#losing her shop her job her home her father her LIFE and yet she accepts it all bc she jsut decided to fucking love them more than anything

[frogs-in3-hills]

hi does anyone else think about april throwing herself over leo to shield him in the shredder strikes back despite having no weapons no way to defend herself and probably assuming she was going to die. does anyone think about that all the time. every day. uncontrollably

[ID: Digital fanart of Ninja Turtles 2003 depicting a scene from The Shredder Strikes Back part 2. April kneels over an injured Leo, cradling his head and looking back over her shoulder to snarl viciously at the camera, though there is obvious fear in her eyes. Her hair has partially fallen out of her bun, the loose strands sticking to her face with sweat. She has a cut on her cheek. Only a portion of Leo’s face can be seen from behind her shoulder. He looks up at her with a sad, pained expression. He has a swollen, bloody shiner on his cheek in addition to other cuts and bruises on the rest of his body. They are on the wooden floor of a dark attic. End ID.]

#she’s so protective of her fambly man….. i think she should have gotten to call that wasp a bitch in ‘‘april’s artifact’’ #anyway. #you ever think about how in almost every version befriending the turtles leads to april having these huge moments of loss #losing her shop her job her home her father her LIFE and yet she accepts it all bc she jsut decided to fucking love them more than anything #take my hand. do you think about it…… #tmnt #tmnt 03 #tmnt 2k3 #tmnt 2003 #april o'neil #leonardo tmnt #silly sully art #described #cw blood #she rlly asked is anyone going to adopt these weird turtle children and then didn’t wait for an answer

[cloudberry-sims]

A Decade Through Time: The Alderberg Legacy: Year 1612

It’s been almost a month since the last update , so here another one! Mostly a side house update though. 

From the Beginning I Currently

It was a rainy , dreary day in 1612 when the 18 year old Jane Wolfeden went out to the tailor shop by the orders of her mistress to pick up a new dress she had been commissioning. 

It had been many years since the former tailor , Isaac Stanwix , owned the shop and it was now in the hands of a handsome 21 year old man named Rodger Crawford. 

However , it didn't take long before Jane and Rodger started to see one and other , although secretly at first. 

She didn’t wish for Widow Dagworth to know about their little romance , she was scared to lose her job and housing if she knew that she been seeing the tailor on her days off. 

But it didn’t take long until Rodger asked for her hand in marriage , which she accepted in heartbeat. 

This was chance of a better life for Jane , hopefully filled with stability ,safety and love. 

The same can’t be said for Philips household... 

By the time she was 6 years old , little Philippa Alderberg knew that her parents were unhappy together. 

They had always something to argue about- laundry not being done , food being uncooked , not having enough coin for the month... Philippa was thankful to the watcher that they at least didn’t argue about her that often.

Her father adored her , in his own weird way. He was nice yet overprotective , wanting her to stay home or go with him to the market to sell whatever they had made that winter. He would have outbursts if he didn’t know where she was. It was exhausting. 

It’s like he didn’t trust her mother , although Emma was also very loving , yet not as smothering as her father. She let her go out on her own and play with other children.

If  Philippa was to be honest to the watcher , she preferred her mother to her father but she would never say those words out-loud as she didn’t want the watcher’s dice to have any ill intent. 

By the end of the 1st quarter of the year , the Calott’s had a nice , peaceful night after a long days of treating the ill. 

Ursula Calott , now 30 years old,  had put her daughter Hester to bed for the night. 

It was at night Ursula and Magdalene could breathe at easy and enjoy one and others company without worry. They been together for 10 years now and hope that they will continue to be by each other sides for many more.

3 months later , at the Kellogg Farm , Geoffrey and Parnell Mildmay welcomed their 3rd child: A little baby girl. 

Avery , now 2 years old , was very curious over the small babe in swaddle. He took in everything about Christiana, that she was tiny and very sleepy , that when she cried she was hungry. A very smart lad they had , his parents agreed. 

3 months after Christiana’s birth and Avery’s second birthday , Silas Wolfeden aged up to a toddler as well.

Silas and Avery were very close in age , and the 1st cousins were more like brothers then anything else.It was a good thing , as the boys needed the company. 

The Wolfeden girls were too old to play with their baby brother and Christiana was “too little” to play with for Avery. The family hopes that the boys will continue to be good friends. 

It has been 6 months since Jane and Rodger’s wedding , and the couple finally got the confirmation that she was expecting their first child together. 

Rodger was very happy and wished for a son , so did Jane, although jokingly said that boys were rare in her family- it took her mother and father 17 years to have a son after all. 

At beginning of the 4th quarter of 1612 ,  Barbara Horthall had arranged a meeting for her oldest son , Jasper , with a sorted someone. 

Tieica Brokhil was the daughter of a dear childhood friend of Barbara's , and the one she been eyeing for her son to marry since Tiecia became a young lady.  

Jasper liked Tiecia , she was a fun and loving lady who adored dogs and silly games. A good heart and light head.

When Tieica first kissed him after giving her yellow blooms, Jasper knew that he would fall in love with her.

If he already was not by the time wedding bells ring for their union. A much happier couple then that of Abel & Barbara... 

Shortly after Jasper Horthalls marriage to Tiecia Brokhil , Jane Crawford went into labor. 

Jane had the support of having her mother , her grandmother and younger sisters , as she was scared of giving birth alone. 

Just like her mother and grandmother before her, Jane’s first child was a daughter- Ruth Crawford. Although she knew Rodger wished for a son , she was happy and content to hold her baby girl close to her. Besides , they will be able to have more children, one surely has to be a boy. 

Across the green hills and dales of Outland , a young man was running with a sprint in his step. It was no other then Caleb Alderberg , Griffyn’s eldest son with his 1st wife.  The now 13 year old boy was a handsome man , inheriting most of his features from his dear departed mother. 

Caleb was a very stern boy: He didn’t show much of his thoughts or feeling other then grumpiness , but he was not unfeeling. He liked beauty and could easily find it in the world around him with its flora and fauna. 

The attic room has become his sanctuary , there he would write and draw from memory of the things he saw and discovered from his adventures. He was good with the quill and words for a man who never said much. 

Meanwhile at the Friswell house , the now 40 year old Garitt had exciting news to share with his oldest son - that he has now found a betroth for him to wed in 2 years time. 

The 15 year old Stephen didn’t share his fathers enthusiasm, for he did not wish to marry at 17, that was way too young for his taste.

 But his father insisted that Lady Isley would make a lovely bride and mother to his children and that it was something his mother would have approved of. 

If your wondering about why Philippa is referring to the watcher and the dice so much , its because she has the never nude trait = pious/religious. I think if a sims has supernatural skeptic they will also be religious , but so far only 1 has that trait. 

Next update we will spend more time with the main family. 

#decades challenge #Morbid's decades challenge #A decaded through time #ultimate decades challenge #ts3 #the sims 3 #The Alderberg family #the sims 3 legacy #ts3 legacy #tw pregnancy

[sweetsbfreex]

a styles vacation to Hawaii

Summary: a little continuation of this family. The styles take a vacation to Hawaii with mild bumps in the road. 

a/n: no warnings, but harry is not famous in this. I’ve never been to Hawaii and do not much of the hawaiian attire/culture, i just did research and put what i found. If there’s any misconceptions or if i’ve offended anyone by accident pls lmk!

Pairings: Dad, Husband!Harry

“Honey, you have to let go so we’re not late for the plane” Harry grunts, trying to stealthily pull Ava away from her hold on Milo. 

“No! We can’t leave Mimi” she cries out, cuddling her face into the pup’s fur even more. 

“Mimi has to stay with nan, honey” From his tone you can tell he’s losing patience.

It’s a definite eyesore. The whole situation takes place on your mother's porch. You were all meant to say your goodbyes before the three of you–– no Milo–– go off on a small vacation to Hawaii. 

Ava is holding on to the australian shepherd, not letting up one bit. You would think she glued herself onto him without anyone knowing, with how she latched on.

Milo in front of your mother's feet, enjoying what he thinks is a hug it seems. Only letting out long whines when Ava's sobs get out of control.

Harry is standing behind Ava, bent at the wait trying to pry her off her best friend.

You're crouched beside her, a hand on her back, trying to convince her to let go.

Ava's poor grandmother stands in the doorway. A look of agony on her face as she watches it all go down.

The–– now three year old–– has been throwing a hissy fit in the car, holding onto Milo's paw. Ever since Harry informed her how they were going to her nan's house to drop off Milo and then hurry to the plane. She saw the news like a terrible taste in her mouth, while she stared at you both in the rearview mirror eyes widened. 

You know how much the two love each other, but you didn't expect her to throw a fit like this.

“Ava I know you’re upset but, you gotta let go honey so Mimi can have fun with grandma. Don’t you want to go on the airplane, hm? Weren’t you excited about it?” You ask her, beginning to unclasp one hand and go for the other, trying to bring into your arms.

But with quickness, she remembered the only way she would be able to go on this vacation. Without Milo, she wraps her arms around Milo again. 

“Baby, Milo has to stay. Dog’s aren’t allowed in Hawaii” At this moment, Harry is willing to try anything.

“They’re not?” she asks, tilting her head back a little to see her father’s face. 

“Nope, Milo won’t have fun there. He’ll have more fun with Nana” he tells her, bringing his thumbs down to wipe away the tears. 

“...I wanna stay with Mimi!” 

Milo doesn’t eject this idea, letting his chin rest on her small shoulder. You and Harry huff in frustration, glancing at each other. Your mother...well she’s had enough of whatever foolishness you and H are pulling right now. 

“Okay enough of this” your mother starts, gaining everyone’s attention. “Ava, honeybee, Tell Milo and your grandma see you later and let go of him so you can have fun on your trip with your parents.” She says this with a stern, yet loving tone. Down to business and nothing else. 

“Yes nana” she mumbles, placing a few kisses to Milo’s cheek and glides to your mom. 

You and Harry look at each other in an instant, eyes wide at the way your mother fixed the problem in less than a minute. A mutual look of what the fuck, as in the what the fuck were you possibly doing wrong. 

“Thanks mum.” Harry says sheepish, looking at the calming little one swaying in your mother’s arms.  

“Yeah thanks mom” you say, standing up straight.

“No problem, Now get going, before she fusses again”

You all exchange your see you laters. Ava has yet another sweet moment with Milo. While Harry tells her she won't be staying in Hawaii forever and Milo won't stay with Nana forever. As you're driving away you all wave at the two, Ava yelling to Milo.

“Bye Mimi! See you soon! Don’t chase a squirrel when I’m gone!” She yells out the window, her arm waving in the wind. 

You and Harry share a chuckle. Despite what she may think, Milo has never chased a squirrel in his life. She's watched it once on a cartoon and it somehow filled her heard with the imaginary scenario. 

When both her grandmother and bestfriend are out of sight, she turns her head to the other window. A solemn look on her face, looking out the window like the Kermit the Frog meme. 

You play the Frozen 2 soundtrack for the less pouty girl behind you. But when you don't hear the shrill sound of her singing, you look behind you to see an upset look upon her cherub face. 

Her bottom lip is juts out, her hands fisted and arms crossed. 

“You okay?” you ask her, turning in your seat to cradle her knee. 

She’s dressed cutesy in a matching sweat set and a cute beanie rested over her plaits. 

“No. I’m upset and I wanna yell” she looks at you, resting her case, before she turns her head back to its original spot. 

Harry peeks at the interaction through the rear view mirror; an eyebrow quirked. One hand on the wheel while the other takes its natural spot in your lap, your fingers tangled with his. 

“Why are you upset?” you ask. 

“Because…” she groans, trying to figure out her ‘big feelings’. “You left Mimi and now he’ll hate me” 

“He won’t hate you, you’re his favorite person” 

“You guys don’t love me either!” She whines, glaring out the window. Wigging in her spot, causing your hand to fall from her knee. 

“That’s not true! We love you” you exclaim, in a loving manner. 

“Then get Mimi” 

“Mimi is staying with grandma Ava, enough.” Harry’s voice catches her attention immediately. “ It's okay to be upset but Hawaii doesn’t accept dogs, remember?” 

She only huffs, dropping her hands from her chest. 

“Can you play the when I am older song, please mommy?” she almost whispers.

You accept her request, turning so you’re seated right. Playing the song and hearing her sing eases your glazed stare a bit. Releasing a breath and closing your eyes as you rest your head against the window adds a bit to your release. 

Harry raises the entangled hands away from your lap, placing an adored kiss to the back of your hand. Sending a quick questioning look your way. 

“I’m fine” you send back, in a smile. No mother wants to hear those words.

He can’t do much with him driving and with Ava in the car. So he places a kiss to the back of your hand once more, and extends his hand so he caresses the back of your neck. 

“You’re doing a great job, stop being so hard on yourself” he encourages.

If your mom was here she’d give you a tip or two on how you and Harry are too soft on Ava. You couldn’t help leaving all the disciplining to Harry, you probably were definitely too soft on her at times.  

-

Through all the pouting, belting of kid songs, and Harry's annoying jokes and teasing. Five hours later you've made it to the resort. 

At the moment, Harry was checking you both in while you and Ava looked around the gift shop. When you feel someone’s arm come around your shoulder, you jump. But the feeling of his cold rings and brings you down. 

“Scared me, don’t do that” a breath of relief follows as you tilt your head back onto his shoulder. He gets the memo immediately, leaning down for a peck to the lips. 

“Made a friend in the lobby.” He tells you like nothing. Eyes shifting at his little girl looking through the stuffed animals and keychains.  

“Are you okay?” you ask in disbelief. 

“What?” he laughs, one eyebrow perched.

“Like in the head”

“I’m not following…”

“Why are you so good at making friends with strangers this easily? Seriously.” 

He laughs you off like it’s nothing, but it’s uncomic. You wish you could blame it on being shy, but compared to Harry it was not that easy for you to chat up strangers enough that you become acquaintances. 

Your husband could make friends with a duck if he wanted to. Everywhere you went. Whether in the ice cream shop a few miles away at home or the park where you took Ava all the time .He was always chatting with someone, in the end pulling you in. 

He only laughs it off, beyond doubt enjoying the look on your face. “We agreed to save each other a seat at the Luau tonight, for whoever gets there first. Talked to the husband actually, but you’ll see”

“You’re insane” you tease him.

“Can I have this?” A teal, stuffed sea turtle is thrusts in the direction of you and Harry. 

“How do we ask nicely” you say. 

“Can I get this?” she smiles, a smile so sweet, your tooth hurts from looking at it. She’s the most adorable thing and knows exactly how to use it to her advantage. 

“My sweet little baby.” Harry crooned, advancing to her, lifting her into his tattooed arms. Placing a series of kisses to her plump cheeks. She giggles, never wanting the affection to stop. “You can have it,” he tells her. “Let’s go to the till.”

“Harry you didn’t even check the price” you chimed in. 

“Shh. We’re having a moment” he acknowledged. He outstretches his arm, so his palm meets your face gently. You laugh into it, before you smack his wrist away, then placing a light kiss to his wrist when he whines.  

-

It’s some hours later. You’re all getting ready for the hotel’s hosted dinner/Luau tonight. The three of you took a two and a half hour nap. 

You were touching up your light makeup while Harry got Ava ready. He lost two rounds of rock-paper-scissors and now must deal with the havoc that is dressing Ava. 

“Baby, get the trousers mommy picked out for you” you Harey him tell Ava. 

“Trousers?” She says the word with confusion, “Don’t have trousers babe? That’s a silly word.” 

Then you hear the raspy laugh of Harry. 

“Your pants, get your pants and your top too” 

Not even a minute later do you hear Harry asking her to stop wiggling around. 

Harry walks in the bathroom, a giggling Ava sat on his hip. 

Harry adores a very laid back...dad look you could say. The back of the white wife beater he’s wearing get’s covered by a black button up shirt with flamingos patterned all over it. He’s also wearing  a pair of shorts and his favorite vans. 

Ava’s tucked into a set. a cami top with matching flared pants and sunflowers ornamented the black fabric. 

“Oooh look at mumma, beautiful huh?” he asks Ava, extending one hand towards you, once you clasp your hands in his, he spins you letting his eyes sink in.

“Yeah!”

“Thank you both” you smile as Harry tugs you in for a swift kiss. 

You had picked out an angelic, ivory crochet set. The top you’re wearing shows off your midriff and the long, flowy skirt matches with beautiful lace detailing. 

You turn to Ava to give her a kiss on her cheek. “You look so handsome.” you tell Harry, letting your hand run through his hair. “And you look so adorable, you like your outfit?” taking her from Harry’s hands. 

“Yeah, I like the flowers–– Can I have some too?” she points to the plethora of makeup products spread over the bathroom counter. 

Looking over at Harry for his confirmation, he nods. You take the brush running it over the blush, before brushing it over her chubby cheeks and her nose.

“Tickles,” she laughs, pushing your hand away. 

“Are you ladies ready to go?” 

-

“Wow! Look the fires!” She points at the lines of tiki torches submerged into the sand, jumping as she sits on your hip. 

The layout is stunning. There’s a stage for the performance, round tables spread out everywhere across the beach, and a buffet in the back. 

Most of the tables are already filled, albeit the show was to start in like twenty minutes. 

“There they are, over there” Harry indicated, his hand waving back at a family of four. 

With Harry’s hand settled on your back, he weaved the three of you to the table. 

“Hey Shawn.” Harry greeted, their hands clasped together as they brought each other in, clapping each other on the back. 

Shawn was a tall man, a few inches taller than Harry, and very built. He had amazing brown skin, clear like a mirror, and was bald––which he pulled off effortlessly. 

“This is my wife, y/n and my daughter Ava” he smiled at the two of you, while you shook hands with Shawn and asked Ava to say a hello. Which she did, like bursting a ball of energy as put her hands out for a handshake like she watched her parents do. It caused a laugh out of everyone. She didn’t know why they were laughing at her, but she enjoyed the attention. 

“This is my wife Avni” you hugged, as close as you could, with a petite, expecting Indian woman. She was radiant as she smiled at you and Harry. “These are my kids Grey and Aster” you shook hands with them both. 

Grey looked about Ava’s age, bouncy coils moving as he bobbed up and down in his seat. His sister, who looked in her tweens, sported the same hair texture. Aster more silent of the two sent her greetings kindly. 

“And the third is still cooking in here” he laughed, setting his hands down on Avni’s early protruding belly. 

With that joke, you understand exactly how the two of them got to know each other, as Harry joined in with his laugh. The wives chuckled amongst themselves. 

“How far along are you?” you solicited.

“Three and a half months” Avni smiled proudly, rubbing both hands around her belly. 

You cooed, “It’s amazing, you’re literally glowing. You're making me miss being pregnant” you joke. 

“Okay! Enough of that. One little devil is enough.” Harry tickles your side, as a result you jab his side with your elbow gently, as he grins down at you. “We’re gonna go get some food,” he informs the couple.

-

Now everyone’s sitting around the table anticipating for the show to start. Conversation running pretty smoothly. The four of you were even able to make a few plans for the week you are here for. You had gotten a high chair for Ava to sit and eat in, but she wasn’t having it. Failing around while reaching for you.

 In result, she’s now sitting in your lap, bouncing side to side. Munching on her French fries, chicken, and sipping on her pineapple juice. 

“Taste good?” Harry asks his toddler. 

“Mhm” she hums, shoving her thumb into his face. 

“I can tell” he chuckles, extending a napkin to wipe her face clean. 

You tilt your head down closer to hers, to see sauce around her mouth, some of it on her cheek even. 

“Daddy.”

“Hm, baby?”

“Mimi would like this, he loves the chicken mommy gives me” 

“You give Mimi your chicken?”

“No”

You both laugh it off, not seeing the point in correcting her. 

“Who’s Mimi”

“Mimi is our dog, he's big and he can talk!” Ava answered, her voice ringing with excitement. 

“Dog’s can’t talk!” The high-pitched voice of Grey argued, eye brows pitched together. 

“That’s a fib, Mimi talks to me all the time!” she defended. 

Thankfully,  the show was beginning, two young women and four young men came out on stage. Dressed in their traditional Hula attire. 

You and Avni shared a grateful smile, knowing neither of you would know how to suppress their little spiff. 

The dance is mesmerizing and it was nice with the sun almost setting as a background. Light hues of orange shaded the sea as the night took over the rest.  Everyone watched in awh, clapping when it was appropriate. The women’s skirt flowed amongst the air like water.  

Harry’s arm propps on the back of your chair. During the performance you feel his fingers run against the back of your neck. 

You turn your head towards, trying not to disturb the entranced little girl on your lap. “What?�� you mouth. 

“It’s beautiful” he whispers to you. 

“I know” you tell him, smiling when he rolls his eyes at you. 

At some point in the show, the original dancers plus a few more stepped off the stage. An array of Lei’s on their arms, watching as they put Leis around their chosen person’s neck. During this time a woman walks behind Harry, setting one around his neck. 

You laugh at the shocked look on his face and the way he fixes his posture. She places a grip onto his arm, making him stand up so she could guide her to the rest of the others. Avni gets chosen too. 

The smile on your face makes your face hurt as you watch Harry “dance” up there. The man definitely didn’t have the bet rhythm but he’s having fun and you loved that. 

“Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!...” Ava cheered on her father, clapping her hands. Harry looks towards her, waving. She gets even more excited chanting his title louder. 

She's Not interrupting anything, you’re surprised he heard her in the first place. But also not, she always knew how to project her voice when needed. 

A little over a minute goes by when Ava raises her hand and keeps it up there until you’re able to flag down someone for a lei, which you both get. The both of you walk up to Harry and you set Ava on the ground. 

A slight circle forms as you three hold hands together. Just swaying. Sometimes letting go because Harry wanted to spin the two of you. It’s a beautiful image, you're sure. All the glee you could hold in your body transpires in the way you danced with them. 

When you’re walking back to your hotel room, your arms are hooked with Harry’s and your head rests on his shoulder. An almost asleep Ava in his arm. He stops to bring his free hand around your neck, pulling you in for a kiss.

“Thank you for giving me this, I love you” he whispers against your lips. 

-

Last night, after the dinner and the Hula, Ava had facetimed Nana. To be honest, she had wanted to say a goodnight to Milo, but talking to her grandmother was always a plus. She was still dressed in her outfit, you and Harry getting ready for the night, so you could then focus on her. 

She sat up against the headboard, Your giant phone–– compared to her hands–– held in her tiny ones.  You were looking through her duffle bag for her pyjamas when you heard…

“Look Mimi, I saved you chicken”, her small teeth bared, holding up a piece of her chicken from dinner. Your phone is now being propped up against a pillow. 

You looked up to watch her pull a piece of chicken from her...pant pocket. 

That was the point you reavulated yourself as a parent and had to think about what kind of kid you and Harry were possibly raising. 

“Harry!” you called for him.

He walked out, an eyebrow quirked.

“Look.” you hiss, voice low.

‘God…’ Harry thinks. “Where’d she get that chicken from?” he asks, running his towel over his hair. 

“Her pocket! Why are you so casual about this?”

“Angel...you had a baby with me, what’d you expect?” he questions, seriously questions you this.

“You’re fixing it then, Mr. mini-me”

-

Presently, you’re all at the beach. Three towels and three umbrellas lay in/on the sand. You’ve rubbed sunscreen on Ava twice now and have had to remind Harry three times. After last time there was no way you’d be rubbing aloe vera on him all night. 

“Baby you’re dripping it.” You sigh, reaching over to wipe her chin of the chocolate ice cream she was eating, from a cup you might add. “Do you want me to feed it to you?”

“No, thank you” she replies, kicking her feet out. 

You’ve all swam a bit, but now are on a mini break from the water and saw they were selling ice cream close by. 

It’s pretty quiet between the three of you, too busy enjoying your treat. 

She gasps, “Daddy you’re a fibber” Ava says indifferently, slurping even more of her ice cream from her spoon.

He guffaws, caught off guard from her statement. He shifts towards the two of you. The way the wind blows his hair and the sun makes the green in his eyes even brighter catches you off guard–– the sight of his abs doesn’t hurt either. 

You also knew it wouldn’t be long until his hair gained some highlights and his freckles would be more prompt. You couldn’t wait.

“How’m I a fibber, messy?” squinting down at her.

“Look!”she points, “There’s a puppy right there” 

There is, you turn your eyes to where her fingers point to see a woman walking a black Dachshund.

Harry turns his head towards him, a sad look on his face. “You’re right baby. I’m a fibber. I’m sorry”

Ava hurls from her seat to latch her arms around his neck, “It’s okay daddy, now Mimi can come next time” she tells him.

If there’s one thing about Ava, it’s how much she hates sadness. Unless it’s from her. Then it’s perfectly okay. She hates sadness so much, she particularly had a dislike for the character from Inside out. Until you had to explain to her how sadness is something that is okay and needed from time to time, Like in the movie.

