#can't trust anything i tell you until it's on paper in story

[wutheringmights]

can you tell us what Ickywars are actually like? or shall it all be revealed in a chapter? are they icky?

patience, dear anon-- all will be revealed in due time

#i understand your concern anon but you are asking for a spoiler #i will say that warriors referring to icarius as a cheeky bastard is very warranted #like take into account that a) i am the one writing this b) the closest any of the main cast has to a healthy relationship is lincoln #and c) i just think whatever warriors and icarius has going on is EXTREMELY funny #me rambling #lu ctb #ask #linked universe #anonymous #but i could also be pulling your leg right now 00 #can't trust anything i tell you until it's on paper in story #wait i could start a bit where i give increasingly ridiculous info about this pairing #it's be revenge for the terrible pairing name #ickywars posting

[ughgoaway]

secret santa // day 1

content warnings; swearing, mention of boners, drinking?, pining and stressed matty lol

a/n; day 1 wooooo!!! For some reason, this is my longest fic i have for the 12 days, so we are starting with a bang, i guess?? I'm not totally sure how I feel about this fic... but tbh I never like anything I post, so that's not really new lol

word count; 4.2k

(this fic takes place pre-relationship)

12 days masterlist

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“Daddy!” is the first thing Matty hears when his daughter comes bounding into the house after school that day. Adam follows behind her with an exasperated look on his face, and her bright pink unicorn backpack slung over his shoulder.

“Hi mate, Annie has some very exciting news that she just can not stop talking about,” he says, stressing the fact that she just will not stop talking. Matty gives his friend an understanding nod as he takes his daughter's bag.

“Ah wow, how exciting! I can't wait to hear all about it,” Annie opens her mouth to talk, but Maty quickly cuts in before she can start, “After Uncle Adam leaves, okay? Say, thank you for picking me up to Uncle Adam!” 

Annie comes bounding up to Adam and hugs his legs. He can't help the smile that breaks out on his face. “Thank you, Uncle Adam!!” Annie says, looking up at him with that cheeky face he loves so much. Adam pats her head and waves to Matty before swiftly leaving to hang out with his much more peaceful son.

Matty manages to corral his daughter to sit at the kitchen table to share her very thrilling news, Annie is practically vibrating in her seat with excitement. Despite her palpable eagerness, Annie waited until Matty had sat down and given her a nod to start talking, something they had been working on.

As soon as she got the nod, words started vomiting out of Annie's mouth at a speed most people wouldn't be able to decipher. But if anyone was an expert on little Annie Healy, it was her dad.

“I get to do the Secret Santa!!” Annie eventually says, grinning so wide that Matty isn't sure her cheeks won't split. He pauses for a second, trying to process his daughter's words. How does she even know what secret Santa is?

“Oh wow, darling!” he says, fieigning happiness for his daughter, but his face tells another story, “That's great, sweetheart, but what does that mean exactly? Secret Santa with your friends? I thought we already got them presents?” Matty distinctly remembers about 2 hours in the Tesco toy aisle choosing out the perfect toy for each of her friends.

“Not for my friends silly,” Annie says sighing, as if her father's obliviousness was just so ridiculous, “for Miss y/n!!!” she smacks her hands on the table with a flourish, acting like this was an obvious piece of information.

Well, it certainly piqued Matty's interest. As did anything that involved your name, really. He remembers last month when someone got hired at Dirty Hit with the same name as you. Matty nearly got whiplash with how fast he turned when he first heard someone say “Y/n is here to see you!” The disappointment on his face must have scared the poor intern half to death. He quickly fixed his expression and was polite, but he felt his pulse racing under his skin.

“Ooh wow, munchkin, that's awesome! Did they give you a note or anything for me to have a look at?” Matty asks. He's sure they wouldn't trust a 6-year-old to relay this information.

Annie perked up at his words, “Oh yeah!” She says, jumping off her chair and scurrying over to her backpack. She unzips her bag and starts furiously pulling out different objects. Matty isn't sure how it all fits in. It's like Mary Poppins bag. She pulls out 5 books, 2 jumpers, 6 pieces of mystery paper, 2 toys (that she is not allowed to bring to school) and one of mayhems toys before she shrieks out an “Aha!” and in her hand is a crumpled pink slip of paper.

she brings it over to Matty excitedly and shoves it into his hand before straightening her back and puffing her chest out, clearly proud to have been chosen. Matty laughs at his daughter's infallible confidence before trying to straighten out the paper enough to read what's written.

“Okay let's see…” Matty says to himself, “Congratulations! If you have received this note, you have been chosen for our teacher's Secret Santa program! We at bridgeside school believe that our amazing teachers also deserve gifts this holiday season, so we choose one student from each teacher's class to be their Secret Santa. Don't worry, parents, there's a £10 limit so no need to go too wild! Students are picked based on enthusiasm and progress in school, so you should be proud to be picked! Please ensure all gifts are given to reception by Monday next week to allow time to distribute them. Thank you!” Matty finishes reading the note under his breath, and he can't help but grin to himself at the fact Annie was specially chosen.

He puts the paper down on the table and turns around to Annie, who is standing beside him with a nervous look on her face. Matty pauses for a few seconds before jumping and grabbing her, Annie shrieks at the sudden attack. He pulls her onto his lap and begins tickling all over her, revelling in her roaring laughter and infectious smile.

“Specially chosen, huh!” Matty says loudly to his daughter, still squeezing her tight in his arms and tickling where he can reach. Annie nods as best she can whilst being attacked with tickles, and Matty laughs at her gappy grin.

He soon lets up and leaves Annie sitting in his lap, looking happy as can be, “I know, Daddy!! The headmistress came to me today and said it because I've been trying so hard at my spelling!” she says, the look of pride on her face made mattys heart swell.

He remembers the late nights of practising her spelling. At the last parent’s evening, you had brought up Annie was falling behind a small bit in the weekly spelling tests. Not too much, but enough where some work at home would be beneficial. So Matty dedicated every Monday night as spelling night, and he and Annie sat and worked on it. He couldn't be happier that their hard work was recognised or that she's making such good progress.

It's then that the gravity of the situation at hand hits Matty. He has to buy a gift for you. For YOU. For the woman he… cares a great deal about. What does he buy? And for only £10! What good can he get with that? He didn't want to give you a shitty bottle of wine, this is his first opportunity to give you a gift and he wasn't about to fuck it up with a bad pinot.

Knowing he was about to spiral, Matty sent Annie off with a genuine smile and a quick hug. Annie being Annie, ran off oblivious to her dad's growing stress and began trolling around the house looking for mayhem. She had got some new hairclips in a magazine and was determined to give him a makeover.

Before he could go completely insane, Matty ran into the kitchen for his phone and just dialled the most recent number he called. Anyone would help right now, Matty was just sick of his own mind. 

“Hey Matty, you alright?” Ah, Adam, perfect. He was level-headed, a good dad, and knows how to deal with Matty’s hysteria. 

“Adam.” Matty starts in a disturbingly calm voice, “How could you just LEAVE when you knew what Annie was going to say?!?!” Matty scolded his best friend and was just met with the sound of laughter over the phone. 

“Why would I stay? It's no big deal, right? You have said on many occasions you feel totally neutral about Miss y/n, so I felt no need to stay” Adam teased, having had many conversations with Matty about his clear crush on you.

He first saw it at the school parent's day, he and Matty were casually chatting when you walked over and he saw his friend change in front of his eyes, suddenly becoming a lovesick 16-year-old. But Matty insisted he didn't have feelings for you, according to Matty he was “remarkably and totally neutral towards you”. 

Adam decided this news was a great way to test this theory. As soon as he heard Annie chattering on, he knew Matty would freak out, grab his phone, and call him. So when he got home, Adam simply made a cup of tea and sat down with his phone in his hand, waiting for a call. And 20 minutes later, his phone rang.

Silence is all Adam heard over the phone for a good few seconds, and he could almost see Matty weighing up his options with that scrunched-up face he does. He picked up his tea and loudly took a sip, reminding Matty of his presence.

On the other end of the line, Matty was doing exactly that. Does he embarrass himself and admit his feelings in exchange for help? Or does he fight to keep the last shred of dignity he had?

“Fine. I really really like her. Are you happy now?” Matty sighed, deciding that any dignity he might have had in the eyes of Adam died when he found him passed out in a bin with George at 19.

Adam grinned teasingly on the other side of the phone but decided to leave any real teasing for in person. It's just no fun when you can't see Matty's cheeks gradually turning more pink. “Okay. now that we've got that out of the way, what the fuck are you gonna get her?”

Matty scoffed at his friend's question, “Mate. Why the fuck do you think I'm calling? I have no idea!! I don't want to be boring and just get a candle and a bottle of wine.” Matty pauses thoughtfully for a moment before returning to his ramble, “although she does like candles. I remember her saying her apartment is covered in them, she even set off the smoke detector once. And she is always smelling like Jasmine so maybe that is her favourite scent? God she smells so good, you know I think her shampoo is apple and that mixed with-”

Adam cut Matty off before he started giving him your home address and national insurance number, “Dude how do you know what scent shampoo she uses? God, you're such a stalker. Don't go full Dahmer on this girl, yeah?” Adam jokes.

“It's not my fault she has nice hair! Anyway, shut up. You are not being helpful right now” Matty whines petulantly, and Adam realises he's actually freaking out about this. He decided it was time to go full dad mode and be supportive.

“Right, it's clear you know a lot about her, so why don't we focus on that? Do you know her favourite perfume or something? Maybe some jewellery she wants? I’m assuming you are not sticking to the £10 limit”

Matty simply scoffs, confirming Adam’s suspicion. Before he can continue throwing ideas at Matty, he hears him gasp, “I know what to get her!” Matty says excitedly.

Once again, silence falls over the two men, and Adam sighs, knowing what Matty wants, “and what is that, Matthew?” he says with sarcastic excitement filling his voice. 

Adam can hear the grin over the phone as Matty speaks, “I'm going to get her a copy of “The Little Prince” but a proper nice one, first edition in the original French and everything” he puffed out his chest in pride as he finished, despite no one being around to see him.

“A kid's book? Matty shes a teacher. I'm sure she's sick of kid’s books, why would you get her that? Does she even know French?” Adam can't help but think Matty saw a copy on her desk and just assumed she liked it. Maybe she was just teaching with it, and Matty took the idea and ran.

“No no, you don't get it,” Matty starts, “it was her favourite book as a kid. She was obsessed and read it cover to cover so many times the spine fell apart. She told me that this book is what made her want to teach. As soon as she read it, she went into her class the next day and did a whole presentation on it, read it to her whole class, and answered questions." Matty envisioned an 8-year-old you buzzing with excitement talking about the book, your teacher smiling and encouraging as you were blabbering on.

"She had a copy from her grandmother that she treasured, but it got lost in the jumble when she moved. It was in the original French, and she learnt French just to be able to read it. Nothing means more to her than this book.” As he finished, Matty noticed the massive grin on his face, something that was inevitable whenever he spoke about you.

He decided not to talk about the one time he actually heard you speak French, not wanting to share the experience of trying to hide a boner during a school-wide meeting and sneaking off to his car pretty quickly after it wrapped up.

Adam was taken aback by Matty's words. Who was this person, and what did he do to his best mate? He's pretty sure for his last situation-ships birthday, Matty got her a card with a bouquet of lilies. And she was allergic to lilies.

But here he was, considering things you loved in childhood, things that actually mean something to you. He had never seen Matty so infatuated with someone, remembering every little thing they ever said.

Matty was in love with you. 

“Fuck man you are whipped” is what Adam decided to say, not sure whether Matty had come to the whole “love” realisation by himself yet.

“Ha ha ha, Adam you're so funny.” Matty said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “So do you think it is okay? She’ll like it?” he anxiously chewed on his nails as he spoke, desperate not to fuck this up.

“It's perfect. She's gonna love it, if you can find one that is” came Adam's response, he decided to lay off the comedic responses for a little bit, just to stop Matty from having a mental breakdown. 

“Oh I'll find one. Otherwise, I'll have to get her a candle, and that's just shite” his confidence was clear through the phone. And a determined Matty is someone who gets something done, whether you like it or not.

As soon as he knew what to get, he practically hung up on Hann mid-sentence, but he stayed long enough to give him a rushed goodbye. Not quite long enough to say thank you, however, but Adam got a text a few seconds later simply saying, “Thank you, I needed that”

Adam, being a middle-aged man, simply sent back a thumbs-up emoji, ‘an image that speaks a thousand words’ he thought.

////

After a week of calling every rare bookshop in the area, Matty managed to get his hands on a first edition of “The Little Prince”, for substantially more than £10 but that secret was between him, god and his wallet. 

He explained to the school that Annie wanted to give her gift to you personally, so he asked if he could bring it directly to you on Friday. By some grace of god, the school agreed, and here Matty was standing outside your door gift bag in hand and pulling anxiously at his shirt.

“Matty!” You say in shock as you open the door, a beaming smile on your face. Matty took in your dress and almost had to grip the door frame to steady himself. It was the staff Christmas party that night, and it was clear you were all dressed up and ready. You stood in a sleek black dress, nothing glittery or fancy, but the way it looked on you had Matty's hands itching to touch you.

“I'm here too miss y/n” came a little voice from below. You were too busy staring into Matty’s eyes and watching them skirt over your body. 

“Oh, Annie! I'm so sorry, sweetheart, your daddy is so tall I almost missed you!” You laugh out and pat Annie's head in apology. Matty couldn't help but preen at the mention of his height.

“I'm so sorry to interrupt you. You look amazing, by the way. Well, not like - not amazing in a creepy way - I mean-” Matty stuttered, trying to get back to his point. You simply nod along with his words and bit the inside of your cheek to hide the smirk threatening to break across your face.

“Anyway,” Matty said after he pulled himself together with a shake of his head, “we're here to give you your Secret Santa present! Annie, do you want to pass it to miss y/n?” he patted his daughter on the back and passed her the gift.

With flushed cheeks and a pink nose from the cold, Annie grinned up to you and passed the bag over. Matty had added a few filler presents, a candle and a bottle of perfume Annie chose, and that he thought you'd like. Just the book felt… odd. A little too personal, maybe, he didn't want to scare you off with his slightly stalker-like tendencies.

“Wow! Thank you, Annie! I didn't think I was even in this year's Secret Santa!” You lie, you knew Annie was your gift giver the day she got chosen. That cheesy smile wouldn't leave her face all day.

Annie giggled clung to her dad's leg, suddenly feeling shy at the attention. Matty simply smiled at his daughter and began to fiddle with her curls.

“Okay well, we will leave you to go to your party now. I hope you have a good time! Say bye to miss y/n Annie,” Matty prompts his daughter, who gives you a wave and runs away. Matty spins on his heels and begins to follow before turning around to say one last thing. 

“I meant what I said earlier, by the way. You look beautiful” he said with a bashful smile, acting almost as shy as his daughter just had. 

Words escaped you at that moment. You wanted to run and give him a hug for the present and a kiss for the compliment, but you simply whispered, “Thank you, Matty.”

The door had barely clicked shut, and you had already all but ran to your desk to open your present, your heart in your mouth at the prospect of a gift from Matty. Well, technically from Annie, but you're pretty sure if Matty gave her £10 and let her loose in Tesco, the present would end up being something totally random like a bag of celery.

