#it's so much more sad than it first seems

[luveline]

JADEEEE i'd love to see an interaction between hotch and teacher!reader outside of school? maybe jack sees her first and step away from hotch for a moment to say hi, hotch gets scared when he realizes jack left but reader comes with him just a moment later because she's panicking too like 'why are you alone? where's your dad?' and jack takes her to him. is that ok??? i hope so! love you <3333

I love you ty for your request! —Hotch flirts with Jack’s favourite teacher, because he’s never as subtle as he should be. fem, 2k

Jack reads a couple of books a week now his dad is home more often. His mom used to read to him some because he loves them, but she preferred to tell her own on the fly. His dad isn’t as good a story teller, and when he does try the stories don’t end up very happy, so they read. Sometimes two or three books a night if they're short ones. 

With Jack’s library card they can borrow ten books. With his dad’s, another ten. Twenty altogether, enough to last the month if they’re careful or if dad gets called away a lot, which he usually does. 

“Can I look for Super Pup?” Jack asks his dad. 

Aaron sits on a chair a little too small for him in the kids section. “What?” he asks, looking up from the back of the large picture book Jack’s just handed him. 

“Super Pup?” 

“I’ll help, buddy.” Hotch looks like he’s going to stand, then hesitates. “In a second. Don’t go where I can’t see you, Jackers.” 

Hotch is tired. He didn’t come home until very late, but he’d woken Aunt Jess anyway and, when Jack woke, there his dad was sleeping in the beanbag by his bed. He’s sore all over now and exhausted from a restless night. Jack feels sorry, as much as he can for being six nearly seven, but he also knows that his dad doesn’t mind the hurting. It was nice to wake up together after a few days apart. 

And now he’s brought him to the library, and after that they’ll go for groceries. Jack should be quick. If they get home before dinner time his dad will ask him if he wants to nap together, which is the best. They just lay there in the big bed with the fan on and snooze until it’s too late to cook, so his dad breaks out the takeout menus, and promises he won’t do it again with a quick hug from behind. 

As though it makes him a terrible parent for feeding his kid. Jack can’t know how guilty it makes Hotch feel to do it, and Hotch doesn’t seem to notice how much Jack loves these days where his dad is exhausted and totally his. 

Jack runs around looking for Super Pup. Hotch’s phone beeps in his pocket, and he fights to keep his eyes open.

A ways away, you browse the fiction section in a crouch, knees somehow totally under your skirt, flicking aside spines of skinny books for something you can read at lunch time. Something that doesn’t require much attention, and could be read in short intervals. You used to demand a half hour to yourself when you first started teaching, but that was before the lonely kids started cropping up. Kids with no friends, or sad smiles, who want company and quiet alike. 

You reach for a pink-spined Japanese translation as a little hand pats your elbow. You’re so used to kids you say, “What’s up?” before you remember you aren’t at work. 

You turn in your crouch to look behind you. “Oh, hi, Jack! What are you doing here?” 

“Me and dad are looking for books.” 

You smile at him genuinely, happy to see your favourite student, even if you’re terrified on the inside at the prospect of his father. He’s the most gentlemanly man you’ve ever met. He’s arduous in how respectful he is, he’s understanding, and he’s tall, dark, and handsome. It is a chilling collection of traits. You stumble whenever you have to talk to him. 

But Jack is easy. You and Jack talk every day. “What sorts of books? Just for fun?” 

“I want to read Super Pup.” 

The kids love Super Pup and his magic bark. You stand promptly, suddenly much taller than Jack as you brush down your skirt. “Wait,” you say. Mr. Hotchner gets called away for work all the time, but he wouldn’t leave Jack alone, would he? “Where’s your dad? You’re not by yourself, are you?” 

Jack laughs. “No! I’m looking for Super Pup! Dad’s tired.” 

You can’t decipher exactly what those two things have to do with each other, but you can guess how panicked his dad will be to find Jack so far from the kid’s section. Fiction is the other side of the library. “How did you end up over here?” You offer your hand. “Should we go back and find your dad?” 

“I saw your skirt, Miss L/N. I like the flowers.”

He takes your hand, clumsy to your gentleness. “Thanks, honey. Let’s go find dad before he calls his scary friends and has your name on the news.” 

You get to the kids section slowly. Endearingly so, but nerve-wracking, too, because Mr. Hotchner can be intimidating. Jack likes holding your hand, you think, clinging to your fingers as he guides you across the library, past the staircase down to the first floor, and back to the kids section. 

“Jack?” Mr. Hotchner asks loudly, turned away from you both near the graphic novel selection. “Jack.” 

“Mr. Hotchner,” you say. 

“Dad!” 

He spins on his heel. His shoulders relax noticeably, but the stress in his gaze remains. 

“Jack, I said stay where I can see you,” he says, not half as scolding as he could be as Jack lets go of your hand and runs to his legs, where he stops. “Please, buddy. You gotta listen to me.” 

Jack turns between you and his dad with a smile, “But look, it’s Miss L/N.” 

“I can see,” he says softly. 

Mr. Hotchner leans down, taking Jack up into his arms with impressive ease, and begins the walk to you where you’ve stayed. 

“I hope he didn’t interrupt you,” he says. 

“Please,” you say, “he’s my favourite. Just–” You wince. “Don’t tell anybody at school I said that, Jack. Please.” 

“I think we can keep this secret,” Mr. Hotchner says. 

“He was just telling me that you’re looking for Super Pup. If you don’t find it, we have copies at the school library. And we can always order you one.” 

Mr. Hotchner gives you a small, and what you know to be rare, smile. “I don’t think he even looked.” 

“I did look!” Jack disagrees, though his disagreement barely has any attitude to it, a credit to his upbringing. 

“You clearly weren’t looking in the right place.” 

“I was too. How would you know, you were sleeping!” 

“I wasn’t sleeping,” Mr. Hotchner says to you. 

You tuck your hands behind your back. “It’s okay, Mr. Hotchner, I believe you. In my classroom we like to say we’re resting our eyes.” 

“Aaron,” he says, as he says whenever you speak to each other, and as you always forget to call him. Not a demand but a suggestion you’d swear to be bordering affectionate. 

You’ve been Jack’s teacher for two months this year, and almost the entire year previously. In the summer when they leave, you’ll find out if you’re moving up a grade with him, but until then, you’ve made the most of such a nice kid, and you aren’t shy to tell that to Aaron. You don’t mind that Jack spends his lunch time with you. He embodies all of the reasons that pushed you to become a teacher in the first place. 

And his father is a good reason to stay. He’s one of the only nice (hot) dads. 

You do worry often that he can read your expression. His lips have quirked into a bemused smile, what’s so funny? He’s terrifying. 

“Aaron,” you rush to say, and fill the silence you’ve made, “It’s nice to see you.” 

“It’s nice to see you, too. You’ll see me on Monday, so you’ll be sick of me by Tuesday.” 

You rock ever so gently on your heels. “You aren’t working.” 

“It’s Jack’s birthday.” 

You nod, pleased. “I know! I know, we already talked about what cupcakes he wants, didn’t we? Everybody’s gonna have rainbow sprinkle, and for a treat we’re going to watch a movie before lunch.” 

“Do you do that for every kid?” 

“I do.” 

“How do you afford it?” He lowers his gaze. “I just mean, it’s expensive to do that for every birthday.” 

“Luckily for me and unluckily for the kids, quite a few of them have birthdays outside of term time. Thirty students is three trays of ten, and that doesn’t usually break the bank, even if things get tight. But… I don’t know, I guess I just have to make room when it does. It’s special to feel special, and,” —you smile, exuberant and a little shy at once, clutching your elbow in your hand— “Jack always makes everybody else feel special. ” 

The boy in question turns into his fathers chest, pleased beyond words. 

Aaron gives you a long, long look. “Thank you,” he says. 

“Oh, you’re welcome.” 

You say goodbye to Aaron and Jack and wish them both a good weekend, which you spend wondering what the pressure of Aaron’s hand would be like on your shoulder, and if you should be ashamed of yourself for thinking about it at all. He seems like he’d give a good hug. You catch yourself picturing him opening a door and ban yourself from thinking of him at all. 

Monday morning, you stand at the door ushering your students inside, and you can’t help beaming when Jack and Aaron arrive. 

“Aw, Jack, where’s your birthday badge?” you ask, fall air nipping your nose. 

“He was feeling too shy,” Aaron says. He’s in casual dress again. Some men should be banned from half-zips, it’s inhumane. 

“You were?” You bend just a bit, hand in your pocket. “Well, I thought you might be, so I brought my badge from home. It’s super shiny, bud. What do you think?” 

You show Jack the badge, It’s My Birthday in silver against a rainbow backdrop. 

Maybe it was silly to bring, but you had a feeling he wouldn’t want to wear one, and maybe he should. He deserves for all his friends to give him some attention, and to have them fight over who gets to sit with him at lunch. 

“We have something for you,” Jack says. 

You stand straight. “You do?” 

Aaron hadn’t been expecting to be the one to give it to you, that much is obvious. He hesitates for a second before he passes you a small brown box, the top of which is made up of four leaves folded into a dome. You have an inkling of what it might me. 

“Thank you… Can I open it now?” you ask. 

“I think you should wait for lunch,” Aaron says. 

You raise your eyebrows but abide by his suggestion, murmuring another thank you as Aaron bends to give Jack a hug. “Have a good day. I’ll be here to pick you up, I promise,” he says.

It’s a great day. The kids are excited for cupcakes and overjoyed to get them before lunch. Not a crumb goes uneaten, and as they all sing for Jack with his borrowed badge, he’s actually happy for the attention. He doesn’t eat with you at lunch, which is a great thing even if you love his company. 

Alone, you fold back the leaves of your mysterious box and smile like an idiot when you confirm what’s inside. A cupcake slightly more sophisticated than rainbow sprinkle spreads icing across the brown carrier, and a business card leans against the other side. 

The front of the card is as you’d expected it to be spelling out Aaron’s contact details from work, and you combust thinking he wants you to call him, but it’s the back that you’d been meant to see. You read it as you fold down the leaves of the cupcake carrier, 

Thirty students, three trays of ten. What does that leave for you? —Aaron. 

Flirt, you think firmly, happily. He’s such a flirt. 

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble #criminal minds

[egcdeath]

something old, something new

pairing: patrick zweig x f!reader

summary: when your childhood best friend asks you to get married, how are you supposed to say no?

word count: 7.2k

warnings: MATURE (mentions of sex but no explicit sex scenes), marriage of convenience, fluff, mentions of alcohol, patrick is a bad friend (but he improves), friends to spouses to lovers, fake dating, yearning and pining, everyone is bad at communicating, many feelings are being repressed, mentions of dieting in an athlete way, one singular creepy old man, no use of y/n

author’s note: i cannot get this tennis man out of my head!! i hope you all enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it!

It wasn’t every day that you could count on hearing anything from your childhood best friend, but it seemed like whenever you did hear from Patrick Zweig, it was always an ask for something more shocking than the previous one. 

As kids, you spent many evenings doing the homework that Patrick didn’t want to do, despite the fact that you didn’t really want to do more homework either. At boarding school, you’d somehow become his personal designated driver, answering his calls no matter what time and groggily picking him up from whatever party he’d found himself at. In your adulthood, you found yourself becoming a go-to stand-in for him at events he didn’t feel like attending. The amount of times that you’d shaken hands at charity galas and introduced yourself as Patrick’s girlfriend, despite not having a single romantic encounter with him, was frankly astounding. 

It seemed like whenever Patrick needed something, you were the first person he reached out to. After his parents, of course. 

You dreaded knowing the reason behind the simple hey, text message you’d just received, but you were sure that you’d find the reason out sooner rather than later–and that whatever the reason was could not have been good. 

Like clockwork, only an hour after you’d received his message, Patrick appeared at the doorway of your apartment. He came to you equipped with his secret weapon, the kicked puppy look that he often used on you before he asked you for a ridiculous favor, like breaking up with his girlfriend for him or telling his mom that he still wasn’t joining the board of the family business. 

You sighed as you took his less-than-stellar appearance in. Downtrodden expression, wrinkled and sweat-stained shirt, as if he’d gone to the gym to sweat out his feelings before coming to you, and eyes so red-rimmed, you wondered if he’d been crying. 

If you had to guess, he’d either been arguing with his parents, who knew exactly how to get under his skin, or his tennis friends, who also knew exactly how to get under his skin, or his latest girlfriend, who probably confronted him about his own wrongdoings. Regardless of who had upset him, he had obviously come to you to lick his wounds. 

Like always, Patrick stalked inside without asking you for any further permission. The two of you had done this song and dance more times than either one of you would like to admit. 

“How are you?” he asked, stopping in your kitchen to steal an apple from your decorative bowl of fruit.

“I’m good,” you said with hesitation, eyeing him once more. He really looked like shit. If he hadn’t looked so sad, you would’ve told him exactly how much shit he looked like.  

“Aren’t you gonna ask me how I am?” he questioned, a little pathetically.

“No,” you walked off to your living room, fully expecting him to follow you. You were unsurprised when he did exactly that. “Let’s just get right to it. Why’d you come over here?” you asked as the two of you sat down on your couch. 

“My parents are cutting me off,” he explained, voice breaking as he spoke.

Surely, this couldn’t all be over an empty threat. They seemed to threaten Patrick with this every few days. In fact, you’d been in the room with him when his parents promised that he’d never see another dime from them–more than once. Every time, it ended with them coming to their senses and throwing more cash at him. 

“That’s what, the twentieth time?” you laughed. “They always threaten to cut you off. What’s different this time?”

“This time, they mean it.”

You laughed even harder in his face. If you had a quarter for every time you’d had this conversation, you’d be richer than the two of your families combined. 

“I’m serious,” he inched closer to you. “They’re tired of funding my ‘tennis habit’. They want me to get serious about life. To join the board and start a family. My dad showed me an edited draft of his will and everything”

“So?” you prompted, trying to figure out where you fell into the equation. Hopefully he wouldn’t try to put you up to something absurd, like seducing his father into convincing him to not threaten Patrick’s inheritance.

“So, tennis is the only thing I care about.”

“Okay…” you trailed off. “What would you like me to do about that?”

“I need you to help show my parents that I have a vision for the future.”

“Again, Patrick, what exactly are you asking me to do?”

