#i’m not sure why the sparkles so don’t ask. i am so tired

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Unexpected 46

Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, pegging, Lloyd being the worst, post partum, csection, suicidial ideation, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

‘You look good’.

The doctor’s words echo in your head. You stare at yourself in the mirror, trying to see what she saw. You don’t look good, you are repulsive. You pull your shirt down over the stretch marks and fix your sweat pants, hiding the rigid scar. No infection, no internal issues. That’s probably what she meant.

You hear the dull buzz of your phone. As you pass the bassinet, you check inside. The baby’s asleep. It’s been a long day of calming her since your return from your appointment. She received a clean bill of health, a sparkling review from the doctor. She’s growing, eating well, meeting all her milestones. How many can there be, it’s only been six weeks.

The house is quiet. Dottie should be asleep. She hasn’t bothered you at least. You lay down and check your phone. It’s Andy. Shoot, you forgot to text him back after your shower. You tell him as much in your reply.

You lower your phone as you lean against the pillows. Six weeks. The doctor said you’re all clear. You don’t know if you’re ready, even though you want to be. You sigh and breathe out your anxiety. Fuck it. It’s not that deep.

‘Wanna come over?’ You don’t even read Andy’s follow up before you send the message.

Shit. Shit. You see the checkmark, he’s read it but he’s not typing. Fuckkkkkk. You misread. The last week and a half, sneaking around to make out, having the type of fun you forgot back in high school, it was only that. Shallow and fleeting.

You’re really not ready for this. You’re thinking too much. Making it into more than what it is. It’s just fucking. That’s all it’s ever been. Besides, you might not even get that far. You just want the company.

Your phone jitters. You look at it with dread; ‘sure, I still owe you that massage.’

You squeak, quickly smothering it with your hand. What was that? You don’t make those noises. You don’t get giddy. You are a grown woman. A mother.

Damn. That’s right. You’re a mother.

You get up and peer at the bassinet once more. You grab the monitor and carefully wheel the rolling bassinet to the door. You carefully open the door and enter the hall. She’ll be okay in her crib for an hour. You’ll put the camera in with her. She’s tired out from the doctor’s anyway.

You make the transfer, leaving the nursery door open, just in case. You don’t know why you’re so worried. The baby just sleeps all the time. Just a blob.

You go back to your room and find a new message. Andy, he’s already on his way. Oop. You text that you’ll meet him at the back door. You sneak back out and make a cautious descent down the stairs.

He waits for you in the shadows by the doors as you shine the flashlight of your phone at him. You unlock the left one and let him in. He’s in a hoodie and sweats hanging crooked on his hips. You turn off the light and whisper for him to come in, shutting the door softly behind him.

“Can’t go back upstairs. Already made too much noise,” you keep your voice low.

He nods, hands in his pockets, swaying on his feet nervously. You giggle and grab the front of his hoodie. You drag him into the living room and over to the couch. He touches your wrist and stops you.

“Ah, I still owe you,” he insists.

“It’s fine,” you try to dismiss his offer. You just want to see if your body still works, if you can still feel.

“Please, lay down,” he coaxes, “let’s… let’s take it slow. Enjoy it…”

You let him go. Yeah, he’s right. You turn away and stare at the cushions in the dim glow of moonlight that shines through the window. That window where you and Lloyd–

You won’t think of him. You get down on your stomach. Andy lowers himself on the edge of the couch and places a hand on your shoulder.

“You can take your shirt off,” he suggests.

“I’ll keep it on,” you say, trying not to let your embarrassment glean through.

“No problem,” he assures you, trailing his hand down.

He begins to knead your back, leading with his thumbs, finding kinks you never felt before. He works you firmly but gently. Shoulders, sides, hips. He moves up, down, all around. You moan as he loosens the muscles knotted from months, if not years, of strain.

He lets one hand crawl over the back of your sweats. You don’t stop him. He gropes your but, squeezing it until you moan, a signal that he can keep going. He fondles you, humming at the feel of you. It’s flattering even if you’re overly aware of the extra pounds.

His fingers slip down and you part your thighs. He pauses as he hovers over the seam of your pants.

“You good?” He rasps.

“Keep going,” you say a bit harsher than you intend.

He listens, pushing on the seam as he feels around the fabric. He presses it against your cunt, rolling until he finds your clit. He has his hand hooked under you, rocking as pressure gathers around his touch. Your breath hitches and you purr, tilting your hips as you as good as ride his hand.

“It’s good,” you say, “let me…”

You reach down and push down the elastic of your sweatpants. He retracts your hands and guides them down for you. You turn over as you untangle your ankles from the fabric and sit up. You’re too impatient to keep playing around.

“Here,” you bend your legs over the cushion, “sit.”

You pat the couch next to you. He seems reluctant but he sits. You hesitate.

“You don’t… we don’t have to keep going if you don’t want–”

“No, I do,” he insists, “really, I don’t wanna rush you.”

“You’re not.”

You stand up and come in front of him. You reach to tug on the zipper of his hoodie and pull it down, revealing his naked torso beneath. You cluck, “you hurried over?”

“Kinda,” he admits lightly as he leans forward to frame your hips.

He lets one hand fall down, tracing your vee to your slit, flicking his finger up between your folds. You twitch and bend to reach for his pants, gripping him through the fabric. He shudders and slides his finger further along your cunt.

You grasp the elastic of his pants and tug. He lifts his ass, his urgency matching your own as he raises the fabric above his tip and sets his dick free. You climb into his lap, holding yourself on your knees as you take him in your hand. You stroke him, he’s already hard, and feel how he trembles. He’s a man, it’s not you, it’s just sex.

You press a hand to his firm chest, feeling the soft hair there, the hard muscle. He trails a hand up and plays with the hem of your shirt. You keep him from lifting it. It’s dark but you don’t want him to see anything.

You angle him against you, rubbing his tip against your cunt. You curl your fingers as you lower yourself onto him. He gasps, his hand resting on your thigh as you take control, easing down slowly as the friction burns your wall. You grunt at the moment of resistance. You’re not wet enough. You don’t fucking care.

You bring your fingers to your lips and wet them in your mouth. You reach down to play with your clit as you sink to your limit. He feels good. You think. He squeezes your hip and his other hand goes to your chest. Your tits are heavy and sore but you ignore the discomfort.

You roll your clit under your fingertips as you rock in his lap. He squeezes your tit harder as he groans. You feel the plucking, dull but there.

He runs his thumb over your tender nipple and you whine, feeling a trickle as the fabric dampens against you. Fuck. Whatever. Just milk. Like a fucking cow, you can't help but leak.

“Feel okay?” Andy asks as he snakes his hand around to your ass, still pawing at your swollen tits.

“Yeah, fine,” you grab his chin and tilt his head up, muting him with a kiss as you buck, flicking at your clit desperately. You just want to cum, you need to. You need that release.

#lloyd hansen #andy barber #dark!lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #andy barber x reader #the gray man #defending jacob #drabble #unexpected #au #series #lloyd hansen x reader

[blackypanther9]

Why do you call me bunny ? – William Afton x Male!Reader

WARNING: Fluff use of pet name !

William lost Elizabeth and he was crying full on in grief. He didn’t mean to lose his sight of her. He was so sure that he always had her in his view and yet…Circus Baby malfunctioned and killed her.

M/n was over in his house and cuddled him, to try and cheer him up. This poor guy had been through enough, thanks to his so called wife, already.

“Shhh…Calm down Willy…”

“I’m a horrible Father !”, William sobbed into M/n’s chest.

“You are not. You told her many times to not go to her. You can’t always keep your eyes on her, just because she can’t obey. You had work to do.”

“It’s always because of work…”

“Will, you didn’t work for almost a whole week and you were running low on money. You spent a whole week just with your kids and me. Of course you have to get back to work eventually.”

William was silent at that, only sobs wracking through his body. M/n stroked William’s hair and back and just let William let it all out.

“You did nothing wrong, bunny…”

“W-why do you always call me bunny ?”, William asked.

He liked the pet name, but he was curious why M/n called him that anyways.

“Because you made Springbonnie, gave him his voice, wear him a lot and entertain kids with it and because I know you like it.”

William blushed a shade of red.

“I thought you…”

“Weren’t interested and ignorant like your stupid wife was ? Bunny, I always listened, always watched. You were always so full of joy to be Springbonnie. Your eyes always sparkle when I call you bunny. Your whole face always lit up when you were talking about your ideas, plans and projects. You were quickly fascinated with some things that turned out better than you anticipated. I saw it all, bunny.”

William blushed a deeper shade of red.

M/n smiled and gave him a soft kiss on the forehead.

“My baby bunny, I would never neglect you for anything in the whole world. I care about you and the kids a lot. And I love you too much to just leave you. I am nothing like that Bitch you were married to. She abused the kids, she raised Elizabeth to become a brat and then she had the nerve to leave you all alone with them.”

William closed his eyes in sadness, but then he smiled.

“Luckily I had you and Henry to help me.”

“Luckily you fell in love with me and I finally could confess without that whore being a wall between us.”, M/n added.

William smiled brightly and blushed.

“I love you so much, M/n.”

“I love you too, bunny.”

With that William soon fell asleep, tired from all the crying, but happy to be in his Lover’s arms.

M/n looked the clock and his eyes widened.

‘I have to cook dinner soon for the kids. Ah shoot…’

Then he looked back to William and smiled softly.

‘I don’t think they mind if they get dinner a bit later than usual…’

And with that M/n also fell asleep.

Masterlist HERE !

#William Afton #FNaF #William Afton x Reader #Male!Reader #Fluff #Afton Family #Elizabeth Afton #Michael Afton #Evan Afton #CC #Crying Child #Past Aftons #Alive Aftons #besides Elizabeth #MY AU

[the-chosen-fanfiction]

Andrew | Beautiful You | Romantic

Requested: Yes

In spite of your low self-esteem, Andrew reassures you that you are just as beautiful as those you compare yourself to, and to him, even more so.

Thomas is not exactly subtle. Whereas he has been staring at Ramah for the past twenty minutes across camp, you have found him out the second he set eyes on her, and are now observing the strange scene by looking up from your sewing every so often.

Matthew tries to be more discreet, but your keen eye has spotted him as well. His gaze is fixated upon Mary, watching her carefully, eagerly drinking in every detail of her.

The two women do not seem to mind it. At least, they don’t seem to be sensing a pair of eyes scrutinising them. 

You don’t feel a pair of eyes on you, either. 

But why would you? It’s not like you’d ever be half as beautiful as Mary or Ramah. Their hair shines, their faces brighten up under any circumstances. Even when tired, they are rays of sunshine, vessels of pure beauty, and you… You are just you. 

Plain, simple, unassuming. With (h/c) hair you wished to be more healthy. And you are certain your (e/c) eyes don’t sparkle as vividly as Tamar’s dark ones. Of course the bachelors around camp will not even consider you a potential marriage candidate. Not when the other three women around your own age here are way more attractive than you are.

You are sunken away in thought as you are suddenly roughly disturbed from your focused state when you accidentally poke your finger with the needle you are holding. Yelping, you immediately bring it to your lips to take up the small droplet of blood that immediately appears. 

Footsteps approach you from behind, and before you can even withdraw your index finger from your mouth, Thomas’ voice rings inside your ears. 

“Hey, (Y/n), could you maybe help me with… Are you okay?” 

You slowly take your hand away from your face and hum, eyeing him expectantly as he gives you a strange look. 

“Well then. Okay, could you maybe help me with trying to ask for Ramah’s hand? I-I mean not like that! I am just… I am trying to… Do you know… Does she… Ever mention me?”

One of your eyebrows rises higher on your face. Thomas awkwardly grins as he gives you a hopeful look, anxiously awaiting your answer. 

“She does, but… What would you need my help for? I do not know the kind of man her father is, so I’m not sure of what use I’d be and–”

“Kafni is fully aware that I intend to marry his daughter one day.” Thomas interrupts you, “It’s just… I want to do something special for her, you know? Ah… Let me rephrase. Imagine being a bachelorette waiting for a potential love interest to ask for her hand…” – Not that difficult to imagine, you bitterly think to yourself – “What would you like him to do? What would make you more interested in marrying a man?”

You put down your sewing work and purse your lips, humming in thought. “Let’s see,” you muse, “Ah… I never really considered anyone being interested in me that way, but… I think I would be interested in being with a man who is Godly, respectful, kind and caring, and most of all he’d have to accept me as I am. I wouldn’t want him to do anything specific, but…”

Pausing, you take a deep breath, suddenly feeling emotional as your throat feels tighter. 

“But the only thing I’d ask for is for him to accept me for who I am, flaws and all.”

Thomas thinks for a moment, gazes over at Ramah, and then shrugs. “Not exactly the kind of answer I was looking for, but thank you anyways, (Y/n).”

You give him a grimace of a smile as he stalks off before even giving you the chance to react. You’re certain he didn’t mean anything negative with it, but it leaves you feeling even more lonely than you are, a pit growing in your stomach. 

Suddenly, you are yearning for some time alone.

Putting down your work, you stand and stretch your sore limbs before heading for the women’s tent, grabbing your shoulder bag containing a few belongings. 

“Where are you going?” Tamar asks as she looks up from her chores, “Is something going on?”

With a small shake of your head, you smile at her. “No, nothing is going on. I just need some time to myself.”

“Where will you be heading?”

You sigh, but there is no hint of annoyance in the sound. “Just to the nearby lake, I think. I need to sort out my thoughts.”

“I know that look. You seem troubled.”

You halt in your step and momentarily consider opening up to her. Tamar seems concerned enough to inquire about it, so why not? She is your friend after all, but you’re not sure if she would understand completely.

“I’ll be fine,” you reassure her, “Thank you. I’ll see you later.” Tamar remains unconvinced as you leave the shade of the tent, stepping out into the scorching sun. 

Holding onto the strap of your bag, you head for the body of water you know to be nearby. 

You had seen Andrew and John head out for it yesterday evening in the hopes of catching a few fish for dinner tonight in the shallow parts of the water, although the latter of the two had returned to camp with no catch and an upset stomach about an hour ago, complaining about feeling under the weather. 

The lake seems deserted for as far as you can look and is only a few minutes away. Part of it is around a bend, but there grows little to no foliage there, leaving you to take a seat with your back to camp, finding some coverage underneath a small tree. 

You sigh and look out over the water, drinking in the feeling of serenity and solemnity. You’re just far enough away from the encampment to not hear any sounds from it, leaving you to your thoughts alone. 

They soon drift to the future. Where would the ministry take you? Where would life after the ministry take you? 

Thomas and Ramah would likely be married. Perhaps something would blossom between Mary and Matthew. Tamar would not have any trouble finding a spouse, either.

You’d be the only bachelorette left without a husband. Not that you needed one, but it hurt regardless. 

You’d have to become more pretty, like they were. 

The sun reflects on the water and makes it so that trying to use it as a mirror is futile. From your bag, you take a polished shard of glass you usually use to see your reflection and hold it in front of your face, inspecting your own features in the harsh light of the nearing noon.

Your (s/c) skin lacks radiance, you establish. With your index finger, you point at a few blemishes here and there. It’s dry and flaky from the damage long walks in bright sunlight has brought along. Your lips are chapped in spite of you usually rubbing them with some oil every night before bed. The (h/c) hair that frames your face doesn’t shine like Mary’s luscious locks do, nor do you have the sweet freckles Ramah has, nor the beautiful allure that Tamar possesses. 

A tear rolls down your cheek and you don’t even bother wiping it away. How will you ever be enough? All the bachelors around camp must have crushes on these three women. There is no way that you can compare, even though it is not meant as a competition.

