#so it’s not her fault she just doesn’t realize he has different needs than her

[literaila]

it's not my fault

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: tsumiki and megumi get into an argument

warnings: sibling stuff, fluff, two oblivious (stupid) parents

last part | next part

*

year five.

“couldn’t you say something nice?” tsumiki is asking megumi when you walk in. “she just wanted to—“ 

you set your bag on the table, just barely able to make out their words. 

they were... quiet in the car, you realize suddenly. but you hadn't thought that anything was wrong. megumi's typically burnt out after school, and tsumiki waits until you all get home to start telling you about her day. 

but it only took a minute of you running back out to the car to grab something for it all to fall apart. 

megumi groans. “i don’t even know her.” 

you round the corner, just stopping there so you can observe. neither of them seem to notice you, or your wide eyes at both of their stances. the matching scowls on their faces. 

they look so similar that it shocks you just briefly. 

tsumiki has her arms crossed, shaking her head. “you still don’t need to be mean about it.” 

“i wasn’t mean.” 

“yes, you were. you told her to leave you alone.” 

“that seems like a pretty straightforward request.” 

“everyone at school thinks you’re mean,” tsumiki is pouting, looking dishearted at his reaction. typically, megumi will agree with her just for the sake of it. “and i always have to defend you, even if it’s true.” 

megumi sighs, shrugging. he's got his satoru-type scowl on, and even though he looks disinterested--as usual--you can see it when his frown deepens, and he shifts away from tsumiki. “well, stop then. i don’t need you to come to my rescue. i don’t care what people say.” 

“well, i do! you’re my brother.” 

“that doesn’t mean you have to treat me like your responsibility. i can handle myself.” 

“you’re always alone at school,” tsumiki disputes, almost whining at him. “if you were nicer—“ 

“i’ve never complained—“ 

“okay,” you turn the corner, brows already raised. “there’s a lot of raised voices going on. you two are going to wake up the neighbor's cat.” 

tsumiki is pouting at megumi and he just rolls his eyes. both children stand facing each other, standoffish in the living room, arms crossed. 

usually, they fight about what movie to watch, or who got to sit in the front seat last. 

but those fights don’t typically involve yelling. 

sure, they’re both sensitive about their childhood. about living here and being with you and satoru. they'll bicker about being little, megumi hating it when tsumiki mentions either of their biological parents, and tsumiki hating it when he refuses to listen.

but even then, tsumiki goes to hide, and megumi just shuts down. 

this seems… different. 

a part of you rationalizes that they're both exhausted from school and getting to that age where their priorities differ. 

you don't have any siblings, but you quarreled enough with nanami and haibara back at school to know how these types of arguments work. 

and unless one of them admits that they're wrong, it's never going to end. 

with that thought in mind, you put on a learned smile, standing between the two of them so you can look back and forth between the two children, observing both of their very closed-off body language. 

it's a little cute, honestly. they both look very different, but their matching stances and glares are worth much more than biology. you almost want to stop them to take a picture. 

satoru would do it if he was here. 

“tough crowd,” you say, feeling the tension between the two. “what’s going on?” 

“nothing,” they both say, at the same time, but megumi with an attitude and tsumiki with a sniffle. 

really, you should find a book about expressing emotions. you and satoru are teaching them far too much about denial and avoidance. 

you make a mental note to look it up later. 

you blow out a breath. “yeah, well, i heard the yelling, but i’m missing some context."

you look between the two of them, but they’re not looking back. both sets of eyes are focused on each other, identical glares bouncing off of each other. they could be communicating in some secret language and you would have no idea. 

in fact, you can basically see the thoughts they're forcing towards each other on their faces. 

“hey,” you poke them both on the forehead at the same time, trying to get their attention on you. “talk to me. what happened?” 

they both remain still as statues for a moment, not bothering to consider the question. 

but after a moment, tsumiki blinks, and her frown increases, which makes megumi roll his eyes--like he already knows what she's going to say, and doesn't care. 

“megumi was mean to a girl at school,” tsumiki says, finally looking at you with big doe eyes. her face is pained, confused, and worried. 

and honestly, she could ask you for anything with that look and you'd give it to her. 

but megumi sighs. “i wasn’t mean.” 

“you told her not to talk to you!” 

he looks to you, less pleading but confident. “if i want space, shouldn’t i tell someone that? isn't that what you say?” 

you open your mouth. “well, it depends, megs, you can’t—“ 

“you’re always mean,” tsumiki’s eyes are filling with tears. she looks at you too. and usually, she would apologize for interrupting, but not right now. “nobody at school wants to be around him. he scares everyone, and they don’t believe me when i say that he’s nice.” 

“tsumiki," you begin, face softening, "you shouldn’t—“ 

“that doesn’t make me mean. why would i want to hang out with people who don’t like me?” 

you turn, “megumi—“ 

“they would like you if you weren’t always saying mean things!” tsumiki tells him, her sweet voice rough with frustration. the tears begin to slip from her eyes. 

and you can feel it when megumi moves another inch away, wanting to flinch back from her sadness the same way you do. 

“i don’t want them to like me,” megumi corrects, shaking it off. “i don’t care what they think.” 

tsumiki frowns even deeper, eyes growing wide. “what about what i think?” she asks him.

“are you going to stop hanging out with me?” 

“maybe.” 

“how? we literally live in the same house. your room is down the hall from mine.”

“guys—“ 

“i’ll ask dad to move rooms. he won’t mind.” 

“oh, sure. because you’ll be able to avoid me at the dinner table—“ 

“why are you always—“ 

“guys.” 

they both look to you, glares immensely misplaced. their mouths are still open, ready to interrupt each other at a moment's notice. 

you look between them, finding matching pictures on either side. clearly, they're both upset about something different. and still, you don't really understand, but it doesn't seem like they're going to explain anything further. 

why would they when they can just keep arguing?

you purse your lips, closing your eyes for a moment, trying not to laugh. 

really, if they wanted you to take them seriously they shouldn’t have grown up to be so cute. they shouldn't look like that. 

harsh, angry breaths fill the room as the two of them wait for your instruction. you should probably be able to fix this problem immediately--you could by sending them both to their rooms and forcing them apart--but you'd rather talk this through. 

plus you don't want either of them to think too hard about any of it. you hate it when you fight with satoru and take a break, just to linger in that anger like a quicksand you can’t pull out of. 

“okay,” you say, once there’s a moment of silence. “i know you’re both upset.” 

“i’m not—“ you look at megumi and he stops, little frown on his little face. his cheeks are red in indignation, and he's got clenched fists. you can tell that he wants to say something, maybe to you, maybe to tsumiki, but he won't.

you ruffle his hair. “it’s fine to be upset with each other,” you tell him, looking to tsumiki, her face entirely sad. “but going back and forth isn’t going to solve the problem, okay? and neither is saying anything just to hurt each other's feelings.” 

“but he just—“ you shake your head, wishing with everything in you that you could go get one of satoru’s blindfolds right now. 

it physically hurts to look at them, they're so precious. 

you are a terrible mother for finding this moment slightly amusing. to be fair, you spend far too much time with satoru, and deflection is a family trait. 

you finger tsumiki’s hair, pushing it from her eyes. “should we take a break?” you ask them both. “or do you want to talk about it now?”

“break,” megumi says, immediately.

“talk about it now,” tsumiki answers, at the same time. 

for two people who are so alike, they sure think differently. you want to smile at the very predictable answers but refrain.

“okay…” you pause, thinking. “tsumiki, why don’t you tell us why you’re upset? megumi will do the same, and then we can take a break, or keep going.” 

they both glare at each other. 

“and nothing mean," you add because it feels necessary. 

tsumiki sniffs. “everyone at school says that you’re cruel,” she tells him, a devastating pout on her face. “and i don’t like that. you’re my brother, and i want people to like you like i do.” 

you both look at megumi, waiting. 

he's silent for a moment, processing his sister's words, but then he’s got a scowl on his face. “i don’t care what they think, they’re all stupid anyway—“ 

“megumi.” 

he looks at you, pleading blue eyes. you can see that tsumiki got under his skin, but you shake your head. 

“see?” tsumiki complains, voice high-pitched. “he’s always—“ 

you wipe away a tear, nodding. “i know, sweetie, but it’s his turn. you can go next.”

you turn to megumi, wanting to laugh at his annoyed face. “don’t call your classmates names," you say, giving him a look. "it's your turn. tell tsumiki why you’re upset, megumi.” 

he sighs again, looking towards the floor. he kicks at the hardwood, shaking his head. “i don’t like it when you baby me. i don’t need you to defend me, or try and take care of me at school. i’m fine.” 

tsumiki swallows, not saying anything. 

you look between the two of them, trying to read the complex emotions of your almost-teenagers. unfortunately, they're closed off from you, and you can only guess. 

both of your hands rest on one of their shoulders, squeezing. “do you both want to answer? or should we sit down for a bit? i can make a snack or something. it might be good to cool off." 

you say it mostly for yourself, because, honestly, any second you're going to break. 

the two children look at each other, communicating telepathically, and then they nod.

“you should treat everyone respectfully,” tsumiki says, as an answer. “even if you don’t care what they think, you should still be nice.” 

megumi frowns. “if i don’t want to talk to someone, i shouldn’t have to.” 

“but you just told her to go away. she probably feels bad now, and—“ 

“i don’t even know her," megumi interrupts, brows furrowing. 

okay, so maybe you should've separated them a couple of minutes ago. 

“chiyo's my friend!” 

megumi rolls his eyes. “just because she’s your friend doesn’t mean she has to be mine.” 

“but you were mean.” 

you look between the two of them, megumi annoyed and tsumiki frustrated. 

“okay, kids.” you breathe out, wishing you had a brother to fight with, just so you knew what it felt like. just so you could be a part of this argument. “i know you’re both mad, and you disagree. that’s fine. let’s take some space, breathe, maybe i can—“

“just because you think i was being mean doesn’t mean that i was," megumi blurts out, like he can't hold it in.  

you pause, mouth opening. you're about to say something, but you don't get the chance.

“if everyone doesn’t like you,” tsumiki argues, “then it’s because you’re mean.” 

“maybe they just suck.” 

“they don’t suck. this is—“

and then it all breaks down.

“well well,” satoru peeks his head around the corner, white hair a shock to all three of you. “look who’s falling apart without me.”

you sigh immediately, a hand against your temple. of course he would come in at the worst moment possible. “satoru, please go back out the door. i'm sure you forgot something at the store."

the two kids look at satoru, neither one of them happy to see him. there's a similar fire in their eyes, and you know that if he hadn't shown up they would've continued arguing until you pulled them apart. 

he walks over to you, slinging an arm across your shoulder. his grin is far too self-satisfactory. "what'd you do?" he asks, tapping you. 

"i didn't do anything," you tell him, "leave them alone. they're working it out." 

"by yelling at each other?" 

you push his arm off of you, glaring. "you just walked in at a bad moment--" 

you say something else, telling him to get out again, and satoru laughs back at you, asking if you missed him, and neither of you seems to realize that the two kids are just staring at you.

megumi and tsumiki share a look, like this is a typical occurrence (it is), then shake their heads at the same time, like an echo of each other. 

their faces have cooled, scowls fading as you and satoru bicker. 

tsumiki sighs and megumi scratches the back of his neck, and for a moment, they both avoid each other's eyes. 

but eventually, you and satoru look back at them. 

"i don't want to talk anymore," megumi tells all of you, beginning to walk away. satoru tries to grab the back of his shirt to keep him in place, but megumi just shrugs him off. 

and then he walks down the hallway to his room and closes the door gently, clearly no longer bothered by anything tsumiki said. or maybe too bothered. 

but, you think, at least he didn't slam the door. 

you can recall yourself telling satoru to give him space, to let megumi deal with his emotions as he pleases before you force him back into the spotlight, to apologize or hug tsumiki, or... 

you blink and look back at her. she's still got a small pout on her face, but her eyes have relaxed, as red-rimmed as they are. you know, and tsumiki knows, that she's really just worried about him. trying to protect him in her own, sisterly way. 

and, really, there's not much you can teach her about that. 

so you just smile gently at tsumiki, wiping away some moisture from her face. "just give him a bit, hmm? let him think." 

she sighs but relaxes into your hand for a moment, her shoulders slouching as she gives into defeat. and then tsumiki shrugs at you, agreeing despite herself, and walks over to satoru to give him half of a hug. 

it's not a moment later that she follows megumi and walks down the hall, escaping to her room. you both listen as her door closes.

"wow," satoru whispers, shaking his head. "you did a number on them." 

"they had a fight about school," you say, nudging him. "i had no part in any of it. i just walked in." 

he wraps two arms around the back of your neck, smiling eagerly at you. "so what you're saying is, it isn't your fault?" 

he's mocking himself, and the reoccurring events that happen when you leave him in charge. which you've sworn to never do again, by the way. 

you scoff. "when i get home you've started all the problems," you tell him, shaking your head. "they're fighting because you instigated something." 

"we're communicating." 

"whatever."

satoru quirks a brow at you, eyes just barely visible behind his glasses. "the parenting books aren't doing much for you, are they?" he asks, rhetorically. 

"you realize i caught you with those in your room multiple times right? i know you read them." 

"you'll never prove it," he says, smiling maliciously. 

"and neither will your parenting skills." 

satoru snorts, nudging his nose against yours in an odious way. "clearly, you guys can't last a day without me." 

"it wasn't a day," you argue, shivering at his touch. "more like an hour. you just went to the store..." you pause, tilting your head at him. "and where are the groceries, by the way?" 

satoru looks away, hands tapping on the back of your neck, humming innocently. "oh, i might've... slightly misplaced those." 

"satoru." 

"i got distracted--but it's not my fault. there's a new kakigori shop down the block." 

you look at him blandly. 

satoru, because he cannot be trusted, smiles sweetly at you as he places a peck on your lips, as a sort of apology. 

obviously, you don't return it. not even in the slightest.

satoru hums as he pulls back, already knowing that he's won. "so, i'll just get dinner..." he says, grinning at you. 

you roll your eyes but wrap your hands around his neck, letting a little smile fall across your face. 

*

you and satoru are sitting on the couch when you see megumi creeping down the hall, on his tiptoes, purposefully not looking at the two of you. 

it's been an hour or two, the silence echoing across the house almost a bad omen. 

but you decided not to bother either of them. considering the fact that you still don't know why they were really fighting, or why they didn't just talk about it like they usually would, it seemed like the best option. 

and also, satoru shouldn't be involved in any conflict resolution. he'd probably suggest wrestling it out in the backyard. 

still, as you watch him pass by, you lean away from satoru, your legs completely tangled in his. you stretch your neck to watch him, relying on satoru's hand around your waist to keep you steady, but he's too far down the hall for you to see where he's going. 

but a moment later, you hear him knock on a door, and then a small, quiet voice telling him to come in. 

you relax back against satoru, already grinning proudly. "see? i fixed it." 

satoru laughs, his breath soft against your temple. "you didn't do anything. megumi just felt guilty." 

"well, i taught him that." 

satoru noses the side of your head. "mmm, i'm pretty sure i did." 

"of course you didn't." 

he shakes you a little, as a punishment for your words, but sighs. "what were they fighting about anyway?" 

"megumi was mean to one of tsumiki's friends, i think. i missed... pretty much all of it." 

"who?" 

you frown. "chiyo?" 

satoru snorts a little, and you shift to look at him, raising your brow. "megumi mentioned her."

you turn even more, eyes wide. you poke his cheek with a finger, and then wave for him to continue.  

satoru groans, fingers trailing through your hair. "he said that he overheard some girls talking about 'miki." 

"behind her back?" 

satoru smiles, a bit sadly, nodding. 

"oh." 

"yeah, oh." 

you frown. “what did they say?”

satoru licks his lips, watching your eyes as you concentrate on him. “dunno. megumi wouldn’t tell me.”

you roll your eyes. “of course not,” you say, sighing. “and he didn’t tell her?”

satoru winces. "okay, so… maybe i told him not to,” he whispers, like a confession, voice going a bit high at the end. and then he laughs at your annoyed expression. "what? i didn't want her to get sad." 

you shake your head at him, tsking. 

you could scold him for protecting tsumiki, but you know that you probably would've done the same. 

so you just turn back towards the hallway, resting your head against his shoulder. after a moment, satoru nuzzles himself into your neck, humming against your skin. 

it's a very unpleasant feeling. 

"do you think i should go get them for dinner?" you ask him, quietly. 

"nah," he kisses the side of your neck, looking down the hall with you. "give them a little while." 

and it's about twenty minutes later that the two siblings walk back into the living room, megumi's lip quirked at tsumiki, and tsumiki beaming back.

after all, you and satoru have taught them well. 

*

next part | series masterlist

#gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru fluff #satoru gojo #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x y/n #satoru x reader #satoru x you #satoru x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujustu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen #a typical family

[ilguna]

Piano Sessions: "White Leather" by Wolf Alice + Finnick Odair x reader, their relationship had just started when Quarter Quell happened and both sent to arena, when the rebels pull victors out she gets left behind but her tracker was taken out and the gamemakers can't find her in arena. so everyone assumes she's dead but she escapes. while she's on the run she thinks about the life she wants with Finnick (maybe she sees the propo he does and he says something about her death). as "star squad" makes their way through the capitol they are reunited.

☼ white leather (Finnick Odair) ☼

warnings; swearing, death mention, reader has an injury.

wc; 5.7k

prompt; Piano Sessions: songfic, white leather by wolf alice. not noticable.

--

The seasons are changing, the warmth is fleeting, and the loneliness is burrowing in your heart. While you were being roasted alive a few weeks ago due to the unrelenting heat, mother nature has since decided to be kind rather than cruel. With summer ending, it allows her to relax, iron fist loosening.

It’s perfect timing, too.

If you had to endure it for any longer, you think you would’ve stopped traveling, ultimately setting you back. It was different when you were in the arena, because you weren’t actively moving for the entire day, just in increments. Out here you have no choice, especially if you want to make it back.

The Capitol can’t be that much further. After walking in the trees of Panem for hours at a time for weeks, it has got to be around here somewhere. You know for certain that you’re heading in the right direction because you stumbled into District Nine by accident. 

You didn’t even realize you had, even though you crossed through a fence to get inside. In your defense, there’s a lot of sectioned off areas inside of the wilderness, with no apparent reason why. What should’ve given you a clue was the burnt wheat field, stretching as far as your eyes could see.

In the distance, you could make out buildings, something that also wasn’t too unusual, considering that when the districts were formed after the Dark Days, a lot of structures were abandoned. You’ve been hopping between them, actually. It’s dangerous, they’re falling apart, and there’s critters absolutely everywhere, but you don’t have much of an option. 

You’ve tried sleeping under the stars, it’s not at all comfortable. You get increasingly paranoid as the hours drag on, afraid of the wild animals coming across you. You’d be able to defend yourself, with the knife that you have from the Quarter Quell arena. In the case of a pack, you’d be screwed.

They’d tear you apart, and then you’d have to add on their damage to injuries you already have. The last thing you need right now is another infected wound. The one on your forearm is bad enough. It’s your own fault, you dug out the tracker prematurely, assuming that you’d be rescued out of the arena, because that was the plan. 

When Katniss short circuited the dome using the lightning, she unintentionally messed up the plan, putting the rebels on a time crunch. They were able to get her, Finnick and Beetee out of the arena, you believe. Which left you, Johanna and Peeta behind. And Enobaria, but she doesn’t really count.

You ran across your allies, tried to tell them that if they didn’t want to fall into Capitol hands, then they had to escape that minute. Johanna, who usually trusts your judgement, was resistant to the idea of escaping the dome. She didn’t like the idea of having to survive outside of it, not knowing where to go. She wanted to play it safe, and if that meant enduring whatever the Capitol had in store, then that’s what had to be done. 

You would’ve argued with her, possibly even convinced her, if the hovercraft hadn’t appeared above the three of you. They knew exactly where they were because of the trackers they still had. With you being set on not being captured, you ran, leaving them behind, while you got out of the dome.

They should’ve caught you. It was an open field for at least a mile, they easily could’ve seen you, shot you and scooped you up. You don’t think you’ve ever run so fast in your life. Johanna and Peeta must’ve put up a fight, if it took them that long to grab them out.

You didn’t hear news for a long time, not until that farmer caught up with you in that wheat field. She was out of breath, face a bright red from running for so long, sweat running down from her temples. You paused, watching in slight amusement as she tried to catch her breath, clearly wanting a conversation.

“You… what are you… doing out here?” She gasped, a hand on her chest. “If the Peacekeepers catch you…”

At the mention of Peacekeepers, you were no longer smiling. “Where am I?”