“Marry me.”

You weren’t sure what you expected him to say, but it certainly was not that. Your mouth instantly dropped open and you were sure that you were gaping like a fish. Maybe if he had asked you ten years ago, you’d have instantly said yes, but you’d let that naive dream die after you’d come to realize the transactional subtext of your friendship.

“What?”

“I want you to marry me. I was thinking… you remember when we were younger and we made that pact, that if we weren’t married by the time we were adults, then we’d get hitched?”

You continued to stare at him, completely dumbfounded and not believing a single word coming from his mouth. “I… I…” you couldn’t even form the words. “We were kids!”

He gave you a halfhearted shrug, as if that didn’t matter at all, and as if he didn’t just ask you to be legally and romantically bound to him forever.

“You are fucking unbelievable! You haven't talked to me for anything other than asking me a favor in years, I barely know you’re alive apart from the random drunk texts you send me, and now you want me to marry you? Do you even hear yourself?”

You scoffed and stared at him in disbelief. “And that has to be the worst proposal in all of human history. First you tell me that tennis is the only thing you care about and then ask me to marry you? You’re a joke.”

He let you finish your rant, but after a beat he finally asked. “…Is that a no?”

———-

Stranger things had happened to you than marrying your childhood best friend just a month after he’d randomly popped back up in your life. At least, that’s what you told yourself as you walked down the aisle on a beautiful beach off of the Amalfi Coast.

The last few weeks had been an absolute whirlwind, with what felt like every second of your time consumed by making guest lists and invitations, booking hotel rooms, and finding a dress that you liked enough to get married in. Obviously, you knew this was more of an elaborate scheme than a celebration of love, but you wanted it to be nice anyway. For all you knew, you may never get married again.

You don’t know what possessed you to say yes to Patrick. Maybe the small, desperate part of you that had been begging him to truly see you since you were old enough to realize he didn’t, or maybe the desire to finally have that fairytale destination wedding you’d been dreaming about from the time you learned what a wedding was. Regardless of the reason, both of your families were overjoyed by the union. In one fell swoop, you’d been able to satisfy both of your parents’ desires for you to settle down, and you’d done it with someone both pairs approved of. 

You had to give props to Patrick, the ceremony was beautiful. Given the short timeline, the two of you decided to divide and conquer the planning of the event. You were sure that he’d outsourced the work, since he was still in the middle of his tennis season, but whoever he hired did an excellent job at giving you the wedding you’d always wanted. 

Despite the very short timeline everyone had been given, you were able to wrangle all of your close family and friends to Italy to watch you elope. Your parents had insisted on inviting second cousins and shareholders to your wedding, but you’d somehow convinced them that you and Patrick wanted a smaller, more intimate ceremony. It was probably better to have less people there, lest someone notices the artificial nature of your union. 

Part of you felt like you’d pulled off the greatest prank of all time as the two of you stood up in front of your small crowd, gazing as lovingly as you could manage into each others’ eyes while the officiant said his spiel, but the other, more logical part of you filled with dread as the reality of the situation began to set in. Patrick seemed to have a way of always dragging you into a shitty situation, and you hoped for both of your sakes, that that wouldn’t be the case for your marriage.

After what felt like a lifetime, Patrick began to recite his vows, claiming to have loved you since you were children, and promising to continue to love you ‘till death did you part. If you had been marrying literally anyone else, your knees would go weak with swooning. 

Unfortunately, you were cursed with the knowledge of the reality of your situation, one where your vows sounded more like: “We only have to stay married until I retire, which should be sooner rather than later. We don’t have to do anything together: no galas, no family dinners, no family vacations. Hell, you don’t even have to come to my games. And we don’t have to be exclusive either. This is basically just a title, so feel free to see anyone you want to. I can already see the worry in your face. Stop that. We can hire someone to make us prenups, so the divorce will be an easy, clean split of our assets. See? It’s not that bad.”

The dichotomy between the words he’d said to you a month ago and the bullshit he was spewing now almost made you laugh, but that was clearly not the reaction you were meant to be having when the love of your life was publicly declaring their feelings for you. 

Once he finished declaring his romantic, empty words, you began to read off your vows. They fell in a similar vein to his, a proclamation of a lifetime-spanning love that didn’t really exist in the first place. But when you glanced up at him from your slip of paper, he was really selling it. He stared at you like he adored you, like he wanted to study every inch of your face after running off with you into the sunset.

The ridiculousness of it all finally hit you like a freight train, and you managed to pivot the laugh that was creeping up into your throat into a weepy sounding crack of your voice. Surely people cried during their own weddings. 

You finished off your vows, doing your best to pretend like this whole ordeal wasn’t the most ridiculous scheme you’d ever been dragged into. You imagined a world where he was less selfish and you were less selfless, one where you were exchanging these vows with sincerity, and it helped you to get through the words that you knew were almost completely meaningless. 

The two of you then took turns placing the ring on each others’ fingers, with Patrick giving you a ring with the largest diamond you’d ever seen, and you giving him a band that had been passed throughout your family. He’d agreed to give you the heirloom back once you divorced, so you couldn’t complain too much about giving it away in the first place.

The announcement of being able to kiss the bride rang out in your ears, yet you still found yourself surprised when Patrick eagerly wrapped his arms around you and kissed you passionately. Cheers erupted around the two of you, and you pulled away as the officiant declared you Mr. and Mrs. Zweig.

You had successfully tricked your audience, and yet, you still had the strangest feeling. 

Your reception felt far more natural than your wedding ceremony. After a change of outfit, a huge bowl of pasta, and a few flutes of champagne, you were feeling substantially better about the arguably poor decision you’d just made. You chatted up your friends, who jumped at the opportunity to comment on how cute of a couple you two were, did some light matchmaking between single guests, and placated both of your parents with manufactured acts of affection. You even managed to get Patrick out on the dance floor, after he swore to you that he didn’t dance. 

By the time the two of you were stumbling back into your villa, the woes of the day had practically been forgotten. When you were having this much fun, who cared about a massive, potentially life altering decision? 

You immediately made a beeline to the bathroom, anxious to get into your comfortable pajamas and to wash your face after a long day of wearing tight, extravagant dresses and a heavy layer of makeup.  

“So what did you think of your big day, Mrs. Zweig?” Patrick called out from the other side of the bathroom door, where you were sure he was also preparing for bed. “Was it everything you wanted and more?”

“I think this is the stupidest thing I’ve ever done,” you paused as you thought about something before confessing, “but it was everything I wanted and more.”

“Yes!” he celebrated from where you couldn’t see him, though you could perfectly envision the goofy look on his face. “I owe it to you after everything I’ve put you through. I just hope you weren’t too let down by the groom.”

“What?” you drew out before blowing a raspberry. “Of course not. You looked very handsome today,” you complimented in between splashes of your face. 

“You looked pretty beautiful, yourself,” he complimented you right back. 

“Aww, thank you, honey,” you emphasized the pet name. 

“Hmm, I don’t know if I like that,” you heard the squeak of the bed from behind the door as you assumed that he’d sat down.

“Hey, you’re the one who made me marry you,” you pointed out. “Am I more than you bargained for?”

“Of course not, babe,” he emphasized his own pet name, which sent you into a fit of laughter. “It’s just so weird to hear you refer to me as anything other than an asshole.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, you’re still an asshole,” you replied as you walked out of the bathroom, donning an old shirt with the logo of your boarding school and an equally old pair of shorts. “Just a married asshole.”

You took in the sight of your now-husband as you made your way to your side of the bed, surprised to find that you quite liked the sense of domestic bliss you were feeling. The bed dipped as you sat down and glanced back at Patrick with the slightest bit of hesitation. 

“Is this weird for you? I can go to the spare room, if you want me to,” he offered, surely in reference to the two of you sleeping in the same bed. 

“Don’t worry about it,” you assured him, setting a steady hand on his knee. “What kind of couple would we be if we didn’t spend our wedding night together?” you teased. 

“The kind of couple that marries for convenience?” he suggested.

“Hey, who’s to say that this isn’t love? I had the biggest crush on you when we were kids. Maybe some of it lingered, or some shit.”

“Oh yeah?” he looked at you with that sleazy smirk that you both loved and hated. “What happened?”

“Hmm… I think I realized that you’re a dick,” you matched his smirk with a challenging one of your own.

“Huh. Did you have this realization before or after you started seeing Dan Thompson?” he questioned.

You were surprised by the mention of your first boyfriend, particularly because you weren’t sure that Patrick remembered any detail about your personal life, let alone your love life. “I realized it after you started treating me like your workhorse.”

“Oh okay, so you had a crush on me while you were with your boyfriend. Good to know.”

“Shut up,” you groaned and turned away from him as you finally full laid down. 

“Would it make you feel better to know that I also had a crush on you?” you heard the bed sheets rustle as he scooted closer to you, and you turned back to face him. 

“You’re lying.” You couldn’t see any world where that would make sense to you. In your youth, it seemed like Patrick was always off somewhere with a new person, and none of those people were you. Not that you had an issue with it, but the thought that the two of you might’ve had crushes on each other at the same time without either of you pursuing each other felt kind of weird. 

“Nope. You’re the first person I ever jerked off to,” he said as casually as if he were telling you what he ate for breakfast, not breaking eye contact with you.

“Ew, you’re so gross,” you gently pushed him, but your hands lingered where they sat on his chest. “Was that supposed to be romantic or something?”

“That’s not romantic to you?” he asked with all the sincerity of someone who was fully committing to a bit. 

The two of you broke out into laughter. Once you finally caught your breath, you began once more. “This is gonna be a long marriage.”

“Hopefully,” he remarked in response. 

“If you keep talking to me like that, I will literally go get our marriage annulled, like right now.”

“Please don’t,” he whined, grabbing one of your hands from his chest and kissing your fingers. “I’ll make it up to you.”

“Every time you promise to make something up to me, an inconsistent fairy gains its wings.”

“Hey,” his tone suddenly became very serious, completely catching you off guard. “I really am sorry that I’ve been a terrible friend. I don’t know that I’ve ever said it, but I am. You deserve so much better than me, and I don’t even know how I convinced you to do this for me.”

You almost started to laugh, unable to take the absurd situation seriously. You’d been waiting years to hear him genuinely apologize, and now hours after you’d married solely as a favor to him, he was finally telling you what you wanted to hear. 

“Please. I’m serious. I know you think I’m a piece of shit flaky ashhole, and I am, but I want to be a better husband to you than I ever was as a friend.”

You felt your heart stop beating for a second. The word husband sounded so foreign in his mouth. You couldn’t quite pin how you felt about it, but you knew you felt uncomfortable with the intimacy of his words. 

“Patrick, please shut up,” you squeezed your eyes shut, suddenly a little overwhelmed with the Patrick of it all. In fact, you couldn’t think of anything more encapsulating of your experience with him than the whiplash you got from that moment. He could be a complete asshat, but his occasional moments of earnestness kept you following him like a lost puppy, accepting his apologies and granting him ridiculous favors, despite your better judgment. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, moving closer to you to get a good look at you. You swore you felt your heart squeeze painfully in your chest. 

“I’m fine, I just-“ am overwhelmed by you being sweet? Can’t believe that I’m hearing you say this to me after so long? Also can’t believe that you and I are married?

None of the right words seemed to come to you, so you did the second best thing you could think of. 

You pecked his lips and pulled away as if you’d just touched a hot handle. You didn’t know what had come over you, and immediately began to apologize profusely. 

“Oh my god, I don’t know-“ you were cut off by his hands on your face, greedily and sloppily pulling you back in for another kiss, this one far more passionate and confident than the first. 

Your kiss was messy but fervent, years of pent up sexual frustration and non-sexual frustration behind your every movement. As you kissed, you moved to straddle him, feeling a little ridiculous in your ratty old clothes, but that didn’t stop him from groping you over your pajamas like you were the hottest thing on the planet. 

Maybe the strangest thing to happen to you that day wasn’t even your wedding.

——

That night was the first in a series of very strange events. You couldn’t even fully wrap your head around what was happening in your marriage. You just knew that the two of you had become closer friends than you’d ever been before, and that you slept together when either of you had the urge. It was basically a no strings attached situation, except, legally, all strings were attached. 

If you were confused by your arrangement, you were sure that your friends were even more lost, something they proved to you as they interrogated you over brunch. 

“So, just so we’re clear, you married him as a favor?!” your friend asked in complete disbelief. 

“Well… yeah, basically.”

“Shit. Can I ask you for a favor of a million dollars?” she joked, leading to the laughter of your other friends at the table.

“Well, that’s different. At least with our marriage, we both benefit. He gets his parents off his ass about being so focused on tennis that he doesn’t have any future prospects, and I get my parents to stop trying to marry me off to every single rich boy they find.”

“But you’re not like, actually married. Like you guys don’t have feelings for each other?” another friend questioned.

You sipped your mimosa before explaining your situation for what must’ve been the fifth time that day, “we’re basically friends with benefits.”

“But you’re legally married? Like, the wedding was official and stuff?”

“Legally? Yeah. But it’s literally just that,” you clarified. 

“Legal marriage and sex?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, hoping that they were finally catching on. 

“Then… are you guys seeing other people?”

“Oh yeah, what ever happened to that one model guy you were seeing?” another one of your friends pitched in. 

“It didn’t really work out,” you addressed that with an understatement. He rightfully flipped his shit when he found out you were going to be marrying someone else. “But neither of us are seeing other people. I don’t think either of us want to risk bringing anything back to one another.”

“That sounds pretty committed to me.”

“Not really,” you dismissed.

“Then why are you even together?”

“How many times do I have to explain how we both benefit from this?”

“No, not legally, or socially or whatever. Why are you hooking up with him? Aren’t you scared you’ll mess up your friendship or something?”

“Well, the sex is really, really good. But I’m really not worried. There's no romance between us. We’ve been friends for so long that it’s just… weird to look at him like anything other than my friend. It’s basically a loveless marriage of convenience.”

Your friend shot you a skeptical look. You just shrugged her off. 

———

The moment you found out your afternoon meeting had been canceled, you reached out to your assistant to make arrangements for you to go to Patrick’s tennis game. He’d been on a winning streak, and though he insisted that you didn’t need to come to his games, you knew that he secretly liked having you there. 

