#while without it she’s droopy and weak

[rorydrawsandwrites]

I have a question, for Gangle to be able to possess Jax, is he heavy for her? Like does she use a lot of strength to lift her arms and head too? Or is Jax too light? I've been thinking about this for a while

I’ll leave this one up to you guys

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

I won’t let you leave

Tags: Xavier x fem!Reader, possessive!Xavier, LADS, fluff

Synopsis: This is based on the 5-star memory Precious Bonfire. The Unicorns decide to go camping in the woods and have a bonfire. You’re appointed captain of the trip, and everyone keeps taking you away from Xavier.

An: Guyyss, I’m normally such a Zayne/Sylus girlie but… possessive!Xavier holds a special place in my heart 🤭

All day long it was always something with someone. Someone was always pulling your attention.

“Captain, I need help setting up my tent.” “Captain, I need help with the can opener.” “Captain, where are the extra polls?” “Captain, I cut my hand.”

Xavier had spent long enough staying quiet at your side, but inwardly, he was pretty disgruntled by how weak a group of deepspace hunters were while out in the elements.

He was also tired of having to share your attention. He only attended this bonfire party because you were going, but you were being pulled every different direction. You were clearly exhausted and wanted a moment without being asked a million questions. So, he started to answer questions for you.

“Captain, where’s-“

“Did you even check the camp resources before coming to ask?” Xavier speaks up, completely interrupting the hunter of his question. His normally soft blue eyes were sharp and narrow as he glares at the hunter.

“I… will go check there first…” The hunter mutters quietly as he spins to head the other direction quickly. Xavier certainly has.. a reputation amongst hunters.

“Wise decision.” Xavier mutters, and he subtly pulls your tired body closer to his. You two are sitting on a blanket on the ground, enjoying each other’s presence underneath the sunset. It’s the first time Xavier’s gotten your attention all day. “You’re done helping out for the day, okay?”

“Hm? But what if they need me..” Your voice sounds so sleepy, and Xavier tucks you under his arm.

“They don’t need you. They’re just using you instead of using their brains.” His finger gently boops you on the nose “I won’t let them keep using you like that.”

“The bonfire party should be starting soon.” You murmur, and you nuzzle your head closer to Xavier’s shoulder. A small smile spreads across his face. Nothing could beat this moment right here.

“Do you wish to go? It seems like you’re too sleepy to me.” He muses softly as he takes note of your droopy eyes and dreamy expression.

“I don’t want to miss out, and.. what if people notice we’re gone?” You ask softly.

“You can tell them that I won’t let you leave my side. Besides, I can make our own small bonfire celebration.” Xavier answers, and he holds out the palm of his hand, using his light evol to make sparks and light dance around his hand.

Seeing Xavier use his evol is always a treat. It makes you feel warm and fuzzy on the inside while you snuggle closer to him. You mutter a small, “Thank you.” He seems to know your limitations better than you do.

“You have nothing to thank me for. You take care of everyone else. It’s time someone takes care of you.” He presses a gentle kiss to your temple.

“Hey Captain..? Are you..-“

“Leave her be.” His voice immediately hardens as he shoots the hunter a glare. Xavier’s personality is able to switch so quickly, especially while he’s irritated like this.

“I just wanted to see if she wanted to come to the bonfire party.” The hunter persists, not giving up despite Xavier’s clear order.

Instead of fighting against the hunter, Xavier leaned his head down to face you. A clear prompt for you to speak up.

“I’m fine here with Xavier.” You finally respond, looking up at the hunter. “I’m not leaving his side.”

The hunter slightly frowns as he gazes at both you and Xavier together before turning around to walk away. Xavier eyes him the entire time he walks back towards the bonfire.

“You did good, little star.” Xavier whispers before pressing another kiss to your cheek.

“You make me sound so mean.” You softly laugh while shaking your head. Your hand reaches up and gently pinches his cheek.