After her round of affection towards Harry, she emplaces herself into his lap.

“Daddy. Mommy.”

You both hum an answer. 

“It looks like a hot dog” she eyes the dog while it trots down the sand. 

“It does huh?” Harry answers, brushing her flyaways back. All while you laugh into your palm.

Your hands feel tingly when you wrap it around Harry’s neck, pulling him into you. His head lays against your shoulder. 

Definitely a vacation to remember and cherish.

-

if you enjoyed pls don’t forget to reblog or give feedback if ur up to it <3

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurbs #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #dad!harry #harry styles reader insert #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles drabble #harry styles writings #dad harry styles #harry styles angst #husband!harry #husband harry styles #dad harry styles x reader #harry styles x you

[johnsamericano]

𝔖𝔲𝔤𝔞𝔯 ℜ𝔲𝔰𝔥 𝔧.𝔧.𝔥

Hi everyone! As promised, here’s one of the two most voted fic continuations. There will be more chapters to this story though I'm not sure how many yet. Thank you for reading!

warnings: sugar daddy jae, mentions of injuries and hospitals, language.

taglist: @thoreeo @trustmahluv

Sugar rush m.list.

The machine monitoring your father’s heartbeat was the only sound filling the quiet hospital room, where your once healthy father laid unconscious, his perfect, chiseled cheeks adorned with cuts and bruises. Would they leave a mark?

The machine monitoring your father’s heartbeat was the only sound filling the quiet hospital room, where your once healthy father laid unconscious, his perfect, chiseled cheeks adorned with cuts and bruises. Would they leave a mark?

The machine monitoring your father’s heartbeat was the only sound filling the quiet hospital room, where your once healthy father laid unconscious, his perfect, chiseled cheeks adorned with cuts and bruises. Would they leave a mark?

The machine monitoring your father’s heartbeat was the only sound filling the hospital room, where your once healthy father laid unconscious, his perfect, chiseled cheeks adorned with cuts and bruises. Would they leave a mark?

The machine monitoring your father’s heartbeat was the only sound filling the hospital room, where your once healthy father laid unconscious, his perfect, chiseled cheeks adorned with cuts and bruises. Would they leave a mark?

Where did everything go wrong?

Your string of thoughts was cut off by a call from your aunt.

Your string of thoughts was cut off by a call from your aunt.

“Hello?” Your voice was raspy from not using it. There was no one to talk to in the quiet, hospital room but the nurses, who weren't especially keen on chatting.

“How’s your dad, sweetie?”

“They let him out of ICU, but he doesn't look good to me.” Your fingers traced the cuts in his chiseled cheeks that would soon turn into scars, ruining his perfect skin. Your eyes then diverted to his head, thoroughly covered in bandages to protect his damaged skull.

“Honey, I've got bad news...”

“They rejected the case, didn't they?”

“Not precisely.” She deeply inhaled before continuing. “It’s a tough case, almost impossible to win, nonetheless, they're willing to take it. But their fee is a little...”

“Expensive.”

“Yes.”

As expected from the best firm in town, they wouldn't take less than $8,000. Your bank account didn't have enough money to even cover half of it, and with your job at the convenience store, you'd only earn so much to cover your expenses.

“We can take the lawyer that the government provides us with, it would be free.”

“But then I'm sure we’d lose.” You groaned in frustration, using your free hand to rub your forehead. “Don’t worry, I'll find a way to get the money.”

“Why don't we just accept the compensation they're offering? It could pay for the hospital bills and you'd still have some left to pay for your tuition.”

“That would be like putting a price on my father's life. I don't want their money, I want them to make themselves responsible for what they've caused.” The sound of wheels approached the door of your father's room, signaling the nurse was outside with his meds. “It’s okay, Auntie, I'll take care of everything. You can go back home, I know my uncle isn't doing so well.”

“Are you sure, darling?” It was undeniable that she wanted to head back to her little ranch fat away from the hectic city life to take care of her sick husband, but still, her brother was laying down on a hospital bed, fighting for his life.

“Yes, I'm an adult, I'll find a way.”

“Take care of yourself, and don't hesitate to call me if you're having any difficulties. I'll be there in the blink of an eye.” She said before sending a kiss into the speaker, proceeding to hang up.

You sighed. It was never usual for you to ask for help, as you were an extremely prideful and independent person, and you doubted this time would be different.

“Don’t worry, dad. Everything will be alright.”

Three failed job interviews and one more to go. Your feet were killing you, the high heels covering them already worn out from walking to avoid taking the bus. Every penny counted, and as long as your legs worked, you weren't spending any more money than what was necessary.

You sat down in the waiting room of the company, massaging your neck to relieve some tension. College was becoming a burden. Maybe you'd take a semester off to focus on working, that is if someone wanted to hire an inexperienced student.

“Y/n, Y/l/n?”

“Here.” You darted up, gathering your belongings to enter the room on which your life almost literally depended.

You gave all the right answers, earning a polite ‘we’ll contact you’ in return. But you could see that they weren't convinced with your lack of experience, no company in their right mind would be.

As soon as you arrived at your apartment, you slid out of the uncomfortable pencil skirt, tucking yourself under the covers with your phone screen almost hitting your nose.

To take your mind off things, you decided to watch some videos. Halfway in, an ad popped up, interrupting the interior deco video you were watching.

A picture of a girl about your age hugging an older man was right in the middle of your screen. Written with fancy letters, the words ‘make your life simpler’ could be read, followed by what you guessed was the title of the app. Sugar rush.

Out of pure curiosity, your finger tapped at the small icon that led to the app store, absentmindedly clicking the download button. A few seconds later, an icon with the letters ‘SR’ was added to your home screen.

“Log in?” You murmured out loud, squinting your eyes to adjust your eyes to the bright, white homepage.

Just as you were about to click out, the phrase from the ad reappeared, stopping your finger from moving any further.

You could always delete your account if something went wrong, right? Nonetheless, you decided to use a false name, and that's how Melanie Kim’s profile was created. You left the circle of your profile picture empty for now, only filling the spaces that asked about your likes, dislikes, age, and all that stuff that people care about so much.

You knew what the app was for, but that didn't stop you from being surprised when a list of men and women of different ages greeted you. Right then, a small rectangle obstructed your sight, two buttons offering opposite things.

‘Pick the role you'd like to develop.’

Sugar daddy/mommy / Sugar baby.

Clearly, you didn’t have nor the money or the years to be the first, so you clicked the opposite button without giving it more thought.

‘Welcome. You've been registered as a sugar baby at Sugar rush. Meet thousands of men and women willing to finance you for free!’

You hummed.

‘As we're always looking to make our users’ experience better, we've developed Sugar Rush premium, a membership to meet the richest and hottest people in your surroundings. Get the premium version for only $5.95 a month. Click here to get Sugar Rush premium.’

Your finger pad was dangerously close to the blue button, almost grazing the screen of the phone. It was then when you were pulled out of your trance, blinking as if just then you'd realized what you were doing.

“I must be crazy.” You turned off your phone, not bothering to turn on an alarm for the next day. You had no interviews left. You had nowhere to go.

Waking up was getting harder with every passing day. Not being able to call your dad to go out for breakfast or even sending a simple good morning message hurt you deeply. You missed him. But seeing him laying down on a hospital bed, unable to do anything by himself, was even worse.

Ding

A notification filled the silence in your room.

‘Come back, you haven't finished setting up your account yet!’

You scoffed at your past self. What were you even thinking when you downloaded the app?

You simply turned off the phone before standing up to take a relaxing shower. As the water soaked up your tense body, your mind started wandering off back to the app. A million what-ifs filled your head, nonetheless, there was one that remained the most persistent.

‘What if this can pay for a lawyer?’

Your part-time job surely couldn't, and you had no one to assist you financially speaking. The whole idea of paying that ridiculous membership seemed more tempting as your fingers started getting wrinkly under the showerhead.

You decided to take some time to consider it, after all, you still had a week to give the lawyers an answer.

Hot soup seemed like a good option to comfort you, and thankfully, there was a store right in front of your place that claimed to sell the best soups in town.

It wasn't bad, but not nearly as good as the one your dad cooked when you were a kid. You sighed, wondering if you'd ever be able to eat it again. Just then, a woman about your age came into the shop, carrying a couple of bags where names of popular brands could be read. A pinch of jealousy made your heart stir as you glanced at yourself through the reflection in the glass at your side. You looked devastated, your skin pale and your cheekbones slightly sunken, a sign of the lack of rest and food you'd been getting.

Out of pure impulse, you pulled out your phone, clicked on the app you'd recently downloaded, and finally accepted the charges for a premium membership.

‘Welcome, new member of our wide community, click ok to get started!’

Well, no turning back now.

Right after pressing the blue letters with your thumb, you were presented with a list of potential prospects, some of them including pictures, some of them only including name and a brief description of what they were looking for. The minority included their ages, but most left the space blank.

A bunch of old men looking for a youthful, pretty woman to be by their sides, some of them even went as far as writing the weight and height their ideal partner should have. Of course, there were also some women in the look for young meat, but the number of men overpassed them.

About to exit the app in defeat, a profile caught your eye. His pale pink hair was parted, allowing his thick eyebrows to stand out. His high cheekbones made him look like a statue, the details in his face almost too perfect for a mere human. He must be the incarnation of a Greek God, you thought.

‘Jung Yoonoh. 41 years old. Owner of N & C.’

“Should I...?” You asked yourself in a voice lower than a whisper.

He has probably gotten hundreds of messages, so what would be the point of sending one yourself? Your eyes scanned the picture over and over again as the remains of your soup started getting cold.

He was probably the only acceptable man in the whole app, so why not give it a try?

You already spent five whole dollars on it, might as well make it worth the money.

‘Hi.’ Sent.

“Holy crap.” You breathed out, regretting every single action that led you to take such a stupid decision. “Ah!” You squeaked as three small dots appeared beside his profile picture, signaling he was writing a reply.

What if he rejected you right from the beginning? God, that would be so humiliating. His message stopped your train of thought.

‘Hi!’

Followed by:

‘How are you?’

Sweating like a pig, thank you for asking.

‘Fine. You?’ Read.

‘Thrilled. No one had messaged me since I created my account two weeks ago.’

‘How is that possible?’ You imprinted your thoughts on a message.

‘It’s hard to trust people nowadays. I guess people might think either my picture is photoshopped or I'm lying about my job.’

‘Their loss, ig.’ Read.

He was taking some time to answer. Had you said something inappropriate?

‘Hahaha.’

The conversation stopped there, as you didn't know how exactly to answer his message. But a few minutes later, another text from him popped up at your chat.

‘If you're okay with it, we can start talking about a possible arrangement.’

Already? You've known each other for like five minutes. But then again, arrangements were the whole purpose of the app.

‘Sure.’

‘May I ask your reasons for joining the app?’

‘I need urgent money, but my job doesn't pay nearly enough.’ You omitted the part of your agonizing father, he didn't need to know that. ‘And you?’

‘I need someone to be my partner at public spaces.’

‘Alright.’ Read.

‘Do you happen to have some free time tomorrow at lunchtime? I think it’d be better to meet first before making any decisions.’

‘Yeah, I'm free.’

‘Great, I’ll send you the address.’

You thought a day would be enough to prepare yourself, but time passed by quicker than usual, and soon enough, it was time to get ready for your meeting with Mr. Jung. He was only a few years younger than your father, and calling him by his first name wouldn't feel right.

Unsure if you should wear something formal, you threw on a beige (the color you'd agreed on wearing so it’d be easier to recognize each other) summer dress, pairing it with the gold hoops you'd inherited from your grandma to make it look more elegant.

The hardest part of your routine was makeup. Your sunken cheeks couldn't be covered, and only after a few layers of blush and highlighter, you could bring your skin back to life.

On your way to the cafe, you went through the things you'd say when you met him. It was your chance to get your father what he needed.

You stood at the entrance with wide, scared eyes, shyly scanning through the place to look for your date.

“Melanie?” A hand on your shoulder had you jolting. “I’m Jung Yoonoh, nice to meet you.”

What you saw after turning around was breathtaking. A handsome, healthy man, with the most beautiful pair of dimples.

“Nice to meet you.” You managed to blurt out without stuttering, extending your hand to make the greeting more formal. The fake name didn’t seem necessary anymore. “It’s actually y/n, I didn't want to use my real name.”

“I understand. Let’s take a seat.” He offered with a kind smile.

He left you seating at the terrace while he made your order, a latte, and a chocolate cookie. Your fingers played with your hoops anxiously, trying to regulate your breath.

“They’ll bring our food in just a sec.” He offered a warm smile. “Your dress is pretty.” Yoonoh said out of nowhere.

“Thank you.”

“I see you're not a chatty person.” You were about to object, but he started speaking again. “It's not a bad thing! I usually talk a lot, so it’s a nice way to balance things.”

You nodded, seemingly uncomfortable with the man sitting in front of you.

“So, uhm, this is my first time doing this, so I'm not really sure where to begin.” He pulled out a folded paper from the front pocket of his dressing pants. “It’s a bit creased, but I can always print another one. I brought it so you could take a look and let me know if you wanted to change anything. I don't mean to pressure you, but you said it was urgent, so...”

You read the paper under his attentive gaze, making sure not to miss a single word. Everything seemed correct, except...

“Six months?”

“Is that too much?” A small wrinkle formed between his eyebrows, a sign of deep concentration. “Okay, so let's do this instead.”

He took back the contract, pulling out a pen from the pocket in his dressing shirt to correct the original stipulations.

“Four months, and if by the end of them you don't absolutely hate me, we can extend the time. Deal?”

“Just one more thing.”

You cleared your throat, conscious that your following words might jeopardize the whole arrangement.

“Are you sure you want to make it official already?” You had to stop for a moment as the waiter left your orders on top of the wooden table. “I mean, it's not that I have a problem with it, but it's your money and maybe you'd like to give it a better thought.” You resumed.

“The fact that you're concerned about me proves I'm making the right choice. Now, tell me, how much would you like to receive as a weekly allowance?”

Would it be too reckless to ask him straight up for the $8,000?

“H-how much are you willing to give me?” You felt dirty, accepting a stranger’s money like that.

“Whatever you need.” His hand suddenly reached forward to yours, causing every ounce of blood in your body to rush to your face. “There’s no need to be embarrassed, I'm here to help you.” His voice tone dropped, acquiring an almost soothing feeling.

“I need eight thousand by Thursday, next week.” His eyes were wide open, mouth having difficulties remaining closed. “I-I know it's too much, but...”

“I can find a way to give you that money, but I'd like to know the reason why you need it. Just to make sure it's nothing illegal.”

You puffed your cheeks, trying to find an excuse good enough to justify the amount of money you were asking for.

“It isn’t illegal, is it?”

“No!” You retrieved your hand from below his, now embarrassed at the possibility of him having a bad image of you. “I need it for my father.”

“I suppose you don't want to talk about it.” He started at his palm, lips pressed in a thin life. “But when it comes to arrangements like this, we need to trust each other, alright?” You barely knew each other, yet, he demanded to know a very personal detail of your life. Not that he didn't have a good reason for wanting to know, it wasn't a particularly small amount of money.

“He had an accident at work...” You started, fearful of looking up to find pity in his eyes. “I need a lawyer to make his company legally responsible. They intend to throw it under the rug and pay a somewhat decent amount of money to make it go away. The firm I intend to hire is supposedly the best in town, probably my only chance of getting justice.”

“And why don't you just accept it? There's no guarantee that your lawyer will win the case.” You fisted the delicate fabric of your dress, eyes watering as you tried to hold back your anger.

“My father’s life is priceless, and if you think what I'm doing is a waste of money, then fine, we can both look for someone else to help us.” It sounded more aggressive than you'd first intended, but you meant every word that came out of your mouth.

Before you could even stand up, his slim fingers had already wrapped themselves around your wrist.

“I never said that.” He whispered with an almost sad tone. “Come on, sit down.”

He tugged at your arm the slightest, showing off his charming dimples once again.

“I’ll give you the money on one condition...” He raised one of his thick eyebrows. “I’ll go with you to see the lawyer.”

“Why...?”

“That’s my condition, take it or leave it.”

“Okay.”

The days before your meeting with your potential lawyer were nerve-wracking. You'd seen Yoonoh another time to sign the contract, which finally made your arrangement official.

You’d visit your father every day, always hoping he'd be sitting with his arms wide open, ready to hug you. But nothing had changed ever since he first came into that room.

“I’m here to see Mr. Kim.” The secretary's gaze lingered on Jaehyun a few seconds before he finally snapped out of it. “Y/n Y/l/n.”

“Just a second.” He opened his agenda and quickly found your appointment. With a warm smile, he guided you through the corridors of the building, all the way to the elevator. “It’s the only office on the last floor, I'll be at my desk if you need anything.”

Once again, he shot Jae an uneasy glance before the metal doors slid close.

“What was all that?” To be honest, you couldn't care less. But a small chat might calm your nerves and prevent you from throwing up all over the place.

“What do you mean?” He grinned, pressing the button to the top floor.

“You know what I mean.” You scoffed, annoyed at his evasive behavior.

“We just happen to know each other, nothing special.” Before the conversation could continue, a loud ding resonated through the metal cubicle. “Let’s go.” His hand found its place at the small of your back, pushing you towards the glass door. Through it, you could see a black-haired man reading a pile of documents, occasionally raising a photo to examine it with his gold-rimmed glasses supported at the bridge of his elegant nose.

Jaehyun extended his arm over your shoulder to knock on the door, earning an almost annoyed ‘come in’ from the man inside.

“Let’s go.” Once again invading your personal space, he reached for the doorknob with you trapped between his arms.

As soon as the door opened, the man raised his eyes from the documents he was checking.

“What are you doing here, Jung?”

“I knew something was off...” You murmured, loud enough for the man at your side to chuckle.

“I brought you a client, you should be happy.”

“Miss y/n, I suppose. Have a seat.” His demeanor completely changed while speaking directly to you. “I spoke with your aunt last week, she explained the details of the lawsuit, but I must say, it isn't an easy case.”

“I know that, but I've been told you're the best firm in town, I know I'll have more possibilities of winning if you're my lawyer.”

“Best firm in town my ass.”

“Be silent or I’ll kick you out of the building.”

That was enough for Yoonoh to zip his mouth. For a while at least.

“I suppose she also told you about our fee.” He pushed his glasses up using his thumb. “We’d also keep 25% of the lawsuit money assuming we win the case, is that okay with you?”

“Yes-”

“Okay, stop.”

“I’ll call security, Jung.”

“Look at me, y/n.” He squeezed your arms. “This clown is trying to scam you...” He pointed his finger at the lawyer without breaking eye contact. “You’d be spending loads of money for someone who isn't even confident in his abilities. It isn't worth it.”

“And I suppose you'd do better than me, then.” The black-haired man scoffed. “If that's the case, then you can both leave. I'm quite busy at the moment.” With a turn of his wrist, he signaled you to leave the room.

You were fuming, stomping out of the building with Jaehyun right behind you.

“I found a great restaurant nearby, we can go there and-”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Calm down-”

“Don’t tell me to calm down when you just fucked up my only chance to give those bastards what they deserve.” The sun was starting to set, yellow light casting shadows over his tender cheeks.

“Can you listen to me for a second?”

“Are you laughing right now?” You bit your lip, hard, trying to hold back the tsunami of tears threatening to come out of your eyes. “Asshole.”

“Ouch.” He furrowed his eyebrows mockingly. Oh, how close you were to punch that pretty face of his. “Can I explain now?”

You remained silent, staring at the ground with the smallest frown between your eyebrows.

“How do you think I know Kim Doyoung?” Before even giving you a chance to answer, he continued. “That son of a bitch has been stealing my clients for ages.”

“Your clients...?”

“He isn't even that good of a lawyer compared to me.” He scoffed with fake arrogance.

“You're a lawyer?!” You slammed your palms into your face, whining at the newly acquired information. “Why didn't you tell me from the beginning?”

“Just wanted to swing by and annoy him a bit. Don't worry, I wasn't gonna let you accept his deal.” He winked playfully.

The sun was now hidden, the sky darkening as the moon rose to take its shift.

“Though I gotta say, I'm kinda offended I wasn't even an option. I'm a pretty great lawyer, you know?”

“Sorry.”

“I’ll forgive you if you join me for dinner. What do you say?”

As you walked into the darkness of the streets, his shoulder occasionally bumping yours, you wondered if meeting him was a casualty. Maybe the world was finally smiling at you.

#nct smut #nct angst #nct fluff #nct au #nct imagines #nct ot21 #nct x reader #nct #nct 127 #nct scenarios #nct jaehyun

[drwcn]

NEW!

《 Without Envy 》 storyboard 11 - concubine/sleeper agent!wwx & prince!lwj

Other snippets and storyboards can be found on [Master List]

Lan Wangji knew his Uncle and the imperial court and the elders of the royal family were never going to be okay with him making Wei Wuxian one of his concubines. The servant status is one thing, but that's not the crux of the issue. The issue is that there's already a rumour circulating about how WWX is a wily fox whose sole purpose in life is to seduce and befuddle the prince. Xue Yang: quite a reputation you've cultivated for yourself. WWX: *kuzo's meme*.........ah yes, everything is all coming together now.

Lan Wangji is a smart boy though. He knows how to get what he wants. As Wei Ying inched towards full recovery from his whipping, the autumn hunt is upon them.

The autumn hunt in the royal hunts ground was a competition. Anyone invited could compete if they chose to, and of Lan Wangji's household, Jin Ziyan, Luo Qingyang and himself were in attendance. Mianmian, being his concubine and a woman, had two escorts/chaperones accompanying her for propriety, but flashed him dazzling smiles of gratitude upon her horse.

"I'm very grateful, dianxia, for your allowing this indulgence." "Of course," replied Lan Wangji from his saddle. "My Luo-furen should have what she wants." "Dianxia, ce-wangfu." Qin Su approached them and curtsied in proper form. "I wish you all best of luck in the hunt." Then to Mianmian, she said quietly, "Be careful, Qingyang." Jin Ziyan paid the two women no mind, but Lan Wangji saw the hand Qin Su had clandestinely wrapped around one of Mianmian's booted ankles. Oh...well, this is certainly a positive development.

The rest of the noble women not participating in the hunt rested in their tented pavilions, with Meng Yao as their hostess. They drank tea and ate sweets and enjoyed their free time to themselves. Meng Yao noted Wei Wuxian's absence from Jiang Yanli's side, as did several other noble women, but Jiang Yanli only smiled and said, "A-Xian has been living at my father's manor for several years and is an excellent marksman. Dianxia thought it a waste if he were kept from participating."

The truth of the matter is like this: when Wei Wuxian cheated and lied his way into Jiang-fu, he'd told Jiang Fengmian and his family that he'd lived most of his life by the charity of a hunter's family, and so had trained to hunt game in the wild. After the hunter's family died of some infectious illness that plagued the region, Wei Wuxian had supposed made his way into the city and found employment as a shop boy. He couldn't reveal that he'd been trained in martial arts, but there is no need to hide his skill as an archer. At first, it was so he could use archery as a common interest to get close to Jiang Fengmian's son Jiang Cheng, but Wei Wuxian soon realized that it could also be used as a way for Lan Wangji to cultivate further interest.

"Lan Zhan..." Wei Wuxian stroked the snout of Lan Wangji's beloved ferghana horse and grinned. "You really want me to ride him?" "Mn." "You...won't be mad then, if I win?" Wei Wuxian's grin turned slightly wicked. "If I beat you?" Lan Wangji's brow twitched with interest, "Not at all. That's rather what I'm counting on." "Yeah? And why is that?" "Because while I can claim victory with the sword -" "- Very modest, you." Wei Wuxian teased, grinning, which earned him a subtle little glare. "- amongst my cousins, my marksmanship is not unrivalled. You may have a greater chance of winning with him. Huangxiong promised that whoever wins today's hunt will be granted one wish." A wish? Wei Wuxian mulled over this information. His own mission turned and circled in his mind. If I could but gain access to... ... Of course, Wei Wuxian glanced at the prince and the saw the light in his eyes. Lan Wangji is probably thinking of something entirely different.

And so it was inevitable that went the count of the hunt came in, Wei Wuxian's name was at the top. Lan Qiren's little mustache just about flew off his face the way he scrunched it up in displeasure.

Gentries, nobles, dukes and princes watched with envy and shock as a servant came forth to accept the Emperor's reward.