Over the past few months of your marriage, you’d grown to realize that he often didn’t say what he actually meant. Like the time he told you that he preferred to live alone, before breathily confessing in your ear that he slept better by your side. Or when he swore to you that he loved the pancakes you’d served him, despite the food being some of the worst you’d ever put in our mouth and him being on a diet. You almost found it sweet that he tried to prioritize your feelings over his own, which was surely a result of overcompensation from the way he had treated you for the majority of your lives. 

You arrived at his match just in time to watch him take a break, making your way into the stands and finding a seat where you’d have the best view of your friend as possible. You didn’t expect him to scan the audience and find you until much later on, but you were pleasantly surprised when the two of you made eye contact and he absolutely lit up. You waved, then gave him a thumbs up in hopes to communicate your support from far away. 

While you couldn’t always make it, you liked to play the role of supportive tennis wife. Getting dressed up and making an appearance not only publicly legitimized your sham of a marriage, but helped you to reconnect with some of your former boarding school classmates, who were often in the stands supporting a friend or a loved one. You also just liked to watch him play, as witnessing the passion and ferocity he had out on the court was extremely entertaining, and even at times, mildly arousing.  

With their break ending, Patrick went back out on the court and played just as well as you expected him to, crushing his competition, and looking up into the stands at you to celebrate once he’d scored the winning point. 

At first, it was surprising how proud his wins made you feel of him, a feeling that you explained to yourself by arguing that if he wasn’t giving his absolute all to tennis, then your marriage had basically been all for nothing. Although that did still ring slightly true, the truth was that you were simply proud of Patrick. Whether you liked it or not, the two of you were a unit now, which meant that his wins were your wins and vice versa. In some ways, it was kind of nice to be part of a team. Or at least his team.

You met Patrick down on the court, where he paused from packing his bag to immediately greet you with a kiss to the forehead, a small act of intimacy that was typically reserved for situations far different from the one you were currently in. 

“Hey! I didn’t know you were coming!” he exclaimed, pulling you in for a half-hug. 

“I didn’t know I was coming either,” you instinctually wrapped your arm around him in response to his half-hug. “Great job out there. You kinda demolished him!”

“I did, didn’t I,” he said just loud enough for you to hear, still wanting to appear like a good sport. “I have to go get ready for the press conference. Do you want to meet me at my hotel?”

“Of course. You don’t mind me staying for the night?” you probed, despite knowing the answer. He wouldn’t have asked you to go to his hotel in the first place if he’d minded.

“You know I never mind you staying for the night,” he gave you a cheeky wink.

“You’re so sleazy,” you commented with fake disgust.

“You started it,” he replied, reluctantly pulling away from you and reaching into his bag to grab his hotel keycard. “I’ll text you when I’m heading back.” 

The moment you received a message about him being on his way to the hotel, you made a very lengthy phone call and request to the restaurant in the building. Technically, he shouldn’t be eating any of what you ordered, on account of him being on a strict diet plan, but you figured that he deserved it after playing the way that he did. Besides, Patrick liked thoughtful acts of service, and you figured that this would count as one.

“You know me so well,” he practically gasped as he stepped into the room, taking in the platters of food you’d laid out for him.

“What kind of wife would I be if I didn’t?” you teased, though your sentiment was somewhat accurate, and it was clear that the two of you had grown to know each other far better over the past few months, you hoped that your friend wasn’t interpreting your words in too serious of a way. 

The two of you laid out on the pristine hotel bed, eating the feast that you’d ordered without much dialogue between you, other than a comment on how good something was, or a request to pass an item to one another. It felt oddly domestic, and oddly enough, you liked it. Maybe you liked it even more than you’d been willing to admit.

“I’m gonna go shower,” he announced after tossing his napkin onto a cleared off plate.

“Want some company?” you offered, raising your brows at him in a playfully suggestive manner.

“Is that what this is all about?” he feigned offense. 

“Maybe,” you trailed off. “Or maybe I just wanted to celebrate the greatest tennis player of all time,” you purred.

“Come on. You and I both know that is far from the truth.”

“Well you’re the greatest player in my heart,” you praised, much to his chagrin.

“Ugh. Shut up and come shower with me.” 

As you sleepily ran your fingers through his damp hair, you were surprised when he broke his silence with a comment seemingly out of the blue. It was more of a mumble than anything else, but you’d grown accustomed to his muffled words over the course of your marriage. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he randomly complimented you.

“You know you don’t have to compliment me to get into my pants, right?” you asked with a hint of laughter in your tone.

“I’m not trying to,” he pecked your arm–the limb he had the easiest access to at the moment–as if he was trying to emphasize his point, though all it did was bring heat to your cheeks at the reminder of the way he’d pressed slow and meaningful kisses along your calves and inner thighs while the two of you were in the shower. “You just looked so good today, I couldn’t not comment.”

“I don’t look good every day?” you asked facetiously, trying to deflect from the warm and fuzzy feeling his compliments and affection were making you feel. 

“Of course you always look good,” he reassured you rather than playing along with your game of joking instead of addressing your feelings. “I just don’t tell you that enough.”

You weren’t even sure how you could respond to that. Clearly, he wasn’t in the mood to mince words tonight, but you couldn’t bear to match his genuinity with cheap jokes. The only real, genuine thought to pop into your head were three ridiculous words that you immediately batted away. You couldn’t think of anything more embarrassing than randomly declaring your love to a husband who wasn’t really your husband in a marriage that wasn’t really a marriage. 

Out of ideas, you hit the lamp on your side of the bed. “I appreciate it. Goodnight.”

“Night,” he parroted back to you, remaining snug against your chest, despite the fact that your hands had stopped threading through his hair. 

Deep down, you knew that those three words had been on the tip of Patrick’s tongue, too.    

——

Being in the social circles of filthily rich people meant you often found yourself at random charity events, hosted by the nonprofits of families and business owners looking for a particularly large tax break for the year. Over the years, you’d felt that you’d seen and participated in it all: marathons raising awareness for a serious, but extremely rare disease, date auctions to raise money for a cause that certainly didn’t justify you having to go on a date with a man almost forty years your senior, or galas for nearly-extinct sea creatures that were essentially used as an excuse to stand around and network while drinking expensive alcohol and eating hor d'oeuvres.

You seemed to find yourself at a lot of events like the latter, including the one you were standing at now. The gala, which took place in the art exhibit it was raising money for, was a rather standard one, filled with the typical suspects who regularly attended those events. 

It was slightly ironic to be at the event with Patrick as your plus one, as this was the exact type of event he would’ve texted you about an hour before it began to ask if you would play his concerned partner for the night who told everyone a flimsy excuse about him being under the weather. 

It also served as somewhat of a reminder to you of the massive growth that your friend had undergone since the two of you became legally bound to one another. It finally felt like Patrick saw you as a true friend, instead of a reliable person who would do his dirty work. It finally felt like he cared. In some ways, your marriage was the best thing to happen to your friendship. 

Patrick returned to where you were standing, this time with two flutes of champagne and a delicious looking appetizer in his hand. 

“You’re too kind,” you said as he passed you your drink. 

“Anything for my wife,” he mockingly bowed in front of you and you chuckled and shook your head. Over the past year, the two of you slowly became slightly more comfortable with referencing each other as husband and wife, but only really as a joke. You guessed that in a lot of ways, that’s what your marriage was—a ridiculous inside joke.  

He was just about to feed you a hor d'oeuvre when you were approached by a wildly unwelcome figure: the man who had purchased a date with you a few years ago. Despite your one very awkward, stilted date, he never really seemed to get over you–which he made a point to prove at every event you both happened to be at. And unfortunately for you, his generous donations landed him on the guest list for the majority of these events. 

You were used to fighting him off on your own, as he seemed to come and flirt with you regardless of how inappropriate it was for the setting of the event, or even when he already had a beautiful young bombshell hanging on his arm. At this point, you’d learned to just tune his every word out and flee as soon as you possibly could. He was annoying, but he wasn’t dangerous.  

“Hey, honey,” he greeted you way too comfortably. You’d given up on asking him to call you by your name a very long time ago. 

“Hi, John,” you reached out to shake his hand and cringed internally when he kissed the back of your hand. 

“Oh honey, who is this?” Patrick immediately lept in, surprising you with his unsubtle passive aggressive tone and ridiculous use of a pet name. 

“You don’t remember me? I swear, we’ve met a few times.” John asked, trying to smile despite clearly being agitated by the presence of competition.

“Some people are more forgettable than others,” he said with a shrug. “How do you know my wife?” He emphasized the word and you pushed down the small inkling of pride you were feeling. Whether it was from watching Patrick try to scare this annoying man away from you, or being so proudly referred to as his wife, you couldn’t be sure.  

“Finally settling down, eh?” he directed at you, then directed his next statement to Patrick. “We went on a date back in the day.”

“It was for that one date auction thing,” you quickly added context, but paused when you took in John’s less than pleased look. He was a large donor at your own family’s nonprofit, and you were sure that your parents wouldn’t be too pleased with you if they found out he pulled out over you hurting his feelings. “We had a lot of fun, though.”

“We definitely did,” he chuckled and smirked. You wanted to punch him in the mouth. “We should definitely do it again sometime.”

It was clear that Patrick was not taking kindly to seeing you be flirted with so brazenly in front of him. Part of you wondered why he would be possessive, since part of your initial deal was that you could see whoever you wanted, even if that happened to be a creepy old man with a lot of money. The other part of you was enjoying seeing him so fired up. Particularly, seeing him fired up over you. 

“Our schedule is just so busy. Between work and us trying to start a family, I just don’t know when we’ll have time to see you again.”

Trying to start a family? That was definitely news to you. Although, the idea didn’t sound awful. Wasn’t it everyone’s dream to start a family with their closest, most dear friend? 

“Well, she knows where to find me, right, honey?”

“Mhm,” you mumbled, looking into your glass like it was the most interesting thing in the world. 

“Now if you don’t mind, my wife and I are going to go check out the exhibit,” Patrick announced, grabbing your hand and taking a step away from John. 

“You two have fun,” he said before clapping Patrick’s shoulder and leaning in to begin a stage whisper. “Make sure you treat her right and cherish her. If you don’t, I might have to swoop in and do so myself.”

He winked at you and you bit back a gag. 

“Don't you worry your wrinkly little head. Nobody lov- cherishes her more than I do,” he theatrically patted his back much like he’d initially done to him. “See you around.”

Did he almost say what you think he almost said? Surely you misheard him, or he was just playing up your relationship to scare away that creepy man. It really wasn’t anything to think twice about. 

Once the two of you had walked away far enough to be out of earshot, you finally addressed what had just happened. “Thank you, bodyguard. You don’t even know how much I despise that man.”

“He seems like he’s the worst,” he agreed with you, looking back over his shoulder. 

“That’s because he is,” you emphasized. “This is so random, but did you mean what you said earlier?”

Patrick suddenly paused, his face going pale like he’d just seen a ghost. You were a little confused by this reaction, as he’d said nothing to warrant that level of fear. 

“Do you actually want to start a family? Obviously not now, while you’re still playing tennis, but maybe eventually? I know we don’t have the most traditional marriage, but, I don’t know. Neither of us are getting any younger, and it might be fun to co-parent with my best friend,” you were clearly rambling now, but luckily, Patrick came in to rescue you for the second time that night. He looked far less aghast now. 

“I would love that,” he said to you with a genuine smile. You matched his with one of your own. 

———

“Do you have any big plans for retirement?” a reporter asked for the final question of the press conference. 

“Mostly just eating a lot of burgers. And maybe learning how to play pickleball,” Patrick responded, never one to give a serious answer to questions that weren’t explicitly about tennis. 

It was a ridiculous note to end on, but it felt right. You’d found that to be the case with most things in your life that pertained to him–most notably your marriage, which ended up being far more than you ever expected it to be.

After the press conference had come to a close, Patrick met you outside by the car, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips, then leaning down to peck your baby bump. 

“How does it feel to be retired?” you asked, ruffling his hair while he was still bending down.

“It feels like you might divorce me,” he joked. Obviously your marriage deal was only meant to cover the time that he was still playing tennis, but after years of a complicated marriage that suddenly became significantly less complicated once you finally confronted the fact that the two of you very obviously loved each other, it seemed unlikely that your union would end any time soon. 

You glanced down at your baby bump, then back up to him skeptically.  “I hope you’re not being serious.”

“Come on, I never know with you. You’re the one who friendzoned me the entire first year of our marriage!” he exclaimed.

“That was a lifetime ago,” you countered before taking his hands in yours. “If you’re really worried, I have zero intentions of ending our marriage.”

“That’s all I wanted to hear,” he grinned, stepping away from you. “Let’s get going. I don’t want us to miss our reservation.”

You nodded and obliged, passing him the keys before heading to the passenger side of the car.

Once you sat down, you were overcome with the urge to say something. You had spent so much time bottling up and pressing down your own feelings, that it was now hard to resist letting things out when they came to you. 

“I’m so proud of you,” you blurted. “And I love you. So much.”

Patrick smiled at you genuinely, before his look turned into a slightly more devious one. “I love you so much, too. One might even say I love you more.” 

“Don’t even start with that,” you laughed, not in the mood to have the kind of back and forth with him that you had at least once a week. Considering that you were carrying his child, you were pretty sure that you were the winner of the love competition.  

“Fine. We love each other equally,” he conceded.

“That’s more like it.”

You tried to think back to one specific moment where your marriage had crossed over from being one of convenience, into a union with genuine feelings attached, and realized that you weren’t exactly sure. It could’ve been the first night you spent together, when you’d finally allowed yourself to consider what your relationship might look like beyond a simple friendship, or maybe it was even earlier than that, when you gazed into Patrick’s eyes as you read off your vows. The look of pure adoration he gave you was one that you had grown familiar with throughout the course of your marriage, but you hadn’t realized at the time just how genuine he had been. Or maybe even the moment Patrick asked you in the living room of your apartment, when you’d been the first person he thought of to carry out his ridiculous scheme, and you’d said yes despite every logical part of your brain that screamed at you to say no. 

Whenever it began didn’t particularly matter. What mattered now was that the two of you fully intended to spend the rest of your lives together. 

#patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig #patrick zweig x you #patrick zweig fic #patrick zweig imagine #art donaldson x reader #challengers #challengers fanfic #challengers fic #josh o'connor x reader

[tencrushesperday]

dont know if you take request or what not but i would die for a 7 minutes in heaven with mrempes. whole size kink and all just being trapped in a closet with him during a house party visibly knowing all the girls want him but he chooses you.

warnings : suggestive language (i guess?)

i think im better at writing angst and sad stuff (got a lot of experience to take inspo from lol)

“You”, Matt said pointed in your direction. You hated playing this game until he had picked you. He stood up from his armchair, the girl that was perched on the arm rest almost falling down but he paid her no mind. His eyes were set on you and it set your body on fire.

You grabbed the hand he was extending you to help lift yourself up from your spot on the couch and followed him to the closet. Who knew playing 7 minutes in heaven as adults would be this fun.

You had been a regular at the Lake House since your teenage years. Your parents owned a house down the street so when the Hughes boys would throw a party during the summer or go out on the lake you would attend and bring some new girls that were in town for the summer each year. You had also met their college friends and teammates throughout the years.

However this was the first year that Matt Rempe had come. You heard that Ethan Edwards, a friend of Luke’s had brought him along. You had made a mental note the first time you saw the guy to thank Edwards because boy was he something. Tall, big, a pile of muscle that could throw you around like a rag doll. Overall, your type.

He opened the door and let you in the clothes first. A gentleman too. You gave him a smirk and went in. He followed and tried closing the door behind him but he was too big. He was mumbling apologies as he tried to close it again but failing.

You grab his shirt and pressed him to your body. The door closed now.

You had to crank your neck all the way up to look at him. Was that blush on his cheeks? It seemed he had looked at you with determination earlier but maybe you have misinterpreted his gaze.

“We can just talk if you want to.” he was avoiding your gaze.

“Oh don’t go all shy on me now big boy.” you said with a chuckle. His eyes drifted to you finally. His gaze was intense. You felt so small under it. And naked. Not like you were very dressed with just your bikini top and jean shorts.

Even those felt like too much when he was looking at you that way, towering over you.

His left hand slowly traveled from the uncomfortable position on the shelf behind you to your cheek. So he just needed encouragement. How sweet. “Are you always this cocky?” Amusement laced his voice which made your lip tug upward in turn.

“I’m worse usually”

His other hand moved to your hip, his touch burning hotter than the summer sun. His fingers spread on your back and he pulled you closer to him. “Is this okay?” his voice so low, you felt it in your core. You hummed in response. “Lost your voice already baby?”

To show him you were still in control, your other arm, that wasn’t grabbing his shirt, reached up to his neck and dragged him down. Your lips hovered over his, teasing. He wanted to take it slow? Why not make it as painful as possible.

He exhaled heavily then closed the distance between you two. The kiss was heated and heavy and his tongue slipped into your mouth right away.

Might as well make the best of the 7 minutes.

Your hand reached under his shirt, his toned abs feeling hard as rock. You were holding onto his waistband and eager to get to more exploring. His own hand traveled lower from your back then he nudged your thigh to jump.

Leaving your explorations for later, you jumped and wrapped your legs around his waist. The very few times you pulled apart was to get into a better position in the small space.

The 7 minutes were coming to an end and you remembered where you were when you heard footsteps outside the door. You slid down from Matt’s grip. When your feet touched the ground, your legs were slightly wobbly from the state he had felt you in. Your head was spinning and you just knew you needed more of him.

“We are not done.” he whispered in your ear when the door opened. Your voice was failing you so you nodded.

You went back to your seat on the couch and were stealing glances to Matt until the end of the game. Once this game was done, you knew you were going to follow him into the nearest available room.

#matt rempe x reader #matt rempe

[dee-writes-smut]

FORGET ME NOTS (Chapter Two)

FEATURING Eris Vanserra x pregnant!reader

SUMMARY settling into The Autumn Court is scary and intimidating especially when a certain fire-blooded male takes a liking to you.

CONTENT WARNINGS vague descriptions of smut, mentions of abuse, Beron (yeah, yall, he's mentioned), Ianthe (cough, cough), vulnerable convos, flashbacks to calanmai, pregnancy, sad Eris :(

AUTHORS NOTE I know this is much shorter than the first chapter, but when I say I struggled to write this chapter, I mean I STRUGGLED. Anywho, I apologize if you guys feel like the pacing of this chapter is kind of fast, I was trying to get a lot of information in all at once so we could move on to the good stuff. Hope you enjoy ;)

As dawn broke over the Autumn Court, the first rays of sunlight crept through the tall, arched windows of my chamber, casting a warm glow that promised a new day. Despite the beauty it heralded, my heart was heavy with secrets I carried, especially now, facing the prospect of daily walks with Eris—a constant reminder of the brother he did not know he shared with me in such a profound way.

I found Eris waiting in the courtyard, his posture relaxed against the cool morning air that whispered through the turning leaves. His presence was both a comfort and a curse, wrapped in the guise of courtly duty.

“Good morning,” he greeted, his voice carrying that ever-present hint of mischief that seemed less charming today, more a wall I needed to scale or perhaps fortify.

I mustered a smile, tight-lipped and brief. “Eris.”

He seemed to notice my cool demeanor, his eyebrows lifting slightly in amusement—or was it challenge? “Shall we begin?”

The gardens of the Autumn Court were undoubtedly beautiful, but I walked beside Eris with a stiffness in my shoulders, an invisible armor against the potential wounds of getting too close. Every step was a reminder of the line I walked, balancing between necessity and fear.

“It’s beautiful here,” I commented, a safe observation as we passed a sprawling bed of flowers, their vibrant hues a stark contrast to the muted turmoil within me.

“It is,” he responded, his eyes briefly meeting mine before returning to the path ahead. “The court has its ways of ensnaring you with beauty, all the while hiding its thorns.”

I couldn’t help but snort softly at that. “Sounds familiar,” I muttered, more to myself than to him.

Eris caught the words, though, and his smile deepened. “Indeed. But sometimes, we find that even thorns have their purpose.”

We walked in silence for a few moments, the only sounds the rustle of leaves and the distant call of court birds. I felt his gaze on me several times, curious or calculating, I couldn’t tell.

“About last night—” I began, but Eris raised a hand, halting my words.

“Today, let’s set aside the past and dealings of courts for now. Let’s walk, talk, and be unburdened, at least for a moment.”

Reluctantly, I nodded, accepting the temporary ceasefire.

Our path took us deeper into the garden, where the foliage grew thicker and the outside noises fell away. Here, the air was cooler, the shadows deeper, and the sense of seclusion more pronounced. Eris seemed more at ease in this part of the garden, his steps unhurried, his eyes occasionally catching the light in a way that softened the usual sharpness.

"This is one of my favorite parts of the garden," he shared, his voice almost contemplative. "There's a peace here that's hard to find elsewhere in the court."

I looked around, taking in the dense greenery that enveloped us, the serene quiet. "It's like a different world," I admitted.

"Yes," he agreed, his gaze lingering on a particularly dense cluster of trees. "A world apart, where one can forget, if only for a moment, the burdens waiting beyond those trees."

As we walked, the conversation slowly shifted from the impersonal — comments on the weather and the garden — to more personal territory. Eris spoke of his childhood in the court, his voice tinged with a nostalgia that painted a picture of a boy who had run through these very paths, wild and unburdened.

I listened, the stories painting a picture of a different Eris, one who had existed before the weight of the court had fully settled upon his shoulders. It was in these stories that I found myself drawn in, my guard lowering just a notch as I began to see the man beneath the prince.

Our walk led us to a secluded spot with a bench overlooking a tranquil pond, a favorite retreat of Eris’s by his own admission. "I come here to think," he said as we sat. "Today, I wanted to share it."

Something in his tone, a rare note of sincerity, made me glance at him. "Thank you," I said quietly, the weight of my secrets making the words heavier than intended.

"Everyone needs a sanctuary," he replied, his voice low, almost reflective. "Perhaps, for now, this can be ours."

As we sat together, the morning light softening around us, a part of me wanted to believe in the sanctuary he offered. But the secrets I held tightened like a noose around my thoughts, a constant reminder of the stakes at play.

For now, this truce would have to do—a brief respite in a garden of hidden thorns.

In the quiet embrace of the garden, Eris and I sat together on a weathered stone bench, enveloped by a tranquil stillness that seemed to stretch on for eternity. The morning sun had just begun its ascent, casting dappled patterns of light and shadow upon the verdant landscape around us. The delicate fragrance of cherry blossoms lingered in the air, mingling with the earthy scent of damp soil and the distant melody of chirping birds.

For what felt like an eternity, we remained ensconced in a shared silence, each lost in our own thoughts amidst the serene beauty of our surroundings. The weight of unspoken words hung heavy between us, a silent barrier that seemed to grow with each passing moment.

As the sun climbed higher in the sky, casting long shadows across the garden, I could no longer bear the oppressive weight of my thoughts in silence. The chirping of birds and the rustling of leaves seemed to mock my inner turmoil, urging me to break free from the suffocating grip of my fears.

Finally, unable to endure the silence any longer, I mustered the courage to speak. "Eris?" The sound of my voice was barely more than a whisper, carried away on the gentle breeze that caressed the garden.

At the sound of his name, Eris stirred from his contemplative reverie, his eyes slowly opening to meet mine. There was a fleeting moment of recognition in his gaze, as if he had been expecting this interruption all along.

He regarded me with a cool detachment, a silent question lingering in the depths of his gaze. It was as though he were silently urging me to articulate the thoughts that had weighed so heavily upon my mind.

Summoning all of my courage, I pressed on, knowing that his patience was not limitless. "I need to speak with you," I said, my voice steadier now, though the weight of my confession hung heavy in the air.

For a moment, there was silence between us once more, the only sound the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze. Then, with a subtle nod of acknowledgment, Eris inclined his head, granting me permission to unburden myself of the secrets that had long weighed upon my soul.

(Calanmai, Fifteen Weeks Ago)

The night of Calanmai unfolded like a grand spectacle, a symphony of sights and sounds that swept through the Spring Court like wildfire. In the heart of the courtyard, beneath a sky ablaze with stars, I found myself ensnared in a whirlwind of tradition and temptation, drawn inexorably towards a destiny I could not yet fathom.

As the festivities reached their crescendo, a hush fell over the gathered throng, anticipation crackling in the air like static electricity. All eyes turned to the dais at the center of the courtyard, where Lucien Vanserra, with his mane of fiery hair and eyes that glinted like shards of emerald, stood poised to perform the Rite—the ancient ritual that ensured the flow of natural magic within the Spring Court.

I watched from the edge of the crowd, my heart pounding in rhythm with the pulsating beat of the drums that echoed through the night. Beside me, Ianthe, with her golden locks and beguiling smile, whispered honeyed words in Lucien's ear, her intentions veiled behind a facade of innocence and charm.

But I knew the truth—the truth that lurked beneath the surface, like a serpent coiled in the shadows, waiting to strike. And so, with a courage born of desperation and defiance, I stepped forward, offering myself as a sacrifice to protect Lucien from the machinations of those who sought to use him as a pawn in their deadly game.

Lucien's eyes widened in surprise and disbelief, his gaze searching mine for the truth hidden beneath the surface. And in that moment, I saw the flicker of gratitude and something deeper—a spark of hope amidst the darkness that threatened to engulf us both.

Together, we slipped away from the crowd, seeking refuge in the sanctuary of the forest that bordered the Spring Court. In the darkness, illuminated only by the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the canopy above, we found solace in each other's arms, our bodies moving in a dance of desperation and desire.

With hesitant hands, Lucien reached out to me, his touch tentative yet determined. There was a solemnity in his gaze, a silent acknowledgment of the sacrifice we were both willing to make in the name of saving the Spring Court from impending doom. Each movement was deliberate, as if he were navigating uncharted waters, unsure of what lay ahead.

As he undressed me, his fingers trailed feather-light over my skin, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. The air crackled with anticipation, heavy with the weight of unspoken words and unfulfilled desires. There was a raw intensity to our connection, a primal need that pulsed beneath the surface, driving us forward even as we teetered on the edge of uncertainty.

Our kisses were slow and languid, each one a silent plea for understanding, for absolution. And as our bodies moved together in a dance as old as time itself, I felt a sense of surrender wash over me, a letting go of the fears and doubts that had plagued me for so long.

With each touch, each caress, we explored the depths of each other's souls, seeking solace in the midst of chaos. And as he spilled his essence inside me, there was a sense of release, a letting go of the burdens that had weighed so heavily upon us.

In the aftermath, we lay entwined beneath the moonlit sky, our breaths mingling in the stillness of the night. There was a peace in that moment, a fleeting respite from the storm that raged around us. And as we lay there, lost in each other's arms, I couldn't help but wonder what the future held for us—for the Spring Court, for our people.

But such thoughts were for another time, another place. In that moment, there was only us, two souls bound together by circumstance and necessity, seeking solace in the midst of turmoil.

"What is it, little fox?" Eris's voice, gentle yet tinged with curiosity, pierced the tranquil stillness of the autumnal garden, drawing me from the depths of my reverie. The morning sun, a soft orb of golden light, filtered through the crimson leaves of the ancient oak tree under which we sat, casting a warm glow over the secluded corner of the courtyard.

Eris reclined on the stone bench with an air of effortless grace, his features masked in an enigmatic veil of indifference. His gaze, like liquid mercury, bore into mine with an intensity that sent shivers down my spine, as if he could discern the turmoil that churned within me with unsettling ease.

For a moment, I hesitated, the weight of my confession heavy upon my tongue, like stones in a riverbed. The memory of Lucien, his absence a haunting specter in my heart, mingled with the uncertainty of what lay ahead, casting shadows over the fragile sanctuary we had found amidst the autumnal splendor.

Yet, despite the tempest of emotions that threatened to engulf me, there was an undeniable pull, a magnetic force that drew me inexorably towards Eris, compelling me to lay bare the truth that simmered beneath the surface.

"I—" I began, my voice trembling like the leaves that danced in the breeze, the words caught in the tangled undergrowth of my uncertainty. With a trembling hand, I reached for my tiny bump, a silent testament to the life growing within me, the fragile thread that bound me to a future fraught with peril.