Her face twisted. “Well, District Nine, of course.”

The burnt field clicked then, and you turned to look at it with new eyes. It also explained why the fence you climbed over was harder than the last few. Which then got your mind working, wondering if you’d been in District Nine the week before, because it was heavily barbed.

“My name is (Y/n).” You said, head shaking. “I don’t live here, I’m a victor from District Four.”

She squinted at you, unbelieving. She eyed your body, the clothes you were wearing, which is nothing but an undershirt, a pair of shorts and water boots. Not the typical clothing for a farmer out in the fields, you guessed. You came to the right conclusion, because her mouth opened.

“You’re supposed to be dead.” She told you. “How did you get out of the arena?”

“It fell apart. I simply climbed out.” 

She made a noise, as if the answer was too easy. “Where are you heading? District Four?”

“No, the Capitol. How far away am I?”

“Close, but you’re going in the wrong direction. You need to get to District Two, they cracked the Nut.” She pointed over your shoulder. “If you get to the rebel base, they’ll help you there.”

You nodded slowly. “They still have Peacekeepers here?”

“We’re too close, that’s why they haven’t retreated. They’ve up and abandoned the further districts. They wiped out District Twelve completely.”

You tilted your head. “Everyone’s dead?”

“They bombed it, seen it in the propos with Katniss Everdeen. Some of her people made it out, they’re in District Thirteen now. Not much left of ‘em.”

“Right.” You murmured. “Thank you for the help.”

“Wait, don’t you want me to look at that for you?” She motioned to where you’d cut out the tracker. “It looks nasty.”

“I don’t have time.”

“Well, good luck.” She said, “You better hurry and get out of here.”

“I will.”

She nodded, watching as you turned away, heading for District Two. From what you’ve gathered, you’re confident enough to say that the Quarter Quell arena was placed in the space between Districts Eight, Nine and Two. When you picture the map of Panem in your mind, it’s the area that makes the most sense.

A part of you wishes that you’d taken up her offer on cleaning out the cut. You have some herbal knowledge, which is what’s keeping it from killing you, but that has nothing on real medicine. This could’ve been healed days ago, and it likely wouldn’t have left a scar.

There’s also so many questions that come to mind since talking to her. Parts of the conversation that didn’t make sense to you. The biggest one being her telling you that you should be dead. Why? At the very least, the Capitol should know that you made it out alive. Especially if they did a sweep of the arena and didn’t come out with your body.

Unless they figured that you escaped and you’ve died out here somewhere, starving and alone. Which is the dumbest conclusion that they could possibly come to. With your track history, the bare minimum that you’ve lived off of your entire life, including your Games, they should know you’re a parasite that you can’t get rid of so easily.

If there’s one good thing that’s come out of fighting in the Hunger Games, it’s that you know how to survive. It would’ve been harder to do if you were rusty, but your time in the arena was a refresher, setting you up to live out here, which is not nearly as difficult. You don’t actively have other tributes hunting you down every waking second. 

If the Capitol really thinks that you’ve died, they have a surprise coming.

Your feet stutter a step when you realize what that means. It’s not just the Capitol, District Nine believes it too. There’s a good chance that they’re advertising it to the rest of the districts, then. You wouldn’t put it past them, they rub factors in your faces all the time, like District Thirteen. They led you to think that it’d been destroyed decades ago, when in reality, they came to an agreement that allowed Thirteen to slip out without the others noticing.

Oh, you hope that Finnick isn’t believing the same thing that girl did. You really hope that he wouldn’t take their word for it. But why wouldn’t he? District Thirteen didn’t have enough resources to rescue you all, and the Capitol was right there. Who’s to say that you didn’t die before they could get you out? Or that they didn’t kill you in captivity? Or that they’re secretly hiding you.

They could say anything they wanted about you, and he’d have no choice but to believe it because there’s no evidence proving otherwise.

You’ve been thinking about Finnick a lot lately out here while you walk, mostly your future. It was discussed briefly before the Quarter Quell, because the two of you had come to the agreement of volunteering for the Games. The conversation didn’t get very far after you started talking about the hypothetical rebellion if the arena did work out.

If you had it your way, you think you would’ve talked to him about what he wants to do after the rebellion, because you have so many ideas. Primarily, you’ll be able to travel, you won’t be held down by District Four. You and Finnick could spend months bouncing between districts, and come back home when you get tired of it.

For the first time in your lives, you’ll have freedom. You’ll be able to do anything you want with little to no limit. There will be no more Hunger Games, no more months of preparation with teenagers that have no choice. There won’t be any interruptions, something that held the two of you back for so long.

And you’re not talking about the Games being a burden, you mean the relationship you’ve been denying. You and Finnick have had unavoidable chemistry for years, but between district life and the Capitol, there was no room to explore until recently. And even that seems to have been a mistake, something that should’ve waited.

Except, neither of you could suppress the urges any longer. You were already sharing longing looks and gentle touches, there was no point in withholding the pleasures when you were already dipping into it. That’s why you made it official in April, four months after the announcement, three months before the reaping. 

There had been countless nights where you stayed up, dreaming of the day where you’d be able to be yourselves. Where the stars would align perfectly to allow you to become more than just friends. When it finally happened, you almost didn’t believe the words coming out of Finnick’s mouth.

It’s been difficult to take it slow with him, because you feel like you’ve been dating him this entire time, under the table. You might not have been physical with him, but the emotional aspect was there. In your mind, he was already yours. And he admitted to you that he felt the same, that you belonged to him years ago.

You remember shivering when he told you that, because you had a feeling that it was true. These were words that you thought you’d have to wait to hear come out of his mouth. He was eager to tell you these truths, like a weight being lifted off of his chest. Like he’d been planning the exact moment they’d slip out of his lips in a whisper.

When this is over—when the rebellion is done—you want Finnick to yourself. It’s what you deserve at the very least, after all that you’ve been through. If it’s up to you, you’d want him to propose once Panem has begun to relax. You don’t want the teasing, or more years of build up. You just want to make him officially yours, forever.

Whatever comes after doesn’t matter. As long as you can say that he’s your husband, and you’ve agreed to love each other eternally. You’ll take what’s thrown your way with grace. You won’t ask for anything ever again. You’ll be especially good, if you could get what you wanted for once.

You step through the treeline into a meadow, letting you get a clear view of what’s ahead. You take a few steps before you come to a stop, staring at the colorful buildings in the distance. While you had tried your best to stay on track for District Two, you eventually came to the conclusion that you’d rather go to the Capitol, like you’d originally planned.

It’s not that far now. If you keep going, you think you’ll make it there sometime tomorrow.

—

Four hours. That’s all the time it took for you to realize that the situation has majorly changed here. The further you travel into the Capitol, the more it grows increasingly obvious. Especially if they’ve turned to violence to keep people out.

It’s a ghost town, which is not what you expected. The streets are usually crowded, with no space on the pastel sidewalk, crawling with people dressed in bright color. You were sure that you’d get spotted in the first minute of stepping foot into the city. It turns out that you had nothing to worry about.

Well, that’s not necessarily true. While you were temporarily relieved to find out that the outer half of the Capitol had been evacuated, you were put back on alert when you figured out why. There are traps placed on almost every street, with exponential damage to the buildings around.

You’ve yet to figure out if it’s the Capitol trying to defend themselves, or the rebels ensuring that if citizens return, they’ll be met with resistance. If you had to guess, you’re leaning more toward the Capitol. The way the traps are placed are methodological—it’s a pattern you’ve seen before. It reminds you a lot of the Gamemakers.

The traps are nearly perfectly hidden, the triggers in plain sight. You fell victim to the first few, but once you started to really notice where they were and what they’d contain, it was so much easier to avoid them. Once in a while, you’ll find yourself trapped, where you have no choice but to set them off. In those cases, you duck and cover, hoping for the best.

With the sun setting, you think it’s about time you call it a night. The last thing you’d want is to miss a sign and get yourself seriously injured. Everything is easier in the daylight. Besides, you covered a lot of ground today, more than you thought you would. 

You stop in front of a lime green apartment building with front doors that are made out of frosted glass. You grab the handle, pulling it open to slip inside. The lobby is cool, reflecting the temperature on the outside. It’s very carefully decorated here, with tall green plants in white pots and a small loveseat with a side table. On top of it is a magazine, with Katniss and Peeta on the front cover.

You wander forward, looking at the directory to find a paper taped to the front of it, the words successfully evacuated printed across the middle in bold writing. You lift it up to see beneath it, curious to how many floors there are. There’s five of them, you’ll probably stay on the third floor to keep from going too high.

As you start up the steps, you keep a sharp ear and eye out for noises or cameras that might capture your appearance. Just because this part of the Capitol has been evacuated, doesn’t mean that they’ve surrendered control entirely. For all you know, there’s Peacekeeper bases around here, ready for the signal to round a rebel up.

When you reach the third floor, you choose the unit that’s located next to the fire escape that you step out of. The door is locked, of course. You hold out your knife, staring down at it. It’s dulled considerably because you’ve been using it for everything while you’ve been traveling. This will be its last job.

You stuff the blade into the keyhole, wiggling it from side to side. For a second, nothing happens, and then there’s a click. You twist the knob, pushing in, opening the door to reveal the expensive living room. You pull the knife out but leave the door open as you inspect the apartment from top to bottom. When you’re convinced there’s no one, you pick up a dining room chair, going back to the front door. You shut it, lock it as best as you can, and then shove the chair as stiffly as you can beneath the knob.

The first thing you do is raid the bedroom, tearing it apart for clothes that you’ll be able to wear without looking ridiculous. Once you have an outfit that makes sense, you shower, watching as all the built-up dirt and dried blood mixes in the water, creating a grainy substance at the bottom of the white shower.

You feel so much better when you step out, drying yourself off. You change, letting the bathroom air out while you go through every cabinet you can, searching for the medical supplies. They’re hidden when you do find them, but they’re top-grade, the type of medicine that you’d send to tributes in the arena to get them healed within days.

You read over the ointment’s directions, and then you slather it over the open wound in your arm. Your teeth are grit hard enough that you think you’ll break them, toes curling at the pain it’s causing. It burns as it works its magic, you toss the tube on the counter, leaving to go back to the living room.

The sun has fully set now, there’s barely any light coming through the windows. Still, you shut the curtains, blocking out the rest of it. You head to the kitchen next, digging through the pantry to find countless cans and boxed goods. You pull out a few familiar soups because you’re starving. After you’ve finally located a spoon, you go to sit on the living room floor in the dark to eat.

You could heat it up, you’re sure that it’d be better that way, but you don’t want to risk more than you have to. You open the can, dipping your spoon inside, and raising the creamy substance to your lips. As expected, it’s not very good when it’s cold. Yet, it could be worse.

You manage to get down half the can before an alarm cuts through the stillness, making you jump in surprise. Your hand wraps around the knife before the television set lights up on its own, and you’re immediately greeted with the face of Beetee Latier.

“This is a repeated broadcast from District Thirteen, a reminder of the faces we’ve lost to get here.” He says. “We Remember, do you?”

It cuts to Haymitch Abernathy, sitting in a dark room, wearing a grey jumpsuit. The background is an empty area. To an extent, he looks better than the last time you saw him. 

A feminine voice speaks from off-camera. “What do you remember about Cashmere and Gloss Ritchson, the brother and sister duo from District One?”

“They were a bright pair of mentors, even when they were teenagers.” Haymitch says, staring at the camera. “There was nothing the two of them couldn’t do, and it showed time and time again when they performed miracles outside of the arena. Cashmere had an undeniable dedication that was admired by everyone, and Gloss was very hardworking to ensure his tributes got the best possible. It’s a great loss we’ve suffered losing them to the Quarter Quell.”

You squint, eyebrows twitching. Is this a memorial piece? If so, it’s a little funny for someone like Haymitch to speak about Cashmere and Gloss, considering that they were never invited into the alliance. Or thought about twice, beyond the idea of them possibly killing Katniss or Peeta.

The screen fades to black slowly, before Haymitch comes up again. “Brutus, he won a couple years after I did. He was friendly to me after my Games, and had briefly tried to help me after the tragic loss of my family.” He pauses to sigh. “Even though we could never see eye to eye, that did not keep him from drinking with me on occasion.”

Beetee shows up in the next clip, in the same spot that Haymitch was on a stool, only he’s in a wheelchair. Something must’ve happened between the arena and now. You wonder if it has anything to do with the lightning tree.

“Wiress was very intuitive, incredibly intelligent.” He adjusts his glasses, shaking his head. “It may appear that we have lost no one at all, but with her absence, Panem will not function the same. She worked alongside me to create some of the more important Capitol devices, a factor they neglected to think about. We will miss her dearly.”

You finish the can of soup, and you’re pulling on the tab to open the next when his face shows up on screen. Finnick sits on the stool, eyes puffy and a little bloodshot, bags underneath from the lack of sleep. There’s a slouch in his posture, a small length of rope in his fingers that he fiddles with.

“Tell us about (Y/n) (L/n).” The female voice says.

Finnick swallows, voice quiet. “What isn’t there to say?” He asks, looking into the camera. “She was my best friend, and more than that, my girlfriend. She was the kindest person I’ve ever known, always so considerate and patient with everyone around her. How President Snow can take such a gentle life and then brag about it is a mystery.”

Your blood runs cold, suspicions confirmed. So, they have been broadcasting you as dead. They saw an opportunity and took it, wanting to make themselves look more ruthless. When in reality, they haven’t so much as touched you since you escaped.

“I love her and I miss her.” He says, tired eyes filling with tears. An overwhelming urge to reach through the screen to hold him seizes you. “If I had known my time with her would be cut short, I would’ve done everything to protect her.” He breathes shakily. “This is why we must stop the Hunger Games. For loved ones like (Y/n).”

Finnick is gone, once again replaced by Haymitch, who begins to speak about Mags, your mentor. For the first few seconds you stare at the screen, face slowly twisting before it hits you.

Mags is dead.

“What?” You murmur, sitting up.

“Mags was the first mentor to approach me after I won my Games.” Haymitch says. “She was a sweet woman that could see the pain and understood what I was going through. I was the first victor of District Twelve, she was the first face of the Hunger Games. And for as long as I let her, she helped me mentor.”

Of course she did. That’s who Mags is—was. If she saw someone that needed help, she was there. She even approached Johanna after her Games to give her some tips because Johanna was slowly sinking. 

“Mags did not deserve to die the way she did.” Haymitch says.

It moves on to the next victor, the woman from Five who was killed in the arena. You try to listen, but it’s difficult. You can feel yourself slowly getting sucked out of your body and into the open air. You’re here, but are you really?

The entirety of Panem thinks you’re dead, and as serious as the situation is—it’s a little funny. If this is the rerun, that means that they’ve been Finnick speak on your death dozens of times. There is not one person left in this country that believes otherwise.

But you’re not dead. You’re here, in one of the many luxurious Capitol apartments, eating someone else’s vegetable soup that they’ve saved. If you had gone to District Two like the girl from Nine told you to, this wouldn’t be the rumor.

For the remaining eight districts, the statements are brought from the victors that now reside in District Thirteen or some faces of previous Capitol citizens. Which you can tell by the way their skin is tinted or the tattoos that line their bodies. There’s even a part where a former Avox sits on the stool, signing while his brother translates.

It wraps up with Finnick talking about Rue and the future that was stolen from her. She was just an innocent child, and the Capitol thought it was right to force her to fight for her life with other older kids, who were much bigger and more skilled. When she should’ve been at home, with her family.

Beetee shows up at the end, hands in his lap. “We Remember.” 

The screen dies, but not completely. It glows faintly, illuminating the small area that you’re sitting in. You need to get out of here—out of the Capitol, at least. You should be with Finnick. He needs to know that you’re alive, because the idea of you being dead is killing him. After the two of you fought to be together, you’ve been ripped from his fingertips.

You don’t sleep tonight. 

You want to, with the couch being the comfiest thing you’ve laid down on in months. You know that the apartment is secured, you triple-checked everything. No one is coming to get you. This isn’t what keeps you up.

So, you relax in front of the television in the living room, eyelids feeling heavy the moment your head touches the pillow. When they shut, that’s when the problem rises. You’re not tired anymore, even after counting sheep for what feels like hours, your mind is still running.

By the time the sun is peeking through the curtains, you’re ready to leave the apartment with a packed bag. It has the essentials inside like food and water, and the ointment you’ll be using to heal your arm. You’ve grown too attached to the knife you had in the arena, so you find a way to sharpen it, giving you a reason to keep it.

The streets look the same way as they did yesterday, nothing has magically shifted. You head for the train tracks that’ll bring you to a tunnel that runs to District Two. It’s what the girl in Nine called the Nut. It serves several purposes, including training the new Peacekeepers underground, but it’s also the easiest path to get in and out of the Capitol.

While you should’ve gone to District Two straight away, you’re glad you didn’t. If you had, you wouldn’t have known the whole story. You can’t imagine how overwhelming it could’ve been if you came across the rebels and they bombarded you about how you’re alive. 

You travel blindly through the streets, dodging and setting off traps, watching the chaos that follows. A few of them are made up of weapons that shoot out once triggered. You manage to react quickly most of the time, but you still come out with a few nicks from blades that are impossibly sharp.

Other traps are made up of insects that are abnormally colored and move in ways that they shouldn’t be capable of. When you see this, you decide that you’re right to say that they’re designed by the Capitol’s Gamemakers, because it makes no logical sense the other way around.

When it appears to be around lunch, you stop to eat in a shop with broken windows, stomach growling. There’s a nice aqua blue couch a few feet away from the door, void of the glass shards that litter the tile floor. You open a can of soup, and dig out a small pack of crackers to have with it. 

It’s still disgustingly cold, and yet it could be worse. After what you ate in the woods these last few weeks, anything is a good meal compared to that. Even the crackers seem like a treat.

You set the empty can on the floor when you finish, sitting back against the cushions, staring through the open window. A pair of black birds circle over a nearby alley for a minute. They’re the first sign of life that you’ve seen in this city since you got here, besides the mutts that come out of the traps.

They settle on the roof of a building, side by side, much like the birds at home when they land on power lines. You’re about to look away, when you watch as they both simultaneously tilt their heads, attention set on whatever is in the alley. Your face twists, confused.

As soon as they open their beaks, beginning to screech, you realize that they’re not birds, either. They look to be like jabberjays—a Capitol weapon. You get to your feet, swinging the bag strap over your shoulder. You don’t know how they can see you, because they are definitely not facing your direction. You shouldn’t be in their view.

You take a single step, before you freeze where you are, watching as a group of people dart out from the alleyway. They’re dressed in black, wearing combat gear and carrying weapons. You’re terrified, wondering how the Peacekeepers have found you, until you realize that they are not Peacekeepers. Peacekeepers wear white.

There’s almost a dozen of them, and their leader is pointing his finger down the street to your right, an area you haven’t explored yet. He barks out an order, one of the girls in the middle turns with a gun, shooting at the jabberjay. They flap their wings, rising from where they’re perched, flying around.

Rebels.

Your lips part, wanting to speak, but the words die in your throat. You’re not dressed like they are, you look like you belong in the Capitol because of the clothes you’re wearing. You’re even sitting in an abandoned boutique as if you’re not completely surrounded by danger.

It doesn’t matter, they’re gone before you can work up the courage to speak. You watch as one of the boys toward the end grabs another boy with blonde hair, pulling him along. Neither of them stick out in your mind, and then the first boy turns, looking over his shoulder, right at you.

It’s Finnick. It’s Finnick, and he’s pulling along Peeta. 

You move now, trying to follow him. You’re sure he’s seen you, but as you step out of the shop and in front of it, looking at where you’d been standing, you see that it’s too dark to make out much of anything. The awning above the street blocks any sunlight that might be able to get inside.

“Hey,” You call, walking after them. They’re moving too fast, trying to escape the birds, running around the corner. You begin to jog, not wanting to lose them in the maze of Capitol streets. 

Even as a team, they move remarkably fast. You’re barely catching Finnick’s bronze hair in glimpses each time they take a turn. They’re losing the birds, though. And even worse, you.

“Hey!” You shout, sprinting down the street. “Wait!”

It grows more narrow, crowded with decorations that citizens couldn’t pull inside before leaving. There’s many places to hide, too many buildings to duck into. You can’t see Finnick anymore, much less hear the stomping of their boots against the asphalt. 

When you’re breathing so hard that you’re sure you’re going to throw up your lunch, you slow down, coming to a stop in the middle of the walkway. Your face contorts, hands on your hand.