But maybe you were reading too much into this. Your silly schoolgirl crush has just been growing and growing over the passing months. Your heart aches for Matty. It has gotten to the point where you sit in bed late at night and perform autopsies on conversations you had months ago. Desperate to find something said in the unsaid, something new.

You won't see him for a week, and you'll convince yourself it's just a physical attraction thing, a casual crush. But then you see him swooping in at pick up with his rockstar sunglasses and beautiful curls, and you feel your heart stutter and pause. Every time you speak with him, butterflies hammer at your ribs, and your brain seems to just stop around him. Much to your embarrassment. 

Recently, you vowed to be more natural around him, totally normal. However, trying to play it cool and casual is a great plan in theory, but attempting to do that whilst looking into his eyes is an almost impossible task.

But tonight, you managed to at least play it off like Matty's comment didn't knock the wind out of you. His calling you beautiful was going to go around and around in your head for weeks. You wish you could have memorised the moment better. You should focus on his shy smile or the way he wrung his hands together anxiously. Maybe even the look of pure love in his eyes.

But you were too busy internally repeating to yourself “Don't fall over. Don't act like a twat. Make sure to smile and not freeze.” so all of those small things got lost in the jumble of thoughts.

As you pulled the tissue out of the paper, a waft of matty hit your nostrils. god, were you that desperate that even tissue paper smells like him now? You could swear it has that same musk and warmth that follows him around.

Little did you know Matty had to actively choose not to constantly think about you. He has to try not to think about the way you bite your lip when you're focusing on something. Or the way you fiddle with your hair when you're nervous, twisting it around your fingers absentmindedly. Or even the way your cheeks flush when someone compliments you, the way it spreads from your cheeks to over your nose and down to your neck. He has to really try not to think about your neck, to not obsess over the thought of pressing kisses up and down it as you giggle into him. But alas, he had actual adult responsibilities, much to his dismay, so he couldn't just sit and analyse you every waking moment.

You stick your hand in and grab something that feels like a candle, and it is… oh. It's a candle. Huh.

You're not disappointed. It smells good and has a beautiful jar, but you can't help but feel slightly odd at the lack of warmth. But whatever, you were expecting too much anyway. A candle and a bottle of wine are perfectly normal Secret Santa presents, and why should you expect anything other than that? Just because you were lusting after Matty doesn't mean he thought about you any longer than he had to.

You shake off any disappointment you had and resign yourself to the idea that this is a totally normal parent present. There won't be anything amazing or showstopping. The budget was £10 and you're sure not even world famous rock star Matty Healy could get anything good with that.

You pull out the perfume next, immediately smiling as you notice it's your favourite scent, jasmine. What a lucky guess. It's a nice bottle, too. It had you immediately thinking of a use for it afterwards, the same way any nice bottle or jar does. You must have a collection of 20 candle jars on your mantle at home filled with knickknacks, little things from the kids, or strange porcelain figures you didn't have the heart to leave in a charity shop.

The bag is still heavy in your hands, but you scrunch your face in confusion. Surely there's no budget left? Tentatively, you reach in and feel a book, which is even more confusing to you, but you pull it out anyway, interested to see what Matty thought you read.

Oh. fuck. 

There in your hands was your childhood in physical form, the curly script reading “le petit prince.” Your eyes skirt over the cover as they well up. Slowly, you spin the book around and audibly gasp as you look it over, admiring its worn spine and somehow pristine cover. 

Your vision is foggy, tears gathering at your lash line and you're intent on not letting them fall, but as soon as you open the book and a small certificate of authenticity falls out you can't help but wetly laugh in shock as tears stream down your cheeks.

The first edition of your favourite book of all time. The book that meant everything to you, everything to your grandmother. You never thought you'd see a first edition in real life, let alone own one.

With shaky hands, you carefully pull apart the pages and begin to read, muttering the french under your breath. Tears drip onto the desk and blow you. You sniffle and bring a shaky hand up to wipe them away, but it's futile. They continue to find their way down your cheeks.

With a pounding heart, you place down the book with the care of handling a newborn baby, and as you do so a small white slip of paper under the certificate catches your eye. You slide it out from under and try and read it despite your wet eyes.

“To y/n,

I know this is over the limit, but I also know what this book means to you. I still remember talking about it in depth on World Book Day. Us two huddled in a corner, trying to escape the other parents. Your vulnerability and honesty that day meant so much to me. Thank you for sharing. also, thank you for being the very best teacher to my little girl. I don't know where either of us would be without you. Anyway, I'll stop rambling now, Let's keep this gift between us, though, huh? I wouldn't want Mr. Johnson from the year 5 class to find out his nice cheese platter isn't the best gift of the year.

Happy holidays darling, 

Matty x”

Well, safe to say any hope of that crush faltering had just died and gone to hell. 

#christmas75 #matty healy #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy fic #matty healy fluff #matty healy x you #matty healy x reader #the 1975 fic #teacher au! #i think this is too wordy and lowkey bad... but we move #matty healy fanfic #hopefully its not too bad??

[deliciousangelfestival]

My Dear Wife - Lloyd Hansen Series

Character: Lloyd Hansen x Rich!Female Reader

Words Count: 3200

Summary: Our reader was safe from the hostage situation, and she got her answer for all her problems. But did she make the right choice being married to a lunatic sociopath? 

Check out Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7 (Extra Story)

A/N: This is the continuous chapter from 3 Billion Divorce. <<<Check it out if you haven't read it. 

And check out my other stories from Masterlist.

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Thank you so much for reblogging the first chapter. 💕💕

I want to write the aftermath of the day Lloyd came to the reader's office with the divorce paper. 

But I feel the story would be better when both characters get to know each other. 

I would appreciate any comments and feedback you can give me. Please tell me if you have any ideas and feedback for part 3. 

Don't be shy if you want to be tagged for part 3. 😄💕

In the family, there will always be an evil uncle, aunt, or cousin who says hurtful things. Their bullet would be:

"Why are you still single?"

"How much is your salary?"

"When will you get married?"

"My son/daughter just got promoted or bought a new apartment."

They will say anything to make their family better than anyone else. 

The only choice is to ignore them and not return for another family gathering. 

But with you, it's a different case. You wished they would say hurtful things rather than try to get rid of you. 

They have shown you their true colors after your grandfather's funeral. 

Their first act was you woke up at a mental hospital with the note that you're delusional. 

You ran away and sued the hospital. 

They even use your friend to spike your drinks. Since that day, you lost your friend, and you never took a sip that was being offered to you. 

You almost got killed on the airplane, but the pilot didn't want to risk his life, so he told you the truth. 

You can't even stay at your own house. Cause assassins always break in to get you while you're asleep.

That's just some of the cases. 

After the suffering, you've been facing all these years. 

It's time to get revenge. 

You got an instant husband who is an expert at handling problems.

After your secretary sent the money, Lloyd untied the rope around your hands. What a paranoid man; he didn't trust you until he got the money. 

"Mr. Hansen, where is my bodyguard?" You couldn’t stop worrying about Jimmy after the car crash. You didn’t know what happened to him. 

He is still sitting and reading the contract. "Aren't we supposed to be husband and wife? Call me Lloyd, or hubby, or babe. Take your pick."

Lloyd wants to tease you and is curious about your response.

You’re not amused with his jokes, "Lloyd, I want my bodyguard to be alive and healthy."

Oh well, you’re not in the mood for jokes. He snapped his finger to his soldier to come forward. The soldier speaks softly, almost whispering, "Her bodyguard lost too much blood."

Lloyd clenched the soldier's collar, forced him to bend, and pointed his gun. "I don't care, treat him. If he needs to bathe in blood, so be it. Or do you want to pay the penalty of 3 billion?"

"No sir." The soldier shook his head and started to run. 

He put down the contract and clapped his hands. "Good news sweetheart, your bodyguard is resting. He got dehydrated."

"So what does my precious wife want me to do?" 

He strolls towards you. "Do you want to finish them as quickly as possible or slowly by torturing them?"

"The second choice."

"I thought you wanted them gone."

You scoffed. "They will lose their will to live when they see me become the head of the company."

Lloyd felt a shiver when you said that. He likes it when you sound desperate but bossy at the same time.

"I need to ask you, are you sure you want to pay me that much money? I could give you a discount if you want."

You shook your head. "It doesn't matter to me as long as I'm alive."

You walk around him while your eyes stay focused, looking at his blue eyes. "I see how you work, kind of spontaneous but deadly. You immediately betrayed my relative after I offered you more money."

Suddenly you stopped and smirked, "That means you're not afraid or just don't give a shit. I need a fearless man who is also a lunatic at the same time."

"Besides, I'm worth more than 40 million dollars."

He felt shiver again, and now his heart was beating loudly. He doesn't understand why.

Lloyd's hands cover his face. "Stop, stop, I'm blushing because of your compliment."

"We could write this into our marriage vows."

You rolled your eyes. "By the way, is there any room that I could use? I want to rest."

Lloyd smirked, "Oh honey, I haven't decorated the bedroom for our wedding night."

You sighed heavily, your finger running through your hair."Lloyd, Right now, your wife is exhausted, 4 hours ago, I thought I would die. I have no energy to banter with your joke."

"Okay princess." Lloyd raised his hands; he knew it was time to stop teasing you. "My man will take you to your bedroom. By the way, my room is next to yours. If you feel lonely, just knock." He winked at you. 

You rolled your eyes. "Ooh, and I want to have breakfast tomorrow. Black coffee and egg Benedict."

‘GASP!' Everyone inside the house was astonished at how brave you were giving orders to their boss. 

"Don't tell me 1 billion is not enough to get me proper food?"

You shook your head. 

Lloyd looked at you.

You didn't know the last time someone gave him an order, that person got thrown into the sea. 

This is the first time a guest has ordered breakfast in his mansion. To be exact, a former hostage became an honorary guest in his house. 

At the stairs, you look down at him. "Don't make me regret investing in you, Lloyd." 

His jaw twitched, but he stared at your back without replying. 

He never tries to prove himself. But to you, he has too. He doesn't want to disappoint you since you gave him so much money.

God, he loved a challenge.

He snapped his fingers to call the servants, "Tell our chef to give his best for tomorrow."

After you closed the door behind you, you finally took a breath. 

Honestly, you didn’t plan to sleep, but after you find the answer to your problem, you feel somewhat relieved, and the fatigue you've been holding in for four years finally releases and drains your energy. 

It’s a funny world; you feel safer sleeping in a house full of guns. Everyone here wears weapons like accessories. 

*****

While you are resting on the second floor, everyone is working since Lloyd orders his IT team to start looking at your family. 

It will take a while to get the info; while waiting, Lloyd took a cigarette to the terrace. He took a deep puff and exhaled smoke as he looked at the garden. 

He thought he could finish this job easily. But now it’s more complicated. 

‘BZZT’ The sudden vibrating phone woke Lloyd from his deep thoughts. He grins when he sees the caller.

"There's a new job for you." That British accent sounds annoyed, probably caused by Susan's nagging.

"Can't. I'm busy."

"I thought you'd done with the last mission."

"That one is done. This one is different."

"What is it?"

"I got married."

"...."

"You're… not… laughing. Are you serious? With who?"

"Y/N L/N."

Lloyd moved his ears away from the phone because Carmichael cursed too loudly.

"L/N? Don't tell me she's from the conglomerate family L/N & Co?"

"Yes."

"I heard she will be appointed as the leader next year. Lloyd, you lucky bastard."

"Thanks man. Hey, can you send all the files of the L/N family?"

"Sure. Consider this as a wedding gift from me."

That phone call was short but helpful. The best part is Carmichael didn't ask questions and was ready to help him. 

In a few minutes, Lloyd received the files. It seems like the CIA has been sniffing around. Everything is here. 

Your grandfather has eight kids, but after your father died, that left seven kids. 5 aunts and two uncles, that’s how many opponents you have to deal with.

The fight is different with your uncle and aunts because they don’t mind getting their hands dirty as long as they achieve their goals.

The files have dirt ready to use if the agency wants to blackmail your family. Your uncles embezzled the company money; there are also some cases of sexual harassment.

Your aunts do money laundry using their art gallery and boutique shops. Their husbands are politicians, it's obvious they received a bribed.

He got the info and everything he needed, and next, he opened your files. 

Only your father chose to be low profile. He handles car manufacturers. He’s good at his job, and the car he designed improved. Your mother is just an ordinary housewife. Your family is quite normal than other relatives. 

But the normal life is gone when your two uncles fail a mega project and humiliate the family business. It made your grandfather mad. 

Your grandfather chose your father as the next successor, but before the official announcement, your parents died in a car accident. 

It is still a mystery where the driver went missing. 

There’s a big question mark on the files. A big chance the one who hired the assassins is in your family. 

Your grandfather took you in, and you became a prodigy under his wings. Everyone knew you would be the next successor. 

After high school, you decided to study abroad, not in an Ivy League university your grandfather told you to attend. This is the first time you disobey him. 

He only participated in your graduation and asked you to get a master's at Harvard. 

Lloyd chuckled about the fact you went to the same university “No shit, she's a fellow alumnus.”

This time you did what he asked. While getting a master, your work in the company as an intern. It was difficult, but you learned a lot. 

The way you work in business also improved; your grandfather often asks your opinion to find solutions. The interaction between you both made others jealous. 

There’s also a hospital record of a car and ski accident. All the evidence showed all the equipment was broken on purpose.

"Such a heartless family." Lloyd shook his head; after he dug deeper, he realized your family is more complicated than he thought. Money is more important than blood. 

After finding out what happened, there’s an uneasy feeling knowing you’re alone right now.

Lloyd went into your room to check in; he knew this house security was top-notch, but it doesn’t hurt to check. He could talk to you until you fell asleep if you were still awake. 

When he went in, he saw you sleeping peacefully. 

You were wrapped in a white blanket like a burrito. He looked at you, defenseless like a bunny. 

He leaned down a bit before sitting at the side of the bed; you didn’t even notice. You must be exhausted.

He can’t imagine if he were in your position—four years of running and hiding. Surviving without any military background is quite impressive.

Lloyd knew his job was to protect you and stay professional, but right now, he couldn't help feeling protective towards you; he wanted to get all your relatives to the basement and torture them to death. 

“Don't worry, I won't let you get hurt. I swear in the name of 3 billion dollars." He whispered before leaving the room.

Usually, he doesn’t care if his client is satisfied with how he does his work. But with you, he wants to see you smiling and proud at his job. 

*****

The next day,

The sun was beaming through her blinds, causing you to stir. It’s been a long time since you’ve awakened from a deep sleep. You felt refreshed.

“Rise and shine.” 

Your body jumped; you didn’t realize someone else was in the room. 

There he is, already in his best outfit. He dresses like he wants to go hunting. In contrast, you look like a mess. There’s nothing underneath the blanket since they didn’t provide you with any spare clothes.

You clenched your blanket when he walked towards you. His right knee rests on the bed while you move backward, but he moves faster. You flinched without realizing it. 

As a woman, you know he has a beautiful body at first glance. Even his perfume smells nice. Too bad he’s a lunatic.

While you were lost in thoughts, he swept you with the blanket into his arms, cradled you to his chest, and carried you out of bed.

“Ah! What are you…?!”

Lloyd smirked; he found it amusing to see you caught off guard. “Didn’t you ask for breakfast?”