"Jiang-xiong," Nie Huaisang leaned close to Jiang Cheng while they watched from the sidelines as Wei Wuxian bowed before the Emperor. "Why do you look so smug?" Jiang Cheng played with the end of an arrow with an air of mock innocence, "I don't know what you're talking about?" Nie Huaisang pulled at the leather of his riding attire in discomfort - this was so not his style - and tsked, "I know you, Jiang-xiong, you're not subtle. What did you do?" "I was the one who told Lan Wangi that Wei Wuxian is an excellent archer when I went to visit Hanguang-fu." Nie Huaisang understood instantly, "Oh....oh I see..." "What? Don't judge me! You know what they did to him. String up like some unruly animal and whipped. I never agreed with my mother's plan to send him along with my sister anyway. Wei Wuxian may be lowborn but..." Jiang Cheng scowled. "He's too good for them. For Lan Wangji. He's clearly not going to do right by Wei Wuxian. I won't stand to see a perfectly good man wasted as some prissy prince's concubine instead of being where he could put his real skills to use." "Shhhhh, ancestors, Jiang-xiong, keep your voice down! Words like that are a great dishonor against bixia, you'll lose your head!" Jiang Cheng shrugged.

Xue Yang *at a later times*: so lemme get this straight, you won the Hunt, and then Lan Xichen asked you what you want as reward - WWX - as a good little servant I said "I want for nothing that wangye and Jiang-zhuzi hasn't already provided me" - XY *rolls his eyes* Right. And then Jiang Wanyin came out of nowhere and said - "陛下，魏婴乃微臣之家生子，是前管家魏长泽 的独子， 因幼年时父母过世一直遗留市井。上天庇佑，几年前父亲将他巡回。魏婴为人端正淳厚，虽未上过学堂，但头脑机智。陛下也看到了，他弓发出众， 是。。。如能加强训练，以后必会为我姑苏所用 - " Bixia, Wei Ying is this subject's home-born servant, the only son of our previous head of staff Wei Changze. Due to the unfortunate passing of his parents in his youth, he has been getting by doing odd jobs in the capital. Heavens be willing, Father was able to find him after these many years and brought him home. Wei Ying is kind and righteous; though never have been taught by scholars, he is sharp of mind. As bixia has seen, he is a great marksmanship, is ... If he could be granted proper training, he would be a great asset for Gusu in the future. - And what a waste it would be if you were left to twindle away within the confines of a harem. I bet Lan Wangji just loved that. The balls on Jiang Wangyin - I do love his style. WWX You're the only one. Jiang-shushu just about had a heart attack when Jiang Cheng dissed Lan Wangji in public. Madam Yu nearly popped a vein too. XY: Yeah well, he's got a point. You may be Jiang Yanli's companion, but you're not Lan Wangji's concubine, you're just a servant with a skill. Honestly why shouldn't they put you to better use than waiting to maybe spread your legs for a prince who might just as easily toss you aside after the newness fades. WWX *slaps him up the head* Rascal! I'm your shixiong. Don't be so rude. Anyways, Lan Zhan, he - he was willing to let me go. I think he loves me you know - XY: He what now - WWX: He said - Lan Wangji came to kneel beside Wei Wuxian and Jiang Wanyin and bowed to his royal brother, "Huangxiong, Wei Ying is the peijia of my Jiang-furen, a servant of my manor. I... I long knew he is an excellent marksman and should have submitted his candidacy for the ranks but -" Lan Wangji looked at him then, eyes huge with something unreadable. "Jiang-xiao-jiangjun is right. Wei Ying is good, his mind is bright. He would be more suited to militia than...than within the walls of the inner court." "Wangye, have you....have you grown tired of Wei Ying -" "Wei Ying, no -" XY: Oh barf. So please tell me you chose to go to bingbu (ministry of war). WWX: Going to bingbu was never the assignment. If yifu wanted me in the ministry of war, I would've infiltrated them from the start. I refused. And it had the intended effect. "No?" Lan Xichen leaned forward curiously. "Joining the ranks will elevate your rank to that of a subject of the imperial government, and if you are truly as skilled and talented as my brother and Jiang-xiao-jiangjun say, you may rise yet to stand in my court as an officer of the imperial military. You will have your own commission, your own manor, marry, have children - all things which will be forbidden to you if you remain as you are now. As you are male, you cannot provide for Hanguang-fu any offspring, and your low-born status has precluded you from the position of consort or even vice-consort. Have you considered your options carefully? " "I understand bixia, and my decision is made. Nothing would please me more than to stay by wangye's side. I regret nothing." XY: >_> And A this has absolutely nothing to do with the fact you're increasingly horny for Lan Wangji? WWX: Of course not. Because of Lan Qiren, I couldn't advance in Hanguang-fu. But now that Lan Xichen had given me his royal decree, I am Lan Wangji's sanctioned mianshou. XY: *insert eye emoji* So...y'all fucked? WWX *wistful, thinking about the night he spent at the autumn palace after the hunt* : We did, you pervert. Ya happy now? *WWX sighed* But I know who we are and what I must do. Yifu needs me by Lan Wangji's side, for what reasons I do not yet know. No matter how he and I are now... one day it will

all end. XY: *stares into the camera like he's on the office*

Note: yifu = Wen Ruohan, WWX's adoptive father.

#cql #the untamed #wangxian #wei wuxian #lan wangji #xue yang #without envy #cql ficlet #corie fics

[sakura-83]

Things from Anne with an e that I feel like writing down

Season 1 Episode 7: Wherever You Are Is My Home

⚠️WARNING!!!⚠️ this episode not only talks about suicidal thoughts but also a character trying to commit such acts, of you are sensitive to this I suggest you just skip this post or at least skip #75-77

1. Anne calling it comforting that no two snowflakes are alike, as well as calling snow a sign of gods forgiveness as he blankets the dead world in a beautiful frost

2. Josie gossiping about her while she’s RIGHT THERE

3. Her and moody just talking

4. “And I love Christmas, don’t you?” “I don’t know, but I plan to.” “Did you not have Christmas at the orphanage?” “There wasn’t much to it really. I’m not sure why Father Christmas wasn’t able to stop there, maybe the matron scared him off.”

5. “Do you at least know if they’re going to keep you?” “Keep me!?”

6. Anne trying to sing with the others but the other voices quickly fading out as she panics and rushes home

7. “They’re not going to send you back, you’re in the Bible and everything!”

8. Marilla has every right to be angry that Matthew rushed their home without even discussing it

9. “I knew you’d lose your head-“ “Oh, I oughta smack yours right off your shoulders!”

10. Matthew is prone to heart attacks, the very same thing causing his death in the books

11. “He’s had an episode of the heart” just a funny way to say heart attack, sort of long winded

12. Marilla not understanding the complex math because she had to leave school when she was young

13. Anne helping her with it because she’s top of her class

14. “Not keeping you? You’re a Cuthbert, for better or for worse! No getting out of it now.”

15. The awful bank not relenting on the payback schedule despite the fact that Matthew cannot work. Corporations are cruel and ungiving despite the human struggles and needs of its clients and it hurts. I know the bank invested that money and they need it back but Matthew was indisposed by a tragic event and to not only not extent but to SHORTEN the payback schedule is just unfeeling

16. Marilla putting out an ad to the mainland to take in borders

17. The terrifying idea that you must sell everything you have in order to survive

18. Marilla being desperate yet still too prideful to accept charity

19. The fact that it not only effects the family but also Jerry, as they can’t afford to pay him. It puts him out of a job and lowers his families income

20. A reoccurring theme I love in this show is the idea that the characters will give up their belongings, no matter how sentimental, in the name of family. Matthew selling his dead brothers watch, Marilla selling her grandmothers brooch, Anne selling the dress of her dreams, all because no matter how important these items are, they are just things. That family is more important, so even though it pains you to have to give those things up, you do it in the name of love for others

21. “Theyre just things.”

22. Anne feeling sorrow and yet being excited to stay at aunt Josephine’s

23. Despite being told she can keep the dress, Anne insists on selling it back because it’s a family effort

24. Anne being exited for a solo adventure and then getting stuck with jerry

25. Jerry has to be there to get money Anne his family is hungry :(

26. “I don’t actually need your help.” “When’s the last time you drove a sleigh? Auctioned a horse? Let’s go.”

27. Diana giving her things to sell as well

28. Jerry knows how to drive a sleigh?????

29. “It’s not so bad to ask for help sometimes, y’know?” “If I needed help I would say so.” “No you wouldn’t.” “Yes, I would.” “Wouldn’t.” “Would! Times infinity.” “What???”

30. Jerry singing in French

31. “No singing. I mean it. I’m serious, Jerry! This is an important journey! I WILL KILL YOU WITH MY BEAR HANDS!”

32. Jerry grinning as she gets madder

33. Anne bring mystified by the dress shop

34. “I’m here to return a dress.” Is something wrong with it?” “Not a thing.” “Do you not like it?” “It is my very favorite thing that I have ever possessed in life. But I need to return it to help my family.” “You’re Anne, Matthew’s Anne!” “I am! How nice it is to hear it said that way.”

35. Anne being upbeat until Jeannie asks what’s wrong and then ask just breaks down

36. Poor Jerry waiting outside in the snow for her

37. Either Matthew spent some much money on Anne’s dress or Jeannie gave her extra, or both

38. “Did Matthew really spend this much?..” “You’re worth a lot to him.”

39. “I hate to say goodbye…” “😏 I won’t be so long~” “To the HORSE, Jerry. Why are you so annoying.”

40. “You’re a good horse Birdie, try to remember that. Someone will be very lucky to have you.”

41. Birdie really is a beautiful horse though

42. Anne’s little “my parents are spies” act she uses on the pawn broker

43. The pawn broker is so understandable rude because of his profession, it makes him equally annoying and funny

44. “What a piece of work you are.”

45. Anne is so good at making up stories on the spot

46. “If you can’t afford it I completely understand.”

47. I love how snide remarks of “being a good Christian” are frequent and effective insults in the 1800’s

48. Poor Jerry doesn’t just get beaten up and robbed, he gets brutally beaten by two grown men and there’s nothing he can do despite that being… his last paycheck. That was the last income he was going to give his family and he’s so ashamed of himself that he keeps apologizing for it despite most of the money being his. He apologizes to Anne, to Matthew, it bothers him for months to come

49. Gilbert’s back!!

50. “Still seems unreal. Even though I just sold all our… everything.”

51. “He’s a good man.” “I love him with all my heart. I don’t know what if do if…”

52. Them arguing over not arguing

53. Anne apologizing

54. “Anyway…” “Anyway..”

55. I genuinely didn’t realize that the men who beat up Jerry are the same men that took in borders at green gables, I got the same face blindness as Jerry himself

56. “I’ve missed you.” “Yeah?” “At school, theres.. no one to compete with.” “”You want to spell out a few words for old times sake?” “How about… truce?”

57. Jerry thinking Gilbert was going to hurt Anne and take her money and immediately jumping in to stop him despite swaying on his feet

58. When Anne asks him if he’s okay he immediately starts apologizing about the money

59. “I don’t like the city.”

60. “Just take care of yourself, and come home someday.”

61. Anne and Gilbert staring at each other quietly

62. “This is a palace, not a house.”

63. Jerry assuming that they’ll make him sleep in the stable instead of inside the massive house

64. “I’ll look after belle.”

65. “This city is rife with ruffians!”

66. Aunt Josephine insisting on helping

67. Matthew lamenting his own life, talking of how his life insurance will give them a sizable sum and how he drags them down despite them needing him

68. “Anne loves you, you have to remember that.” “But her future…” “Which do you think she would choose, this house or you?”

69. Jerry bring terrified to stay in a room by himself because he’s always had his family around him

70. Anne making room for him only for him to sleep upside down

71. “Don’t worry, I don’t kick like my sisters.” “Yeah, you’d better not.”

72. “Everything will be alright. It’ll be alright..”

73. Aunt Josephine helping by paying for Jerry to work at Green Gables, as well as giving Anne books

74. “We’ve been together all these years, thick or thin, so don’t think I’ll put up with you slipping away now. Anne will be home today, and she’ll be very happy to see you.”

75. Matthew trying to kill himself because the life insurance would pay off the debt he caused

76. Jeannie happening to show up and find Matthew with the gun just in time as he tries to hide what he’s almost done from her, realizing what he’s done

77. The way they stress how his passing would effect Anne the most because of what they mean to each other, that she will suffer without him despite what he’s trying to do

78. “Don’t ever get old…” “Too late for that.”

79. “You would’ve left us that way!? Left me?..”

80. “Give it back. I won’t take charity.” “But.. love isn’t charity.” “I won’t take it.” “Nay I ask why not?” “We will not be pitied! I don’t want people thinking we can’t fend for ourselves.” “Well at the moment we can’t, and I’d sure give my last bit of strength or my last dollar to help a friend. Then I know that friend would feel grateful and loved above all else. And I do. I feel very grateful to have such a dear friend as Miss Barry. Sometimes you just have to let people love you Marilla.”

81. Anne selling her cleaning services to make steady income

82. “We’re rich, aren’t we Matthew?”

83. Jerry carving a star for the Christmas tree!!!!!!

84. Anne’s friends coming to sing carols at their house

85. Anne helping Matthew walk outside

86. Not Nate :(

87. Nathaniel, the bane of my existence

#renew awae #awae #anne shirly cuthbert #jerry baynard #mathew cuthbert #marilla cuthbert #josephine barry

[clandonnachaidh]

Light Across The Seas That Severed

Read on AO3

It always surprised Jamie Fraser, the things that made him think of Claire Beauchamp. Along with the usual triggers—the gut punch when he caught a whiff of someone wearing her signature perfume, the seizing of his heart when his eyes were automatically drawn to messy brown curls on a stranger walking down the high street, the ache in his chest when someone walked past who had the same cadence as her laugh—it was the small, unexpected ones that hurt the most.

He could be walking into the village and see her hair in the colours of the water as it ruffled over the rocks in the burn, so real to him that it felt as though he could reach out and tangle it through his fingers. His carefully curated playlist would end and Spotify would betray him, blasting a song that he had kept at bay, conjuring memories of the two of them dancing like fools on the nights that they laughed so loud that it seemed even the walls shook as they brushed their teeth in the cramped bathroom of their dorm.

It was torture. A delicious kind, but torture nonetheless. One that he had thought to turn into prose—at the recommendation of his therapist. It had been explained to him that grief and loss were themes that could be explored in ourselves if we attempted to write them from another’s perspective. And so here he was now, years after she had left him, sitting at his late father’s desk with a whisky in one hand and a pen in the other, trying to make sense of what had happened and how he had ever been stupid enough to watch silently as her light, his Sorcha, slipped from his life.

On yet another night spent in the same position—the room dark with only a lamp beside him to illuminate the black moleskin notebook—he reclined, the chair creaking under his weight. His father’s old office chair, with it’s worn leather and rusty hinges, wasn’t built to accommodate a man of his size but he’d found that it actually helped to coax the words from his brain, as though the physical discomfort made his emotional pain easier to access. He seemed to need a little nudge to allow himself to sink deeper into parts of his past that he had spent so long trying to keep locked away.

When the whisky finally made him brave enough to open the door, the memories flooded out onto the paper: the sight of her pink lips pouted in frustration as she struggled to lift her belongings from the boot of the taxi on the first day of university, the first time she laughed at one of his terrible jokes (why do the French only use one egg to make an omelette, Sassenach? Because one is an oeuf!), the first time he helped her into her coat and his fingertips brushed the skin behind her ear (their maiden voyage to the on campus coffee house, faces taut in disgust as they realised that their unrelenting back and forth had caused their coffees to go cold). He wrote about falling in love with his best friend and why he had wasted so much time worrying about how to tell her.

Jamie had spent hours, days, months, sitting in his father’s chair, consumed by the fruitless pursuit of trying to plot the points of their relationship. Although he could vividly picture the scenes, he didn’t recognise the people anymore. He had been young, too young by half to know what he wanted out of life and she had been more than he could have dreamed of. He had fallen in love with her instantly, as he was sure most people did at the sight of one Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp. But that was years ago and they had both changed, she was living her life in Boston as a brilliant surgeon while Jamie languished in Lallybroch, living in his old bedroom while his sister and her family had the run of the house.

The burn of the whisky slipping down his throat was a pleasant distraction but the batch still made his eyes water slightly and he made a mental note to tell Ian that the recipe could still do with some tweaking before it could be sold under the Mac Dubh name. He had made a modest success of himself, that was true, now the creator of the fourth highest selling whisky in Scotland. Broch Tuarach had changed from a small farming village that nobody really knew of to the home of one of Scotland’s largest and most successful distilleries, and Jamie was often credited with bringing jobs and tourists to the village in numbers that hadn’t been seen before. There had been a boom in the local economy allowing the village to thrive and he was seen as a pillar of the community, people jokingly referring to him as Laird, or the more familiar Himself, when he passed them in the street although the official title was held by some landowner that lived down south somewhere and had only stepped foot in the area once.

Still, he thought, this batch wasn’t ready for marketing just yet. Jamie put the glass down, rubbed his tired eyes with his even more tired fingers and decided to call it a night, making his way down the hall to his bedroom. His limbs felt heavy as he went through the motions of getting ready for bed. Finally stripping off his shirt and jeans and crawling under the covers, he cast a cursory glance at the phone he had left charging on the bedside table.

Sassenach

Missed call 23.02

He screwed his eyes shut before opening them again as if to knock some sense into them but the notification was still there. The rough pad of his thumb hovered over it, almost afraid that if he attempted to open it, it would cease to exist. He pressed the lock button once to blacken the screen, paused, and then pressed it again to bring it into view and still it remained.

It must have been an accident, a slip of the hand while she was trying to call someone else. He reminded himself of the time difference, it would be the early evening where she was and she could be tired after a long day or maybe even rushing between surgeries. She probably hadn’t even noticed that she had called him. He had to fight his inflating ego when he considered the fact that she still had his number, but blushed in shame as he recalled the frightened face of the poor spotty teenage lad in the phone shop who he had made swear that he wouldn’t lose any contacts or photos when he upgraded to his new handset.

Realising that he was now sat straight up in his bed, his heart beating a slightly faster staccato than usual, he opened the notification. Just seeing her name (or rather, his name for her) on his screen again did things to his body that he wasn’t in control of. His hands felt clammy while his mouth was dry. This was different than just scanning her Facebook page in the dark, looking at her perfectly posed pictures that she chose to share, and lamenting the absence of candids that he had so loved taking when they were friends. She found one of them once, one he had snapped of her the day that they had taken the ferry over to the Isle of Arran for a few nights. Knowing that she didn’t have any remaining family, he had insisted that she spend the summer break from university at Lallybroch with his family and she had happily accepted. However, after a few nights in Jamie’s massive ancestral home, filled with more Fraser bodies than they could count, he promised to take her away for a few days of peace and had driven her to the ferry terminal at Claonaig without divulging their destination. They had been blessed with a beautiful summer’s day for the crossing to Lochranza and he’d thanked God that he managed to keep his breakfast in his stomach. Or rather, that he almost had until they were in sight of the island. Jamie had burst from his seat and had made it to the toilet just in time for his stomach to erupt, sweat dampening his brow until his wame was empty. Shivering and definitely worse for wear but at least grateful in the knowledge that there was nothing else to come up, he had returned to the deck of the ferry to see Claire out in the sun, her forearms resting on the railing as she looked out over the water. The way that her hair whipped up in the wind made Jamie’s chest tighten and before he knew it, he had taken out his phone and snapped a picture.

Months later, Claire had snagged his phone from the table of the bar that they were sat in, too quick for Jamie. She quipped an eyebrow at him in victory, chastising him that he had yet to show her pictures of his latest niece when she stumbled across the photo. He watched as her throat bobbed, swallowing emotion that he wished he could taste before looking at him straight in the eye. Without being asked, he told her that he couldn’t help himself. And she smiled shyly before cooing about Jenny’s new daughter.

The memory flooded his senses and Jamie closed his eyes, filling his lungs with a deep breath for a count of four, holding it for a count of four and then letting it out for six in a vain attempt at calming his racing mind. His whole body felt as though it was vibrating, alive for the first time in what he could remember at the mere <em>thought</em> of Claire Beauchamp.

It took Jamie a second to realise that the vibration wasn’t coming from his body. Or rather, it was, but from a specific part of his body. His hand, the one that was holding his phone, was shaking rhythmically, the screen bright against the darkness of the rest of the room.

Sassenach calling…

The breath jittered from his lungs as he tried to take a steady breath. Watching, almost as though someone else was moving his body as he thumb accepted the call and he slowly raised the phone to his ear.

“Claire?”

On the other end of the phone, he heard her let out a heavy breath. His heart seized as he listened to her break, all too familiar with the sound of her crying.

“Claire, are ye hurt? Tell me what’s—“

“Frank is dead.”

Ice fell heavy in his chest at the sound of her voice before he even took stock of the words that she had uttered. To hear her voice again.

“Oh, lass… Mo chridhe, I am so sorry,” he whispered the words, truly meaning them as he wished for nothing but her happiness. Anything to bring her from the pain that she was feeling.

“He— oh God, he’s dead. He’s really dead.”

He knew in that moment that he would cross oceans for her simply to bring her peace. He had always known the truth of what they shared, how he responded to her call but nothing had prepared him for the tsunami of pure need that he would experience when he heard her cry down the phone about her dead husband.

“I’m sorry, mo chridhe, I’m so sorry,” he repeated at the sound of her hyperventilating, his shoulders creeping up around his ears as he wished he could bear the pain for her, “What do you need, Claire? Anything.”

“He’s in the ground,” she whispered as though saying it out loud would make it more true, “God, Jamie, I don’t know what to do.”

Hearing his name fall from her lips was a balm that he didn’t know his soul needed. The hairs on his arms stood to attention as a shiver rippled through him, clenching his jaw to steady himself and give her his full attention.

“Do ye have people around ye, Claire? Have ye folk in Boston?”

#light across the seas that severed #clandonnachaidh #ao3 #outlander fanfic #jamie fraser #Claire beauchamp #outlander #modern au

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Omertà👄1

Warnings: noncon sexual acts (sexual intercourse); tags to be added throughout series

This is dark!Bucky and dark! Loki and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your father was a bookie and taught you everything you know about numbers. After his death, you were taken on as a bookkeeper for Loki Laufeyson, resident crime boss in Manhattan. But can you keep your place in the background when a man from Brooklyn threatens to drag you to the forefront?

Note: Yes, I’ve decided to do a mafia!au. Yes, I have no idea what I’m doing. Yes, I’m avoiding actually working on other WIPs, but yes I want y’all to have a good time! Be safe.

Hope you enjoy it. Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

The antique shop was unimposing along the New York street front. No different than any other aged and wilting business. The sign was painted with curling calligraphy that read ‘The Attic’ and the windows displayed French chairs and stained glass lamps from over a century ago. The show room smelled of old paper and welcomed few patrons. A mask for what was hidden behind that black door right along the rear.

Loki Laufeyson inherited the old shop from his father just as you were bequeathed your father’s business in turn. But Odin had been more than a mere antique seller. He was a businessman, a swindler, a criminal. The antiques were only a distraction from his real dealings. Powder hidden in African statues and guns hidden in back of creaky old wardrobes. The perfect front. Timeless.

And what were you but an accomplice to this life of crime? Well, you just kept the sums but you weren’t so sneaky as your father. His time at the tracks had taught him much, except for common sense. He could run odds for days but those odds had finally caught up to him. And you. 

He had taught you his skill. The art of numbers. Easy, simple. Numbers don’t lie. But you didn’t want to be a bookie and given the mistakes of your youth in the charge of a criminal, life as an accountant in some city office was a pipe dream. So you accepted the job at The Attic, tallied the debts, and went about your life, only slightly tinged by the city’s underbelly.

The sound of the bills quickly flipping into the tray filled the back office. Lopez was in the storeroom as he always was, his rotund figure balanced on the tall stool just behind the counter. You could hear his off-key humming through the door.

Loki’s tall figure stood before the machine better suited to a bank. He was quiet, as he often was, never one to mince words. That morning had seen a large influx as overdue debts were finally fulfilled; with paper as much as blood. You hovered your pencil along the margins of your ledger.

“Twenty percent to Barnes,” He dropped in another stack. “How much is that?”

You bent over the pages and punched in the numbers to your old calculator. You preferred the clacking of the keys. 

“One sixty,” You said. “Borderline?”

“Mmhmm,” He turned and began to count the bills by hand. “If I have any say, we won’t be splitting pennies much longer.”

“I’m sure he feels the same,” You said as you tapped your eraser on the desk.

He raised a brow at you. He didn’t tolerate much impertinence but you were so minuscule, he allowed you the odd jibe, though he was rarely amused. You straightened the buttoned collar of your blouse and smoothed the lapel of your tweed blazer. It was stuffy in the back room as the sun slatted in through the blinds.

He was quiet again. He neared and set a stack of bills before you. You took it and started to count it. He sat at his own desk; bigger than your own and predominant to the space. You were a side note. His little book keeper on her perch. He had counted right.