"Eris… I'm scared," I confessed, the admission hanging heavy in the crisp autumn air, a fragile offering of vulnerability laid bare before him. Tears welled in my eyes, their crystalline trails reflecting the kaleidoscope of emotions that churned within me, a tempest threatening to tear me asunder.

It was a truth I had not yet found the courage to share, the truth about my unborn child, about Lucien, about the tangled web of emotions that threatened to ensnare me in their grasp. And yet, as I spoke the words aloud, I felt a sense of liberation wash over me, as if the act of vocalizing my fears had lifted a burden I had long carried in silence.

“I know,” Eris continued after a moment, his voice tinged with a quiet sadness. “When my mother would give birth, my father would have meetings with his counsel and continue about court like nothing important was happening, too caught up in his ambition to even consider loving her. He would leave her to suffer alone, to be in pain, awful pain, alone, while she brought his children into this world,” he took a breath, watching the branches of the great tree sway before looking back to the fountain sitting before us, water streaming softly and glinting in the light of the sun.

“So, once I was old enough to see how wrong it was, I joined her in the birthing rooms. I didn’t care how many times a nurse advised me against it, how much I was beaten afterwords by my father. It wasn’t about any of that. It was about her, it was about not being alone in a time of need, to not be consumed by darkness without a twinkle of light. My mother deserved better. Still does,” Eris sighs, resting his warm hand atop mine on the bench, giving it a small squeeze. “I can not promise profection, I can not promise relief, and I can not promise life, but I can promise that you will not walk in the darkness alone, that I will be right there, by your side as you scream and claw and cry until your babe joins this world. Just as I did for my mother.”

As he spoke, his warm hand found mine on the bench, offering a reassuring squeeze that spoke volumes more than words ever could. "I can't promise perfection," he continued, his gaze steady and unwavering. "I can't promise relief, or even life itself. But I can promise that you won't walk through the darkness alone. I'll be there, by your side, every step of the way."

As the last words of our shared confessions lingered in the air, the atmosphere seemed to soften, infused with a sense of understanding and acceptance. The ancient oak tree above us rustled gently, its branches swaying in a silent dance with the breeze, as if nature itself bore witness to the fragile bond we had formed in this secluded corner of the autumnal garden.

In that moment of quiet introspection, my gaze fell upon a delicate forget-me-not that had nestled itself amidst the fallen leaves at the base of the oak tree. Its petals, a soft shade of blue tinged with hues of violet, seemed to shimmer in the dappled sunlight, a beacon of fragility and resilience amidst the earthy backdrop of the garden.

A sense of recognition washed over me as I regarded the flower, its presence a poignant reminder of the vulnerability we had both shared in this fleeting moment of connection. Like the delicate bloom that dared to flourish amidst the harsh realities of autumn, we too had found strength in our shared vulnerability, forging a bond that transcended the barriers of fear and uncertainty.

With a gentle smile, I reached out to pluck the forget-me-not from its resting place, cradling it in the palm of my hand as a symbol of the bond we had forged amidst the chaos of our intertwined destinies. And as I turned to meet Eris's gaze, I knew that in this fleeting moment of shared vulnerability, we had found not only solace but hope, blooming like the delicate forget-me-not that dared to thrive amidst the changing seasons of our lives.

TAGLIST

@purple-writer8 @defnotlucienvanserra @cherry-cin @julesofvolterra @mirandasidefics @mandziaaa @lilah-asteria @littlestw01f @skylarkalchemist @babypeapoddd

#fanfic #x reader #angst #acomaf #acotar #acourtofthornsandroses #acowar #acosf #tamlin #tamcien #tamlin acotar #acotar au #lucien vanserra #lucien acotar #lucien x reader #elain x lucien #pro lucien #acotar art #acotar fanart #lucien vandaddy #eris masterlist #eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris x reader #eris vandaddy #eris x oc #lucien #lady of autumn #beron vanserra #pregnant

[wolfoftheblackflames]

Heya Misfits! I've decided to write a quickie for ya. It just clicked in my mind, and I'm recovering from a cold, so what better way to get my creative juices flowing than with some fluffy cuteness.

Body Swap, Chaggie Style:

Charlie and Vaggie have a massive fight, Lucifer wanted the girls to stop fighting, so he shoots them with magic like a kid yelling at his friends and yelling, "Stop fighting!"

It was the start of a sad morning. A huge fight between Charlie and Vaggie caused the two to sleep in different rooms, making the others worried. Lucifer, being the sweet dad he is, decided to do some magic to ‘help’ the girls make up.

“Hmm?” Charlie awoke feeling heavier than normal. She dragged her figure out of bed only to go face first into the carpet. “Ow!” She groaned, rubbing her nose, but blinked, feeling a more angular nose than her usual black button nose. The princess started to panic and went to the bathroom mirror. “WHAT IN SATAN?!”

On the other end, Vaggie grumbled, sitting up rubbing her eyes, but when she opened them, she blinked. “What?” She could see out of both. However, that wasn't the only thing. She felt heat surging through her body, plus she felt something weird with her feet. “Aye meirda?!” She gasped once she moved the covers and saw red hooves.

Both girls stared at the mirrors, each seeing the other, Charlie saw Vaggie looking tired, as she saw the dark circles under her girl's lone eye. While Vaggie saw those beautiful ruby eyes puffy and swollen with the latter not bothering with switching to her red pajamas.

The fight played on in their minds, Vaggie had spiraled again with her self worth issues as yesterday had been particularly bad, and Charlie was too busy planning for the new hotel to recognize her girlfriend needed her.

Charlie felt the phantom pains act up and blinked wincing. “Fuck…” Her body trembled. “Oh Vaggie, why did I ignore you when you were in this much pain? Then again you always did know how to hide it..” She sighed lightly stroking the old scarring where Vaggie's eye used to be.

Vaggie in Charlie's body felt the stress and massive flux of emotions the princess had to deal with, plus the ever present demonic form that ached to come out, which red horns and a tail did peek through. “Charlie..” Vaggie sighed though blinked seeing the massive scribble pile on Charlie's desk. Carefully as to not burn any she peered over and stared. Surely enough it was so many apology notes with tear stains, drawn in many colors. Vaggie smiled a little, however her eyes widened seeing something under the notes, a small box labeled ‘For Vaggie, with love Charlie.’

“Better not, I can't seem to control what I set on fire..” Vaggie sighed with another fire coming onto the couch this time. “Shit!”

However when she was extinguishing said fire, she saw her own body come into view. “Oh uh hi..” Vaggie blinked, looking a little messy.

What happened next was Charlie tackling Vaggie and hugging her tight, and sure enough she looked like a cute crying mess. “I'm so sorry!” It was weird hearing her own voice as Vaggie blinked realizing how small she must look to Charlie.

It felt weird, yet Vaggie couldn't stop a demonic purr from escaping. “I'm sorry too hon..” She had to bend down to hold Charlie close.

The two stayed close to one another until another fire occurred on the carpet which made Charlie giggle. “Can't handle my pyrokinesis yet huh?” She asked as Vaggie grumbled. “Deep breaths, like this.” She smiled, showing Vaggie how to control the magic and the demon.

After a couple of deep breaths, Vaggie managed to stop setting things on fire for now. “And uh, how do you put these away?” She asked, pointing to the horns and tail.

“Hmm?” Charlie blinked though her wings popped out seeing the form. “Huh?!”

This got a flustered groan from Vaggie as she hid her face. Though this made Charlie give a devilish smirk. “Before you say anything babe, yes I do think your demon form is hot okay?”

“It is weird to see myself like this, but I will say, I do look pretty hot.” Charlie giggled again. “But since you're in my body Vaggie, can you see how I view you?” She asked though she struggled to fold in the wings.

Vaggie blinked but smiled softly. “I do hermosa..” She replied feeling the rampant emotions grow calmer. Though her expression grew sad, she was about to speak when Charlie placed a finger on her lips.

“Don't be sorry ok? If anything, this little experience has helped me understand you a little more even though I thought I knew everything.” Charlie grinned despite the trembling.

Vaggie looked at her hand and flexed her fingers. “I see what you mean sweetie, but here let me help you with my wings.” She smiled moving behind Charlie who blinked curiously. “Give them a stretch. Like imagine another set of arms on your back.”

Charlie nodded and did so, she smiled, able to move them a bit better, though couldn't help but flap. “These feel so weird but also very strong..” She grinned, turning around and wrapping both her and Vaggie in a cute wing cocoon.

Vaggie felt that black tail with a red heart in the middle of its tip slink over and wrap around Charlie. “Shit, your tail has a mind of its own!”

“Sorry about that, it's just you're like my rock Vaggie, you keep me grounded when I often get swept up in my own little world..” Charlie admitted though smirked as she lightly traced the tail. “I can see why you do this, it's fun seeing me get flustered huh?” She added being cheeky.

Vaggie grumbled feeling the shiver and blush. “I'll admit yes it is, but hon you haven't told me what you see from my view.” She answered changing the subject.

“Oh right, sorry.” Charlie giggled but blew at the bangs in her face. Getting the ok, Charlie closed her eyes in deep thought, she saw the darker thoughts of the self-hate, the guilt, and the need to be useful to Charlie. It hurt seeing this but Charlie opened the lone eye and looked at Vaggie with a loving gaze.

“You ain't alone in the self hate Vaggie.” She took hold of those hands. “But you're more than what you were back then, what I see now love, is someone who gets giddy over new weapons, loves tacos, can bark orders like a sexy drill sergeant, and most of all, I see someone who cares deeply for me and for everyone in the hotel, a kind yet stern person. Seriously meeting you was the best thing that's happened in my life.” She grinned though blinked, feeling teary eyed again.

Vaggie just stared but couldn't help it and grabbed Charlie holding her close in a big hug, nuzzling deep into her neck. “Oh Charlie…” Her voice came out cracking as she just sniffled.

However magic surged as the two switched back, making both let go and blink. “Huh..”

However the girls giggled and cuddled again enjoying the new found appreciation for one another. Vaggie felt those loving hands gently massage her back when the wings were tucked back in. “Hey, I know you're strong, but whenever these flare up, please don't hide it from me..” Charlie spoke softly, her natural tone being music to Vaggie's ears.

“If that's the case, please don't try and do everything alone hon, I'm the hotel manager for a reason you know.” The smaller woman replied, moving back to look up at those ruby eyes. “I support you with everything you do, but I can't help you if I don't know what's going on babe.”

“I know. Also sorry about your nose, I uh fell onto the carpet..” Charlie gave a sheepish grin though left a gentle peck on said nose.

Vaggie smiled softly. “Well I'm sorry about setting fire to our room, and… Seeing that little box.” She replied as Charlie gasped. “No, I didn't look inside.” The angel added, making Charlie sigh in relief.

“Good cause, it is a surprise..”

“Well can I see it now?”

Charlie beamed and nodded, poofing the box into her hands. “I took up a little hobby kinda like dad did, but I'm not very good, so..” She rambled, blushing.

Vaggie blinked but opened the box. To her surprise, it was the cutest little dark grey leather pouch with wings carved into the flap. The stitches looked a little crude, but it added a handmade charm to it. “You made this..?” She looked surprised, holding it.

“Yeah… It started out as a way to keep my hands busy since I kept digging my nails into my palm..” Charlie started to ramble as she giggled. “Next thing I know, I was having fun and making things. To which my dad kept snatching up for himself because he's weird like that.”

Vaggie planted a soft kiss on those lips to show her appreciation. “It's beautiful, hon, thank you..” The kiss made Charlie flutter, and she gave a love struck gaze.

The princess smirked and started to spoil Vaggie some more as things started to lead to the two getting hot and heavy. The hotel was fine. Sure, they can get in a fun love making session, right? After all, make-up sex is the best part of making up with your lover. Plus, Charlie wanted nothing more than to get her hands on her gorgeous girlfriend, and Vaggie couldn't help but indulge her since she craved that loving touch.

Thus the day went by in the new hotel, love was in the air once more as downstairs, Lucifer looked quite pleased with himself even if the spell was kinda a spur of the moment to get the girls to stop fighting. Though in his room, when he went to his closet, all the cute little leather objects Charlie made had come piling out, burying his royal ass alongside his massive rubber duck collection.

#hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #vaggie #chaggie #cute as fuck #starmoth #fluff #hurt/comfort #hazbin hotel fanfictions #rainbowspear #rainbowangel #hazbin lucifer

[lionlena]

Headcanon: Marcus tells you about his meeting with Teresa...(MarcusPikexf!reader)

Since you liked the first part so much, I decided to add something more to this situation. Domestic fluff.

On the way back home, your toddler's mouth wouldn't close. You watched in awe as Marcus listened to everything patiently while driving the car.

At home, as promised, a delicious dinner was waiting for you.

And you didn't have to worry about anything. Marcus even took care of your son's evening routine. He bathed him, helped him brush his teeth, and read him a bedtime story.

You knew he was a great father to your son. And soon he will also be the perfect daddy for your little daughter.

You were just finishing applying lotion to your pregnant belly when Marcus walked into the bedroom. He looked so comfortable in a t-shirt and sweatpants. And yet it didn't escape you that he was a little tense. You noticed it at the station.

Marcus looked at you tenderly and sat down next to you with a quiet sigh. You immediately grabbed his hand and asked:

"Have you had a hard time at work?"

"No… It was actually fine. Why do you ask?"

"Because you seemed tense at the station and then on the way home."

Marcus immediately felt his heart warm. You knew him so well that you noticed even the slightest change in his mood.

"It's about that woman you asked about."

You frowned and had to remember. This woman was so insignificant to you that you had already forgotten about her.

"The one with the sour face… What's wrong with her?"

"It was Teresa… Teresa Lisbon."

You immediately sighed, understanding who this woman was.

"Oh, baby… I'm so sorry."

You placed your hand on his cheek.

Marcus smiled warmly and placed his hand on yours.

"I'm not sad… That's not the point. My broken heart was healed a long time ago thanks to you."

He turned his face to the side and kissed your hand.

"So what is it about?"

"She upsetting me. She acted like I was some backup boyfriend she could always go back to… I should have said so many rude things to her…" A hint of anger crossed his face as he remembered her inviting him out for a drink. "I should have screamed in her face that I have the greatest wife in the world and that I would be a complete idiot if I left you for someone like her… But…" He sighed heavily. "I was so shocked I didn't do it."