He carried you to the dining room and put you near his chair. In a few minutes, people appear, their hands carrying a food tray. They put down the food, and there it is. 

You could smell good coffee in a glass, not instant coffee like you always made, and egg benedict. The food looks beautiful. You’ve always wanted to have an aesthetic breakfast. 

You touch the coffee cup, enjoying the warmth in your hand. Lloyd thought you were scared. “There’s no poison in it.”

“I know.” You bring the cup to your lips” I remembered your vows.” You want to giggle, but you hide it by sipping the coffee.

Lloyd burst into laughter. It turned out you were awake. You keep surprising him. He felt like he had achieved something when he saw you enjoying breakfast. 

Suddenly one of the servants knocked on the door. "Sir, they're here."

"Great, let them in."

After he gives permission, you see a group walking into the room. Each of them has a different style.

You have so many questions; Lloyd said, "You are my honor guest. And you deserve the best treatment. I got the best hair stylist, and fashion expert to treat you."

Lloyd smiled generously. "This is my first gift to you."

"After you're done, there will be another surprise waiting for you." He said before leaving.

After the makeover is done, you feel like you are being reborn. It’s been a long time since you got pampered like this. You got to admit he did a great job. 

Before you go down the stairs, you see the silhouette you’ve wished to see. 

“Jimmy.” You ran down to hug him. 

“You're okay. I'm so glad.” Jimmy sighed, relieved; then he talked in his serious voice, "I know we're desperate but not this desperate to make a deal with him."

The moment he woke up, he punched one of the soldiers. No wonder why the car chasing is too much. It was Hansen Security who got hired. He heard about the company. They are famous as gruesome and heartless mercenaries. They will use every method to finish their job.

He was confused, and even though the soldier got hit, he wasn't mad. It turns out you made a deal with their boss. The money you offered was insane. But to you, money is not the issue. 

"I care for you like my own kid. I don’t want you to get hurt."

You want to cry when he says that. You've known him since your grandfather was still alive. He's a man of loyalty, and you're grateful for that. 

"This is why I made a deal with him. I don't want to lose you. Even though we're not related by blood. But to me you're family.”

Jimmy sighed again because you were right. There's nothing else you can do. 

“Ehem, pardon me for interrupt. But boss wants to see you both.” 

The soldier guides both of you to the room. He opened it with a passcode. When the door opened, you were awed by how many screens were inside and computers.

“Sir, the honored guest is here.”

Lloyd was looking at the screen when he turned around and became quiet when he saw you. The stylist he hired did a great job. You look different... in a good way. 

He cleared his throat. “I want to show you something.”

You saw the screen behind him. 

“Before we start planning to made your relative suffer, there’s another thing you should know.”

A picture of a news article and a photo of a wrecked car is shown. 

“Car accident that happened 19 years ago."

Your body flinched when you saw the pictures. It's a taboo topic. Nobody around you will try to open the Pandora box.

But this man… just opens the source of your trauma. 

Jimmy was ready to destroy the hardware if you asked him to. Because this is your nightmare.

On the other hand, Lloyd discovers new facial expressions from you. He likes looking at you as being weak. Lloyd wants to punish you a little bit. He still holds a grudge when you humiliated him last night.

 "I found the missing driver.”

“They made it look like an accident. But I found the driver and the person who hired him."

"Who?!!" You've been looking for the answer but always found a dead end. 

"The eldest child from your 3rd aunt's family."

Your cousin? That most spoiled person you've ever known? 

You remembered another cousin making fun of him, saying he needed a nanny to wipe his ass until he was ten. He couldn't even pass every test unless his parents bribed the schools. 

You heard he worked as a notary, but he was stupid. The land he handled for a mega project doesn't have a permit. While the investors had put their money. For sure, they sued him.

He came to your grandfather, begging and crying for help. 

He was the last person you could ever think of. 

"Your aunt and her husband get rid of all the traces."

Lloyd's words hit you like blows to the chest, and each of them made you lose breath. You always want to know the truth, but the pain is too much. You struggle to stand on your own feet. 

"Yeah…, there's …no way…. he can work ….alone."

Lloyd noticed you start panting, your eyes not focusing anymore on the screen. 

"What about…my other… family? Do they… know?" 

"All of them are working together. " 

"Urgh." The pain in your chest became unbearable. So their condolences at your parents' funeral are an act of pity? And your grandfather? 

That's when you realized. 

Oh, God.

Your grandfather knew the TRUTH. That's why he chose you as the successor to forgive his children. 

Your vision becomes blurry, your legs wobble, and it feels like the floor is moving. 

Lloyd moved fast when he noticed you couldn't stand on your feet. He caught you before you fell. 

Your hand clenched his shirt to make him bend down. Your face and his were so close that you could feel his breath. 

You saw his expression, he was not worried, but you could feel he was amused seeing your reaction. This bastard does this on purpose cause yesterday you embarrassed him.

There’s no way you would cry in front of this psycho. 

"Forgot… what I said….last night. I want them…gone."

Lloyd smirked. His hand removed yours that was holding his shirt. He touched your knuckles and kissed them gently. "As you wish my dear wife."

A/N: What do you guys think about this chapter? If you have any ideas for part 3, please tell me. It will be helpful. 

Don't be shy if you want to be tagged for part 3. 😄💕

This chapter is from Lloyd Hansen's Series - 3 Billion Divorce.

And check out my other stories from Masterlist.

Check out Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Extra Story

Tag list :

@jasminxts @alchemxx @imsolatetothegame @thorinsmistress @bree-lyrie @another-tblr-fangirl @buckysteveloki-me @motivation-idontknowher @cherrybubblebullet @supraveng @avery199 @evansce1 @ridingthehotmessexpress @hoely-maria @katymae12344 ara-theo @rebeccapineapple @spikeluv84

#llyod hansen x y/n #lloyd hansen x fic #lloyd hansen x you #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen x fem!reader #lloyd hansen #soft!dark lloyd hansen imagine #the grey man #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x reader #chris evans characters #3billiondivorce #soft!dark lloyd hansen x y/n #soft!dark lloyd hansen #soft!dark lloyd hansen x reader #dark!lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen x reader

[mimisempai]

Dear Crowley…

Summary

A sudden gust of wind blew a sheet of paper written by Aziraphale into Crowley's hands as a word suddenly caught his eye. His own name. 

Impossible, of course, for him to resist the urge to read it.

Notes

Not much time for today's story, but I hope it will be just as enjoyable.

On Ao3

Rating G -  1165 words

"Angel, I'm back! It's windy out there!"

As if to illustrate his point, a gust of wind rushed through the still-open door, and by the time the demon had closed it, the wind had blown away a few sheets of paper that twirled around before falling to the carpet in the middle of the bookshop.

Crowley picked them up and stopped when he saw his name in Aziraphale's elegant handwriting on one of the sheets.

Curiosity got the better of him and he began to read what was written.

Dear Diary,

Or should I say, 

Dear Crowley,

Crowley figured since it was addressed to him, it wouldn't hurt if he read it, so he continued.

Dear Crowley, because what I'm going to write today concerns you.

As do many of my diary entries, but this is the first time I'm addressing it to you.

I have so much to say to you.

When I met you, Crowley, nothing prepared me for you. 

So beautiful, so colorful, so bright in a sky that didn't yet sparkle. So full of life and passion.

How could I not have been immediately enchanted?

Circumstances should have made us sworn enemies after your fall, but they didn't. 

For you and I never really fit the mold. Though it took me much longer than you to realize it.

I have been like a moth drawn to the flame, but I have so often rejected that draw out of blindness and fear.

But you never stopped being there, a constant warm flame that never went out.

Thank you for always being patient with me. For letting me go my own way at my own pace, even the times when I stopped moving forward or went backward.

I'm going to get even sappier, but after all, only I will read his words, so I can indulge myself, can't I?

Crowley, my love.

I call you my love here until one day I have the courage to call you that out loud.

Crowley gasped and felt his cheeks redden slightly at the thought of hearing Aziraphale call him that one day.

My love.

Overcome with emotion, he sat down on the sofa and resumed reading.

I love that you're the last thing I see at night and the first thing I see in the morning.

I love walking through the bookshop and seeing pieces of you everywhere, reminding me that this has become our home. That this is not just my bookshop, but the place where we are now building our life together.

I love what we've become. This us.

You're strong, you're my safe place, I can lean on you, but I also know your weaknesses. I know when you're hurting, when you're afraid, when you doubt. Because you trust me enough to show me and allow me to be your safe place too.

Thank you for letting me be your strength, your support, your comfort in these moments.

I could go on telling you how much I adore you, but it would take me at least ten pages to tell you how much I love you and why, and now that I'm at this point, I realize how silly that idea is. 

I'm going to throw away this piece of paper and tell you all of this in person as soon as I have the courage. Because you deserve to hear it from me. 

Until then, please know that I love you more than anything.

Crowley dropped the hand holding the letter and let his head fall back as a soft smile played on his lips.

Aziraphale...

Only someone like him could write something like that and make it so adorable. His sweet angel.

The demon stood up and carefully folded the sheet of paper before tucking it into his pocket. He wouldn't let the angel throw away such a treasure.

Seeing Aziraphale's coat hanging, he realized the angel was home and suddenly wondered why he hadn't answered when he had called him.

Seeing no sign of the angel on the ground floor, he climbed the stairs.

He called softly, "Angel?"

Still no answer.

He approached the bedroom, and there, on the doorstep, he couldn't help but smile, a smile filled with both affection and wonder.

Aziraphale slept on the bed, the book he was reading open on his chest.

The demon realized it was the first time the angel had slept anywhere but in his arms or at his side.

Crowley couldn't help but smile warmly as the words he'd just read danced before his eyes.

He approached cautiously and nestled close to Aziraphale's head. He moved his hand forward and gently ran his fingers through the angel's soft curls. Aziraphale smiled in response and awoke gently. He turned his head toward Crowley and leaned into the demon's hand as it stroked his hair.

He opened his eyes and his smile widened as his gaze met Crowley's, now very close.

"Crowley, my l-dear?"

The demon, who had clearly heard the slip of the tongue, said softly, "Shhh..." and put a finger to Aziraphale's mouth, who kissed him playfully.

Then Crowley began to speak, his eyes in Aziraphale's, "Dear Aziraphale, I received your letter.  I know I may not have had the right to read it, but I don't regret it and I will be happy to answer it."

"Cr-"

Crowley shook his head, "Let me finish, will you?"

He kissed his forehead gently and continued, "You gave me hope when I thought I had none. When you, an angel, spread your wing to protect me, a demon. You made me forget the loneliness of being a demon of another kind when you showed me that you were an angel of another kind as well, making our two loneliness the first we."

Crowley paused for a moment as he saw a tear roll down Aziraphale's cheek. He wiped it away with his thumb, kissed him gently and continued, "You make me laugh, Aziraphale, you make me smile when sometimes I just can't. I'm not afraid to fail because I know you'll catch me. When I don't feel like going on, you're the one who keeps me going. I love that we take care of each other, that we lean on each other. And finally, I'm going to be as sappy as you, I also love that you're the first thing I see in the morning and the last thing I see at night. And I like the idea of that being forever."

Crowley moved even closer and whispered against Aziraphale's lips, "I love you too..." He placed a light kiss on his lips and continued, "More than anything.

The angel, his eyes shining, whispered, "My love..." before pulling the demon to him and pressing his lips to his in a long, tender kiss.

Because sometimes words, whether on paper or spoken aloud, weren't enough to express what you felt.

Because sometimes happiness was speechless, you just had to know it was there.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Ineffable Growing Love series : here (After season 2)

Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here (Before season 2)

#good omens #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #ineffable boyfriends #aziraphale #crowley #good omens fanfiction #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x aziraphale #GOS2Spoilers

[queen-dahlia]

𝐆𝐢𝐥𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐭 𝐯𝐨𝐧 𝐎𝐛𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐧

𝗠𝗮𝗶𝗻 𝗥𝗼𝘂𝘁𝗲: 𝗘𝗽𝗶𝘀𝗼𝗱𝗲 𝟬

I'm can finally rest! I haven't got a wink of sleep since yesterday (இ﹏இ`｡)

Note: Translation is not 100% accurate. Expect grammatical errors.

// : alternate translation

True love—for me, it's my last hope.

I decided not to love anyone anymore.

I decided not to trust anyone anymore.

There is no salvation and no compromise in a world of deceit and corruption in power.

I can't think of any other way to destroy it than by violence.

There will be much bloodshed.

Many will lose their lives.

Still, I decided to literally become the "disaster of the world."

The boy who once loved mankind is dead.

The boy who was heartbroken by the deaths of others is gone.

The plan was going well. Already, the world had progressed to such an extent that the next step would change it.

And yet, somehow, fate was whimsical.

══════════════════

Gilbert: "Rhodolite's Belle?"

Roderich: "Yes. Michael has informed me that you know her. You know, she's been selected as "Belle"."

Gilbert: "Hmm..."

When I heard the story, I felt an unusually strong emotion bordering on anger.

In Rhodolite, there is a "Belle System," in which the king is selected by the person with the most beautiful heart in the country.

One day, a commoner who had been living a peaceful life up to that point is suddenly chosen as Belle, and heavy responsibilities are pressed upon her.

I've always wondered how the selection process works.

But it was just another country. Obsidian and myself were supposed to be uninvolved.

ーUntil she was selected.

Gilbert: "The king is dead, isn't he? By now, the news of the king's death should not be known to the rest of the world."   //   "So, the king is dead. By now, "news of the king's death must not be known to other countries"."

Gilbert: "I wonder if they're saying something like, "You'll have to be the Belle when you find out our secret."   //   "I wonder if they say something like, "You know our secret; you have no choice but to become Belle."

Gilbert: "Poor thing. It's not just me; it's like the Rhodolite is watching you too."   //   "Poor little thing. I can't believe Rhodolite is on you and not just me."

Roderich: "... Your instructions, please."

Gilbert: "Well... I'm just a bystander. Just one of the readers who enjoys listening to the stories she spins."

Gilbert: "It would be foolish of me to intervene in that story, wouldn't it? As usual, I decided to take the high groundー"

Gilbert: ". . . . . ."

Roderich: "Can I help you?"

Gilbert: "No..."

Suddenly, I look down at the papers scattered on my desk.

The scribbled words tell the story of a certain innocent woman.

But the story stops halfway through.

Months went by without any further progress.

(I know her. But that's just a fantasy.)

(I can't let the Obsidian royal family get involved with a mere bookstore girl.)

(But if it's "Belle"...)

(Obsidian has good reason to mess around.)

It was really a whimsical and, at first, deeply unintentional scheme.

If I hadn't heard Belle's story, I would never have thought of it.

(To meet and die, or not to meet and die.)

(Then yeah... I prefer the former.)

Gilbert: "I'm sure there's a goodwill meeting coming up soon for Benitoite and Rhodolite?"

Roderich: "Yes, there is. They will be held exactly as in previous years."

Gilbert: "I see... Yeah, that's good."

Gilbert: "Roderich, please notify them that Obsidian will be participating this year."   //   "Roderich, please inform Obsidian that this year we will also participate."

Roderich: "Yes."

Roderich: "... Yes?"

Gilbert: "I'll go. I just want it to be held at Rhodolite."   //   "I'll go. But I want the venue to be held at Rhodolite."

Gilbert: "Benitoite is a long way away, and I'd rather stay in Rhodolite than anything else."