“Fuck.” You breathe, walking at a slow pace. “Finnick!”

You peer into the local stores, checking behind every bush. You know that eight people would never be able to hide around this area without splitting up. They could’ve gone anywhere.

“Finnick, please!” You stop in the middle of a crossroads, taking your time to look down what each road offers. “It’s me, it’s (Y/n)! I’m alive!” You struggle to breathe normally, whispering, “Please, I’m alive.”

When there’s no appearance, you sigh. The one chance you had, and now he’s gone.

“(Y/n)?” A faraway voice asks.

You turn instantly to face the person, finding Finnick standing at the end of a walkway. He’s not alone. In fact, he’s with the leader of the group, who’s clutching a large gun in his hands, wary. This doesn’t bother you.

“Finnick.” You say, starting toward him. “Oh my god.”

There’s a deep crease between his eyebrows, watching you come closer. “You’re—how are you here?”

You walk straight into his arms, letting him crush you against his body. You grip on tightly to his shoulder, face pressed into the space above the vest. He presses a kiss into your hair once, then twice, and again and again. When he’s had enough, he pulls away, grabbing your face to kiss your lips.

It’s gentle, loving, but quickly turns greedy as he refuses to let you go. And when he does, it’s not because he needs to breathe, it’s because his shoulders are shaking. His face is wet, eyes filled with tears. You bring his forehead to yours, thumbs wiping away the tears.

“It’s okay, Finnick.” You murmur.

“The Capitol said you were dead. They showed your body. How are you—?”

“I escaped out of the arena.” You tell him, stroking his hair. “I’ve been in the trees between the districts the whole time. I got here yesterday.”

He backs away, lips pressed together, tears still sliding down his cheeks. “Of course you did.

You pout, shaking your head. “I cut the tracker out.” You show him your arm, which is looking better this afternoon, but still far from healed. “I’m not sure who’s body you saw, but it wasn’t mine.” You reach for his hands. “I am so, so sorry.”

He pulls you back into his body, hugging you. “You’re alive, (Y/n). That’s all that matters to me.” He frowns. “I’m not leaving you again.”

“I’m going to hold you to that.”

-

this was part of my 3k celebration!!

#ilguna #finnick odair #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair oneshot #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair x you #finnick odair x yn #finnick odair x y/n #finnick imagine #finnick fanfic #finnick oneshot #finnick x reader #finnick x you #finnick x yn #finnick x y/n #thg #the hunger games #angst #anon #ask #3k celebration #requested

[look-at-the-soul]

The way to a man’s heart

Tommy Shelby x reader (dark) -minor smut mentioned

Wrote this for my dear Lee @zablife 1.8 k celebration 🎉 congratulations my dear Lee! I wanted to write this for you remembering how much you made me enjoy dark stories and it’s a great excuse to wish you a thousand more followers, thank you for being so kind always, for always having something nice to offer and the absolutely brilliant ideas you share! ✨👏🏻

My first (and probably only) attemp to write a little “corrupt” story, this idea came to me naturally and I hope I was able to deliver the main point since it’s so far away from my usual fluff 🥰

They say food it’s the way to man’s heart. But to a man like Tommy Shelby who rarely eats and has a whiskey and cigarette for breakfast, that doesn’t make a huge difference.

Those methods wouldn’t work with a man like Tommy, he needed other kinds of resources.

Looking at her reflection in the mirror, Y/N fixed her hair and reapplied her lipstick. Stepping back into the bedroom, she found him in the same spot he was when she got up; lying on his back against the headboard and his eyes lost in some point at the ceiling, one of his hands touching the hem of the sheets covering his lower body.

She definitely took his breath away, it was easy to tell judging by his post-sex drunk state. Who was she trying to fool? Y/N knew the kind of power she held over him.

His blue eyes covered by his specs followed her every move as she walked towards the bed wearing only the bottom part of her silky underwear, her hips swaying to a tune that him weak, not only physically, but emotionally.

“You’re so quiet darling.” She purred in his ear, after climbing back into the bed.

“I missed you.” He admitted bluntly. “I don’t want you to leave ever again, you understand?”

Y/N started running her fingers over his chest hair. “You know why I did it, your family hates me.”

Tommy turned his head towards her.

“I’m so sad you believed them, over me.” She pouted. “I’d never betray you.”

“Nothing they do or say matters anymore, I know you didn’t… I trust you.”

“But they will try to tear us apart.” She complained, looking at her hands.

Tommy changed his position on the bed, leaning on his forearm, he used his other hand to make Y/N look at him. “I’ll protect you, from now on you’re my only priority.”

“How could they even imagine I was the one who got them arrested? You never mentioned anything to me.” Y/N batted her eyelashes, one of her fingers removing an invisible tear.

“I shouldn’t have listen to them, I made a mistake but I’m trying to make it up to you for that.” Tommy’s fingers caressed her chin gently. The last thing he wanted was to upset her more than he already had. “I’m taking over this, I will demand every single one of my family to apologize to you.”

“No, Tommy that’ll cause a confrontation, specially with your aunt… I’m just so glad they got released on time, it was so close.” With a loud sigh, Y/N leaned her head on his shoulder, her soft hand running up and down his arm.

“You never told me how you were able to get the letters, those must be some pretty important contacts.” He recalled the really late night when she knocked on his door with a copy of each letter to release his family from the death sentence, Y/N saved them from getting hanged last minute. He would be forever grateful with her.

That’s when Tommy realized how much she loved him, how she was willing to do anything for him.

Y/N noticed his piercing eyes on her. “What?”

“Something is bothering you.” Tommy stated.

She shook her head. “It’s just… it’s not fair for you Tommy, look at everything you have gave your family, power, money, their lifestyle, everything they have it’s because of you… it wasn’t your fault the police took them.” She looked at him, batting her eyelashes. “And look at how they treat you? The lack of respect makes me feel annoyed, they won’t even talk to you although you somehow managed to save them from getting hanged.”

“They are all angry because of what happened. It must’ve been a shock to be so close to death.”

“Don’t try to justify their attitude towards you darling, you’re too good for them, you’re always cleaning up their mess, helping them with everything… they don’t deserve you.”

Tommy sighed, defeated, thinking of her words… she was right, his family couldn’t even thank him for getting them out of jail in one piece.

“Look at this place, just the two of us, this is all we need. Just cut a little their privileges and you’ll see how they’ll come on their knees.”

“I understand they’re angry, but over time, they will come around.” He tried to reason.

“And then what? They will create more drama around me and try to make you turn your back at me, just like they already had, I’m worried because they almost succeeded.”

“I’m so glad you showed up in my office to explain me what happened with Pol.”

“She can’t stand that you’re better than her, I’m sure she wants her son to take over your place, you should be careful with your cousin I’m sure he’s after you.”

Tommy shook his head. “Michael isn’t like that, he’s just a lost kid, wants to blend in with the family.”

Y/N moved her hand lower, to a dangerous zone, over his hip bone. His member started to grow involuntary at the sensation of her warm palm close to his manhood.

“Arthur never listens to you and look at Finn, he’s always doing as he pleases.” Tommy hissed as her hand wrapped around his shaft and started dancing up and down. “You need to tighten the reins around your family or they will ruin your plans.”

But Tommy was already focusing on the feeling of her legs straddling him and the movements of her hand, taking him to a better place where he didn’t have to argue or yell or demand anything, she knew how to please him, she listened to him and his loud mind. In no time, he found himself inside of her, the only place where he could forget about every worry and doubt, her velvety walls fluttering around his hard member, her nails on his chest scratching him.

Demanding only pleasure from him.

And he delivered returning the pleasure she provoked in him.

Later the doorbell made her open her eyes, heavy from their love-making, Y/N looked down at the man sleeping in her arms. Careful to not wake Tommy up, she slid from under his body, covering her naked frame with the jacket of his suit.

Pretending to be surprised by the woman in front of her -because she called his aunt on behalf of Tommy-, she made evident the mark on her neck that Tommy left.

“Sorry for not inviting you in, but your nephew is sleeping.”

Polly shot her a shocked look mixed with all the contempt in her heart after realizing how she had fooled Tommy and turned everything around in her favor.

“Who’s it?” He asked from the top of the stairs.

Quickly, Y/N pulled Polly for a short hug to whisper in her ear:

“Next time the letter won’t arrive on time to save you from getting hanged. I want you and every fucking member of the family out of Tommy’s life.”

“You can’t do that.” Polly looked at her with terror in her eyes, why was she back with Tommy? After finding out all the lies she had him wrapped in, Polly tried to make Tommy open his eyes, but everything turned out wrong and they were back together.

“I’ve him by the balls, that’s stronger than any blood ties. It’s up to you if you want me to turn him against all of you.” Y/N gave Polly one smile that assured her victory before turning around to face Tommy. “Your aunt said she wants to talk to you, just be quick darling, I’ll be waiting in the bedroom.”

Standing on her tiptoes, Y/N pulled Tommy by the neck for a passionate kiss, she devoured his mouth completely, demanding the same response from him. Just one kiss and he was put into some kind of spell.

Tommy made sure Y/N was out of sight before grabbing Polly by the arm to make her stand closer to the door.

“Y/N explained me everything, I want you to apologize to her tomorrow and after that I want you out of the Shelby Company Ltd. I won’t be tolerating one more intrigues from you, she didn’t lie to me.”

“She’s manipulating you!” Polly hissed, shocked to see her nephew completely blinded by that woman.

“Pol stop! You thought you succeed but nothing you can do will take her away from me, she loves me and she forgave me for doubting her words.”

“How can you be so fool? She’s using sex to-”

“That’s what you came for? Ey?” Tommy raised his voice. “That’s all, I want your resignation letter tomorrow morning.” He placed his hand on Polly’s back to guide her out of his house.

“She lied!”

“Stop this bullshit Polly, Y/N didn’t know you shot Campbell because I never told her.”

Hiding in the dark, but close enough to hear, Y/N smiled pleased, Tommy didn’t know how much he could talk after several strong drinks and mixing it with the mind blowing sex and he could turn into the most talkative person.

But her smile grew bigger as she heard him yelling at his aunt, saying things Polly would never forgive him for, breaking their business partnership finally, just like she had planned all along.

“I knew she would try to tell you more lies about me.” She crossed her arms against her chest and slowed down her pace, hiding her grin with her hair.

Tommy’s arms found their way around her waist, in a comforting motion.

“I know you’re not lying to me,” he stated firmly. “We’re going to start over, away from this shit, ey?”

“Is that a promise?” She gave him her best puppy eyes.

“I swear to you, no one is coming between us.”

She felt Tommy kissing the top of her hair.

Now, she only needed to get rid of his brothers and convince him to put the company under her name.

****

Master List

Tag list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney @gretelshelby @gypsy-girl-08 @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan @stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @forbidden-forest-witch @ange-thoughts @moral-terpitude @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @thenattitude @winchestergirl22 @heidimoreton @imichelle-l-rigby @allie131313 @already-broken144 @peakyscillian @babaohhhriley @shelbydelrey @shaddixlife @sloanexx @sydneyyyya @adaydreamaway08 @pono-pura-vida @thomashelbyswife @darleneslane

#That’s what Cill said #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x fem!reader #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x you #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy Shelby smut #peaky blinder imagine

[igotanidea]

No strings attached (2) : neighbor!JT x reader

masterlist

part. 1

***

„What happened?”

When Jason came into the staircase the first thing he noticed was Y/N, who was crouching next to her door with a sad face, cleaning something that seemed awfully like….

“Is that blood?!” he yelled, falling to his knees right next to her.

“What?” she scoffed “Of course not, are you crazy? It’s just paint.”

“sorry….” He mumbled. Jason had way to much experience with blood to not think about that particular thing when he saw Y/N’s door swimming in color red. “Who did this?”

“I have some ideas.” She retorted pointing at one half-scratched word, that at the moment were proudly announcing to the world that she was a bitch. “Guess your lady friend really doesn’t like me.”

“I’m sorry.” Jason said again, a bit of remorse showing on his face “let me help you with this. It’s only fair given the fact it’s all my fault.”

“I can handle it.”

“Please, Y/n.” he whispered and only then she turned around to fully look at him. Well he was fine. Tall and well-build with a mop of black hair with a single white strand right above the forehead and pretty green eyes that were currently showing all of his remorse for the situation.

“What happened to your hair?” she asked just to deflect the tension she felt and that question took them both by surprise.

“It’s…. kinda long story.”

“Really? So it has nothing to do with acting like a bad boy and trying to keep your cool?”

“What?”

“Nothing.” She shook her head and smiled lightly “it’s fine if you don’t want to talk. After all we don’t really know each other.”

“But…..” he tried to chime in but she didn’t let him.

“given the circumstances I think it’s better if you just stay away from me, Jason. I mean look what happened after the first time we talked. Next time some other of your ex-girlfriend see me with you, I’ll probably end up with a knife in my chest or an acid on my face. Not exactly a nice perspective, am I right?”

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Jason hissed trying to reach for the sponge Y/N was using to clean.

“Yeah, sure. Does she know that?”

“I told her!”

“Sorry sunshine, but take it from a girl with experience. She won’t let go easily. I know I wouldn’t.” She babbled and put her hand inside the bucket with water, accidentally touching Jason’s hand. Only then her eyes grew wide at the sudden realization of what she said dawning on her.

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Jason smirked and raised an eyebrow, even if that sudden touch was … nice, to say the least. Gentle, delicate, like nothing he was used to. Definitely not while patrolling and fighting at night. And even when he had female friends it was always physical. Rough animal fuck just to satisfy the basic needs. And it was fine. Convenient for both parties.

Jason was only familiar with pain, anger and a flood of sudden contradictory feelings in both Red Hood and Jason Todd version. And to his own surprise he enjoyed something different coming from Y/N even if she almost immediately retrieved her hand, not giving him w chance to dwell on that feeling.

“No.” she simply said. Nothing more. No explanation, no blushing, no excuses. Just one simple no.

“Shame. I think you are hot too.”

“Sure” she laughed so hard she actually started crying “I’m hot. That’s a hell of a good joke Todd. I look nothing like the hot girls. I mean, look at me.”

“I am…..”

“I’m not skinny, I hate wearing short and dresses because of my curves and I definitely don’t skip on meals just to lose weight and it shows. To quote a classic: I ain’t no size two. I’m fine with the way I look, but I am definitely not hot.”

 “And yet, Madison clearly treats you like a threat.” He pointed out

“a threat?” the girl raised an eyebrow “nah, not at all. I’m nothing more than a stain on her fancy clothes. A stain you need to eradicate and that is precisely what she’s doing.”

“I don’t ….”

“I meant what I said, Todd. You better stay away from me. I really don’t need any more trouble than I already have.”

“Am I trouble to you?”

“You scream trouble. In more ways than one.” She rolled her eyes “I don’t know about you, but I’m fine with silently passing each other on the stairs. I’m not known for being too open with people.”

“Guess we have that in common.” He scratched his neck in an awkward way, wondering what he could possibly say to make her change her mind. The fact was, the more she was trying to push him away, the more he wanted to pull her in. He might have not been the one to form a true relationship, but the way she was acting and pointing at her body barely seconds before, got his mind spinning. He wondered how it would be like to have her. To have an innocent, maybe a bit shy girl and not a vamp, he was so used to, just to get himself off. How it would be like to feel her underneath him, get those soft hands on his body, to kiss all those places where she was insecure, whisper sweet nothings into her ear while making her feel good. Cause sure as hell he would. How it would be like to map her whole body, find the spots that would make her melt into him and elicit sweet whines and moans out of her, all of that while pressing her into the mattress or wall, seeing her face twisting in pleasure, maybe making her scream his name when she came …... Shit! What was happening to him!? He barely met her and she was his neighbor for fuck’s sake. Maybe all of those one-night stands finally messed up his brain. That was what he was doing. One and done? Sure, even if some girls were becoming clingy after one night (Madison being the best example). But fucking a neighbor he would pass by on a daily basis was surely not a good idea. At all.

“Great. I suppose we just made ourselves a deal.” suddenly she stood up bringing him back to reality “wanna shake on it?”

For a moment Jason hesitated. On one hand he wanted to feel her touch again, craved it even. On the other was fully aware that given his not-so-innocent fantasy-filled brain he wouldn’t be able to settle only on that. So he shook his head as an answer, refusing to fuel the fire inside him any further.

“Too bad.” She pouted “Anyway, it’s late and this stupid stain is not coming off. Guess that’s me saying goodbye to my deposit money” Y/N laughed bitterly “I’m just going to head to bed and I suggest you do the same.” She opened the door to her apartment, turning to face him before disappearing inside. ‘Good night, Jason.” she smiled lightly.

“Good night, Y/N” he whispered back, barely holding himself from grabbing her waist, pushing her into the wall and forcing his way in with her.  

*** 

It was not a good night.

Well, definitely not for Jason.

It was irrational and crazy on so many levels, but he simply wanted the girl next door. And once he felt that desire there was no chances for him to let this go.

And the fact that she was giving him mixed signals was not helping at all. Did she tell him to stay away? Yes. But did she said goodbye with that pretty smile and sparkling eyes? Also yes. And fuck if Jason didn’t want to take some action with her.

But then again. He wasn’t doing relationship and hooking up with the neighbor, especially someone who seemed as kind and nice as Y/N would only cause trouble.

“Fuck!” he hissed to himself, barely capable of focusing on patrolling, beating the shit out of the criminals in more violent way than ever, getting needy and horny just by thinking about her. What was she doing at the moment? Was she thinking about him too? In the way he was thinking about her? No, that was nonsense, she had every reason to hate him. But maybe that hate would turn into some tension relieving and getting herself off? Alone? Was she lying in her own bed, touching herself, trying to get that sweet high? Fuck, he would be more than happy to help her with that. To introduce her to new levels of pleasure and ecstasy, which he was perfectly capable of providing.  

If he were to knock on her door right that moment would she even bother opening? Dressed only in her pajamas or even better, wrapped up only in a towel, straight after shower making it so much easier for him to get what he wanted and needed?

Shit.

He could imagine her curvy body, still a bit damp from the water, her sweet smell, the softness of her hair. Her innocent, surprised gaze – the same she made when he first asked her to play his girlfriend in front of Madison.  Holy shit, was she a virgin? Oh, he would be more than happy to be her first. The first to touch her body in a way she never knew before, to make her a woman.  

“Fuck, just stop you idiot!” his mind was definitely falling into straight-from-porn fantasies. “Just stop it!”

But it was easier said than done and getting progressively more painful with every passing minute. And if he wasn’t careful some of the bats patrolling nearby would notice the tent in his jeans and tease him about it. So gathering all his strength, both mental and physical he started beating all those crime lords to a bloody pulp. The sign and smell of blood making him calm down a bit, drawing back the memories of the time when he was the one being beaten with a fucking crowbar and finally – killed.

Yeah, it definitely did wonders to his excitement, but nothing for his mental state and it quickly became more visible than the tent in the jeans.

‘Jace?” of course his caring older brother had to ask “are you doing all right? You got that gaze….”

“Just fuck off, Grayson!” Jason yelled not able to hold himself anymore. “Just fuck off!”

“What is wrong with him today?” Tim’s voice echoed through the comms, but before anyone could give him an answer Jason took off running leaving the surprised bats behind.

God, he just needed to be alone for a few minutes to help himself.

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd x plus size reader #red hood x plus size reader #jason todd angst #jason todd fluff #jason todd smut #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd imagine #jason todd #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x oc #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #red hood fanfiction #red hood imagine #red hood angst #red hood x fem!reader #red hood #red hood x y/n #angst #dc angst #red hood fluff

[kissitbttr]

eddie and mean!cheerleader have their first fight pt.2

read part 1

a/n: definitely no interactions between the two. just more of their perspectives and thoughts on what’s going on (but mostly from eddie)

-

he’s losing his mind.

days without her just feels against the law but he knows he has no one to blame but himself.

for almost two weeks since they had that fight at the field, not even a phone call or a glance were exchanged. avoiding each other at school and out. he can’t sleep nor think knowing that he’s hurt the only girl he has ever cared for. even cried himself to sleep to the thought of losing her completely. it just doesn’t sit well with him.

she’s not doing so great either. he’d would spot her from across the room with sunglasses perched on the bridge of her nose—to cover her red eyes and dark circles—messy bun along with a hoodie and a skirt. the colors she chose just look so depressing and it’s like he’s looking at a different person. not to mention, a hoodie? definitely not something she’d wear.

steve and robin had also informed him about her attitude. how she rarely snaps at someone and putting lip gloss during classes. which worries him because it’s one of her favorite things to do! she hasn’t even tried to confront rebecca after all that shenanigans.

he assumes she had been crying and losing her happiness because of him. and the thought just breaks him even more.

