had asked a colleague to watch for him. He watches the trial, curiosity growing by the moment, he looks at the man's notes and is captivated.

Viktor stays calm and collected the whole evening, through talking Jayce off that ledge and the poor man finally recognizing him. The hours they spend on the theory, working out the kinks, he doesn't bring up that they have a child. Jayce does comment on the bedroom line when they break into the office and he can't deny the attraction is still there.

They make magic. Actual magic and they're promised a chance to prove that this technology is worth the risk. Viktor's cane was used to barricade the door so he asks Jayce to help him get home. They're riding high on adrenaline and success and Viktor invites him inside. The colleague is sent home and promised muffins for the trouble.

Jayce is confused about that, he was so swept up the whole evening. The most beautiful boy he's ever seen sweeping back into his life after eight years to prove his theories work like a goddamn miracle. When Viktor invited him in, he was expecting a drink and an opportunity to make good on what he promised himself he'd do for years. When Viktor beckons him into a darkened bedroom and shown a sleeping child, he's taken aback. He thinks something completely different until Viktor says she's theirs. Her name is Ninati.

Jayce is shell shocked and barely registers Viktor saying that he is not required to be a parent to her if he is not willing and that they need to establish some boundaries for their partnership going forward. Jayce practically pounces on Viktor, telling him that there's no way he's gonna be a deadbeat now that he has the man of his dreams in his arms. They end up quietly screwing in Viktor's room and in the morning Jayce gets introduced to his daughter properly.

The seven year time skip is pretty nebulous but I know a few beats, one of which is them being sort of co-parents with benefits for a few months because they're shit at talking about feelings. And then Jayce proposes out of the blue in a park one day and Viktor is exasperated but says yes. They get married and sometime after try and fail to have another baby. So in Act II, they have a fourteen year old daughter who is as much their pride as Hextech and the events therein become much more tragic.

I still need to work out how Vander's death and Silco's takeover effect Viktor in this instance because he's their fucking kid too. But yeah, this is THE AU in my brain currently.

[staygolden-and-chaotic]

Here's another one, the outsiders boys having to babysit I feel it would be cute n hectic

Sincerely

The greaser who's bad at ideas aka bug

STAWP HI BUG! Okay love this idea.

Sincerely

Someone who barley can write and truly tries to wing it.

_________________________________________________

Darrel Curtis

At first, Darry hesitates when his partner asks him to babysit. He’s already used to wrangling Ponyboy and Sodapop, so the idea of watching over a baby feels like unfamiliar territory. But he agrees because, let’s face it, he’s a total softie when it comes to them.

Before they arrives, Darry goes into full protective mode. He double checks the sharp edges of furniture, hides any dangerous objects, and makes sure the baby’s play area is safe. Soda and Pony think he’s overdoing it and tease him relentlessly.

The moment there dropped off, Darry immediately slips into big brother mode. He approaches babysitting like it’s a job careful, responsible, and always on high alert.

He’s great with his brothers, but with a baby, he’s initially stiff and awkward. Holding them feels like balancing a football, and he’s overly cautious with every move. “Am I doing this right?” becomes his most used phrase of the day.

Seeing Darry struggle, Soda jumps in to help. He’s a natural with kids and instantly gets the baby laughing. Darry watches him and starts to loosen up, slowly building confidence.

To Darry’s surprise (and mild frustration), the baby seems to adore Ponyboy. Every time Pony walks into the room, they giggle and reaches for him, making Darry mutter, “Well, I guess I’m chopped liver.”

When the baby gets fussy, Darry tells them stories about when he was a kid. His deep voice and animated expressions captivate them, and soon enough, there calm and smiling.

At some point, things inevitably go wrong. The baby manages to knock over a bowl of cereal or spill juice on his shirt. Darry sighs but quickly cleans up, grumbling about how “this is harder than roofing.”

Getting them to nap is a whole ordeal. Darry tries rocking them, singing softly, and even reading them one of Pony’s books. When nothing works, he finally gets Soda to lend a hand, and together they manage to get the baby to sleep.

Once there asleep, Darry can’t help but feel a wave of pride. He watches the baby sleep for a moment, realizing he’s not as bad at this babysitting thing as he thought.

When his partner comes to pick up the baby , they find Darry on the floor playing peek-a-boo. They teases him about how good he is with kids, and his ears turn red. “It’s no big deal,” he mumbles, trying to play it cool.

Despite his initial reluctance, Darry secretly enjoyed the experience. Later, he jokes to Soda and Pony that babysitting is harder than dealing with a gang fight, but they catch the small smile on his face.

Sodapop Curtis

When his partner asks him to babysit there baby sister, Sodapop is all in. He’s confident, saying, “Babies love me. This’ll be a breeze!” His natural charm and easygoing attitude make him feel like he’s got it under control.

The second the baby is dropped off, Soda crouches to her level and starts playing peek-a-boo. She giggles instantly, and he grins, already winning her over.

Soda is an absolute pro without even trying. He carries the baby around like he’s been doing it forever, bouncing her on his hip and chatting with her like she’s an old friend.

He’s full of energy, so he spends the first hour making goofy faces, crawling around on the floor, and chasing her with a stuffed animal. The baby is laughing so hard she gets the hiccups.