Roderich: "... Are you insane?"

Gilbert: "Oh, man, have I ever been insane?"

Roderich: "No. But I think "the doctor" will stop you."

Gilbert: "Don't tell anyone."

Roderich: ". . . . . ."

Gilbert: "I'm just being selfish for the last time, okay? I want to see the little rabbit."

Roderich: "What are you going to do when you see her? With all due respect, Sir, meeting Prince Gilbert isー"

Gilbert: "I know. It's just hell for her."

Getting involved could drag her down into a swamp of malice and turn her pure and beautiful heart black.

Knowing all of this, I chose my first and last private desire.

(Because I'm a big villain, you know.)

Gilbert: "Get ready, okay?"

Roderich: "At least, I'm going with you."

Gilbert: "Do whatever you like."

I invented all sorts of villainous reasons and purposes to meet her later on.

Instead of just "meeting her for a purpose", it's "fulfilling a purpose to meet her".

No matter what happens, the fundamental principle remains the same.

I didn't realize at the time that it seemed like a small difference, but it was a big difference.

══════════════════

(Well... So that's how I came to be at Rhodoliteーー)

The first thing I did when I came to the castle was to intentionally get lost.

The map of the castle had been drilled into my head by the information of the spy who had come to the castle and snuck in. 

It is easy to guess the room assigned to the little rabbit.

(I knew they wouldn't let me attend the goodwill meeting, but that turned out to be a bad thing.)

It's no wonder that Rhodolite took a back seat.

They must not have dreamed that the Prince of Obsidian would know Belle.   //   They must not have dreamed that the prince of Obsidian knew Belle.

I knock on the door, suppressing my feelings.

Emma: "Yes, who is it?"

Gilbert: "Oh, I knew there was someone there. I'm sorry, but may I ask you something?"

The door opened fearfully - and the woman who came out from inside was totally different from what I had imagined.

That's funny. "He" gave me the impression that she was a little younger...

She was an adult woman with clear eyes that were not stagnant at all.

I put a smile on my face so that she wouldn't notice my slight turmoil.   //   I put a smile on my face so that she wouldn't realize how slightly upset I was.

Gilbert: "Good evening, young lady."

Emma: "You are?"

Gilbert: "I'm not much to call myself, but I'm in a bit of trouble."

The woman is clearly alarmed and frightened.

Although I did not identify myself, she seemed to sense that the presence in front of her was "evil".

(You have a keen intuition. As expected of Belle.)

She has a good eye for people - and the impression I get from hearing about her and seeing her in person is different.

Gilbert: "I came to the castle to attend the goodwill meeting..."

Gilbert: "While admiring the interior of the castle, I got separated from the servant who was supposed to be my guide."

Gilbert: "It’s a bit embarrassing, but I’m a little lost."

Gilbert: "There isn’t much time before the meeting starts, so I just knocked on the first door I saw light peeking out from."

Gilbert: "I'm so glad you're here."

A woman with a face as lovely as a little bunny rabbit puts on a beautiful smile for an unknown man.   //   The woman with a lovely face, like a little rabbit, gives a beautiful smile to the unknown man.

She seemed to have made up her mind.

Gilbert: "Are you... a noble daughter from Rhodolite?"

Emma: "Yes. I am staying at the castle for my studies."

(Lies.)

Gilbert: "I see. I hear that women who have studied in the castle are sometimes promoted to the bureaucracy. You must be a very talented woman."

Emma: "I'm sorry. My butler will be back shortly, and when he does, he will show you the wayー"

Gilbert: "Yeah, I've decided. I'll let you show me the way."

Emma: "Uh…"

Gilbert: "This must be some kind of fate. Of course, you'll join me, right?

Of course, by this time, I was already thinking bad things.

When I met her, any faint hesitation I had disappeared.

(Because she looked more "beautiful" than I had imagined...)

(If it's going to get dirty, I'd rather get it dirty myself.)

══════════════════

Guard: "O-Obsidian's first prince, His Highness Gilbert von Obsidian, has arrived."

With a clang and the deliberate sound of a cane, we enter the hall of the goodwill meeting.

Just like that, the numerous royalty and nobility gathered there all fell silent at once.

Gilbert: "Ahaha, we look like the center of attention. I feel like I just became the main character."

Emma: "You..."

Gilbert: "I'm Gilbert, the first prince of Obsidian. Nice to meet you, Little Bunny."

(Now let the evil begin.)

══════════════════

Luke: "ーAnd?"

Gilbert: "Hmm?"

The next day, I visited Luke's room on a whim.

The new prince of Rhodolite sat by the window, unafraid of the arrival of the prince of Obsidian.

He is yawning carelessly. **

Luke: "What made you decide to come to Rhodolite?"

Gilbert: "Well..."

(I honestly don't want to be asked why.)

"I want to meet Miss Bunny," but "I still don't know why I want to meet her."

I was interested, I was curious—it doesn't quite fit into words.

(There are things I hope to see from the little rabbit. Some things I'd like to see through her.)

(I can explain it however much I want, but what is it? This feeling...)

(... I don't understand. That's weird.)

All emotions are wrapped up in a smile, and an index finger is placed on my lips.

Gilbert: "Secret."

#サイバード #イケメン王子 #ギルベルト=フォン=オブシディアン #ikemen prince #ikemen prince gilbert von obsidian #ikemen prince gilbert #ikeprince #ikeprince gilbert von obsidian #ikeprince gilbert #gilbert von obsidian #ikeprince jp #ikepri jp #ikeprince translation #ikepri gilbert route spoilers #ikemen prince spoilers #ikeprince spoilers #ikepri spoilers #dahlia's bad translation

[zsakuva]

saku! i have two questions:)

i’m p sure mentioned your favorite book was lotr, but do you have any other recommendations? oh or maybe an anime/manga you really like? anything is fine hehe

my second one is, what inspires you to write? i’m sure it’s something you’ve been doing for a long time, but in general, it seems like whether it’s through your videos or your degree, you’re always trying to tell some sort of story? it’s amazing to me how you treat your characters as real people, if that makes sense? it’s almost like you’ve met them and they’re not just words on paper. i know a couple of artists treat their characters/work as such, but i’ve never really seen it like i have with you. i’m just a bit curious about what exactly makes you tick? please ignore this ask if it’s too personal haha i’m just genuinely interested:)

have a good day with many crumpets, tea, and cat cuddles!!!!

My favourite film trilogy is LotR, but I don't read! I'm in the middle of reading The Fellowship of the Ring, but reading makes me tired so I seldom do it! Unfortunately, that means I can't recommend any books or manga, and I haven't watched anime in a long time either~

Everything inspires me to write! It's a way of escapism for me, and for as long as I can remember, I've loved creating fictional stories. Characters themselves are the vessels in which the story is being told, and they drive everything. There is so much in a life that occurs which defines one's sense of self, and it's ever-changing. I love exploring internal conflicts, the tug-of-war over nature vs nurture, and the long-lasting effects many of us carry.

Almost all of the characters I've made have attributes of someone I know, a fictional person, or myself. It's also through this medium where I can test decisions some people might make in intense situations. A prime example would be Isaac Rhoades, a man traumatised by a past that dictates his every decision until he learns how to loosen the reins--if only by a little. The listener challenges his beliefs while also providing him a way to confront what it means to love, to trust, and to hope.

Another would be Alex (a taboo name for many of you, I know haha). The events of his past fuel his insecurities of the present, and that powers his decisions for the future. A lot of my characters act this way because I believe many of us are the same. His listener is no different. One has dealt with their trauma in one way, the other in another way, and then they clash. Sometimes, it's easy to put the pieces together, but not always. And that's why I like to base actions on character because humans themselves are contradictive, stubborn, and in many cases, illogical.

Then, there are other characters who I use to explore certain themes, such as Niall. His story is heart-breaking yet relatable; I wanted to delve more into his self-perception which was crafted by bullying and homophobia, and how he could possibly shift towards a positive direction.

Audio roleplays are great for my creativity, but they only scratch the surface in terms of how I would normally develop characters and their potential arcs. Novel formats are more my forte, but I do enjoy the platform that I have to fan the flame of angst, fluff, and everything in between!

#audio roleplay #boyfriend audios #sakuverse #zsakuva #isaac rhoades

[vegalocity]

Hiii the other day I was reminiscing about your oblivion fic, (it's my favorite fic of all time), do you plan on continuing it? Or if you're leaving it (which is fine btw, I don't wanna put pressure on you) would you tell us how you were planning to end it?

Okay so first off-

aww thank you! I'm so glad you enjoy it that much! And second off-

....

under the cut

I DID have two last installments in mind as i was planning out how things would go, But i wasn't able to get them to paper before i lost steam--In large part because @unseelie-robynx And I ended up fleshing out the Bad End from Side B And came up with a sort of splinter AU we call the Tyrant Prince AU (for more info click here!) (also Robynx has done a BUNCH of additions to the Bad end idea with her own path, it's real fun) I might go back to the original story i don't know at this juncture, so assuming i won't i'll just tell you my plans-

So i had part 5 and part 6 planned out- Part five (Ovation) was going to be about the rest of the Monkie Crew finding out about what was going on with Red

Everyone of course would react differently, Xiaojiao is trying to figure out the practicalities of un-brainwashing someone, Tang is morbidly curious about both Red's mental state and Oblivion itself (Ironically the true difference in Oblivion Classic and the Tyrant Prince timeline is that in TP Freenoodles didn't get together until AFTER Xiaotian went off the deep end into 'mind control is fine actually' but in Oblivion Classic They're long married because there was gonna be a joke about Pigsy threatening to divorce Tang if he tried to use him as a guinea pig for mind control studies) And Pigsy is sure 'mind control' is just Xiaotian not understanding how drugs work and thinks Red's just Suuuppeerrr High, Sandy is most concerned with keeping Red comfortable so when the 'high' fades he won't have TOO Massive a crash.

But Red IS starting to sober up, if slowly, and once more tells Xiaotian he loves him- which Xiaotian asks again for him to stop,

And it's the first time Red's sober enough to say no to him. I never got to this scene but i imagined Red being both THOROUGHLY addicted to the mind control present, but also getting sober enough to know that something's not right. though the only thing he can peice together as not right is that he's not going to pretend like he doesn't 'love' him when he does and that he 'doesnt need oblivion' which his supposedly also does.

And this is the moment where Xiaotian decides he can't pretend to know what's best for Red, OR that he'd be a good anchor for Red to cling to while he gets sober, and he has to just admit defeat and properly deliver him back to his parents.

He explains the situation as best as he can to them, but they don't really trust or believe him, but he hands red over, says they don't have to tell him anything past this point, but for his own peace of mind he'd LIKE to know if Red starts doing better, and just leaves. (doing his best to ignore Red's crying for him and begging not to 'give him' to his parents because 'he belongs to him' and all that)

Which leads into Part 6 which is basically just a one scene epilogue

it's two years since then, the bull family hasn't been seen hide nor hair of excepting one or two sightings of bull clones buying groceries, and Red Son returns to the city, clean for long enough that he still has some questions and tests that need to be done. It's awkward, but Xiaotian agrees to whatever Red Son needs.

It's simple things, asking for Xiaotian's perspective on the whole event, if his Parents DID tell him how he'd been doing (they did not) and asking if he gets the memories of the clones when they destabilize (He does not)

And then ultimately- asks him to order him to do something. anything. Said firmly, said like he EXPECTS him to do it. So he can be SURE he can say no.

Xiaotian obliges, something simple like 'take off your glasses' which is immediately responded to with 'Fuck off Noodle Boy'

They're both pleased.

Red Son states his parents might try to take over the world again, and he'd probably supply them with tech, but he's not sure if he's ready to get back into the fights himself. it feels... wrong, still. That he's not THAT recovered yet. And perhaps when his therapist hears he sort of went rogue for this, he would be scolded for trying to rush the process, but...

there was one more thing he wants to know. Something he NEEDS to know for himself. Because if he doesn't know then he'll spend the rest of his life questioning it.

Xiaotian is about to ask what he means but Red Son rushes up to him-

and Kisses him.

Because he needs to know if that was real, or just another thing the clone did to him.

Admittedly i wanted the result to be ambiguous, Xiaotian pulls away and Red Son immediately fire teleports away, and we switch to his POV, and he's several buildings away, still watching Xiaotian as he looks around for him, looking worried. And Red Son takes a breath, and looks back in the direction he knows the club once was, and heads home with a smile.

the Last line being 'But now he Knew'

#Oblivion Series #letters to Vega #Honestly it's much more melancholic than anything else at the end #I myself honestly do not know the answer to Red's final Question #But that's my thoughts on the 'official' ending of the Oblivion series #I think DBK and Iron Fan aren't GREAT parents but they DO sincerely love their boy and want whats best for him #so i think they'd properly understand that it's time for professional help (though that 'professional' help might initially be #some sort of healer whom would THEN reccomend them toward therapy) #for the bull parents i think it would also be a pride thing? like #Red got this bad and they didn't even notice anything was wrong and needed the Monkey Brat to drop him off and tell them about it #thats a pride shot if there's any #(super secret secondary horror story about Red being Mia in the Evil Dead Remake lmao) #Vega speaks

[mbbsgf]

hello hello!! idk if there's a month or a day for bullying awareness but i would like to share my story i guess. i've been bullied since i was 9 but i was really young so i didn't really think anything of it. i thought it was normal and that it was how kids acted towards each other until it started to seriously affect me mentally, when i was 13 and got in middle school. it got really bad to the point where i didn't want to go anymore. this group of girls in my class tried to set me up with a guy because, according to them, we'd "look good together". i tried telling them he wasn't my type and that i didn't like him but they didn't care they kept trying because "a fat girl deserved a fat boy" as they said. kids would hit me and throw stuff at me in class and it got to the point where i snapped and started crying right in front of the class begging them to stop. when i was 14, i wrote a goodbye letter to my friends, family and teachers. the thing is my best friend found that letter and gave it to an adult from school that i'm forever grateful for. she called my parents and had a talk with them. i was mad at my best friend back then but i realized if she didn't show that letter to that adult i trusted, i would've been dead by now. my best friend saved my life in a way and i'm forever grateful for her for that. i owe her everything. then highschool wasn't as bad but i was still terrified to speak up and make friends due to past traumas so people thought i was weird and i would just exclude myself from any group projects and everything else that would mean working with people from my class. i would just physically be here but no one would pay attention to me and that's what i wanted at that time of my life. the first year and a half was just that. go to school, get through the day, go home. i had no friends and my grades were okay i guess, then i started having friends and my grades went from okay to terrible. i didn't pass so i cried every night because i disappointed my family but mostly myself. then i tried to pass again the next year but i didn't pass. that was my breaking point. failing once? okay, i can try again. failing twice? i was a disgrace. i gave up everything and did nothing at all for almost a year, then i found a job as a cashier. it went terrible, i'm fired. my boss was an asshole to me. he took my kindness for weakness i guess and since i'm still a teenager, it was easier to take me in, play me and use me and then throw me away. i signed the papers proving i was fired this afternoon. i doubt i'll ever recover. this job was so special and i loved it. it was my first job ever. to me, first jobs are like first loves, they're always special and cherished forever. i wish i did things differently because i can't stop blaming myself for getting fired when it's not my fault. he didn't give me a reason. i feel used and played. i feel like shit. i already saw myself in my 20s, still working at this store only for it to last a fucking month. i've been crying all afternoon. i tried so hard to be good enough for the job. i did everything they told me to do, treated every customer like princesses and princes. i did a fucking great job and no one told me that. no one told me they're proud. i wanted someone to be proud of me so bad. anyways, i kind of drifted off the topic. all that to say, you're never alone. i'll always be here for all of you. every life is precious on its own way. you can't give up just yet, there's still so much to live. life doesn't end because of people's opinions, life doesn't end when your boss uses you, life doesn't end when people tell you what they think of you. life doesn't end because of what somebody thinks of you. you're so much more than someone's opinion. i love you all, you're never alone.