You sniffle, tucking some hair behind your ear in the hopes of making it look better, but the insecurities take the better of you. With a blurring vision, you wrap your free hand over your mouth and stifle the small sob that threatens to escape.

“Hey, are you alright?”

Andrew, carrying the net he has just cleaned over his arm, startles you greatly. Your eyes widen as you instinctively shy away from the sound of his voice, your heart skipping a beat. 

“Are you okay?” he repeats his question when you do not answer. It takes you a second to gather yourself, wiping dry your cheeks with the back of your hand. Andrew, however, has seen more than enough to know that you are crying. His brow is furrowed in worry, although this goes unnoticed by you.

Your cheeks are flushed with embarrassment as Andrew drops the net onto the ground and takes a seat next to you, the concern not leaving his face. “Hey now, (Y/n). You’re clearly upset about something. Did something happen?”

Sniffling, you shake your head. “It’s nothing, Andrew,” you hiccup, “Thank you, but I’ll be fine. I’ll just need some time by myself.”

The younger son of Jonah does not seem to move to get up again, instead leaning closer to you. “If anyone hurt you, just let me know so I can go and–”

“It’s okay.” you cut him off, “Really.”

Andrew doubtfully sighs. “I will not force you to answer, but know that you can go to Jesus with everything, too. I am sure He will know a way to help you.”

You scoff involuntarily and close your eyes in immediate shame. “I don’t think that He can help me. Plus, I don’t want to trouble Him with my insignificant issues.”

“If they are so insignificant, why are you here all by yourself, crying your heart out?”

Swallowing away the lump in your throat, you exhale. “Because it is significant to me, and me alone. I don’t want to inconvenience other people with my nonsense.”

“You can always inconvenience me with anything, (Y/n),” Andrew emphasises, causing your heart to pleasantly jump inside your chest. “If you need anyone to speak to, you know where to find me–”

“Do you think I’m ugly?”

The question leaves your lips before you can realise it has formed there and your neck and throat immediately turn crimson in humiliation. New tears well up inside your eyes, and they soon roll down your face.

Andrew stares at you dumbfoundedly. “What? I-I mean, what are you talking about? Where does that come from?!”

“You aren’t denying it.” you whimper. 

He shakes his head frantically, and if you hadn’t been so dismayed in this moment, you’d have found the movement of his curls humorous. 

“What? No! Not at all, (Y/n)! I-I think you’re gorgeous!” Andrew's cheeks turn pink and he clears his throat. “But– Where are you getting the idea that you aren’t?”

Your face pales. Did you just hear him correctly, or is he just saying what he’d think would comfort you? 

“W-Well, Tamar is always stunning in her gowns and alluring beauty. Ramah is bubbly and beautiful and has caught the eye of Thomas. Mary is so sweet and caring, so it is no surprise that Matthew is totally infatuated with her, but… No one is looking at me! There is no way that I can ever be as appealing as they are, and it is making me feel… Like I’m not worth it.”

Andrew’s jaw drops. 

“(Y/n), you are worth it!”

You inhale sharply. “Thank you, Andrew, it’s kind of you to try and make me feel better, but I know that you’re just saying it because you think it is what I want to hear, but I know that I am not half as beautiful as–”

“I mean it, (Y/n)!” Andrew counters with a tone to his voice that is almost pleading. You finally dare to look back up at him, his dark eyes filled with genuinity. “I think you are one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever met.”

You gulp. 

“Any man would be so lucky to marry you. You’re a wonderful woman who pursues Adonai so eagerly. You’re friendly, generous, selfless, admirable. You are beautiful on the inside and on the outside.”

Processing what he is truly saying, you chew the inside of your cheek, your heart hammering inside your chest. “That is one of the nicest things someone has ever said to me.”

Andrew smiles at you - delightfully so - and your stomach swirls with sudden butterflies. 

Could he be… 

His eyes sparkle as he looks at you. You think back on the brief conversation you had with Thomas, about what you’d look for in a potential partner. 

Godly. Kind. And the way he is making sure that you are alright is more than enough evidence to prove that he is sweet and caring. 

And he accepts you just the way you are.

“Andrew,” you croak, voice heavy with emotion. “I… Thank you.” 

The former fisherman hums, smiling a bit, but his face twists as if he is thinking about something.

“I would… I would be very stupid if I were to pass up on this opportunity to ask you if you would be interested in arranging a marriage between you and I… I-If you’d have me, that is.”

Your heart skips a beat. “Are you… Are you serious right now?!”

How could a handsome man like Andrew ever fall for someone like you? Sudden uncertainty tugs at your heartstrings. What if this was some kind of twisted joke he was pulling on you?

No, Andrew would not do that. 

“Of course I am serious.” he whispers. “It would be such an honour to have a woman like you at my side for the rest of my life.”

A large grin breaks out over your face. “Then yes! Yes, please!”

Relief floods Andrew’s features. “Oh, that is wonderful! Thank you for trusting me with this, (Y/n)! I must… I must admit that I’ve been in love with you for a while now.” He averts his gaze, shyly looking away. “For quite some time, actually.” The words make your heart soar and you put your hand on his, smiling broadly. 

“Thank you, too,” you respond, “For seeing in me what I didn’t see in me.”

Andrew smiles softly, brushing some hair out of your face. “I’ll repeat it from now until our final days, (Y/n), that you are the most magnificent woman I’ve ever met.”

Blushing, you lean into his touch as he gently cups your cheek, remaining like that for a few long seconds. 

“Shall we sit here for a while longer?” you suggest after a minute or so. Andrew smiles, scooting closer to you so that his leg brushes against yours. 

“Yes,” he says, looking out over the lake. “You and I, let us sit for a while longer.”

He takes your hand into his and squeezes.

#the chosen #reader insert #the chosen x reader #x reader #angel studios #chosen x reader #andrew x reader #the chosen andrew x reader #the chosen andrew

[likesunsetorange]

girl dad! eren drabble

inspired by an art comic i saw on lacampanule’s ig story!

It’s hard for Mikasa to ever say no—with big green eyes that sparkle like little gem stones, filled with all the joy in the world that have yet to be tainted by the realities of the world, the biggest dimpled grin, and a face that’s as sweet as sugar—it’s one of her hardest difficulties as a parent, even for things as miniscule as extra chocolate before bedtime. 

“Okay, that’s enough chocolate for you sweetie,” Mikasa finally musters up the courage to say, though she really shouldn’t have to, she is the parent here. 

Noa’s face forms into a pout, remnants of chocolate still around her mouth, and the big green eyes that look just like Eren’s go wide, filling with so much sadness, it’s almost enough to make her take it all back. “Okay, Mommy,” she replies softly. 

Mikasa sighs, wiping at the sides of Noa’s mouth with her thumb. If saying no to a two-year-old is this hard now, what will she do when Noa’s older? “Tomorrow, you can have more, okay?” She says, a smile on her face as she attempts to cheer her up, “Now go to your room, I’ll be there in a bit so we can read your bedtime story.”

Green eyes go wide once again, but this time with glee. “Okay, mommy!” She says with only the excitement a small child could possess before running off to her room. Mikasa stands, dusting off her pants, and placing the bag of candy high where Noa can’t reach it, knowing she has tendencies much like her father once did to get into trouble.  

“I’m proud of you for saying no,” a deep voice who could belong to no one other than Eren, says from behind her. She hadn’t realized he’d been standing there watching them, too enthralled in their conversation to notice his presence.

Her face scrunches into a scowl—the same person who spent all of last Saturday building a princess playhouse saying this. “Like you’re any better,” she says, rolling her eyes. 

“I actually think I am,” he muses. 

“Sure you are, Eren. But c’mon, we have bedtime stories to go read.”

꩜꩜꩜

Eren wakes up to the feeling of small fingers poking against his face—light taps repeatedly on his nose, cheeks, and forehead. He tries to ignore them at first, thinking it’s merely him dreaming, but they become so rampant, he’s certain it must be something within the realm of reality. 

His eyes flutter open to the sight of a tiny body riddled with bed hair, and big green eyes much like his own, staring back at him. Her face looks tired, she has one sock missing, her pajamas disheveled, one pant leg rising up her tiny leg, and her little stuffed cow in hand—in other words, looking a mess. 

Eren glances at the clock, 12:55, before he sits up, trying not to wake Mikasa. “Noa, sweetheart, what’s wrong? Why are you awake?” He whispers. 

“I had a bad dream,” she whispers through hiccups, big eyes starting to well up with tears. 

Eren’s quick to gather her in his arms, attempting to comfort her, running his hands against her back. “Do you wanna sleep in here?” He whispers. 

“I don’t wanna go back to sleep.”

He sighs, knowing this means he’ll probably be up for a while, but relents, nonetheless. “Okay, but let’s go to the living room so we don’t wake up Mommy, okay?” He whispers back, carefully removing himself from the bed. 

Eren picks up Noa and her small stuffed toy, before motioning for her to be quiet. He carefully closes their bedroom door, and heads towards the living room when Noa speaks up. 

“Daddy, can I get a glass of water, please?” She asks.

“Yea, of course,” he says, taking them to the kitchen. He flicks on the light before placing her and her toy onto the counter while he grabs one of her little pink cups, filling it with water and handing it to her. “Here you go, sweetheart.”

“Thank you, Daddy,” she says in between sips. 

“Do you wanna talk about your nightmare?” Eren asks, as he runs his hands through her hair trying to smooth it out. 

Her face scrunches, just the way Mikasa’s does when she’s upset.“It was scary, Daddy. There were these big monsters and they looked like people, and they wanted to try to eat me,” she says quietly, her voice filled with fear. 

Eren presses a kiss to the top of her head, before leaning down so they’re eye level. “I’m sorry you had a bad dream, those are never fun. But it’s okay because they’re just dreams, alright? You’re safe here with me and Mommy, okay?”

“Okay,” Noa says, nodding her head, mostly convinced. “I love you, Daddy,” a tiny smile forming on her face. 

“I love you too, Noa,” he says, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Do you feel a little better now? Do you want anything else before you go back to bed?”

The innocent smile on her face, the one that’s filled with so much sweetness, with tiny dimples and a face that could resemble nothing but all that is pure, quickly flashes into something that reminds Eren a bit too much of his childhood self. 

“Well…” She starts, a smile on her face. “Can I have some chocolate please, Daddy?”

꩜꩜꩜

Mikasa stirs in the bed, unable to get comfortable. She reaches for Eren, knowing she’ll find comfort in him, only to find an emptiness beside her, which normally wouldn’t ring any alarms in her head, except for the fact that the bed, usually warm, feels cold. Her eyes flash open, scanning for him within their room, knowing sometimes he’ll go on the chair in the corner of their room, only to come up empty. 

She sits up, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, when she notices light coming from beneath their bedroom door. Mikasa sighs, thinking that maybe Noa might’ve woken up Eren, since she’s been having trouble sleeping through the night. She pulls the covers off herself, interested to see what the two of them have gotten themselves into, and also part of her wanting to relieve her late night sweets craving.

Mikasa opens the bedroom door quietly, not wanting to make much noise, and heads towards the kitchen where she can see the light coming from. As she walks towards the kitchen, she can hear little giggles, whispers, and the rustling of plastic wrappers. 

“Shhh, Noa, you’ll wake up Mommy,” she can make out Eren say. 

“Sorry, Daddy,” Noa’s voice says through failed whispers and giggles. 

Mikasa turns the corner to see Noa on the kitchen counter, chocolate on her face, and Eren standing in front of her placing pieces of said chocolate into her mouth, before indulging in some of his own. 

“But Mommy is already awake,” Mikasa says, crossing her arms. The two of them turn to face her, same emerald eyes wide, looking as if they’ve been caught in the worst act. Mikasa turns to face Eren, her brow raised, “What happened to saying no?”

“She had a nightmare!” He says defensively.Mikasa sighs, walking towards the two of them before ripping off her own piece of chocolate. “Well… I guess it is technically tomorrow.”

#vic’s drabbles #eremika #eremika fic #girl dad eren au

[oillydiya]

Things Between Us | Cillian Murphy x OC

Chapter 2 : Who is he?

Summary: Sansa, a 26-year-old graduate student, who unexpectedly encounters a twist of fate when she comes across an actor she never knew before!

Warnings: This fic contains explicit content related to sexuality and various age relationships. The content is not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. *The entire story is a work of fiction. All characters, time periods, and places in the story are purely imaginary.

All of a sudden!! The book on Sansa face, someone lifted it from her face… followed by a small, soft voice.

“What are you doing, nerd?”

Sansa opened her eyes to look. She narrowed her eyes slightly, allowing them to adjust to the light.

"Rest!" she replied curtly.

"Rest? In the middle of this restaurant!" her best friend Gigi repeated.

"Yes," she replied, half-smiling.

Gigi walked over and sat in the chair across from her.

"You really are a strange person," her friend complained before asking, "So what’s the matter? Why doesn’t her face look good?"

Sigh….! Sansa sighed.

"I’m not sure if I feel bad because I still can’t find a gallery to display my finished work or because I’m hungry."

"I think you’re just hungry!"

The young woman shrugged. "It’s true…hunger brings irritability. And arguing!" she told her friend with a frown.

Suddenly! Gigi shrieked with excitement!

"God!"

"What?"

"Huh, the man next to you is Cillian Murphy!" Gigi quickly replied.

"Who?"

"Damn it, Sansa. Don’t you know? He’s the guy who played Thomas Shelby."

"Who is he?" She still didn’t know.

"She really is a nerd! How is it to be British? Don’t know Thomas Shelby," Gigi scolded her young friend.

"Well, I haven’t seen many movies. And I came back to England for two years. Don’t you forget it!"

After finishing that sentence, Sansa glanced at the person her best friend was talking about just now….

She looked around for a moment…. He is a middle-aged man. Probably around forty years old. His sparkling light blue eyes really stood out to her. The face is slender and well-shaped, the lips are thick, the hair is in a beautiful, wavy style. She thought he looked very good at his age!

Ever since she sat here, Sansa didn’t care about anything or look at anyone. And she’s not much of a movie lover. Makes her unable to tell the difference between who should be an actor or an individual. And this person has a personality that looks like a normal person!

"He looks good," she told her friend after stopping to survey the actor.

"Hey! Gigi, what are you going to do?" Sansa shouted. Because right now, her friend is taking out her cell phone to secretly take pictures of the actor.

"Gigi, you have no right to take photos of other people in public without permission." Sansa quickly stopped her friend.

"Just one picture," Gigi replied in a hopeful whisper.

"I think it’s just the fact that he’s a celebrity. That made him tired enough as it was. You shouldn’t deprive him of his right to rest before he’s allowed, right?"

"Okay, I understand what you’re saying." The person who was scolded had a sad face. And put her cell phone down.

"I just want to have a picture of him to look at. I’m not lucky enough to see Cillian Murphy often."

Sansa looked at her friend’s face with understanding. She thought that Gigi was probably a fan of that actor because she looked clearly sad and disappointed.

"I’m fine. You can take a picture with me." A man at the next table spoke up.

Yes! The actor said Cillian Murphy!

"Really?" Gigi cried out happily. She quickly jumped out of her chair.

Her expression and eyes looked extremely happy.

"Please take a picture for me."

Gigi hands Sansa her cell phone. Please help be the cameraman for her and that actor.

"Smile," Sansa told them both before pressing the shutter to take three or four pictures.

Now her best friend walked back and sat down at the table like a winner. With a mouth that smiles and refuses to close!

"How am I?"

"Both are cute. Unbelievable," Sansa replied, half-sarcastic to her best friend before turning to the actor, "Thank you for taking the time to take a photo with her a moment ago."

"But what do you have today? Why did you invite me out?" Sansa’s best friend asked curiously.

"I want you to help critique the finals. I have to send them to the professor tomorrow."

"Um! I don’t think it will happen today."