When he runs out of actual toys, Soda starts grabbing random household items a wooden spoon, a shoelace, and even an empty cereal box to entertain her. Somehow, it works like a charm.

He tries to read her a children’s book, but halfway through, he starts making up his own silly story. It’s full of exaggerated voices and wild gestures, which keeps the baby mesmerized.

At some point, Soda turns on the radio and starts dancing with the baby in his arms. He spins her around, and she squeals with delight. Pony walks in and shakes his head, muttering, “You’re ridiculous.”

When it’s snack time, Soda carefully feeds her small bites of food while pretending each spoonful is an airplane or a train. He ends up with more food on his shirt than in her mouth, but he doesn’t mind.

When she gets fussy, Soda knows exactly what to do. He gently rocks her while humming a tune, pacing around the house until she calms down. He even lets her play with his hair, despite her pulling it a little too hard.

Darry and Pony can’t resist checking in. Darry watches for a minute, impressed, while Pony teases, “You’re gonna make a great dad someday, Soda.” Soda just grins and says, “I know!”

Unlike Pony, Soda handles diaper changes like a champ. He jokes to the baby, “This ain’t my first rodeo, kid,” even though it probably is. Somehow, he manages to keep it neat and quick.

When it’s nap time, Soda grabs a blanket and lays on the couch with the baby on his chest. He hums softly, and she falls asleep almost immediately. He stays there, not wanting to disturb her, and quietly dozes off himself.

When his partner arrives, they finds Soda asleep on the couch with the baby snuggled up on him. Soda wakes up groggily and just gives her that charming grin.

After they leave, Pony and Darry tease him mercilessly, saying he’s basically already a dad. Soda just shrugs and says, “What can I say? I’ve got a gift.”

Ponyboy Curtis

Ponyboy has zero experience with babies, so when his partner asks him to babysit there baby sister, he’s immediately nervous but agrees because he wants to impress her.

The night before, Pony stays up reading a book about babysitting. He even asks Darry for advice, which Darry delivers with a smirk: “Just don’t drop her, Pony.”

Soda reassures him in the morning, saying, “You’ll be fine, Pony. Babies are just tiny humans with drool.” This somehow doesn’t make him feel better.

The moment his girlfriend drops her off, Pony realizes how small the baby is. He’s extra cautious, holding her like she’s made of glass. But when she starts crying, he panics and runs to Soda for help.

Pony tries to entertain her by reading Gone with the Wind, but the baby is more interested in chewing on the pages than listening. He quickly swaps the book out for a rattle.

When she starts crying again, Pony picks her up and starts pacing. He talks to her about his brothers, the gang, and even his favorite movies. To his surprise, she quiets down and stares at him like she’s actually listening.

While the baby is playing with her toys, Pony tries to sneak in some writing time. Unfortunately, she gets fussy every time he looks away, so he has to ditch his notebook and give her his full attention.

Pony is absolutely blown away by how adorable the baby is. When she giggles or reaches for his face, he can’t help but smile and play peek-a-boo with her, despite feeling silly.

At one point, Dally stops by and sees Pony struggling. He smirks and says, “Just let her cry it out, Ponyboy. Babies need tough love.” Pony ignores him completely and shoos him away.

Pony’s artistic side kicks in when he starts drawing silly pictures for the baby. She claps her hands excitedly at the funny doodles, and he feels a little proud that he can make her happy.

When the baby needs a diaper change, Pony freezes in horror. He calls out for Soda, but Soda just laughs and says, “It’s all you, Pony!” After some fumbling and gagging, he manages to get it done, though he swears never to do it again.

After hours of playing and entertaining her, the baby finally falls asleep in his arms. Pony sits on the couch, afraid to move in case he wakes her up. He can’t help but feel a little proud of himself.

When his partner comes to pick up there sister, they find Pony sitting quietly with the baby asleep in his arms. There melts on the spot, calling him “the sweetest.” Pony’s cheeks turn red as he mumbles, “It wasn’t a big deal.”

As soon as his partner leaves, Darry and Soda jump at the chance to tease him. “Looks like you’re a natural, Ponyboy,” Soda says with a wink. Pony rolls his eyes but secretly feels a bit proud.

Johnny Cade

He’s hesitant at first. He’s never babysat before and doesn’t feel confident, but he agrees because he wants to help her out and because he secretly loves kids.

When the baby is dropped off, Johnny is shy but gentle. He kneels down to her level and gives her a small smile, saying, “Hey there, kiddo.” She stares at him for a moment before giggling, which makes him relax a bit.

Johnny triple checks everything to make sure it’s safe. He keeps the baby’s toys nearby, makes sure there’s nothing sharp within reach, and keeps looking over his shoulder to make sure she’s okay.

Johnny sits on the floor with her and carefully hands her toys one by one. He’s soft spoken, quietly narrating what he’s doing to keep her entertained. “This one’s a bear. You like bears, right?”

The first time the baby laughs at something he does probably making a funny face Johnny’s whole demeanor brightens. He starts trying different little tricks to keep her giggling.

Anytime the baby stumbles while crawling or gets fussy, Johnny is there in a heartbeat, making sure she’s okay. He’s super attentive, constantly keeping an eye on her.

Johnny grabs one of Ponyboy’s books and starts reading softly to the baby. His quiet voice soothes her, even if she doesn’t understand the words. He feels proud when she snuggles into him during the story.