You tapped the stack so that it was even and stood to lay it down before him. You stretched your legs before you sat again and flipped listlessly through your ledger.

You were waiting. Loki wasn’t a man who often worked with others. ‘Partner’ was not a word to be found in his vocabulary. However, given a recent string of raids and retaliation, he had swallowed his pride for a cut. A healthy one. A true lose-lose for all involved. A pit of resent and greed which was sure to fester once more but for now, he would pay the piper.

Lopez quit his humming suddenly as the front door clattered shut. Loki’s eyes flashed but his body did not betray his expectation. He remained as he was, one leg draped over the other as he leaned back in the leather chair. You shifted and stilled the flutter of pages. You pushed your glasses up and re-examined the figures.

A knock at the door. Lopez pushed it open and huffed just inside, a mustard stain on his shirt.

“Mr. Barnes is here,” He gasped.

Lopez didn’t look it, but he was a formidable man. He’d shown that, several times. His deceptive appearance made him Loki’s favourite. And they both had a thing for knives.

Loki nodded and Lopez stepped back and his round stomach brushed against the man who waited behind him. Two others flanked the new arrival but did not enter alongside him, merely hovered by the doorway.

You had seen Barnes before; his men called him ‘Bucky’, Loki called him worse. His dark hair was kept short and his sharp jaw bore a constant five o’clock shadow. He wore a striped suit, flamboyant in contrast to Loki’s deep green attire. He entered and strode into the middle of the room. He grinned as he stopped across from the adversary turned cohort.

“I did try to be early,” He said. “I don’t come to Manhattan often.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” Loki slithered. “If I were a real prick, I’d take a late fee.”

“And you’re not?” Bucky challenged and chuckled. He looked around the room and barely seemed to notice you among the bookshelves.

“I like this place. Fancy,” He mused. “I could use a little something to dress up my own place.”

“Your cut,” Loki pushed the stack of money forward. “How you spend it is no concern to me.”

Bucky slowly reached for the bills and licked his thumb before he flicked through them. His lips moved slightly as he counted. When he finished he looked up at Loki.

“That’s it?” He asked.

“Would you like to consult with my accountant?” Loki shrugged and gestured to you. “She is a mouse but efficient… Or better yet, you may return with your own, if you wish.”

“I keep my own numbers,” Bucky placed the money back down. “I’ll have a look.”

You made to stand and he waved you back down as he neared. You lowered yourself stiffly and flipped the page to the properties along the border of their territories. He stood just beside you and you ran your finger along the proper column. As he read, he bent closer, his finger fell just next to yours as he went down the numbers.

You glanced up at Loki who was entirely disinterested. He sighed and tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair. Bucky’s hand gripped the chair behind you and he leaned in even closer. You looked back to the page and felt the soft brush of his breath, the subtle inhale of your jasmine perfume. You turned slightly and his eyes met yours before he pushed himself straight.

“That’s quite the decline,” His hand dragged over your ledger and you moved yours before he could brush it. 

“Yes, well, we did lose a certain op to the fire,” Loki said sharply. 

Though it hadn’t been proven, all were certain it had been set by Bucky’s men. The man even snickered at the mention.

“Checks out,” Bucky grabbed the stack and tucked it into his jacket. “I’d hate to find cracks in this new association so early.”

“Surely not,” Loki replied. “Is that all then or should I offer you a drink?”

“A bit early,” Bucky countered. “But I would like a closer look at that statue out there. Can I have some help that isn’t coughing up a ham sandwich?”

“This is a small business, Mr. Barnes,” Loki leaned forward and tented his fingers. “And I haven’t worked the showroom since my adolescence.”

Bucky nodded and glanced at you. Loki followed his gaze and tilted his head. He looked between you and the other man.

“Go on,” He motioned you with two fingers. 

You blinked and frowned. You barely knew anything about antiques; sure you admired them but you really couldn’t place a date or a style. You set your pencil down and rose. You peeked over at Loki and he shrugged. He just wanted the man gone. To be fair, you felt little different.

Bucky stepped back and sidestepped the door. He waited for you to leave first. You did so reluctantly. You entered the showroom, passing between his two henchman as he followed. You sensed him close behind.

“This one,” He said and you stopped short. 

You turned as he strutted over to a statue of a naked woman barely sheathed by a swath of silk. You neared and his eyes roved the full figure of the statue. His finger brushed her hip and he smiled.

“You like it?” He asked.

You drew your brows together and looked at him. You were rarely asked what you thought, merely for a sum.

“I suppose…” You offered. “Though it is chipped along the shoulder.”

He scoffed and shook his head.

“You aren’t much of a salesman,” He remarked. “But you’re right. I think… I’d prefer a different decoration in my home.” He grinned and turned to you. “Something more… lifelike.”

You were uncertain of his meaning and his tone. 

“Something with more colour?” You suggested.

“Perhaps,” He said as he checked his watch. “I'll have to come back and have another look around.”

“Okay,” You said dumbly.

“Miss,” He gave a curt nod and spun on his heel.

You watched him go as his men followed. The door groaned loudly in his stead and you were left with Lopez’s thick breaths. You looked at him as he bent over a newspaper and squinted at the funnies page. You turned back to the office and picked at your sleeve.

‘Don’t trust men like me,’ Your father’s words whispered in your head. ‘Their wants are simple but their methods are tricky.’

You rubbed your neck and headed back to the office. If Loki had taught you anything, it was that your father, for once, hadn’t lied.

“Did he buy it?” Loki asked as you entered the office.

“No,” You answered quietly as you sat back down.

“Hmmm,” He hummed as you felt his eyes on you. 

You lifted your head and found him staring. He was watching you, weighing you like he did a sac of money or a crate of guns. You picked up your pencil and twirled it.

“Do the numbers again,” He said. “I want to make certain they’re correct.”

👄

Several days passed and you soon forgot about the awkward meeting of kingpins. The days blurred together as they always did, like the numbers in your ledger. You closed up the book as the shutters grew grim with the impending rain clouds. You went to the safe and spun the dial. You shoved the ledger inside and closed it up.

Loki’s chair swiveled and his toe tapped. You glanced over as you watched his lithe legs stretch out. He leaned an arm on his desk and tapped his fingers.

“I wonder…” He began softly. “Why do you do this?”

“Pardon,” You grabbed the top of the safe and pulled yourself up. You closed the wooden door of the chest that hid it.

“Well, more aptly I wonder, do you dress like that to throw off the scent or are you truly that displaced?”

“I don’t--”

“You looked like a librarian.” He interrupted. “Like you should be sat in a cubicle with a mug that reads ‘TGIF’.”

“I… this is how I dress,” You looked down at your pressed wool pants and your starched blouse with the little red flowers. “Professionally.”

“Your father was a bookie and your mother… well, I do not speak ill of the dead if I can help it.” He said.

You swallowed the insult. You knew this man too well to be upset. It was his favourite pastime riling others up. Seeing how far he could push them.

“I’m not my mother and I’m not some dancer or moll,” You said. “So I don’t see how a blazer should bother you.”

“I am not so concerned by your clothes,” He laughed. “I ponder on your commitment to your work. You see, you come in here, like it’s a nine to five, and then you’re on your way and I frankly do not know, nor can I even imagine, what it is you do outside of here.”

“I didn’t realise you needed to know.” You said coolly.

“I don’t need to know the intricacies of your personal life, I only need to be assured of your loyalty.”

“I’ve worked here for seven years. Name a time I have ever shown anything other than diligence.” You argued.

He grinned and licked his bottom lip.

“I am not worried about your past, I am worried about the present and your future which if you wish to continue on here is intertwined with my own.” He insisted. “So, after seven long years, I need more than your little scribbles.”

“What is it you want?” You asked. “A blood sacrifice?”

“I want you at Diablo’s. Tonight.” He said evenly.

“Diablo’s?”

“Yes, he is having one of his little meetings. Truly, I can’t even think of an appropriate term for the occasion. It is mostly drinking and gaudy suits on our part but you can’t truly think you’ll be my bookkeeper forever.” He said. “You don’t want to be your father, do you? Your whole life spent in the weeds.”

“Don’t talk about him like you knew him,” You warned. “If you did, you’d know I’m nothing like him and you would thank all the odds that I am not.”

“You cannot be a background player in this scene and let me warn you, there are not a lot of opportunities for girls like you.”

“Girls like me?” You scoffed.

“A woman in a skirt can lift it and secure herself a pretty little set-up,” He purred. “But you, you can’t dress like some matron and expect to watch the blood spill with clean hands.”

You sighed and clenched your jaw.

“So, you find a dress, buy one if need be, and you will see me at Diablo’s tonight.” He declared. “Without those awful wiry glasses, too.”

You shook your head and turned away from him. You checked your purse before shutting the flap and he cleared his throat.

“I expect an answer.” He said.

“And if I refuse, you will find a new book keeper?”

“I could. Easily.” He affirmed. “But I daresay, you won’t have as easy a time selling your numbers to others. You’d likely end up selling something else.”

You sneered but resisted rolling your eyes. You missed his former apathy. His quiet derision.

“What time, boss?” You asked.

#loki #Bucky Barnes #dark!loki #dark!bucky barnes #loki x reader #bucky barnes x reader #dark loki x reader #dark bucky barnes x reader #dark!loki x reader #dark!bucky barnes x reader #mafia!au #mob!au #au #fic #dark!fic #series #dark fic #mcu #marvel #omertà #mafia #mob

[wouldpollyapprove]