Sansa’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. When her friend had such a negative expression, it was unusual because normally Gigi never rejected her. No matter what, Gigi is always ready by she side. But this time it’s not!

Sansa narrowed her eyes, a mischievous smile curling the corners of her mouth, before using the persuasive course that she usually uses to attack Gigi.

"Please, please Gigi…. If I don’t have you, I cannot criticize any work in my own life."

The young woman grabbed her best friend’s wrist and held her. Sansa began to press her lips sweetly…. Sniff…. Before pulling the back of Gigi’s hand and rubbing it on her own left cheek. With a soft kiss all over the back of that hand.

"Please, Gigi, na….Gigi."

And the coolest trick she likes to use is the purring sound of little kittens.

"Please, Gigi, nuh…ngh…na…meow…meow na na." Her cheek continued to rub the back of Gigi hand without stopping.

She increased the pressure with her eyes sparkling from tears. Pretending to squeeze to attack her dear friend, found something like this… Anyway, Gigi will definitely accept her!

"Okay, okay, stop…stop it! Stop making that little cat sound," Gigi said half-laughing. Ready to pull out her hand.

"Today I really couldn’t go help her criticize her work. I have an appointment with David’s parents."

She made a serious face, ready to explain the reasons. "I also had to stay at his house. Because tomorrow we’re going to have a picnic in Scotland."

The young woman listened to her best friend’s answer. She leaned over and crossed her arms over her chest in dissatisfaction.

"You’re the meanest witch of this century!" Sansa angrily cursed at Gigi.

"You’re also the naughtiest girl I’ve ever met," she replied to Sansa, amused.

"Brae!!" The girl stuck out her tongue at her best friend instead of answering.

Sansa is currently busy drinking a chocolate cheese milkshake, which the employee had just served to her a moment ago.

"I think you need a partner."

Her best friend turned and spoke in a serious tone while staring at the young woman with concern.

"What do you mean?" Sansa were confused by her friend’s words.

"I think you should find a boyfriend. Or go party, make friends, socialize, and you should have friends other than me," Gigi said.

"I party a lot."

"Drinking wine, listening to music and dancing alone in the apartment. That’s not called a party, Sansa!" Gigi roared!

"I already have you as a friend. There is no need for more."

She replied because she really thought this way.

"But you can’t have me as your only friend for the rest of your life, you know that? You should get to know other people."

Sigh!....Sansa sighed.

"Oh, Gigi! You know I'm not good at interacting with other people. It's too difficult for me."

"I just want you to stop being so introverted and have other friends. The fact that you're so wrapped up in being alone like this is not good at all. I'm worried about you, you know that?" Her friend complained lamentably.

"Are you annoyed with me now?"

"Crazy... I've never been annoyed by you. I just feel bad when you need help. But I can't help you."

Her best friend looked at the young woman with concern and continued, "I just want you to have someone to help you when you need it."

Sansa looked at her friend with fond eyes. She understood Gigi’s concern for her. But damn! Having to socialize or interact with other people is so... There was no one around her that she felt close to, except for this one person, Gigi. Gigi was like a friend, an older sister, and the two of them grew up together. Both of them are like members of the same family. And allowing herself to make friends with people she doesn’t know is very difficult. The girl was too embarrassed to talk to anyone!

"Hey... I’m okay. I’ll find a way out, okay? You don’t have to worry," Sansa replied, giving Gigi a reassuring smile.

"I’m telling the truth. You should have someone," her friend continued to say with a serious expression.

"I'm fine, and I like it. Just being happy with the things I care about is enough, right?" She replied to her dear friend.

Repeat what she think so that Gigi understands and is comfortable.

Before Mr. Louis, the owner of the shop, walked up to the table of the two young women.

"Hello, Ms. Gigi. How are you? Do you want to get anything?"

"No, today I just came out to look for this kid. I'll be gone in a moment."

"Okay." Mr. Louis turned to Sansa.

"Here! Sansa, your favorite juicy cheeseburger." He placed the plate of the cheeseburger in front of her.

A large cheeseburger was placed on a plate, complemented with crispy fried potatoes, and the meat was extremely juicy.

"Wow! It looks delicious. Thank you." She replied to him with the utmost happiness in her voice before lifting the cheeseburger plate and looking at it with delight.

"How is it going? The cheeseburger... Are you ready to be happy in my life?" Sansa said to the cheeseburger.

Kick... Kick... The sound of her best friend’s suppressed laughter rang out. "Did you know? I want others to see your cuteness. Just like what I’m seeing right now." The person’s voice was full of affection for the person in front of her.

Lol... Lol... Sansa laughed at her friend before joking, “You mean, you want to see a crazy person talk to a cheeseburger?”

"True, she’s a crazy girl who always does weird things." The two women laughed at each other.

Sansa picked up the cheeseburger and considered it before taking a bite.

"God," her eyes widened!

"Damn it! This cheeseburger is very delicious. It’s like going to heaven!" The young woman exclaimed, praising without stopping her mouth.

"Sansa…." A small voice interrupted.

"Cheeseburgers can’t get you to heaven. Sex can!"

"Stop it, Gigi!" She looked at her best friend’s face with a confused expression.

"Did you know? If I were beautiful like you, smart like you, I’d be going out every day and sweeping up men all over London."

Sansa’s eyes widened... Gigi’s words really made her unable to believe it. With this friend...

"Oh my gosh, Gigi, you’re a doctor, why are you giving me this kind of advice?" She blamed her dear friend before continuing to say, "Remember Sean O’Connell’s line from Mitty?"

"True beauty. Not looking for attention," the two girls said in unison, and Sansa reinforced her will…

"And I can tell you that. If I had to choose between a man and a cheeseburger. I’d prefer a cheeseburger." She replied to her best friend in an irritated mood.

"Of course… because you don’t know how to have sex yet!!!" Gigi shot back at the person in front of her with the expression of an extremely bored person.

"Stop talking about it! You’re making me nauseous. Can I be happy with this cheeseburger for just ten seconds?" Sansa was annoyed and embarrassed because this was in the middle of a restaurant.

Gigi tried to say something, but Sansa quickly raised her hand to cut her off. Ready to count on fingers according to seconds. One…two…three at her best friend. Before the girl could stop teasing, because right now, Gigi’s expression doesn’t look very happy with her actions.

"Okay, okay, I’m sorry," she apologized to make her best friend’s mood better.

"Uh!... But are you coming back yet?" Sansa realized. Just the other day, she had accidentally composed a song, and today she brought that song notebook with her. Sansa wanted her friends to critique her lyrics.

"Not yet. I’m going to stay with you for a while and then go to David’s house."

"Then would you please critique the song I composed? I just put in the melody. Not sure if it’s good or not. In any case, you can’t stay and help critique the finals for me."

"Sure, let me take a look."

Sansa quickly turned around and searched for the notebook in her bag, then handed it to her friend to see.

"Will you let me sing to you? So that you can understand the melody."

“Sure! Sing it.”

" ..Your Words Are Sweeter Than Honey You Nourish My Soul

Oh Just To Know You Is To Love Come And Make Me Whole

Take Me To The River I Will Swim I Will Swim

Take Me To The River I Will Swim I Will Swim. "

Sansa wasn’t sure if she sang well or not, but she tried to sing to Gigi. Will her understand the melody and content as completely as possible? She noticed that Gigi’s expression looked amazed. Her best friend sat still, listening intently with a bright smile on her face.

“There you are! Will you be good at everything? And damn! I never knew your voice was this beautiful.”

Sansa rolled her eyes and looked up at her friend.

“I sing 'Happy Birthday' to you every year. How can you not know what I sound like?” she reminded with a laugh.

“True, but it’s not the same,” Gigi laughed.

“So, how was it? Is the melody enough? Does it go well with the lyrics?”

“That’s great. But I wonder how you can write such a profound love song even though you’ve never been in love?” The listener’s eyebrows furrowed curiously.

“People don’t have to be in love to write love songs. Just add your imagination and feelings. I wrote this song because I read a book about it. Love is a river,” Sansa answered proudly.

“You really are incredible,” Gigi replied with a mysterious smile.

“I think I’ll try adding some piano notes. Not sure if it will turn out well or not?”

“Try it! I definitely think you did a great job. But now I have to go,” said the female friend.

“Are you leaving now?” The person being told goodbye sat with a sad face.

“Um, you can do it, right? It means criticizing the work. You have to help yourself. Please help yourself.”

“I think I can do it. It must have been rubbed away,” she replied.

Gigi packed up her things, got up, and prepared to leave. “I’m leaving.”

A close female friend walked half a step away from the table. Finally, she turned to look at the girl who was now sitting with a sad face.

"Stop giving me that face," she tells Sansa, laughing.

“What kind of face?” Sansa asked her best friend. Because she knows that this face will make Gigi’s heart soften and come back to her every time.

“You little puppy face with droopy ears and a droopy tail. Anyone who sees this must give up,” she said, returning to sit down in her original position.

“Hey, listen, I’ve known you since you were five years old. I love you so much. You're like my sister. We're like blood brothers.”

Gigi said, holding Sansa’s hand.

“Do you know that in my life I know a lot of people? But I’ve never met anyone as talented, smart, and gifted as you,” Gigi tells Sansa with heartfelt feelings.

“Don’t be kidding…she’s a doctor. That means you have to meet only talented people,” she replied as if she didn’t believe those words.

“That’s right! But you’re not like anyone, you know? You always manage to amaze me with your abilities. You’re good at almost everything. When I find out that you are good at this, you will have other things to surprise me. Can she do this too? Yes! That’s probably because you’re a nerd,” Gigi joked, laughing.

“Stop making fun of me!” Sansa who was praised folded her arms and scowled!

“Alright! I haven’t seen that finale yet. But I’m sure that piece must be excellent. Just like you always do. You’re very talented, you know? But you just lack confidence. You must have more confidence. And you have to believe that you can do it, okay?” Gigi encouraged her friend.

Before adding that, “Or if you really can’t criticize your own work. You can take a photo and send it to me. I’ll have David critique it as well."

Sigh…! Sansa sighed.

“It’s okay, art has to be seen with your own eyes. If you don’t see those images with your own eyes, you won’t understand what I’m about to say. Come on, I’m fine. I’ll find my own way. You go!” Sansa also said to her best friend. Sad tone. But she kept her feelings down because she didn’t want her to worry.

“Okay.” Gigi stood up and reached out to ruffle the girl’s hair.

“Go on, nerd. You can definitely do it.” With a hand still rubbing his head like that,

“Stop treating me like a child. I’m twenty-six already, Gigi,” she replied, looking half-annoyed and half-embarrassed.

“You’ll always be my little five year old,” Gigi pinched Sansa’s chin. Ready to shake gently. To convey the love and affection that she has for this young girl.

They embraced and kissed each other goodbye.

“Bye, witch.”

“Bye, Nerd.”

Then best friend walked away.

#cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x oc #cillian murphy #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy fanfic

[ss-shitstorm]

Okay okay I’m currently rereading fortuna primaginia for like the seventh or eighth time rn and I am genuinely very curious (and you by no means have to answer this if you don’t want to) but how would the story have differed if Ratchet had shot his shot first and reader had ended up with him before Optimus? My mind is just rolling at the parallels of what could be similar but what would be so very different. Would Optimus have even attempted engaging the reader after that? I love them so much!!!

(Anon sorry I'm sure you just wanted a simple little aside but you're getting a full blown greentext headcanon sloppy style fanfic)

Slaps ask This bad boy can fit SO MUCH angst in it good fucking god. This has been literally eating at my brain every waking second since I received it. There’s just so, so many ways this could go down. And since there IS so many ways this could go down, please by no means treat this shit my brain coughed out as the only way. It’s just a way. But it got my in a vice grip and won’t let go.

Also if anyone’s got their own ideas about how this could’ve gone down please, please share

-Around the time you guys had your first little late night/early movie pow wow, Ratchet, in a wired/half asleep delirium, makes a pass. -It’s a throwaway pass, probably relevant to something in the movie. He doesn’t expect you to even respond. -He definitely doesn’t expect you to reciprocate. -He knows he should stop right exactly here and never bring it up again

-But he doesn’t. -He’s old. He’s tired. He’s (at least a little) drunk. He’s been fighting for so long and passed up so many chances at happiness. Fuck it. He’s gonna see where this goes. -He starts making excuses to see you more often, and you do the same with him.

-OP notices this and immediately backs off, full stop. -You figure he wasn’t actually that into you to begin with, and (albeit reluctantly) shrug it off, and are thus freed to peruse Ratchet with no remorse. -In reality, it’s a knee-jerk reaction out of respect to Ratchet, since he’d done the same for him when they were dating, and he’d first started talking to Elita. Ratchet already sacrificed his happiness for him once before. he’s not going to let him do it again. -But that doesn’t stop his feelings from doing…whatever it is they’re doing. -You still saved Bumblebee. You still adopted Bumblebee, so this mech can’t not see you. -Every time he takes you to the park, or the movies, or on a nature walk somewhere, and sees you playing with his sparkling he wants to shove his head into an industrial trash compressor -He’s happy for you. He’s happy for Ratchet. He’s forever indebted to you for saving Bumblebee and Primus-fragging-blessed why isn’t that enough? -That and he’s still actively mourning the loss of Elita, whom you share an almost identical EM signature with, so every time he’s within sensing range of you he’s blasted with grief and guilt. -But he still spends time with you. It hurts just to look at you, but if the alternative is not seeing you at all then he’ll gladly endure the pain.

-When the heat cycle hits, you’re actually with Optimus. He, you and Bumblebee were in one of the training rooms getting some (gentle, for Bee’s sake) exercise. -When that electrical, wet, cracked egg sensation first drips down your spine, Optimus stops what he’s doing, stares at you, and starts trembling. -You’re understandably worried and ask him what’s wrong. -He manages to articulate something about you emitting an abnormal EM frequency, and to please to go see Ratchet about it immediately. -You have more questions, but he excuses himself from the conversation to walk a safe distance away from you Bee, and proceeds to tear a fucking wall out -You go to the infirmary to see Ratchet, who explains heat cycles and why he thinks your mutant little human body is mimicking one while crushing the edge of a medical berth with his servos. -You, already pretty riled up from watching two (2) of your handsome robot buddies crush and smash things on your behalf, tell him to go ahead and break the Hynek’s scale with you -Ratchet,having zero reason to restrain himself otherwise, mass converts, bends you over a human-sized medical gurney, and fucks you until you black out.

-You don’t go into a coma. Ratchet’s exceptionally skilled in maneuvering his field, so freeing it from your grabby, inexperienced one isn’t a problem for him. -Nor do you wind up with a busted pelvis, bruises or bleeding after sex(at least, not by much. His dick’s still the size of two tallboy monster cans duct-taped together.) -But after the third or so time you guys bone, you do start coughing a lot. And passing out a lot. And puking a lot. -Ratchet’s starting to worry he missed something in his evaluation of your body’s adaption to energeon and cybertronian bio fluids. So he runs some scans. -Lolnope. Turns out you adapted too well. You’re fucking pregnant. -He stares at the results for a whole-ass hour before he can even summon the courage to explain this to you. -By “explain” he means “I had no idea this was possible and I still don’t know how it’s possible or what the fuck it’s going to do to your tiny little squishy body if you decide to keep it.” -You, knowing full well how devastatingly close their whole species is to extinction, thinking about Bumblebee growing up without ever seeing another sparkling, decide “fuck it. We doing spacemom 2 : electric boogaloo”

-Ratchet’s whole ass world changes right exactly then. -In a bad way. -He’s going to be supportive. He’s going to take care of you. He’s going to monitor you night and day and give you everything you could possibly ever need, because not only is this entirely his fault and he cares about you, but- -He doesn’t want to be around sparklings. -Bumblebee is different. Bumblebee doesn’t exist because of him -But because of what happened with Soundwave, and the cassettes, he does not want to have a sparkling. He’s not allowed to. Not after what he did. -He starts drinking more. And loosing himself in his work. And finding reasons to not be around you. -Or anyone. -He’s in his lab constantly. He says it’s because he’s learning as much as he possibly can about human bodies and human reproduction and running what tests he can to find out how to give you the nutrients the sparkling needs without poisoning you, how to compensate for the effects of your weaker field on it’s organ and internal systems development. -He’s not lying. But he’s also using it as an excuse to stay the hell away from you. -Your relationship starts deteriorating, along with your health. -Seeing you getting sicker and weaker because of something he did to you is dredging all his baggage with the Iaconian hospital experiments up from the dark corners of his mind and you are in no condition for him to confess about that now. -So he hides. You’re left out in the cold.