When the baby starts crying for no apparent reason, Johnny panics a little. He tries everything rocking her, giving her a toy, even singing softly. Eventually, he figures out she just wanted her bottle and feels relieved.

As the baby starts to calm down, she reaches for Johnny’s face, touching his cheeks and hair. He chuckles nervously but lets her, feeling an unexpected warmth at how much trust she has in him.

When it’s time to change her diaper, Johnny freezes and quietly mutters, “I can do this. I can do this.” He ends up calling Ponyboy for help, and together they manage to get it done, with plenty of laughter and gagging involved.

When it’s time for her nap, Johnny rocks her gently in his arms, humming a soft tune. His soothing presence works wonders, and she falls asleep against his chest. He feels a mix of pride and relief.

when the gang finds out, Dally teases Johnny, saying, “Didn’t know you had it in you, Johnnycake.” Johnny just shrugs with a small smile, secretly proud of how well he did.

Dallas Winston

“ A baby? C’mon, babe, I’m not a damn nanny.” But they gives him that look, and Dally, despite his tough-guy exterior, can’t say no.

Dally doesn’t plan anything. He figures, “How hard can it be?” Spoiler: It’s harder than he thought.

The baby stares at him the moment there dropped off, and Dally stares right back. “What’re you lookin’ at, kid?” he mutters.

Dally refuses to use baby talk. Instead, he talks to her like she’s one of his friends. “Alright, kid, let’s get this over with. Don’t cry, and we’ll be fine.”

Within minutes, the baby is crawling everywhere, pulling on things, and grabbing at his leather jacket. Dally sighs, picks her up, and says, “You’re a real handful, you know that?”

Dally ends up entertaining her in the most Dallas way possible. He tosses her in the air (carefully, of course) and makes silly faces while pretending he’s too cool to care. She squeals with laughter, and he secretly loves it.

He tries feeding her but has no patience for the mess. When she throws her food on the floor, he groans and mutters, “You’re worse than Two-Bit after a bender.” Still, he cleans it up though he grumbles the whole time.

At some point, Dally teaches the baby something mischievous, like how to stick her tongue out or the middle finger . When she copies him, he grins proudly. “You’re gonna be a little hood, just like me.”

When the baby starts crying out of nowhere, Dally freezes. “What the hell do you want?!” he blurts out, pacing the room. He tries bouncing her awkwardly and even calls Johnny for advice. Eventually, he figures out she just needed her stuffed animal.

Despite his tough exterior, Dally has a natural way with the baby. When she gets tired, he sits on the couch, holding her against his chest, quietly humming an old tune. He doesn’t even realize how gentle he’s being.

Two-Bit and Johnny stop by and immediately start teasing Dally about being a babysitter. “Never thought I’d see the day,” Two-Bit says, laughing. Dally chases them out, muttering, “Idiots.”

When the baby finally falls asleep, Dally feels like he’s won a battle. He sits still, afraid to move, and mumbles, “You’re lucky you’re cute, kid.”

When his partner comes back, they finds Dally holding the baby, who’s still asleep. They raises an eyebrow and smirks. “Didn’t think you had it in you.” Dally shrugs and says, “Yeah, well, don’t get used to it.”

Dally plays it cool. “Babies are easy,” he says with a smirk, leaving out the chaotic moments. But they all know he’s secretly a softie when it comes to people he cares about.

Steve Randle

He immediately says, “Of course I can handle it! How hard could it be?” He’s convinced he’s going to be the best babysitter ever.

When the baby is dropped off, Steve tries to impress his partner by acting super confident. “See? She already loves me!” he says as the baby stares at him. She immediately pulls on his hair, and Steve laughs it off like it’s no big deal.

Steve spends the first ten minutes holding the baby and telling her all about cars. “This is an engine,” he says, showing her a car magazine “Someday, I’ll teach you how to fix one.”

It doesn’t take long for the baby to start crawling around and getting into things. Steve tries to keep up, muttering, “You’re faster than I thought, kid.”

Steve’s idea of babysitting is showing the baby all the “cool” things he can do, like balancing a spoon on his nose or spinning her toy in the air. She claps her hands excitedly, and he beams. “Told ya I’m good at this!”

When it’s time to feed her, Steve ends up making a mess. He tries to feed her while making airplane noises, but she smacks the spoon, and the food goes flying. “Okay, that’s on you, not me,” he says, laughing.

At one point, Steve pulls out a small wrench and pretends to “teach” the baby how to fix things. “This is how you tighten a bolt,” he says. The baby grabs the wrench and tries to chew on it, and he quickly swaps it for a teething toy.

When the inevitable diaper change comes, Steve groans. “Alright, how bad could it- OH, COME ON!” He powers through, making faces and jokes the whole time, but he’s gagging the entire time.

Steve grabs a comb and a piece of paper, making a makeshift kazoo. He plays silly tunes for the baby, who giggles and bounces along. He grins and says, “You’ve got good taste, kid.”

When the baby starts crying and he can’t figure out why, Steve calls Sodapop for advice. “What do I do? She’s crying, and I’ve tried everything!” Soda calmly tells him to check if she’s tired or needs her stuffed animal. Steve follows the advice, and it works like a charm.