“why don’t you try to talk to her or something?” gareth speaks up, realizing that his best friend’s gaze hasn’t completely left hers,

she’s standing by the locker reading something from one of her books next to her best friend. who seems to be talking a lot and y/n can’t seem to find the fucks she could give to listen.

eddie wants nothing more than to walk up from behind and surprise her by giving kisses down her neck until she giggles. telling him to stop though knowing deep down she doesn’t want him to..

“it’s not that simple, man” he scoffs, putting away his lunch box into the locker. “she hates me. she doesn’t want to talk to me anymore.”

“how do you know for sure? ever since the two of you had a fight, you never even tried to fix things. it’s not her fault if she shut you out. you hurt her, eddie.”

“gee, thanks for the reminder” he responds sarcastically with an eye roll. walking away from the locker with gareth trailing from behind, but not without shooting her one more glance.

he sighs to himself because how did he even manage to fuck up this bad?

“i know I shouldn’t have said all those things. fuck I didn’t know what i was thinking! i love her more than anything and it pains me to know that she’s hurt because of me.” he knock himself in the head, earning a concerned look from his best friend,

“okay now. don’t do that to yourself like that, eds.” gareth squeezes his shoulder blade. “it’s not the end of the world. just… try, okay? the boys missed having her during our campaigns. and I’m sure you missed her too.”

he does. he really, really does.

+

“jason’s throwing a party tonight. you coming?” one of the cheerleaders ask, punching her fork down on the depressing salad that looks like it’s not even edible,

y/n grimaces at the food before answering. “what makes you think i care about that?”

“well you know.. i just thought that you need a break or something.. for everything that has been going on.”

she hums, looking at her dead in the eye. “and what makes you think you know exactly what’s going on with my fucking life?”

the girl looks baffled, obviously taken aback by y/n’s tone. she should’ve know not to mess around with her,

“n-nothing! i mean i think-“

“don’t. nuh-uh. don’t think. don’t even try to sympathize with me.” y/n cuts her off, pointing her finger at the girl to shut her up.

the girl mutter a quick ‘sorry’ before going back to her business and chatting away with the other cheerleader. scooting a bit further to avoid her.

y/n feels like she’s going crazy if people kept doing that. it’s not like she’s dying or anything.

maybe on the inside, sure. because without eddie, her life feels so incomplete. call her corny but it’s true. her thoughts are consumed by him and she hates herself for it.

because he hurt her, bad. using her insecurity against her during a fight? a fucking low blow. she could take it if it was someone else who said it, but him? she never expected that to happen.

“babe, you do need that.” y/n’s friend maya pipes in, nudging her side. “maybe she’s right. you need to take your mind off of it for just one night. it doesn’t sound too bad”

y/n looks at her with her brows dipping in. “you’re taking pippi longstocking’s side?”

“bitch, I’m not taking anyone’s side! but i love you! and i hate to see you like this because, navy blue hoodie, really?” she looks down at her outfit. “it’s not you, babe.”

“ugh, can’t people stop commenting on that? i get it alright! but I can’t wear pink or purple if I’m not feeling it.”

“exactly!” maya exclaims, “you know how much i appreciate eddie but girl you have to stop sulking. sorry to say this but it’s quite pathetic to look at you. i cannot stand seeing you like this. come to the party with me, who knows you’ll start to feel like yourself again. even if it’s just for one night.”

“you said that” y/n replies with a cookie in her mouth. “shit this tastes so good! do you think they have it in peanut butter? might need it for protein.”

“y/n focus!” maya scolds, feeling slightly irritated at her best friend’s behavior. “please? you know booze and chips are your favorite”

she groans, throwing her head back. smacking the goey dessert down to her plate. “fine. you had me at chips. but there better be chamoy. or naan. otherwise clock me out.”

maya squeals, clapping her hands in excitement before giving her best friend a kiss on the cheek. to which she looks at her in disgust, wiping the kiss off. shooting her a ‘I’ll kill you if you do that again’ look

“you can count on me, sweetheart!”

y/n tries her best to give a convincing smile. and she wanted to not care so badly about eddie, but every now and then her eyes would wander around the halls and cafeteria. searching for that adorable and expressive boy with brown curls that made her fall in love.

she swears to herself that she wouldn’t let anyone treat her like shit anymore. even eddie advised that to her one night at the party where they first had conversation. so what changed?

was he getting sick of her? did brandon or kenneth came up to him and warn him about the crazy insecure bitch? or maybe he’s finally coming into his senses? that he needs someone who’s calm and collected. someone like chrissy cunningham or alexa berry from algebra.

it’s weird to be having this kind of feeling. she may appears to be tough and confident on the outside but most of the time, it’s solemnly for protection. no one wants to mess with you if you’re a bitch. and the best thing about that is no one will ever know if it’s real or fake.

see, she’s good at pretending and masking her insecurities. hence why she would never tell anyone her deepest secrets.

not being good enough.

and maybe that’s the truth. she’s not good enough for eddie. not good enough for brandon. because if she were then he wouldn’t have cheat on her, right?

good and healthy kind of love seem too far off for her now. maybe she will never be perfect for it.

+

tonight is supposed to be campaign night with the boys. dustin and the rest of the kids had prepared everything but eddie can’t seem to find the energy to do it, his heart isn’t in the right place at the moment. even if he did play, y/n is going to be on his mind during it. just like any other night.

obviously the boys prefer having their dungeon master there, and they thought about encouraging him to come despite everything that has been going on. however , one glare from eddie was all it takes to make them back away. it’s better to leave him alone.

and since they also would not appreciate the idea of postponing, eddie gave them a permission to do it without him.

he prefers to be alone right now. hiding at the comfort of his own bedroom, blasting on the mixtape y/n had given him while rolling up a joint. who would’ve thought that the jacksons 5 could make him cry like a baby?

“don’t you know… i sit around with my head hanging down and I wonder who’s lovin you…” he’s singing off key, choking on his own words when the last sentence hit,

he hopes no one is loving her like he does. as selfish as it sounds, he wants to be the only person who’s doing it. to treat her like she deserves to be treated, shower her with love and affections like no one has ever done.

but how the hell is he supposed to do that when she doesn’t even want to look at him anymore?

“well, you did it Munson. fucked up the only good thing that life has ever offered. hope you’re proud of yourself” he chuckles humorlessly, unscrewing the cap of his beer bottle before chugging it

his eyes snap towards the clock. it’s almost 1am and he curses to himself, realizing that he has been drowning himself in self pity for almost two hours, drinking and smoking alone.

maybe they’re right. all of those people who said that she’s too good for him were probably right on the money. why would he ever think that their relationship could last? she deserves to be seen with a golden boy. definitely not him.

someone like Jason Carver, Anthony Smith or Brandon.

fucking. Brandon.

as he about to crack open another beer under his bed, the sound of phone ringing from the living room suddenly startle him. he pays no mind to it and let the phone rings until it stops, because who in the right mind could be calling him at this hour? especially since it’s his house number.

no one has ever called his number in a million years. except the new divorcee that lives two trailers away.

“he really needs to stop giving numbers to women, man” eddie mutters, referring to his uncle.

few seconds after the phone dies down, it rings again. eddie screwed his eyes shut feeling slightly irritated that it had the nerve to interrupt his pity party. why can’t he just be left alone,

“alright, alright. jesus” he mutters, rising up to his feet before walking out of his room. taking long strides towards where the phone is, hand clasping around it to answer,

“Munson’s residence, how can i help you?” he holds the phone by the ear. slurring a bit over his words and burping after.

“eddie?”

his eyes widen and body stills when he recognizes who the voice belongs to. finding himself sobering up real quick as the alcohol in his systems slowly washing away.

“y/n-y/n? hi… what’s wrong, is everything okay?” his protective instincts immediately appears, detecting the tone in her voice, he assumes she’s in trouble.

he could hear the loud music over the phone. she’s probably at a party. and he doesn’t miss the sound of his girl screaming at someone to leave her alone if he doesn’t want his balls to get chopped. it almost makes him laugh, but he figures it’s not the time.

“i know I’m supposed to hate you right now but can you come pick me up please? I’m at Jason’s party and fuck, these people are scaring me. i-i think they’re doing…what my dad was doing” she trembles, frowning at the sight of kids swallowing pills and inhaling white powder.

eddie tenses. knowing exactly what she’s talking about. he nods quickly although she can’t see him, heart breaking and the worry grows after hearing how frightened she is. especially when he’s not there to protect her.

“okay, baby. just sit tight and touch nothing, all right? I’ll be there in 10 or less. i love you” he mentally slaps himself for letting the last sentence blurt out. hanging up before he gets to hear her response. embarrassment is the last thing he needs right now,

he sprints outside with keys in his hand, not bothering to write a note for his uncle since he’ll be working late. well it’s not like he’d read them anyway.

she is undoubtedly one tough woman. toughest one he has ever met. batshit crazy and unfiltered. but to be in a room where people do drugs and watch them get high off those things just bring so many bad memories revolving around her dad.

he could imagine her face right now and the anxiety seeping in being around those people. even he hates it. his brain is now filled with images of his girl being vulnerable, possibly hiding herself out from the party. that drives him to keep punching the gas, not wanting to hit the brakes. and he’s probably going over the speed limit. he doesn’t care though

eddie has never been a wreck less driver. never was and never will be, but y/n is the only thing important to him right now.

-

breaking this down to three parts so we can focus more on y/n and eddie trying to fix things up on the next one:)

pt 3

tagging: @littlemiss-yeehaw @lacrymosa-24 @godsfavoritegirlll

#eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x mean!cheerleader #eddie things #eddie munson blurbs

[from-the-clouds]

texas sun - joel miller x f!reader - vol. viii

series masterlist | series playlist | writing masterlist | previous chapter |

chapter summary: Both you and Joel feel there is no use in keeping secrets anymore. pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader words: 5.4k chapter warnings: SMUT, 18+ ONLY. References to absent/abusive parents, alcohol and marijuana mention. A little angst but mostly fluff. As always please dm if you have questions. a/n: If you got notified I posted this at 3am accidentally, no you didn't. this isn’t even a long chapter but i fought with it so much because i was terrified it wouldn’t live up to the hype. Like….everything has been building to this one and I don’t know if it feels right. I love crippling self-doubt. I love being insane! I’m fine. 

-July 9, 2003-

Joel is falling in love. 

He doesn’t know it yet. That’s how love works, right? No one can really pinpoint the exact moment it happens. Most of the time, it’s recognized in hindsight.

What he does know is that you love Sarah. Do you love him? He’s not sure yet. Right now, it almost doesn’t matter. Of course you would love her first. He imagines – he knows – how easy it is to love her. So, he can’t fault you for that. And it’s all that matters. Every other relationship he’s been in has lacked this one critical element. Including his relationship with her own mother. 

Now, he feels there is no use in keeping secrets. He can trust you. He knows Sarah likes you. It all makes sense. 

But he is worried about you. It’s been a few days since the fair, and he hasn’t heard from you. He had seen something from you that so rarely surfaced. Vulnerability. As much as you had tried to hide it behind clenched fists and a sharp tongue – you had been scared. Not just in the moment, but after. Scared to show any weakness, scared to let him in. Maybe you were ashamed, and maybe he’d pushed you too far afterwards. But all he wants is for you to realize that with him, you are safe. 

Joel gets out of his truck and slams the door shut, looking over at your house out of habit. The blinds are shut, your garage closed. It’s six o’clock. He’s home earlier than usual, but he’s used to a different view. Front door hanging open, with warm light beckoning through sheer curtains. He has stood in this very spot and watched Sarah from a distance as she comes back home, the sounds of your combined laughter reaching his ears even from across the street. Where have you been? He wonders. 

Once he’s inside, he doesn’t bother getting too comfortable. Sarah’s at a pool party, and he has to pick her up within the hour. It’s not enough time for him to bother with showering, but he does make himself a peanut butter sandwich for dinner. All that’s left of the loaf is the two end pieces. He needs to go to the store. 

He sits at the kitchen table to eat. Sarah’s only gone for the day, but he wonders why his house feels so big and empty without her. For two weeks she had been away at camp, and he hadn’t felt this lonely. It takes him a moment to realize it’s because he had spent all his time with you. 

The sound of the phone ringing interrupts his sulking, and he answers without checking the caller ID. It’s probably a vendor. Another delayed shipment. “This is Joel.” 

“Hey, Joel.” It’s you. 

“Hey,” Even though you aren’t physically here, he straightens up, wipes his mouth with the paper towel he’s using as a napkin. “How’s it going?”

“I’m good,” you say, your voice sounds….light. Normal. He hears phones ringing in the background. “How are you? How is Sarah doing?”

“I’m good,” he says. “And she’s good.”

“I’m glad,” you begin. “Listen, I uh, I feel like I’ve been MIA the last few days. Work’s been crazy, I’m actually still at the office right now. But I wanted to call you….I’ve uh….I’ve missed hearing your voice.”

Joel feels his shoulders sag in relief. “I missed hearin’ yours.”

You hum softly. “Are you around this weekend? I’d like to see you.”

“I’d like that.” Joel sighs. “I’ll be around. I could make you dinner.”

You don’t answer right away. Joel strains to hear, but all he can make out is keyboards clacking faintly in the distance. “Can….can you make dinner? Like physically. Is that possible?”

Joel looks down at his half-eaten, all-crust peanut butter sandwich. It’s not a very good indicator of his abilities. Maybe you’re right. Nevertheless. “I’ll have you know, I make a mean macaroni and cheese.”

“If it’s from a box, that doesn’t count.”

‘It should, though,” Joel defends. “That’s basically all Sarah and I eat.” 

“Oh, god,” you laugh. “Have you had your blood tested for nutritional deficiencies? Because I’m concerned for your health.” 

“Yeah, actually, I have and I got an A…plus.”

The line is silent again for much longer. Joel thinks the call might’ve dropped, so he says your name. “Hello?”

“Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Of course I’m joking.”

You giggle. “Okay, just making sure,”  you sigh, then add. “We have the same blood type.”

“Guess that’s serendipity,” Joel says. 

“Well, I think you’ve made me go soft….“ you groan. “But I’ll eat your boxed macaroni and cheese if it makes you happy.” 

“It will.” 

Joel leaves the conversation feeling reassured. Truthfully, he’s not sure what he’d call you, if someone asked. He’s never asked you to be his girlfriend, but he knew you were only seeing each other. There had been that other guy, whose name he didn’t care to remember, but Joel had asked you about him in a moment of weakness while Sarah was away at camp, and you hadn’t hesitated. There’s no one else. It’s just you. A confession whispered while you were laid bare and pliant beneath him, his hand resting lightly, but still possessively – over your throat. 

This dinner is reasonably the next step. It’ll be a good opportunity to let you know he’s going to tell Sarah. To make sure you are on the same page. And then he can sit down with her and have the talk alone. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Hey Dad, can I ask you something?” 

It’s later in the evening, and Joel is mindlessly flipping through channels on the TV when Sarah enters the living room from the kitchen. She stands with her hands clasped, shifting from foot to foot. Noticing her body language, he leans forward and hits the mute button. 

“Yeah, what’s going on, babygirl?” 

“Before camp….you went on a couple dates. Are you still seein’…whoever that was?”

Joel hesitates a minute. This is a conversation they’ve only ever had a handful of times before, but rarely initiated by Sarah. “Uh, yeah…sweetheart but uh….it’s been a little. We’re both busy people.” 

Sarah studies him for a moment, and it’s hard to recognize the look in her eyes. “What makes you ask?” Joel prompts. 

“Just curious,” she shrugs. “You uhm…you seem…happier. More relaxed.”

Joel’s face feels warm. “Yeah, she’s….she’s pretty great.” 

“Will I get to meet her?”

You already have, he wants to say. And he should just tell her now. Get it out of the way. But if he tells her the truth without letting you know first, it feels like it will make the already messy situation even messier. “Eventually,” he nods. 

“Cool,” His daughter smiles at him, but he sees the way her shoulders remain slumped. Sarah crosses the room to sit next to him on the couch. “Can we watch a movie?” she changes the subject.

“Sure,” Joel gets up to look at their collection of DVDs, thumbing over them and listing off some of her favorites. “Let’s see….Scooby Doo, Bend It Like Beckham, Clueless….” When she doesn’t answer right away, Joel looks over his shoulder to see her curled up,  head turned to stare out the front window. “Sarah? Any of those sound good?”

“What?” she turns back towards him. “Bend It Like Beckham? I haven’t watched that in awhile.”

Joel pulls the movie from the shelf and puts it in the DVD player. When he sits back on the couch she lies down and puts her head on his knee. He knows she’ll be out within minutes.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

-July 11,2003-

Standing on the front porch of Joel’s house, you realize you feel more calm in this moment than you have all week – and you haven’t even seen him yet. The prospect of spending time with him alone is enough. 

You don’t even need to fake your smile as the door wins open – it happens on its own accord. But as soon as it comes, it falls away when you are met with – 

“Sarah?” 

It’s her name, but it sort of sounds like it’s a question. You force the smile back onto your face because looking shocked is the opposite of what you want to do. Where is Joel? Are you early? Incredibly, incredibly late? Your heart rate picks up, as you rack your brain for something to say. Some kind of excuse, some kind of explanation. 

“Uhm…I uh, I was wondering if I could uh, borrow a….drill? I’m uh….assuming your dad has one, right? I have this picture….that I’m hanging.”

“Oh yeah,” Sarah nods, lets you step inside, but she only backs up a few steps, and stays facing you. Her chin tilts, giving you a once-over. It’s then you remember what you look like. You’ve styled your hair, you’ve put on makeup. She crosses her arms. ”You look pretty.”

“Oh, thanks,” you nod. “So do you.”

“Are you goin’ somewhere after you hang your picture?”

You shrug, like you don’t know what she’s getting at, and then shake your head. “Maybe.”

Her eyes narrow, but her lips curve up just a little. 

“It’s you, isn’t it?” 

“I’m sorry…” you play dumb. “What?”

“My dad’s date. It’s you.”

The thing is, you’ve been so tied up in keeping the secret from Sarah, and feeling guilty about keeping the secret from her, that you haven’t really thought of what could happen when she found out. And when you did, the idea of the worst case scenario – her rejection, made you feel sick to your stomach. 

Directly in front of her, she looks at you dead-on. Everyone has a different definition of what lying is. Deflecting, dismissing, are fine in your eyes but….denying? Especially when the question being asked is so….direct? That would be lying. And sure, you’re not even above that sometimes. But you can't lie to Sarah, regardless of the consequences.

You take a deep breath. “Look, Sarah I wanted to tell you, but-”

“Oh my god, I knew it!” she punches your arm at first. You reach to quell the ache it leaves behind, but before you can, she throws her arms around your neck and squeezes you tightly. 

“Thank God it’s you.” Slowly, your arms raise to return the hug, but you’re really at a loss of words. Her voice is muffled against the shoulder of your shirt. “I’ve never wanted to be right about something so bad in my life.”

“Sarah,” you hear Joel’s voice call from upstairs, and she pulls back. “Is that you I hear downstairs? I thought Emily was supposed to pick you up a half hour ago!” 

Sarah keeps her eyes on you, grinning widely as she answers. “She’s running late.”

“Well, babygirl, I’ve gotta-” Joel’s footsteps pause on the landing, and you look up to see him staring at you both. He looks like a deer trapped in headlights, and you see his expression shift through every possible emotion – concerned, fearful, regretful, apologetic, but by the time Sarah turns to face him with her arms crossed, it’s gone blank.

“Is there something you want to tell me, Dad?”

Joel looks at you, as if you can somehow get him out of this situation. All you have to do is raise your eyebrows. She knows. He rolls his shoulders back and looks up at the ceiling, taking a deep inhale, then drops his gaze to his daughter. “I was gonna tell you soon. Probably later tonight I had to talk to-” he gestures to you, then pinches his temples. 

“I knew it,” she repeats herself.

Joel makes a skeptical face, easing the rest of the way down the stairs. “No you didn’t.” 

“No, I did,” she smiles. “I always thought you had a crush or somethin’, and then I saw the way you were looking at her last weekend, and you were so weird yesterday when I brought up the fact that you were going on dates, and you’ve kept the house way too clean, and-”

“Okay, fine!” Joel cuts her off, and you see his cheeks flush slightly, like he’s embarrassed. “You knew it. I believe you.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me,” Sarah elbows you.

“I asked her not to,” Joel defends. “We were figuring things out.” 

She backs down, then looks between you. 