What I’m Working On

I won’t be working on these in any particular order except by sections. I will be working on requests first then incomplete series, and finally original ideas.

~~~~~

Requests:

Tommy Shelby x Reader x Grace: The three are in a relationship together (if you don’t like it don’t read it) and attend a party together. Tommy and Grace’s jealous sides make an appearance as they watch people flirt with the woman they love. *Finsihed*

Tommy Shelby x Reader: In trying to keep Y/n out of the family business to keep her safe, he ends up in muddy water when he’s caught confiding in Lizzie. Knowing his history with the woman, his wife can’t held but wonder if their relationship is more than professional.   *Posted*

Sean Wallace x Reader: Being the boss of a Spanish mafia, Y/n tries to stay under the radar with how dangerous her business is. With the death of Finn Wallace, her existence becomes known to his son, who sees no reason to trust or like her. That is until he meets her and can’t wait to start working with her. (Could possibly turn into a series)

Series:

This Is Not A Date Part 2: Y/n avoids Tommy after leaving the disaster of a date, which she thought would be the best date she’d ever go on, and the bastard can’t seem to understand why. Tommy can’t seem to figure out the problem until Lizzie chews him out for how he treated the woman who had fallen in love with him.

No Whore Part 4: Tommy and Alfie Solomons sit down for their first meeting with a rising Birmingham gangster. With little expectations on who’s to walk through the door, they are in shock when a young woman walks through the door, one who Tommy happens to know.

Long Walk To Birmingham Part 2: After discovering Y/n covered in cuts and bruises, Tommy takes it upon himself to care for her, trying to suppress his feeling for the woman in the process. It isn’t until her father shows up at the betting shop looking for Y/n that Tommy finally confronts his feelings while trying to protect the woman he loves.

I’m Not Like Her Part 2: (Haven’t figured out what I’m going to do just yet)

Farmer’s Daughter Part 2: After meeting Y/n for the first time, Arthur could never get her off his mind. The constant distraction caused a few issues in the betting shop and Polly wasn’t going to have that. So, she did what any mother would do and forced the man to face the woman he had come to fall for. *Queue*

Coal Miner’s Daughter Part 2: It’s the day of their date and for the first time in a long time Tommy is nervous. Taking a girl with little expectations out was nerve racking as he was used to putting on a show. But watching her eyes light up as they watch the horses is enough to make him fall for her. 

Bittersweet Memories Part 2: Having people believe you to be dead is a great advantage when you are in shady business. That’s what Y/n found out once she left Birmingham for London. There she fell into business and love with Alfie Solomons, the last person she thought Thomas Shelby would do business with.

Lonely Lovers Part 2: Since the night Tommy had to put a drunk Y/n to bed, he could help but wonder why she viewed him as a cold man. So, while Y/n tried to ignore her feelings and move onto other men, Tommy spent his free time trying to find out what he had done to the woman, discovering his own feelings for her along the way.

It’s Quiet Uptown Part 3: Y/n and Tommy both tried to move on after their reunion at the cemetery. It was easy for Tommy as he had Grace and Charlie and Y/n had pushed those memories out of her mind as she opened a club in London. But they could never stay apart from each other for long, not when business brought him right to her door.

Our Little Family Part 2: Ada couldn’t have been more excited to introduce the love of her life to her family, but Y/n wasn’t as excited. Nervous was a better word. Knowing the reputation of the Shelby family, Y/n feared they wouldn’t accept who she was, who their own sister was. *In Queue*

The Baker and The Runaway Part 9: Understanding what lead to the betrayal, Y/n quickly forgives Alfie and the two begin to adjust to a new life as she find’s out she’s expecting. With a baby on the way, Alfie suggests she reunite with her family as he tries to mend his relationship with the Peaky Blinders. *In Queue*

Original Works

Knowing Me, Knowing You (Finn Shelby x Reader): Finn falls in love with a girl only to find out she might be a spy for another crime family. Hearts are broken and relationships are tested before the truth emerges. *Posted*

What We Do In Secret (Arthur Shelby x Reader): Y/n is the leader of a rival gang, who started working with the Peaky Blinders so they would quite ruining her business. She quickly falls in love with the oldest Shelby brother, but fearing what Tommy would do, Arthur and Y/n decided to keep it a secret. They love each other behind closed doors until she gets caught in the crossfire, causing Arthur to wonder if he’s going to lose her.

Drowning In Strength (Thomas Shelby x Reader): Forced to marry Tommy to protect her grandfather’s business, Y/n knows she’s an outsider. With the Shelby family turning their noses to her, the young woman is forced to enjoy her own company, the fact soon taking a toll on her mental health. No one is aware the effect they were having on her until she hits rock bottom.

Leave It Behind (Thomas Shelby): Meeting during the war, Tommy and Y/n fell in love and hoped they’d be able to reunite after the war was over. That never happened as the fighting drug on and sent them in two different directions. A few years after the war ended, Y/n finds herself in Birmingham, thinking she lost the man she loved and trying to pretend she was still the same she was before the war, looking for a job. And she finds it when walking into the office of the person that had become nothing but a memory.

No Choice For A Working Girl (Thomas Shelby): Being Tommy’s secretary, Y/n finds herself stuck in a horrible position as she starts a sex only relationship with the man while harboring feelings for him at the same time. It doesn’t help that she finds out she expecting. Fear weighs her down as she knows Tommy will want her to get rid of it and her mother is forcing her to. Kicked out of her own home by her mother, Y/n is forced to scrap together the money for an abortion, all while Tommy is trying to piece together why she’s been so distant.

#peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagines #peaky blinders fanfic #tommy shelby x reader #arthur shelby x reader #john shelby x reader #finn shelby x reader #ada shelby x reader #isaiah jesus x reader #sean wallace x readr

[smallheathgangsters]

Second Youngest | S!S

A/N: I’m sorry, I really struggled with this one, but I hope it’s okay. Also, I had to make a few changes to the original request to boost my creativity and to me, it just made a little more sense this way. 

Request: a very long one by @amys-small-world

Shelby!Sister

Word Count: 1826

Type: angst, a little bit of fluff

----------------------------------------------

Life had never been kind to Y/N, from the beginning on. Even her last name didn’t change any of that. Being a Shelby sounded like a privilege, something everyone wanted to be. Nobody daring to disrespect you and receiving everything you ever demanded, no questions asked. But when your own family doesn’t accept you as their own, the Shelby name transforms itself into a burden instead of a blessing. And that burden never went away for Y/N.

Being the second-youngest sibling and unfortunately not sharing the same mother as the others were features that were weighing heavily on her shoulders. Especially the fact that she had resulted out of an affair with a backstreet whore their father had been having behind his wife’s back, spoke for itself. She wasn’t a Shelby the family was proud of. She was the sibling nobody mentioned to anybody. The mistake none of them wanted to talk about. The reason for their mother’s worst heartbreak. Having a fling with a prostitute was one thing, but getting her pregnant? A whole other story.

That meant, that Y/N had to grow up by herself. Even though the Shelby’s took her in right after her birth and made sure to give her a bed to sleep in, food to eat and eventually work to do, they didn’t give her attention, even a second of their time or love at all.

To put it simply, Y/N had no idea what it meant to be loved.

As a child it had been easier, since she had friends to play with at school. But as she grew older, she lost those connections and Polly made sure to keep her inside to do housework instead of fooling around outside and getting into trouble with the other kids. So, Y/N spent most of her days cleaning and cooking for the Shelby household, instead of collecting memories like all the other teenagers.

Never receiving the brotherly protection like Ada had, she’d been forced to fend for herself since. Like the time, when she went grocery shopping by order of Polly and a group of kids her age started following her and calling her names and eventually tripping her, so she fell into a puddle on the street. She returned with her clothes soaked and dirty, making her get a horrible telling off by her aunt. If anything like that had happened to Ada when she’d been Y/N’s age, the boys would have made sure to beat the life out of those kids and that they never even dared to get near her again. But since she was the bastard child her brothers didn’t care about, nobody was there to defend her and keep her safe.

Therefore, the next time she came across the same group of kids, she punched the boy who had tripped her, right across the face, most likely breaking his nose by the cracking sound and his painful screams.

When she returned home, Polly asked her why there was blood on her dress. Y/N didn’t answer, keeping it a secret, like countless other things that would happen in the following years of her life.

At the age of twenty, Y/N was a wreck. Even those four years, when her three eldest brothers were fighting in the war, weren’t any different to the ones before. While Polly had taken over the brothers’ business together with Ada and some other women, Y/N had been tasked with the care of little Finn and the maintenance of the house. It had been acts like those, that made her feel so useless and so out of place. Would she ever be good enough for anything else?

Most nights she cried herself to sleep. She just couldn’t understand how she was still in this awful position. She waited twenty years for her family to hopefully one day change their ways, accept her as a family member and stop acting as if she wasn’t even present. It was horrible knowing that her family was expanding the business without including her even in the slightest way. Was she really that worthless? Why did everybody blame her for something she had no control over? Would this ever change?

It was the day before her twenty-first birthday. Y/N had had a terrible night, waking up multiple times and having awful nightmares, if she did fall asleep. Thoughts about her future had kept her from getting rest. Since the only thing she’d ever done was housekeeping at home and never got to broaden her horizon by finding a job outside, she felt like she could never escape this life she was living. She wanted to be a nurse or a teacher or seamstress. Anything but staying trapped in this state she was in.

Knowing it was still very early in the morning and the rest of the Shelby family was still sound asleep, Y/N rolled out of bed with a groan and put on some clean clothes. She decided that she needed to take a walk in the empty Birmingham streets before her unpleasant daily routine would start over again. She carefully padded down the stairs, making sure the old wood wouldn’t creak too loudly and grabbed her coat before stepping out into the cool, dewy air and closing the door quietly.

This kind of silence was rare. It was just before five o’clock, what meant that even the early risers weren’t awake yet and factories didn’t start their machines before six. Enough time for Y/N to clear her thoughts, to make sure she wouldn’t go crazy today. Because she felt like being at the verge of completely losing it.

She wandered along the cobble, passed little boutiques and bakeries and eventually ended up in front of the catholic church Polly often went to pray in. She wasn’t religious in any means, but she’d always found peace in the serenity inside the church walls. How her heels clicked on the marble floor and the people in the time-consuming paintings on the ceiling kept their eyes on her, giving her all of their attention, unlike her own family.

After entering, Y/N sat down in one of the rear rows, as though she’d be stepping too close to God if she’d gone any further. God, who most likely didn’t care for her or her existence. She sighed, propped up her elbows on her thighs and placed her head in her hands. Then, she let her eyelids close, realising just how tired she was. Lack of sleep being the least relevant one of all the reasons. Feeling the tiredness creeping up on her, consuming her entire body, she stretched herself out on the cold, hard church bench, her eyes not opening even a tiny bit.

She knew she’d fall asleep, but what she didn’t know, was that she’d eventually sleep through the entire morning. The loud bang of the heavy church door slamming against the wall, tore her from her uneasy sleep, making her sit up in panic.

“Y/N? Is that you?”

It was Finn’s voice. She knew immediately that she was in trouble. Although his tone didn’t actually sound very angry.

She wrapped her arms around her body, not answering his question and silently hoping that she’d be overlooked. But that clearly wasn’t going to happen, since she was the only one in the church and she’d stupidly shot up when hearing the alarming noise.

She heard his footsteps get closer and internally prepared herself to be yelled at, and if not from Finn, than from Polly later on. She tried her best to stay strong and hold back the tears forming in her eyes, but it was all too much to handle. She didn’t want to go back home. She wanted to run away or at least just stay here, by herself, as long as she could.

Surprisingly, Finn didn’t grab her by the arm and pull her with him or even tell her to get up. He didn’t say anything at all. He shuffled into the row and sat down next to her.

With her hand in front of her mouth, she muffled the sobs escaping. Then, she felt a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it gently.

“Family’s looking for you,” she heard Finn mumble.

Y/N took away her hand from her mouth and sniffled. “I– I know …”

Finn sighed. “I’m not going to tell them where you are.”

His unexpected statement made her sobs stop immediately. “W–What did you just say?”

Finn pulled back his hand and interlaced his fingers, resting his entangled hands on his thighs. “It’s not that I don’t see my family being very … unfair to you.”

Y/N almost scoffed, but wasn’t able to hold back her eye roll, which Finn noticed. “I totally understand that you’re angry.”

“Angry?”

That was the moment she suddenly couldn’t keep her thoughts from spilling over her lips. “You think I’m angry? Finn, I’m broken. I’m actually so fucking heartbroken. My own family made it their mission to make my life a living hell. I’m over being angry. I just want to leave!”

Her voice was laced with disappointment and hurt. This was the first time she’d ever told somebody the way she was truly feeling.

Finn gave her a sad look. “I’m sorry, Y/N …”

“It’s not your fault, Finn,” she sighed, scratching at the dried-up spots on her hands. “This started even before you were old enough to realise what was happening …”

Finn started chewing on his lip uncomfortably. “I never understood why they didn’t want to accept you. You’re my favourite sibling, you know that?”

Her head turned to her brother, a hint of shock in her face. “What?”

“You were the mother I never had. You took care of me when I was a kid, played with me, cooked for me. I didn’t know that you were forced to do all of that, but I really appreciated it, even at that age. I know I never showed it after I got older and I regret that.”

His words went straight to her heart, making it contract in a way it had never before. Y/N tried to respond something, but her breath just got stuck in her throat, making it unable for her to speak.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to reply anything to that. I just wanted to let you know. And I’d love to help you start a new life somewhere, if that’s really what you want.”

She shook her head. “All I ever wished for was to have a family. A family that loved me and involved me. But not even waiting for twenty-one years made a difference. It’s all still the same.”

He gulped, grabbing her hand. “Let me speak to them, okay? I want them to know that I care about you. And if they’re not willing to change, I’ll help you get out of here. You deserve better.”

Y/N started crying. “I deserve better …”

#peaky blinders #shelby sister #shelby!sister #second youngest #finn shelby x reader #polly gray #thomas shelby #tommy shelby x reader #arthur shelby #john shelby #ada shelby

[pennylanefics]

Broken Promises - Isaiah Jesus | pt. 2

a/n: this is the second part to promises! i got carried away and some of it kinda drags on, so it’s like 12 pages 🤣 whoops

*gif not mine

•••

Two years into your relationship, Isaiah proposed to you in such a romantic way. Everything was perfect, your life was falling into place finally, and the wedding was extravagant. So why should you be worried about the future?

A few months following your wedding night, Polly confirmed that you were pregnant. You were so excited, the idea of having a child with the man you love and were so happy to spend the rest of your life with.

But, Isaiah wasn’t ready for some reason.

“Hey, how was work?” You ask as he steps inside your home, setting his things by the door.

“Stressful. But I’m happy to be home. Why did you meet with Polly when you came to visit?” He wonders. Your heart begins to race and a small smile spreads across your lips.

“I’m pregnant.” Within seconds, his expression drops and he steps away from you.

“What?” Your smile disappears and you try to move closer to him, but he continues moving back, his hands rubbing his face stressfully.

“I-I’m pregnant, Isaiah. Polly told me that she suspected something and confirmed it-”

“Well get rid of it.” You are surprised at his response.

“Excuse me? Why?”

“Because I’m not ready for kids yet!”

“We’ve been married for months now, I thought you wanted to have a family and everything.”

“Sometime in the future but not now! I can’t, I have to go.”

“Wh-where are you going?” You try reaching out for him but he stumbles away, shaking and struggling to get his coat.

“I just have to go.” With that, Isaiah is gone without a trace. You cry out and fall to the ground, your husband leaving you in the most vulnerable time.

“He just left?” Ada wonders, rubbing your back.

“Yeah. He said he couldn’t do it and he’s not ready for kids yet.”

“That’s crazy. You two have been together for a long time and you’re already married. What’s keeping him from wanting kids?”

“I don’t know. We talked about it on our wedding night and he seemed accepting and even excited about starting a family. He didn’t say anything else, like if he wanted to wait or if he wanted to start planning a time to try.”

“Finn,” Tommy directs his questioning to his youngest brother, who’s the closest to your husband. “Where did he go?”

“I have no idea. He came around to the betting shop asking for some snow and I gave him some and-”

“You gave him cocaine when he was super stressed out?!” Tommy shouts. Finn shies away and nods.

“I didn’t know he was stressed! He seemed normal. And I guess I was excited he was getting back into it because he stopped for a while.”

“Yeah. He stopped because of (Y/N). She hated him being high every single day and being violent.” Finn’s eyes widen and he looks at you, having no clue that was the problem.

“He hit you?” Sighing, you shake your head.

“No, but I honestly thought he would at some point,” you mumble. You haven't told anyone else in the family aside from Polly and Tommy, but Isaiah and cocaine were not a good mix one bit.

You remember he came home one night, trashed beyond belief, angry about something that happened at the betting shop. You tried chatting with him about his day, but he blew up. He began throwing things against the wall, shattering a mirror and getting glass everywhere. You were so scared that he would snap and throw something at you, that you left the house and ran to Polly.

When you were calm and Polly was ready to confront him, you, Tommy, and Polly went over to your place to find him slouched against the wall, a bloody hand and tears coating his cheeks. From that point, Tommy demanded he get clean, for his sake and for your sake.

Thankfully, he kept that promise until now, you are just finding out.

“Do you know where he ran off to?”

“No,” Finn shakes his head. “He just said he needed some snow then took off when he got it. Didn’t say a word.”

“Shit,” Tommy rubs his face, hearing a sob come from your mouth. “I knew he was going to hurt her at some point.”

“Someone has to go find him,” John announces.

“No,” you interrupt. “If he doesn’t want to be found, then don’t go and find him. I don’t want him to resent me for sending people to search for him.”

“(Y/N), he has to be here for your baby,” Ada says.

“I honestly don’t want him here if he doesn’t want to be.” Everyone remains quiet, knowing you don’t need anyone’s arguments.

“So, are you going to raise your child alone?” Arthur speaks up after a few minutes.

“I mean, I’m surrounded by family. I have all the help I need, right?” You realized you were taking a shot at assuming they would help you, but thankfully, they accept the idea.

“Of course, darling,” Polly happily says.

“You have the best family around, honestly,” Tomm grins. You smile and stand to give him a hug.

“I do. Thank you so much.”

“Anything for our littlest honorary sibling.”

As the months go by, Isaiah is still nowhere to be seen. No one has seen him around Small Heath, his own father has no clue where he’s at, and you received no letters or calls from him. So you assumed your marriage was over. He didn’t want to be with you anymore.

It was a sad, depressing thought, but you had to stay strong for your little one. You didn’t want to lose them too, so Polly advised you get Isaiah off your mind and focus on yourself. So that’s what you do.

“What do you think it is?” Ada asks you as she takes a seat on the couch next to you. John and Finn sit on the couch across from the two of you as Polly makes everyone tea.

“I think it’s a boy,” you smile, rubbing your protruding belly and kicking your feet up on the table.

“No, you’re having a girl,” Polly advises. “The way you’re carrying and how big you are, it’s most likely a girl.”

“Polly’s never wrong,” John states. “She predicted the sex of mine and Esme’s kids to the point where I just started accepting that she knows what she’s talking about.”

“And I do,” she says, stepping into the sitting room and handing everyone a cup. You thank her and sip it slowly.

“You really think it’s a girl?” You wonder with a small smile.

“I do. And she’s going to be as gorgeous as you.”

“I feel like she’ll have Isaiah’s eyes though,” you whisper. Everyone offers you a sad grin, knowing that you’re trying hard to forget him, but you can’t; you loved him too much.

The time has come, you were going into labor. Polly, Ada, and Esme had stayed with you while the men went to the betting shop, or the offices, wherever, to busy themselves and try to figure out how to find Isaiah.

“Good, just one more push and she should be here!” Polly encourages you. Labor had lasted longer than any of you expected, almost twenty hours of agonizing pain and contractions. It was nearing two in the morning and all of you were exhausted.

“Fucking shit!” You scream as you give one last push, then a feeling of relief washes over you and you can finally relax.

“She’s here,” Polly announces, holding your baby up for you to see. Through your tears, you smile and already notice she looks so much like her father.

“Let’s get both of you cleaned up. Esme, help (Y/N), Ada, come help me.” The two women do as they are told, Esme talking to you quietly as she finishes changing the sheets underneath you and helps you get comfortable.

“Have you got a name?” Polly questions, handing you your clean, newborn daughter, swaddled in a blanket.

“I was thinking Eden. Isaiah and I had so many talks about how he wants to keep the Biblical names in the family, so John and I sat down and went through names together. Eden is very beautiful.”

“It fits her perfectly. We’ll give you some time alone. Just call if you need anything. I’ll be up, but I’m sending Ada and Esme to bed.”

“Thank you, Poll. Seriously, I don’t think I would have been able to get through this without you and the others.” She smiles and presses a kiss to your forehead before doing the same with your baby.

“It’s my job to take care of family, darling.” With that, she leaves the room quietly and you stare down at your newborn daughter.

“Your dad may not be here, but we can do this on our own. Well, not totally on our own. We have the Shelby’s, and they’re amazing. And they’re going to be so happy to have another little one in the family.” She gurgles and stirs in your arms before settling back down. Her eyes open slowly and gaze up at you.

“Well hello. You really do have your daddy’s eyes, huh?”

You were in the middle of telling her how you and Isaiah met when the door suddenly opened. Polly argues as Isaiah stumbles in, eyes red and filled with sadness.

“Isaiah,” you whisper, your eyes landing on him for the first time in almost eight months.

“Maybe you should wait tomorrow. (Y/N)’s exhausted and needs the rest,” Polly says. He just shakes his head and continues to stare at you and Eden.

“I need to make things right this moment.” Polly looks at you with a questioning look. You nod in response, silently telling her that it’s okay for him to stay.

“Is it a boy or girl?” He asks once the door is shut. You know Polly didn’t really leave; she’s waiting right outside in case things go south.

“Girl. Eden.” His expression softens at the fact that you kept to wish of keeping tradition.

“Can I?” He hesitantly asks to take a seat next to you on the bed. Nodding, you shift a little to the right so he has space, but he stops you.

“No, it’s okay. Don’t move. I don’t want you hurting yourself or stressing your body out anymore.”

“I’m fine.” You stare down at your daughter, feeling the awkward tension between the two of you.

“What made you come back?” You ask. You hadn’t met his eyes again, worried that you would break and fall back into his arms instead of staying strong.

“I got a letter from my dad. He told me that you were close to going into labor and that they would be here any day. I knew I had to come back and make things right.”

“It took you nine fucking months to come back, huh?” Isaiah sighs, knowing this conversation was bound to happen.

“I was terrified, love.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Sorry. I knew I wanted to have kids with you, there was no doubt in my mind. But I wasn’t expecting it to happen within months of our wedding. I was hoping to plan out a time where we could try and have everything ready by the time we needed it.”

“Well, you never expressed that to me. You didn’t even stay and talk it out. You just up and left after telling me to get rid of it.” He nods and keeps his head down, bowed in shame.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, tears evident in his eyes. “I should have stayed and been there for you. Instead, I was a coward and ran from the most important thing to me, throwing my sobriety away because I was terrified of being a father so quickly after being married and not having any time to prepare.”

“You would have been an amazing father, Isaiah. I don’t understand why you were so scared. Or are so scared.”

“I...I saw what it did to my mum. I was scared that it would happen to you. That’s why I told you to get rid of it.”

“You never told me this.” He shrugs and messes with his cap in his hands.

“I didn’t want to worry you.”

“You did a lot worse leaving with no explanation.” Silence falls between you two as Isaiah finally looks down at his daughter.

“She’s so beautiful. Looks exactly like you.” You smile softly and caress her cheek with your fingertip as lightly as ever.

“She’s perfect. But she has your eyes.” You notice he’s itching to reach forward and do the same as you are doing, so you sit up a bit.

“Would you…?” You offer, shocking him just a little. He came back, fully expecting you to tell him off and say you never wanted to see him again. So the fact that you’re offering to let him hold her was a big surprise.

He holds his arms out as you place her into his grip. She moves around, trying to readjust to the new hold, but settles down and curls up in his arms. Right away, you see the tears streaming down Isaiah’s cheeks. This is the moment he’s been waiting for his entire life, and he missed it because he was an idiot.

“Holy shit, I can’t believe this is real,” he mumbles, trying to wipe his cheeks. Seeing his struggle, you lean doward and wipe them away for him. He thanks you quietly and goes back to staring down at his daughter.

“So, are you going to run off again? Did you just come back to see if she was actually born?” You wonder.

“I came back to make things right, like I said. I was stupid, I know. I wasn’t ready and instead of talking about it like an adult, I ran off and got high. My mind kept telling me I wasn’t ready, but I am. Seeing you and holding her right now, I have no idea why I left. It was a dumb choice and I’m hoping I can make it up to you. For a start, I’ll take care of her alone for an entire month.”

“Okay,” you chuckle, “that’s a bit excessive. How about, you help out here equally and give Ada, Esme, and Polly a rest?” He nods and smiles widely.

“Does that mean you forgive me?”

“Not exactly forgive you yet. But if you can prove you one hundred percent want this and will provide for us, I’ll forgive you. It’ll take time, but I’m willing to go through with it if you are.”

“I am. I’m ready to prove that I still want to be with you and I want to raise our daughter together.”

“Good. Now, please go get Polly to take Eden because I need some rest.”

“Sure. Do you want me to come back here or should I stay on the couch?” Thinking for a moment, you saw the regret in his eyes and the way he held Eden with such care and in a very nurturing way, you wanted nothing more than to spend time with him again.

“You can come back here.” With that, he gets up to go give your daughter to Polly. Sure enough, she was waiting on the other side, having listened in most likely, and takes the baby, bidding you two goodnight. Isaiah strips quickly before crawling into bed beside you.

You click the light off and curl into his warm body, humming in content at the missed feeling.

“I really wish you were here during my pregnancy. There were so many nights that I longed for your arms around me, telling me everything would be okay when I had doubts about it all.” Isaiah’s arms tighten around you and he presses gentle kisses to your forehead.

“I promise to be here for the next one, yeah? And I definitely promise to be here for Eden.”

“You broke your promise last time.” He knows exactly what you’re referring to; he promised not to hurt you in any way when you two finally announced your relationship to your family. But he had already gone and done that. So what made you so sure he would keep this promise.

“I was a dumb, twenty-one year old, in my first real relationship ever. Now, I’m almost twenty-four and married to the most understanding and beautiful woman in the world. You have my word.”

“But you left me only nine months ago?”

“I know, I know. It may be hard to trust me again, but during those nine months, I did a lot of thinking. And I can assure you that I want to be with you and I want you in my life. I love you so damn much and not a day went by that I didn’t think of you.”

His little speech made you tear up and give in. You missed him so much that the thought of having him back overcame your rising anger for him leaving. Within seconds, you were sobbing loudly into his chest as he consoled you.

“Shh, I’m here to stay, yeah? I’m going to give you and Eden the best lives that I can.”

“Promise?” He kisses your forehead again and holds you even tighter to his body.

“I promise with all my heart, my love.”

#isaiah jesus #isaiah jesus imagines #isaiah jesus imagine #isaiah jesus x reader #jordan bolger #peaky blinders #imagines #fanfiction #fanfic

[fascination-street-writing]

The Sea Isn’t Green, and I Love This Dream | Risotto Nero x Reader

Subtitled “Keep Smoking - I Still Love You”

If you were to look at him with those eyes of yours and smile in earnest, all for him, he would surely fall in love with you all over again. As if he ever stopped loving you in the first place.

- 2020 Holiday Gift - A Continuation of Sober to Death -

Content Warnings: Incidental Stalking, Unhealthy Smoking Habits, Past Relationships, Unhealthy Relationship Dynamics, Angst, Regret, & Referenced Child Abuse

It is the summer of 1998. Risotto has not left his apartment in days, for he has found no reason to; there have been no new contracts, no paperwork in need of filing, and no immediate issues with the newest recruit. But today, he will venture out under the brazen sun and purchase groceries for the upcoming week. If not for the matter of his own sustenance, it will at least keep Prosciutto off his back. As if it is any of the blonde man’s business whether his Capo is eating adequately or not.

As he coasts through the aisles, searching for pre-packaged dried pasta, jarred sauce, and some kind of fresh vegetable – because Prosciutto said so –, he feels the condescending, fearful stares of patrons without needing to acknowledge them. If it is not for his stature, then certainly the peculiar coloring of his eyes. However, the ogling no longer bothers him, simply because he does not let it; after all, he is no longer the boy who once lived in Palermo.

There is a sale on pre-sliced bread. Yet, even after the discount, the name-brand loaf is still more expensive than the off-brand. He settles for the latter. It all tastes the same to him, anyways. And if he can save a thousand lire, then it is all the better. Prosciutto, he supposes, would disagree and insist that the off-brand bread is cheaper for a reason. Risotto is reminded of exactly why he does not live with the man anymore. But he still makes a conscious effort to buy fresh produce.

Basket filled, Risotto heads towards the check-out line. He knows that he has neglected to grab a bag of oranges, as denoted by the crumpled list in his hand, and he does not intend to return for them. The carton of berries and fresh figs he found along the way will be enough. Though, he does loathe forgetfulness.

The line, as he discovers and much to his dismay, is backed up. The brevity of the situation is simply that the grocery store has been understaffed as of late. Something about gang-violence and an attempted robbery – nothing that concerns him or his men. A person in his line of work fears little. Or at least, that is the theory. His thoughts linger to the new recruit, whom Prosciutto has taken under his guidance. He has always had more patience than Risotto regarding such matters.