His confession touched you. This is your husband. Your beloved Marcus, who always wanted to tell the whole world how much he loves you. You knew that on his desk at the FBI office, he kept your wedding photo, a photo of all three of you, and, recently, a photo of ultrasound. (He will probably add a photo of your newborn daughter soon.)

You cupped his face in your hands and said calmly.

"Honey, your actions are much louder than your screams. Believe me… Teresa saw it all perfectly. She saw a loving husband and father. A man who has everything. Family, love, job, and future."

Marcus smiled widely and kissed you on the lips. Your words gave him so much comfort. But after a while, the worry returned.

"You are not angry at me?"

"For what, darling?"

"That I didn't tell you right away."

You shook your head. You really didn't feel angry. You understood why he didn't tell you right away.

"It wasn't the right time there at the train station. I know you didn't want to hide it from me."

Marcus kissed your hand and nodded.

"Exactly. I just wanted to take you home as soon as possible and enjoy you, not talk about someone who really is nobody to me."

He leaned back on the pillows and pulled you closer to him. He wrapped his arms around you and kissed your head.

"Thank you for being such a wonderful wife and always being able to put my mind at ease. I love you, my love."

"And I love you."

Marcus began to tenderly stroke your belly. He rested his head on yours and closed his eyes. There was no reason to worry about anything.

Teresa was a hazy memory, a woman not worthy of his heart.

Now he had everything in his arms, his whole world. And he wasn't going to lose it.

Pernament tag list: @harriedandharassed

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #marcus pike #marcus pike headcanon #marcus pike x reader #the mentalist #teresa lisbon #Marcus deserves the world #domestic fluff

[rarityroo]

Hi there!! Is there anyway where we could get a Ragatha x reader. Where the reader comforts Ragatha who starts to feel somewhat unappreciated by some of the other members of the circus. Maybe the reader could give Ragatha a small present they working on just for her to show her she does have someone who cares and appreciates her. Please I just want her to feel some form of love and appreciation. She is legit such a sweat heart and I wanna tell her how amazing she is.😭😭😭

Giving thanks

Ragatha x Gn!reader

Hi! This seems like such a great idea, I literally stayed up until 1AM to finish it. I agree Ragatha is such a sweetie she deserves the best, also in this fic she has a small mental breakdown but it’s all okay because the reader is a sweetheart. Enjoy!

A simple thank you would have been enough, that's all she wanted. She wanted the others to finally notice all the mental and physical help she gave. The comfort she provided to Pomni when she first arrived, whenever Gaggle's mask broke because Jax made the trip. Ragatha always made sure to help. When Zooble or Kinger were having a rough day she’d take time out of her day just to make them feel better. She never minded doing it, until now at least.

Ragathas posture was slumped with tiredness and her shoulders were stiff showing her stress. She sat in her room contemplating, she felt so out of it. All she wanted was for someone to notice the effort she offered every day.

You could tell Ragatha was distressed, at first you thought she just felt like being quiet, you had days like that yourself but today felt different she seemed somewhat depressed. Her pretty smile gone and her chipper attitude deflated. It made you sad to see her that way, you hoped a small gift would lift her spirits, a red paper flower, it was a similar red to her hair and just thinking about it made a small smile grow on your face. But first, you wanted to make sure she was okay, she was the backbone of this circus and God knows without her we would all be lost.

You made your way to her room hesitantly flower in hand and approached her room quietly, you softly knocked on the door, not to startle her. "Hey, Ragatha," you said softly, your voice holding concern.

You heard a muffled shuffle in the room, then her door slightly opened, only being able to see part of her face, "Oh, uh hello," she murmured awkwardly, forcing a weary smile.

"I noticed you've been off lately," You said, gently “Are you alright?” You asked, it felt like such a silly question, clearly, she wasn’t alright she’d been avoiding everyone all day.

“I-um well-“ Ragatha stumbled over her words, nobody had asked her that in a while, that thought alone hit her like a title wave of emotions. She started to break down, and through broken sobs, she barely choked out, “I just, I’ve been doing so much and no one has shown an ounce of gratitude!" “I’ve done so much and it feels like it’s for nothing, no matter what I do it’ll never be noticed…” You looked at her with wide eyes, is this really how she felt this whole time? How could you not notice? “Ragatha..” you use your hand to push up her chin so she can look you in the eyes. “I hear you. It's completely understandable that you're feeling this way. Trust me when I say your kindness and support haven't gone unnoticed, even if it may have seemed that way. We all rely on you more than you might realize, and your efforts haven't gone unappreciated. You're not alone in this, and I'm here to support you, just like you've supported everyone else.", “Here, I have a gift for you.” You said bashfully, “I know it’s not the prettiest thing in the world but I was hoping it was enough to make you feel a bit better.”

With trembling fingers, Ragatha carefully took the paper flower. Tears welled up in her eyes as she realized the effort that went into it. Finally, even if it was as small as this it was still so perfect.

"It's... it's beautiful," she managed to choke out, her voice thick with emotion.

You smiled warmly. "I wanted to express my gratitude for everything you do," "You're always there for others, offering comfort and support. Your kindness hasn't gone unnoticed, Ragatha."

Ragatha's heart swelled with warmth as she looked at the gift in her hands. At that moment, she felt a wave of adoration wash over her, lifting the weight of loneliness from her shoulders.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. "Thank you for seeing me, for hearing me, for understanding."

As Ragatha looked at the thoughtful gift before her, "It’s so lovely," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “Something you both got in common" you replied, God that was embarrassingly sappy, Ragatha let out a sweet laugh, leaning in closer, your eyes locked on hers. "Seriously though please know that I care about you, Ragatha. More than you'll ever know."

Ragatha's breath caught in her throat as she felt the warmth of your hand on hers, her heart racing with nervousness. "I... I care about you too," she finally admitted, a shy smile spreading across her face.

She finally had someone who cared, someone who appreciated her for the kind-hearted soul she was.

And in that simple gesture of kindness, Ragatha found the love and appreciation she had been yearning for all along.

#the amazing digital circus #the amazing digital circus ragatha #ragatha x reader #tadc ragatha x reader #ragatha x reader tadc #ragatha x reader the amazing digital circus #the amazing digital circus x reader #the amazing digital circus fanfiction #tadc x reader #tadc

[male-fictioner]

I Want You Back

Pairing: Yandere ex-bf Zac Efron x male reader

Category: Yandere

Warnings: stalking, possessive behavior, spying, manipulation, that's it ig

Word Count: 1.1k +

A/n: I had this sitting in my drafts for the longest of times, I finally had to write it. I'm not very good at writing yandere content, as I never have written in before. But I hope you like it.

You had met Zac a long time ago through some mutual friend. At that time you didn't know how things would end up. You and Zac quickly became friends and very close and soon you realised that you might have found someone you love. 

When Zac asked you out you couldn't have been happier. You were over the moon and had a perfect date. This was 4 years ago and within a while, you had made it official with each other. 

The relationship had been great for all the while you two dated. You did not have any complaints and he treated you like a prince and showered you with all the love and gifts. This is why he was so surprised when you broke up with him almost six months ago. 

That decision came when you felt very restricted and tired in the relationship. Don't get me wrong Zac is amazing but you needed to just be alone for a while and he didn't understand that.

Over the last few months, you felt guilty about breaking up with Zac after how well he treated you and loved you. And also because it seemed like the universe wanted you to get back together too. 

Everywhere you would go, you would be forced to remember Zac. Like when you saw this cute teddy bear near the stairs of your apartment complex. It was exactly like the one Zac had won for you at the Arcade for one of your dates. The resemblance was uncanny and made you wonder if it was that very same one. At first you thought maybe it's the effect of breaking up a relationship that lasted 4 years but after a while rather than missing him less, you started missing him more.

Every now and then, you were made to revisit a sweet memory you shared with Zac. This made you reconsider your decision. Made you doubt yourself. Made you think whether breaking up with Zac was the right thing to do. Did you make a huge mistake? Will Zac take you back?

You still weren't sure if you wanted to get back with him. So you ended up deciding to find a quick and easy rebound. Maybe this would help you move on.

Finding a rebound was not difficult at all. Guys nowadays want a quick and NSA fuck mostly. So you hooked up with a good looking guy you found on Grindr. 

This guy was so nice and sex with him was also amazing. After Zac you really hadn't been much physically or emotionally available for anyone and this was a welcome change in your life.

After you guys hooked up, this man asked you if you wanted to go out sometime. You really liked him so you agreed for the date. 

You and him texted back and forth for a couple of days. After careful consideration for both your schedules, you decided on a date, which was a week later. 

Imagine your shock when you showed up to the venue that was discussed, after dressing up nice and sexy, the man did not show up. Not only that, he did not respond to any of your texts, or pick up your call. After waiting almost an hour, you concluded that you had been ghosted. 

Feeling sad due to you getting stood up, you started going back home dejected. And you were standing face to face with the last person you had expected to see. 

“Y/n, what are you doing here?” Zac asked, feigning surprise.

“I could ask you the same thing,” you quipped not wanting to admit you were almost on a date.

“Well I was just passing by. But you look really nice. Very handsome. So naturally I'm curious.” He raised his arms to show that he did not mean to grill me or something. 

“I had a date, but he stood me up.” You admitted rather sheepishly remembering how Zac never made you wait. 

“He must be a fool to miss out on a date with you. I would give anything for that opportunity.” He replied earnestly. 

Seeing him and listening to his words made you feel more guilty. “I missed you,” you whispered, just loud enough for him to hear. All your thoughts and strength went away after realising how much you had missed your ex boyfriend after the break up.

“I miss you all the time,” he confessed. This made your heart melt a little. “Did you have dinner?” 

You just shook your head to indicate ‘no’. 

“Would you like to have dinner with me?” Zac asked, hopeful that you would say yes.

You just replied, “It's a date,” and dragged him along to the closest restaurant.

Over dinner, you discussed everything, including your reason for leaving him. Zac promised to make an effort to better understand your feelings and wants. You promised to let him know if it got too much so he can dial down a little. And with the help of clear and truthful communication, you both got back together.

Well truthful communication on your side at least. Because Zac had been keeping a secret from you that he was sure he would take it to his grave.

The secret was regarding how he got you. All those coincidences that led to this serendipitous moment, were no work of fate at all. They were all in the plot of the mastermind Zac Efron. 

You finding the teddy bear that looked exactly like the one you had from the arcade was because Zac kept it there. He had to go all around the town to find that exact teddy. He had memorised your schedule and positioned the teddy bear exactly in a place where you would spot him right away at the perfect time when you would be coming home from work. He also knew that you wouldn't be able to abandon such a cute teddy bear, you just would take it home with you. And what you could never know is that this seemingly harmless teddy bear was fitted with a camera and microphone by which Zac had been able to keep an eye on his darling and make sure he is safe. And if he needed to beat anyone up if you brought them home with you (which you didn't, making Zac believe that you still love him). 

The fact that he could jerk off to your naked body was just an added benefit. He could see all your actions and he did not believe it to be wrong because he was just taking care of you. 

Every time you would see something related to Zac, it was because he had planned it that way. And he was glad he did because he finally got to have you back.

Now that he had you, he planned to never let you go away from him. No matter how far he had to go.

Your feedback and comments are highly appreciated. Also my requests are open!!

#male reader #x male reader #male x reader #fanfic #rpf #actor #actor rpf #zac efron #zac #efron #male!reader #male insert #yandere #tw stalking #possessive #spying #manipulation #smut #fluff

[henrioo]

°•*⁀➷ THE BIG CROCO BROTHER: CROCODILE

꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : "Being a father was not easy, imposing limits was necessary and no matter how cute his face was, that of the Crocodile's only son, he couldn't allow you to do whatever you wanted... Especially when you're running around with three deadly wild animals."

꒰ WARNINGS ꒱ : PLATONIC RELATIONSHIP! NON ROMANCE, Father and Son! Male reader! Child reader! Soft dad Crocodile! Cross guild! Savage animals (bananawani), the reader has a powerful man in his control (his own dad)

꒰ WC ꒱ : 1k

꒰ NOTES ꒱ : And here I'm again, trying to post again and idk, nothing much to say today, my mood is horrible and my life sucks, but here some family fluffy to see if that motivates me to write again. Also the names of the wani are terrible because my discord friends choose them lol hahahah blank/no pronouns/fem=block

Crocodile was listening to Mihawk talking about the latest news he had gotten on his last trip, Buggy was looking at some maps that his henchmen had given him and the lizard himself was looking at the management papers of that entire alliance. At least now it was working a little better and giving more profit than headaches, but Crocodile still refused to accept that a circus really had so many needs and needed such a big budget just for those pathetic shows... that clown was probably deceiving.

“FUCK!” Buggy shouted, making the dark-haired man snap out of his reverie and try to figure out what the shouting was about.

It was then that he saw a peculiar scene that had curiously been repeated a lot in the last few days. One of the baby bananawani was biting Buggy's leg, another seemed to be eager to eat the clown's colorful papers and the third and last was trying... no, he was begging for a lap to the strongest swordsman in the world who simply stared at him without reaction.

You see, being a parent is extremely difficult. Being a father and being a pirate with a young son and with Crocodile's current situation is even more so, he wouldn't want that to be the case but he really managed to be quite absent, he tried to make up for it by spoiling you and the problem was that he spoiled you a bit too much. You weren't a bad or rude child, but you simply faithfully believed that you could have the world at your feet if you asked your father nicely. Of course you could, but it wasn't good for your ego to be completely sure of it.

So, in a way of trying to teach you some good values like responsibility and any other nonsense, he left you in charge of taking care of three bananawani babies. You needed to feed them, take them out of the water tank, clean the tank, all the normal activities of a normal pet. With the difference that your pets were deadly creatures even as babies and were more than ready to rip off some arms for your protection.

“(Y/n), what did we talk about getting them out of the tank?” Crocodile sighed, this wasn't the first time the babies had wandered around the ship instead of being safe in their water tanks. He can still hear the cries of the henchmen who received unexpected bites because their pets were out of control.

“I’m sorry daddy” you said entering the room, you quickly went to the baby in Mihawk and picked him up. Not completely up since that single bananawani baby must have been heavier than you, so you just held him the best you could with his entire lower part dragging on the floor.

Buggy whimpered trying to pull the baby off his leg which only made him bite harder, causing the clown to scream again. Crocodile sighed and got up to help you deal with the mess.