-Optimus see’s you emotionally freezing to death, and offers warmth. -The time you’d normally reserved for spending with Ratchet is now spent with him. -You don’t want to dump your problems on him. You don’t. -But Optimus feels the sting of Ratchet’s cold shoulder just as badly as you do. So he winds up being less an emotional dumping ground and more of a commiserating partner. -You’re both so worried about him. -Op’s so worried about you, being balls deep in your carrying cycle, puking blood almost daily and in a terrible place with your baby daddy. -He tells himself it doesn’t go deeper than that. And it never will -He knows it’s bullshit. -He knows his spark screaming out for him to comfort you and screaming out for him to take you are two vines in the same jungle, hopelessly braided together and impossible to separate fully. -He knows this and he still invites you out to stargaze after Bee’s been put to sleep, wrapping you up in so many sweaters and blankets and bringing you to the top of the base for the clearest view of the desert sky. -He’ll lie down on his back and you’ll sit next to his helm and nerd out until you inevitably fall asleep mid-sentence somewhere. -He’s heard you name every single star in every single visible constellation a hundred times, and he’ll gladly hear it a hundred more. -He offhandedly compares you to Ursa while you’re pointing it out, and you break down in tears. -You’re not a bear. You’ve never been a bear. Bears are strong enough to keep their shit together. You’re not keeping your shit together. At all. -He tells you that’s bullshit. He tells you anyone in your position would be breaking down, yes including a bear. -He tells you you’re the strongest person he’s ever met and whatever’s going on with Ratchet’s not your fault. It’s not. -He has a point, but you still feel so weak, and tell him you can see why Ratchet wouldn’t want to be with someone as fragile as you. -Seeing you like this breaks something in him. There’s protocols blowing up left and right in his processor and spark telling him to stop the tiny human from crying. Stop the adoptive mother of his sparkling from crying. Stop you from crying. -So he rolls over, he cradles you against his cheek while you sob. You lean into him, throw your tiny arms around him and - -He kisses you -He realizes it’s a mistake the second he does it. He breaks the kiss, wracked with guilt, apologies immediately, tires to pull away- -You don’t let him. You kiss him back. -His field rolls over you out of nowhere like a tsunami, knocking you on your ass. -He can feel your field already sinking it’s inexperienced kitten claws into his, and he yanks it away before they can entwine further. -You two stare at each other in silence for a few moments after that, before wordlessly heading back inside. -You go straight to bed, too tired to analyze exactly what the fuck that was, or wonder if you were wrong about him not liking you. -He goes back to his room and stares at the wall. He has no excuse for what the fuck he just did. He doesn’t even drink. He made that mistake stone cold sober. -Both you and Ratchet need his support right now, not whatever shit he just pulled. -He’s a leader and a father. He can’t ever afford to make a mistake like that again. -But he can’t leave you alone, because he knows Ratchet won’t be here for you. -And he can’t leave Ratchet alone, because he won’t let anyone else near him. -He stares at the wall for the rest of the night.

-The next day, the sparkling sends out it’s first ping, seeking to start it’s nonverbal, psychic bond with it’s sire -Except, it doesn’t send it to it’s sire. -Ratchet’s field had been clamped so tightly around his frame ever since this started you haven’t been able to feel it at all. Naturally, the sparkling had nothing to cling to either. -Instead, it forms a bond with the mech who’s field dragged you in like a riptide -It forms one with Optimus -Neither of you bring this up to Ratchet. You can’t. You both already feel guilty as hell for whatever the fuck that was. -But neither of you can deny the gravitational pull you feel towards each other anymore. -The sparkling starts sending him clips of your voice. Of His voice. -Optimus feels his spark splitting in two both because this tiny little ethereal voice is calling out to him, not Ratchet, and because he can’t answer that tiny voice. -You make tentative plans to put your head through a fucking cheese grater the second this metal baby is out of you.

-Fortunately, that comes sooner than later. -Unfortunately, much like with Bee, the sparkling’s field gets lodged in your brainwaves during emergence, and can’t fully separate -They do finally become untangled once she’s born -But that’s only after your neural activity slows to a crawl when you blackout -NOW it’s coma time, baby.

-Seeing you comotose after giving birth to his sparkling is the last straw for Ratchet -He snaps -Hands the sparkling to Optimus, apologizes, and just leaves. -Optimus is left largely alone and flailing with this sparkling, who is basically recognizing him as her dad. -She repeatedly sends him clips of your voice, her way of asking “Where’s mom? I want mom? I waited so long to see them where’s mom?” -The first thing she blurts out with her primitive vox are the beginning notes to David Bowie’s Diamond Dogs. -Echo seems like a fitting name. He relays this experience and the suggestion to Ratchet. -Ratchet’s optics glaze over. His lip trembles. He unintentionally crushes the cube of hi-grade he’s holding, but agrees. -But beyond that, Ratchet is gone. -Wakes up, attends to any medical issues for the team, then drinks himself to unconsciousness, rinse and repeat. -He is a miserable, drunk old bastard barely fit for duty let alone to be a father -Thank god for Fowler, who’s kept people like Astoria, Carly and Raoul on call for exactly this outcome(He predicted robot fucking would have repercussions, and he was RIGHT) -Astoria takes one look at your comatose body and gets her tubes tied immediately. -They wind up having to take babysitting off base most of the time, though, because Ratchet refuses to be around any humans -Which is why when Jack, Miko and Raf wind up there eventually, he’s less than enthused. -They should leave. They NEED to leave, because he’s only ever hurt things smaller than himself. -Despite this, Raf and Bumblebee manage to still get through to him somehow. -His relationship with Echo, though. -It’s bad. -He can’t even look at her without seeing your face. And Soundwave’s face. And every single cassette he forced into existence.

-Optimus visits you while you slumber. -It’s not often that he can do this, pressure of being a leader. And a father. And now the lone diplomatic relation between cybertronians and humanity, after you decided to take a preemptive dirt nap. -Sometimes he tells you mundane things, like how his day went, how everyone’s doing -He likes to tell you how Bee and Echo are doing. That they’ve gotten along exceedingly well. Their so close in age, that’s to be expected. -But Bee adores her, and she’s aggressively possessive of him -And, when he’s run out of things to say, he’ll thank you. He’ll thank you for saving Bumblebee. For fighting so hard to establish refuge for his people here. For keeping him company. For being his friend. -For letting him love you. -He always chokes up on the last one, and leaves before he can finish, excusing himself from a quiet room and leaving as silently as he came.

-Ratchet visits you too. -A lot -In fact, when he’s not in the infirmary, or his quarters, or drinking in either of those places, he’s here. -But unlike Optimus, he comes up empty for words. -He just watches your unmoving body, and the gentle oscillations of the various monitors hooked up to you -He will say one thing, though, every time. Right before he leaves -It’s always the same thing. -”I’m sorry.”

-While this is going on, you’re busy cavorting around with Elita in the realm of the primes with Rumble and Frenzy -She (lovingly) berates you for not sleeping with her husband, which is a trip in of itself. -In between trials she teaches you how to hop in and out of dreams -Even the nightmarish, extremely unstable ones -So naturally, you dive right into one of Ratchet’s dreams -You’re flooded with every single last thing haunting his mind. -All of it. His history with the medical research. Everything he’s done. -It’s so horrific you can hardly stay for longer than a heartbeat, but- -You fight through the darkness to get to him, unrelenting until you grab his servo -And when you do so, you get to see him. Actual him. The him buried beneath the toxic walls he’s built up. -And that him bleeds nothing but the purest, unconditional love for you. For your sparkling. For Optimus and Bee. -He’s still there. The mech you fell in love with is still there. -He’s just drowning in his own regret and misery with no way out -His anguish is an uncharted mountain and he needs a guide -You’re going to have to be that guide -So with some intense astral fuckery, you drag him him out of his own dream, and Elita drags the both of you into Optimus’s dream.

-Optimus’s dream is more stable. -Thank god it can withstand the emotional shitshow that is the four of you being in the same place -There’s enough angst and self-blame to flood god’s basement -Elita, being dead and all, has even less tolerance for this bullshit then the three living of you combined -She grabs you with one arm and kisses you, and uses the other arm to push Ratchet into Optimus’s lap. -It devolves into a fourway pretty fast -You’re the luckiest human in the fucking universe -Afterwards, Optimus laments how guilty he feels for wanting this. For enjoying this. How bad he feels about wanting you. How much he still wants Ratchet. -He feels like a selfish asshole for pining after you both. You two should be happy together. Why can’t he just be happy for you two while silently drowning in his grief for Elita -Both you, Ratchet and Elita tell him that’s bullshit. -Both you, Ratchet and Elita tell him all of them deserve to be happy. -Elita tells all of you in no uncertain terms if you three don’t find a way to be a thruple IRL she’ll put each and every one of you in a sex coma IRL so help her Primus.

-You wake up. -It’s been 30. Fucking. years. -The first thing you see upon waking up is the last thing you saw before blacking out -Your little girl -She’s taller than a two story townhouse and her optics are the same color as your eyes. -”Welcome back, Mom.” -You can’t even begin to comprehend what you’re seeing -You don’t have time. The next person in the room is Bee, who’s even taller. -He knees down, trembling, warbling, tears in his optics. -”Did you have a nice nap?” -Reader.exe has stopped working -The next person in -Oh -Oh. -It’s Ratchet -Bee and Echo clear out before you can scream at them not to leave, leaving you alone with your estranged boyfriend

-He walks over to you slowly, mouth set in a firm, flat line. -He kneels down beside you, places his hand on the side of the berth -And starts openly weeping. -He’s sorry. He’s sorry for putting you in danger. He’s sorry for knocking you up. he’s sorry for icing you out. He’s sorry for fucking everything and tells you if you had even a shred of self-preservation instinct left in you you’d leave him and never look back and he’d never blame you and- -And you tell him to shut the fuck up. -You kiss him. He smells like highgrade and millennia of repressed guilt and you can’t get enough of it because it’s fucking Ratchet.

-You tell him about the coma. You tell him about all the dreams. You prove it to him by relaying everything about the cassettes. -His face pales further. You decide to (temporarily) withhold information about the dream orgy -You reassure him that where you were and how you got there, you could see shit. You could see the driving force and divine interplay of how bad decisions and poor judgment come to tangle hopelessly together and prompt action like puppeteers through the strings of the livings and you’re absolutely not done which this, but -You still love him. Nothing is ever going to change that. -Dude looks like he was fucking reborn. There’s something so young in those teal searchlights that make you feel like a child again. -For a moment, everything is okay. -He spends the rest of the night with you, never once leaving your side.

-You don’t get a happily ever after yet, though. -You still have two grown-ass children you need to catch up with -One of which doesn’t know you at all. -She’s extremely eager to start a relationship with you though because she’s been looking forward to this her entire life -She might be an adult, but the way she turns her optics on you and listens with rapt attention when literally anything comes out of your mouth makes you feel like you actually got your baby back -She’s utterly fascinated by you and worships the ground you walk on, treating you like some sort of beloved idol or storybook character come to life -It’s cute for now and probably not the healthiest reaction but that is by no means your biggest concern, because -Echo and Ratchet’s relationship is terrible -You can’t even call it a relationship -She’s got daddy issues out the aft -Blames him for everything that happened to you, which he happily reinforced with his self-depreciating lifestyle -Bee also low-key blames Ratchet for taking his mom away. He understand it’s not his fault, it was an accident, but you were gone for 30 years. -Echo is absurdly attached to the gaggle of humans that raised them, even more so than Bee. -She’s even more attached to Optimus, follows him around like a lost puppy and craves his approval -Which isn’t that hard to earn because he adores her. -He struggles with her grudge against her biological sire, though. Because no matter what he’s never found it in himself to blame Ratchet, and has tried, to little avail, to turn her towards him. -She’s shown considerable proficiency in medicine, but refuses to study it seriously because it’s what “that guy” does and FUCK “That guy”. -You know it’s not entirely your responsibility to fix her and Bee’s opinion of Ratchet -But it’s an enormous fucking mess and the burden’s going to be way easier if shared

-You go to Optimus for help -Because, aside from the humans, he’s the one who basically raised these two. -Alone -That cannot have possibly been easy -That cannot have possibly left him without some damage -He’s been kind, but distant ever since you awakened -Seems to be reluctant to speak to you alone -But once you have him alone, he breaks down -Sweeps you up in his hands -begs you to just let him hold you -He missed you. He missed you so fucking bad -He never told Ratchet about the time you two merged. Or the bond he formed with Echo because of it -Or the kiss -The guilt that comes over his face when bringing this up breaks your heart -You can’t take it anymore

-You go to Ratchet -You tell him about the dream in blinding detail -He looks like he’s watching a slow motion train crash when you bring it up, but he remembers every last vivid bit as though it were yesterday -Admits it was the happiest he’d ever been and waking up felt like getting kicked out of heaven -Admits he never actually wanted to break up with Optimus -Admits those feelings resurfaced when you were sick and Optimus was the only one he’d let anywhere near him -Admits that made him feel even worse because you were fucking dying -Probes you for your feelings for Optimus -This time you break -Fall to your knees and start fucking sobbing -You’ve loved this mech ever since you first laid eyes on him -Ever since fate determined you’d bring that tiny yellow sparkling from the brink of death -Being apart from him makes you feel like a plant without water. You’re shriveling up and drying out. -You need him. You don’t want to be apart anymore. -You tell Ratchet about the merge. The bond. The kiss. -Ratchet looks about as relived as he does devastated -Relived, because you want Optimus as badly as he still does -Devastated because he made himself physically unavailable for Echo to form that bond -He knows forming that bond with Optimus was probably the best thing that could have possibly happened to her at the time -But he also knows it happened because he fucked up and continued to fuck up for thirty whole ass years and his daughter wants nothing to do with him and it’s completely his fault -You tell him as kindly as possible, that yeah, he’s right, but also to shut the fuck up. -If she knew what he’d been through, she’d understand. -It’s gonna take a long time and a whole lot of work, but it’s not too late to fix this. -It’s also not too late to fix things with Optimus, and that probably won’t take as much work

-Since that’s the easier of the two tasks by far, that’s the one you guys start with -Both you and Ratchet corner him in the infirmary after he comes back from a mission a little banged up -Tell him in plain fucking english you both remember the dream, both want him romantically and carnally, both willing to move mountains to make this work, and if you don’t want Elita to make good on her threat you’d better sort this shit out now -Optimus doesn’t need any further convincing -Fucks you both till you see Primus and pass out.