The young Capo has lost track of exactly how long he has stood in line. Denoted by the telling grumbles of an older man behind him and the pleading of his wife to calm down, Risotto knows that it has been a while, and unreasonably so. Glancing down at his basket, a questionable consideration comes to his impatient mind: it would not be difficult to slip away, shroud himself with his Stand, and leave the grocery store with his would-be stolen goods.

It is certainly nothing to lose sleep over. In the end, however, he decides against it. Perhaps to salvage his honor and dignity, otherwise challenged by the temptation of petty thievery. Or perhaps because the line has finally moved, and it is too late to back out now. There are only two customers ahead of him now. In moments such as this, he likes to pretend that he is normal – that he might be shopping for a family that waits for him in a home somewhere in the suburbs of Napoli.

But these times have passed, and although only a man of twenty-five, he is complacent with the life as a ceaseless bachelor. A hitman does not make for a good husband, nor a father. In retrospect, Risotto hardly believes that he would want to become either. At least, not anymore.

“Merda,” the woman at the front of the line groans. She sets down the wad of cash in her hand. “I’m ₤15,000 short. Can you just put the oil back? And the sardines.”

The grocery clerk is decent at masking his annoyance with a tight smile and curt nod. It is a commendable skill, though there is room for improvement, Risotto thinks. “God, I’m so sorry. I just moved here for a new job, and my money still hasn’t transferred over to my new bank account. I should’ve taken more cash out to begin with.”

The next woman reaches into her purse and produces a neatly folded stack of lira. She taps the shoulder of the first woman, who turns. In this moment, Risotto believes he has been pummeled through the stomach. There is no other explanation to the tightening of his chest, and the heavy beating of his heart.

There you stand, as beautiful as ever, despite your apparent vexation at your own foolishness. The money quickly passes from the kind woman’s palm to that of the cashier. “Grazie, signora,” you tell her.

At first, Risotto feels nothing, as if he cannot process that which he sees before him. And then, regret – pure and unadulterated. He does not hear what the woman says to you, because the thrum of his mind has made him deaf to everything except for the ringing of his ears. You have not noticed him, unlike every other customer in the establishment, and he would like to keep it that way. You accept the bag of groceries from the cashier, but Risotto does not stick around to see it. He has already pushed past the perturbed husband and wife behind him, with every intention of finding a new line to stand in. He does not care how tedious it will be to make it out of the store. He does not care if the tub of gelato in his basket melts, or if the berries turn to mush.

Risotto will do anything to spare the fleeting glance of the only woman whom he ever loved. And if that means waiting another twenty minutes, then by god, he will wait.

He wonders, as he sits in his office with a blazing cigarette dangling from his lips, if you still smoke. In truth, he has always known that you only ever did it to impress him. He wishes you would not have indulged in this solidary habit – in fact, he wishes you had not done a lot of things, like becoming his closest friend and adolescent savior. His first kiss, or his first lament in the pitfall of countless others.

Clouds cling to the ceiling, seeping into the walls and furniture. If his landlord were not so intimidated by Risotto, then surely the parsimonious man might evict him for ruining the apartment with the stench of cigarettes and the occasional blood stain on the carpet. He supposes that he ought to at least open the window. Just beyond his reach atop the desk is his computer. If he wants to, he can find out every miniscule detail of your adult life and more that has collected over the past seven years, since the moment he left you a young, broken woman who did not mourn him. Every bank transaction, gas receipt, and occasional splurge for an object attributed to various degrees of pleasure – where you are working, where you live, and why you have come back to haunt him.

It is none of his concern, and he does not have the right to pry; not after the hurt he has done unto you, back when you were still two lovers who were, well, in love. He hopes you have found some semblance of happiness, and he will not impede on whatever that may be. But, like an incurable ailment, confliction strikes him. Indeed, he told himself that it is not his guile to cause you further grief. And yet, Risotto yearns for you all over again.

All this time spent living in a world wherein he does not exist to you, how often did thoughts of him cross your mind? Did you think of his ghastly red eyes whenever you have welcomed a new paramour into your bed, and compare the sizes of their hands to his? Did you think of him each time you drove that hand-me-down junker of your father’s, avoiding the backseat like the plague until the engine finally died and you had no choice but to purchase a new car? How long did it take you to scrub out the stains from the upholstery and your skin?

As it were, keeping the distance between you two is effortless. But unearthing unhealed wounds, all in some venture of self-retribution to heal them right, is just as inviting. There is simply too much that might go wrong again – the risks, far too great. Dissociation has served him well enough thus far. Surely, he can keep it up, this manneristic habit of his. It is funny, he finds; that as teenagers, you had once promised that you would always be there for him. It was an undeserving luxury, and one that he often took for granted. Now, though he recognizes in his heart that he still needs you, he wants you gone. For his sake or yours, he knows not.  

But it would be nice to be held by you, one last time.

Breaking self-promises, like stepping on broken glass just to hear the crack, is an addiction. You are an addiction, and it was only a matter of time before Risotto had found himself in your company more often than he ought to. In any instance, he avoids your radar, and remarkably so. And yet, the tenacity of your existence drives him mad, and he finds himself asking – perchance under the steady trickle of water in the shower or as he lies in bed at night – if you are truly there, or nothing more than an apparition brought forth from his guilty conscious. That, though now he sees you comparing dress fabrics at the boutique across the street, it is conceivably not truly you but rather another woman – a stranger – with the same color hair.

Alas, you exist in both dreams and materiality.

Each moment that he stumbles upon you, from a respectable distance, he notices something irrevocably new: scuffed Mary Janes exchanged for pointed and polished kitten heels, and pleated skirts swapped for hand-tailored dress pants, creased to suggest your sophistication. As for him, he still wears torn jeans when in public. Unless of course, he is working – then it is a pair of striped pants reminiscent of a caricatured prison inmate’s uniform.

He notices, too, the greater attention taken to your hairstyling and makeup. Maturity is becoming of you, but he always thought you were pretty, even before you had learned how to properly apply eyeshadow and lip gloss. Your clumpy mascara never vied to drive him away. In fact, he rather liked it, but only because it was unapologetically you.

He does not mean to follow you to a café after you leave the boutique, arms cradling several shopping bags amongst your purse and a chic leather briefcase. Invisible to the human eye, Risotto falls in step at your side, so close that he can smell your perfume. It is no longer the olfactory copycat of whatever Versace musk you had always begged your mother to buy for you from the drugstore just down the street from your childhood home. Whatever it is now is unfamiliar, albeit comforting.

The café is quiet at this point in the afternoon. The baristas chatter amongst themselves at the counter, and the ambience music humming through the wall speakers is not unpleasant, although not entirely enjoyable, either. Unbeknownst to you, Risotto takes the seat across from you at the corner booth nearest to the window. It must be a coveted spot, he deduces, for the lighting here is impeccable. Mindful of the blackened coffee atop the table, you open your suitcase and produce a neatly pressed stack of photographs, clothing sketches, and glamour shots.

He observes all of it, and only then does he realize that the new career you spoke of to the grocery store clerk is one in the field of fashion design. And what better city in all of Italia to pursue such a thing than Napoli? He wishes he could have been there to witness the bloom of your success, first-hand – and more, he yearns to exist alone at your side for every last day that you both should live.

All of this at nothing more than your expense. Truly, something impermissibly unforgiveable, if he knew that his baggage – if his very being – is enough to hold you back from everything you deserve. It is why he left. At least now, he can see that his grievous mistake was not for naught.

Your coffee has gone cold. Too focused on correcting shading issues in your blueprints and selecting models for an upcoming show, you have neglected it. Did you even need the coffee, or was it just a show of your poise? How would you react, Risotto wonders, if he were to bring you a fresh cup and allow you to see him? Would you thank him – hug him even? Or scream, kick him away, and throw the scalding hot beverage in his face. He should pray for the former, though the latter would be the easiest to cope with. Because, if you were to look at him with those eyes of yours and smile in earnest, all for him, he would surely fall in love with you all over again. As if he ever stopped loving you in the first place.

He imagines what it must be like to be a part of your new life. He wants nothing more than to reach across the table, to place his shaken palm over the manicured hand clasped around the red felt-tip pen, and ask how your day has been. And the day before. And the day before even then. You might drop the pen too, only to lace your fingers with his and grin. “It’s been great, Ris,” you would say. “Really great, but even better now.”

Instead, you scribble notes in the margins with that same hand and tap your foot to the steady beat of music. How wonderful it must be for those who are capable of picking up where they once left off a lifetime ago. If, after all this time, you are so inclined to adore him again, then you must be the most winsome little fool in the world – but his, nonetheless.

Risotto cannot recall when last he received a contract from the Don, assigned explicitly to the silver-haired man. And so, rather than cooping himself away in the confines of his apartment, smoking until his stomach lurches and he might faint, he roams the city, pegging to the chance that he might find you. The fresh air – as fresh as the air in Napoli can possibly be – is good for him, anyways.

This afternoon, he finds you leaving the post office whilst balancing a packed cardboard box with outstretched arms. You are dressed down, just as he supposes that most normal people do on their days off. Curiosity baits him, like a bobble in the ocean; he shrouds himself and follows you up the cobblestone street ramp, past a row of municipal buildings, down the winding path behind one of many shopping plazas, and directly into the living room of your apartment. He never meant to get this far.

The smooth voice of Mina Mazzini echoes from the turntable atop a wrought-iron accent table placed beside an oak bookshelf containing more decorative figurines and houseplants than actual books. Certainly, your taste in music has not changed. Neither has your preference for caramel-scented candles. For a moment – ever so fleeting – he is a teenage boy again, standing just before bedroom window with his knuckles poised to rapt against the glass. He never told you, for he hid it well behind a stony expression, just how nervous he always felt before visiting you.

More than anything else in his adolescent life, he had feared that one day, you would turn him away. He scarcely cared when his mother verbalized her disgust and chastisement of the boy, or if his father struck him with the belt of his work jeans. Because, in the end, the abuse always gave him a reason to see you. You were his optimistic little silver lining,

Although your sense in interior design is far more elegant than your parents ever fancied, Risotto feels like he is finally home again. It must be the music and the candle – or perhaps it is just the grace of your presence in the setting of domesticity. You set the box on the coffee table and disappear into the kitchen, only to reappear with a stainless-steel knife. He understands his unwarranted intrusion, but just as he makes his way towards the door to leave, your cellphone rings.

“Ciao, Mamma!” you say as you switch to speakerphone. There is only static until your mother speaks to you.

She still sounds the same, though the strain of age weighs heavily on her tone. Suddenly, Risotto is throwing rocks at your window in the nighttime, avoiding the parched tithonias of your father’s garden with his battered sneakers. But this time, it is not you who beckons him in – it is your mother and her infectious altruism that he coveted because she cherished him more than his own mother ever did. She leads him to the dining room table, where you and your father wait, and presents to him a plate of pasta con le sarde.

“Ciao, bambina. Did you get that package I sent yet?”

No questions asked, unless only to inquire if he would like more to drink, or perhaps a second serving; your mother always made extra just in case he needed to get away from home for the night, or if his parents forgot to feed him. He misses his family – his real one, which he thwarted away for trifling revenge. The mere thought of it all sends pangs through his chest, and he thinks he has forgotten how to breathe properly. His mind veers into nothingness, but he knows that everything hurts.

“Mhm! It came today, actually. I’m opening it now.”

Petrified, he watches from across the room as you slice through the packing tape and begin sorting through the box’s contents – assorted bobbles and trinkets of your childhood that were unintentionally left behind after you had moved to Napoli. A few CDs, family photographs, and a work of ceramics-class pottery that had not survived its journey from Palermo. You do not seem bothered by it. Instead, you sweep away the fragmented pieces into a neat pile.

At the very bottom of the box is a scrapbook, ragged from the years of diligent pondering. Several of its pages have stuck together from excess globs of crafting glue. Risotto remembers your endearing hobby, and how embarrassed you had always been to show him your collection. And so, he never asked to see them, though not because he lacked the interest. It must be true that a person is shaped by their early experiences – you spent your youth collaging models with pretty clothes from the pages of magazines; now, you are a considerably successful fashion designer, given your age. Meanwhile, Risotto murdered a man at eighteen – and now, seven years later, he is Passione’s lead hitman. At least he is good at his job, too.

“Uh oh, that didn’t sound good. Don’t tell me that vase broke. I knew I should’ve wrapped it.”

Your dear mother: forgetful and heedless on occasion, though honest by it. You peel the scrapbook open and perch it on your lap, mindful of the delicate spine. Loose bits of glitter trickle from the pages and stick to your pants. Next falls a photograph, separated from the family ones, and wedged away for safe keeping. It is a still-shot of you and Risotto.

“Don’t worry about it! I can just glue it back together.”

However, to be honest, the vase is beyond repair; you have lied to your mother to soothe her guilt. Risotto’s attention has been taken by the photograph on the floor. There, you both sit on the floral-patterned couch that used to adorn your parents’ living room. You lean on his shoulder, beaming to the camera, as he stares ahead, stagnant. Truly, he wanted to smile and to throw his arm around you. He refrained; he did not want to look weak in front of your mother, who had taken the photograph that day.

Because his father never let him forget the vulnerability of emotions.

“Well, that’s good to hear. Listen, dolce, I’ve got to go. Tuo padre needs help in the workshop. But I’ll call you later. Ti amo, ti amo!”

In this moment, he lets his guard down, albeit inadvertently so. Metallica dissipates, and for the first time in what feels like forever – or at least, far too many years worth counting – Risotto Nero surmises that he might cry. As opposed to when you were both still young, it will be easier to run away now: no confrontation, and none of that selfish heartbreak. The gap between him and the door may be closed in two strides. In two strides, he will leave you again, for evermore. And even when he is gone, he will keep telling himself that this is for the best.

“Ti amo, Mamma.”

You reach down for the photograph. You had not meant to let it fall, though you suppose there is little use of it now, if not to keep it as a memento of your own perpetual loss. You dust it off and shake away the green and gold specks of glitter that adhere to the lamination. When the floorboards creak, you look up and meet the pleading gaze of the man whom you think you hate, and whom you think you love. You are good at pretending to do either. And thus, as you both wait in brooding quietude, you know not whether to call the police or to hurry into his arms. You are still, frozen in time – frozen in life.

As for Risotto, he longs for cicadas and katydids to break the terse silence that looms between you two.

Or maybe, just a cigarette.

| 3724 Words |

#risotto nero x reader #risotto x reader #risotto nero #jjba reader insert #jjba x reader

[ghost-party]

Next

Pairing: Nanami Kento x OC Word Count: 1.6K Warnings: death of a parent A/N: I’m currently reading the manga, but I’m not caught up yet. My brain just went “Nanami + books + meet-cute wholesomeness,” and here we are. I’m still trying to figure out how long this will end up being. And this is the first fanfic I’ve written in... well, a long time.

Nanami Kento has a bad habit.

He purchases books with every intention of reading them. The genre or subject doesn’t matter, as long as they leave him with a lingering curiosity after the first few pages. 

But he never seems to have the time to sit down and read them. No, that’s not right. He doesn’t make the time. Work keeps him busy. It also keeps him absurdly tired. He’s heard Gojo make the joke that sorcerers never sleep. He hates how true that feels. 

By the time he arrives home each night and goes through the motions of his usual routine — bath, dinner, chores, reports — he usually lacks the energy to focus on the words on the page. More than once, he’s woken in the early hours of the morning, bedside lamp still glowing, a barely-read book sprawled across his chest.

These days, he tries to exercise more self-control, reminding himself with the same discipline he brings to field work that his personal library is already at capacity.

But one day — a Friday, thankfully, and one that didn’t involve any overtime — he finds his resolve weakening at the sight of a small, nondescript bookshop tucked in between a florist and a corner café. 

It’s not very surprising that he’s never come across it before. He doesn’t usually take this route home. But having spent most of his day indoors, he had decided to make the most of the brisk autumn weather and prolong his walk.

He stands there, staring up at the sign — Twice-Told Tales — for what feels like an inordinate amount of time. With a frustrated huff, he gives in and steps inside.

A small bell jingles above him, and he’s enveloped in the familiar scent of old books, that subtle hint of vanilla. It always reminds him of his father’s study, with its built-in shelves and massive desk constantly cluttered with the detritus of his work. The same way that petrichor reminds him of walking home from school with his high school girlfriend, kissing her on the doorstep of her parents’ convenience store. (He’s not sure why that memory comes to mind now.)

Although he has a compulsive need for order in his personal life, a firm believer that everything in his apartment and on his person has a proper place, bookstores are, for whatever reason, exempt. Something about overflowing shelves, books stacked in precarious towers, organized by color or preference or size… It feels right.

And this particular shop seems to have found the sweet spot between order and chaos — just orderly enough to not overwhelm, but still brimming with the promise of surprises. Nanami loves few things more than discovering a book he hadn’t expected to find, or unearthing something he would never have thought to look for.

He’s thumbing through a well-worn travel guide — Budapest, one of the too many places he’s never been — when he hears footsteps approaching. He lifts his head and is struck by a strange, heady vertigo, like the floor has shifted beneath his feet.

From between the stacks toward the back of the store walks a woman. Mid-twenties, if he had to guess, wearing a dark green sweater and black pants. Her brown hair had been hastily pulled back and secured in a loose knot, wisps of it haloing her face. He takes in her small details — relaxed posture, lips quirked into a gentle half-smile, sleeves rolled to her elbows, revealing ink-smudged hands and a glimpse of a tattoo on her left wrist. (He was nothing if not exceedingly perceptive.)

When she looks up and meets his gaze, her smile widens. And before he can say hello, she says the last thing he would have expected: “I like your tie.”

Whenever someone told him that, it was nearly always a joke. After all, his usual tie — burnt yellow with bold flecks of black — was what many would call (and what Gojo did call, with an excess of enthusiasm) garish.

But this time, it’s sincere. And it briefly leaves him tongue-tied.

Finally, he manages a “thank you,” and he’s grateful that he doesn’t sound as confused as he feels. For whatever reason, he is finding it hard to look away. Luckily, she seems unbothered by the prolonged eye contact, still smiling.

“Your Japanese is very good.”

At that, she laughs. “That’s kind of you to say. I’ve lived here for a year, and I think I’ve improved. But I’m definitely still learning.”

He wants to ask where she’s from. He doesn’t know why. He wasn’t in the habit of asking personal questions of complete strangers. Instead, he says, “The shop name. It’s a reference to Hawthorne, isn’t it?”

She nods. “He was one of my father’s favorite authors. He had the name picked out before he’d even bought the building.” 

Nanami, to his surprise, feels the same way he does when he stumbles upon an intriguing book — he wants to know the rest of the story. Had her father retired? Or died? Is that why she had moved here? Uprooted her entire life to live abroad?

Why do you care so much? he asks himself. But he doesn’t have an answer.

“Is there anything in particular you’re looking for?”

He shakes his head. “Just browsing.”

“Well, if you need anything, let me know. I’ll be around.” 

In an effort to distract himself, he moves from shelf to shelf, perusing poetry, memoirs, thrillers, classics… He is pleased to find a small sitting area at the back of the store, two overstuffed armchairs beneath a window that overlooks a vegetable garden. Having picked up a new-to-him translation of Homer’s Odyssey, he decides to sit and read — at least for a little while. After all, it’s Friday. His usual routine could handle a wrinkle or two.

What he didn’t expect was to lose himself for two hours, until a kind, quiet voice breaks his concentration.

He looks up to find the shopkeeper seated in the chair beside him, holding two cups of what smells like mint tea. Her smile is halfway to a wince as she says, “Sorry... I hope I didn’t startle you. I made some tea and thought you might like some. Or there’s coffee, if you’d prefer that.”

“No, tea is fine. Thank you.” He accepts the cup and glances outside, noticing that the sun is already beginning to set. “I’m the one who should be apologizing. You’re probably closing soon.”

“Half an hour ago, actually. But I didn’t want to interrupt — I really don’t mind.” She nods toward the book resting on his knee. “Have you read it before?”

“Years ago. I’d forgotten how much I liked it.”

“I love that feeling. Like running into an old friend.”

They sit in companionable silence, drinking their tea, and Nanami feels calmer than he has all week. As if the instinctive tension he kept wound inside his body had loosened without him even noticing. It feels strange, in a pleasant way.

Perhaps that’s the reason why he finally asks, “You said this shop belonged to your father?” Using context clues, he opts for the past tense.

She nods. “For twelve years. But then he found out he had cancer, and it was too much work for him. I was in between jobs, had just gotten out of a long relationship…” Here, she pauses, and he notices something flicker in her gaze. But it’s gone too quickly. “And the lease was up on my apartment. So it felt like a sign, I guess. It took a lot of work, but I moved here. And when he died, I inherited this.” She gestures around at the shop. “And the apartment upstairs.”

“Why did you stay?” He’s startled by his own question, and when he notices her eyes widen, he continues, “I imagine it’s been lonely, with him gone, living in another country. You could have sold everything and moved back home.”

“That’s true.” She sets her now-empty teacup on the small table between them and curls one leg beneath her, leaning back into the chair. “I did think about it, at first. Because it all just felt so… overwhelming. But I wanted a fresh start, and that’s what kept me going. Now this feels more like home than my last home ever did.” She turns back to him, looking slightly embarrassed. “Sorry, that was a lot. You’re just easy to talk to.”

Yet another comment he isn’t used to hearing. If anything, he suspects he intimidates most people, with his blunt assessments and polite professionalism. But here is someone he barely knows, opening up to him like... a flower. A sunflower, he idly thinks, not sure exactly why he finds the comparison so fitting.

He glances down at his watch and reluctantly stands, grasping the book. “Thank you for the tea — and the conversation. But I should let you close for the evening.” He holds up Homer’s Odyssey and, indulging that bad habit of his, says, “I’ll take this.”

“Follow me. I’ll ring you up.”

When she hands him his receipt, she smiles at him again — that same open, warm smile that makes him feel like the world is tipping on its axis. It’s unnerving, that she can elicit such a reaction from him. But a small part of him also finds it fascinating.

“My name’s Olivia — Olivia Vale. What’s yours?”

“Nanami Kento.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Nanami-san.” She leads him to the door, keys jingling in her hand. “I hope you come back soon.”

“I will.” And he means it.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #nanami kento #nanami x oc #nanami kento x oc

[headinthe-fridge]

My Grandfather’s Lawyer (pt.6)

⁂ – Ushijima Wakatoshi x reader –  ⁂

warning: nsfw, swearing

Summary: Your grandfather, Washijo Tanji, disowned your mother when she was pregnant with you and her hatred towards him was passed on to you. Now, your estranged grandfather wants you to leave your life in Tokyo and come live with him in his estate in the Miyagi Prefecture.

You took a day off and a 6-hour trip, intending to give him a piece of your mind before disappearing from their lives forever. You didn’t expect to see an ailing and fragile old man. Your day trip stretched into weeks and soon, you patched things up with your estranged family and warmed up to everyone -except to one: Ushijima Wakatoshi -your grandfather’s lawyer.

He thinks you have ulterior motives in reuniting with your grandfather.

You weren’t suppose to care what he thinks of you. His opinion didn’t matter.

But it did.

Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

AN: As promised, here’s part 6! This was a double udpate so if you haven’t read part 5, link is above this! :))

-----

“Well, here’s something you should be afraid of.”

It’s been two weeks since your episode with Ushijima at the hospital garden. Because of your conversation with him, the moment you slipped back inside your grandfather’s ward, you immediately told him that you would stay, for a time. 

Of course, your grandfather was ecstatic and his happiness made you momentarily forget you major irritation for Ushijima Wakatoshi -who, in your opinion is the greatest villain of all villains in the ‘The Story of My Life.’ 

How dare he? How dare he use emotional blackmail against me? You fumed.

Your cousins were elated and excited to have you as well, except for Hoshina. Not news, you were kinda expecting that. Your first problem was clothes. You didn’t bring any when you boarded the train that day but the twins were quick to help you with that. So you spent three days running around the mall, going on a shopping spree -you tried to avoid ridiculously expensive branded clothing but the twins just kept on deviating towards it.

You mentioned your financial concerns to Kuroo but he shrugged it off, saying you had 22 years worth of money to splurged -care of your grandfather. That didn’t help much with your guilt but nothing you can really do about it.

Next was your job back in Tokyo. You gave Kiyoko the heads up that you won’t be returning home, indefinitely, and the cafe manager, despite his disappointment, had no other choice but to find a replacement -which he found in Hinata Shoyou, a friend’s friend.

So far, your stay was pleasant and you were steadily building your relationship between your cousins (save Hoshina) and your grandfather. Hoshina was complicated, there were many time when you thought she was going to approach you, in a peaceful manner, but then proceeds to glare and scowl at your at the last second. It bummed you, honestly. You never had a sister (and so did she) so you wanted to reallyyyy bond with her. But, she was as stubborn and hard-headed as you are. 

You asked the twins one time where their parents are and they said Kuroo’s parents are on a business trip in Singapore, their father (your uncle, second eldest) is in Sendai, managing his own business -a publication- their parents were divorced and they rarely see their mother who has her own family in Southern part of Japan. Hoshina’s are in Tokyo, securing a deal for the family business.

While your grandfather remains the company president, Hoshina’s father is the CEO and her mother the COO. Despite being the youngest son, it seems her father was the most reliable when it came to business.

So all in all, these two weeks sped by unceremoniously. Your aunts and uncles were quite excited to meet you as well. And you were relieved that Hoshina’s attitude wasn’t from her parents. 

Your train of thoughts came to a halt when your phone rang. You placed down the glass of water on the countertop to reach for it in your pocket. Your cousins were all busy -of what, you didn’t know, but they all had lives before you came so accepted that fact that you’re gonna be alone for the rest of the day, while your grandfather is having his rest -you just came back from his room. As for Ushijima -well, you don’t give a damn about his whereabout. You haven’t spoken to him since the hospital incident.

“Kiyoko?” You asked upon answering but a different voice spoke over the speaker.

“y/n-chaaan, are you not coming back?” Cried the person at the other end of the line.

A soft chuckle escaped your lips. “Hey, Tooru-chan, I miss you too.”

Oikawa Toruu was your senior in high school. He was the one who got you interested in the medical field so you always looked up to him as your mentor. He is currently completing his residency at a hospital in Tokyo.

“I was about to comeback home but my grandfather got sick. I decided to stay to take care of him.”

“Please tell grandfather-chan to get well soon. Iwa-chan misses you too.”

You smiled fondly at the mention of his boyfriend. These two are quite inseparable. You talked for a while, catching up and hearing stories from back in Tokyo. You felt homesick all of a sudden, you missed your friends.

“Yeah, I’ll see you soon. Call me anytime!”

“Byebye, y/n-chan. Love yah!”

“Love you too, Tooru-chan.” You replied affectionately and ended the call. You were about to reach for the glass of water again when someone spoke.

“So, Tooru-chan, I gather, is someone special to you?” 

You whipped your head around, facing the lawyer with a scowl. The man had a deep frown on his face, shooting daggers at you -well, what’s new with that?

“So the real reason why you wanted to go back to Tokyo immediately was because someone was waiting for you?”

“A respectable lawyer wouldn’t eavesdrop on personal phone calls.”

“I heard you mention your grandfather’s condition so I got curious.”

“And why would it make you curious?”

He clicked his tongue. “Well, let’s just say I was beyond surprised when you decided to stay when the last time we talked, you were vehement on going back to Tokyo. I can’t help but wonder what your grandfather promised you to make you stay. More so, he put me into work after the two of you talked privately.”

“Promised? What do you mean? And so what if he made you work, don’t you work for him?” You asked though you already have a hunch on what the lawyer meant.

It made your blood boil to say the least.

“I’m his lawyer and I am the first to know everything that he wants to do with his properties and wealth and to whom he will bequeath them.” He said nonchalantly but you knew there’s an underlying meaning. “I always remind him to work on his last will and testament but he always put it off. Then all of a sudden, right after he talked to you, he called for me to arrange the documents.”

“Look, I don’t know why you’re telling me this but I do know that the nature of your work doesn’t involve betraying your client’s confidentiality.”

“I’m certainly aware of that but that is if the client wants it to be confidential. In the case of you grandfather, he hides nothing from his family, and with you as his grandchild I know that one of these days, he will talk to you about it -that is if he hasn’t told you yet.” He explained then smirked. “Or am I right that in one way or another, you influenced him in his decisions?”

Your jaw clenched at what Ushijima was insinuating. “You keep talking in circles. If you want to say something, spit it out! Get straight to the fucking point.” You spat but it didn’t affect the man a tiny bit.

He scoffed before advancing towards you. “Why are you so angry? We’re just talking, why be so defensive?” He took another step but you held your ground. “Guilty? Tell me, is that your condition with your grandfather, to give you almost everything and in return, you will stay here?”