“They’re still too young to wander around alone, they’ll just create trouble” he tried to convince you again.

“But... Miss Banana Split was sad” you said worriedly as you looked at the lizard in your arms who was smiling happily like a baby in his parents arms. Crocodile could feel Mihawk's eyes on him from the animal's name but he decided to ignore it.

“They are sweet animals, they don’t get sad” he tried to convince you, ruffling your hair.

“Of course they stay! Mr. Banana even whines!” You said with a huge hurt pout, heavens you really loved those animals...

“Look at feelings, I don’t know, but this pest is really hungry and is about to swallow my leg, so if you can have a father-son moment another time, I’d appreciate it!” Buggy screamed desperately, shaking his leg again, trying to free the animal, but in vain.

“Sorry, Mr. Buggy… Drake is eating too much these days…” you said, releasing the one in your arms and going to take the other one off the clown’s leg. Luckily the animal was happy to be picked up by you and easily released its prey.

“Drake?” Buffy looked at you perplexed, was that the fucking name you chose?

“Don’t you dare” Crocodile growled at him as if he could read his thoughts. It was a clear message, make my son ashamed of the names he chose and you will become real bananawani food.

“They like being close to you daddy” you said petting Drake who was rubbing against you, the other two cubs at Crocodile’s feet.

“Of course they do, I was there when they were born, that doesn't mean you can let them loose like that” he crouched down to your height “They're still cubs and without training, you won't find it fun if they actually eat someone's leg would you?” Crocodile would find it hilarious, but you were a good-hearted child so you just shook your head “See? So for now let’s keep them in the tank and teach them some tricks, if they can behave you can spend more time with them, okay?”

"Okay!" You smiled happily at the possibility of continuing the walk with your animals, without waiting any longer you picked up Drake and dragged him out of the room, followed by the other two animals.

Crocodile sighed, satisfied that you would obey him for now, at least this way he would stop hearing the clown crying.

“Drake? Seriously? What the fuck is that name? For a bananawani!” Buffy said shocked once you were far enough away, he wasn't even paying attention to the ruined maps.

“Shut up…” your father would also love to know where you got that name from but that was an answer that not even you had.

“I actually found Miss Banana Split quite charming” Mihawk said with a cocky grin at Crocodile who just snorted, getting annoyed. He didn't mind having a son as his weakness, but having that weakness exposed and made fun of was something he hadn't gotten used to yet.

“Go back to work” he said irritably, just wanting to pretend that none of that had happened.

#one piece x reader #one piece imagine #one piece x you #one piece x male reader #x male reader #imagines #trans male reader #male reader #male x male #one piece x male child reader #x male child reader #one piece x child reader #x child reader #child!reader #crocodile x male reader #crocodile x child reader #crocodile x son reader #male imagines #friendly boys imagine blog #boys blog only

[rosedragonblast]

This bitch makes me go from Asexual to Doubtsexual, so here is my take about how, imo, Melinoe and Zagreus can properly meet each other.

Hades sits upon his throne, finally feeling a bit of relief. His heart beating slowly, tension disappearing into the air. There is still a lot to be done, a lot of things to be put in place.

Some of the gods are still trapped, unable to break free of the chains which Chronos and his minions casted upon the realm. But, even so. With much arrogance, the Titan stated that his chains are not to be broken by any godly creature. Yet, Melinoe found a way. Her stubbornness, combined with wit, sharp mind and compassion promised to bring a beam of light into this dark world in it's worst times.

House of Hades stands strong still, among the demon spawn who try to brake in, desperate to free their master. In the dark depths of the Underworld itself, somewhere where only Chaos may reach, stands a prison, which now serves as a permanent place of rest for the Titan of Time himself. Chronos screams into the void, but only turning it to the music of victory for one young goddess.

She stares into the darkness. Not scared, joyous or sad. Tired, but satisfied. Her purpose, her life-long dream of vengeance. Finally coming true before her own eyes, by her own hand. A feeling, sweeter than anything nectar could provide, lingers on the tongue. It's not how Melinoe imagined it, but she can't complain. If the fates so decided, it's not her place to argue about the taste of her triumph.

The goddess stretches herself, rubbing her hand and turning around. Coming out of the pits of the Underworld, feeling a hard floor under her burning feet, Mel lets herself adjust again, before making a few steps forward.

Hades, already deep in his work, notices his daughter. He feels her more than sees her. Turning his head, the God of the Dead looks at her with a hint of soft expression.

— Are you feeling well, Melinoe?

— I'm quite well, father. Just...Tired, i suppose. There is still a lot of blood of the Surface running through those veins. I need to adjust, heal. But all will be fine, I know it. Nothing shall stop me from completing my quest.

— Don't rush, daughter, — Hades sighs, his face shifting into slight concern. — You shouldn't go at it alone. Now, that you have support of the House, of Hekate and your associates, you shall lean more into their help. I think they'll be happy to oblige.

— I think I shall choose my own path in regards to finishing off Chronos' forces. But, thank you for the concern, father. I really should let myself breathe out for a bit.

Hades puts his hands against the table. Melinoe adjusts her hair, going further into the House. Something always rings, sounds and bangs in here. Souls moving along, some of the workers getting head first into their work. Melinoe goes out of the way, going towards the river Stix.

A pair of green and red eyes look at her from the reflection. Mel leans into the railing, as if trying to ask something of the red water. She listens. And it answers.

Hearing a faint whisper, guiding her up the stream, Melinoe hesitates. Another one of Chronos' tricks? Doesn't seem like it. The titan shouldn't have such an influence on the realm to affect the waters of the Stix to such an extent. Thinking for just a bit, Mel braces herself, closes her eyes and lets her body fall into the water.

Hearing distant gasps, the princess looks around. If feels...Like home. The water doesn't reject. It embraces, with all the arms of the dead swimming through. Melinoe holds her breath, trying to hear the whisper again.

It catches up to her. Louring her away. Feeling like she has to catch a breath, the goddess sees something familiar. A figure frozen in time. It holds up a sword, as if it's trying to fight an unseen foe. Opening her eyes wider, Mel reaches out. Further and further in, the water becomes thicker. It almost stops, barely holding on. Melinoe makes a final effort to grab the silhouette, her fingers holding onto their clothes.

Suddenly feeling herself being pulled up, Melinoe swings the frozen body into her arms.

Stix spits them out in a flash, with goddess gasping for air and coughing out the red liquid. Catching her breath, Mel sits up, trying to fill her lungs with the much needed cold air of the Underworld. Turning around, taking in another breath, she opens her eyes even wider, flapping her wet eyelashes.

Zagreus, laying on his back, stares into the seeling, as if he's trying to understand if it's another part of his endless dream. Melinoe goes closer, leaning over the god of blood. Zag rubs his eyes open, seeing a mirrored pair of red and green. Mel gifts him with a very soft smile, knowing exactly who she's staring at.

— Who is this water-drenched goddess, if I may ask?

— Your little sister, I suppose.

— You seem a little too big to be a little sister.

Melinoe laughs. She smiles just like their mother does. Zag pauses for a second, seeing Mel's beautiful, relaxed face surrounded by lights, created by fire lamps.

— Silly.

Mel leans closer, leaving a gentle kiss on her older brother's forehead.

#hades 2 #hades ii #hades game #hades supergiant #zagreus #melinoe #melinoë #those two are living in my head rent free #give mel some family love #poor thing can't even joke properly #death to chronos #hades

[satureja13]

Ji Ho's Therapy Game - Part 1

Oh! It seems Ji Ho is really Princess Jihovere! And she lives in a beautiful castle! In the princess' tower at that 🏰

She has a huge bathroom there! Anything a mermaid princess could wish for was there. Fluffy towels, scented essences and cute toys. (And it seems both, Jack and Ji Ho, have a way better ingame experience that poor Vlad ^^')

How cute Ji Ho looks :3

The Princess dressed and went up to the top of the tower to take a look around. Such a beautiful world!

Her next quest is to dine with the Queen! She's already awaiting the princess. (The dresscode in the castle seems to be mintgreen+white ^^')

Such an amazing castle! Ji Ho doesn't know where to look first! Ji Ho and Noxee hadn't much to do with each other in the past and since The Queen doesn't know Ji Ho ingame, it's even more intimidating.

Ji Ho doesn't even know if the Queen is a good or evil character. From what Ji Ho knows about fairytales is, that the Queen/Mother-in-law ist mostly evil and jealous of the younger and prettier princess ö.Ö' Maybe this therapy experience isn't as amazing as it seems? Plus: Lou mentioned that, after Prince Caleb and Princess Jihovere are married, The Queen will have to leave and Caleb will be King... Maybe marrying The Prince wasn't the challenge in this game but staying alive?

Ji Ho decided to adress it right away. This is just a game and he's determined to make good progress so he can finally dig out his buried feelings so he can love Vlad. Ji Ho: "Won't it be hard for you to retreat after Caleb becomes King?"

The Queen: "Oh my precious, don't you worry! This is just a constitutional monarchy here and we do not have any power. It's just for the show. To be honest: It's not that desireable to have the eyes of 'our subjects' on us all the time. They have more power over us than we over them ^^' Many are just lurking until we take a false step and: off the head! I can't wait to return to my own little queendom." The Queen sighed and looked a bit sad.

But soon she smiled again, the show must go on. She's a real pro. The Queen: "Let's finish our meal. There's still a lot to do before the wedding. You're from the Kingdom under the Sea and our habits are so different from yours. A lot to learn for you. We won't let you get roasted for not being an appropriate Queen for our King, right?" Ji Ho let out a nervous laugh: "Right, Your Royal Highness."

Princess Jihovere sat in the garden. It was calmingly quiet and so relaxing to just sit here in the sun, nothing was worrying him here. Ji Ho is determined to make the most of this experience and to cherish these reposeful moments after all the madness they had to go through. And who knows what lies in their future...

The Queen instructed the Princess to stitch a few loops. That's obviously still a valuable trait in the upper echolons of society here.

She was intrigued by the statue of a stunning man in the garden and decided to stich the beautiful face of him.

Princess Jihovere made good progress since Ji Ho enjoys stitching in the real world too.

The princess spent many hours in the garden stitching many loops of the beautiful statue. And she was very happy doing this. There's so much happening in their lives that they barely have time to sit down in peace and silence and create something just for the joy of it - and not to earn money. And the statue was so beautiful to look at. It had a very special (and oddly familiar) presence on Ji Ho. It was as if the statue was looking back at him. As if he wanted to tell him something. A real master of his art must have created it. And he must have had a very handsome model.

Meanwhile in the Throne Room, a very grumpy Throne Prince sat on the Throne. What's up with him? He's going to marry a beautiful princess!

From the Beginning  ~  Underwater Love ~  Latest Current Chapter: 🕹️ 'The One' from the beginning ▶️ here 📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 17-22 ~ 23-28

#underwater love #therapy game #the one #woo ji ho #ji ho stitching #noxeema jackson #The Castle #windenburg #windslar #the statue #sims 4 story #simlit #simblr #ts4 #sims 4 #sims 4 vanilla #sims stories #current household #the sims #sims 4 vampires #caleb vatore

[kraykraykratos]

Maybe it’s while Atreus is gone and he’s feeling admittedly lonely, but Kratos begins to spend more times with the wolves.

It started because Freya said their fur was matted and how that could lead to disease and he couldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t make them suffer like that nor would he fail his son like that. So, he begins to brush them with a comb he saw Atreus use for them once.

At first the two girls seem confused, Speki not all that happy with how rough he was at first but forgiving him quickly when he used more caution. She was as well behaved as ever after that, if not testing the man with her numerous licks.

Svanna refused to roll onto her back the first time, still not to sure on her masters father, but after feeling his gentle hands cup her maw and give a sound border lining on a coo upon her whining, she gave in. He wouldn’t approve of such sounds when they were ‘working’ but seemed to find them amusing otherwise. So, upon him bringing out the brush she would roll right over and from then on actually refused to not be that way.

Kratos also learns that Svanna prefers chicken while Speki likes deer and starts to make sure they get what they both prefer. The one time he mixed it up they both looked at him with such sad little eyes it reminded him of his son and he gave them double of their preferred meat.

Mimir would have loved to make fun of his friend when he first let the wolves into the house, breaking his own rule, but that night wasn’t the time. Kratos had awoken from a night mare with fear in his eyes and stormed out, coming back just moments later with the wolves at his side. They slept next to him on the floor and waited until he was ‘asleep’ and then jumped to cuddle up with him.

Mimir waited until a week later and it happened again, this time with him letting them have dinner isnide because it was ‘too hot for their fur outside’. Only then did he tease his brother, acting like he didn’t see him clutching the wolves fur as if it was the only thing keeping him alive.

Fur, that he also noted, was much cleaner and fluffier than it had been even before Atreus left.

#god of war #god of war ragnarok #god of war kratos #god of war atreus #god of war freya #god of war mimir #speki #svanna #kratos #atreus

[blacklegsanjiii]

I've seen an au where Zeff and Sora were siblings to here it is: ZeffSora!Siblings au

Zeff was Sora's big brother, maybe 5 or 6 years older, and he already was a pirate when Judge married Sora. He never liked the man, but if his dear sister was happy then okay.

After Sora's first pregnancy, things start to be... weird. They couldn't have much contact but still had. Things go this way during 3 years, until his sister's second pregnancy. When she's almost giving birth to the quadruplets, Zeff discovers the truth about Judge and his plans, and to poison. He gets mad, and says he will take Sora and her kids out of Germa.

But Judge discovers he knows. And makes the siblings lose contact. Zeff looks for his sister, but don't find her. He tries to move on, without know Sora give birth and her third son between the quadruplets, Sanji, is the only one who isn't a machine.

He lives with guilty for never being able to save Sora and the kids. Until 6 years later, when he receives a letter, a letter from Sora. In the letter, she tells every single thing, the fact she will die soon because of the poison, maybe less than a month after she writes the letter (Zeff is devastated after he looks the day she write this and is from months ago, Sora is dead now, this is the painfull truth). She tells about her quadruplets, the sad but hopeful fact that the poison worked, even if with only one of them.