As much as Steve acts like he’s all about fun, he has a sweet, nurturing side. When the baby starts to get sleepy, he gently rocks her and hums quietly, surprising even himself with how natural it feels.

When his partner comes they smiles and say “Looks like you had fun.” Steve grins and says, “Told ya I could handle it.”

Twobit Mathews

Twobit grins and says, “I’ll have her cracking up in no time. I’m basically a comedian for babies.” He’s way too confident for someone with no experience.

The second the baby is dropped off, TwoBit starts pulling faces and making silly noises. The baby stares at him for a moment before bursting into laughter. “See? Told ya I’m a natural,” he says proudly.

TwoBit immediately gets distracted playing with the baby’s toys himself. “This thing spins? That’s wild!” The baby doesn’t mind she just watches him with wide eyed fascination.

When it’s time to feed her, Two-Bit pretends to host a cooking show. “And here we have the finest mashed peas, perfect for a baby connoisseur.” He ends up with food on his shirt, but the baby thinks it’s hilarious.

TwoBit turns on cartoons, claiming it’s for the baby, but he’s the one laughing the loudest. The baby just sits on his lap, occasionally pointing at the screen while TwoBit says, “Oh, that guy? He’s gonna slip on a banana peel. Watch!”

When the baby starts crying, TwoBit doesn’t panic. He immediately launches into full-on clown mode, using exaggerated voices and pretending to trip over the furniture. The baby can’t help but giggle.

TwoBit encourages a bit of chaos, like teaching the baby how to blow raspberries or make a funny noise with her lips. When she copies him, he laughs so hard he nearly falls over. “You’re my kinda kid!”

When it’s diaper time, TwoBit groans and mutters, “Why didn’t anyone warn me about this part?” He tries to pawn it off on Johnny or Ponyboy if they’re nearby, but when they refuse, he tackles it himself, gagging dramatically the whole time.

TwoBit finds a baby hat or some funny clothes and tries them on her. “Look at you, kid! Stylin’ and profilin’!” He might even put on her little sunglasses and take a Polaroid.

Instead of reading a regular baby book, TwoBit decides to tell her a completely made up story full of wild exaggerations. “And then the brave knight me, of course- defeated the dragon with a rubber chicken!” The baby claps, even if she doesn’t understand a word.

Despite his joking nature, TwoBit can’t help but melt a little when the baby grabs his finger or giggles at something he does. “You’re kinda cute, you know that?” he says with a smile.

When the baby refuses to nap, TwoBit tries everything rocking her, singing (badly), and even pretending to nap himself. Eventually, she falls asleep, but not before he mutters, “You’re one stubborn little thing.”

When his partner comes back, the house is a bit of a mess, with toys and snacks everywhere. But the baby is happy and giggling, and Two Bit is sitting on the floor with a juice box in one hand and a toy in the other. “Don’t worry, babe, I handled it,” he says with a wink.

Tim Shepard

He raises an eyebrow and says, “Babysit? You know I don’t do kids.”

He finally agrees after much begging.

: At first, Tim is all business. He picks the baby up awkwardly, holding her at arm’s length, and mutters, “Alright, kid, don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

Despite his tough demeanor, Tim quickly becomes hyper aware of the baby’s safety. He moves sharp objects, makes sure she’s nowhere near the edge of the couch, and keeps a watchful eye on her every move.

Tim isn’t great at playing, but he gives it a shot. He shakes a rattle a little too aggressively, and when the baby giggles, he smirks. “You like that, huh? Simple taste, kid.”

When it’s time to feed her, Tim approaches it like a mission. “Here’s your mushy food,” he says, spooning it into her mouth with surprising patience. If she spits it out, he mutters, “You’re lucky I like you.”

When the baby starts crying, Tim doesn’t panic. He’s used to dealing with chaos. He picks her up, rocks her gently, and says, “What’s the problem, huh? You’ll be alright.” His calm voice works wonders.

Though he’s not as openly playful as TwoBit, Tim has a dry sense of humor. “You got it easy, kid. No bills, no fights, and everyone feeds you. Must be nice.”

The baby grabs his finger at one point, and Tim freezes for a moment, unsure of what to do. When she smiles up at him, he chuckles softly and says, “You’re not so bad, are you?”

Tim approaches diaper changing like it’s a battlefield. “How can something so small make this big of a mess?” he grumbles. He gets it done quickly, though, proving he’s efficient even in unfamiliar territory.

Tim playfully holds her hands and says, “Alright, kid, let’s toughen you up. Gotta be ready for the world.” He pretends to teach her how to punch, lightly bumping her tiny fists against his hand.

When the baby gets sleepy, Tim sits in a rocking chair and holds her against his chest. He hums quietly an old tune his mom used to sing and feels a rare sense of peace.

Cool: Tim acts like babysitting was no big deal, shrugging and saying, “It wasn’t hard.” But his partner notices the way he glances at the baby with a hint of pride.

Later, Tim tells Curly about the experience, saying, “Kids aren’t so bad. She’s tougher than most people I know.” Curly just laughs and teases him for going soft.

Curly Shepard

Curly scoffs and says, “You gotta be kidding me. I don’t do diapers.” But when they gives him a serious look, he rolls his eyes and mutters, “Fine. But don’t expect me to enjoy it.”

Curly has no idea what to do when the baby is dropped off. He stares at her like she’s a bomb about to go off. “So… what do you do all day, huh? Cry and drool?”