“Everything good?” Joel asks. “Everyone happy?” 

Sarah nods, then grins. “Good.” Joel wraps an arm across each of your shoulders and pulls you against his chest. Then he plants a kiss on the top of both of your heads. 

Outside, a car horn honks. 

“That’s Emily,” Sarah mumbles, her cheek smushed up against Joel’s bicep, and he loosens his grip, but still keeps you both close. “Will you be here when I get home?” Sarah asks, looking at you.

“I can be.” 

“When’s curfew?” Joel asks. A test. 

“Ten-thirty,” Sarah says confidently. 

“Good,” he says, patting her shoulder. “Have fun. We’ll see you when you get home.”

Sarah grins and gives you one more quick hug before bounding outside. Both you and Joel watch her get into the car through his screen door. You turn to him first after the car backs out of the driveway. 

“Well,” you cluck your tongue. “So much for sneaking around.” 

“I’m so sorry,” Joel covers his face with his hands and groans. “You don’t understand. I had this whole plan tonight to cook you dinner and talk to you about this. I wanted to see if it was okay before I told her but I had no idea her friend was running late and I should’ve-”

“Joel,” you interrupt.

“I just wanted to do one thing right.”

“Joel,” you repeat his name, reach out and put a hand on his arm. “Best laid plans. It’s alright. Really.” 

“You’re not mad?”

You shake your head vehemently, give him a gentle smile. He pulls you back against him and kisses you tenderly, hands on either side of your face. “I’m just glad she’s not mad,” you confess. “I thought she’d hate me once she found out.”

“I knew she wouldn’t.” He chuckles. “She loves you.”

If he had known she wouldn’t be upset, you wonder why Joel would want you to keep it a secret? What revelation did he have that suddenly made him okay with it? Maybe he’s trying to tell you something right now. Without saying it. So do I. 

Before the kiss gets too heated, Joel pulls away. You’re led into the kitchen, where he pours you both glasses of chilled white wine, and you sit at the counter, chatting with him about his day while he cooks you chicken alfredo.

“I felt like if I was going to talk to you about this….kind of serious thing, we shouldn’t be eating a meal made primarily for college students and five-year-olds,” he explains. There’s a piece of hair falling onto his forehead. You gravitate closer to him, sipping your wine and leaning back against the counter to study him carefully.  

“Dang,” you reach out, pushing his hair back away from his face. “This whole week I kept seeing traffic cones and craving boxed macaroni.”

“Well you might still get to eat it,” he laughs. “Because I have no idea how this is gonna turn out.”

“I’m sure it will be alright,” you assure him. “Thanks for taking such good care of me.” He gives you a sweet smile in response, and you relish in it – press your cheek against his shoulder, and hold it there for a moment, looking down with him at the stovetop.

It’s a milestone, of sorts. Sarah knows about you. And from everything Joel’s told you, not everyone he is with gets that privilege. Even if he’s asked you for nothing else, this means something. To him, and now to you in turn. There’s a version of yourself from not long ago that might’ve run for the hills at the implication. But you’re tired of running. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

-August 14th, 2003-

You’re roused awake by the feeling of the mattress dipping beneath the weight of another body next to yours.  Being the light sleeper that you are, you get bits and pieces of the unfamiliar room you are in through bleary eyes. And it’s cold. Somewhere during the night, you'd kicked off the fluffy duvet and comforter, and now you’re completely nude underneath nothing but a sheet. 

“You still sleepin’?” It’s Joel. Even though sleep still obscures most of your base-level functioning, you recognize his low, easy drawl. He tugs on the thin layer of fabric that covers your body. Your fingers curl, fisting into the gauzy fabric tucked under your chin. 

“Please don’t,” you croak out, shivering. “I’m freezing.” 

Joel tuts lightly, and slides under the covers to join you. His skin is slightly damp against your own – he’s just gotten back from his morning run. With anyone else, you’d be disgusted, maybe even snap at them for soiling the sheets. But somehow, he smells fucking incredible like this – all salt and sweat, and so warm. 

Pressed against him, you thaw. His hand slides over the dip in your waist, paws at your thighs. “Joel,” you whisper, but it’s not at all a protest. You’re used to this, all handsy in the morning and especially after he works out. 

“I need you,” he murmurs into your ear and you feel him, already hard and grinding against the flesh of your ass.

You hum your affirmation, and that’s all it takes. Joel shifts behind you, probably pushing his shorts down, before lifting your thigh and lining himself up with your entrance. You groan at the feeling of him stretching you open. One of his hands clasps over your mouth, the other holds your hips in place as he drives himself as deep as he can go. You moan louder. 

“Shh, shh, baby,” he murmurs, voice still raspy from lust and sleep. “Don’t want to wake anyone else up.” 

Right. You aren’t alone. Tommy and Sarah’s rooms are just across the hall. The knotty pine walls of the cabin start to shift into focus. With this in mind, you do your best to stay quiet as Joel starts up a callous pace that you think for a second might be a little too aggressive, until the sound of his needy panting in your ear makes you reconsider. You can’t help yourself. 

That’s all this, being with Joel – is. You keep giving more and more of yourself over to him. You can’t stop, you don’t want to. It feels good, the surrender. However slow it may be.

Your body thrums to life before you know it, and then you’re overly sensitive and desperate in-kind, clenching around his length as he ruts into you. 

Joel’s hot mouth trails sloppy, wet kisses along your neck. “Always feels so good, pretty girl. Like you were fuckin’ made for me,” his words buzz against the shell of your ear, fall down where they break at the base of your spine, a hundred shards shattering upon impact. Whatever expletive that leaves you comes out, muffled by his palm. “Hard to stay quiet, huh?” 

It’s already too much. You’ve gotten sinfully wet within minutes. And when you grind back against him involuntarily, that pulls him farther forward. “Touch yourself, darlin’,” he commands. “Not gonna last long.” 

You can feel him throbbing, right on the brink, so you reach down to circle your clit with two fingers as Joel movements grow sloppy, and uncoordinated. The feeling of him spilling deep inside you is the catalyst for your own orgasm, and Joel manages a few more thrusts to work you through it, his grip tightening over your mouth to hold back the noise.

He doesn’t pull back right away, just strokes your hair and peppers kisses on your shoulders. You listen to his sweet nothings, and savor the thump of his heart against your back. 

“I should hire you as my personal alarm clock from now on,” you say, voice hoarse, once you catch your breath. You feel the evidence of what he’d done to you, and press your thighs together at the sensation.

Joel chuckles. “You wouldn’t have to pay me. I’d volunteer.”

“So selfless,” you quip, and he drags his nose up the middle of your back, dazed and content. “Okay,” you wriggle from his grip to sit up. If you don’t leave the bed now, you don’t think you will ever find the strength again. “I need to shower.” 

“Can I join you?”

“Sure,” you say. “But you’re not allowed to distract me.”

“We’ll see about that…” Joel tickles your waist. 

“Joel,” you say, sternly. “I have shit I want to do.”

“Oh, really?” he seems unconvinced. “You’re finding tasks on vacation?”

“I wouldn’t call them tasks,” you explain. “But Sarah and I were gonna walk to that coffee shop in town.” 

“Coffee shop? Without me?” 

“I mean….last night you and Tommy promised to make breakfast,” you ruffle his hair affectionately, and he wrinkles his nose. “So I think we’re expecting it. But I’ll bring something home for you.” 

Joel grins, and pulls you in for another kiss before letting you retreat first to the bathroom, before following after you dutifully. 

He had driven the four of you a couple hours to some wildlife reserve you’d never heard of for a long weekend before Sarah went back to school at the end of the month. It’s your first trip together, and while you were excited to get out of the suburbs, it was a far cry from the vacations you had been used to growing up, and renting out a cabin had been a compromise, instead of straight-up camping. 

Still, you make the most of it. You and Sarah walk to the lake, and lay out on towels reading books and laughing until the sun dries out your skin. Tommy tries to teach you both to fish, but you’re too grossed out to touch the nightcrawlers he buys so you can’t even bait the hook. Joel takes you hiking and Sarah nearly breaks her foot trying to climb a tree. In her defense, you tell Joel it looked very climbable. 

Sarah demands to do a photoshoot when she finds the digital camera you brought, much to Joel’s dismay. He grumbles under his breath and rolls his eyes when you pick pink wildflowers and tuck them in his curls, then behind his ears, before you and Sarah do the same for each other. You snap portraits of each other – you and Sarah, then Sarah and Joel, then Tommy and Joel, and so on. 

When you get the pictures developed, and you see the photo on the top of the stack, you nearly return them, thinking there’d been a mistake. It’s one Sarah took of you and Joel. He’s kissing your cheek, arms encircling you, and you’re laughing so hard that your eyes are closed. The woman in the photo doesn’t look like you….she’s so happy.

Each night of the trip, you take turns on dinner duty – usually something that involves a grill. And the dad in Joel cannot help but hover around whoever is the chef, giving them pointers until he ends up taking over the meal entirely. The weed you brought mysteriously disappears one night after Tommy’s leaves to ‘go for a walk’, and you make s’mores over a fire. It’s so normal.

On your last night, you lay on the hammock next to Sarah, the mosquitoes unable to penetrate the protective circle of citronella candles and incense you’ve surrounded yourselves with. The cool breeze rustling through the trees is a reprieve from the unforgiving heat and humidity of the day. You’re making progress on The Da Vinci Code, even though Sarah is reading The Hobbit and periodically interrupting you to ask questions. 

The back door slams and you hear shoes approach, crunching over gravel. “Hey girls,” Joel stands over you with his hands on his hips. He gives the hammock a push that sends it into motion, swinging back and forth gently. You laugh, but Sarah wrinkles her nose, clearly disturbed by the movement. “Room for one more?” 

“No,” Sarah lifts her arm to try to keep him from climbing beside her. “Get a chair.”

Joel huffs, but doesn’t argue, pulling up the folding chair to sit next to you both. “It’s a nice night, ain’t it?” 

“Yeah,” you answer. Sarah puts the book closer to her face, gives a mumbled yes.

“Sarah, honey, have you enjoyed yourself?” 

“Did you not bring something to read out here?”

“No, I thought I’d come talk with you both because I was gettin’ bored all alone.” 

“Maybe you should go get your guitar,” Sarah suggests. 

“Where’d Tommy go?” you ask. 

“Met some girl who’s stayin’ two doors down,” Joel raises an eyebrow at you. 

You shake your head. “Incredible.” 

The night is loud, but ambient, crickets chirping. “It’s definitely starting to get dark earlier,” Joel observes. 

Sarah lets out a long sigh at that, shuts her book with a satisfying snap, and shifts to sit up. “I’m going inside.” 

“You don’t have to go, babygirl,” Joel reaches to steady the hammock and keep you from flipping out of it. 

“I’m tired,” she says. “And I gotta pack my stuff up.” 

“Do you want me to-”

“No, please, Dad, just…let me be.” 

Joel frowns, and he stares at her dejectedly as the door slams shut. He turns back to you. “Did I do something wrong?” 

You smirk, shake your head. “End of summer blues.” 

“Should I talk to her?”

“Maybe give her some time….check in later.” 

Joel sighs, stands from his chair, and takes Sarah’s place next to you on the hammock with incredible grace, considering the task. Smooth motherfucker, you think to yourself. 

“Tell me how you know more about parenting than I do?” he asks, rolling onto his side and propping himself on an elbow. “Sometimes I feel like you’re better at it.” 

To be fair, Sarah had been hinting at it all week, but you didn’t want to pry until she said it outright. Plus, it’s a familiar feeling. “I guess it helps that I was once a teenage girl. I used to get angsty before school started up every year.”

“How’d your dad handle it?” You realize that Joel is asking the question completely innocently, without thinking, but the second it leaves his mouth he realizes his mistake, and you can see the apology written in his features. 

It’s nothing, you shake your head. “Do you…” you trail off. “Do you want to know?”

Joel nods carefully. 

“Well,” you bite your lower lip. “He didn’t really handle it at all. I didn’t like being sent away. The one time I came to him in tears over it, he told me to quit being a crybaby and sent me to my room. So after that, I just never bothered him about it again.” 

Almost twenty years ago, but it’s like you’re there, in the dim light of your bedroom, biting on a corner of a frilly pink throw pillow and not bothering to wipe the tears that track down your cheeks and stain the embroidery. It wasn’t the first time. And it wouldn’t be the last.

“How old were you?” Joel asks. 

“I don’t know,” You pick at the corner of your book, avoiding his eyes. “Younger than Sarah. Nine or ten?” 

You wait for Joel’s expression to shift to one of pity. But it never does. There’s only something steely in his gaze. He winds an arm around your waist and brings you up against him. “I’m sorry.”  

“It’s okay,” you assure him, because it wouldn’t be opening up if you didn’t feel the need to immediately downplay everything you had said. “My brother ended up sneaking me out and taking me to get a milkshake.” 

“I’m glad he was there.”

“Me too,” you nod. “He was- is a good brother. Things are just….complicated now that we’re older.”

“I know that feeling,” Joel strokes your hair, runs his hand up the side of your waist absentmindedly. You find his quiet empathy – the space he holds for you – incredibly rewarding. That wasn’t so bad.

After the moment passes, he tugs on the collar of the flannel you’re wearing over a tank top. “This my shirt?” he asks. You nod, give a cautious smile. 

“Hope it’s okay,” you said. “I was cold. I didn’t think it’d get this cold at night.”

“It’s more than okay,” he mumbles, nosing past your hair and pressing his lips to your throat. You shiver. “You always look so pretty. But being out in nature really suits you.”

“Okay,” you say sarcastically, and don’t believe him for a second.

“You should really let me take you camping sometime. Proper camping,” he continues. 

“Joel, we talked about this,” you recall the conversations leading up to this trip. “If I am not within walking distance of an actual shower, I will die.” 

Joel laughs. “I’m not being dramatic. It would kill me.” 

“Don’t say that,” Joel scolds. “You’d be fine.”

“I’m not built like you. I’m a City Girl.”

“You’re not at all curious about the idea of having sex in a tent?”

“We have sex in a bed just fine. Why do we need to do it in a tent? Wouldn’t that just make it worse?”

“It’s a change of scenery.” 

“Okay so if that’s all it is, just hang a different picture in your room or something.”

Joel laughs again. 

“Look, I’m open minded about a lot of things, but if you took me camping, properly, out in the wilderness, you would hate me by the end of it.” 

“I don’t think that’s possible,” Joel answers. “I bet I’d still think I’m a pretty lucky guy.” 

You roll your eyes, pick your book back up and scan the pages, none of the words hitting. “You have too much faith in me. Truly.” 

“I’m serious,” he mumbles, hand under your chin. “Look at me, just let me sweet talk you for a second, alright?” 

Sighing, you let the book fall on your chest and clasp your fingers over it, turning to face him. “You’re so good. To me, to Sarah. Even to Tommy, although that’s not very important,” he smirks at his joke, almost like his brother could hear him. Quickly, he focuses back on you. “You fit in so well, and you don’t even have to try. I’m just so….happy.” 

Joel isn’t a poet or anything, but it’s one of the sweetest things anyone’s ever said to you. And it means more since it’s from him. You give him a gentle smile. “Me too.” 

But before anything can settle, you’re made aware of the deep ache within you. All you’ve ever wanted, all your life, is to not feel like a burden. To be cared for, paid attention to, without having to do anything to earn it. Do you really deserve this? Him? Sarah? How long will it be before it gets taken away, like it always has.

You feel like a toddler. A shiny toy is being dangled in front of you, but the second you reach for it, acknowledge how much you want it, it’s pulled away. You’re so uncoordinated, you fall on your face.

“Are you with me?” Joel asks, and you realize you’ve been staring absentmindedly at your feet. You nod. “What’s on your mind?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“I do.” 

You scrape your top teeth together for a second. “I’m really happy. I am, Joel,” you promise him. “But for me, good things don’t usually last.”

Joel’s hand circles yours, brings it so it’s pressed against his heart. “This will.”

You chose to believe him.

------

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[working-dreamer]

The Person Within: An Analysis Of Professor Layton's Hidden Character Development

Spoilers for practically all of the Layton games!

Hershel Layton as a character is sometimes criticized outside of the fandom for having no personality other than his gentlemanly nature and taking the concept of enjoying puzzles to the extreme.

While I think this criticism shows a blatant misunderstanding to his character, I do think from a different angle that perspective makes Professor Layton more interesting.

Think about it. Most of his personality is taken from the tragedy of those around him. Randall was the one who was originally obsessed with archaeology and puzzles. Claire was the one who originally perceived Hershel as a gentleman (thus giving him the idea.) We don’t really see Layton take these aspects of his personality onto himself until tragedy strikes and these people are taken away from his life.

In the case of Randall's death, Hershel blamed himself for surviving and moved out of town because of his self-loathing and guilt. And when Claire disappeared Layton paused his studies for an unknown amount of time trying to find out what happened until he was beaten into a coma by a group of people associated with her death.

And yet instead of grieving like you’d normally expect from a person who lost his best friend and girlfriend, he internalized their interests and aspects of their personalities into himself. He wears their passions and dreams as his own to remember them. In a way, he’s always reminding himself that he couldn’t save them.

However one might wonder how Layton really feels about those things outside of his previous losses. Does Layton even enjoy archeology and puzzles? Or is it something he has grown to accept in his life simply because he is living out Randall’s dream? Does he feel like he has a choice in the matter?

I can easily imagine Layton having doubts deep within himself: Randall didn’t get to live and it’s my fault. His dreams should live on. I don’t deserve anything else.

Same with Claire. She saw him as a gentleman but he certainly didn’t feel like one after her disappearance if his memory of events is to be taken seriously. How long did it take for him to turn into the perfect gentleman? Especially if it's just a painful reminder of her loss?

It’s probably after waking up from his coma that he starts to really embrace the idea that he has to be the perfect gentleman because he knows he can never get her back. So all he can do is embrace what she thought of him before she died. So with all of this in mind is Layton’s gentlemanly persona genuine to who he is as a person? Or is it just a persona created in order to keep her memory alive?

Layton has kept the shadows of his lost loved ones close to his heart for years and probably would have always done so had he never gotten any closure. However, when Randall turned out to be alive Layton now has the opportunity to let go of that guilt. Claire came back in the future momentarily and Layton got to say goodbye. He no longer needs to keep their personal traits as his own.

So why does he still embody Randall's passion for archeology and puzzles and Claire's perspective that he's the perfect gentleman?

I think it's because Layton doesn't know who he is without these borrowed parts of his personality. Without those aspects that he adopted into himself… who is Hershel Layton? Deep down he is someone who has silently mourned his loved ones and repressed those emotions. And yet most of his life has been embodying said grief. It makes me wonder if Layton would ever look deep within himself and realize that he doesn’t have anything to claim as his own. His entire personality revolves around past guilt and trauma from people he loved and lost.

Shoot even his name isn’t his own! Hershel Layton was actually the name belonging to his brother and in a moment of sacrifice switched names so our Layton could be adopted. So our Layton loses the only family member he has left without even knowing who that is for the majority of his life!

So we have a man who feels guilt and remorse for the deaths of his best friend and his girlfriend so he doesn’t allow himself to develop his own interests and personality because he doesn’t feel like he deserves to be his own person. It's even implied that he believed for a time that he didn't deserve to be the one who survived the events that killed his best friend and girlfriend. And then adding to the fact that he never knew his real family so he most likely felt a different kind of loss by not knowing where he came from. All and all we find a man that feels alone and tries to make it right by embodying the traits of those he cared about.

We don’t get to see Layton develop his thoughts on all of this but we do see an interesting development later on. I’d like to think that Layton slowly began to heal after his adventures thanks to adopting Katrielle in the anime.

This is because, for the first time in Layton’s life, he had a family to look after. Someone who doesn't need a mystery-solving archeologist or a perfect gentleman detective. Someone who doesn't need the grand "Professor Layton." This little girl just needs someone to be her father and, while he tries his best, he doesn't really know how to do that.

Sure he had a familial relationship with Luke and Flora, but he never called himself their father. I don’t think he allowed himself that privilege because of all the self-loathing he had been dealing with before. When he adopts Kat it feels like it’s the first time we see Layton truly allowing himself to be a father figure. And yet he is still uncertain about if he should be the one in this role.

Layton feels like his adopted daughter should know where she came from (something he didn’t get to have) before he can start thinking of himself as a father. He’s scared that if he gets attached then it'll hurt worse when she eventually returns to her own family should she decide that is her wish. But if he finds her family first then he doesn’t have the go through that heartache. He wants to find them first so she can make an informed decision.