“No, I make you sound assertive. Unless, you wanted to go hang out at the bonfire and leave me behind.” He responds with a small laugh. He grabs your hand that’s pinching his cheek, and he uses it as leverage to pin you to the blanket. His body moves on top of yours. “Did you want to leave me?”

“No, never.” His face leans in close to yours, lips just barely brushing against each others.

“Good. Then don’t.” He murmurs before pressing a firm possessive kiss to your lips, laying his claim on your attention and presence. The hunters would just have to make do without their captain.

[luveline]

if your still taking requests I would like to request reader scraping their knees and tasm!peter patching her up and it’s a lot of lovely tension:))) maybe r not being used to people touching them without bad intentions.

I hope you are having a lovely time right now and are taking care of yourself<3

thank you lovely! ♡ fem, 1k

Peter's droopy eyed when you knock, less so when he gets a good look at you. Blood leading like twin snakes from the grazed ache of your knees and staining your socks, tears lining your eyes and shiny in the sun, you're embarrassingly sad. He doesn't give you shit for it, the opposite. 

"Fuck," he says, his eyes widening with a familiar concern. "Shit, what did you do?" 

"Uhm," you say, though you know, but you bit your tongue on the way down and everything hurts, "I fell. Someone bumped into me coming out of the subway." 

Peter holds his hands out, thinks better of it and steps down over the door jam to take your hands and pull you forward for a hug. He smells like apple jack cereal and his hair is still wet from an early morning shower, a walking poster boy for brown-haired, brown-eyed sweethearts everywhere, but you still seize at his tight hold. 

He murmurs a sorry and leans back, assessing your gaze, so close that you can see the trifecta of his pinprick beauty marks, one in the shadow of his brow, one under his eye, and one closer to his nose. 

"Come on. We'll clean you up." 

Peter ushers you inside, his fingertips brushing the small of your back. You walk into the kitchen, every surface clean, the wooden dining table decorated by one empty coffee cup and one half full. His cereal bowl has been washed and left to dry on the rack, next to what must've been his Aunt May's plate. 

"May's in work already?" you ask him.

He hums, turned away from you, a slip of his long, shapely back exposed as he reaches for the first aid kit sitting on top of one of the cabinets. "She said to tell you thank you for the flowers last week." 

You panicked so much beforehand. What do you bring for your not quite new friend's mom when you meet her for the first time? You've known Peter for a few months but never had the good fortune to meet May until she demanded it, your bouquet a weak offering. You'd wanted her to like you, because despite your fight or flight whenever he gives you a quick shoulder rub, any ounce of affection, you really like Peter. 

Said flowers draw your attention as Peter helps you up onto the counter. You turn away from him, trembling hands forced under your thighs, and count the petals of a wilting carnation one by one as he washes his hands quickly in the sink beside you before laying out the sterile bandages atop their plastic coverings. "I'm gonna wipe the blood off," he says. 

You're past saying no, I can do it myself. You already let him help you up. The time to protest is passed. 

"Okay." 

He takes your wobbly voice for nervousness, and you are nervous, but not the way he thinks. "I'll be careful," he says. "You don't have anything to worry about." 

Strange but not unheard of for Peter to be so serious. You nod jerkily, waiting for his touch. It doesn't come for a while, and you brave meeting his gaze to find out why. 

His eyebrows are sewn together in concern. His hands land on your thighs, and, to your surprise, you aren't apprehensive. You relax as deft hands draw mirrored lines up and down the outer sides of your legs, leaving a generous distance from the beginnings of your shorts. "Maybe you can take some advil first, if you're worried." He eases your legs apart as he steps into the space between them, his eyes unfailing where they meet yours. "It'll hurt less. I bet I could get some topical numbing cream–" 

"It's not–" You peek down at his chest. "I'm not worried about my knees." 

"Oh. Good," he says, hand coming up to your elbow. He holds it so tenderly you wonder how you ever thought he might have a propensity for anything but tenderness. "You look really nice, under all the blood. Is that weird? That's probably why you fell, you couldn't just walk around looking that nice. Throws off the balance of the universe." 