— mar🪽

#marie speaks. #bullying awareness.

[artistsfuneral]

I quite liked your Witcher!Jaskier short fic! The idea that Calanthe allowed a single Witcher to remain on her lands and the pull of destiny brought them both there even in such different circumstances really caught my interest. Will you be continuing it?

Awww thank you!

Prooobably won't be writing that fic anymore, so I will just tell you what was supposed to happen, hope you don't mind :)

So the base is this: Jaskier once was a witcher of the (redacted) school, but for - apparently - no reason, left everything and everyone he knew behind to serve the crown of Cintra as a personal tool, if you will

Obviously the other witchers didn't like that so they started attacking Jaskier and the crown-wearer (Calanthe's father in this case), verbally and physically

The problem is that Jaskier is mighty strong in this one, like Eskel he's very good at magic stuff, super intelligent and high endurance etc etc - in a way he's the perfect soldier

After to many wichters got fatally wounded or died, Cintra became kind of a no-go-place for them, though every once in a while someone is stupid enough to try and take Jaskier down

The story starts with Geralt entering the cintran palace at Pavetta's betrothal, where he meets Jaskier for the first time and the reader learns about all those things I just told you

Geralt isn't really afraid of Jaskier, (he actually could take him in a fight, I tell you know) but the not-witcher makes him really really uncomfortable for a few reasons, but he's there on a mission

What am I talking about? You see, Pavetta hired Geralt to protect Duny and while Geralt doesn't want to get involved in any of those weird politics, he kinda does need the money she offered him and the curse Duny is under intrigues him

So yeah, Duny appears a la hedgehogman, Calanthe orders Jaskier to kill the monster and Geralt's and Jaskier's swords meet

Peculiarly enough, Geralt wins

Because Jaskier wanted him to

Jaskier, who hasn't said a single word yet, had let his actions speak louder than anything - the problem is, Calanthe who knows what Jaskier looks like when he's fighting, has noticed too

She starts punishing Jaskier, who does nothing to protect himself, so Geralt steps in and his brain short circuits as he calls for the law of surprise - the unborn Ciri is now bound to Geralt and what he doesn't understand yet, so is Jaskier

Years pass, things happen and Cintra goes up in flames

Geralt finds Ciri in a forest, crying over Jaskier, who is heavily wounded after doing everything to protect Ciri, Jaskier sees Geralt, smiles and passes out from blood loss

Geralt tries to take Ciri away to safety but the girl is having none of it, desperately screaming and crying that she won't leave Jaskier, that he's her best friend, that she will do everything to protect him because that's what he has to do for her, because surprise surprise Jaskier is cursed to serve the Cintran Crown until a rightful ruler (with elder blood) sets him free

So now Geralt somehow has to get Ciri and Jaskier to safety (Kaer Morhen), preferably without either of them dying

(this is the part where Yennefer and Triss help and they also discover the whole elder blood discourse etc)

Obviously Geralt and Jaskier fall in love along the way and it turns out that Jaskier has quite the cheerful personality when he's not oppressed by a certain warrior queen and half her courg constantly watching him

He still can't talk, that's part of the curse (to make him a perfect soldier and so on) but he is very quick with paper and ink and over the years Ciri has become quite excellent at interpreting his wild gestures and weird faces

In the beginning the other witchers are definitely not thrilled to suddenly have a hated "traitor" amongst themselves, but with Geralt, Ciri and the sorcerers explaining everything they slooooowly begin to trust him

Then there's this whole thing with a nilfgaardian king that decided to just declare a full on war to every single witcher and it's all vefy dramatic and heartbreaking and there's a lot of cried confessions and then everything goes to shit when said king captures Ciri and she's crowned Queen right there during the battle and suddenly you can hear Jaskier scream her name and she's sobbing and crying as she hears his voice for the first time, thinking it all ends there and that they have lost

But oh, hold on, the curse is broken and with it Jaskier regains a loooot of strength and he berserks across the battlefield like a parent throwing a car off their child with bare hands while simultaneously fighting three bears and a moose

They win because Ciri stabs the shit out of the nilfgaardian king, which also makes her queen of nilfgaard and yeah

Lots of crying, lots of hugs and then there was supposed to be a calm epilog where Ciri is back at the cintran palace where Geralt and Jaskier first met and Jaskier stands by her side as she is traditionally crowned queen and one of the first things she does in front of everybody is bow down to Jaskier

#the witcher #artistsfuneral about the witcher #geraskier #jaskier #geralt #witcher #long post #ask answered

[livseses]

Fuck, shit, as well as damn it ("blast it all to the lower depths" as Ny would say). Idk if we posted this nonsense already. But fuck it. Gonna post it anyways.

Lol

Lmao

Fucking ha even

So we got

DID

(Pt: So we got DID)

We found out from our therapist the other day that she had updated our diagnosis. She went on leave for a few months, and we had a wonderful substitute therapist who had experience treating DID. After she had gotten back she consulted with said substitute and they both agreed that our symptoms matched up more with DID than OSDD-1.

We were fine with this, and she explicitly said that it was due to the memory issues. When we walked through the DES and diagnostic criteria, we didn't think our memory was "beyond normal forgetting". 8-9 months later, and a fresh set of eyes on us, and she got enough of a picture to check that box.

The only real complaint is that we don't know when we would have found this out, because it had come up from an unrelated conversation. But we've come to trust her well enough to believe that it was a simple mistake and not something more abusive of her authority.

But it's left us in a funny place. We've always thought our memory was shit, but not that shit. ADHD working memory out the door, and SDAM tossing the video feeds into the garbage. Nothing dissociative for the most part. Just weird brain quirks with memory.

But after getting hit with this, it's been, like I said, kinda funny feeling. Hell, read the first paragraph. We had agreed yesterday to pick my girlfriend up from work today, and didn't remember that until after the missed calls. That kinda shook us.

We've had missing days a plenty. Times where we were jazzed by the realization that Friday was one (1) day closer than we thought. Times where we were the opposite of jazzed because we missed a class (or a fucking final exam) because we thought we had another day left in the week.

We don't remember more than a handful of experiences from before college, and they dwindle the further back we go. But we know the facts. This kid with our deadname did/said/experienced X, Y, or Z. That kind of stuff. That's always been our memory. That's always been "normal forgetting".

Appointments, obligations, scheduled tasks. They all get missed until we can't do anything about them. We rely on routine. Therapy a 4 pm on Tuesdays. Oh it's at 3? Or on Monday? Guess we're not going. Need to call the doctor during business hours. But it's the weekend so we can't. Oh now it's the evening so we can't. Whoopsie, it's Saturday again and we need to call the doctor during business hours. Oh and file those papers before the kidos arrive at preschool. Gotta remember to file those papers. But it's time to prep for class and all the prep is done so we're incredibly bored and twiddling our thumbs. Kiddos are here but FUCK forgot to file the papers. Maybe after class? Oh yeah, all the tables are clean and nothing else to do but head home so that we can scream and panic because we need to file those papers in the morning before the kiddos get to class.

I don't recall telling this story before. Wait no, the bored look in your eyes reminds me that I saw that look last time I told you this story again.

It's strange and surreal right now to hammer home that yeah, this isn't "normal forgetting". Fuck I remember thinking that maybe the ADHD memory poo would count enough for criterion B. How much does our memory suck and we've just compensated hard? How much do we forget that we forget?

There's something important I need to stress btw. All of this ramble, all of these memory issues, all of this forgetting and amnesia? All of it is irrespective of switches and headmates (save maybe the lost days). DID and plural memory issues almost always treat forgetting as something done between members. It's so frequently held that the memory is held by someone else.

While that's true in many cases, it's absolutely not universal. Our Dx comes from our recurrent gaps in our recall that's not consistent with ordinary forgetting. Not an inability to recall the memories of other headmates. Hell our most recent experience with that was when Ny agreed to pick up my gf, and she forgot; we all forgot.

Maybe that's a nitpick. Maybe I'm being particular. Maybe I'm annoyed. I don't know that our treatment would be any different if we kept OSDD-1 under the notion that DID required intra-idenity amnesia.

But yeah memory is fuck. Ramble is done. I hope this isn't something we posted yesterday or something. But if it is, that's pretty fucking funny to us.

-Faye

#faye post #actually plural #system stuff #did #osdd

[kerink]

dundeelemonade

I KNOOOWWWW i am just like. you know. sending vibes across time and space. hoping that he gets a clue and he can start figuring shit out sooner than later. au where he gets an inkling of how this place works a little bit faster and he gets over himself and he. and martin, martin he’s. he’s happy. keri, au where martin finds a niche for himself without all the pain and heartbreak and miscommunication. now i know that one of the tenets of the wtse au is that martin doesn’t get what he wants but i just think he could have fun running a thrift shop or smth, and being passive aggressively polite at people who dare try to shop there. britishly bitchy, in a way that brings him satisfaction, and he can come home at the end of the day feeling like he’s got a full life, instead of being dependent on jon & co to be the structure he builds his life around. idk i just love him and i am depraved enough to want to give him nice things, even just theoretically.

dee i am going to 🅱️ite you

between martin and jon, martins the one who ends up with a satisfying life. he's the one who heals and grows and changes the most. he's the one who controls his own destiny.

martin gets a job first, sure it's at carlos' lab, but he gets that job because of his knowledge and expertise. he becomes an adjunct scientist and is able to understand night vale's strangeness in ways that the other scientists can't because they have no foundation or frame of reference to work off of. to them, night vale is Strange and that's it. but martin knows this strangeness, he's familiar with this strangeness. and he is missed after he leaves because he is valuable, immensely valuable. and it's so corrective for him, to have a job where he's important and respected and he gets to tell people much more qualified than him that they're wrong and then he gets to quit

martin makes friends first. real actual friends, not the weird thing jon and cecil have going on where they connect through the hallways of the beholding's library and think each other's thoughts and feel each other's feelings. he makes friends the awkward and stilted and excited and anxious way real people do. he has his own calendar and does things the other's don't know about and has stories to tell at dinner.

martin understands night vale first. he refuses to be an unwitting victim again, he refuses to be a pawn again, he refuses to blindly trust jon again. he knows now that jon is the archivist before he's anything else. he's omniscient and thinks he knows best and will try to control everyone and everything. and he's not a bad person martin knows that, but, well. he needs to have a handle on his own shit. he needs to have independence. he can't just sit around the office filing paper and fetching tea. hes the man who walked through hell and murdered god. he wants to carry that power with him forever, cultivate it, nurture it. he wants that to be true. so he walks night vales streets and literally maps everything out. he tries to leave, over and over and over. he listens to NVCR until cecil's cryptic doublespeak makes sense.

martin grows first. he has to brave night vale and tolerate his interloper status. he walks the side walk, smoking but visible, corporal, there, because he won't be shut away again. part of being truly seen is risking being rejected and he knows he has to become okay with that. he knows that if he doesn't risk the mortifying ordeal of being known then he will end up being Lonely again. so he goes out and shows up over and over and over. he visits every shop, he (desperately) tries every tea, he goes to the grocery just to try to figure out what here is actually food. he brute forces his way into the community, hammering against his own desire to disappear and his need to make this new life work until he finally breaks through as a pillar of the community.

martin who formed his own bowling league, martin who's an active member of the PTA, martin who gets an authorship credit on the research papers coming out of carlos' lab, martin who has boys nights at big rico's speak easy, martin who gets car sick so he has to learn to drive

whenever benny and i talk about jon traveling through the doors, whether its the old oak ones to desert bluffs too or helen's, martin's always the door stop.

martin's not just a pillar of the community but he's the pillar of the family. he's jon's anchor, as he explores what it means to be a person, even if he's no longer human. he's cecil support person, as he begins to gain comfort in stories about his childhood, and how what his mother did to him changed him so irreversibly. he's carlos light house, keeping him firmly grounded in humanity as he keeps running away with night vale's madness.

and martin can be all of these things for them because in the first few months of them being here, martin took a good long look at himself and said "what is the life you want to have" and he did everything in his power to become the man he wants to be

#wtse

[profound-bouquetbird]

Hi! could I make a request? I would like you to write hcs about young eda (maybe young raine, odalia, lilith too) but in modern, real life. I don't know what specifically, some high school anecdotes, hobbies, Daily data, her social media presence? Just reconforting one shots, ¡Thanks!

Well.. The request is kind of confusing but I'll try my best!

I included young eda (of course), young raine and young lilith (I refuse to write 4 odalia)

Sorry if this request takes 2 long to get out, but I tried to write the characters as in character as possible (if that makes sense-) and basically just tried to make it as Canon sounding as possible

I'm writing eda and lilith together, but separately... If that makes any sense-

Warning: not proof read

We're just gonna talk about what they'll be mostly doing & what their ranks in school will be, okay? Okay.

I see Eda and Lilith being inseparable in early stages of high school, but the more they got used to the school, the more they got comfortable going separate ways and making friends

They of course still talk to each other during school hours, it's just less frequent since they have totally different social lives

While Eda took the title of the jock/surprisingly smart kid and was more extroverted and has made more friends throughout high school. But just because she has more friends doesn't mean she's more comfortable around them, she couldn't open up to them until she was a 100% certain that they aren't using her just to look good

Lilith was more on the introverted side, gaining a more nerdy status in school than anything. But, she easily found more trustworthy friends, her group of friends may consist of four or less people, but at least she can proudly say that she trusts them

Eda did have a crush on raine in like- her second year of high school, but when she mentioned it to her friends they laughed at her, telling her she could do better and that she doesn't need someone like them to ruin their reputation. She, sadly, listened to them, but admired Raine from afar

Lilith sometimes offers Eda to just chat with her and her friends, feeling bad that she got stuck with such terrible people to be friends with

Also, from the episode where we look onto edas past, I can say that Lilith wanted to be in lots of after-school activities, just for the purpose that she stays in school longer (and maybe so that she has an excuse to not be home)

Eda wasn't too bothered on the after school activities, wanting to just relax home more than ever. She did try out some after school activities since her friends suggested it, but she ended up hating it and dropping it immediately

As we all know, Eda is a trouble maker. Always pulling pranks on the students and teachers. When she doesn't feel inspired I can just see her using the normal harmless pranks, like wrapping up clear cooking paper (idk what it's called 😭) on the door so when the teacher walks in her face hits the clear paper and smears her makeup

And Lilith is the teacher's pet, but the good kind. Would sometimes get her classmates out of trouble, but is the type of student where if she spent hours upon hours working on a homework assignment, she would remind the teacher just to brag about her work. But she doesn't do it on little homework assignments, just the ones she is really proud of

About social media, I can see both of them having a decent following. Just their friends from school, friends outside of school, and the weird people from their class that they barely know

But as to what they post, that is a completely different story

Eda would post things like: her recent pranks, memes, a party she went to (that her friends told her to go to) and pictures with Lilith

Lilith would post things like: her studying, surprisingly good pictures, food, maybe even math memes and of course pictures with Eda

I can't think of anything else, but Lmk about ur headcanons in the comments or by simply sending an anonymous message 👍

I see Raise as the person that everyone knows but isn't popular, you get what I'm saying?