When the baby reaches for him and giggles, Curly smirks despite himself. “You think I’m funny, huh? Guess you’re smarter than you look.”

Curly’s first instinct is to teach the baby something sneaky, like how to stick her tongue out or make funny noises. When she copies him, he laughs and says, “You’re gonna be a troublemaker, just like me.”

Feeding her is a disaster. Curly doesn’t bother with baby spoons; he tries to feed her straight from the jar. When she spits it out, he shrugs. “Can’t blame ya. This stuff’s gross.”

Curly gets a little too into playing. He pretends to wrestle with her stuffed animals, making exaggerated growling noises, which makes her laugh hysterically. “See? You’ve got good taste in fun.”

When the baby needs a diaper change, Curly freezes. “Oh, no. I am not doing that.” But when he realizes there’s no one else around, he reluctantly handles it, muttering, “This better be the last time.”

When the baby starts crying, Curly panics and says, “What’s wrong now? You were just fine!” He tries bouncing her on his hip, rocking her, and even bribing her with toys. Eventually, he figures out she just wanted her pacifier.

Curly talks to the baby like she’s one of the gang. “Alright, kid, here’s the deal you don’t cry, and I’ll make sure you have a good time.” The baby seems to go along with it, and he grins. “Smart kid.”

Despite his tough exterior, Curly can’t help but melt a little when the baby cuddles up to him. He quietly mutters, “You’re kinda cute, you know that?”

If Tim or another member of the gang stops by and sees him babysitting, they immediately start teasing him. “Look at you, Curly, Mr. Mom!” Curly scowls and says, “Shut up. She likes me better than you, anyway.”

Curly makes up wild stories about being a tough hood, complete with sound effects and dramatic gestures. The baby doesn’t understand a word but claps her hands excitedly.

When the baby starts rubbing her eyes, Curly puts her down in her crib and sits next to her until she falls asleep. “Finally. I thought you’d never quit,” he mutters, though he’s secretly proud he managed to calm her down.

When his partner comes back, they finds Curly sitting on the couch, looking exhausted but smug. “See? I kept her alive,” he says with a smirk.

[a-998h]

Translated using Google: Of the sagau mmm it could first be the behavior of mavuika trying to retain her creator for herself and her nation since his mere presence stabilizes the ley lines (which makes it ultra important

So the original SAGAU series I wrote was before Natlan was released so this can be seen as a mini chapter.

Reader's POV

Well, I'm fucked. I wanted to escape Sumeru, but now I'm in the desert. A group of Eremites had found and given me water. But they seemed to know Dehya, which poses a problem for me. The desert is a wild terrain that goes from a fiery pit of Hell to icy cold wasteland in a day. But, at this point I really didn't care. So, I snuck out and ran. By now, the giant pyramid was looking larger and larger the farther I got from the Eremites. Now, I was by an oasis planning my next move. I remember seeing a map of Teyvat in the Knight's library and there was a land beyond the Sumeru desert known as Natlan.

'OK, I just gotta make it to the giant pyramid and then I'm free,' I think to myself.

I know practically nothing about Natlan as it was only announced before I ended up in the game. My skin felt sun burnt and it was starting to hurt when I ran but I don't have time to sit around. I hear footsteps and I freak out and duck behind something big enough to hide me. Peeking my head out, I see not only Cyno but also Candace.

'Oh, shit," I yell in my head.

I watch as they start looking for any clues that I was there. My heart is racing as both of them seem to be getting closer and closer. I don't move, speak, or even breathe. I hear them moving around and then they stop. They're waiting for me to make a move so they can catch me.

"Your Devine majesty, you must be hot and tired. Just come with us and you'll be taken care of," I hear Candace say.

I'm still silent and still as I know the pair are still there. So, I waited. I don't know how long I was under the sweltering sun. I eventually heard the sounds of them walking away. I let out the breath I didn't know I was holding. Turning to the left I start running in the opposite way of the footsteps.

I soon reach the giant pyramid as the sun starts to set. I don't want to be in the freezing desert night so I duck inside. It's empty and makes me feel small.

As I walk around I get flashes of blurry images in front of my eyes. There's no voices, only images. A horned woman, white haired man, and sometimes Nahida and other times a tall woman who looks like an older Nahida.

It was strange, and made me nervous. I just want to go home, but it seems like the universe itself is trying to keep me here. I check my supplies and see I have just enough to make it to Natlan if I plan things right.

The echoing silence didn't help my nerves. I wanted comfort, but I also wanted to be free. I started to think about what certain people would say if they caught me. I keep up this game until I fall asleep. The stone floor felt cool against my sun burnt skin. I should probably see a doctor or something once I reach Natlan.

*TIMESKIP*

When I wake up, I'm greeted by the blinding sun and scorching heat. It hurts to move, but I have no choice. I leave the pyramid and continue my journey west. I keep my eyes and ears open as I think about the freedom that will soon be within my reach. Doing my best to avoid the scorpions, red vultures, and other desert dangers.

'How much farther is Natlan?' I ask myself.

I'm in so much pain and so, so tired. My skin is probably blistering and red, my clothes feel heavy with sweat, and I can feel the drumming of my heartbeat in my finger tips. The wind helped to cover my tracks, but not with making the journey easier.