And he says this with the logic that he always had as “Professor Layton” with that calm and collected smile. Notice that he says "I want to solve this puzzle so that we can become a true family." He doesn't say "so that we will become a true family." It’s almost as if he is going to let Kat decide if she wants to stay with him or go back to her real parents and that choice will be up to her. However, it's somewhat implied that he already thinks that she would naturally choose her real parents if she had the opportunity.

Despite his wishes to be her father, he still seems to be internally preparing himself to say goodbye (hence why he disappeared for so long in the first place.) He just doesn’t want to get too close to another person only to lose them and suffer alone again.

It makes sense why he is distancing himself, but he’ll still solve the mystery. It's what “Professor Layton” would do and he’ll have to accept whatever happens once Kat learns the truth. He doubts that she would still see him as her dad if she could be with her real parents. He doesn't even know himself outside of the role of "Professor Layton" so how can he be a true father to her? She'll go away with her real family eventually anyway. Why would anyone choose him?

And yet when he sees her again Layton is surprised when she immediately cries out for him. She still calls him papa. She wants him to be her papa.

In a public display of overwhelming emotion, we see Layton openly weep for the first time. He is so overcome by these emotions and for once doesn't repress them. He's just so happy to see his daughter again (to truly call Kat his daughter again) and allows himself to fully express those feelings for perhaps the first time in decades.

If Layton from the original game trilogy saw himself like this he would have been mortified by this “un-gentlemanly” behavior. His mindset back then was that a gentleman never cries because he has trouble coming to terms with his emotions. He even chastised Luke in Unwound Future because “a gentleman never makes a scene in public.”

However, he was never a gentleman for himself. It was always for holding onto the guilt of losing his loved ones while trying to honor their memories at the same time. But he doesn’t have to hold himself to those impossible standards anymore. He no longer blames himself for their deaths, he found closure, and now he has found himself in a family who chooses to love him not because of those attributes “Professor Layton” embodied, but because she loves him for the person hidden under that persona. And that is enough for Layton to openly weep as he embraces his child.

I believe Kat's words here helped Layton more than she'll ever know.

So who is Hershel Layton if he’s not a gentleman or a fan of archeology?

The solution to that puzzle is really quite simple.

He is a caring person. And that’s all he ever needs to be.

#professor layton #professor hershel layton #hershel layton #layton #luke triton #flora layton #jean descole #claire foley #randall ascot #pl #katrielle layton #kat layton #lmj #miracle mask #unwound future #azran legacy #plvsaa #plvspw #professor layton vs phoenix wright #pl vs pw #pl vs aa #phoenix wright #professor layton analysis #layton anime #ace attorney #professor layton vs phoenix wright ace attorney #and THAT is what happens when I watch Puss and Boots the Last Wish #Pus' struggle with keeping up with the legend sounds eerily similar to how Layton carried himself after he lost his friends over the years #layton is a deep character doggone it

[cellias]

ok yes the “she met a pinecone’s fate” felt so mean and out of place with the empathetic Percy we see in the book’s narrative BUT !!

when rewatching the scene my attention was brought back to what annabeth says before that— “she fought valiantly and met a hero’s fate.” i remember thinking about how brainwashed (for lack of a better word) annabeth is. she respects the gods immensely at this point in her life, all she wants is for her mother to notice her, because that’s all she knows. her father let the emotional neglect go so far that she ran away at seven years old, and her mother only communicates with her a few times.

her idea of a hero is the willingness to self-sacrifice, and the bearing of tragedy in life, but this idea disregards the fact that had the gods been more attentive and present, thalia wouldn’t have had to do sacrifice her life. her concept of a hero’s fate ignores the unjust fact that thalia was only recognized by her father in death and is hyper-focused on the honor that it is to be given a god’s time of day. we also see annabeth holding the gods to a high esteem later in the episode when she argues with medusa in favor of the story that she’s heard rather than what the person who lived through it has to say. as well as when she tries to stop percy from sending medusa’s head to olympus.

this ties into percy’s “impertinent” behavior toward the gods. we know percy thinks the gods are fucked up, he shows it in the book and the series early on when he learns about them. he’s mad at poseidon and acknowledges that it’s his fault sally is gone, unprotected and seemingly unnoticed, and that percy is kinda left to fend for himself in a new world. in the series he prays to his mom instead of his father despite seeing the tribute the other kids give to their godly parents. he rejects that side of his parentage because he feels his mom is the only one who deserves the credit for his life. he says that the gods had been unfair to thalia in the book when he learns about her. he defends himself against the Zeus’s accusation by saying “‘i’m just a kid!’” i think that line is important, and especially what annabeth says about it later on, because it shows how different their mindsets are.

percy has been protected and loved by his mom his entire life up to this point. she’s tried to give him a good life, and that’s the root of his character. he realizes the incredulity of this entire situation because he has not been fighting to survive without the love and support of a parent since he was young. annabeth left her home at a young age, was left in dangerous conditions, and fought for her life when she was only 7, and she’s been training for war ever since. she’s surrounded by kids who went through the same thing, specifically luke and formerly thalia. in the series, annabeth takes the “I’m just a kid” claim and reveals she finds it naive and ignorant, because he’s a part of something bigger than him and that he needs to accept his fate. (again, she’s been preparing for this her whole life, he’s been thrust into it after losing his mom)

when percy hears this story from grover about three demigods on the run, two of them near his age when they went through it, he is hearing a story about three kids being ignored and left to fend for themselves by their parents. he’s already angry about the gods’ lack of interference and how normal it seems to be at camp. when he hears annabeth regard thalia and her ultimate fate as heroic and respectable, he doesn’t see it as the same. he finds thalia heroic and brave, but her fate not so much. annabeth’s admiration contrasts his questioning toward the gods. percy most likely found Zeus’s decision to finally notice his daughter by turning her into a tree as anything but heroic, more pathetic.

at least that’s how i interpret the “she met a pinecone’s fate” line. I think it adds to his reputation and growing disdain for the gods and their attitude. idk what do u guys think 😫

#not me writing this instead of doing my hw #pjo #percy jackson #pjo tv series #pjo tv show #annabeth chase #percy jackson and the olympians #grover underwood #thalia grace #celia speaks #…a lot #and I haven’t read the books in so long so if I got smth wrong sorry

[boots-with-the-fur-club]

The lore continues!!

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@phoebepheebsphibs

@littlemissartemisia

@daboyau

@foxolotlfreak

Karai and Mikey follow close behind April as she leads them to where she believes Leo is.

Mikey starts feeling nauseous at the fact that it’s so close to where he went missing.

“He’s been right here the whole time…..maybe if we had looked harder….I should have talked to my Gram-Gram! I wasted time!”

“You can open portals to your world? Why haven’t you done that already?” Karai questions.

Mikey looks down at the light coloring cracked across his arms. He knows fully well why he couldn’t do that specifically. He also knows that this Karai doesn’t realize he doesn’t mean that.

“It….it could kill me. Again.”

Karai’s brows furrow heavily.

“Excuse me?”

Mikey glances away awkwardly.

“L-Let’s just ignore that, for now. I’ll get the door open.”

“Just be careful, that hand could be anywhere.” April warns.

Mikey nods, summoning his chains as a precaution. He takes several steps towards the door April assures is the right one.

That’s when everyone notices the hand skittering across the floor nearby.

Mikey’s chain shoots out immediately and wraps tightly around it. He brings it over, allowing it to dangle in the air like meat on a hook. His eyes widen he sees that it’s holding something other than spores.

“That’s……Leo’s. You took his fidget toy. It….it was in his fanny pack. You’re the one who took the mushrooms. You made Leo think it was his fault.”

Karai senses the change in the air.

“Mikey! As much as you want your revenge, you must keep yourself from giving it what it wants.”

Mikey tightens his chains even further around the hand, eyes beginning to fill with orange light.

“What it wants? What about what we want? W-We could have had a fun time meeting other people, we could have finally relaxed for a little while! But we had to keep the spores alive and with us! Then this thing stole them and my brother! I-It’s not fair! What did we ever do to deserve this!?” He starts tearing up.

“You don’t deserve this! It’s not your fault, it’s that thing’s!” April insists.

Mikey’s chains start pulling on different parts of the hand.

“Then I’ll make sure it can never hurt us ever again!”

Although Karai and April are both all for this, something seems wrong. The hand always has too many tricks up its nonexistent sleeve.

That’s when April hears a click and release noise.

“Mikey! It’s a trap!”

Mikey snaps his attention to her and Karai before shoving them away with more chains. The two of them only have time to yell before spores explode in front of the door.

The distance and chains protect them, but Mikey is caught right in the majority of the blast.

He nearly coughs up a lung from how much he breathes in. Despite how bad this is he knows he needs to get to Leo. Keeping the chains around the hand, he tries to make his way to the door.

When his hands touch something solid he musters up all his strength and smashes his way through. This causes the spores that were trapped in the room to come out as well.

Mikey powers through anyways.

“Leo! Leo! Can you hear me!? I’m here!”

He soon finally sees a figure in the middle of all the thick particles in the air and rushes forward. Leo is there, laying on the ground.

He is not breathing.

Mikey takes his own deep breath.

“Y-You are alive, th-this is just th-the fear spores. I-I’ll get you out now, o-okay?” He doesn’t wait for an answer before picking up his brother.

He carefully makes his way back outside and to where Karai and April should be. Mikey knows they’re probably safe, but doubt creeps up into his mind when he sees them both sprawled out on the floor.

More tears come to his eyes.

“J-Just remember this isn’t real. Y-You’re seeing things. I-It’ll pass. G-Gram-Gram? April? Can you tell me everyone is okay?”

No answer.

Mikey can’t help but stare hard at the alternative Gram-Gram. She was just as nice and gentle and full of wisdom as his Gram-Gram. It stung a little bit that she couldn’t be alive in his universe too.

“P-Please just tell me that you’re okay. Th-That Leo isn’t…..that we saved Leo….”

Still no answer.

The body in front of him is tearing him apart inside. Karai is dead, not fully gone, but dead. Their lack of training killed her. They brought her out from the Twilight Realm and killed her. They released Shredder and killed her.

Did he….get this one killed too?

He shakes his head violently.

No! Stop being stupid already! You know this is fake! You can’t trust anything right now! Fight it!

“Leonardo has made his sacrifice like Hamato before him.”

Mikey shakily, slowly turns his head to the side.

Gram-Gram.

His Gram-Gram.

“No. She wouldn’t say that.” Mikey chokes out.

“I’m sorry, Michelangelo. He’s with us now. The other Karai and April are most likely with their world’s Hamato ancestors as well.”

“Stop it. Stop using her voice!”

“I wish I could tell you it isn’t true. I wish it had ended differently-“

Mikey punches her, breathing heavily.

He’s feeling the worst sense of déjà vu. He was losing it when he first got spored too. Back then he was scared and that made him force his family to confront everything.

He needs to calm down or else everything is going to fall apart again.

This isn’t him! He’s Dr. Positive! He cheers other people up and stops them from fighting!

Just breathe, breathe and move on.

“Mi….key….”

He quickly looks down.

“Leo! You are alive! Ohmigosh, I was so worried!”

“Too….late….”

“Wh-What?”

“R-Run…”

“No no no no, it’s not too late! I can help! I’ll fix you! Just like Donnie always does!”

Mikey holds Leo close and attempts to use his ninpo on him.

It’s not working.

At all.

“I-It….got Raph and Donnie too….s-save yourself, Mikey.”

Mikey stills.

“You’re lying. This isn’t real. G-Gram-Gram and April are going to snap me out of this.“

“I-It’s up to you, dad and April now. B-Be the coolest ninja you can be, Mikey.”

“Stop. Stop it. You….you freaky, creepy, dumb hand! You stupid spores! I’m not scared! I handled this! So stop already!”

Leo’s hand drops to his side and his eyes glaze over.

“I-I said….stop….” Mikey starts trembling.

Last time he was getting this way, he was just afraid of his brothers leaving.

Them dying is a whole other issue.

You can’t bring back someone from dying fully.

He doesn’t want to have to summon them.

They won’t be able to do all the things they said they’d do after they were fully healed up.

After this competition.

They lost, didn’t they?

So why are they even still here!?

Still suffering like this!?

If something brought them here then it should be responsible for fixing this! For bringing them home!

It’s not fair it’s not fair it’s not fair it’s not fair it’s not fair…..

Not fair.

Not fair!

“NOT FAIR!” He screams.

His lungs further get agitated by everything in the air, causing his cough to return viciously. It gets so bad that he has to place Leo on the ground and cover his mouth with his hands.

When he moves them away, there’s glowing, orange ninpo on them.

It’s not normal, though.

It feels like sludge.

Is…..is he dying?

The spores can do that?

They….they really killed everyone….?

Mikey starts chuckling.

Mikey starts laughing.

Mikey laughs too hard.

He stands up.

If this is how he’s going to go, then he’s going to take everything with him.

The hand watches once again from afar.

This too, is increasingly entertaining.

Watching Karai and April see the entire made it the real cherry on top.

The turtles that came from the same universe as the spores thought the worst case scenario was seeing and living through their fears.

They were so wrong.

What is truly, truly the most terrifying is knowing that enough fear can turn you into something you’re not.

Two down, two to go.

#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #2018 tmnt #no fun in fungus #rise of the tmnt #tmnt 2018 #rise fanfiction #rottmnt fanfiction #rise leo #rottmnt michelangelo #rise karai #rise april #until i found you #tw hallucinations #tw sibling death #tw death

[radiant-reid]

Eleventh Hour

Summary: Spencer's about to move across the country, until his ex-girlfriend gives him some news

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (angst then fluff)

Word Count: 2.1k

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This is not how it's supposed to go.

Or maybe it is.

College relationships are tricky, tumultuous, and the tangling of lives of two changing people. Although it makes her seem cliche, Y/n thought Spencer was different, and she would stick with that opinion to the end. He was wiser than any other college boy and more mature.

Whether they are the right people for each other or not, it's not the right time.

Their breakup wasn't sad, per se. They're both realists for the most part, and ending their relationship was on the horizon for a while. In the final semester of her senior year and Spencer's last semester of all his years of degree-collecting, their lives are about to go in such different ways that being together will cause more problems, making them sacrifice parts of their lives they don't want to.

So it's uncomplicated and much more pragmatic.

But a dangerous touch of hope comes with being a romantic. Those feelings make it hard to hand back each other's things, tell their friends and families, and sleep alone again.

Spencer's realism and romanticism work inversely, the former getting stronger as the latter gets weaker. It's why he never expected her to call.

Now he's sitting in front of her, frowning because something's really wrong. She hadn't looked so distraught when they broke up, but tears prick her eyes while her stomach threatens to evict her lunch.

"What's wrong?" He asks. He would never be able to stop caring about her, and he figures it would take a monster to not care about her after speaking to her just once. It could be about her mom or dad or a friend.

Y/n knew she had to tell him when she found out. Morally, it was the right thing to do, and Spencer deserves to know. Just because it was an easy choice to make doesn't make it easy to do. As soon as she tells him, everything changes between them again. They've gone from strangers to lovers to strangers, and now they're going to be something else. Whatever they're going to be, it's up to Spencer, and there's going to be very little she can do to change his mind about how he feels for her.

She keeps playing with her fingers in her lap, failing to reach the threshold of confidence needed to look at him. "This is... shit- I don't even know how to tell you this, Spence." She admits, heart pounding in her chest.

That makes Spencer even more puzzled. What could she really need to tell him a month post-breakup that was so life-changing. "It's okay." He assures her.

He's back to that old shyness she used to find endearing. She knows it because she can see his itching and resisting to touch her hand. "I'm pregnant." She confesses, biting her bottom lip.

"You're what?" He spits back.

Yeah, it was life-changing news. Earth-shattering.

He's spiraling like he never has before because, holy shit, it's news that he's never heard before. It's news he didn't expect to hear ever, honestly. And not from her, that's for sure.

"Pregnant." She repeats, so it'll sink in quicker. "And I'm sorry."

"It's not your...fault." He tells her, although he doesn't seem genuine.

There's upset in his features, and against her better judgment, she pushes it. "What are you thinking?"

"That I don't want a baby." He snaps, standing up as the realization hits him like a freight train.

It catches her off guard. Majorly. Spencer never, ever speaks to anyone in a tone that short, let alone her. And it makes her want to cry because she needs someone. She had hoped it would be him. Whether it's the new hormones or him being in front of her again, there's a longing for the connection they walked away from.

Her inner romantic wanted him to jump at the chance to have a baby with her, promise they could work things out, and the immense love she's been feeling for him wasn't one-sided.

"Y/n, I can't have a baby. I'm about to move across the country tomorrow." He declares.

It's categorically cold, just factual. That makes it the most heartbreaking.

She actually can't believe what she's hearing. They're young and not together, but she thought he might care a little bit more about the baby that's 50% him and growing inside her. Maybe he isn't as different as she hoped.

"That's why you broke up with me?" She asks, tears clouding her vision.

He doesn't do what she expects, and she's starting to think it's downright stupid that she ever thought he'd wrap his arms around her until she stopped crying. And why is she crying all the goddamn time now?

"Don't do that." He says sternly. "It was mutual."

"It's not now." She informs him, wiping up her tears angrily.

Spencer stops for a moment, taking a breath to avoid saying something he can't take back, something that might ruin his chance at ever getting to meet his child.

"We can't get back together just because we're having a baby." He reminds her. "You have to know that."

Y/n bites her lip, nodding. "Yeah. So this is just me telling you. We can forget everything else."

He's not sure he wants to do that now that she's being so upfront about it, but he's not going to be that contradictory. "Thanks." He whispers. "Whatever you need, let me know. Not that-"

She cuts him off, getting up from the couch and opening the door. One thing- along with the fact he doesn't want to be part of their lives- that she didn't want to hear about is him pledging money, thinking it's the same thing as love or time. "I know." She says, somehow able to get her following words out without crying. "Call me if you ever want to meet an adorable baby."

That makes it real, and his stomach flips in a new but not terrible way. Once she shuts the door on him, he stands there on her apartment step for a whole minute, wondering if he should go back and fix the fuck-up he's just created.

There's not much more crying Y/n can do. She's got a plan, a job lined up for once she gets a degree, and friends who love her. Her baby won't have a dad, though, because she'll never be able to love and trust someone like she does Spencer.

~

Unless someone has taken Spencer's phone, he's calling her early that morning. Something compels her to answer. "This isn't sending the right message." She answers the call, joking to relieve the tension from her major confession less than 12 hours ago.

"I need to send a different message." He confesses, confusing her. She's not going to let herself believe it's good until there's no doubt. "Can you meet me?"

"On this coast." She agrees. It's for her baby, she reminds herself. A baby who deserves a dad, even if he breaks their mom's heart.

"My apartment?" He suggests.

She sighs, resisting the urge to sob about the place she used to spend so much time at. "I can't. Not when your stuff is packed up."

"Some of it's yours." He tells her. "But I can come to you."

That's worse, she decides. She can't have a replay of last night. His apartment will look generic without any mementos in it.

"No, I'll come to you." She decides. "Soon?"

"Whenever you're ready." He assures her, bouncing his knees up and down nervously.

She's not sure what she's doing, and she knows she's dumb for fixing her hair and putting on makeup, but she does it anyway. Then she's out the door before she can rethink her poor decision.

"Coffee?" Spencer offers once she walks in and takes off her shoes.

The walls are bare, and there are no books in the bookcase. It's not Spencer at all which doesn't make her feel better.

Y/n shakes her head. "I can't."

"Fuck, right. Sorry." He stammers out his words. "Do you want to sit?"

She doesn't know what she's doing there, so she nods, sitting down on a couch they'd fucked on so many times it wasn't appropriate. He doesn't follow suit. "Why am I here, Spencer?" She asks.

He snaps out of the trance he's in. "Oh, yeah. Hold on." He requests, walking off before she can ask any more questions.

Every second he's away, she gets more and more in her head until that feeling of wanting to be sick is too overwhelming. "I, uh, should go, you know? I'm sure you've got stuff to do." She fails for an excuse, but she knows she has to get out of there before she's in tears on his couch, looking even more pathetic than she does now.

"Please." Spencer walks back into the room with a box. A box with yellow and white horizontal stripes on it that she's sure is new. "Can you just open this?"

"The person going away doesn't give the gift." She shakes her head, rejecting the gift. "Don't make this hard for me."

His heart breaks seeing her trying not to cry, the sweetest person he knows who thinks he's running away. "Please."

Those fucking puppy dog eyes. She takes the lid off the box cautiously because she's terrified and takes out the contents. A baby onesie with an FBI logo on it. It's the first onesie she's ever held, and it has her crying.