Everyone knows their name and who they are, even if it's brief, but they aren't really that popular

They do have a couple of friends, including Eda, but just like to be quiet and sit in the back, not making any noise nor trouble, just whistling or playing around with near by pens or pencils

They aren't the A+ student, but they definitely get A's and B's, occasionally C's

Of course they're in the music club, and of course they play the violin like-it's obvious

I see their friends either being the quiet introverts that no one really talks to, and or just the band kids from his school club

For after school activities, they're of course in the music club, but I also see them just hanging around with friends, talking about what they're doing and all that type of stuff... That isn't really an after school activity but whatever-

I could see them sometimes helping Eda with harmless pranks, but they do not want to even be mentioned when and if they get caught, so eda takes all of the credit. They do feel bad but Eda make them make it up to her by buying them apple juice or a cans bar or something

Biggest crush on Eda, but they don't want to ruin her reputation at the school, so they never planned on confessing. But they do steal occasional glances and panic when they make eye contact

Once preformed on stage with their violin, but it went so poorly because their hands were shaking and they were forgetting notes, they cried after the performance and never went on stage again, well unless they're in the background where they can't be seen. No one remembers that except for them

Also I can see them sharing their homework with Eda, sometimes tanking them and sending them the wrong answer, which Eda is very proud of but also pissed off

About the social media thing. I could see them having a pretty good amount of followers, that of course being some small musicians, their friends from school and out of school, and generally people who like their musical skills

They would mostly post: audios of them playing the violin (with the name of the piece as a green screen for the video), pictures of them with friends, pictures of when they are practicing with the musics club, and maybe them showing off a new outfit and or instrument they got

I can't think of anything else, but Lmk about ur headcanons in the comments or by simply sending an anonymous message 👍

#toh #the owl house #the owl house headcanon #toh hcs #the owl house eda #the owl house lilith #the owl house raine #toh eda clawthorne #toh eda #toh lilith #Toh Lilith clawthorne #toh raine #toh raine whispers #raine whispers #eda clawthorne #lilith clawthorne #The eda hcs #Toh Lilith hcs #Toh raine hcs

[backwards-readings]

The Door that was Never Supposed to be Opened.

Chapter 4: A Bird in a Cage

{Chapter 1} {Chapter 2} {Chapter 3}

{A/N: This was originally posted on AO3, if you would like to read it there you can find it HERE. I'm going to be straight up with you and tell you that this is pretty much a self-indulgent self-insert fic. I'm not gonna lie. If you don't like that, that's cool, have a good day. But if you're DTF with it, let's get right into the story.}

{Art Credit: this lovely artist

++TW: There are depictions of Suicide. Please, if it is a sensitive topic for you, skip this chapter. I'll add notes on the next chapter a quick summary of what happened without going into detail. I want you to be safe more than I want you to read my writing. If you're struggling with thoughts of harming yourself, please reach out to someone you trust. If you're in the US, you can call 988 to talk with someone, or text HOME to 741741. There's help. There's hope. Be safe, please.++

The next few days I am consumed by anger. I scribble more sketches in my book, but the strokes are dark, and in places the lead of my pencil rips the paper. I tear the pieces of the ruined paper out of the book in strips, balling each strip up and throwing it into the unlit fireplace. I sit on the floor for a bit, staring at the torn pieces of paper sitting in the soot. Tears begin to form in my eyes and I pull my knees up to my chest, hugging them. All this just because I wanted to help someone. I pick the journal back up and begin drawing again, this time taking time to carefully sketch out the face of the man in the basement.

My tears stain the page around the drawing as his face takes shape. I stop when I get to the hair and set down the journal, leaving the drawing unfinished. His face already haunts me, the hopeless look follows me when I close my eyes. The hopeless look that I’ll soon have as well. I stay sitting on the floor, numbness creeping across my body. A numbness that starts in my hands starts spreading across my body, taking hold of me. A tightness creeps into my chest and something tells me it’s here to stay for a while.

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

The next few days I don’t even bother getting out of bed unless it’s to use the bathroom. What’s the point of putting in an effort to eat and drink water if you’re just going to be stuck in the same room for possibly the rest of your life? Ms Downard comes in a few times and clicks her tongue at the untouched food, taking it away and replacing it with fresh food, but she never says anything to me.

The first two days my stomach grumbles, and on the third day my stomach feels like it’s tying itself in knots, but I don’t care. Better to starve to death than to live out my years in this god-forsaken place. After five days of staying in bed and not eating, Ms Downard finally addresses me.

“Honestly, you think a hunger strike is going to do anything for you? Eat, don’t eat, Master Burgess doesn’t care. It would just be one less thing for him to worry about. One less thing for me to worry about, too. Lord knows I don’t have to bring you fresh food every day. I’m doing this out of the kindness of my heart, not asking for anything in return.” She lectures me but I don’t respond. If this is her idea of kindness then I don’t want it.

“Nothing?” She huffs “Fine. I don’t care. Have fun sulking in bed until you wither away into nothing. I don’t care.” She leaves a tray of food on the table and leaves, the click of the lock a bitter reminder. That night I take a few bites of the bread that she left, but I throw it up as soon as I get it down. I crawl back into bed and cover myself with the blankets, a chill clinging to my bones that I just can't shake.

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

I’m so tired but can’t sleep. I try again and again to eat, but only a few bites make me sick to my stomach, no matter what it is. I drink the water left for me but it doesn’t seem to stay my thirst. I run a bath and sink into the water, the sting of the cold water doing nothing to wake me up. I wash up slowly, letting my hands and feet get wrinkly in the water. After my bath I sit wrapped in a towel on the bed, not waiting to put on the dirty clothes I’ve been in since getting imprisoned. I’m clean, but I don’t feel like it. My chest is still tight and my skin crawls with invisible dirt and bugs. I try to eat a bit of bread again and this time it stays down, feeling like lead in my stomach.

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

The next morning, there are clean clothes laid out for me on the table next to my tray of food. It’s a servant's uniform just like my old clothes were. They’re ill-fitting, probably left over from one of the girls who left. The sleeves cover my hands, and I trip over the skirt. There’s no apron to put over the plain dress, but I don’t think I would put it on if there was. I have no need for one as a prisoner. I sit down at the table and eat a few bites of cured meat that sits on the tray, the salty flavour causing me to nearly gag. I eat a little of the bread, hoping that it will calm my stomach, and sit on the bed with my journal and draw.

Once again, my drawings turn from inanimate objects to him. No matter what I do, I can’t get him out of my head. I hate him for it. If it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t even be locked up. But instead of minding my own, I had to try and become his saviour. I scribble him over and over again, his features flooding my mind. As I create him over and over again, anger begins to bubble. He haunted me when I was free, and now that I am captive he is all I can think about.

He may not have actually been a devil, but he tricked me just the same. If he is such a powerful being, why didn’t he warn me this would happen? Why didn’t he tell me? He let me try to help him when he probably knew the outcome. That bastard might have even wanted this, envious of my freedom. I get up and throw my book across the room, sick of drawing. Sick of everything turning back into him. It hits the wall and falls with a loud thunk, but does nothing but make me more angry. I begin to see red and next throw the tray of food that has been given to me, and then push the vanity in the room to its side and let out a yell filled with anger.

I stand there, seething for a moment before my seething hot anger is replaced with ice-cold sorrow. Tears fall from my eyes faster than I can wipe them away and I sink to the floor, unable to stop the convulsions of cries. I curl up on myself, my sabs raking through my body like waves crashing into rocks. I don’t know how long I lay there for, but eventually my ragged breaths even out and I lay on the floor in silence. My eyes wander around the room, taking in the destruction of my fit, and they fall on the broken mirror of the vanity, shards of the silver-backed glass strewn across the floor.

I drag myself towards the broken glass, grabbing a shard that fits perfectly into my hand- as if it was meant to be. My head throbs with every heartbeat as I palm the glass, feeling the sharp edges. They may have taken away my freedom, but I am not helpless. I don’t want to live caged like an animal. I can’t. I won’t. I hold the shard in my hand, shaking as I sit up and press the jagged edge into my wrist, a hiss of pain coming from my lips as it bites into my skin. Tears well in my eyes again as I watch a stream of blood trickle down my arm, landing in my lap. I dig deeper, pain clouding my vision before I remove the shard and move it to my other arm, my hands shaking more and more. I repeat the process, digging into my flesh until I have to bite back a scream. I remove the makeshift blade and drop it in my lap, holding my bloody arms out in front of me. My eyes begin to feel heavy, and I lay down, not caring about the shards of glass on the carpet that dig into my skin.

Despite the pain, a small smile graces my lips as I lay there. My eyes land on the book I had been drawing in it, the pained stare of my drawing subject meeting my eyes. I don’t remember drawing him looking like he was pitying me, but then again, I had drawn him so many times, that I probably just forgot. I close my eyes, ready to let the darkness take me, to embrace death like an old friend, but instead, I hear a voice. Soft and comforting, like a warm breeze on a summer evening.

“Oh, you poor little thing.” The voice says, and I use what little strength I have left to open my eyes. A woman kneels in front of me and gently brushes a bit of my hair from my face. The woman has dark skin, and her beautiful curly hair hangs around her face. Her eyes are soft and kind, like she knows every hardship you’ve ever been through, but wouldn’t dare judge you for them. She smiles at me kindly, and I blink slowly, trying to figure out if my loss of blood is causing me to hallucinate.

“I’m so sorry for what they’ve done to you.” She says, cupping my cheek with one hand as she brings her other hand down to my arm, gripping my wrist. But I don’t feel any pain. Instead, it feels like warm water is being poured over my wrist, and I feel a bit stronger, but nauseous.

“I did this…” I say, my voice cracking as hot tears roll down my face.

“No, dear. You are not at fault for your death. You saw the only possible way out and you took it.” She says, moving her hand to my other wrist. I feel the same feeling of water running down my arm and I gag, rolling a bit more onto my side as I dry heave.

“I know, I know. It’s okay. I’ve got you.” The woman says, gently stroking my back. “You fought a battle that was stacked against you from the start, and you should be proud of how long you held up against it.” She says softly, gently pulling me upright.

“But I’m not ready to take you yet, Patricia Everly.”

#the sandman #morpheus #dream of the endless #self insert #fanfic #slow burn #eventual smut #eventual romance #ao3 #ao3 link

[rafor]

Chapter 36 - You can't go - The Glitch

“Who is the father of your son?” I asked Freya, hoping to learn more about her past. She shook her head and said, “I’d rather not talk about that.” I persisted, saying, “Please, you can trust me. I won’t tell anyone. I just want to help you feel better.” She sighed and said, “It’s not a secret, really. Many know about it. But I don’t want to change how you see me.” I frowned and said, “What do you mean? Do you think I would judge you for that? You’re still a queen in my eyes, no matter what.” She gave me a sad smile and said, “I know, you’re too kind. Even after I told you to stop calling me that, you still disobey my orders.” I shrugged and said, “Maybe it’s a habit by now. I’m sorry.”

She seemed to relax a bit and open up to me, like she did on the first day of training when we were on our way to the arena. She told me her story in a soft voice. “I lost him shortly after Vesper was born. He left one day and never came back. I sent everyone to look for him, but they only found some charred bones that they said belonged to a dragon. I couldn’t even recognize him. Since then, I’ve been alone.” I felt a pang of sympathy and said, “That’s terrible. I’m so sorry for your loss. How did your son cope with it?” She shrugged and said, “He never cared. He never asked about his father or showed any interest in him. Even when he found out the truth. That he was dead and not just missing. He didn’t react at all. He just told me calmly and went on with his life. He’s such a screw-up, just like his mother.” I shook my head and said, “Don’t say that. You’re both fine. You’re strong, brave, and smart. And I’m here for you until they come for me and take me away. Until then, I’ll do anything to help you. Don’t worry.”

She suddenly changed her expression and looked at me with alarm. “Oh no, how long have you been here already?” she asked. I blinked and said, “Uh, I think a couple of weeks." She gasped and said, “They should have been here by now!” I felt a surge of fear and said, “Don’t worry, maybe they got delayed. The weather has been bad in the south lately.” She shook her head and said, “No, that’s not an excuse. They should have made it anyway, or at least sent a message back. Or we should have heard from Aura herself directly in the palace.” I asked, “What do you mean by that?” She grabbed my hand and pulled me into the palace, which was a labyrinth of corridors and rooms. She ran so fast that I had to fly sometimes to keep up with her. She seemed to glide through the air with her wind powers. She finally stopped at a room that looked like an office full of papers and started rummaging through them frantically. I asked her, “What are you looking for?” She said, “A message from Aura. She must have sent one.” I asked, “How do you know that?” She explained, “She always does when she receives one of our messengers. There has to be one here somewhere.” I said, “Okay, I’ll help you find it. How can we tell it apart from these other papers?” She said, “It’s usually written on paper with red and pink borders. It’s easy to spot. Like this one.” She showed me an example of a letter that said something about “confirmation of the peace treaty between the cities”. I was curious about it, but she snapped at me, “Stop wasting time! Search!” I nodded and said, “Right, sorry. Let’s look for it.”

I had spent an hour rummaging through the room, looking for the elusive message. I tried to tidy up as I went along, not wanting to create more chaos in the midst of confusion. Finally, I gave up and said, “We’ve checked everything. There’s nothing here. Please, let it go.” She ignored me and continued to sift through the same pile of messages again, as if hoping to find something new. Then she stopped and said, “The messenger never arrived.” I knew that was not true because Akira had told me otherwise. “I’m sure he did. Maybe Aura just didn’t write anything this time?” I suggested. She shook her head vehemently. “She always writes something. She never misses a chance.” She picked up the most recent message from Aura and handed it to me. “Look at this. When did you send the last messenger to the Kingdom of Aura? And when did he come back? This is over a month old. How often do you usually exchange messages?” She said, “Every couple of weeks or so. Whenever a messenger returns, we send him back after a few days.” I said, “Then there should be a newer message than this one, right? This is just a reiteration of your old plan.” She snatched it back from me and scanned it quickly. “Oh, I remember this one. The messenger delivered it to me personally.” I said, trying to sound hopeful, “Then maybe she’s changed her way of communicating, don’t you think?” She said sarcastically, still clinging to her side of the argument, “The messenger should have been back by now anyway. It’s taking too long.” The discussion was going nowhere, so I said, “You told me it takes about a week to get to the city. And another week to come back. Maybe they had some delays or complications along the way.” She looked at the papers again, searching for something else. She found a report and handed it to me. “Look at this! You’ve been here longer than you think.” I took it and read it. It had the date of my arrival written on it, and indeed, I had lost track of time. I had been here for a month already, and that was not normal. I felt a surge of worry too. It had been a while since I heard Akira’s voice in my head, calling me or telling me anything. I wondered if something was wrong on the other side. But I also knew that Sol and Cyrus should have made it by now. I said, “Damn, I didn’t realize how much time had passed.” She yelled back at me, “You think?! Neither did I!” I tried to calm her down while hiding my own anxiety. I said, “Okay, listen, there must be an explanation for this. Don’t panic. Maybe we can send another messenger, or I can go back myself.” She replied instantly, “We don’t have another one who knows the way to the Kingdom of Aura!” Surprised by her answer, I said, “Don’t you have a map or something? I can read maps.” She said, “The maps that show the kingdom are inaccurate and outdated. You wouldn’t be able to follow them. And I’m not going to send you on a suicide mission. I don’t want you to get lost forever in this vast world.” I said, “Fine, then what do you suggest we do?” She was silent. She didn’t know either. I said, “I have another idea. What if I look for someone here in the city who might know the way there? There has to be someone. I’ve seen merchants coming and going sometimes, claiming they have goods from the Kingdom of Aura.” She said, “Merchants are not trustworthy, and I wouldn’t rely on anyone here for such a journey.” I said, “Maybe they could just tell me the direction, and I could take notes and follow them.” She said, “That’s impossible. Do you have any idea how hard it is to get to a place you’ve never been before with just some vague instructions? It’s impossible.” I gave up. She was right. It was too risky and uncertain. I thought there was nothing wrong with asking for some help from someone who knew the area better than us, maybe even offering a reward for their guidance, but no, she wouldn’t agree to that either. She wanted me there, safe with her.