"Maybe... Maybe I should just go back to the Eremites or something, at least I'd get water and decent food," I say to the empty sky.

The only response I get is from a desert eel who just blinks at me before disappearing into the sand. I keep walking, as I have been for days. I'm running out of water. If I don't reach Natlan soon I'm gonna die out here. I debate turning around and giving up but I'm too far for anyone to reach me.

I keep moving towards Natlan, despite for freedom. I try to remember a map of the game I saw on the official website, I feel like I'm going the right direction but without an form of compass I'm kind of screwed.

Soon, I see a rock face of red. I groan but see a walkable way up. I follow the path, tired and desperate not to die in the desert. I've finally reached the top, and I see it.

Water, sweet water! I run down the cliff face towards the water that separates me from this sandy hell! I reach the waters edge and then stop. This water might be deep and even through Sumeru clothes are airy I still might get dragged down.

I move carefully from sand patch to sand patch, until I see that the last thing in my way is a span of water I'll have to swim through. I start swimming, normally this would be easy but the sun has stolen most of my strength.

I manage to reach the land, stumbling down a dirt path. I'm here, Natlan. My vision is starting to fade and my limbs feel heavy. I hear voices in the distance, but I can't make out who they belong or what they're saying. Maybe... maybe I should take a nap. Yeah, I just need a nap and then I'll be OK.

Kachina's POV

Mualani is taking a group of people on one of her tours, and she brought me with her as an expert on the minerals found in Tequemecan Valley and some things about my tribe. We were walking and talking when I stop.

"Kachina, is something wrong?" Mualani asks.

I point towards the figure who's laying in the grass, sun burnt probably dehydrate, and soaking wet. I start to panic and Mualani is trying to keep the group calm. I run back to get help and soon people are following me back to the figure. The stronger ones pick them up to get them to a doctor. Mualani has manged to calm the group down and starts getting them interested in seeing the Ancestral Temple. I follow behind the people carrying the figure. Something seems familiar but what. Turning my head to the right I see some graffiti someone did, and it clicks. That figure isn't some adventurer in way over their head, that's the Creator!

I don't know what to do, should I tell someone or should I wait until the doctor figures it out? Whatever, I should probably tell the archon. Yes, I'll tell the archon. I summon Twirly and start making my way to the archon.

Citlali's POV

Wait, something feels wrong. My gut is telling me something is happening. I bet it was my grandson getting into trouble or maybe Itzpapa and Caitlin are causing their own trouble? No, this feels different. It soon hits me, the ley lines. I've been around for years and not once during that time have the ley lines felt this... stable. I need to investigate and find what's happening but I should probably tell Muavika. Though, Ororon should also know. No, this could put him at risk and knowing him he'd attempt to investigate and get himself killed.

*TIMESKIP*

Reader's POV

Everything hurts. My vision is trying to focus on the ceiling in above me while I hear people talking. I sit up and hear frantic yelling.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

"Y-You're awake?" A guy asks.

I nod and he and the woman near him look confused and slightly scared. I ask them where am I and who are they. They introduced themselves and said they were healers. Turns out I didn't take a nap in the grass, I was sun burnt and passed out in the grass but I was found and brought to them for treatment. They both seem a little nervous, which means I'm either a medical miracle or they also think I'm some god and this will be like every other nation.

We're all silent, staring, and waiting for someone to make a move. A voice from someone else breaks the tension as the pair walk to see who it is. There's the sound of paper and I see the two look at me over their shoulders. Oh shit, here we go again. I stand up and go to try and stumble my way out the door the but the older woman of the medical pair drags me back into bed and says I have to stay there until they say otherwise.

'Great, I wanted freedom from Sumeru but now I'm just probably gonna be stuck!'I think.

The pair keep me there for a few days, making sure I'm not trying to leave. They never told me their names, but they were great company. When I was fully healed I wandered outside to explore.

The area is a rocky yet beautiful valley. I know people are gonna stare but at this post I'm used to it. I spend some time with the people, finally getting to see Kachina's fluffy ears in person and have Xilonen try teaching me how to roller skate. Natlan always seemed so fun in game, and it's just as fun in person.

Muavika's POV

I really hate doing this, but it must be done. With the Creator returning our ley lines have finally stabilized. Citlali investigation made it clear that the only way for our ley lines to be stable, and for the people to be safe, is to have the Creator stay permanently in Natlan. I feel bad, they deserve to be free like anyone else but their presence is active saving thousands of lives but just existing on our soil. Thought, why were they passed out on the grass so close to our border with Sumeru. So far Nahida hasn't sent me anything regarding it. I spoke with each tribe leader, giving them permission to do what it takes to keep the Creator here so long as no blood of theirs is spilled.

I smile to myself, I've tried for centuries to protect my people and my very own Creator was the key, and they came here willingly. I've already set up a day to meet them in person, the problem is the tribes are arguing over who will host this meeting. That means I'll have to call the tribe heads in for a meeting so we can discuss this in a civil manner.

"Either way, the nation with be saved and the Creator with have the time of their life," I tell the tribe leaders.

I watch as they discuss. I'm smiling. I now this is wrong, but the Creator has always been good to us in the past, why won't they be good to us now?