"What are you doing?" She asks between tears.

"Trying to stop making decisions that'll ruin my life." He tells her, sitting on the ottoman in front of her. "Like I did a month ago."

She frowns. "Yeah?"

"Oh my god, yes." He assures her, crying a little himself. He's feeling the pressure because he cannot mess this apology up. "Y/n, I should have fought to be with you because you're worth fighting for. You always will be. I shouldn't have let you go then, and I will do anything it takes for you to not walk now."

"You're not getting on a plane?" She recalls what he said before, safeguarding her heart.

He shakes his head. "Not today. And not ever if you don't want me to." He informs her.

She's honestly gobsmacked with so many questions in her mind and no idea what order to ask them. "I want this baby." She mumbles, unsure about if it's going to put him off.

"I'm terrified." He confesses. "My dad was... lousy, at best, so I don't know how to be a father, but I'll learn. I'll read every book there is." He promises. "I acted like an asshole, and I'm so sorry. I got that." He nods to the onesie she's gripping tightly. "Because I promise I will do anything to be in your and the baby's life."

"Is this a hint?" She wonders, reading over the logo.

Spencer chuckles, nodding. "Not very subtle." He admits. "I'm supposed to be going to live in DC and work at the Behavioural Analysis Unit in Quantico, but I'll quit before I even start to stay here if that's what you want to do."

She thinks it over for a moment, but the decision is pretty easy. Sure, Spencer can get a job anywhere with his brains and degrees, but he wants to help people. "Let's do it." She agrees, smile widening.

"Do what?" He asks, caught off guard.

"I can't be without you." She tells him, reaching out to touch his hand softly, testing the boundary. "I've tried, and it's the worst. I want you in my life. Let's move to DC."

"We don't have to." He reminds her quickly.

She shakes her head. "We can have a fresh start." She reminds him. "We're following these dreams together as a team."

Spencer leans forward to cup her cheeks, wiping up her tears. "I'll do anything to make it up to you." He promises.

"Pack my stuff." She jokes, feeling his breath on her face as he laughs with her.

"Can I kiss you now?" He asks desperately, earning a nod from Y/n. He dives in quickly, missing feeling so close to her. His lips are gentle on hers, like he's worried about breaking her. When he pulls back, he nods at the box. "Finish opening it." He suggests.

She does, crying a little again when she sees the teeny tiny converse and teddy bears. "This is perfect." She mumbles.

He beams at the praise and her. "You're perfect. I'm just lucky."

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[ilguna]

Can you do finnick with the number 13 ?

☼ too close (Finnick Odair) ☼

warnings; swearing,

wc; 2.6k

prompt; 13. fake engagement au

notes; made this a modern au as well. also, too close by alex clare was the first thing that popped in my head... but it’s not a songfic!!

--

At this point, you think that setting yourself on fire and standing still while the skin melts off your body would be less painful than the conversation you’re having with Finnick, Annie and her boyfriend, Rain. At least then, Finnick might pay attention to you.

In the past fifteen minutes, you don’t think he’s taken his eyes off of her once. He won’t even look in your direction when you speak. It’s like she’s the center of his room, all the time. You thought that when they broke up a year back, he’d change, figure out the world doesn’t revolve around her. 

He can find other things—other people to invest in.

You didn’t realize just how much he loved her, especially when he was so casual about it. He wasn’t compelled to spend every waking moment with her. They’d make plans, of course, but it wasn’t as frequent as it could’ve been. In fact, he spent more of his time with you.

It has something to do with how long the two of you have been friends. Ever since you’ve graduated high school, there’s never been a time where either of you have gone somewhere and the other didn’t follow. If there’s a pair of people on this dying planet that are attached at the hip, it’d be you two.

While you thought Finnick would be hurt when Annie broke up with him, you were under the impression that it wouldn’t bother him much. Not with how sparsely they’d been seeing each other in the weeks leading up to it. It was partially his fault, because he stopped making time with her, but that happened because she’d shoot down every attempt.

And then she did it. Finnick told you that she showed up at his apartment, on an evening where they’d planned to have dinner, wanting to talk. She started by telling Finnick that he was amazing, and the best boyfriend she could’ve asked for, but they didn’t share the same interests, and she needed someone who was more like her.

She wanted to see other people, and she couldn’t find herself committing her life to Finnick, knowing that they weren’t a perfect match. It was harsh, and brave of her. Personally, you think that it was a stupid decision, because they’d been together for over a year and a half. 

She didn’t give Finnick any room to talk, canceled the dinner, and left. 

The next time they saw each other, you were asked to be there as a mediator, per Annie’s request. It was a little odd, because she knows full well that you care more about Finnick than her. Though, over the time of them dating, you’ve grown to be better friends with her.

You felt a little bad for Finnick, but with how long you’ve been rooting for their downfall, it was like your prayers were answers. 

Finnick’s reaction to the whole ordeal took you off-guard. You knew that he’d need recovery time, you just thought that he’d bounce back after a month or so. That’s what he’s done with his girlfriends in the past, you had no reason to believe that this time would be different.

Well, she rocked his world, hard.

And it’s clear that it was selfish of you to think that you could pounce on him. That’s why you were punished about three months later. When Finnick came to you in the middle of the night, sobbing because Annie had announced a new relationship. It tore you to pieces, listening to his feelings, how he thought she didn’t wait long enough.

The next morning, you found him wide awake on your couch, eyes puffy, bags beneath them. You opened your mouth to ask him if he’d even slept, when he told you that he’d come up with a plan, and he needed your help.

He wanted to make Annie jealous enough to leave her new boyfriend, Rain. The issue is that she’d never had a problem with any of his girl friends before. Except you. He said that there had been a few times where she mentioned how she wished she had a better connection with him, like you have.

The more he spoke, the worse it got. And when he asked if you’d be his fiance, you couldn’t help the way you looked at him. It was nothing close to adoration, it was resentment, because you’ve dreamed of him asking you plenty of times before. In those fantasies, you were actually together because he loved you. Not because he couldn’t live without another girl.

You knew he was desperate, he’d mentioned it before. You never thought that he’d ask you to do something like this. You were sure it was a joke, one that you couldn’t bring yourself to laugh at because you were too stunned to move. When he looked at you and you saw the expression on his face, you realized that you’d given him more credit than he deserved. 

Finnick begged you for an hour straight, telling you that he couldn’t trust anyone else to do something like this for him. You’ve been best friends since you were teenagers, you knew that he wouldn’t ask you if it wasn’t important to him. When you didn’t agree by the time he left, he told you to think about it.

And it ate you up inside. Every last word of his. The look on his face. The years you’ve been waiting for an opportunity. And so, you stupidly thought to yourself, “Well, maybe this is how I get a foot in the door.”

You texted him later on the next day, thinking that this pretend engagement couldn’t possibly last longer than a month. If Annie had a scrap of love left for Finnick, and as much jealousy as he was saying she did, she’d come back. It wouldn’t be immediate, but she’d come and prove that he was still hers, even if they weren’t together.

When Finnick told Annie that he’d gotten engaged to you, after discovering a slumbering love, she had the opposite reaction than what you thought she would. The smile that spread over her face lit up her eyes, she was genuinely happy for the two of you.

You knew from that moment forward, it would be like swallowing poison everyday, because you’d have to lay it on thick in order to convince her. A part of you didn’t believe her happiness. It had been three months and a week since she and Finnick broke up, and you were suddenly engaged to him? With no prior mention of the two of you dating?

If you were her, you think you’d be more worried about him cheating the entire time, because that could explain the quick ring. Finnick thought of that, too, telling her that the two of you have been around each other so long that you skipped the dating stage.

Stupid.

You wanted to do this for him, though. You wanted to still be the person he could trust the most, afraid that he’d pull away if you denied this request.

And so long for sticking your foot in the door, because eight months later, he hasn’t shown an ounce of affection toward you. He’s stuck on Annie, and that’s where he’s going to stay, because she’s not budging, either.

“So, (Y/n), have you decided what season you want to get married in?” Annie asks, she’s got her eyebrows raised, looking at you between the pasta on her face.

You give her a smile, even though you’re growing tired of the questions about the wedding. You have to come up with reasonable answers that you’ll have to write down later to keep from forgetting. She’s caught you a few times. 

“We were thinking about spring.” You tell her, reaching over to place your hand on top of Finnick’s, trying to make it convincing. “Isn’t that right, Finn?”

Finnick turns his attention to you, finally, gazing into your eyes with a dimpled smile. If you didn’t know that this was for show, you’d say that there’s something more between you than just air.

“New love and all.” He murmurs, fixing your hands so he can hold yours to squeeze it.

A flurry of butterflies rise in your stomach, swirling around your heart.

“Spring?” Annie echoes, a little surprised. Despite wanting to stay here forever, you tear your eyes from his to look at her. “I’ve always said that’s the perfect season to have a wedding.”

I know, you want to tell her, because Finnick told me.

“Really?” You ask. “Well, I hope there’s no hard feelings if we use it first?” You ask.

“Of course not.” She waves her hand, “I wouldn’t want to come between the two of you.”

Finnick’s hand loosens around yours, something you were prepared for.

“I’m sorry, (Y/n),” Rain starts, “Is there any way we could take some of this home? It’s getting late.”

“Of course.” You slip your hand from Finnick’s, rising to your feet. “I have the rest in the kitchen, if you want to come and tell me how much you’d like.”

“That sounds amazing.” He nods, leaning over to press a kiss to Annie’s lips, before getting to his feet, too. 

You glance at Finnick, hoping that he’s looking at you. He’s not, his attention is completely set on Annie. You place a hand on his shoulder while you move around your chair, causing him to reach up to grab your fingers. Almost a natural reaction, if it wasn’t planned. 

You move your hand before he touches you, heading through the dining room doorway and into the kitchen. The stove is on the far side, the pots and pans still sitting on top. Rain follows behind you, you can hear his footsteps on the tile.

“I’m not really one for leftovers, so please take as much as you’d like.” You tell him, opening one of the bottom cabinets to grab a container. You sit it on the counter, as well as the lid.

“What about Finnick?” He asks, you shake your head, closing the door. “He’s got his own food, at his apartment.”

“That’s right.” Rain says, grabbing the noodle scooper, taking off the lid on the pot. “I forget that the two of you aren’t living together yet.”

“It’s because of his lease.” You shrug. “It’s coming to an end soon, though. We’ve agreed he’ll move into my place.”

Rain lets out a laugh. “I would too, honestly. You’ve got such a nice house. Your parents bought it, right?”

“Yup, and gifted it to me when I moved out here. I was supposed to share it with Finnick in college, but he wanted an apartment so it wouldn’t be weird when he brought girls around.” You tilt your head, looking off to the side.

“Now look at you two.” Rain smiles. “You’ll get to share it, after all.”

“Yeah.” You murmur.

Once he’s loaded the container, and promised that he’ll bring it back to you next week, you two join Annie and Finnick back in the dining room. The second you step inside, you can tell that there’s something goin on, but Rain must be oblivious, because goes to take his coat from the back of his chair.

“Well, thank you for the dinner, (Y/n).” Annie says, joining Rain. “I’m excited to see what you’ll cook next week.”

“If you have any requests, let me know.” You wink at her, she rolls her eyes.

Finnick walks them to the door, while you begin to pick up the plates from the table. You can hear the door shut, and that’s when the air begins to get heavy. With them no longer here, there’s no need to keep up the act. Which means that Finnick will go right back to talking about her.

“I think I had her for a moment.” Finnick says, coming in with armfuls of plates and glasses. “When you went into the kitchen, she told me that she missed me. That was a great idea, (Y/n).”

You bite your tongue, back turned to Finnick as you turn on the sink.

“At this rate, I think she’ll leave him soon. She told me that they’re not as happy as they look.” He sets the dishware next to the sink, pulling out the trash can to scrape away the waste. “I’ll get her back in my arms, soon.”

You lean over the sink, closing your eyes while you take deep breaths. An ache is forming in your throat, tears appearing in your eyes. You grit your teeth, trying to tell your body to knock it off, because now’s not the time to cry. You save it for when Finnick leaves.

This isn’t right, it’s not healthy to be doing this to yourself.

“Then we can go back to normal.” Finnick says, bumping you with his shoulder. “I owe you, (Y/n).”

You back off of the sink, reaching for the engagement ring that’s been passed around his family for generations. The one you thought that would one day belong to you. You grab his wrist, turning his hand over, and placing the ring in his palm. He looks down at it for a second, before at you.

“You know I don’t need this back, I trust you to keep it safe.”

“I can’t do this anymore.” You tell him, throat closing in.

His eyebrows twitch. “No, (Y/n), we’re almost there. Just a few more weeks—”

“I don’t have a few more weeks in me, Finnick! It’s killing me!” You burst, throwing a couple plates into the sink. You shut off the water, walking out of the kitchen, shaking your head. “I just—when I agreed to do this, I thought, ‘this won’t be so bad’. I thought this couldn’t last more than a month, yet here we are, still going.”

“I told you it’d take time.” Finnick says, following after you.

You lead him to the front door, stopping next to it, hand on the handle. “I thought my feelings for you would go away if I gave myself a taste of what I could have.” You admit, Finnick’s face drops, skin paling. “It’s fucking ruined me. I can’t do this with you anymore, because you don’t love me. And I want to throw up my heart each time I see you look at her like that.”

You open the front door, shoving it open. A fall breeze blows through, pushing a few golden leaves into your house.

“(Y/n), why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because it’s written all over you.” You motion at him. “You love Annie, and there’s nothing that I’ve done in the past eight months that have made you change your mind.” 

Finnick stares at you, shaking his head.

“Go.”

“If I leave right now, you won’t talk to me ever again.” Finnick tells you. “You said that nothing would change between us if you did this for me. You said it wouldn’t ruin our relationship.”

“I lied.” You tell him. “Now, go.”

He sighs through his nose, “I’m going to come back.”

“Doesn’t mean I’ll open my door.” You push his shoulder. “I’m serious, leave.”

He doesn’t say anything else, stepping onto your porch. You take a few steps toward the door, reaching out to grab the handle, face beginning to contort, body having enough. Finnick turns around in time to catch the first tear fall, before you slam the door in his face.

You turn the lock, head dropping as the first sob leaves you.

--

this was part of my 3k celebration!! also, you didn't specify a list so i went with the mystery list :))

#ilguna #finnick odair #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair oneshot #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair x you #finnick odair x yn #finnick odair x y/n #finnick imagine #finnick oneshot #finnick fanfic #finnick x reader #finnick x you #finnick x yn #finnick x y/n #thg #the hunger games #3k celebration #zenikskefta #ask #requested #angst

[luimagines]

Sequel to ‘You Leave Before He Can Confess’ Part 3

Masterlist

Part 1 Part 2

This will coincide with the first half which you can read right here!

Part 3 will include the same boys, which are Wild, Legend and Hyrule.

Content under the cut!

Wild

With no one else to turn to, Wild had told Zelda everything.

From the beginning to the end he didn’t leave anything out. Somewhere in the back of his mind he had a feeling that he shouldn’t that told Zelda as much as he did. A part of it might have been cruel for her to know, but he had no more filter. Once the floodgates were open, he had a hard time reeling everything back in.

It was borderline impossible. 

“Did you ever find them?” She asks quietly in the end. Zelda simply tries to keep him talking. She’s been crying silently for the past twenty minutes but Wild doesn’t want to think about the implications of her tears.

“No.” He says, wiping his own face. “I don’t know where they went. They never appeared again.”

Zelda reaches for his hand, squeezing it gently. “If they were as mighty as you said they were, then I’m positive that they’re alive.”

“That’s-!″ Not good enough, dies on his tongue. It should be good enough. There’s nothing else in his power to ask for anything other than that.

Instead he deflates, crumbling in the spot where he sits. “That’s not the problem. We never found out where they ended up. We didn’t even come close to finding them again. They were just... gone... How do we know if they made it home? How do we know if they weren’t hurt on the other side? How can I know if  I did everything I could?”

Zelda nods, still crying. “...I don’t know, Link. We might just have to accept that there are things we’ll never know. Did we try our best to stop the Calamity? Hadn’t we lost so many people already? Is this that much different?”

“Zelda, that’s even worse!” Wild gulps, trying to not raise his voice. He hasn’t spoken this much in a very long time. His throat is beginning to feel sore. He needs water.

“Link, you have always done your best for everyone.” She tells him. “It’s not anyone’s fault that this happened. It’s simply... unfortunate. The only thing you can do is hope. And hope with all you’re willing to allow yourself to hope.”

Wild hums, wiping his face again. Should he mention how much he had fallen for you? Would that get Zelda to see how much he’s actually hurting? Would she understand how he feels? You might as well have died and he was powerless to stop it. Forced to be just out of arms reach as you rushed into battle-

Wait a minute. That sounds familiar.

He looks up at Zelda finally taking in her tears and her brave smile. He feels guilty. He feels horrible. The weight of his words finally hitting him. She has always been waiting for him, he realizes.

She’s just as alone as he is. How did he not see it before?

“I’m sorry.” Wild blurts. “I’ve spent this whole time just... crying...and you haven’t even... I’m sorry.”

Somehow, Zelda finds in herself to smile wider. “I know. I’m simply sorry for not having more power to help you.”

“I don’t need your power to help me.” He mutters. And he doesn’t. He just wants you back. He just wants to talk to you again. Why is that too much to ask?

Zelda takes his answer in stride, swinging his hand lightly. “Perhaps... but that doesn’t change anything in my perspective.”

Wild sniffles. His whole body hurts. When was the last he expressed this much emotion. “I know... and thank you.”

Legend

Admittedly, he was quite mean to Ravio when he came back home.

He didn’t want to admit to himself that he had messed up. That he was dumb. that there was no return. That he had loved and lost for a second time.

“Mr. Hero.” Ravio puts a plate in front of him. “You need to eat.”

“I’m not hungry.” He mutters, turning away from the plate. He has to give it to the purple rabbit. He’s can be just as stubborn as he is. When he came back, it was a part of their deal that Ravio would go home, but he stayed and refuses to leave.

Granted, Legend hasn’t exactly had the heart to kick him out fully, but he had hoped to some degree that Ravio would honor their agreement.

He should have known better.

Ravio put his hands on his hips, staring down the other young man until he pushes the food in front of his face again. “Eat. Don’t make me get Hilda.”

Legend tenses up slightly. “Why would you get Hilda?”

“Because I know you don’t want Zelda to see the state you’re in.” Ravio glares. “That’s why, despite the fact that she misses you and wants to see if you’re ok, you’ve been avoiding her- claiming you have the plague or something.”

Legend winces. Ravio isn’t entirely wrong. He had been writing to Zelda about his return and she had been wanting him to come to the castle. but he told her that he was injured and was silently recovering at home. When he got better, he would see her.

But for Hilda to get involved... That’s a whole other can of worms that Legend doesn’t feel inclined to open. Slowly, he reaches for the plate and the fork and begins to eat the food on the plate.

Ravio relaxes and sit on the table with his back to the window. He sighs and shakes his head, staring away from the blond as he eats. “Goodness me... you’re one stubborn mule. What even happened this time around? I’ve never seen you so distraught?”

“I lost someone.” He mutters between bites. He knows that he can tell Ravio some bits and pieces. He’s not afraid of the judgement he might receive. “I didn’t have the chance to get them back.”

Ravio hisses and looks away. “That would do it...Do you want to talk about it?”

Legend shakes his head, slowly eating more food from the plate. He can’t even taste it. He’s sure that it’s edible though. Nothing like the Champion’s cooking, or his own, but Ravio isn’t a disaster in the kitchen. Probably.

Ravio hums, kicking his feet until Legend eats his fill. He managed to eat more than he thought he would. He almost cleaned the entire plate.

“Good.” Ravio hops off of the table and goes to take the plate away. “now go take a shower, you smell to high heavens.”

Legend cracks a weak smile, the first one in weeks. “And you tell me this now?”

“It was secondary.” Ravio flicks his forehead. “Give me a second and I’ll get the water running.”

Legend sighs. “I’m not getting out of this, am I?”

“Do you want to Hilda come over and take over the place?”

“....I’m going.”

Hyrule

The rest of that moment passes by in a blur. One by one the others all left for their homes, leaving the adventure and each other behind. Time stays with him until the end. Legend had just finished his goodbyes, telling the older man that after everything he understands now why the world sent him n so many adventures.

He has to live up to the legacy of what should have been. Hyrule knows that he comes after Legend, so what does that means for him?