#chapter #dragon #dragons #elements #fantasy #literature #mystery #story #poetry #adventure #the_glitch #the rise and fall of raphael

[layanasstories]

Oblivion

FOUR

The first night was no different, I had many dreams but no nightmares. Then on day one without medication I still noticed no difference. I just followed my routine as usual, except that I went to buy the cookies for Andy, as I had promissed. The second night was terrible, the nightmare was even more realistic than before.

Faces were clear, names I could remember when I woke up, Dan, Jessy and Lilly. And even though the events were the same, the places where it played out were different. Certainly the last part, I was not locked in a barn, but in a tunnel or cave. And one name stuck, Jake. I couldn't determine which face that name belonged to, but it kept slumbering in the back of my mind. Day two was a disaster, my routine was disrupted because I slept through my alarm. As a result, I couldn't take a shower and forgot to bring my lunch to work. I missed the subway, and was two minutes late because of that. The working day itself was okay, I did my job as I always did. Wednesday is always a super busy day, I didn't have time for lunch anyway, so it didn't make much difference that I forgot my sandwiches.

Only on the way home in the subway I was attacked by flashes of images. A man who looked vaguely familiar, eyes begging for forgiveness. Images of forests, black birds. None of these images are memories of the past four years. "Would he be right after all?" I muttered to myself. The third night, my nightmare was like a movie. It wasn't a glued together illogical order of things, as it usually was. It was a clear as day movie, every detail, every face, everything was clearly visible. Despite that I still woke up with a scream and I cried my eyes out, I felt no emotions linked to these images, I cried because it was such a sad story. I didn't want to give in, although deep down I knew what these nightmares meant. The fire has burned my skin, the scars on my arms are proof of that. Until recently I thought because of the car accident. But now I'm starting to doubt that. My nightmares tell me a very different story, even though I can't connect myself to them. Day three, I called in sick from work. I couldn't bring myself to go, instead I grabbed a notepad and started writing down everything I could remember about my nightmares.

I stopped when my brain started to stutter and no new things came up. I looked at it briefly, but didn't want to analyze it just yet. I got up to stretch my legs and make a cup of coffee. While I'm waiting for my coffee to be ready, I ponder what else I could write. Then I realize that I don't really know much about my time in the hospital. Those, too, are just fragments of images. With my coffee in hand I grab a new piece of paper. When I want to start, I put my cup on the paper with my distracted head, which makes a circle, and stain the paper with some coffee drops. I wipe it clean with my sleeve instead of getting a new piece of paper. Then as with the previous one I start writing down which names I still remember.

Finally, I draw a big question mark next to everything. If I still scratch the paper with my pen, thinking, an image pops up that I've never seen before. I lie on a stretcher and I am carried out of a tunnel-like space. I remember the smell of fire and smoke. But can't make anything out of it other than this image. Annoyed, I put my pen down. "Damn, he's right. The pills are suppressing my memories" I sigh through my teeth. I pick up my phone and see to my dismay that it is already late afternoon. "Why does time always go so fast, when you need more of it." I roll my eyes at myself. Then I open the chat.

Layana: Day three. And you were right. While I still don't fully trust you, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt.

It really just takes a few seconds for Nym-0s to come online

Nym-0s: That's enough for me.

Layana: And what now? You said we could meet?

Nym-0s: Hungry?

Layana: What?

Nym-0s: Are you hungry?

Layana: I am always hungry...

Nym-0s: I know :) Let's meet, I know a little restaurant, it's quiet enough to talk, but busy enough for you to feel comfortable.

Nym-0s: What do you say?

I think for a moment, it doesn't feel safe at all. But what have I got to lose? Nothing right?

Layana: Okay. Send me the address.

#duskwood #duskwood everbyte #duskwood jake #duskwood mc #duskwood jake x player #duskwood jake x mc #duskwood game #iamjake #duskwood fanfiction

[fandomxpreferences]

I posted 793 times in 2022

That's 793 more posts than 2021!

367 posts created (46%)

426 posts reblogged (54%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@sunlightmurdock

@anna-rose-banana

@notroosterbradshaw

@onebigfangirlworld

@hufflepuffprincesse

I tagged 450 of my posts in 2022

Only 43% of my posts had no tags

#jake seresin - 120 posts

#top gun maverick - 108 posts

#bradley bradshaw - 97 posts

#hangman top gun - 72 posts

#rooster top gun - 64 posts

#more hearts than mine - 62 posts

#jake seresin top gun - 60 posts

#top gun imagine - 57 posts

#hangman - 51 posts

#bradley bradshaw topgun - 50 posts

Longest Tag: 102 characters

#something tells me they in fact can not handle a couple days of keeping their hands to themselves lmao

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Let Me Love You

Pairing: Rooster x female!reader

TW: swearing, sad brad, angst with a happy ending (for the love of god we need some happy rooster, this man is endlessly tortured)

Summary: Bradley has been dealt a shitty hand in life, and he's determined to protect himself from getting hurt again. Everything is turned upside down when you blow into his life looking like everything he swears he doesn't want. (Based off this request)

Word Count:2.3k

A/N: Apparently im incapable of keeping it short and sweet. I have no idea how this happened, I didn't even know what direction I was going to take it and next think I know I have this so enjoy

Bradley Bradshaw didn't do relationships. It was a universally accepted fact by everyone that knew him. After seeing the way his dad's death destroyed his mother, he decided he could never do that to someone he loves. He accepted his fate, resigning himself to a life with no wife or kids.

When his mom got sick, he came home and took care of her until she passed. If there was ever a glimmer of hope that he would one day have the white picket fence and perfect family, it died with her. The only person left that he could count on was his Uncle Maverick. Then he pulled his papers from the academy. Bradley was left alone in the world, scrambling to find a way to fix the gaping hole that was blown into his future. Trust didn't come easily to him after that. 

He'd had a few girlfriends scattered throughout his life, if you could call them that. They were more like flings that lasted a few months before he shipped off to another part of the world, never looking back. He knew it could never become something real. He was the love them and leave them type, and he was okay with that. Can't miss what you never had, right?

His mom had always kept his dad's memory alive, sharing stories of their love. Bradley couldn't wrap his head around how his mom never so much as looked at another man after his father's passing. No one would have blamed her. But she insisted that Nick Bradshaw had been it for her. Their brief time together was better than anything she would ever get from a lifetime with someone else. He never understood what she meant. Until he met you. 

From the second Bradley's eyes landed on you, he knew you were going to rip through his life like a hurricane. You had waltzed into the hangar that day with a heart-stopping smile. You were one of only two women in his Top Gun class and he could immediately see why. There was an air of confidence about you. Your hair was neatly styled, your shoulders back and head held high. He felt time stand still, and for the first time in his life, he wondered if he had been wrong all those years. You met his gaze, and he saw his entire future in your eyes. Maybe he did want someone to come home to.

He kept his distance the first few days, observing from afar. You were an extraordinary pilot. He was in awe watching you in the air. Your instincts were razor sharp and you flew your aircraft as if it was an extension of your own body. You were always two steps ahead, somehow anticipating what your opponent would do before they seemed to know themself. You flew extremely fast and loved to show off, yet you were remarkably precise and calculated. It made you a formidable rival. Bradley could never understand how you could just let go and trust your intuition. 

On the ground, you managed to be self-assured but kind. You could hold your own when provoked but had a laid-back and fun personality otherwise. Everyone seemed to like you without trying. You were easy to be around and made everyone feel like a part of the conversation. Your energy was magnetic and Bradley could feel himself getting pulled in. 

You were the only woman he ever felt himself wanting to break his own rules for. He found himself jealous of everyone who got to interact with you. His fists clenched when one of the other pilots managed to draw out a laugh and his body tingled whenever he saw your smile. You were dangerous, and he knew if he wasn't careful he would fall in love with you. Little did he know, it was already too late. 

From that point on, he avoided interacting with you unless in the air. If he did find himself in your presence, he was cold and shut off. You were never one to make enemies and didn't understand why he hated you. You had barely spoken to the man. You didn't get too hung up on it, letting his comments and attitude roll off your back. It went on like this for your entire time at Top Gun, and anytime you crossed paths for the next couple of years. Eventually, it hit a boiling point. 

You've been assigned to the same mission as Bradley, and the two of you have been paired up. You're drowning your sorrows at the bar on base, keeping your distance from Bradley a few seats down from you. You feel him shooting daggers at you and decide you've had enough. You stand and march towards him, stopping a couple feet away and crossing your arms. 

"What the fuck is your problem?" Your face is hot from a mixture of alcohol and anger. He shoots you a glance and scoffs. "I don't have a problem." He shrugs, and you roll your eyes. 

"Bullshit, Bradshaw. You've hated me since we were in Top Gun." Your eyes narrow and Bradley can't help but think you're cute when you're mad. He'd never admit it but his heart was racing, excited to talk to you even if you were chewing him out. 

He looks at you fully and his heart drops when he sees tears in your eyes. Shit. He never meant to make you cry. Truthfully, he didn't think you had noticed him enough to be able to elicit any type of response in the first place. His face softens and he sets his beer down. 

"I don't hate you." His voice is soft, but you hear him crystal clear. You shrink into yourself, your liquid confidence dwindling. Bradley has never seen you so timid and he mentally curses himself for being the cause of it. "Then why are you always mean to me?" You ask with a small voice. 

He avoids eye contact and crosses his arms. He's too drunk for this. "Because you scare me." He admits. "I don't like getting close to people, and I wouldn't be able to help myself." 

After his confession that night three years ago, your relationship changed. He slowly opened up, telling you all his most safely guarded secrets. You were best friends, one of you never far from the other. 

Bradley knew he was in love with you, but he also knew the two of you could never be together. You didn't feel that way about him and even if you did, he was determined to never let himself have the life he so craved with you. He was okay with keeping his feelings to himself if it meant protecting you. 

What the sandy-haired idiot didn't realize, was that you were head over heels for him too. It killed you to know you couldn't have more with Bradley. He had told you his reasoning for never wanting a serious relationship or family. You couldn't blame him, even if you did want to smack him in the back of the head for making choices based on a hypothetical situation instead of the very real one standing right in front of him. 

So that's how your relationship worked. Both of you decided that it was better to have each other as friends, than not at all. Which is what brings you to your current predicament.

You and Rooster are sitting across from each other on his couch. Every Friday you two order takeout and stay up watching shitty reality shows, but tonight you decided to add alcohol. You've both had a bit too much to drink, no longer paying any attention to the re-run playing on the tv.

You'd been thumb wrestling, the sounds of your giggles mixing and filling the room. All of a sudden, Bradley pulled back and got a serious look on his face. You had laughed and asked him if he was okay, but he didn't respond. It's been several minutes since either of you has talked, Bradley looking deep in thought. 

You're about to ask again when he looks up at you. Your heart squeezes when you see unshed tears on his water line. You don't say anything, silently reaching out to grab his hand and run your thumb across his knuckles. If you thought your heart hurt before, what he says to you leaves it shattered on the floor. 

"Everyone I've ever cared for has either died or left me. Except for you." A tear falls off his face and you reach forward to cup his cheek. It's a drunken moment of vulnerability, but you know the sentiment is real. You silently wonder how long he's been carrying that thought in his heart.

His large hand holds yours in place, and you realize your hand is completely enveloped in his. Your stomach does a flip when you feel how warm he is, and you can't help but notice how they fit together like puzzle pieces. 

See the full post

1,368 notes - Posted October 23, 2022

#4

Shotgun

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x female!reader

Word count: 500

Summary: The only thing Bradley loves more than his Bronco is you.

TW:none

One thing about Bradley is that he treats his Bronco like it's his baby. He's meticulous about upkeep, getting it washed once a week and making sure it gets routine oil changes and tune-ups. He's insistent that there will never be any kind of bumper stickers or magnets on it and he almost killed Jake when he bumped it with his truck door on accident. 

Which is why you're in complete shock when he opens the passenger-side door for you. The first thing you notice is white lettering and you look down with a frown. Your eyes almost bulge of their sockets when you read what it says. Y/N's Seat. Your head whips around to look at Bradley and he smiles brightly. 

"Do you like it?" You nod your head at a complete loss for words. Your mouth opens and closes a few times before you finally speak. "I love it, but why? You're always so adamant that there's nothing allowed on the paint." You frown. 

He just shakes his head and laughs. "Yea, but you're the exception. No matter who's riding shotgun, they need to know who it belongs to. Jake tried to adjust the seat the other day and I almost made him walk."

Your smile almost splits your face in two. Bradley has definitely never hidden the fact he has a girlfriend. He has a picture of the two of you on his dashboard, he keeps tampons in the glove box, and one of your scrunchies is always on his gear shift. This is another level though and it makes your heart skip a beat. 

You lean up and kiss him sweetly before climbing into the car. The two of you head down to the Hard Deck and spend the next few hours drinking and laughing with the squad. When it's time to leave, Bradley offers Jake a ride home. He came with Phoenix and she left the bar a couple hours ago with a cute stranger. 

Jake runs up ahead of you and beats you to the truck. "Shotgun!" He yells and you just quirk your eyebrow. "I don't think so, Bagman." You tease and his eyes narrow. 

"Just because you're the girlfriend doesn't mean you get dibs. It's not like your name is on it." You roll your eyes and shove him out of the way to open the door as Bradley watches the interaction with amusement. 

"First of all, that's exactly what being his girlfriend means. Second of all, It does have my name on it." You say while pointing at the lettering. Jake looks down and does a double-take before looking at Bradley. 

"Seriously?" He half whines and Bradley shrugs his shoulders unashamed. "Climb in the back or walk."

You turn to Jake once you've climbed up in the seat and laugh. "Sorry, Jake. You've been replaced."

He looks at you with a deadpan expression for a second before giving up and getting in the truck. Bradley climbs in and leans over to give you a kiss before starting the engine and Jake makes a face while gagging. "You two are unbearable."