You laugh softly. "These are my best socks." 

"I can see that!" He squeezes down from your elbow to your hand. You've never been touched like that, half massage, half reassurance, just squeezing you to squeeze you. Laughter livens his tone, "I'll get you new socks." 

"You don't have to do that."

"I want to." 

You struggle to breathe as he cleans your knees. Between his murmuring, It's okay and Almost done, you've no time to feel worried. 

You've time for other things, like this. He turns between your legs and slides a hand under the other, fingertips pressing into the soft underside of your knee as he works a thin layer of disinfecting ointment into your scratches. He continues his murmuring, apologies and lamentation alike. "Sorry. Don't want you catching rabies from the pristine streets of Queens. I mean, fuck, sweetheart, you made a real mess. How hard did you fall?" 

You swallow a lump that feels fit to choke you, worse when he tilts his head ever so slightly your way, face an inch from yours, less. 

"Hard," you say weakly. 

He misses the implication (your first stroke of luck all day), smoothing a large square of gauze over your knee and securing it with medical tape. "It's nothing a day on the couch can't fix. I'll make you breakfast too, free of charge." 

"Thanks, Peter." 

He rubs the skin above your knee. "You're welcome. One horrendous injury down, one to go." 

His touch feels even softer the second time around. 

[creatchie8]

Yellow Soul: Chapter Seven

Cornsilk

Chapter Summary: A night at the bar leads to some unexpected findings, unknowingly you are now tied to Rhett Abbott for life.

Pairing: Rhett Abbott/Fem!Reader

Warnings: Minors DNI- mentioned nausea (no actual vomiting), violence (not against the reader), angst

Word Count: 4,300ish

A/N: Heyy... I'm real happy to be back, life was beyond crazy but I am finally into writing for YS! I hope you love it as much as I do :)

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter - Masterlist

It was eerily quiet in your parent’s house tonight. No one at the dinner table was talking so the clink of their forks took up most of the space. Faintly, you could hear the TV in the living room, some infomercial about gardening supplies on. 

It was odd for the house to be this quiet. You grew up with plenty of siblings, and even nieces and nephews as the years progressed. Always squealing, bickering, and laughing. Now with your dad sick, the residence had taken a more solemn air. It was like everything was greyer too. The normally powder blue walls were dull and fading, the once pristine white carpet yellowing as your dad got sicker. 

Madison, your mom, and your older brother Christopher all ate in the dining room while your dad laid in his recliner watching the infomercial. He rarely left the spot, only to leave for the doctors or to the bathroom. 

“Remind me where you are going?” Your mother’s question draws you back from your thoughts, the overhead light harsh on her worn features. Looking down you could see that even after being at the table for twenty minutes, she still had barely touched her food. 

Your mom was dying just as he was. 

Clearing your throat before answering, you shift uncomfortably in your seat, “I’m meeting a coworker for drinks. Beth lives here and commutes to Lander.” 

“On a Wednesday night?” She cocks her eyebrow and you nod, turning back to your food. An awkward silence settles around your family. She forgets you are twenty-nine, old enough to live on your own and make your own choices, even if they were dumb ones like going out on a work night. 

“Ma, wanna know what ridiculous thing a kid said at the daycare today?” Madison’s voice cuts through the thick fog and saves you, drawing whatever judgement your mom had against you away. Christopher was on his phone, not paying attention to anything while he typed. 

Without much protest (thank god) you excused yourself from the dinner table and to the kitchen to put away your dishes. Your dad’s chair was rocking the tiniest bit, the TV now playing some cop show. He normally sat tall in that chair, his head poking above the headrest. Here he was slouched, his body compressed. 