-Now that you’ve made headway on sorting your relationship shit out, -It’s time to start sorting the parenting shit out -With the three of you working together, it’s a lot less overwhelming -Bee, emotionally mature as he is, winds up working through his grievances with Ratchet pretty easily -He never wanted to hold a grudge against him to begin with, and was pretty eager to drop it when given sufficient reason -That, and the fact that his dad, (who he’d been goading to confess to for years) has finally hooked up with his mom makes him pretty happy. -Echo is far less easy to appease -For a while, it actually gets worse, since she’s jealous of the time you and Optimus spend with Ratchet -But because of the time you’re spending together, it makes it harder for her to avoid him

-She asks you one day “what the frag you could possibly see in him” while she’s simultaneously re-calibrating the ground bridge resonance controls and running an experimental distillation on synthetic red energon -Staring stupidly with your mouth open at the similarities, you tell her -”Right now, I see you. Goddamn you’re just like him.” -She snaps her wrench in half, growls and kicks the shards across the room. -“Like him? I can’t fraggin’ stand him!” -You sigh. “He can’t stand himself either.” -She makes a face like she knows you have a point but isn’t willing to admit it even to herself, and that’s the exact same face Ratchet made when you told him you wanted to keep her.

-She finally approaches Ratchet the next day -Just walks up to him while he’s in the lab, drags a stool over and sits down -”So apparently we both hate ourselves” -Ratchet stops what he’s doing. -“What could you possibly hate yourself for?” -”Besides the obvious?” “-What obvious-?” “I’m the reason mom was in a coma.” -Ratchet drops his wrench. And his jaw -Tries to tell her that’s bullshit. -She won’t let him get a word in edgewise -”And I know you hate yourself for that too.” -He doesn’t even try to deny that one -”Hating you for the same reason I hate myself makes it easier to hate myself. And I…don’t want to hate myself anymore.” -Ratchet.exe has stopped working -She tells him she has absolutely not forgiven him for being practically non-existent in her life, and she’s not sure if she ever will but- -Maybe she doesn’t have to, to move on. -Maybe they can acknowledge this as a massive-ass problem that will keep coming back and never fully be resolved -And maybe they can move forward despite it -And despite both of them trying exceedingly hard not to be, they’ve wound up extremely similar, so -Maybe learning not to hate themselves will be easier if they do it together. -She tells him in spite of everything she still wants to like him. So bad. -Ratchet finally stops, and turns to look at her. -She’s gritting her denta, digging her digits into the side of the seat so hard it cracks, and holding back tears. -He tells her, after several tries to get his mouth working again, that he wants to give her a reason to like him. -”Yeah well-” she shakily pries her servos off the seat, jumps down, picks up his wrench and hands it back to him. “I guess we have the rest of our lives to figure that out.” -Her hands brush his as she hands the wrench back, and for the first time, she doesn’t recoil or jerk them away. -She leaves -He stands there for a whole thirty seconds after she leaves staring at the wrench before setting it down on the desk -Then putting his helm down on the desk -And starts crying harder in relief then he’s ever cried in his life

#Fp #optimus x reader #Optimusxyou #Ratchet/reader #Ratchet/you #optimus/reader #optimus/you #ratchetxreader #ratchetxyou #transformers #tf fandom #sparklings #what the fuck have I done oh god sorry

[xxladyballadxx]

The Mission

 Clive Rosfield x Reader

(ANGST)

“My mission is to...what?”

“(Y/n), we need you to focus. Your mission is to eliminate Clive Rosfield and his friends before they could get to the mothercrystals.” 

“But-”

“If you fail to do this, (Y/n). There will be consequences. Let me ask you one last time. Do you stand with us? Do you stand with the Kingdom of Waloed?” 

“Yes, Master Barnabas, I do. I understand what I must do.” 

“One more thing.”

“Yes?” 

“Try not to get too attached to them.” 

“I won’t, Master Barnabas.” 

(Flashback ended)

(Y/n)’s POV 

It’s been months ever since I teamed up Clive and his friends. I haven’t completely forgot about my mission. I know what I have to do. Master Barnabas and Lady Benedikta are counting on me. I can’t disappoint them. Then again...I feel terrible by doing this. Lying to Clive and others. They don’t seem to be bad people. They have no idea what I’m up to and one of them is not onto me which is good. It seemed that I’ve earned their trust somehow. 

I’ve been travelling with them for quite a while and somehow we grew close. Even though Master Barnabas informed me not to get too attached them. Maybe I already have...

While the others were resting, I walked up to the tree and sat down to gaze at the stars that were gleaming across the sky. Thinking about whether I should continue the mission or not. If I don’t, Master Barnabas will kill me for sure. “I don’t know if I want to do this anymore...” I said to myself silently, looking up to the dark blue sky with a sad face. 

“You looked troubled, (Y/n).” Clive startled me when he marched his way up to the tree to sit with me underneath it. “C-Clive..um...why aren’t you resting?” what the fuck, (Y/n)? was that the first thing you’re going to ask him?!

“Well, I couldn’t sleep and I thought I should come up here and join you, if you don’t mind.” Clive responded with a warm smile. I whipped a smile back at him and then continued to watch the stars sparkle in the sky, “I don’t mind at all.” 

Clive and I were sitting next to each other, gazing upon the stars of wonders. While journeying along with him and others, Clive grew to like me a lot and not to mention he’s very protective of me. I told him countless times I can defend myself. “(Y/n), you’ve been awfully quiet for a whole day. What seems to be troubling you?” Clive figured that I wasn’t speaking much today since I have a lot of going on in my mind. Jill and Cid seem to notice it I guess...

“It’s nothing, I’m fine, really.” I’m such a good fucking liar. I always have been anyway. 

“(Y/n), I can tell something is bothering you. That look on your face says so.” Clive pointed it out, he seems to care so much about what’s on my mind.

I leaned my head back to the tree, still looking up to the sky, “I’m just tired. I’m so tired of this. The war, the bloodshed, the blight that is spreading. Everything.” I wasn’t lying about that to Clive. I was speaking the truth, “I wish this nightmare could be over already. I don’t want to keep fighting anymore...”

Clive turned his head to look towards the same direction as me, locking his eyes onto the dark midnight sky, “I feel the same, (Y/n).” I looked at him with a sad-stressful look on my face. “Ever since I lost my younger brother, my family. Every part of my life fell apart. I find it surprising that I’m still alive, after everything that has happened around me.” 

“Clive...”

“I am willing to find this man who is responsible for my brother’s death, I will not stop until I track down the bastard.” 

He did mention his younger brother a few times, I have heard what happened at Rosaria. Many souls were lost there and I can’t imagine what it’s been like for him. “Clive, if something bad happens to me, would you still trust me?” I questioned him, hoping that he still would. Clive turned his face towards mine and held my hand into his, squeezing it gently and looked at me directly in the eyes, “Of course I would still trust you, (Y/n). I always will..” we leaned in closely for a kiss but before that could happen, someone I know appeared. 

(Y/n)’s POV ended

“Getting very touchy here, (Y/n). You disappointed me.” Barnabas came out of the shadows, he was spying on you and Clive while you two were your moments together. “Barnabas..” Clive hissed with a tone of hatred. You rose with shock, not knowing what to say or do. You were shaking with fear. 

“Have you forgotten about your mission?” Clive figured that Barnabas was aiming the question at you. One of them stared at you in disbelief. “(Y/n), what is he talking about?” Clive asked you without looking at you directly, too focused on facing Barnabas’s direction. You opened your shaky mouth to talk but you  couldn’t. Somehow you knew this would happen and so it did...

“Clive, (Y/N)?!” Jill heard the commotion and she came along with Cid. So did Torgal They spotted Barnabas at the other side. They unsheathed their blades and rushed over to Clive’s side. The three of them stood in front of you. “(Y/n), don’t tell me that you’ve grown fond of him.” Barnabas chided, sounding displeased, “Have you decided to abandon your mission?” 

Clive twisted around to face you, “(Y/n), is there something you want to tell me?” his voice poured with anger, you couldn’t bear it any longer so you had to tell him. “I’ve been working with Barnabas ever since he took me in...” there was a hit of regret trembling within your voice. This moment caused Jill and Cid to stare directly at you in shock. Clive didn’t want to believe it, everything he knew about you was a lie. “Barnabas wanted me to kill you before you could get to the mothercrystals. Jill and Cid too. That was my mission.”  you were emotionally hurting yourself so much by telling Clive this. “So after all this time, you’ve been lying to me about everything. Was this all planned before you met me? Was everything just a performance to you? All of it fake?” Clive questioned angrily, clenching his fists. He was so angry that you’ve kept a dirty secret from him. You could see him hurting because of you. 

“Not all of it was fake, Clive! The moment we had together, that was real. I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of you and your friends because I just couldn’t do it!! I never had any friends in my life until I met you! I know I’ve lied to you and kept a secret from you. I know you already hate me for this and I’m sorry!” you cried your shattering heart out, wiping the tears of regret off your face. Clive stood there, not giving you a response at all. Anger was still painted across his face. He looked away from you and didn’t say anything after you’ve told him your  secret. Jill and Cid did the same thing. 

Barnabas shakes his head, summoning his sword, “I had enough of this nonsense. I will do this myself!” He lunged himself towards Clive to attack him. Jill and Cid jumped in and managed to blast him away from their dear friend. Clive got his sword out and began to attack him back. You’ve trembled down to the ground and watched in horror. “How does it feel to be kept in the dark, hm?” Barnabas wanted to know, smirking in amusement. “SHUT UP!” Clive spat, launching heavy attacks on his enemy. Jill joined but was quickly shot down when Barnabas knocked her out unconscious. Cid swiped in and swung his blade towards Barnabas, he also got knocked down by him. You couldn’t stand to watch anymore so you fled from the scene. Same thing happened to Torgal too when he tried to attack the dark king. 

“It’s not over, Barnabas!” Clive raged, pointing the tip of his blade towards him. Barnabas laughed devilishly, “We will settle this once and for all when the right time comes, Clive Rosfield. Until next time..” the dark king vanished into a cloud of darkness and headed back to his kingdom. 

Clive balled his hands in a rageful way, not knowing this would happen. He looked behind and noticed you weren’t there anymore. He found out that you ran away. Clive dropped his sword and started punching the ground with anger and rage. After being lied to by someone he thought he would trust...

....you

While hiding away out of sight, you watched Clive throwing punches towards the ground. He was still furious after what he had to experience, his eyes filled with pain and resentment. He told you all his secrets and the times he spend time with you; he wasn’t sure if it was real anymore, that he has to figure out himself. 

You shed more tears while watching Clive suffering. After that, you ran again, far away across the forest. You decided to not work for Barnabas anymore, you chose to keep your distance from Clive and his friends. You thought it would be better if you never seen them again...

(A/n) - I feel like I’ve rushed the ending of this and I do apologize ;-; It could be writer’s block or some shit. Welp, hope you all liked this..

@aria-lesage 

@kianaflame23

@tharmr-barnabas 

✨🖤✨

#final fantasy xvi #ffxvi #final fantasy 16 #ff16 #cliverosfield #clive rosfield #clive rosfield x reader #cliverosfieldxreader #final fantasy xvi x reader #jill warrick #torgal #cidolfus telamon #clive rosfield x you #barnabas tharmr

[victorluvsalice]

Happy Birthday Marie!

@offwithhxrhead You requested a story where Madeline meets someone who could potentially be a new romantic interest, and I hope I have delivered:

--

“WOOOOO!”

Madeline eagerly joined in the clapping and stomping of feet as The Pondcrossers finished up their set and departed from the stage. “Awesome show, huh?” a guy next to her said, eyes bright.

“You know it!” Madeline agreed with a beaming grin. “Best night out I’ve had in a while!” And I didn’t even need to get drunk or high off my ass to enjoy myself. Isn’t that a surprise.

“Oh, don’t start with that again,” the Queen of Hearts grumbled from a far corner of her mind. “I’m rather tired of that refrain.”

Yeah, yeah, sorry, Madeline thought back, shaking her head to dispel the negativity before it could take root. I know I’m doing a lot better these days. Been kind of a rough road to get here, sure, but – I’m out, I’m about, Mum and Dad trust me not to do anything stupid. That’s progress. She grinned back at the stage as the crowd began breaking up into smaller groups, friends chatting with friends. And that was a fucking great band! Why the hell they’re playing this place instead of living it up in Hollywood or – or Liverpool is beyond me.

“Liverpool?” the Queen asked, one eyebrow raised.

It was the first thing that came to mind! I don’t know the party towns of England! And asking Mum or Dad isn’t going to help, given the latter grew up in the ass end of nowhere and the former spent most of her life in a psychiatric hospital. Which you didn’t help with.

“Oh, shush and get us something to eat,” the Queen replied, rolling her eyes. “One gets peckish.”

Madeline’s stomach growled in answer. One does – might as well pick up a snack before we hit the road, she agreed, working her way toward the bar. If they serve food here, anyway...places like this always have peanuts or something, right? Eh, if they don’t, I’ll just swing past the nearest burger joint and –

Is that the bass guitarist?

Madeline stopped in her tracks. Perched on a stool at the very end of the bar was indeed The Pondcrossers’ second guitarist – Jean, if Madeline remembered correctly. Which she was pretty sure she did, as she’d spent a lot of the set watching Jean. The woman was exactly the type Madeline liked most – sporting wide hips, generous cleavage, long dark brown hair done up in a braid, and sparkling blue eyes. She’d handled her guitar like she’d been born with it in her hand, rocking in perfect beat with her bandmates and shooting the audience wide, come-hither grins every so often when the music allowed. Just the memory of that smile gave Madeline the shivers –

And now, she was almost within touching distance of the woman. Madeline stared at her, frozen. Holy shit, I didn’t realize...I mean, I guess it makes sense, singing like that is probably thirsty work, but...is it okay if I just – go up to her? I dunno if she’s cool with fans meeting her outside of sets or not...especially fans who might get a little...n-not that I’m gonna do anything but say I liked her music, but she is really fucking gorgeous and I’m on a dry spell and –

“And anyone who said your father’s influence in you is lacking should see you now.”

Cheshire appeared by her feet, winding around her ankles. “You seem stuck fast to the ground,” he observed with his trademark grin. “Purrhaps I should try to claw your feet up?”

“Loathe as I am to agree with that disrespectful creature, you should get moving,” the Queen of Hearts added, draping a tentacle over Madeline’s shoulders. “You are no mere pawn on the board – you are an ace in the pack. And you should act like it.”

Both of you be quiet before I start talking to you aloud! Madeline hissed, then bit her lip as she looked back at Jean. They did have a point – she was getting nowhere just standing there. In fact, she was probably starting to look a little bit creepy. And she did want to at least say “hi.” And tell her how awesome her band was. And if anything else happened...well, it happened. Madeline sucked in a steadying breath, then pried her feet off the floor and made her way over to the stool, trying to exude confidence. “Hi.”

Jean looked over. “Hi!” she said, all friendliness – that was one worry dispelled, at least. “Assuming you saw the show.”

“Yeah – you guys were amazing,” Madeline told her, smiling. “Best band I’ve heard in ages, trust me.” She offered a hand. “Madeline Van Dort.”

Jean took it, shooting her another dazzling smile. “Jean Carpenter. Pleasure to meet you.”

Madeline swallowed as their hands touched. Oh boy. Yup. Major crush. After one night. Gonna be hearing about this in Wonderland for months...worth it. “Pleasure is all mine.”

#happy birthday #offwithhxrhead #fanfic #madeline van dort #this should fit the brief you gave me I think! #I made it a point to write down what you said Madeline liked in a woman #and the fact that the band is called the Pondcrossers is supposed to hint they are British #because going from America to England and back is 'crossing the pond' get it? #at any rate here is a Jean for Madeline to get to know #I couldn't resist making her last name 'Carpenter' XD #just felt right you know? #but yes hopefully you like this! #hope things are going well for you! #queued

[twilightmalachite]

PORTRAIT - Ah, still delay—thou art so ■■■ 2

Author: Akira

Characters: Akiomi, Arashi

Translator: Mika Enstars

"He’s the number one children's model right now. After I defeat Akiomi, I’ll defeat him next."