She asks Zeff to take her boy, Sanji - the only one who isn't a machine, who has feelings and a pure heart, who funnily enough look like her - with him. Because Sora may have begged Judge to not do anything with him, but she knows the moment she will stop breathing Judge will try something. And his brothers. She tells what her other kids do with Sanji and how guilty herself feels for not being able to do anything to stop them. Sora, maybe so her big brother and her precious baby have a last picture from her, sends with the letter the last picture she and Sanji took together.

And Zeff goes to the North Blue to save the brat, he knows that there's chances Judge already did something, but if not he can still save the boy. He takes a year and half looking for Germa, and he knows Sanji probaly is almost 8 now.

When he finds Germa, he disguises himself and looks for the boy. Until he finds the kid. In a dunsheon with a helmet in his head. Anger boils inside him, and even if he wants to look for the bastard and kill him, taking the blonde out of this hell is the first thing he should do.

And he does it. He takes Sanji out without anyone noticing and makes it seems like Sanji run away himself and fell into the sea. When both are far from Germa, Sanji without the helmet, his wounds treated the best Zeff can do and eating, Zeff start to talk, thinking about telling he is the boy's uncle, until Sanji says:

"You're mom's big brother, right? She used to talk about you"

After this, they talk, Zeff says he knows what Sanji had been through and shows the letter with the photo. And yes, the kid is traumatized, but during the time he is with the man he feels... safe, safe enough to tell about the dunsheon.

Then, both are in the East Blue again (without the rock happening, thank you) and Zeff has a decision. He says that he will stop being the captain of the Cook Pirates and he will start his dream of the Baratie, he has enough money alreafy. And anyone who wants to stay with him can stay.

Between the crew, the only two who stay with Zeff are Patty and Carne, since they were the first crewmembers and knew about the letter and why Zeff go to the North Blue. And then they start the restaurant.

When the Baratie is oficially open, more than half a year after, with Sanji having 9, Zeff gifts the photo of the boy and Sora so the kid can put it in his bedroom. Garp comes to visit some time after, meeting his lover's "child". Zeff tells about the Germa thing and Garp ends up being the third person to know.

Some weeks later, Garp visits again with a idea, he can bring his grandsons! The boy needs friends, right? And his grandkids need some good time after all the thing that happened and his son bring Sabo back! Zeff knows it's a horrible idea but he can give a chance.

At the end, Sanji and the ASL brothers are playing happy outside the Baratie. Garp is saying he knows it would work.

Time pass and it's obvious how these 3 boys have a crush on Sanji. And the blonde may be his cousin but he feels like he is his son. But he knows the best he can do is give ASL a shovel talk.

Ace, Sabo and Luffy end up dating Sanji either way.

OW OKAY DAMN.

So Zeff and Sora have to be like 2/3rds of a set of siblings at least, Zeff abdicated the throne to become a pirate and go look for the All Blue. Sora was married off to Judge in an attempt to keep peace for their kingdom and as much as Zeff objects because that's his little sister, he abdicated. He has no ground to stand on technically. Sora is married off and they keep in contact through letters at the start. But then the letters start dwindling. When Zeff finds out the letters stop entirely and he's not exactly equipped to go hunt Germa down, so he tries to move on, to grieve as any big brother and pirate would. He knows he has a niece and four other niblings out there somewhere, suffering.

Then he receives one more letter from Sora, asking him to come take one of her sons, the only human of her children and that she'll be dead by the time he gets the letter. So he goes to collect the boy because by Davey Jones he will fulfill his sister's dying wish. He reads the letter over and over and imparts every little bit of information about the quadruplets, his nephews, and the elder niece he has into his brain permanently. How much love and care his sister tried to impart on them all but it only worked on his niece and the third quad, Sanji. Zeff lives with the guilt of being unable to save his sister but he gets there eventually, far too long for his and his crew's liking but they get there he disguises himself as a cook and starts working his way to the boy. It takes some time as well but eventually he gets information about where the boy is.

The dungeon. The boy is in the dungeon. Zeff has fury as he goes and finds the dungeon and the boy. The metal helmet too big for his body which is far too small for what the boy should be. Those blue eyes are unmistakable though, those are Sora's eyes.

"You're Uncle Zeff, right? My mom's brother?" The boy asks quietly as he stares at the tall man in front of him, the only thing separating them the metal bars.

"Aye, we're gonna get you outta here, Eggplant." Zeff nods and rips the doors off (COOKS ARE BUILT). Zeff gets him out and to the boat. The crew is looking at the small thing in Zeff's arms as he gives orders to sail away and get as far from Germa as possible. To have cannons ready in case worse comes to worse. They're sat with an engineer trying to pick the lock on the helmet while the doctor is treating Sanji and Zeff is telling the kid about his time as a pirate to keep the kid's mind elsewhere than what's going on with him at the moment. The kid however just looks empty as this is all going on, it's heart breaking. No one really knows what to do so Zeff tells his crew they're headed to the East Blue and Zeff is going to retire to take care of the kid, open a restaurant, settle down. It's Garp's home blue after all so he'll be able to see his boyfriend and give the kid more stability than the dungeon and Germa. He gives his crew the option of coming with him to open the restaurant or to go find new crews to join. The crew members make their decision, most leaving in Loguetown, Patty and Carne sticking with them as they go sell their ship in order to build the Baratie and get opening. Patty and Carne try to get Sanji to play but the idea scares the shit out of the kid for some reason they don't entirely know. Doesn't matter, they'll work on it. Sanji is trying to best his cook and keep up with them but when he can't and he seizes up and cries they try to calm him down and assure it's okay, he is learning, Sanji says something about how he's still a failure. They of course shut that down, Zeff especially because his sister didn't give birth to a failure, dammit! He's going to kill Judge!

When Baratie opens Zeff introduces Garp to his nephew Sanji. Garp is huge and towering like Judge and Sanji is trying to be brave and Garp mentions he has three grandsons on Dawn Island and Zeff tries to cut that train of thought off but he's gone before Zeff can stop him. Sanji is confused about what's going on Zeff and Patty and Carne grumble about the Vice Admiral still doing dumb shit and just look at Dragon. Who trusted Garp with more kids? No one should trust Garp with kids. He comes back a couple weeks later with three boys, two dark haired kids and a blond kid with a top hat, one of the dark-haired boys has a straw hat with a red band and introduces himself as Monkey D. Luffy and he's going to be the king of the pirates and is immediately thumped by the other two as Garp sighs. The other boys are introduced as Ace and Sabo and Sanji introduces himself and Ace asks why he's named three and is then thumped by Sabo. Later Zeff and Garp are alone and Zeff laments to his boyfriend about what has happened with his sister and Sanji and Garp just holds the man and lets him get his grief out.

Sanji is getting used to the boys the best he can, it's not easy after what he's been through with his birth family. He flinches a lot which makes ASL call him a wimp but they don't really understand why he is the way he is. They grew up in the jungle, what's his excuse? But when they're docked on Dawn Island at some point Zeff has kicked him off to go hang out and he meets Makino as he waits for ASL to come get him and take him to wherever they go. Makino and Sanji talk about their jobs and stuff when ASL come in and hear Sanji say his uncle basically kidnapped him to save his life. Makino has been with ASL for a while so she offers her sympathies even if she doesn't fully understand but ASL take him to the treehouse and demand more information which Sanji half gives them. They get closer over the years, to the point all three of them start claiming Sanji is their boyfriend. Zeff deals with it as best as he can, especially when Sabo dies and then comes back with amnesia and scarred to hell thanks to Dragon.

Zeff is fine. He swears it. He's just glad the kid is getting the love he didn't in Germa. It's what his sister would have wanted at least.

#black leg sanji #monkey d. luffy #portgas d ace #revolutionary sabo #redleg zeff #vinsmoke sanji #answers #straw hat luffy #fire fist ace #sabo one piece #sabosan #acesan #sanace #lusan #sanlu #red leg zeff #one piece zeff #vice admiral garp #monkey d garp #garp #one piece au #asl+s #they all date!sanji

[melbatron5000]

Heartache

Since I put up my theories that Crowley and Aziraphale faked the break up in the Final Fifteen, I've had a LOT of people comment, "Then why are they so sad?"

LISTEN.

Imagine you and the person you love most in the world have to keep your relationship secret. Because no one would approve of it, and one or the other of you could be hurt or killed or imprisoned over it. So you keep it casual, and have to pretend you're not even friends.

Then you get a chance to change everything. You get a chance to save the world, and maybe have that relationship you both want so badly together. You even plan your proposal. You throw a big party and make it as romantic as you know how.

Then your party gets crashed by people who hate you.

And then an authority -- one that has the power to make both your lives horrible and maybe end them -- comes sniffing around. He's figured out you're up to something, and that you've teamed up, and been teamed up for a while. He maybe suspects you're more than friends, when even friends is something you are not allowed to be. He essentially black mails you into coming back with him, to what essentially amounts to prison, though he offers that your love can come with you. You'll both be in prison, and maybe not be able to save the world, but you'll be together, and safe.

You tell the person you love most in the world what's going on, that your plan has been uncovered, and beg him to come with so he will be safe. And your beloved says, "No, I'm not going, I want to fight for this. I want to fight for you, and for us. I want to save the world. We need to pretend to break up so I can keep working on our plan. You do what you can from inside prison, and I'll do my best from here, and let's try for this. For us." And then he breaks your heart and forces you to reject him. While your enemy watches and waits to take you to prison. And he doesn't let you leave without kissing you first. He gives you something while he kisses you that he hopes will help you. And then he goes.

Imagine your beloved tells you an authority has come sniffing around -- he suspects you're up to something and wants to haul you both to prison. Your beloved has no choice, he absolutely is going to prison, right now, but he wants you to come with him. You want to fight, you want to be free with your beloved and you want to save the world. So you tell him you have to fake a break up in order that one of you can stay free and hopefully make it work. And then you break his heart, and force him to reject you, while your enemy watches and waits to take him to prison. And you do not let him leave without kissing him first. You give him something while you kiss him that you hope will help him. And then you leave.

If you could do that while feeling nothing, totally confident that you're still a couple and everything is actually fine, you've got a different head than me. I wouldn't be okay, watching my husband get taken to prison for the crime of being in love with me. I certainly wouldn't be okay pretending not to care, or like we never meant much to each other after all.

The break up is fake. That doesn't mean any of those emotions are.

It actually makes it worse, in my opinion.

If Aziraphale had actually chosen Heaven over Crowley, Aziraphale would be sad, but not miserable. But he hasn't. He's going to prison without the one person he most wants to protect and be with. And he has no guarantee that Crowley will be safe, or that they will ever see each other again. He must be devastated.

If Aziraphale had chosen Heaven over Crowley, Crowley would have every right to be hurt and angry. But Aziraphale hasn't. He's being dragged to prison, where Crowley can't be with him and make sure he's okay, where Crowley knows he'll be treated badly, and Crowley's going to try to save the world, and if he succeeds, they can build that life together they've wanted for so long; but if he fails, they may never see each other again. He must be devastated.

Stop asking why they both look so sad if the break up is fake.

They are devastated.

#good omens #good omens 2 #crowley #aziraphale #good omens meta #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #good omens analysis #good omens fan theory #the final fifteen #ineffable divorce #final fifteen #our poor husbands #it's so much more sad than it first seems

[robo-dino-puppy]

horizontober 2023 | 10: favorite tribe (banuk!)

#horizontober2023 #horizon zero dawn #hzd #the frozen wilds #banuk #hzd npcs #hzd song's edge #the banuk are def my favorite and i was so sad they were absent from hfw :( #the frozen wilds was suuuuuuuch a good dlc #i really loved everything about it (except getting wrecked by that first scorcher lmao) #i'm a person who would much prefer to be cold rather than hot so i'm a fan of their location #also love the color blue which they seem to favor #and love the story of banukai and the shamans and how they view the machines #their philosophy does seem a bit harsh to (soft pitiful) me but then again so is their environment #also they have some of the most badass headgear #(there are a lot more pics i would have liked to have taken but i'm not at home rn so this was done under crunch conditions lol)

[sysig]

Bad time of it, all things considered (Patreon)

#Doodles #SCII #Helix #ZEX #Blood #Just a bit but y'know - Enough #It honestly made me So sad that it took until his canonmates saw it happen that someone /finally/ acknowledged his spontaneous cuts D: #Like I get it it's dark and it's hard to see but his skin just opened up and he made a noise about it! The possible danger!! #And then by that point he's just so used to everyone ignoring it that their concern for him is barely even a factor weh ZEX ;; #Plus it's just a cool effect haha - sudden blood from nothing! Very rich mental movement #At least Max had someone concerned for him about it <3 Not that he could do anything about it but even just the validation of seeing it! #He has enough cuts on him :( Poor tenderized flesh #He gets all crabby from being sore from healing constantly haha :'D Of course he would! #One thing I found very interesting was the scar sidedness :0 Most of the examples in the gallery have his scar and missing eye opposite #But that's not necessarily the case! I actually scoured mid-read and there /are/ a couple instances of matching side! #They're very tiny so I overlooked them upon first viewing hehe ♪ But they're there! It's very interesting to me! #I like the aesthetics of the opposite - probably because I'm more used to it lol - but I can see the appeal and reasoning for the other way #I do honestly enjoy how much is open to interpretation and allowance uwu♪ And what's consistent! Like how it's always his right eye :D #That tracks hehe ♫ #Haha his meeting with his delightfully inept counselor - I'm pretty sure I was actually more angry about his supposed injury than he was #He chilled out pretty quickly while I was just - A Scratched Cornea??? The disrespect!! #So happy with his eyebrow expression on that one as well ah <3 #It really does make me curious for how the staff is kept there - they don't /seem/ malicious during the day! But they're also unaware #It's interesting where the lines of reality are between everyone :D Very interesting ♪ #Capping off with another song my playlist is looking quite healthy now hehe #Flagpole Sitta is one of those songs that only comes up for me every half dozen years or so but when it Does - phewph #It is /such/ a ZEX song to me now hehe <3 The flirtiness and exasperation - the defeatism even! So many killer lines #I think my favourite is ''I'm not sick but I'm not well'' ask me to read into that I will I'm gonna I'll do it even if you don't ask me lol #So fun to draw those lapses in control the poor dear ♥ #The digital reconstruction there was a lot of fun as well actually :D I think I nailed it :3 Pulled around from all over the page! Pleased ♪