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@drakelover78

1,638 notes - Posted November 4, 2022

#3

You’re All I Care About

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x female!reader

Summary: Bradleys world is almost flipped upside down when he receives a terrifying call from you. (Based off this post) 

TW: car accident, angst, mentions of blood, swearing, fluff

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: I’m not really pleased with how this turned out but I also don't have the motivation to rewrite it so blah

You blink your eyes a few times trying to take in your surroundings. The first thing you register is the blaring horn and the smell of blood. You know that you've just been T-boned but you don't know how bad it is. The other car must have run because you're alone in the middle of the four-way stop. You're not on a popular road so there are no other cars around to help. 

The first thing you think to do is call Bradley. You know he'll get here faster than any first responders. Your heart drops when you realize that you're in his bronco. Your car was in the shop having some work done, so he had insisted you drive it. You don't stay stuck on the thought for long, digging for your phone.

The impact had spun the truck around and everything went flying. You spot your cell on the passenger side floorboard and reach to grab it. It takes you a minute to get your hands on it, having to be mindful of the shattered glass covering the car. Once it's in your hands, you press Bradley's contact and lean back with your eyes closed. 

Bradley's at your shared home laughing with Jake and Nat when his phone rings. He smiles when he sees your contact photo and answers, pressing the phone to his ear. His face drops when he hears a car horn blasting and you don't greet him. The two pilots notice his change in demeanor and sit up with concern written on their features. 

"Y/N?" He tries and his heart plummets when you don't respond. He tries again, this time louder and you finally answer. "Bradley," you breathe and he stands up when he hears the tears and panic in your voice. "I'm sorry about your Bronco."

His eyes widen when he realizes the horn is coming from his truck. "Baby where are you?" He's already grabbing Jake's keys and sprinting out the door. Jake and Nat are hot on his tail, not bothering to ask any questions. Bradley's reaction is all they need to know. You give him your location and he stays on the phone with you. 

"I'm only a couple minutes away, baby. Are you hurt?" His stomach twists in anticipation of your answer. Your head hurts but you're not in any severe pain. "I don't think so. My head hurts, but that's it." You tell him and he breathes a little easier. 

"Okay, honey. Are the paramedics there yet?" He doesn't hear any sirens and wonders how long ago this happened. He's going 80 in a 55 and it won't take him much longer to get to you. You chuckle to yourself as you answer. "No, you're the first person I called."

Bradley's eyebrows furrow and he turns to Jake. "Call an ambulance." His friend looks at him baffled for a second. "Now." His voice is more urgent this time and Jake pulls out his phone to call 911. 

The truck skids to a stop as they pull up to the accident. Phoenix gasps and covers her mouth and Jake is in complete disbelief. He's still on the phone with the operator and he tells them to hurry. Bradley feels like he's going to throw up as he bolts out of the truck, barely putting it in park. 

His bronco is completely crushed in on the driver's side and glass is littered across the road. All of the airbags are deployed and he falters when he sees blood. 

He hasn't even seen you yet, but if the condition of his truck is any indication, it isn't good. He makes it to you and he runs his hands through his hair in a panic, unsure of what to do. All of his military training has flown out the window. 

He’s brought back when he sees Jake try to wrench the door open. He helps him pull a couple of times but it's pinned shut. "Hey, flyboy." He hears your sweet voice and forces himself to look at you. 

He feels a lump form in his throat and he reaches toward your head. You have blood dripping down the side of your face, but other than that you don't look too beat up. 

There are definitely some cuts from the glass and probably bruises from the seatbelt locking up, but it could be worse. He knows your head is the most concerning injury. The way you're bleeding there's no way you didn't hit it, but you seem aware of your surroundings and have your usual teasing tone.

Bradley runs around to the passenger side and opens the door. He climbs in ignoring the shards digging into him and leans over to check your pulse. He can hear the sirens approaching and calms down just enough to talk. "Hey, baby. We're gonna get you out of here but I need you to try and keep your head still until they can check you out okay?" 

You hum in acknowledgment just as the ambulance and police cars arrive at the scene. Bradley is pulled back by Jake as the paramedics start asking questions and working on you. He pulls against the restraint and Nat finally gets out of the truck and rushes over. She stands in from of him and places a gentle hand on his arm. "Let them work, Bradley."

He stops fighting and deflates into the man behind him. He feels the adrenaline start to fade and hot tears prick at his eyes. He scrubs his hands over his face trying to compose himself as a paramedic walks up to him. 

"She's stable, but were transporting her to the hospital to check for head trauma and internal injuries. Do one of you want to ride in the back with her?" Bradley immediately steps forward and the paramedic nods, leading him to the ambulance. 

He climbs in and takes your hand. You look significantly better with a bandage on your head and a woman is working on disinfecting your cuts. You look over at him the best you can with the neck brace and within seconds tears are rolling off your face. He leans forward and kisses your forehead. "It's okay, baby. You're okay."

You look up at him and his heart shatters at the fear in your eyes. "I'm so sorry about the bronco, Bradley. I promise I'll pay for whatever damage if it can even be fixed." He shakes his head in disbelief and grasps both of your hands In his. 

'Listen to me. I don't give two fucks about that right now. All I care about is you being okay. I'll deal with all that later." You blink and another tear cascades down your cheek. "But it means so much to you."

Bradley closes his eyes and a tear slips out. He leans down to rest his head on top of your interlocked hands and takes a shaky breath. "Nothing in this world means more to me than you. A car can be replaced, you can't. Sure I'm devastated, but not nearly as devastated as I would be if something had happened to you."

Truthfully Bradley doesn't know if he could ever get behind the wheel of his bronco again, even if it is salvageable. Anytime he goes to drive it, he'll only be able to picture you stuck behind the wheel covered in blood and glass. 

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1,837 notes - Posted November 5, 2022

#2

I Have a Girlfriend

“I’m Never Drinking Again” Part Two

Paring: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x female!reader

TW: swearing, alcohol and drunken shenanigans, I believe that's all

Summary: A night out with the dagger squad leads to quite an amusing Bradley Bradshaw.

Word count: 1.5k

A/N: 1,000% this Is how I see rooster in this lmao. also I was going to queue this but I literally can't sit on a fic once its done so you guys are being spoiled with two in one night.

Rooster isn't usually much of a drinker. He nurses a couple of beers when you go out with the daggers, but he knows how to be the life of the party sober. He prefers to have fun while being completely in control and he hates the idea of you drinking without him watching over you. 

However, tonight is a different story. Jake and Phoenix are awful influences and between the two of them, they've managed to get Bradley sloppy drunk. You shake your head as you watch the pilots dancing to some 80s song on the jukebox. You and Maverick have assigned yourselves as the designated drivers, knowing damn well the rest of the group would end up passed out in random places if you didn't. 

Bradley is sporting a crooked smile and a light blush on his cheeks from the alcohol coursing through his blood. He's wearing his aviators inside and at some point managed to lose his tank top, now just wearing an open Hawaiian shirt. 

You've only seen Bradley drunk once and you don't remember much of it seeing as you were matching him shot for shot. You and Mav chat away, glancing at the group every few minutes. Jake has untucked his shirt and Phoenix is singing into a pool cue. 

It makes your heart happy to see your friends letting loose. As much fun as he is sober, drunk Bradley is unmatched. His energy is magnetic and it seems everyone in the room is laughing and dancing with him at one point or another. You smile to yourself, proud that you get to call him yours. 

You're listening to Mav tell a story about Jake throwing up after having one too many fruity drinks he swears he doesn't like when you hear a loud chorus of cheers. You look over and almost spit your drink out.

Bradley is standing on the bar top waving his shirt around while people throw money at him. You notice his chest and abs glistening and try to recall when the hell he got wet. His hands reach for his belt buckle and you launch toward him, spilling your drink in the process. You fight your way over to the bar and jump up on a stool so you can reach him. 

You manage to stop him just before he catches a public indecency charge and all but drag him back down to solid ground. You're met with protests and boos but shoot the crowd a look and they shut up. Bradley stumbles behind you as you pull him over to a booth and motion for Mav to get him some water. 

Rooster practically falls into the seat giggling to himself like a schoolgirl. You stand in front of him with your hands on your hips and an amused smirk. It takes him a second to notice your presence and when he does he looks up. His eyes are glassy and unfocused and he scowls at you. 

Maverick walks over with a pitcher of water and Bradley's shirt and you shoot him an appreciative smile. He stays with you to make sure that you don't need help. Bradley would never do anything out of line, but he's a big guy, and trying to support him on your own would be a near-impossible feat. 

You pour a cup of water and place it down in front of him. "Drink." You order while pointing at the glass. Rooster wrinkles his nose in disgust and scoots further away from you. Mav shoots you a look of confusion and you return it with a frown. 

You reach out to run your hand through Bradley's hair the way he loves and he recoils, letting out something akin to a squeal as he tries to avoid your touch. Now you're really confused. "What the hell are you doing?" Your voice is sassy but you have a light smile. 

"I don't want you." His words are so slurred you barely catch what he says, but when it registers hurt shoots through your chest. You take a step back and fold your arms, retreating into yourself. "Why not?"

He looks at you as if you've grown a third head and pulls his phone out. He holds it up to show you his lock screen, it's a picture of the two of you at the beach. Your eyebrows shoot up and you wait for him to explain. 

"I have a girlfriend." He says matter of factly while dramatically pointing at your face on his screen. You cover your mouth with your hand trying not to laugh at him. "I'm gonna call her, I miss her." He pouts and you watch as he fumbles through putting in his password and finding your contact. 

He presses call and flops back on the bench with his eyes closed. You feel your phone start vibrating and debate whether or not you should actually answer it. Bradley's face has a childlike excitement on it at the idea of talking to you and you decide to play along. 

You slide the button over and press the phone up to your ear as Maverick laughs next to you. "Hey, baby." You watch as a bright smile lights up Bradley's face when he hears your voice and your heart flutters. 

"Hiii sweet girl. Where'd you run off to? I miss you." He sulks and you almost choke on a laugh. 

"I'm still here pretty boy. I see you laying on a bench, I'll be right there." Rooster's eyes shoot open and your lips quirk up at the absurdity of the situation. He struggles to sit up for a second, grasping around to get his bearings before his eyes meet yours. 

He reaches out and makes grabby hands at you before pulling you down to sit in his lap. He nuzzles his face into your shoulder and inhales your scent. You reach back to run your hand through his hair and he lets out a content sigh. 

His eyebrows furrow when he sees the water sitting on the table and he turns haphazardly to look at you. "When did that get there?" He asks completely bewildered. You smile at him and run your fingers along his jawline. "I brought it for you. You need to drink some water or you're going to get sick." You explain gently. 

He nods his head and chugs the water without any more questions. "Slow down, baby. It's not going anywhere." You laugh and he smiles sheepishly at you. His eyes start to droop and you share a look with Mav silently agreeing it's time to get him home. 

You cup Bradley's cheek and bring his attention to you. "I'm going to get you home so you can sleep this off. Do you think you can stand so Mav can help me get you to the car?"

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2,227 notes - Posted November 2, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Knight in a Flight Suit

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x female!reader

TW: swearing, violence, groping

Summary: You like to run your mouth and have no problem stepping up to a man. Why? Because you have your very own security guard.(Based off this post)

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: GIF is same energy just not fresh out of the shower. Also, you know that scene of Jax in sons of anarchy where he's smoking and suddenly throws a hook that sends the guy into another dimension? That's exactly what im imagining. 

Over the years you've gained a reputation for being rather..feisty. Especially with men. You didn't get to where you are in your career by taking things lying down, and you've never had a problem going toe to toe with anybody.

Sure it's gotten you in some situations a few times, namely when you square up to a man whose mother didn't teach them not to hit women. But you've never had issues with holding your own. 

Then you met the dagger squad. If it wasn't your husband watching your back, it was Rooster. And if it's not Rooster it's Maverick. If not maverick, then Coyote, and so on. You basically have your own security team, so yea, you're pretty confident in your ability to talk shit to any man who looks at you the wrong way. 

Usually though, Jake is the only line of defense you need. Ever since the two of you started dating three years ago, a man hasn't gotten within five feet of you. It only amplified when you got married. Jake would set fire to the world if it meant keeping you safe, and he'd do it with a smile. Tonight is a perfect example of that. 

You're standing at the bar waiting for yours and Jake's beers when you feel a hand skim across your back about two inches too far south. You don't like someone touching you at all, but when the man's hand lingers on your ass and gives a light squeeze, you whip around to face him.

"Get your grimy fucking hands off of me." You smack his hand away and the man chuckles. "Looks like we've got a live one." He smirks and you see red. 

You size the man up, and he takes it as you checking him out. You don't correct him, usually playing the helpless victim works out in your favor. He's got maybe 40 pounds and half a foot on you but that's never stopped you before. 

He reaches out for your waist and you quickly step back to avoid him. At this point you're fairly certain you know how this will end and you're just playing along to see how far he'll take it. 

The man laughs and quirks his head to the side, clearly taking it as a challenge. "Playing hard to get, huh? That's fine, I like the chase." 

His grin reminds you of the Cheshire Cat and your face contorts in disgust. His smile drops when he sees your reaction and this time it's your turn to smirk. Let the games begin. 

You square your shoulders and straighten up to your full height. You go to take a step forward and the man's eyes darken. "You think you can fight me? I don't give a fuck you're a woman, I'll knock your ass clean out." He laughs. 

You watch him stand up straight and your eyes never leave his face, even as you have to adjust your angle to be looking up at him. Before either of you can say or do anything else, Jake is standing in front of you. 

He has his back to the man, forming a physical barrier and putting a few feet of space between the two of you. "What's going on here, sweet cheeks?" His eyes are glued to yours, never even looking at the man he'd most likely be in the parking lot with in the next five minutes. 

Your posture relaxes in his presence, knowing Jake just made whatever problem you were about to have his own. Your eyebrows shoot up as you gesture to the man behind him.

"Shrimp dick over there decided to grope me. When I didn't let it slide he threatened to knock me out cold." You explain, eyes still on the threat. 

The man points his finger angrily in your direction, ignoring the blonde pilot. "Watch your fucking mouth." 

Jake visibly tenses and you laugh at the man, fully aware of the mistake he just made. It's one thing for you to tell Jake about it, but for someone to have the balls to disrespect and threaten you in front of him? 

You shake your head at the man. "Now you've really got a problem." You mock and Jake slowly turns around. The two men are about the same size, though Jake is clearly more muscular. Not that it matters, Jake would lay a 10-foot giant out on their ass for talking to you like that. 

The only thing scarier than a loud angry Jake is a calm angry Jake. Every word and movement is precise and calculated. He stares the man down for a second before speaking slowly. 

"Apologize." He isn't asking, he's telling. "For what?" The man laughs and Jake feels his blood boil. 

"For touching my wife without her permission and then threatening to hurt her. And for swearing at a lady. Where I'm from those are justified grounds for murder." His voice is low and it sends shivers up your spine. 

"And if I don't?" The man scoffs and Jake takes another step forward, now fully in the stranger's personal space. "Then I'll make you." He cracks his neck and pops his wrists and elbows. That should've been this asshole's sign to walk away.

By now you've noticed a crowd forming and the rest of the dagger squad are making their way over. You see two men heading your way and can immediately tell they're this dick's backup. 

You reach forward and press a hand gently to his shoulder. "Jake." You try to get his attention but he doesn't take his eyes off his target. "I see them. I'm not worried about it." He knows he's got his own backup, and they outnumber the three men twofold.

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2,542 notes - Posted November 3, 2022

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