[Read on my blog for the best viewing experience with Oi~ssu ♪]

Season: Winter

Location: Kid's Photography Studio

Around 10 minutes later…

Akiomi: (I wonder what that was about.)

(Those two—Sena-kun and Yuuki-kun, were clearly acting strange, but…)

(Sena-kun ended up threatening me, saying something about screaming that I did something weird to him if I didn’t listen to him—)

(My hand was forced and I ended up leading them to my secret resting spot I always use. I gave into the blackmail… I’m weak.)

(It’s over where the vending machines and sofas are.)

(The smoking area that was nearby was torn down it seems, so nobody goes over there anymore.)

(So… I’d go and rest there whenever I got tired of smiling and laughing all friendly with others, and the like, but…)

(What I’m more concerned about are those kids. Yuuki-kun didn’t seem to be feeling well, he looked completely out of it.)

(I asked Sena-kun if I could call his parents over since I’m sure they were somewhere, but he flat out refused.)

(“If you tell my parents, I’ll kill you”, he said.)

(Scary… Young kids these days will just jump to threatening to kill you…)

(…It’s a bit of a concerning attitude to have. At that age, your closest allies in the world are supposed to be your parents, they’re literally your guardians.)

(A-Are they being abused or something…? No, there couldn’t be any visible marks or anything of the sort…)

(If there were any marks like that, they wouldn’t be able to do work as a model.)

…What about you, do you know anything, Narukami-kun?

Arashi: …!

…Huh? What? I’m sorry, Mama and Papa said not to talk to strangers!

Akiomi: But I’m not a “stranger”, right? We’ve seen each other plenty of times at the same sites before—You’re always following me around, aren’t you?

You’ve been following me around all morning too.

Arashi: ……?

Akiomi: Huh? Wha? You have been following me, right? Or am I wrong?

Arashi: ‘Cause—

Akiomi’s my enemy.

Akiomi: Enemy…

Arashi: If I’m gonna defeat Akiomi, I gotta take away everything Akiomi has.

Akiomi: Huh.

Arashi: That is why I was watching you. Make sense?

Akiomi: I do get the idea, kinda.

Arashi: So you understand. As expected of Akiomi.

Akiomi: Because, in short, I’m your aspired “Sparkling Prince” Kunugi Akiomi, the most highly-regarded young model in the modeling industry these days, right?

Arashi: Aspired…?

Akiomi: If you wanna be like me, you should just say so! I’ll teach you anything you don’t know, all for my cute juniors!

Arashi: Cute…?

Akiomi: Yup. Same goes for Sena-kun and Yuuki-kun from earlier. Although we’re from different agencies, we’re still fellow models—

As your senior, I feel it’s my duty to protect and mentor you guys.

Arashi: I don’t know Sena, but I know Yuuki.

He’s the number one children's model right now. After I defeat Akiomi, I’ll defeat him next.

Akiomi: Why’s everything a battle to you?

Akiomi: (No, maybe Narukami-kun just doesn't have enough vocabulary. Their wording is a tad awkward.)

(Probably because they don’t communicate often with their parents or anyone else, Narukami-kun likely lacks the words for daily conversation—)

(Meaning they interpret and use the words they hear on TV or see in manga in their own way. So, that’s probably why what Narukami-kun says sounds so out of left field.)

(Maybe this kid just doesn't know how to articulate the feelings they’re feeling…)

(I guess the same goes for Sena-kun and Yuuki-kun, too. They’re still only just young boys.When I were those kids’ ages, I’m sure that I too—)

Arashi: Akiomi.

Akiomi: Ah, yes? What is it? I’m sorry, I was a little lost in thought.

More importantly… You know, you’re not supposed to call your onii-sans that are superior and that are older than you by their first names—

Arashi: —You should stay away from those kids.

Akiomi: ? You mean… Sena-kun, and Yuuki-kun?

Do you know about them, or something? Narukami-kun?

Arashi: I don’t know anything about them, but…

Mama told me so. She told me those kid’s parents are bad news.

[ ☆ ]

← prev | story directory | next →

#portrait #akiomi kunugi #arashi narukami #scout #translation

[eternityracha]

chapter two

“you are in love.. true love.”

— ꨄ —

CHAPTER THREE

“wake up, sleeping beauty.”

hyunjjn continued to tap your shoulder until you turned over and whined for him to go away.

“what is it-“

“your parents were calling you. you have work in an hour and they made you breakfast.”

you immediately sat up from your bed, your heart pounding as you realized that you had work with the yang family today.

“why didn’t you wake me up earlier?!”

hyunjin chuckled as he made the bed you created for him the previous evening before.

“i tried.” hyunjin shrugged his shoulders as he stood to the side, watching you pace back and forth in your bedroom.

while you were stressed about possibly missing work, you also realized that hyunjin was still in your bedroom.

“but what about you? i can’t leave you in my room all day.”

“i’m leaving, i’ll just go out the window.”

all you could’ve said was a simple yes, but you were worried about him. would he return home? will he keeping hiding?

why do i care so much?

hyunjin saw the worried look on your face and immediately reassured you.

“don’t worry. i’m going home. i had time to think about everything last night.“

you walked over to him, staring into his beautiful eyes as relief yet curiosity still was upon you.

“will you be okay?”

“I’ll be okay. avoiding my family more would only make things worse.”

before you could turn and finish with preparing your uniform, hyunjin smirked and pointed at you.

“you’re worried about me, aren’t you?”

feeling flustered, you denied his question.

“not at all, don’t get your hopes up.” you lied. you were worried about him.

hyunjin laughed, as he leaving to return home.

“don’t miss me too much, y/n.”

—

you were not in the mood to work today. your shift today was two hours longer than usual.

at the yang family’s household, you just finished preparing for the family and their guests.

sitting down at the table, you took a few minutes to have a break. it was very much needed.

suddenly, the yang family’s son, jeongin walks into the living room and admires your hard work of arranging everything in the household for their party tonight.

your family and the yang family have been close for the past three years. you were glad that you were able to be yourself around jeongin.

while with other families, you were extremely professional at all times.

“you should join us for the event today. you’ve worked hard.”

as much as you wanted to say yes, you declined the offer.

“thank you, but i am really tired today.”

“really? i’m sorry to hear that.”

jeongin pulled out a chair and sat next to you, as you asked about the party just to make your break longer.

“if i’m being honest, i’m not sure why my family is hosting another event. my father received a call from the hwang family.”

after mentioning the hwang family, you were fully paying attention.

“well.. do you know what your father talked about on the phone?”

“my, aren’t you a curious one? i don’t know much. all i know is my family and their family are gathering, since prince hyunjin returned home.”

so prince hyunjin really did go home.

you really wanted to see him again. you didn’t know when you would. maybe.. you should go to this party after all.

“actually, i think attending this party would be better instead of staying home. i’ll be there.”

jeongin smiled, clasping his hands together. “wonderful, i’m looking forward to it.”

with that being said, jeongin stood up from his seat and left the room.

as you continued to arrange some things in the household, you started questioning why you were so desperate to see prince hyunjin again.

why do i want to see prince hyunjin so badly?

and why can’t i stop thinking about him?

—

the party was full of more people in the household than you expected.

luckily, your home wasn’t so far away from the yang household, so you were able to change into something different.

you wore a long red dress with sparkles and a leg split.

you stood to the side while you watched people talk. you didn’t want to bother jeongin, since he was currently with his own company.

he introduced you to them earlier, but you declined the offer to spend time with them.

why did i come to this party?

you started walking in the hallway, walking towards the music room to hear the live piano.

before you could fully turn into the music room, you accidentally bump into someone.

“be careful there, princess.”

you looked up, seeing prince hyunjjn right in front of you. and his hair… was black!

he looked so handsome, wearing an all-black suit.

hyunjin wasn’t surprised to see you because jeongin told him that you would be here.

he was greeting guests, so he wasn’t able to try to find you immediately like he wanted.

“what.. are you doing here?” you asked, even though you knew why.

“i was invited. and what about you?”

you looked down, remembering that hyunjin had his hands on your waist a minute ago. he had caught you before you fully fell forward after accidentally bumping into you.

you cleared your throat, trying to shake off the thought.

“i was invited too.”

hyunjin wanted to talk to you somewhere else since it was very loud in the household. before he could ask you to go somewhere else, someone appears behind hyunjin.

“hyunjin, who is this?”

you froze, making an eye contact with a woman. he looks exactly like her. she must be his mother.

he stood next to you and smiled warmly.

“this is y/n. i’m planning on marrying her.”

— ꨄ —

author’s note

— the fake dating trope is happening 😉

— TAGS ☁️

@moon0fthenight @annybah @velvetmoonlght

if anyone else wants to be included in the taglist, please check the rules on my pinned!

#skz #stray kids fic #stray kids #bang chan #lee know #seo changbin #hwang hyunjin #han jisung #lee felix #kim seungmin #yang jeongin #skz imagines #skz fic #stray kids x reader #hyunjin x reader #skz au #stray kids x y/n #skz scenarios #hwang hyunjin x reader #stray kids au #skz x you #stray kids x you #skz x reader #skz x y/n #hyunjin x female reader #skz fanfic #stray kids hyunjin #hyunjin x y/n #skz x female reader #hyunjin x you

[kamilllaaaaa]

Milk Mustaches🥛

summary: you, a master of the mystic arts. wanda, your girlfriend.you guys have a last minute sleepover.

warnings: none i think.

word count:idk probably around some 300

It was a sleepover night.Except this time it wasn’t planned.you couldn’t sleep so you texted wanda.

“r u awake”

w: “no”

“🤨 come to my room?”

w: “going”

seconds later your door opens and wanda comes through the door. “so what has you awake?” she asked putting extra emphasis on “you”.

“hmm well, i stole a bag of sour patch kids from nats room earlier and i ate the whole bag.” you said while fixing your bed to welcome wanda on. “what about you? what’s got you up?” now you’re both sitting criss cross applesauce on your bed. “i don’t know.i just can’t seem to sleep” she lowered herself and laid her head on your interlaced legs.

“do you wanna watch something?” you asked while moving her soft strands of hair off her face, dragging your fingers across her forehead.

she grabbed your fingers and played with them for a moment. “sure”. you turned on your tv and opened netflix. “hey you can choose something to watch while i go to the kitchen to grab some warm milk” you said while gently lifting her head off your legs.you planted a kiss on her forehead and asked if she wanted anything.she didn’t.

you were back with your glass of milk and you found wanda perfectly situated on your bed,sitting up against a pillow.she had put her hair in a loose side braid while you were gone.

you slipped into bed. “ i was up thinking about us, y/n. that’s why i couldn’t sleep” wanda blurted out. “what’s wrong?” you asked both facing eachother now. “i love you so much y/n but i don’t wanna be a burden, or worse…hurt you one day on accident” your eyebrows furrowed in confusion and disagreement. “ i’ve lost people i loved and it’s taken a toll on me. and i still don’t have full control of my powers i could hurt yo-“

“no wanda.no.” you put your hand on the side of her face. “you will never be a burden to me. sure you’ll have bad days but i will always be there for you on those days” you interrupted. “ as for your powers you’ll have them down in no time” you moved your hand from the side of her face and grabbed her hands. she smiled lightly and you put one of her hands on your cheek and put your weight on it while smiling.you brought up her other hand and kissed her palm.

Wanda felt more loved then she’s felt in a while.looking into your eyes all she wanted and needed was you.all she wanted for you was to be safe and happy.she didn’t know what to say to you but for a moment you felt your mind fill with all of her thoughts, you heard everything she wanted to say to you at that moment.

Wandas favorite part from the movie she had picked was playing so you both instinctively looked over, ending the moment.seconds go by and she reaches over to you and grabs your glass of milk from your hands and gives u an innocent smile. you look over and see she has a tiny milk mustache. “i put a sleep spell on that by the way”

“i had assumed you did”

“yeah well you seem to have a little something here” you say while putting on a serious concentrated look on your face while looking at hers.

she takes her sleeve and quickly wipes off the milk above her top lip.

“oh? well would you look at that, you do too” she says while almost copying your serious concentrated expression you made.

“liar”

“no i’m totally serious” she says leaning in toward your face.

“riiiiiiighttttt here” she said right before her lips met yours.

you pulled away after a moment “did you get it?”

“yeah” she said with a big smile and a sparkle in her eyes.

she noticed you were tired.

“let’s get some sleep?”

“mhm” you tiredly nodded and shutoff the tv, getting situated in bed with the covers and right when your head hit the pillow you fell asleep.Wanda looked over and noticed you were already asleep.she admired you for a second and kissed you on your cheek.shortly after she fell asleep as well.

———————————————————————

also done at 3 am so pardon any grammar mistakes😃

#wanda x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda fanfic #wanda mcu #fanfic #mcu fic #mcu fandom #wanda x you

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Unexpected 32

Sequel to Unsolicited

Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, car sex, Lloyd being the worst, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Lloyd Hansen is a storm. You can’t stop him, you can only brace yourself for the eventual rain of his presence. For the time being, he is calm and you will let it last as long as you can. But you will keep the windows boarded and the doors shut tight.

His bruises are a pale tint of yellow though he was just as reluctant to leave the bed. You are not more eager to be awake and on your feet but you know you must. You find it harder by the day to stay active but if you slow down, the pain will catch up to you. 

So you follow him, after ten minutes of internal turmoil, strapping on your pregnancy belt over a tee and some leggings. Your usual attire as it’s the only thing that fits or offers a degree of comfort for your growing body. You smell cinnamon as you descend, leaning on the banister heavily as you take careful steps, barely able to see your feet past your stomach.

You follow your nose to the kitchen and find Lloyd in a whirlwind, but not his usual tempest. He flips a pancake in the skillet as he looks over his shoulder, a crooked grin under his mustache. He still hasn’t shaved. Is it a new look or neglect? The stubble is getting pretty long.

He wears an apron over his briefs. Nothing else. Not very safe but you don’t mind if he gets a spatter of hot oil. You almost wish you could throw some on him yourself.

“I made decaf,” he announces proudly, “and I have blueberry syrup for you, baby cakes.”

“Blueberry syrup?” You squint as you near the counter, brushing a hand over the curve of your stomach.

“That was a you thing, wasn’t it?”

“A me thing? What are we talking about?”

He uses the spatula to remove the pancakes from the pan and puts them onto a plate, covering them to keep them warm. He sets down the utensil and moves easily to pull down a mug and fills it from the carafe.

“You had some in the crappy old fridge back at the hellhole,” he shrugs, “hidden behind the ketchup.”

You bite the inside of your lip and tilt your head. How did he know that? Besides, why would he even remember that? An overpriced bottle of organic syrup that had Colin halfway down your throat.

“I guess,” you answer nonchalantly, “I don’t mind it.”

“Hm, sure,” he seems disappointed by your lack of enthusiasm, “icing sugar too, if you like.”

“I’ll just have the pancakes,” you accept the mug as he slides it over to you, “thanks.”

He faces you, watching you as you watch him. Your eyelids slit as you warily sip your coffee. His blue irises sparkle menacingly.

“Stop,” he says, “why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?” You utter dully.

“Like I put poison in the decaf.”

You pause and pull the cup away from your lips. You give it a long look. Now that you think of it…

“I didn’t,” he huffs, “I can be nice. I’m being nice. Baby,” he puts his hands on his hips, “you gotta let go of old grudges. Once the kiddo is here, we can’t be fighting like cats and dogs. We’re going to be too tired.”

“We’re?” You scoff and carry your cup past him, “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“What?”

“You. Doing anything for anyone else. That has no benefit to you.”