[captain-huggy-bear]

"Do you think we're cursed?" Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :) Feel free to request for Mattie or even write for him yourself. Writing Masterlist

He's slumped over in the locker room when you find him after the game. Broad shoulders pulled inwards like he might be able to make himself smaller, might be able to hide away, as he stares at his hands. He looks exhausted, dark circles underneath shifting brown and green eyes, a bruise already forming on his cheek from a fight with Chris Lucas that ended in a 5 minute power play for the Reapers.

You know what Mattie is like...he takes every loss so personal, it doesn't help that the Reapers have been without a good win for what feels like months...it's starting to wear him down, whether he's good enough to be captain or not, whether he's leading them to failure. He blames himself for each loss whether regulation or overtime.

When he looks up at you his hair is wild, dark curls falling cross his forehead haphazardly and his eyes are just as wild, like you hold the answer to everything.

"Do you think we're cursed?"

"Well..." You hesitate, stepping close enough for Mattie to grip you by the hips and pull you closer. He tugs until you're stood between his thighs looking down on him, until you're close enough that you can count the freckles across his face and see the sweep of his long eyelashes.

"Be honest with me, princess...I can take it."

You're not sure he can, hands reaching up to push his curls away from his face, tucking them behind his ears. It's the way he seems to slump into your touch, like you're a cool drink after wandering through a desert, that makes you doubt how much resilience he has in that moment. It was one thing to know you were losing, another to have your girlfriend point it out.

"Are...are you sure? You don't look like you can take it..."

"That's because I just spent 30 minutes on the ice and had a 4 minute shift...and got my shit rocked by Chris Lucas..." He spits the other man's name out like the forward for the Michigan Blaze is poison on his tongue and you know how he feels. Watching him get beat on wasn't fun, you'd screamed your voice raw about the unfairness, and even though Lucas was expelled from the game...it didn't make it easier to see.

"Well...I think we need to do an exorcism on the team. Maybe get some candles? A priest?" You suggest, fingers running back through his curls as he closes his eyes at the sensation. His shoulders starting to relax as his fingers grip tighter to your hips, palms running up and over and back and forth a few times.

"Yeah?"

"Mmm, but I don't think you're cursed..." You hum, letting him pull you into his lap, sitting across his thighs. Like always he takes it easy and in his stride, a big man who prides himself on being able to shift you about whenever, wherever and however he wants. Prides himself on you not worrying if you're too much, too heavy.

"No?"

"No, baby, I just think you're carrying them a little too much right now." Mattie blinks up at you, and you can't help but smooth the bags under his eye, avoiding the sore bruise on his cheek as much as possible.

"5 game loss streak...in September we had a 6 game win streak...how the fuck..." You let him curl his face into your shoulder, nuzzling into your neck like he might be able to hide from the reality of captaining a team that might not even make it to the playoffs at the moment.

"You need team bonding."

"Board games?" He huffs a laugh into your neck, pressing a little kiss there because he can...because even if the whole situation is fucking shit, you make everything a little easier. Whether it's making jokes or running your hands through his hair or just sitting so close to him that he feels like he's not so alone. He can't help but pull you tighter into him on his lap, arms wrapping tight around you like you might decide to get up at leave.

"I was thinking a dungeons and dragons session, if you can't communicate after that...well, might as well put me on the ice."

You grin a little at his laugh, the way his breath tickles your neck and you bounce slightly on his thighs. You might not be a hockey player, a coach or a miracle worker, but this? Cheering him up? That you can do.

"You know...if I wasn't scared of you getting hurt...I'd put you out there, baby."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, think you'd wipe the floor with them, princess. Just bite their ankles." He pulls away from your neck to grin up at you, all toothy and silly, that one curl falling across his forehead. You gasp, pretending to be offended, hands pushing on his shoulders to 'pull away'. Not that he lets you go anywhere, arms firm and solid around you.

"Hey! That's rude!"

"What? You're my little ankle biter," Mattie nuzzles into your cheek, feeling soft and languid, choosing to forget the loss and focus on you. On the way you huff at him, the way you pout at his accusations, the warmth of you in his arms.

"I've never bitten your ankles."

"No, just my arm, my neck, my lips, my ear...."

"Shut up," It's endearing the way you hide your face in the crook of his neck, your skin practically scalding hot against his in your embarrassment.

There's a period of silence, just the sound of both your breaths and the way your clothes shift against each other as you curl together in the locker room. Everyone else is gone and he's glad because that means he can hold you as long as he wants without one of his teammates yapping at him about it and calling him whipped. Which he is. He knows he is.

People look at him and assume he's not that soft, assume that maybe he's a bit of a player, but really? Really, he's totally just smitten with you and he couldn't care less if that ruins his reputation as a hit maker on the ice.

Mattie pulls you out of his neck, just enough for him to cup your cheeks and tilt your face, just enough so that your eyes meet his and he can smile at you all soft and sweet. Like you've turned him into a trained house pet (you have, you've practically domesticated him).

"I love you...y'know that?" The way you bite your lip and look away just for a second is adorable, that after all this time you still get a little awkward and a little bashful when he tells you that he loves you. The truth is you still don't quite believe it, that the man in front of you can love you that much, so much that he never fails to mention it, that he'll say it in front of anyone and everyone, unashamed.

"I know. I love you too, y'know?"