Anger welled up within you, churning your insides, red filled your vision and the next thing you knew, your palm collided with Ushijima’s cheek with full force. A loud slap reverberated around the hall while your palm felt numb.

You didn’t give a damn, not even when Ushijima’s eyes burned in fury as he cupped the reddening cheek.

“So after knowing that you’re a Washijo heir you think you have the right to do that?”

If looks could kill, you would be laying dead by now

But you can’t lose to him. You don’t want to lose to Ushijima Wakatoshi. “You think you can scare me? Think again. I’m not sorry I slapped you and I’ll do it again -wholeheartedly if I must, the next time you accuse me of something that never crossed my mind!”

“You’re really brave, huh.” He dropped his hand and took a step even close, staring you down. “Well, here’s something you should be afraid of.”

In one swift, his hands caught your head and whatever you wanted to say got stuck in your throat when Ushijima sealed your mouth with his in a searing kiss.

Part 7

Taglist: @thegrumpyhag​ @sushij1ma​ @valoryess​ @yakus-yakult​ @ly-nia​ @ushi-please​ @plutoglass @kokofirebangbomb​ @strawberryy-milkk @melanieacademy​ @defunkitatedmess​ @lunarknox​ @wtoshii​ @kyomihann​ @multishippers-trash-blog​ 

#haikyuu #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu reader #haikyuu x you #ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima x you #ushijima x reader #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #ushijima wakatoshi x you

[love-fireflysong]

Hey hey hey! Trope #3 is in the bag baby! Nothing exciting to note about this one, except that poor @jesus-hotsauce-christmas-cake guessed the number while hoping for some more chrashley. And instead she landed on one of the Tale of Phantasia prompts (I’m so sorry, oops!)

For anyone that would like to read it on ao3, here ya go: What are Rivals if not Friends in Disguise and for the rest, the fic is under the cut.

What are Rivals if not Friends in Disguise

Trope: Rivals Fandom: Tales of Phantasia Characters: Chester Burklight, Cress Albane Words:  2036 Rating: General Author’s Notes: Let’s do a ToP story to mix things up a little! Just a little of Chester and Cress growing up together and trying to one up each other like all the time. Ah friendship rivals, what would we do without them.

For as long as Chester could remember, Cress had been his best friend. The two of them would run together, play together, train together, and fight together. Most of their friendship was based on trying to one up each other honestly, trying to prove who ran the fastest or was strongest. And for a long time Chester had thought that that would be his life, trying to prove that he was better than Cress.

And then Chester’s parents died and his life as he once knew it had spiralled out of his control.

One day he was a simple ten year old boy whose only mission in life was to play with his best friend and tease his sister, and the next he was an orphan with a five year old sister to take care of, a house that now seemed unbearably empty, and the bow in his right hand that was the only reminder he had of his mother. Gone were the days of carefree play, now when he woke up it was make breakfast, wake Ami, clean the house, go shopping, make lunch, fumble his way through trying to patch up a hole in his shirt, wash the blood from the shirt when he inevitably stabbed himself, make supper, clean up the house, and tuck Ami into bed, before falling asleep himself.

Not that the other villagers hadn't tried to help out of course. Cress's mother Maria came over as often as she could to teach him how to sew and bandaged his fingers every time he screwed up. Gloria from across town would usually drop off some leftover stew or the extra bread she had made by accident. Whenever he stopped in to buy groceries from Goalie, Findley always seemed to have a sale going on that let Chester buy far more than he should have with the ten gold he had been able to scrape up from doing odd jobs around Toltus. And anytime he had to go and wash the clothes in the stream that cuts through town, Ruth almost always materialized next to him with her own family's laundry to do and help him out. They tried to make it seem like it was always chance that they needed his help with some trivalty, but Chester knew better: they pitied him and thought he couldn't do it, that he wasn't strong enough to take care of the only family he had left.

But it was fine. The only thing that mattered was trying to give Ami some semblance of a normal life, even if he almost always managed to burn supper just a little bit and tended to miss sweeping the corners of the room. He tried, and he knew that the others thought they were helping so he swallowed his pride and accepted the help anyways. If it made Ami smile then it was worth it in the end in his point of view.

The worst thing about all this though was he couldn't hang out with Cress anymore. Not that Cress had a whole lot of free time either now. Since his tenth birthday, training with the sword had only ramped up and now all his time seemed to be spent running through drill after drill, and strengthening his body so he could do more and more physically demanding artes. And everytime he came by to show Chester the newest move he could now accomplish, Chester burned with jealousy and hated that though the two of them had once been on even playing fields with almost everything, he was quickly falling behind.

And so, one night months later, Chester found himself grabbing his mother's bow from where it had been gathering dust against the wall by his parents bed and sneaking out into the area behind the house. Earlier on in the evening he had set up some targets facing the stream, and with the heavy and familiar—yet almost forgotten—weight of the quiver on his back, Chester took his stance that his mother had drilled into him over and over again all those years ago. He tried to pull back the string on the bow and was horrified to find that it was almost impossible. Had he really lost so much strength in so little time? Taking a deep breath and centering his weight, Chester tried again and while this time he was able to pull it back a bit further, it was still not nearly enough to successfully shoot an arrow five feet, much less the twenty he needed to hit the target.

Terrified that he had really fallen behind that much, Chester stole into his house, and careful not to wake Ami, uncovered the bow that he had been using months ago, the one that his father had helped him build for his eighth birthday. And a couple of quick test pulls from the safety of his room revealed to his utter relief that while he wasn't able to draw it back with quite as much ease as he used to, it was still about to pull it back fully. His mother's bow had just been too big for him, he had to get stronger first before he could use that one. And he would, he promised that he would get strong enough to not only draw that bow to its full potential, but protect Ami as well.

The first night of his training was terrible though. While the first shot he takes does fly from the bow, it lands much too short from the target. The second he overcompensates with power and it flies wide and lands into the river with a soft plop. The third and fourth and all the ones after that are all the same. While some started to land closer and closer to the targets he had placed, none of them actually hit the targets in question. It isn't until he moves the target much, much closer that he's able to finally land one; the accomplishment fills him with as much relief as it does horror. He can't believe he fell so far in such little time. Nonetheless, he continues his practice and when he finally does go to bed that night with the moon high in the night sky, it's with his arms and shoulders burning from the overexertion and he revels in it.

He can't control the fact that he has no family other than his sister anymore, and he can't control that he has been forced to grow up in so little time. But this, this he can control. He can control the flight the arrow takes through the sky and so he will.

From then on, his days are spent much the same as they were since he lost his mother and father, but now he takes time to oil and polish his mother's bow so it will be ready for him to use one day. And on the days he has the time, he will spend it with Cress in the dojo, training his body to its full potential. He races with Cress every chance he can get now, whether it is to the well or to Goalie to the forest's edge. They have challenges over who can carry the most logs or the most water. Over who can do the most push-ups. Find out who the strongest and fastest of them is. And sure, he tends to lose more often than not now, but whether Cress realizes it or not, Chester refuses to fall behind again.

The first time he tried to go out hunting again with the others was a challenge. Not because the hunt itself was hard or dangerous, but because he's worried about leaving Ami all alone for the entire day. She's only seven now after all, still far too young to be left home alone. And yet, she shoves him out the village walls, cheeks adorably puffed out in anger and hands on her hips when tells him not to come home without food. He worries the entire time, but his aim is true and manages to fell a small boar that the others let him keep as a trophy for his first kill in far, far too long. It's a feeling he missed, the thrill of the hunt and hunting with his best friend alike, and when he arrives back home it's to the house even more spotless than when he’d left that morning and stew bubbling happily away on the stove. He later finds out that a couple of other women, Maria and Gloria included, had come over when Ami had begged and pleaded that they show her how to cook and clean properly so that Chester doesn't have to all the time. And while he certainly does continue to take a majority role in keeping the house, knowing that Ami will be safe and can easily take care of herself while he's gone is a load off his back.

The promise of a hot meal when he gets back certainly helps as well.

Over the next few years, Chester learns many things through his rivalry/friendship with Cress. He's definitely the faster of them for one—even when Cress isn't wearing his sword or armour—but Cress has the stamina. Chester will tire out the quicker of them when traveling long distances, while Cress will just happily continue ahead for another few hours without realizing that he had tired out a long time ago. Chester also finds a humorous rivalry with Cress for Ami's affections, but he's pretty sure that that one is a little more one-sided considering that Cress isn't even aware of the huge crush that his best friend's little sister has on him.

It is the day after his fifteenth birthday though that Chester stands in front of the bow that was once his mother's. Gingerly he picks up the smoothly polished wood, gleaming in the sun coming through the window, and restrings it with the care and reverence that he feels this bow deserves. And taking a deep breath, he gives a couple of test pulls and finds that the wood bends easily in his hands, much easier then when he had first tried pulling it nearly five years ago. Pleased with that much at least, Chester ruffles the top of Ami's head as he leaves the house, letting her know that he's going to be spending the day hunting in the nearby forest with Cress and to try not to burn down the house while he's gone. She sticks her tongue out at him, but reminds him to be safe and try to be home for supper that evening.

When he meets Cress at the edge of the village, Cress notices the new and much larger bow on his back with upturned eyebrows but says nothing about it, instead starting to stretch his limbs for the race that they both know is coming. Chester stops by him and with a shared grin, the two of them get ready with a runner's stance before racing each other to the forest as fast as they can. Unsurprisingly to both of them, Chester pulls ahead quickly but starts to flag after a few minutes giving Cress a chance to catch up with his slower but more steady pace.

It only takes them another ten or so minutes to reach the forest, which Cress reaches first by pulling out a burst of speed he had saved away at the very tail end of the race. Chester joins him only a few seconds later, and the two of them are gasping for air as Chester throws his arm over Cress's shoulder congratulating him on his win, but letting him know that he'll get the next one. Cress only laughs, and accepts the water pouch that Chester holds out, taking the victor's swig before handing it back so Chester can do the same. Once they manage to catch their breaths, the two of them ready their weapons and stalk into the forest for prey.

The first shot that Chester makes with his mother's bow flies straight and true, and further then he could have ever possibly imagined.

#my writing #pride month prompt challenge #tales of phantasia #Chester Burklight #Cress Albane #this one feels a little awkward to me but i tried #hopefully the next one comes out better!

[songsoomin]

Let Me Down  Part 3 (A, F)

Synopsis: CollegeStudent!Mingi x CollegeStudent!FemaleReader, BestFriend!Yunho. You’re still struggling without Mingi but circumstances lead you to get closer to Yunho.

Song inspiration: “From the Heart” Another Level (Not related but I would kill to hear Jongho sing this song)

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Warnings: None really, just a suggestive line towards the end.

Word count: 10.5K (I’m so sorry)

Posted: 6th July 2020

Note: I just got this photo off Google but I think it must have been made by someone going by the name ‘Fix On’ because the tag is on there - so just making it clear it is not my photo.

Part 1 Part 2

"Can we have more water for our table, please?"

"Sure, I'll just get that for you." You said politely as you went to get the water for Table 7.

"Y/N, Table 10 are ready for their mains now and Table 5 want their bill." Your supervisor, Max, told you as you headed back with the water.

"Sure thing." You said, wishing your shift was already over but you were only an hour into it. It was lunchtime on a Saturday so the restaurant you worked at part-time was rammed, as usual. You had graduated but still hadn't found a permanent job yet.

"Y/N, you look exhausted - are you ok?" One of your colleagues, Tiffany, asked you as you took a few seconds to breathe at the till station as you printed out Table 5's bill.

"I don't know...I've felt tired for the last couple of weeks now. I'm probably just low on iron, I haven't had much appetite lately." You admitted, "I'll get some supplements after work."

Since you last saw Mingi you hadn't been eating properly again. Impossibly, saying 'goodbye' to him for a second time had caused you much more pain than the first one. You should never have given in to your emotions and slept with him that night. You gave in because you weren't strong enough to say 'no' when he was right there looking at you like he used to - like he still loved you - but you didn't have the courage to take him back and risk being hurt again. Now, it had become clear that your heart also wasn't strong enough to deal with the fall out from that decision. You'd fallen into the same cycle you had the first time; not eating, not sleeping, trying to ignore the aching in your chest but while you were trying your best to carry on with your life without him, you were really just walking around like a zombie. Just existing while all the life had been drained out of you.

"You should look after yourself better." Tiffany said, concerned. She was older than you and married with two children and her natural mothering instincts seemed to come out with everyone. "Especially working on your feet in such a busy place like this."

"I know. My appetite has been almost non-existent since I've been a bit sick and when I get home I'm too exhausted to do anything. It's just a bug but I'll try to eat better - I promise."  She looked at you skeptically but let it go.

You carried on with your shift, running here and there after demanding diners but just felt worse as it wore on. You had picked up quite a few shifts lately so it was no surprise you had worn yourself out but you needed the money. You were living on your own now since Suzy had moved in with Lucas after graduation and Jina had moved back home. Your parents owned their own company and had bought you a small one bedroom apartment - nothing fancy, just enough for you - but you still needed to pay the bills.

Coming to the end of your shift you started to feel dizzy and nauseous again but soldiered on, thinking if you could just get through it you could go home and sleep. As you were passing the bill to one of the tables in your section you all of a sudden started to lose all your focus, darkness washing over you and you felt yourself slipping.

"Y/N?" You felt something cold and wet being pressed against your face as you blinked your eyes open to see Tiffany looking down at you. She was seated next to you as you lay on the couch in the staff room. You obviously looked confused at the situation as she gently explained, "You passed out. Max carried you in here and asked me to take care of you."

"I what? I'm so sorry." You apologised trying to sit up but doing it too quickly and feeling dizzy again.

Tiffany passed you a vitamin energy drink and told you to keep still and drink it. While you drank it, you noticed she was eyeing you, as if there was something she wanted to ask but wasn't sure how.

"Is there something wrong? You look a little uncomfortable." You said, smiling a little, trying to ease her discomfort.

"Well...I'm just worried about crossing the line. We're just work colleagues so I don't want to pry into personal matters." This had you confused so you asked her to go on, curious to know what on Earth she was thinking.

"It's ok, you can ask what you want. I can see something is bothering you."

"Ok..." She started slowly, "You said you'd had a bug recently and it had made you sick...."

"Yeah, I have. I'm still feeling it a bit - I was nauseous before I fainted, actually." You recalled the last thing you remembered feeling before you woke up here.

"How long has it been going on for?" Tiffany enquired gently.

"Oh...I'd say about two weeks really. It comes and goes though." You still didn't know where she was heading with this; you imagined she was going to nag you to see a doctor, though.

"Each day but mostly in the morning?"

"Yeah..." You blinked in surprise, "How did you know?"

Tiffany sighed, "Y/N...I think you may be pregnant."

You sat there looking at her like an idiot for a second. There was no way.

"Don't be silly. I just haven't been looking after myself. I'm just run down, that's probably why I feel so bad."

"Y/N...I have two children, I know the signs of early pregnancy. Morning sickness, tiredness, fainting - I'd bet you have tender boobs, as well, right?" That last bit shocked you a little. It was true, you did but you thought that it was just because your period was due. Now you really thought about it, though, you realised it had been a while since you'd had one.

"But...I can't be." You said, still thinking Tiffany was overreacting a little. "I haven't been with anyone since my ex and we always used con-" You stopped short as the realisation hit you. "Oh."

You and Mingi had always used condoms. Except that one night about six weeks ago.

Mingi, I want you inside me.

Baby, I don't have any protection on me. I didn't expect this to happen.

Mingi! I need you. Please fuck me.

You hadn't thought about it the morning after, hungover and too caught up in the pain of letting him go again.

"I think you should go and take a test, Y/N. As soon as you feel up to moving."

You nodded dumbly at Tiffany, desperately hoping she was wrong and that the symptoms were just a coincidence. An hour later, however, you were sitting in your bathroom crying and staring at two little blue lines.

                                                      ********

It had taken you days to accept the situation you found yourself in and then a few days more before you could face telling your parents about it. They had been really supportive, although, a little disappointed that you were in this situation due to being drunk and stupid. They told you that they would support you in whatever decision you made so you set about trying to decide if you were really ready to be a mother or if it was better to end the pregnancy.

You'd always wanted children and, at one time, you had even imagined having them with Mingi - somewhere in the future - but Mingi wasn't the father you needed for your baby. He was immature and unreliable. Your parents lived quite far away now and were busy running their company. Suzy and Jina had promised their support and offered advice as best they could but Jina also lived some way away and Suzy had her own life and her job to worry about. You knew they would all help as much as they could but you couldn't ask them to neglect their own lives for you. If you were going to do this, it would be alone.

After much soul searching and many sleepless nights, you decided you would keep this baby. You weren't against abortion, per say, but it wasn't for you. Deep down you knew you would never be able to go through with it.

Now you just needed to prepare as best you could and really hope you could do this.

                                                       ********

You were nearly 3 months gone now; not showing yet but some of the worse symptoms were still there. You were starting to fell a bit more energetic but the morning sickness hadn't gone away yet. You really, really hoped you wouldn't turn out to be one of those unlucky women who had it for the whole 9 months. Today, however, you were still very much feeling it when you ran into Yunho.

"Y/N! Oh my god - I haven't seen you since graduation." Yunho beamed at you, "How have you been?"

"Hi Yunho!" You said, giving your tall, blonde friend a hug. True you hadn't seen him for a while and you had been close until about three months ago but avoiding Mingi meant avoiding all his friends, as well.

"What are you up to? Do you want to grab a coffee?" Yunho asked in his usual warm and friendly manner and you couldn't resist; you weren't good at making new friends so it had been a while since you'd had anyone to chat to like this.

"Sure, I'd love to. “I am quite thirsty after shopping." You said looking for the nearest coffee shop and spying a nice-looking one a couple of shops down. "Is this one ok?"

"Oh, yeah, this one is nice - I've been here a few times." Yunho said as you walked together. As you walked through the door, though, a particularly rough bout of nausea hit you and you darted for the bathroom, dropping your bags on the nearest table and trying to convey an apology to Yunho as you ran.

You must've been in the bathroom for about five minutes being sick and trying to think of something to tell Yunho - after all, he was Mingi's best friend and, whether right or wrong, you were trying to keep this from him. You didn't want him involved. Eventually the sickness passed and you made your way back out to the front of the coffee shop.

You reached the table Yunho was sitting at to find him with a coffee already and, opposite him on the table, a glass of water and a small packet of ginger biscuits.

"I hope you don't mind; I got these for you." He said, smiling. "My cousin had a baby recently and said ginger biscuits really helped ease her morning sickness."  

"Yunho...What are you talking about?" You said, trying to sound light, as if he had jumped to the wrong conclusion. In reality, you weren't doing a good job of it, you could hear the hint of anxiety in your own voice.  

"These rolled out of your bag when you dropped them on the table." You looked at the small bottle Yunho held in his hand - it was the pregnancy vitamins you had bought earlier. You looked away, not knowing what to say. There was no denying it now.

"So who's the lucky guy?" He said, trying to ease the tension.

"Mingi." It came out as a mumble but he heard it fine given the shocked look on his face.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"It's Mingi's baby." You looked down at your hands, feeling uncomfortable.

"Right. Ok." Yunho looked lost in thought for a moment - probably trying to work out how, given you left Mingi about six months ago but you were clearly in early pregnancy.

"Graduation night." You explained simply.

"Ooohhhh! I remember!" Yunho exclaimed, "He didn't come home that night but the next morning he came back in such a state. He wouldn't tell us what happened, though."

You recounted the details of the evening to Yunho; about the man who tried to assault you, how Mingi saved you from him and that you spent the night together. You didn't go into detail except to admit that you'd both been half-drunk and had failed to use protection.

Yunho nodded in understanding but seemed bothered by something, "I know he's been a mess lately but why didn't he tell me about this? I'm his best friend."

"He doesn't know." You mumbled, looking at your hands again.

"Y/N....don't you think he has a right to know? He's going to be a father." You looked up to find Yunho looking at you but not in a judgemental way - more sympathetic.

"I know and I've struggled with it. I've wanted to tell him but he isn't capable of being the father my baby needs. He can't even look after himself, how would he look after a family? He constantly lied and let me down just so he could have fun - he only ever thought about himself."

"I'm not saying you should take him back but I do think you should tell him. He deserves that much." Yunho replied gently, seeing how upset you were becoming.

"I know it's selfish of me...but I don't know if I could stand him being in my life - seeing him but not being with him. I still love him, Yunho." You spoke earnestly, hoping he could understand. "I'm sure he probably has someone else now and, to be honest, I wouldn't be able to bear seeing him and some other woman playing happy families with my child."

"There's been no one else, Y/N." Yunho admitted, surprising you. "He's been an absolute mess since you left him. He was starting to get it together but after graduation night he fell further. He goes out to work but that's all he'll leave the apartment for. When he gets home he just shuts himself away. Hongjoong and I are really worried about him, he doesn't sleep well and drinks more than is good for him."

As you took in this new information the ache in your chest, that never went away, throbbed. It hurt to hear that Mingi was hurting so badly but it didn't change your decision.

"All the more reason why he can't be my baby's father. Please, Yunho," you almost begged the man sitting opposite you, "...please don't tell him."

Yunho looked uncomfortable and you knew he didn't like to keep something this big from his best friend but he agreed nonetheless, "Ok, I won't tell him but I really want you to rethink doing it yourself."

The atmosphere turned a bit lighter from then on; you fell into a comfortable conversation about work and life in general until you realised it was getting later and you had an appointment to go to.

"I'm sorry to have to go, Yunho but I actually have my first ultrasound scan today." You apologised while gathering your bags.

"You're not going alone are you? You said earlier that you didn't really have anyone close by." You smiled at the look of concern on your friend's face; he'd always been a good listener and cared for others so much.

"I'll be fine, Yunho. You don't need to worry about me."

"Y/N, you can't see your baby's heartbeat for the first time and have no one to be there with you. I won't let you." The look of determination on his face suddenly turned less confident, "I mean, as long as that's ok - I don't want to intrude but you should have someone to share such a special moment with."

You couldn't disagree with him; it would feel a little lonely. If your parents were closer you would have asked your mum to come with you. You also didn't want to ask Suzy to use one of her allotted leave days from work for you. Although you had accepted you'd be doing this pregnancy alone, you had to admit it would be nice to share moments like these with someone - even if it was just a friend.

"Come on then, I'd love to have some company."

Yunho beamed and stood with you to leave, offering one arm for you to hold and the other to carry your shopping as you made your way to the clinic.

You laid on the bed while the sonographer squeezed the gel on to your pelvic area and used the ultrasound probe to spread it around; you were really excited to see your baby for the first time. Yunho sat quietly on a stool next to you looking quite curious himself, having not seen one of these scans before.  

The sonographer found your baby and pointed out the head, arms and legs and, most importantly, the heartbeat. You looked at the screen in awe at the tiny fluttering heart and when the sonographer turned the sound of the machine up you could hear the whooshing sound each beat created. You looked back at Yunho with tears in your eyes and he smiled back and took your hand in his large one and gave it a squeeze for emotional support. You were so glad you'd accepted his company; it would have been sad to experience this all alone.

You both sat there watching the screen as the sonographer took the measurements and declared you to be 11 weeks and 5 days pregnant and gave you your due date. Lastly she printed out some pictures of your baby and popped them in a little envelope for you to take home. Once back outside you had to make your first appointment to see the obstetrician for your 16 week check. The receptionist was very friendly and told you all the things you would need to bring along.

"We'll need to know your family medical history, details of any medicines you take...basically the more info you can give the doctor, the better. Oh, and Daddy, we'll need your family's medical history, as well."

"Oh, he's not the -" You tried to correct her but she wasn't listening.

"So, we'll see you in about four weeks." The friendly receptionist finished with a smile.

You figured it didn't matter anyway, you could just let the doctor know at the next appointment that you didn't know the father's family history.

Yunho walked you back to your apartment, chatting with you the whole way.

"Thank you for being there with me today, Yunho. I really appreciated your support."

"Anytime, Y/N." Yunho waited as you found your key and opened your door then popped your bags just inside.

"Listen...I don't want you feeling you have to go through all this completely alone." He began, "I may not be able to do much but I can at least come with you to appointments if your family can't be here and keep you company, if ever you feel lonely here all by yourself."

"Yunho, I really appreciate the offer but I don't want to take up your time." You smiled at Yunho's caring and generous nature but didn't want to be an imposition to him.

"Y/N. Don't be silly. My work place is really flexible and I don't have much on otherwise. Anyway, we've known each other since school, I think you can let me be there for you as a friend."

"Thank you, Yunho, that means a lot."

"Anytime." He rubbed your arm gently and made his way down the hall of your apartment complex.

                                                     ********

Just over four weeks later you were arriving back at the clinic for your 16 week check with the obstetrician when you heard a familiar voice,

"You didn't call me." You looked around to find Yunho leaning against a lamp post, waiting for you.

"I was going to....but I thought I'd be being a nuisance." You smiled as he walked towards you.

"Why do you think I'm here," he laughed, "I knew you'd think like that. We may never have been super close but I've known you for a long time."

"Fine.” You smiled up at him, “Let's go in then."

The appointment went well, the doctor checked your health and listened to the baby's heartbeat but when it came time to talk about medical history it became a bit awkward.

"I...Well, I'm not with the father so I can't really get his family's medical history."

The doctor looked at Yunho, clearly having thought it was him but he held his hands up and explained, "Aah, it's not me - I'm just a friend here for support."

The doctor nodded in understanding but asked gently, "If you can access it at all, it would be very helpful."

"I'll try." You sighed. You knew it wouldn’t be easy.

You made your next appointments which were the anomally scan at 21 weeks, followed by another check up with the doctor.

"I know when those appointments are so if you don't invite me, I'll just turn up again." Yunho playfully threatened as you left the clinic.

"Yunho?"

"Hmm?"

"How difficult do you think it would be to find out Mingi's family history?"

Yunho stopped and looked at you with furrowed brows. "It's not the kind of thing that comes up in normal conversation. If I start asking him whether his family ever had any birth defects or genetic illnesses, he's going to wonder what the Hell is going on."

"Ok." you sighed, defeated, "Don't worry, I'm sure it'll be fine. I was with him for 5 years and he never mentioned anything like that."

You moved closer to Yunho's side and held on to his arm, "Thank you, though...for being with me again. It felt a lot less lonely with you there."

"My pleasure. Do you want to grab something to eat? It's almost dinner time."

"I am hungry. My appetite has come back since the morning sickness went away."

"Great," he looked at you with that bright, beautiful smile that always made you smile back, "what do you wanna get?"

As the weeks went on you began to spend more and more time with Yunho. He gave you a lot of his time when he wasn't working; you guessed he was free because the other guys' jobs were more 9-5 than his more flexible one. Most of the time he came over to your apartment and you watched a movie or show on Netflix with a bowl of popcorn. You'd become much closer with Yunho, so much so that it was him you always thought of first when you needed someone to talk or just to have fun with. You still saw Suzy often but she was with Lucas so much you ended up feeling like a third wheel and seeing them so happy tended to remind you that you were alone.  

Although you tried not to ask about Mingi, Yunho occasionally said things that made you think that he didn't spend a lot of time with his best friend these days. They still lived together but it seemed Mingi was still shutting himself away a lot of the time and drinking a lot. It hurt you to think of him suffering alone and, as much as you tried to stop, you still thought about him a lot. You still cried often, mostly at night when you laid in bed alone and wishing with all your heart that things had turned out differently and he could be here with you, holding you in his strong arms. The aching in your chest that had been with you since you left Mingi still refused to go away, becoming more painful on those night you laid in bed thinking about him.