Time waits until Hyrule passes through the portal himself. He can see the concern on the Old Man’s face but he doesn’t care enough to try and ease it. Hyrule sends a lazy salute, not bothering to clean his face. “Take care, Link.”

“I could say the same to you.” He nods, crossing his arms. He still looks uneasy, following the younger hero from a distance.

Hyrule won’t think about it. He turns and walks through the poral, ending up somewhere he knows but also wishes he was somewhere else. He’s in the middle of the beach front. It’ll take days to make it back to his cave.

With nothing else to do and little motivation to do anything else, he starts his journey home.

He feels tired. He feels exhausted.

Is this how it all ends? It must be. Nothing around him seems any different than how he left it.

An octoroc fires behind him and it hits his back straight on.

The pain is welcomed. Hyrule falls flat on his face into the sand, not bothering to get up just yet. He can hear it fire another one right at him and it explodes into the sand on his left, nearly burying him in the process.

Hyrule can hear someone yelling at him in the back of his head, something that tells him to get up, to keep moving, to get out of there before irreparable happens.

But he doesn’t want to.

Another shot is fired, hitting him dead on.

That one hurts more than the first and it spurs the instinctual need to run away. He curls up, narrowly avoiding the forth hit before he finds it in himself to sit up and run away from the monster.

Somewhere behind him, he can hear that the commotion of the first octoroc has caught the attention of other monsters. Their grunts and chuffs are slowly closing in on him.

Blatantly, he remembers where he is and who he is.

He is Link once more, no longer Hyrule. He has the full triforce. He has a cursed on his blood. And he is back home.

He is hunted once more.

He cannot afford to bleed.

His earlier injuries' are suddenly a higher cause of concern than they once were. He cannot afford to let Ganon come back after everything.

Even if you are no longer by his side, he admits to himself that it was never meant to be. But for you to have peace, even if it’s years after he’s gone, he needs to live. He needs to do his part.

So before the monsters can find him and fulfill their never ending goal of sacrifice, Link runs.

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #linked universe x reader #lu x reader

[beneathstarryskies]

Hi uhmmmm

Could I maybe 👉👈 request a sweet fic about Renji being romantic with his insecure girlfriend? Maybe she's just not feeling her best. And it could be smutty too.

Thanks!

Word Count: 1,188

Warnings: smut, arguing, insecurity, body issues, unprotected sex, mirror sex, fem!reader, dirty talk

It happens quite often, more often than Renji would like. You’ll have one little moment of insecurity, and then it snowballs. One moment you’re happily putting on your makeup, and he’ll hear you say something under your breath about your skin, eyes, face, hair, or…Almost anything. The next thing he knows, you’re wiping all the makeup away and returning to the couch with slumped shoulders. Often he’s seen you put on the cutest little outfit only to see something that you think is out of place, and then he sees you just deflate. 

He understands insecurity, but at the same time, he just doesn’t quite get it. In his eyes, you’re the most beautiful woman in the universe. Not just that, but you’re so funny—so sweet and kind. You always know what to say when he’s feeling low, and you never fail to comfort him when he needs it most. You’re everything to him, utter perfection wrapped in a beautiful package. He adores you. SO…why can’t you see yourself through his eyes? To see yourself through his eyes is to see the embodiment of love. 

It happens again. The two of you are getting ready for a date night, and you’re squealing about how excited you are to wear your new dress. He lounges across the end of the bed, flipping between watching you get ready and reading a book laid out in front of him. He’s humming softly as he reads, then he hears it. 

“Oh,” you whisper when you look at yourself in the mirror. You tug at the fabric of the dress, trying to change the way it fits your form. Your previously thrilled smile drops into a soft frown. Your shoulders are slumped. Renji feels his heartache when he sees that sadness. 

“You look beautiful, baby,” he says as he closes his book and stands up. You’re already looking away from your reflection when he comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist. His large hands caress your hips, enjoying the soft material hugging your form. “I like it.” 

You sigh softly, “I don’t think I have the figure for it.” 

“No, baby. It looks beautiful.” 

“I don’t like it,” you snap a little bit and pull away from him. 

He feels a little upset at the way you acted. He stands there alone watching you take the dress off and toss it deep into the closet. He realizes the date night is effectively cancelled when you put on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt Without saying a word, he follows suit. 

“Fine, be that way,” he mutters to himself. 

Although soon, he realizes you’re hurting…Deep inside there’s just a sadness in you that nags constantly to you that everything about you is just wrong. It’s not his fault, he knows, but he just wants to take the pain away. 

His attempts at sweetness are always a little clumsy, and tonight is no different. He tries to make you some hot cocoa, but drops the mug on the floor. He tiptoes around you while trying to set up a romantic night in. Soon enough he decides to throw caution to the wind. Instead of putting all of these things together, he just gathers you up in his arms. He gives you kisses all over your cheeks. 

“Listen to me, I can’t watch my pretty girl pout all night,” he whispers as he carries you to bed. “If you won’t believe me when I tell you how beautiful you are, I guess I’ll just have to show you.” 

He carries you effortlessly to the bedroom. It’s not long before he has you right where he wants you…

Renji’s large hands are warm as he touches your breasts with gentle, almost coveting kneads. He presses soft kisses on your neck and shoulders, not hiding at all how deeply he’s inhaling your scent. You’re sitting on his lap with your back to his chest and the mirror is set up in front of you. He groans as he looks up in the mirror again, seeing your flushed face and heavy eyes staring back at him. 

“Look at you, baby,” he growls against your ear. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” 

He cups your chin so he can bring your mouth to his in a heated, passionate kiss. You’re left whining and squirming on his lap when he pulls out of it with a smirk. It’s hard to believe that just a couple hours ago you were pouting on the couch, murmuring words of discontent with yourself as he tried to comfort you. 

“Renji, I can’t take much more,” you whimper as you squirm on his lap. 

“I know, baby,” he whispers and grinds his erection against your ass. “Feel how hard I am for you?” 

“Please, Renji! ‘Need you so bad,” you whine. 

“Mhm,” he hums. 

He pushes your pants down and begins playing with your little pussy. The whole time he’s teasing your folds, he’s whispering in your ear about how beautiful you are in his eyes. Your head lulls back against his shoulder, but he’s quick to make you look at yourself in the mirror again. 

“Don’t look away, baby. I want you to see what I see,” he whispers. “Fuck, you look so good all the time.” 

He reaches down to free his long, aching cock from the confines of his sweats and then lifts your hips. You watch in the mirror with bated breath and you feel the tip of his cock press against your entrance. He guides you to sink down on his cock. You moan as you watch his thick shaft split you open as he sinks deeper and deeper. You both moan as he bottoms out.

“Good girl,” he grunts. 

You start moving on his cock, rocking your hips rhythmically and watching yourself in the mirror only seems to boost your confidence even more. Then, your gaze flicks to his face, already flushed with pleasure. 

“Oh, Renji, it feels so good,” you moan. 

“Fuck yeah it does.” 

He pushes his hand between your legs to begin rubbing your clit in time with your pace. Soon he can’t keep still anymore and he begins pumping up into your tight hole. Your cries of pleasure fill the room alongside the slapping of his skin against yours. It was an intense ritual meant for only the two of you. 

You cry out as the coil in your stomach snaps. Your cunt leaks all over his cock as you ride out your orgasm. Then, you’re limp against his broad chest. He holds onto you as he keeps thrusting up into you. His pace is sloppy as he chases his high. 

“Look at yourself, baby,” he grunts. “So fucking pretty when you’re taking my cock.” 

With a few more thrusts, his hips stutter and he’s painting your walls white. He cries out in pure pleasure before falling back against the bed with you still seated on his lap. 

“Fuck, that was amazing,” he gasps. As you pull of his cock and lay beside him, he cups your cheek. “You’re amazing. Don’t forget it.” 

#renji x reader #renji abarai x reader #renji bleach x reader #abarai renji x reader #🌟written in the stars

[just-a-gamer-daydeamer-girl]

So now I’m hyper fixated on Rayman again I should probably post some of my head canons on the limbless guy

Rayman is a master at playing all the instruments in the plucked string family. Including the harp. Every time I hear his theme in Rayman M I keep thinking he is the one completely rocking the Banjo.

He also has a hobby in painting. Just anything he feels like painting he paints, he mostly just does it for himself and doesn’t give any of his paintings away even as gifts. It’s more a hobby for himself and he either doesn’t feel comfortable with giving his works away or doesn’t think that there good enough.

His love language is quality time, he doesn’t care what they do he just wants to spend time with others. Weather it’s sleeping together with globox, helping Ly or listening to murffy ramble.

He does have a spa day at least every week.

Rayman often leaves his home, no one in the glade knows where he goes or how to find him but he always comes back after a few days. The popular theory is that he trains his skills in private during this time but no one knows.

He gets really angry when others blame him for things he has no control over or when he ends up failing and telling him that it’s his fault .

Rayman and Barbara have a bit of a toxic relationship. They both enable each other’s reckless behavior. But their friendship is more of a friendly rivalry more than anything. They are adventurous buddies to the end.

He knows how to fight with a battle axe, and other weapons, Barbara and the other princesses taught him.

In legends he ended up getting captured several times and Barbara had to save him. (Like from the giant toad in the Rayman legends trailer)

He and Barbara often wrestle and have some playful fights together. Sometimes this goes on for hours.

Rayman has a strange relationship with Betilla, she is both his mom but also kinda not. Betilla is conflicting because she genuinely thinks of Rayman as her son (even if she doesn’t realize it) but her duties as a Protector kinda conflict with that (basically her feelings are conflicting with her logic) as she created Rayman to save the world. They really need to talk about their relationship but Betilla kinda keeps pushing the subject away. This is one of the main reasons why Rayman left the valley, he was sick of not getting a straight answer. But he does genuinely care for her.

This odd relationship extends to the other Nymphs, who all adore and care for Rayman but due to their duties keep bit of distance from the limbless boy. Except Voodoo Mama, she full blown calls herself Auntie Voodoo to Rayman and insists on calling Betilla his mother. She is the one who helps Rayman leave the valley, understanding all of his reasons to do so.

The magician (Rayman 1) actually helped raise Rayman if Betilla was too busy. He taught Rayman important lessons about morality. He also liked hyping him up with dramatic speeches and was the first one to call rayman a hero despite, him haven’t done any heroics yet.

Rayman keeps his past and his relationships with his mother and aunts a secret but he does let some things slip every now and again. Hence why the Phantom knows about Mr dark.

Rayman is a foodie, he loves all kinds of food and enjoys eating anything. And he can technically eat anything with no problem, but that doesn’t mean he likes the taste.

He sometimes visits has conversations with both Polokus and Jano.

He is asexual (I don’t think he ever shown any interest whatsoever) but he may be open to a romantic relationship.

Some nights he can’t sleep and just watches the sky.

Hates being picked up and held like a doll or a kid.

The way he ‘ages’ is different from others as instead of growing up naturally he instead incorporates energy, lums and magic into his body which allows him to get bigger and changes his appearance over time. (I think the limbless are creatures who are unable to age)

Rayman makes a majority of his own clothes or gets them custom Made. Not a lot of shops made for limbless people around.

He likes a wide variety of music, mostly he likes 2000’s music though.

Rayman loves to enjoy the little things in life, he likes the idea of riches and glory but doesn’t love it.

He loves children, and is a really good babysitter.

He actually gets really scared when facing threats, he gets scared when fighting Mr Darks forces, the robot pirates, the hoodlums, the knaaren, even the Rabbids scare him. But he knows that fear isn’t something to be ashamed of, embraces it, and manages to act despite of it. That is genuine courage. 

He is clever, and can be an absolute troll when he wants to be, using his extended reach to pull pranks.

He takes care of the walking shell like a pet, it has a weird power of putting itself back together.

There are a lot of legends and rumors about him from what he accomplished and what he looks like to his backstory. Some of them are extremely wild and a lot of people don’t realize that the Rayman in the rumors is the same guy when they meet him in real life.

His hands and feet sometimes wanders around with out his knowledge when he is deep in sleep.

He is very aware that one’s species and looks do not attribute to how good or evil they are. He learned this lesson from others who judged him purely on looks, many people have attacked him in the past due to his appearance and thinking he is a monster.

He ended up ultimately failing to save Globox’s children from the Rabbids, someone else saved them. But he did in up accidentally saving the Rabbids by unknowingly teaching them to enjoy the little things in life, that it’s okay to make mistakes, enjoying their own sense of fashion and getting them into hobbies, allowing them to actually be happy and Turing them away from their conquest and destruction in the long run, and this all eventually leads to the Rabbid heroes in Mario + rabbids. Some Rabbids actually worship him as a god for opening their eyes to the wonders of the universe. To bad no one really knows about this connection.

After the Rabbids invasion Rayman starts having trouble sleeping (Ubisoft gave him eye bags in sparks of hope) and his friends (minus Barbara who hasn’t been aware of this situation due to reasons) were a bit disappointed in him after failing to defeat the Rabbids, not offering him any comfort or compassion to him, treating him differently then they used to. This did not help his mental health, and he started taking longer trips from home. (This is not my original idea but I love it.)

Rayman went to the phantom show because he had nothing better to do.

The Phantom invited Rayman because he as a few memories of him before he got fussed, he is also a bit jealous of the limbless hero.

There is quite a bit of distrust between Rayman, Rabbid Mario and Rabbid peach. Beep-o has to play peace keeper. (There is no way he instantly trusts them just because they say they’re heroes.) They do end up forming a genuine friendship by the end of the game but there was a bit of drama we didn’t get to see.

Rabbid Mario is the most friendly to him, liking Rayman’s vibe. But it takes awhile for Rabbid Peach to warm up to him. Rayman is visibly untrusting but civil to all the Rabbids.

When asked about why he doesn’t like the Rabbids by Beep-o he tells the truth about how they originally came from the glade of dreams, invaded and captured others and all the other horrific stuff. He says that he knows that it’s silly to judge if someones good or evil because of their race, but that’s not gonna stop him from being weary of the Rabbids. Rabbid Mario just looks horrified, Rabbid Peach just scoffs saying that she would never be apart of some dum- but never finishing her sentence.

Rayman is technically a demigod.

If he ever met Ramon he would except him as a family member.

He knows the value of listening

Might do more later

#Rayman #my headcanons #rabbids #Rayman 1 #Rayman 2 #Rayman 3 #rayman raving rabbids #mario + rabbids #mario + rabbids sparks of hope #rayman in the phantom show #rabbid peach #rabbid mario #beep o #globox #barbara #ly the fairy #murffy #rayman origins #rayman legends #Rayman m #Ramon

[xaharadesert]

Over-Apologizing MC - Headcanon

Arcana Characters (Julian, Portia, Asra) x MC

A/N: here’s #7, the winner of the poll! The person who sent in the request was anonymous, so I feel slightly less bad about writing it 6 months after it was submitted hehe :) (side note: I’m Canadian, so my definition of over-apologizing may be vastly different than yours) please let me know if there are any spelling or grammar mistakes! (End note: y’all need to be grateful that I have learned self-control, because every time I write for Asra the opportunity and temptation for angst is incredibly powerful)

❤️Julian❤️

He’s a somewhat clumsy man himself, so he can relate to constantly apologizing

He always quickly dispels any guilt he senses you’re feeling, often saying not to worry, or that it’s no issue when you apologize

To be honest, at first he doesn’t even realize that you say you’re sorry even when you’re not in the wrong

If he hears you apologizing when you’re in a different room, he assumes you’ve knocked something over and he just didn’t hear— he’ll shout a quick “no worries, my love, you’re fine” and then go back to whatever he was doing before

He only catches on when someone bumps into you in the market while you were standing still, and you decided to apologize while stranger glared at you

Now that just wouldn’t stand

He was quick to correct the situation— much to the chagrin of the stranger— since he assumed you had apologized on reflex

But when you began insisting it was your fault, even though it clearly wasn’t, he made a note to himself to keep an eye on what he was beginning to think was perhaps a bad habit

And lo-and-behold, this was definitely a pattern of behaviour that he immediately knew he would have to help correct

There is a difference between being polite and being a doormat, as he would gently try to inform you

Fortunately for you, if you ever backpedaled and started apologizing more than you should again, Julian would be more than happy to step in and correct the situation

Of course, that doesn’t change the fact that he’s a self-deprecating hypocrite who also apologizes much more than he should

So standing up for each other becomes the new habit— even if you both apologize far too often for yourselves, you both keep an eye out for when your partner is doing the same

And slowly, you work your way out of it

🧡Portia🧡

Unfortunately for you, Portia is the kind of woman to get sick of constant apologizing pretty quickly

She lived through it for years with Julian, and she’s not willing to go through it again

She notices the pattern within a few weeks of living together; at first she thought you were just nervous about the next step in your relationship, but she quickly realized that there was an underlying problem

Not wanting to be insensitive, she tries correcting it from a couple different angles

Her first guess is anxiety, so she tries to reassure you that you’re fine, even in small situations where there would be no indication otherwise

The next is a lack of confidence, so she starts standing up for you whenever she thinks you need backup

This one can come in a few different forms:

There’s the classic “THAT’S MY SPOUSE!” punch in the face whenever someone disrespects you

But there’s also moments where she starts threatening the vegetables that rolled off the cutting board when you were cooking

At least she’s consistent

When she can’t figure out some deeper meaning behind your apologizing, Portia ends up sticking with the same tactic that worked with Julian

“Stop.” “No.” “Literally don’t.”

As time goes by, those three phrases become more exasperated, but also more effective

She adds to this method by giving you a kiss every time you catch yourself and don’t apologize for something that isn’t your fault

Portia has never read about Pavlov, but she’s still a dedicated student to his methods

💙Asra💙

He’s lived with your habits the longest, and doesn’t really think he can change them at this point

It’s not like they bother him though; the apologies don’t hurt anyone, and as long as there aren’t any underlying issues of anxiety or a lack of confidence, he sees no reason not to let you continue

And although he would never admit it out loud, it provides him the opportunity to ask “for what?”, which he thinks is hilarious even if you don’t

The funniest part, in his opinion, is that you usually don’t have an answer

If there were cameras in Vesuvia, he would take a picture every time you started staring off into space, looking for an answer that doesn’t exist

He’s not mean though; he would never do this in any kind of situation where someone else was in the wrong

If that were the case, he would step in immediately

He can’t stand to see you take the blame for something you didn’t do

Most people are kind enough to admit their own fault, and they’ll apologize to you in turn

But occasionally someone will be a complete dick, and in that case Asra takes the opportunity to verbally destroy them

It usually only takes one oddly specific insult for them to change their mind and apologize

And if you dare to then apologize to Asra for the hassle of defending you?

That’s probably the only situation where he will actually tell you to stop

Defending you and taking care of you will never be a burden to him; it will always be a gift to stay by your side

#the arcana #arcana #the arcana game #the arcana headcanon #the arcana hc #julian devorak #julian arcana #Julian headcanon #Julian x mc #portia devorak #Portia arcana #Portia x mc #Portia headcanon #asra alnazar #Asra headcanon #Asra arcana #Asra x mc

[seriouslysam8]

I’m 5’10 and I hate it! I can’t wear heels because all the guys I’ve dated feel insecure when I’m taller than them. We can’t do this to Maia! You realize this means you need to pair her with Ron or one of the twins, right? Let’s pair her with Fred since we love Demelza and Angelina. We don’t know Audrey too well so meh we can sacrifices her and that husband of hers. Don’t worry about the age difference, they can date when she’s out of Hogwarts. Let Sirius worry about it, and have Remus tell Sirius he told him he wasn’t a big deal when he was dating Tonks so why does it matter now?? Sirius telling Maia he doesn’t approve of Fred is the first time Harry and Sirius have a big fight, because Harry always has Maia’s back. Now Sirius is even more upset with Fred because the thinks it’s his fault all of his kids and wife are upset with him. When Fred comes over for dinner he goes on about the Marauders Map and how they were all geniuses and Sirius is so annoyed because he loves the kid but wants to hate him so much. This is lowkey me trying to convince you not to kill Fred lol.

Just please kill Percy for the love of god. There’s too many fics of every other Weasley dying but no one is killing off the little git.

I’m pretty sure in canon the twins are short and stocky, not tall like the Phelps twins.

But Maia is like so beautifully tall, like all the other Blacks. She can totally just wear flats. (Wear flats, girl!! No need to kill your feet in heels!)

But I don’t know. It would be kind of funny for Harry to date Ron’s sister and Ron to date Harry’s sister. 🤣🤣🤣🤣 But I do adore Romelza.

EDIT: I am a short girl. I wish I could wear flats without looking like I’m 12. Heels kill. 😭😭😭