“I’m making you breakfast–”

“You’re getting on my good side so I don’t try to sleep on the lawn again,” you roll your eyes, “and so I don’t smack you every time you touch my ass.”

“Peaches, you’ll see, I’m taking this serious. I’m gonna dad so hard–”

“Mmhmm,” you wave him off without looking back, “and I’m gonna go water the tulips.”

“Tulips? What about breakfast?” He whines.

“It won’t take too long,” you dismiss him, “it’s nice out and I’ll forget.”

He exhales heavily, “since when do you garden?”

“There’s a lot more to me than the contents of my fridge, Lloyd,” you toss back at him as you approach the back door, “some of us have dimension.”

“What? I have–”

You don’t hear his argument. He’s about as dimensional as those pancakes. Flat. Just a mustache that talks too much. Even if he uses that mustache to your advantage. You know him. He pretends to be complicated but he’s really rather simple. Maybe his complexity is that he’s simple in more ways than one.

You balance your coffee tenuously as you go down the back steps. You near the corner of the house and unwind the long house from around the plastic wheel. Harlen installed it while he was there. You take the head with the trigger and tug it around the east wall with one hand. Your progress is slow as you try not to spill the decaf.

You stand before your little plot of blooming stems and aim the hose, pushing down as you sprinkle water over the dirt. You should do some weeding but it’s getting harder and harder to get down that low. Even before you were this big, your back could make bending, squatting, or kneeling a task.

You turn the hose head back and forth, sending an even shower across the patch. Content, you let go of the trigger and gulp back more coffee. You’re going to miss the peace you found in the garden now Lloyd is back. You were ready to let it go for the baby, but you really weren’t prepared to do so this soon.

Footsteps hit the pavement on the other side of the gate and you peek over. You narrow your eyes. You should get those checked. You recognise the figure on the other side as he stops and waves.

You let the hose hang off the iron rooster ornament sticking out of the soil and waddle to the path. You follow it down to meet Andy at the iron grate. You’re slightly confused but don’t mind wasting time.

“Hey, what’s going on?”

“Just out for a run,” he says, cheeks slightly tinged pink as he catches his breath, “I saw you out here and figured I’d ask.”

“Ask?”

“You know, I got some of Lori’s things still, thought maybe you might want some. I’ve been meaning to do something with them but I haven’t made up my mind.”

“Lori? Your wife?” You’re slightly taken aback. You’re not really in the market for a dead woman’s earrings.

“It’s only taking up space. I’d be happy to know they went to a good home.”

“Mm, I don’t know, there’s not much I need…” you shrug but notice the way he stares, expectant, hopeful. It might not be about the stuff, maybe just about the company. You can’t say you aren’t lacking for that as well. “Well, I guess I could have a look through, see if there’s anything I’m missing.”

“Great, I can bring a box over later,” he offers, “tonight or tomorrow, if you’re not busy.”

“I…” you glance back at the house, “we’ll have to see.”

“Yeah, you must be busy,” he wipes his glistening forehead, “getting ready for the baby. Well, you know where I am. You can always come knock on my door.”

“Thanks, Andy, that’s… very nice of you.”

You force a smile. You never really were a neighbourly person. Mostly, you’ve lived next to people even more miserable than yourself. Those who can only afford shitholes don’t typically tend to be optimistic.

“So, you didn’t say if it’s a boy or a girl. Do you know?” He prompts.

“Uh, oh,” you look down at your stomach, “a girl.”

“Wow, I always wanted a girl. Jacob was a good kid but… maybe he wouldn’t have gotten in so much trouble if he had a sibling or two.” His cheek tightens and he turns his head slightly, “Lori couldn’t, you know? She just had him. Her body just couldn’t handle any more than that.”

“I’m sorry, Andy–”

“I told you, don’t be,” he shakes his head, meeting your eyes, “I should be sorry. I try not to talk about them but I can’t help it.”

“You have every right to talk about them. We can’t help who we miss,” you assure him, “hell, sometimes I miss my ex-husband.”

“Ex? Lloyd’s–”

“Number two,” you sigh, “yeah.”

“Hmm, interesting.”

“Is it?”

“Oh, yeah, he’s not really the type to settle for being the second choice.”

You nod. He’s right but he also has no idea about how fucked Lloyd really is.

“It’s complicated,” you say, “anyway,” you look into your nearly empty cup, “I think I should go back before breakfast gets cold.”

“Sure thing, neighbour,” he grins and for a moment, you hesitate. Beneath his thick beard, there’s an odd reminder in the cut of his jaw, you’re reminded of Lloyd’s overgrown stubble, “you need any help with that garden, let me know. I’ve got a bit of a green thumb.”

“Will do,” you say as you raise your mug awkwardly and turn on your heel, “see ya.”

You set off back towards the house. The door is open as your husband stands watching you. Even from a distance, you sense his impatience. It’s in his posture and his steady gaze. You can’t handle an argument over cold pancakes. Not with only decaf to bolster you.

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #unexpected #dark drabble #dark!drabble #drabble #series #the gray man

[the-void-writes]

Freaks of Preston Snippet

I might regret this later, but right now my lungs hurt and I just want to share more of the first chapter for Dad-Jason content. @bloodlessheirbyjacques @muddshadow You can ignore this, I just thought that I’d share some writing that actually ends happily.

Context: This is Jason and Will’s first meeting. Jason just scared the crap out of a bunch of school kids who broke some of Will’s stuff while trying to beat him up (for their fathers’ approval, but that’s another matter). Will is scared because his powers went off on their own while the kids were antagonizing him, but Jason promises that he won’t get him in trouble. Will realizes that Jason is a friend of his mother’s, and asks if he’ll help him walk home in case the kids try to hurt him again. Jason agrees, despite his obvious discomfort with being outside, because he wants to make sure Will makes it back to his mother.

With a renewed skip in his step, Will led Jason through the neighborhood towards his house. Jason kept his defensive stance as he glanced around the houses. Despite not being the target, it seemed like Jason was more on-edge than Will. On their way up Cedar Hill, Will turned his broken pendant over in his hand. Jason sighed harshly.

“Such heartless kids.”

Will shrugged slightly, weighed down by his cast. “I just hope Mom can help me fix it, if she has time.”

“May I see it? I won’t drop it, I promise.”

Carefully, Will handed it over. Jason stared at the pendant, smiling to himself as he traced the shape of the deformed moon.

“Such a beautiful color,” he said. “Where did you find it?”

“The pottery shop was holding classes.”

Jason blinked in surprise. “You made this?”

“Both of them,” Will said shyly.

“Will, they’re incredible.”

Will perked up, his deep blue eyes sparkling with joy. “You really mean that?”

“Yes, of course! You have good craftsmanship.”

“Thank you,” Will said, beaming with delight.

“I’ve always wanted to try sculpting. Is it hard?”

“A little, especially with the kiln. I burnt my hand, but the rest of it was fun.”

Jason snickered, but quickly stopped. “I am— so sorry. I’ve burnt my hand on the stove countless times, so I know how you feel.”

Will giggled. “Don’t worry, it was kind of funny. They gave Mom a free bowl.”

“Ah, what a prize.” Jason gave the pendant back to Will. “Well, since it’s clay, you can use some epoxy to seal it together.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle at Will’s befuddled expression.

“It’s like super-super glue.”

“Where can I find it?” Will asked.

“The hardware store has tons of it. I used to buy a lot back in the day. Our—” He closed his eyes. “My garden had these little ceramic gnomes. They’re more glue than gnome, now, thanks to all the repairs.”

“I didn’t see any of them in your yard. Where did they go?”

“I got tired of fixing them.”

Jason stared down at his feet, saddened by the mere mention of the garden. More family stuff, Will thought. He desperately tried to brighten the mood.

“Well, maybe we can take them off your hands? My sister loves lawn gnomes.”

“Does she?”

“Yeah, she and our friend, Alvie, built their own gnome towns. They’re at war with each other.”

To Will’s surprise, and absolute delight, Jason laughed out loud. It didn’t match his timid exterior, at all. There was joy to it, and slight hysteria, but nothing too bad. Will started laughing with him, until Jason winced and rubbed his throat. The boy stared up at him worriedly.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, I just— Well, this is the most I’ve ever spoken in a while.”

“Why?”

“It’s a very long story. Let’s just say I don’t have too many friends anymore.”

Will frowned in sympathy. “Oh, that’s okay, I don’t have many, either. Jeremy’s not the only one who wants me gone.”

Jason looked down at him with an odd expression. Will was used to anger and disgust from other people, but this was neither. The look on his face was pure heartbreak.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said softly.

“It’s not your fault.” Will smiled at him. “Besides, you chased him off for me. I never thought I would hear him scream like that.”

Jason picked up a strand of his unruly red hair. “Sometimes, it pays to look like you’re wearing a monster on your head.”

Will snickered. “You’re not that scary.”

“Well, that just proves you’re far braver than those kids.”

Will smiled as a tiny bit of confidence flickered within him. As they discussed plans for the lawn-gnome-army, they finally reached Will’s house. It was a nice shade of pink that didn’t immediately hurt the eyes, and sure enough, a few lawn gnomes hid among the bushes. Mary stood in the front yard, looking around frantically. When she spotted Will, she gasped and ran to hug him.

“There you are, sweetie,” she said. “I was starting to get worried.”

Will squeezed her tightly. “I’m sorry, Mom.”

“You don’t have to apologize, dear. I just thought that—”

Mary finally noticed Jason standing next to them. She beamed and stood up to shake his hand.

“Jason, hey! It’s been forever! What brings you here?”

“He saved my life, Mom!” Will chimed in. “Jeremy was gonna beat me up, but Jason scared him off. He’s a hero!”

Jason shrunk into his shoulders. “I wouldn’t say that.”

“Oh, don’t be modest,” Mary said. “You are a hero. Thank you for bringing Will home.”

Jason smiled, unable to refute her point. “Of course, Mary. It’s no problem.”

Mary looked down and ruffled Will’s hair. “Will, sweetie, why don’t you go inside? I’ll be in shortly.”

Will nodded his head and ran towards his house. When he reached the door, he spun back around and waved.

“Bye, Jason!”

Jason smiled. “Have a good evening, Will.”

Will giggled and rushed inside. Jason and Mary watched him through the window as he charged into the living room, talking excitedly to his sisters. He waved his arm around dramatically, as if he were acting out a play. Jason couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

“I think you’re his idol, now,” Marisol said.

Jason huffed. “Ah, yes, the hermit down the street.”

“You’re not a hermit, Jay.”

“When was the last time we spoke in person?”

Mary shook her head. “You can’t blame yourself for that. You needed time to heal.”

Jason stared down at the ground. “Still…”

“Besides, you saved my son. I’ll call it even.”

“How often do those kids target him?”

“Almost every day. I can’t reason with their parents, either. Most of them think Will deserves this for Isaiah’s arrest.”

Jason felt his heart break. He had heard them that night, when they took Isaiah away. After everything that man had said and done, how could anyone blame Will? Mary placed a hand on Jason’s shoulder, and he tensed at the touch, but not enough for her to notice.

“How have you been?” she asked.

“I’ve been fine, thank you. Just going through paperwork. How are you holding up?”

“Eh, I’m getting better. I’ve been talking with some of the parks and rec people, and they want to offer me a landscaping position.”

Jason smiled. “That’s wonderful, Mary. I’m so happy for you.”

“Thank you…”

Mary looked down at the grass, hiding her eyes behind her brown curls. Jason leaned forward a little to find her gaze again.

“You seem troubled,” he said.

“I just— I have no idea what I’m gonna do with the kids. The after-school center is closing sooner than I thought it would. I could hire a sitter, but there aren’t a lot of options around here… I don’t know, I might have to decline the position. It just would have been nice to make my own money, instead of relying on Isaiah’s support checks.”

Jason could see the distress in her eyes. She needed this job desperately. He glanced back through the window at the kids, smiling and laughing. Will had looked so utterly defeated earlier. If that was what he went through on a regular basis, Jason knew he wouldn’t last much longer, especially if his mother couldn’t make her own living. It may have been too forward, but he wanted to help them, to make sure the town didn’t hurt that kid anymore than they already had. Besides, this sweet little family radiated a warmth that had been missing in Jason’s life for so long, the warmth of a home that he never got to have.

“You don’t have to give up the job,” Jason said.

“But what about—”

“I can watch over the kids.”

Mary stared at him. “You can?”

“I mean, only if that’s okay with you.”

“Yes, of course, but you have a life. I can’t ask you to drop everything just to help me.”

“Mary, please, it’s the least I can do. You helped me after Phil—” Jason bit his tongue, unable to finish the thought. “I know how awful these people can be. If I can help your family get by, the way you helped me, it would just give me some peace of mind. I don’t want them to hurt your son.”

Mary wiped a stray tear from her eye and smiled. “Thank you so much, Jay. I promise, I’ll find a way to pay you for it.”

“You don’t need to go overboard, Mary. I’m fine with whatever you can afford. If that happens to be nothing, then I’m happy to work for free.”

“… God, you’re too kind.”

She hugged him tightly. The contact was surprising, and perhaps a little uncomfortable, but he wasn’t about to tell her that. She pulled away, grabbed his shoulders, and shook him slightly.

“Hey, you should stay and hang out with us! You don’t have any dinner plans tonight, do you?”

“Not really, but I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“You’re a friend, Jason. Our home is always open to you. You don’t have to be alone.”

Jason pondered her words. It had been a long time since he had hung out with friends. In fact, this was the longest he had been out of his house in weeks. Perhaps a little dinner wouldn’t hurt.

“Thank you, Mary,” he said. “I’d love to join you guys.”

Mary grinned and pulled him through the front door. It was the first time Jason had actually been in her house. Back in the day, their main hangout place was Jason’s porch. She would come over while her kids were at a friend’s house, and Phil would make drinks for everyone. He was always a good host… Jason shook those thoughts out of his head and looked around the house.

It was small, but very charming. The walls were a mellower shade of pink than the house’s exterior, messily decorated with pictures of the Shapiro family; Mary, her three children, and a tired-looking man: Isaiah Shapiro. Jason hadn’t actually met him in person, and after hearing him that night, he was glad that he hadn’t. Will was a very brave child for putting up with him, and for revealing himself the way that he did. Jason wished he had that strength.

He followed the pictures into the living room, where the children were sitting. Will spotted him, and his face lit up with excitement.

“Jason!” He waved him over to the couch. “These are my sisters. This is Lydia, and that’s Maddie.”

Lydia waved happily from the couch with a crayon in her tiny hand. She had curly brown hair, just like her mother, and sparkly red glasses. Maddie sat beside her, a tiny child with hair as golden as her brother’s, and the brown eyes of her father. She chewed on a plastic baguette and squealed incomprehensibly at Jason. He jumped at her unexpected greeting.

“Is she okay?”

Will nodded. “That means she likes you.”

Jason chuckled. Lydia crawled over to the armrest with a curious smile.

“Did you make those boys cry?” she asked.

“Not really,” Jason said. “I’ve been told I’m not that scary.”

“But did they scream?”

“Oh, definitely, like a pack of frightened birds.”

Lydia cackled and pounded her fist on the couch. “I’m telling everyone in school about this!”

Jason smiled. These children were wacky, but in an endearing sort of way. It was a relief to know that they were doing okay after their father’s arrest. Jason felt someone tug on his shirt and looked down. Will watched him curiously.

“What were you talking about out there?” he asked.

“Oh, uh… Well, I’m going to be looking after you three while your mother is working, if that’s okay with you.”

Will waved his fist excitedly. “That’s perfect! Maybe we can look through your old gnomes now.”

Lydia perked up. “Yes, more for the army! Alvie’s going to eat dirt!”