At least when Yunho was with you it was better, you felt calmer and happier. He had become so important in your life now - your best friend, really - and you didn't know what you'd do without him. Sometimes you'd look up at him as you cuddled against his side on your couch and think that he would make the perfect boyfriend and an amazing father. He was funny, always making you laugh and cheering you up when you were down, and so caring. In fact, it was because he was so caring and loved skinship that it felt comfortable for you guys to cuddle while watching TV and he often grabbed your hand or slung his arm around your shoulders while you were walking together. To top it all off he was amazingly good-looking, especially with those big, warm eyes and the bright smile he always seemed to have but, even when you thought this way, something stopped you from feeling anything more than friendship. As hard as you tried, you didn't seem to be getting over Mingi, at all.

                                                     ********

You were at 22 weeks now and visibly pregnant with your bump obvious for everyone to see. You'd had your anomally scan and doctor's appointment a week ago and, to your relief, everything looked absolutely fine - you'd even got more detailed scan photos of your growing baby now it was bigger. You were offered the chance to find out the sex of the baby but you'd decided to keep it as a surprise so, as you shopped for baby clothes, you were picking out neutral colours.

You'd only really bought maternity items and a few baby basics until now but as you were over half way you decided it was really time to start picking out more important items. You had spent Saturday with Yunho looking at the big things like prams and cribs but hadn't made any firm choices yet, however, you did have lots of bags full of baby clothes, soft toys, bathing accessories and all the things you were going to need ready for when your 'Little Bun' came. You had asked Yunho along for the company and a second opinion but he was also a really good bag-carrier and absolutely refused to let you carry any bag he deemed too heavy.

It was when you were walking through the park on your way home that you felt a movement. You had felt a kind of fluttering before but not been sure if it was your baby moving or not but this was a very definite kick. You stopped and gasped, your hands on your bump so at first Yunho thought something was wrong and started to worry.

"It's ok, Yunho..." you laughed, "I just felt the baby kick for the first time."

"It's kicking?" He replied, amazed.

"Do you want to feel?"

"Of course I do!" Yunho playfully looked at you like you were an idiot to think otherwise.

"Wow, you're growing so strong, Little Bun." Your now-best friend exclaimed as he felt the tiny kicks.

Yunho looked just as excited as you were, it was a common mistake for anyone seeing you to think that he was the father because, true to his word, he had been with you every step of the way making sure you never felt alone in this. You both knew you were just friends and he'd told you on one of the many deep conversations you had late at night that he wasn't trying to take Mingi's place, he just wanted to be there for you.

However, the way you both stood there as Yunho held his large hand on your growing bump with a look of awe on his face at feeling your baby kicking would make anyone think that you were a young couple about to become parents - and that's exactly how you knew it looked when you turned to see Mingi standing a few feet away from you.

You'd never really considered the possibility of running into Mingi because Yunho had told you how he'd shut himself away in the apartment when not at work but now you saw him standing in the park watching you and Yunho looking for all the world like a couple in love. He was with Hongjoong, Jongho and Yeosang and they all stood there slightly behind him with equally shocked expressions. The look on Mingi's face, however, caused your heart to clench painfully. He stood there, his eyes moving from you, to Yunho, and then to Yunho's hand on your obviously pregnant tummy, with a look of utter betrayal and heartbreak.

"Mingi...." Your voice was small, you didn't know what to say, you couldn't seem to get any other words out.

Mingi looked away from you, like he couldn't bear to look at you, and over to his best friend.

"Mingi...it's not what it looks like." Yunho quickly said, trying to fix the misunderstanding as he could see exactly what Mingi was thinking.

"Oh, really? Because it looks like my best friend has got my ex-girlfriend pregnant." He was angry,  Yunho tried to calm the situation, worried Mingi’s temper would get the better of him again.

"It really isn't like that, Mingi." Yunho almost pleaded with him.

Mingi scoffed, not believing a word of it. "You must've swooped right there in after we broke up - or did you even wait that long? Was this all going on before?" Suddenly he turned to look down at you with accusation in his dark eyes, " Is that why you left me?"

"Mingi...no." You wanted to explain but Mingi wasn't hearing it. He gave you both one last pained look and strode right past you.

As the others followed your ex-boyfriend, you felt helpless; Hongjoong gave you both a look of pure disappointment, shaking his head as he went with Jongho looking much the same but adding, "Wouldn't have expected this of you, bro." aimed directly at Yunho. Yeosang passed by last and placing a hand on Yunho's shoulder briefly, he simply said, "You must have some big fucking balls to pull this kind of shit."

You stood there frozen for some minutes, tears just streaming down your face as Yunho hugged you, doing his best to console you.

"It'll be okay, Y/N. I'll talk to him...make him understand."

You hadn't wanted Mingi to know but now he had found out in, perhaps, the most hurtful way he possibly could have. You felt horrible. You were an awful, awful person.

"You're not an awful person, Y/N." Yunho tried to reassure you but the guilt was already making a home inside you. "Let's just get you home and then I can find Mingi and explain all this."

                                                     ********

Mingi POV

Mingi sat on the couch in the apartment he shared with Hongjoong and Yunho, drink in hand, glaring at the door. He was waiting for his supposed best friend - he knew he'd come home soon and attempt to explain away his betrayal - but Mingi was so angry. As if it wasn't bad enough that he saw you had moved on and were pregnant with someone else's child, it was his own fucking best friend who had got you pregnant!

He didn't even look at Hongjoong, Jongho and Yeosang as they hovered around the apartment; most likely waiting for the inevitable fight Mingi would start. He knew they'd all been worried about his behaviour for some time now but he didn't care, he was in too much pain himself to care about how anyone else felt.

Mingi was pulled from those thoughts as he heard Yunho's key in the door, signalling his arrival and as he walked through the door, it was all Mingi could do to not leap up and punch him in the face.

"Mingi, please listen, it's not -" Yunho started but was quickly cut off.

"I can't believe you could do this to me!" Mingi shouted, "You more than anyone else. We've known each other since we were five and you do this to me?" Mingi stood and took a few steps towards Yunho who was holding his hands up and looking somewhat nervous. They had the same height and build but Mingi had a temper and Yunho didn't want to fight him.

"I didn't do -"

"Stop lying to me!" Mingi shouted and Jongho subtly moved closer ready to hold Mingi back if he made a move towards his best friend.

"You know better than anyone how much it killed me when Y/N left me....how hard it is for me to get over this." Tears were starting to fall from Mingi's eyes as he was trying to let out all the hurt and frustration he had felt since you left him, "Did you think what it would do to me to see you with her - and to see her carrying your fucking baby, as well?!"

"It's your baby, Mingi!"

Yunho had to shout to stop the angry tirade and it worked, silence filled the room as Mingi just stared at Yunho and the other three men stared between the two of them.

"It's mine?" Mingi asked in a small, uncertain voice.

"Yes. It's yours. Do you not remember the night after graduation? You took her home and fucked her without using protection."

"Jesus Christ, you fucking idiot, Mingi." Hongjoong sighed out loud.

Completely stunned, Mingi sat down on the couch again; he remembered it but it had never occured to him that this would happen.

"Why didn't she tell me?" Mingi asked, "And why didn't you?" He threw at Yunho accusingly.

"She didn't want you involved and it wasn't my place to tell you. She begged me not to."

Yunho came closer to his best friend now he was calmer and handed him a small envelope, "Y/N asked me to give you this."

Mingi opened the envelope and took out the photo from your last scan, he stared at the image of the baby, touching the paper where he could see its tiny hand.  

"This is my baby?" He asked again, trying to process this sudden shift in his life.

"Yes. It's your baby, you idiot." Yunho rolled his eyes, happy that the tension in the room was easing.

Mingi picked up his drink and took a swig, suddenly remembering something.

"Is this what you've been doing during all that time you spend out of the apartment. Seeing Y/N? Are you together? It might be my baby but that doesn't mean you haven't still stolen my girlfriend."

"For fuck's sake, Mingi!" Yunho shouted, exasperated. "No...you know what, I do like her. She is amazing. While you've been here drinking and shutting yourself away from everyone, she's been trying to do all this alone with no family and hardly any friends here with her. Do you even know how strong she is? Or how hard this whole situation is on her? Of course not because all you think about is yourself! I have just been being a friend to her; trying to support her through this so she's not alone. And I would have made a move except for one problem.... she's still in love with you. So stop fucking drinking and get your shit together because in 3 months you're going to be a father and right now you're nowhere near good enough for Y/N or your baby!"

Shock crossed Mingi's face as Yunho slapped the drink out of his hand. He couldn't take all this in. You still loved him? He had thought he had seen it in your eyes that last night you slept together but in the morning you told him to go so he had assumed you'd only been with him that night because you'd felt vulnerable and needed someone.

Yunho knew he'd been harsh but he needed to be. Mingi needed to grow up if he was going to be there for you and the baby. "Look, I know quite a lot about this pregnancy stuff now and I know what Y/N needs from you. If you want, I’ll help you get back on track. I want her to be happy and I don't think she ever will be without you. And even though you've been a complete dick, I want you to be happy, as well."

"Thank you." Mingi quietly said, feeling he didn't deserve a friend like Yunho. He'd been so awful to everyone over these last months and they'd only been trying to help him. And if he was ever going to deserve you again, he knew he'd have to get his act together quickly.

                                                     ********

Can we meet? Please.

You'd been staring at the text message from Mingi for about an hour now. You hadn't heard anything from him for about a week after he saw you and Yunho on the street and you could imagine the hurt that must've caused him but Yunho said he'd explained everything and he'd calmed down. He was still a mess but to just give him a little time to get his head around it. It was fair enough, after all, you'd had months already to process the fact that you were going to be a mother three months from now but Mingi had only just found out he was about to become a father. As you thought about it, you felt guilt spreading through you. Was it the right thing to have kept it from him just because he hurt you? He was always bound to find out one day but how much of his child's life would he have already missed by that point.

Meet me at the coffee shop we used to go to. 2pm

You replied, feeling anxious; now he knew there was no point trying to keep him away but you'd have to deal with seeing him on a regular basis whilst knowing you still weren't over him.

At 2pm you sat in the coffee shop; you and Mingi used to come here all the time back in college, when you were still together. You'd been waiting nervously, playing with your fingers and looking up every time the little bell signalled the door had opened.

Mingi walked in and scanned the room for you then made his way to your table. You looked at each other for a moment before either of you spoke.

"Would you like anything?" He asked a little awkwardly.

"Just an orange juice, please. I can't have too much caffeine."

"Oh, yeah...I guess not." At your reply he looked down at what he could see of your bump behind the table and away again quickly. He went up to the counter to order the drinks, returning shortly after with your orange juice and an iced Americano for himself.

You looked at each other for a minute or so, without saying anything. Last time you'd seen him he looked a mess - thin with dark circles under his eyes and longish, messy hair where he'd not bothered to cut it. Generally like he wasn't looking after himself. Now he looked almost well; still tired and somewhat thin but much better than before.

"You look better than when I saw you." You ventured carefully, not wanting to remind him of that day too much.

"Yunho's been helping me get myself together." His deep voice was quieter than usual as he ran his hand through his freshly cut black hair.

You were both feeling awkward seeing each other after the last time but one of you was going to have to acknowledge the elephant in the room.

"I'm sorry I kept this from you. I was so hurt that I didn't want you involved so I wouldn't have to see you but it was selfish of me. I should have told you."

Mingi looked at you, surprise on his face, as if he hadn't expected you to say this. Maybe he thought you'd still be too angry at him, after all, he'd been surprised you agreed to meet so quickly.

"I understand why you didn't. I realise now that you leaving me was my own fault. I neglected you when we were together and put myself and my friends first. I know I let you down and hurt you a lot." Mingi didn't look directly into your eyes as he said this, feelings of guilt present within him. You sat and listened quietly as he continued on. You were surprised at seeing a level of maturity he'd never shown before.

"I'm not going to ask you to come back to me - I know I don't deserve that - but please...let me be a part of our baby's life. I want to show you I can be there for you both, for whatever you need."

"Mingi, I'm not going to keep you out of our baby's life. I realised by not telling you it wouldn't only be you missing out; I'd be robbing the baby of knowing it's father...and it's grandparents, too."

Mingi's eyes widened like he'd suddenly thought of something bad. "What's wrong?" You asked a little worried.

"I hadn't even thought about that." He said groaning.

"What?"

"How the fuck am I going to tell my parents that I'm going to be a father in three months? They're gonna kill me for being so stupid and not using a condom."

You giggled quietly at this man who was about to become a father but was still worried about his parents scolding him.

He looked at you apologetically, "I'm sorry about that, by the way. I should've been more careful but I missed you so much - I wanted you so badly, I didn't think about what could happen."

"Hey," You replied gently, "It was both our faults. We were both stupid and I seem to remember me being the one begging you to do it."

"How did your parents take it?"

"They're supporting me but, of course, I got the lecture about how stupid I was to not use contraception." You admitted laughing.

"I'm glad they're ok with it. Let's just hope my parents are ok, too." He still looked worried but a little more relaxed now.

"Mingi," you started, turning more serious, "As I said, I won't keep you out of your baby's life but if you let Little Bun down like you did to me, there won't be any more chances after that."

Mingi looked at you earnestly as he replied, "I won't be letting either of you down. I promise you."

"Little Bun?" He enquired, cocking his head to the side.

"Oh...yeah, I decided not to find out the sex of the baby so he or she is 'Little Bun' for now."

Mingi smiled finally - you'd missed his smile so much but it still hurt to see him so for now you decided to cut short your meeting.

"Do you want me to walk you home?" Mingi asked, still polite and a little awkward.

"I'll be fine but thank you."

You walked home feeling a little lighter now that you weren't keeping it a secret anymore but still apprehensive as to how you were going to manage to see Mingi so much. You realised upon seeing him that you were no longer angry at him for how he treated you but still you couldn't trust him enough to take him back. You knew you still loved him and it was going to be hard to see him so often and not be able to be with him.

                                                      ********

You were sitting with Yunho on your couch in your apartment, watching Netflix, as usual, and talking about things in general so it was inevitable that Mingi was going to be mentioned sooner or later.

"How is everything going?" Yunho asked carefully, knowing it was still a delicate subject.

You sighed, looking down at your hands - a habit you had when talking about or doing something uncomfortable. "I guess it's ok. It's still difficult seeing him but he seems like a different person somehow."

"How so?"

"Well...he seems a little more mature, I suppose."

"Probably the consequence of finding out he's going to be a father in a few months." Yunho snorted.

"It's more than that, though." You paused, thinking; you weren't quite sure how to convey it in words. "I can see he's still hurting and that he's still a bit of a mess inside but it's...it's like there's something missing from him."

"There is." Yunho replied, seriously now, "You're missing."

You cocked your head, looking at your best friend questioningly.

"Mingi isn't Mingi without you. He took it for granted that you'd always be there and so he didn't treat you right but when you left him, it was like a part of him left, as well. I've been friends with him since we were five years old and I've seen him go through some hard times but I've never seen him like this. Being without you broke him."

A stray tear rolled down your cheek as you listened; you'd thought from how Mingi had treated you that he didn't love you anymore.

"If only he'd shown me that he still cared when we were together, it wouldn't have had to end with us both getting hurt."

Yunho hummed in agreement as he wrapped his strong arms around you for comfort, "Believe me, I don't think he'd make that mistake again."

"I just don't know whether to trust him, Yunho."

"He's trying really hard, Y/N. He's quit drinking, he's looking after himself better and not shutting himself away." Suddenly Yunho laughed, remembering something, "I probably shouldn't laugh at this because he really is trying so hard...but the other day I walked past his room and saw him trying to put a nappy on the teddy bear he's had since he was a baby."

Your eyes widened in astonishment, "On Ted?" You remembered the slightly tatty old teddy Mingi always kept on his shelf in his room but couldn't imagine the picture Yunho was painting.

"Yeah..." the tall blonde continued laughing, "...looked like he was trying to follow a YouTube video on baby care."

"Wow. I can't believe he's really taking this seriously." You thought for a few moments before continuing, "Yunho, I think I should start taking Mingi to my appointments now." You watched carefully for signs Yunho might be hurt by this. He had been such a huge support to you, you were worried he might feel like you were casting him aside.

"You don't know how much you mean to me, Yunho, you've been such a huge support to me and I can't tell you how much I appreciate it but if Mingi is going to be in Little Bun's life, I need to make him feel a part of it already. Also," you continued smiling, "it's probably best if I take him to my ante-natal classes where he can learn about baby care without trying to do it in secret."

Yunho looked at you, smiling back, "It's the way it should be," he shrugged, "I was just filling in for him but he should be the one taking care of you and Bun."

"Thank you." You whispered, cuddling into your best friend's side as he gently kissed the top of your head before hugging you closer to him.

                                                     ********

Over the following weeks you thought about Mingi a lot - it wasn't hard to do because he'd been texting you everyday to see how you and the baby were doing. You were thankful it was mostly texting because it gave you time to get used to having him back in your life without seeing him too much yet. Maybe he knew you needed time and that's why he didn't ask to see you too much. You'd only seen him once or twice for ante-natal appointments; the first was just a standard check up with the midwife but you asked Mingi along to make him feel more involved. You were glad you did when the midwife used her portable monitor to check the baby's heartbeat because the look on Mingi's face was one you think you'll never forget. As the whooshing sound of the tiny heartbeats came out from the monitor's speaker, a look of pure wonder came over Mingi,

"That's our baby's heartbeat?"

He looked at you wide-eyed and you nodded, smiling, not able to help the warmth that spread through you as he then looked down at your bump in awe. It was quickly replaced by guilt, though; Mingi looked so happy that you felt awful for having kept this from him and not letting him share in it with you. In reality you knew you wouldn't have been strong enough back then to see him but, still, you felt guilty.

The second appointment was for a growth scan; the midwife had been a tiny bit worried about the baby's rate of growth so she sent you for another scan. Luckily, nothing was wrong and it was nice that Mingi was able to see the baby on the screen as he hadn't been there for the other two. When the sonographer pointed out all the features to Mingi he looked absolutely enthralled; you knew this because, as well as looking at your baby on the screen, you had been watching Mingi closely. In your uncertainty about whether you could really trust Mingi to be there for you wanted to see his reactions and, although you weren't convinced yet, you were happy that he seemed to be taking this seriously. To be honest, you think that was the moment it really hit him that he was going to be a father and you understood completely as it was at your first scan that it all became more real for you.

"So...I told my parents about Little Bun." Mingi said as he walked you home after the scan.

"Really? How did they take it?" Mingi's parents were a little more strict than yours so you didn't imagine it went down too well.

"About as well as you think they would." He said grimacing at the memory.

"Was it really bad?"

"I got a very long talking to about how stupid I was and how could I have been so reckless? At least by the end of the call they had calmed down enough to ask if the baby is healthy and if you're doing well so I think they'll be ok. They were just shocked, I guess."

It was only a few days after the scan that you were spending a relaxing Saturday at home alone when you heard a knock at your door and, upon opening it, found Mingi on the other side. He looked a little awkward as he apologised for showing up unannounced but that he had some things for you. Curious, you stepped aside so he could come in but he stepped out of your view and appeared again wheeling a pram into your apartment. You hadn't actually asked him for anything so it came as a real surprise - especially as it was the exact pram you had been admiring when you had gone baby shopping with Yunho. Yunho did say he'd been helping Mingi get himself together so you suspected he'd been giving him advice on what to buy as well as supporting him to get better. Your suspicions only grew as Mingi then went back out into the hallway to retrieve a big box containing the crib that had been your favourite that day, as well.

As you stood there looking a bit stunned, Mingi stood looking a bit sheepish.

"I hope I got the right ones. I wanted to buy you some things but I had no idea what you had already or what style you wanted...so I asked Yunho. He told me which ones you seemed to like the most."

"I love them...thank you."

"Oh!" Mingi suddenly remembered something and pulled a bag from inside the pram, "I got this for Little Bun, as well."

You opened the bag and took out a stuffed toy giraffe. You laughed as you remembered they had always been his favourite animal when you visited the zoo.  

"It's perfect."

It got a little awkward then so you offered Mingi a drink and you sat talking about jobs and friends. Mingi caught you up with as much as he knew about his group of friends but he looked a little sad while talking about it.

"To be honest, Y/N, I've been a terrible friend to them. I know Yunho must've told you what a mess I've been... I shut myself away and barely spoke to any of them. I don't really know much about how they've been doing since you last saw them. I was too wrapped up in myself."

"I'm sure they understand." You said quietly.

"I want you to know how much better I am now, though. I've stopped drinking entirely and I feel like Little Bun has given me something to look forward to...to make my life worthwhile."

"Mingi," you replied, trying to make him feel better, "...your life is already worthwhile."

"Not without you." He said, looking down. "When you left me I felt like everything was over. I had never really realised just how much I loved you and how important you were to me. Without you everything else seemed so pointless and miserable. It was like all the colour had been drained from the world."

You could feel tears welling in your eyes, Mingi had told you he loved you when you were together, of course, but towards the end of your relationship it always felt like he was saying it out of habit more than really meaning it. He'd never sounded so sincere as he did now.

"I'm sorry," he apologised quietly, "I'm not trying to make you feel bad; I just wanted you to know how I feel."

You couldn't help it then; you found your hand moving towards Mingi's and resting upon his. You looked up at him, into his beautiful, dark eyes that you had always loved most about him, and they were looking back into yours with such an intensity that you found yourself moving closer. You weren't sure if this was a good idea or if you were setting yourself up to be hurt again but what you did know was that everything Mingi had said he felt without you - the world devoid of colour and joy, and life seeming so pointless - was exactly how you had felt without him.

As you moved closer, Mingi's hand moved up to rest against the side of your neck while his thumb gently stroked your cheek. You closed the distance and felt his soft, plump lips against yours and, despite your worries about him, everything felt so right again.

Pulling away, you looked down and Mingi closed him arms around you, kissing the top of your head lovingly.

"I love you, Y/N. I'm so sorry I never showed you how much. I promise if you give me another chance, I'll never let you forget it. I'll never let you down again."

You took a deep breath, looking up at him you knew you had never stopped loving him, even though you'd tried to move on.

"We can try." You told him. "Let's see where this goes."

Mingi took your face in his hands and kissed you more passionately now; you could feel the joy radiating off him as his lips moved against yours, asking for entry as he gently swiped his tongue across your bottom lip. You stayed this way for a while, kissing and enjoying being able to hold each other once again until a tiny movement made you stop and laugh.

"What?" Mingi asked, wondering if he'd done something weird.

"Nothing," you smiled, "it's just the baby kicking."

Mingi looked at your bump with wonder in his brown eyes, "Can I feel?"

You realised at that moment that up until then Mingi hadn't touched your bump, at all. In fact he hadn't even tried and you wondered if he'd been trying to be considerate of you, not wanting to make you uncomfortable with that level of closeness given that he was your ex. It didn't matter now, though, you wanted him there with you.

"Here...give me your hand." You reached for Mingi's hand and placed it on your bump where Little Bun had been kicking. After a second there were a few more kicks and you couldn't believe the way Mingi's face lit up like he'd just felt the best thing in the whole world.

"My baby." He whispered and you could've sworn his eyes looked a little wetter than usual, "I promise I'll never let you down, Little One."

It was as if he'd suddenly felt a real connection with the life he'd helped create; he spent most of the evening laying with his head on your lap talking to your bump. You felt a happiness you hadn't felt for so long just sitting and listening to Mingi talk to your baby while his large hands caressed your bump.

After some time you felt Mingi pick you up off the couch and carry you into your bedroom; in your sleepy haze you vaguely thought about how strong he was as you were definitely heavier than you used to be now you were more than seven months pregnant. He laid you on your bed and left a gentle kiss on your forehead. As he went to go, you reached out to him,

"Don't go. I don't want to be alone anymore."

Mingi paused, not expecting such a request, "Ok, Baby...let me just lock up and turn the lights off."

After a minute or so Mingi joined you back on the bed, covering the both of you up and holding his arm out for you to cuddle into his side. You went to sleep feeling complete again, the dull ache you could never get rid of, finally gone.

In the morning you woke on your side with Mingi's arm over you and his hand lightly stroking your bump as every now and then you felt a little kick.

You rolled over to face him, closing the distance between you to kiss his lips. Mingi smiled at you when you pulled back,

"Good morning, Baby."

"Hi" You said feeling slightly shy, not used to this yet.

You laid together just looking into each other's eyes until Mingi inevitably broke the romantic atmosphere - like he always used to,

"Is it weird that it kinda turns me on that I got you pregnant?"

You sighed heavily. Who'd have known your boyfriend had a breeding kink?

"Yes. It is." You replied, laughing. Then added, "And inappropriate given that that baby is kicking right now."

You moved his hand from your behind, where it had somehow snuck around to, back to your bump to distract him from such things. You still found him hot as fuck but in your heavily pregnant state, feeling a bit like a beached whale, you did not even want to contemplate anything like that.

It worked because he soon turned more serious again.

"I really thought I'd lost you. I'd always held on to a tiny shred of hope but when I saw you with Yunho, pregnant and looking so happy...I thought you were with him...that I'd lost you forever."

"You never lost me completely." You said, cupping his face with your hand and running your thumb over his soft skin. "And if you can't even lose me to Yunho who is, basically, the perfect man...then you never will."

You laughed as Mingi suddenly let go of you, a huge put on his face at your assessment of his best friend being perfect.

"I love you, you idiot." You said pulling him back to you.

"I love you so much, too. I meant it when I said I'd never let you down again. Either of you."

                                                      ********

Epilogue

Over the last couple of months of pregnancy you and Mingi got closer than you ever had been before and decided to move in together as neither of you wanted to be without the other. You sold your apartment and bought a bigger one together with Mingi who, despite having been such a mess, actually had a really well paid job.

As your due date approached he barely left your side and when you woke up to feel your waters breaking, he took you to the hospital, despite the look of complete horror that never left his face the whole way there. Once you were at the hospital with trained medical staff he visibly relaxed and helped you all the way through the labour, holding your hand and telling you how well you were doing and how much he loved you. When your daughter was born the look on his face was ecstatic and, as much as he tried to hide it, you know you saw some tears.

Mingi was so excited, calling both sets of grandparents, followed by all his friends to tell them the news. The grandparents came down while you were still in the hospital - and fell in love with her immediately, of course, despite their previous concerns about the situation.

Mingi's friends came round to meet your daughter once you'd got settled back at home and he was so proud to show her off.

"Guys, this is Soo Min" he said beaming,

Of course Yunho rushed in for the first hug.

"Hey, Little Bun...do you remember my voice? I looked after you and Mummy for a bit so I'd better be your favourite uncle as you grow up."

"Hey!" The other guys all chorused.

Everyone wanted to take their turn holding her but she was a bit fussy from being passed around. In fact, out of all Mingi's friends, the one she was obviously most comfortable with was Yunho - now a best friend to both of you. As Soo Min settled down and fell asleep in Yunho's arms you couldn't help teasing Mingi by whispering,

"See? I told you he's the perfect man."

Mingi looked affronted and smacked your behind, whispering back,

"Do I still have competition? Once you're feeling better I'm gonna remind you who you belong to." winking cheekily after the last statement. At any other time that would’ve send a thrill straight to your core but you were still really sore down there.

As time passed your favourite sight to see was your daughter sleeping on Mingi's chest. You'd feed her and then pass her to Mingi to be burped and she'd always fall asleep on his broad chest, looking so tiny laying on him.

He was keeping to his promise of never letting you down so well that after a few months you had to force him out with his friends for an evening because they kept asking him out as one of their birthdays approached.

"Mingi," you said, worried he was telling them 'no' because of you, "I'm not going to think you're neglecting me if you go out for one evening. Just go and have fun."

"But I don't want to leave my precious girls." He said whining.

You leaned up to cup his face in your hands and kiss him softly on the lips,

"I love you and I know how much you love me and Soo Min but, really, go and have fun - the guys will be sad otherwise."

"Ok," he pouted, "...but just a few hours. I don't think I can be away from you two for much longer."

"Jeez, Mingi...you spend longer than that away from us when you're at work!"

"And it's Hell for me." He whined over dramatically while you could only laugh.

At least you never had to question if he loved you anymore.

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