"Even when I'm losing?" He says it like a joke, but you can hear the real question in his words...like he truly thinks you might not want him anymore if he doesn't win. You only care that he wins for his sake, you're not dating him because his team is winning or losing or anything in between. You're dating him.

"You could lose every game for the rest of your career and I'd still love you, Matthew."

"Keep talking like that and I'll make you my wife."

"As if you weren't planning on it anyway."

"...True, you're my ankle biter, can't let anyone else have you."

[sweetlullabyebye]

They said 'hypocrisy who'

[stabbyfoxandrew]

i need to cry for like 2 hours and go to sleep, i think that would fix me

[age-of-moonknight]

“New Kids on the Block,” Spider-Woman (Vol. 8/2023), #7.

Writer: Steve Foxe; Penciler and Inker: Ig Guara; Colorist: Arif Prianto; Letterer: Joe Sabino

[princema-k]

"Dr. ████ had him programmed with a 'kill-code' that was supposed to activate should he deviate. It didn't work as he'd hoped."

"Roo-D said we should be able to revert him to normal if we remove the controller chip module planted in him..."

"..."

"...Easier said than done..."

"None of us can even get close to him..."

[nemesis-is-my-middle-name]

25-28 is probably my favorite run of episodes just like. in the whole show. especially with added context. like oh ok, john literally just got back from being retraumatized and going through literal hell and literally all he wants is to escape that and know that he's not completely fucked as a person for what he did to survive it. which he isn't even allowed to talk about directly but still desperately wants some kind of comfort/reassurance from the only person he trusts and cares about, who's been his guide and anchor in the past.

unfortunately almost the second he gets back he discovers that arthur's going to be exactly negative helpful in this regard because he's taken all of roughly 24 hours to escalate to "kill everyone in the building and then myself" levels of mental breakdown. so now john's on duty as a sanity checker. fucking. okay. this is the opposite of what he wanted. great.

[hiding-under-the-willow]

Tossing and turning in bed plagued by visions (Ed Edgar headcanons that are definitely just me projecting my cowboy ass autistic interest in strange animals onto him bc he too is a strange southern man with autistic swag)

[puthyflapps]

Y’all need to be watching The Lost Flowers of Alice Hart!!! The first three episodes dropped on Friday and it’s really really good!!!!! I’m dying for ep 4 to come out now so I can see ADC on my screen again 🤞🏻I beg

[loregoddess]

Let’s go with Narve for the ask meme

How I feel about this character He's cool! I definitely didn't use him to his full potential in my runs, although I'd like to try and figure out how to use him in battle for whenever I replay TriStrat. But narratively I think Narve's arc offers an interesting insight into the worldbuilding, helping to show Hyzante's current culture and approach to information (both acquisition and suppression) long before the player even gets to say, the end of Roland's route where Exharme reveals that if Svarog had not burnt the Archives himself, then Exharme would have destroyed them on orders from Idore. Like, even before that, we know from the beginning of Narve's character story that suppressing information that doesn't help Hyzante/Idore maintain power is just a Thing that happens regularly.

But his character story also gives us insight into the counter of this as well, in that despite Idore's best attempts to expunge Grandante from history, the people who Grandante helped after being exiled still remember him, and in this way his legacy still lives on (and of course, Narve himself is carrying out this legacy, and sharing the story of his grandfather, and making it even harder for Hyzante to fully stamp out the memory of Grandante; not unlike how Frederica continues to fight against Hyzante in the epilogue of Roland's ending).

So like, while Narve isn't my top favorite or anything, I still think he plays a super interesting role in how the narrative fabric gets woven, since he embodies some of the fundamental themes of the overall narrative--that there are powers that would seek to suppress information if it benefited them, and that it's impossible, or at least very difficult, to truly erase information so long as there are people willing to remember and share it.

All the people I ship romantically with this character No one at the moment, although if pressed, I might try to make an argument for Narve x Jens since they seem to be close in age, and mage x craftsman is an underappreciate ship dynamic.

My non-romantic OTP for this character I do like Narve's friendship with Geela like, of all the permanent roster characters who can show up in other character stories, I wasn't expecting Geela per se (esp. since Anna's usually the one who gets to hang out with the younger kids), but it's nice to see how supportive Geela is of Narve's pursuits (although considering that she plans on opening her own school after the war, maybe her taking to Narve isn't so surprising, since one of his encampment dialogues suggest he's going to open up a magic school as well).

My unpopular opinion about this character Underrated character by everyone, including myself before I sat down to start drafting this ask. I have to say, he's a pretty interesting character in his own right.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon. As usual, more character interactions. Would Narve and Corentin have become friends over their shared love of magic? Actually, it would have been interesting to see a conversation between Narve and Ezana over the similarities and differences between their approaches to magic too. Narve's character stories focus a lot on his healing magic, so it'd be interesting to see him discuss healing magic with Cordelia. It would have also been interesting to see Narve interact with characters outside of the field of magic too like, would Narve and Medina bond over frustrations with Hyzante? And of course, now I'm wondering how character interactions between Narve and Jens would work like, they both share of love of knowledge and desire to become the best in their field (to similar but different ends), and Jens is The Army Blacksmith, so he should at least have some interactions with every other playable character anyhow...

So many possibilities, at the rate I'm going I should just draw up a chart of all the support/rapport-style bond conversations I wish had existed in TriStrat as a dual game/narrative mechanic.