Jason chuckled. “Wow, you weren’t kidding about the gnomes.”

“They’ve got a whole story planned out, too,” Will said.

“A story?”

Lydia stood up on the couch and posed dramatically. “Two kingdoms, Daisyville and Rosington, fighting for the title of Gnome Supreme! One will succeed, and the other shall burn in the fiery pits of—”

“Lydia!” Mary called out from the kitchen. “Be careful with your words.”

“It’s called Gnome Prison, Mom! I know what I’m doing!”

Jason had to bite his fist to keep from laughing. He loved these kids already. Suddenly, the wondrous smell of garlic and various spices entered the living room. Lydia caught a whiff of it and gasped.

“Is that the chicken?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Mary said in a sweet, sing-songy voice. “Do you want to help bake the cobbler?”

“Peach?”

“You know it.”

In a flash, Lydia hopped down and ran for the kitchen.

“I’ll tell you the rest after dinner, Jason!” she yelled.

As she disappeared through the dining room, Maddie shimmied off of the couch. Jason and Will watched as she slowly wobbled towards the kitchen, still chewing on her toy. She stopped by Jason, squawked at him, and continued her journey. Jason turned to Will and laughed.

“Is it always like this around here?”

“Just until they’re used to you.”

“Ah, I see.”

Jason’s eyes fell on the broken moon piece that still hung around Will’s neck. He smiled and knelt down beside him.

“Hey, since I’m looking after you guys now, I could try and fix your necklace for you.”

Will bounced on his toes. “You could?”

“It might not be perfect, but it’ll be in one piece again.”

“That would be great, thank you!”

Jason smiled. “No problem.”

A loud bit of Maddie-babble echoed from the kitchen, followed by laughter. The addition of the cooking bread made the house smell even better. Jason stood and gestured to where the girls had run off.

“Should we go help them?”

“Sure!”

Will reached his hand out, and Jason took it without hesitation, smiling as he allowed his tiny hand to tug him along. Stepping out of his house may have been absolutely nerve-wracking, but after seeing where it had led him, Jason decided it was the best decision he had ever made. He was having dinner with friends again, talking and joking and laughing like the good old days. In the span of a few minutes, Will Shapiro had already changed his life.

And without even realizing it, Jason had changed Will’s life, too.

#writeblr #writing community #wip: freaks of preston #chapter snippet

[atypicalacademic]

Envoy

Blood Moon from @barbwritesstuff

4 u @ollifree , the Olli to my Mahim

*

“...You sure about this?” Olli sighed at the silence that followed, wondering why, exactly, she thought Mahim would respond over the din of whatever he seemed to be humming along to. It explained why she’d walked into the living room to find Ed upside down over the couch, giving her a look that was part lost and part exasperated, mouthing he’s still in there, and making no further move. Mahim’s eyes were still trained on the full-length mirror he alone had managed to secure for the pack, his music turned up so loud that Olli could feel the headache it was bound to give him. He only ventured this close to ear damage when he was upset, or trying in vain to drown out the moon. Or both.

Clicking her tongue, Olli crossed the small room in a stride, sidestepping the mess of discarded outfits she knew he’d agonize over, later, and yanked a side of his earphones off.

“Ow!”

“Hi.” Olli reiterated, over the radio hum of what seemed to be 80s bollywood.

Mahim’s scowl fell away in an instant. “Alpha, I didn’t see you there.”

“I asked, thrice, by the way, if you’re sure about this.”

“Oh,” He shuffled, threading a strand of his black hair around a finger, then letting it go. “I am. I’d tell you if I weren’t.”

Olli eyed him, then shrugged, and settled down at the edge of his bed. Smiling at her, Mahim went back to fluffing up his hair so that the curly dark ringlets shone almost obsidian beneath the light. Cut low at the neck, his shirt was a pale, sparkling yellow that contrasted with his beaded shawl splashed with many colours. He swept a line of gloss over his lips, before gathering up his hair again. “Leave it down, or up?”

Olli blinked. “You’re...going to meet the hunter. Dressed like that.”

“Down, I think.” Mahim let his hair fall in a curtain of curls down to his lower back. “And of course I am!” He began to curl his long lashes around a stick of mascara. “I’m your envoy, Alpha. Your ambassador, your peacekeeper. I need to look presentable.”

She snorted, preparing to respond with a jest before the words rang oddly in her chest, picking at an instinct older than Alpha, older than this hell of a week, something born of the months between then and now, this knowing when Mahim’s cheer veered to a touch too deliberate, put-upon as the lotion he scrubbed beneath his eyes to will away weeks’ worth of dark circles and tired tears. There was a scar he hid beneath his hair, a clean, clinical cut from the nape of his neck, down his back, silver and faded.

Where’s that from? She’d asked, what felt like a million years ago, in a world where she hadn’t known Mahim better than she knew her own heart.

Hunters. He’d replied, and refused to elaborate. He didn’t need to, but there was more, Olli knew, more a secret he kept from even her, a hurt he cradled so privately that she wanted, sometimes, nothing more than to protectprotectprotect him what she couldn’t even see.

And so she said, “You don’t have to be. You don’t have to force yourself into anything-”

“What, and Ed does? And you do?”

“Mahim.”

He turned to her, finally, the walls falling from behind his kohl-rimmed eyes. Overbright. Shit. “Let me do what I can, Alpha.”

She thought of napkins folded neatly over newly-polished tables, of clumps of daisies picked from the wayside, hewn into Izzie’s hair, of the relentless peacepeacepeace in his faint, coal-and-earth-and-wolf scent. She thought of waking up on Tuesday to find him scrubbing the kitchen counter till he could see his own face in it, of him gathering JiAn into his arms, after a long, shuddering spell of silence, to turn the speakers on again.

Please wove wordlessly around her again, lingering at the edges of his hurt silence.

“You’re already doing a lot.” She told him. “You don’t need to put yourself through playing nice with a fucking Hunter for it.”

He looked away, abruptly. “’m not playing nice.” He mumbled. “And it’s not just for Blackwell, either. We need people on our side, debt or friendship, if we’re gonna live here. If we don’t- we-” He swallowed. “It’s not more than I can handle, Olli, I promise.”

There was that, too. The we need people on our side. The twenty-one times she’d counted him practicing hello, hello, hello before he’d said it.

Mess. The mess of it all that Olli kept sharpened beneath her claws into flintstones that sparked both her humor and her rage, Mahim folded into sixteenths he tucked inwards like a handkerchief, its surface polished smooth into home, and love, and pride, into rebuilding the bare bones of everything he hated so he could watch it shine in the mirror, a halo around himself, into we need people on our side.

The thing was, the thing really was, he wasn’t even wrong. He wasn’t, not most of the time.

“I just-” Olli let her voice taper away into uncertainity for the first time since she’d assumed her title. “You’ve got a choice, okay? With all of us.”

lovelovelovelove.

“Thank you, Alpha.” He said softly, light sealing the fault lines of doubt between them. “If there’s a chance for peace to be found in all this, you know.”

Olli ran her hand up a sunflower-patterned pillow, frowning. “Yeah.”

“He’s not those hunters.” Mahim went on. “I can tell. I know the eyes the others have.”

Olli neither agreed nor disagreed, nor did she think that Lee’s intentions mattered as much as Mahim’s comfort did, nor did she like that he knew how to tell the difference, how he had to learn to tell the difference.

“And if he isn’t-”

“I rip his fucking heart out.”

There was the wolf, the hint of a growl, the golden flash in his eyes. It was gone before Olli could blink, beaten back into sweet-soft and gentle like he always did. If shit went south, Olli remembered, that hunter was coming out in pieces.

She let out a breath. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Mahim was smiling again, admiring his own handiwork in the mirror. Absently, he drummed his fingers over his collar, over the tattoo peeking from behind fabric.

Olli was a stranger to the language, but not to the name. Janaki. A simple line of numbers Mahim still knew by heart, saved still in his phone, as Ma. It took that frantic, little gesture of his, that absent minded search for his mother, for Olli to remember why she’d come here in the first place.

“Mahim,” She got to her feet and opened her arms. “Come here.”

He did.

Mahim, worker of miracles, talker of birds out of trees, fairytale prince among wolves. He could wring a hunter’s heart for it’s last dew-drop of sympathy. He could wash cuffs and collars, sheets and pillowcases clean of the last bloodstains of grief. He could hold her hand when it was the last thing she cared for, stitch the guilt out of her one little nudge at a time. He could waltz into lives and live there. He could hunt, more vicious than any wolf save Olli herself, and cast it away as easy as it were a coat. He could drown the moon out with music. Or at least pretend to. He could weep all night and shine golden in the morning. He could face the worst of his fears with a smile that reached his eyes. He could tell her, quietly, firmly, that he trusted noone better with the pack, and he could make anyone, even herself, believe it.

But he couldn’t, he couldn’t hide from her.

One half of my heart. He’d called her. The storm to his calm, the twin to his soul, his anchor within this family where everyone belonged to each other and to noone at all.

She felt his shoulders relax the instant her arms were around him, and her own with it, so used to dismissing the weight of all she carried upon them.

Safesafesafesafe.

homehomehome.

Mahim pulled away from the hug, leaned down to kiss her cheek. “Thank you, Alpha. I’ll bring flowers home.”

Olli smiled. “I know.”

#blood moon #mahim #hap borth olli! #uwu

[hruvhi]

New Year, New Dream?

You know what, dreams are weird. Yesterday, it’s New Year and I set my alarm clock to 12 AM so I can light some fireworks and eat some desserts but I didn’t wake up! My sister told me the fireworks was too loud so it’s surprising how I was able to sleep like a bear. Anyway, I had a dream that night. It’s actually vague, I only remember some parts. I was lighting a sparkles or idk what it’s called but it’s fireworks. I gave one to a little kid called Gabriel. It’s really weird! He’s apparently my son! I don’t remember his face but he’s kinda chubby, lol it’s probably my genes gosh why would I name my child Gabriel? That’s so not creative. If I’m going to have one at least let me name him Lelouch, Light, or Levi sounds great too! I like names that starts with L so I won’t name my child Gabriel, like hello? That’s too common! Anyway, I gave Gabriel a sparkle and I told him to make a wish and he said he wants a swimming pool. Ugh, kids 😒 Then a guy showed up from somewhere and he told Gabriel that our house is too small for a swimming pool so we should buy a bigger house. Excuse me? Do you have money? Houses are so expensive! Apparently, he’s my husband in that dream. I don’t remember his face but he speaks gently. He’s the total opposite of me! He’s so…uhm, elegant? I mean, compared to my personality which is quite strong and reckless, he’s like a saint. Why would someone like that marry me? It’s weird. When I look at them playing and laughing I feel…happy? Contented? Satisfied? Something similar to that. Plus I never brought up divorce haha or did I? I feel like I’m the type to ask for a divorce after like, 10 days of marriage because I don’t feel like being a wife. Then the three of us drove to a grocery store and bought ice cream then we stayed in something like a well-lit empty playground at our subdivision and ate ice cream there and my husband and son did something like a competition around the playground until Gabriel was too tired and he fell asleep. My husband carried him. He was sitting at the bottom of the slide while I was in the swing. I asked him what he wished for, then he told me nothing, or maybe for Gabriel to grow up healthy and happy. Then he asked me what my wish was earlier, then I told him nothing too. I said I’m satisfied with my boys and we both laugh. And I look like a housewife in that dream! Noooooo! That’s not my ideal life huhu I want to be a lawyer and a doctor! I even prayed for it last Sunday and ask God to help me make my dreams come true! Being a mom and a wife is not really my thing, I’m the YOLO type of person. I want to be successful and powerful and just travel the world! I don’t know why I feel at peace in that dream, and it feels light. I want to stay by that person’s side for a long time. I want to support him even if I don’t really remember his face. How should I describe that feeling? Hmm, it’s like I care about him. It’s love, but not the butterfly in my tummy or heart beating fast type of love. It’s like…the stable type. It’s constant, a constant feeling. I feel like even if he’s not around or he’s far away I will feel the same way. I don’t really like the concept of family, to be clear I don’t want to make a family so I don’t get why I feel that way in my dreams. Plus, that kind of guy? Surely, he doesn’t exist in this world. He’s gentle and humble and soft-spoken. I feel like I don’t deserve people like that, I’m too hurt and I don’t want to share this pain with others. I just want to be alone. I can be happy even when I’m alone. Plus my dream is to be successful and powerful so I should focus on that.

[mirrorballtales]

It’s been a really long time since I’ve been honest. With myself. With anyone. I think I have an internal filter, my conscience being my personal PR manager, telling me that if I say too much, if I take one more step, if I drive one more mile, if I shed one more tear, if I really say what I feel they won’t love me. If I let them see how damaged I am inside, they won’t love me. And I don’t know if I can handle that. I don’t think I could. If I knew they found how badly torn I am inside, they won’t want me anymore.

Sometimes I just think it’s okay if I go. I’m at peace with it. It’s like this darkness won’t let up. It’s relentless in its quest to consume me. Everything I do to fight it is met with a resistance I can’t keep fighting anymore.

I’ve never felt more alone in my life. I’ve created a bubble, isolated myself, driven everyone away because I’m so afraid no one will want me to stay with them. No one will miss me. No one will ask me to stay and I can’t handle it. I can’t take it. I can’t do this alone anymore. I am so tired of being strong and holding it all inside. I’m tired of waiting for me to forget it ever happened. I’m tired of waiting to not throw up whenever I smell a cologne that resembles his. I’m tired of wanting to be seen as a women and feeling like I don’t get to have that because they ripped everything from me. They didn’t care that I’d live with their handprints all over me.

Sometimes I think I’m okay. Sometimes I think I forgot what their eyes looked like, I forgot what their hands felt like, I forgot what it felt like to not breathe, sometimes I think I forgot what their voice sounded like, or what clothes I was wearing, or how sore my muscles were the next day, sometimes I forget the position my bruises were in. Sometimes I forget their names. And sometimes I think I’m healed. Then I see someone on tv that looks like them, or someone without thought wore the cologne he did too, or someone says a phrase they used to say, or they wear their hair like one of them did, or they have his name and I hide like a child, under my covers. And I get so angry. They get to live their lives. Happily. They get to go out and not give me a second thought. Their life didn’t stop. They don’t live in a loud silence. They don’t wake up in the middle of the night thinking it’s happening. They don’t drive others away. They don’t burst into tears when they shower and see the ugly scar they left me with. They don’t have to explain to anyone why it’s there. They don’t have a picture of their 13 year old self wondering if they could have done more to save her.

Every day I fight to find a reason to stay. Every day I tell myself I need to stay so I don’t hurt others but no one has begged me to stay. No one has made sure I’m breathing. No one has turned on every light I’ve turned off. And I think it’s because there’s no reason to want me here anymore. Sometimes I think that’s the day I’ll find peace. When I go to a leep into an eternal respite.

Maybe I’m asking too much of this earth. But I’ve asked for nothing. And received hell in return. I think I’d like a hug. I think I’d like for someone to just tell me they need me to stay. Unconditionally.

But I think that’s like wishing on a shooting star that isn’t there. Like walking to the gardens of Babylon that don’t exist.

I’m really tired. I don’t want to do this alone anymore. There is no reason.

In another life, in another time maybe my soul would have been worth fighting for. I wouldn’t have to apologize for being alive. But I’m really tired and I just want to go.

I wish the world saw all the love and light inside of me. That I too want to give it away. Freely. That I want the sunrise to caress my cheeks, and I want the wind to envelop me in her fury, the rain to make me clean, the night with its starry sky sparkling thru my eyes. And to scream that I survived. To scream that I’m alive. To scream that they didn’t win. And I want the world to scream that they love me back. To hold my hand and beg me to stay.

And I’m sorry for that too.