Picking up your bag you padded over to the side of his chair, teeth worrying your bottom lip. His skin was patchy, mottled with age spots and bruises due to the nature of his condition. You weren't even sure if he was awake, his eyes glassy and lids droopy. It wasn't till you placed a delicate hand on his shoulder that his head twitched towards you, a smile ghosting over his lips. 

Taking his cold, boney hand from his lap and holding it between yours, you were desperate to warm him up. He opened his mouth and let out a weak cough, the motion rattling his whole body. 

“I’m leaving, but I’ll come back on Friday to hang out with you.” It took everything in your face to muster up a smile that felt convincing enough. You could tell he saw right through it though. He always knew, some days it felt like he knew you better than yourself. 

Simply nodding, his attention was turned back to the TV, “Be safe, darlin’” he whispered, lightly squeezing one of your hands. 

-

You're not exactly sure how you managed to get to the bar in one piece. Leaving your parent’s home you were completely on autopilot, trusting that you would somehow find yourself under the neon glow of various signs in the podunk dive bar. It smells of smoke and cologne, the jukebox loud along with chattering voices. 

As Beth spoke, your mind wandered. Nodding absent-mindedly and snorting through your nose, a resemblance of a laugh. You were mostly thinking about the sharp spring digging into your back from the worn booth. 

And you felt bad for saying yes to drinks. 

The hangnail on your thumb took the brunt of your worries, the skin chewed clean off and left you with a raw spot right next to your polished nail. Hand sanitizer was going to hurt like a bitch tomorrow. 

Holding on to the conversation by a fraying thread, something caught your eye- a familiar, no, two familiar figures walking through the door. Your heart lurched and so did your stomach, bile rising in your throat. They both went to the bar, their backs turned towards you. Clenching your drink tighter, both of them just standing there. 

Perry with his weight shifted to his left leg, standing like he always has. Rhett in his usually relaxed state, never standing to his full height. 

It was too much to process in that moment, your mind so twisted with worry over your dad that you couldn't seem to focus on anything. For a long beat, you just stared. The hum of the bar muffled your coworker, the air humid and your lungs were begging for fresh air. 

“Hey-” She called your name, distant to your ears, “Are you okay?” Beth asked and your eyes flickered away from them, but their image was burned into your retinas, like you couldn't unsee them. 

Opening your mouth slightly, no sound came out. She pried the cup from your hands and set it off to the side, clearly concerned for your wellbeing, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. 

“I’m going to get you some water, okay?” Beth assured you, nodding as if she was more assuring herself that a glass of water would fix your catatonic state. Once you realized what she was doing you shook your head frantically, practically falling out of your seat as you tried to grasp at her elbow to stop her. Now alone in the booth you felt naked, the dim overhead light beating down on you like the sun. 

A dark pit forms in your stomach as you helplessly witness her push her way between a burly man and Perry, sticking her arm out to get the bartender’s attention first. The bartender is over to her in an instant, and although you cannot hear a single thing she is saying, you know exactly what came out of her mouth as she throws a thumb behind her gesturing to you. 

To your horror, you notice Perry looking down at her and you can see that his eyebrows are furrowed together, confused at her intrusion. When Perry turns his head, following her thumb, it’s like slow motion. You swear his face goes through all five stages of grief as he locks eyes with you. Sinking down into the booth you cover your mouth with your hand, pressing hard against your lips. 

You feel like throwing up. 

Then there was Rhett. You had almost completely forgotten he was there until you noticed motion by Perry’s side. While Perry already turned away from you (although you could tell he felt different, his shoulders pushed higher as if he was using them to shield him from you), Rhett was fully facing you. Turned around and leaning on the bar, his head cocked an almost imperceptible amount. 

Chest tightening, you felt your pulse quicken. 

You looked away like the whole thing didn't matter. 

But it did. It always mattered. 

“Here, drink this.” Beth shoves a glass of water under your nose and you take it, pressing the rim to your lips. The droplets of water seep into the cracks of your dry lips and you breathe in the smell of the cup, the scent of dish soap lingering. 

Beth was looking at you expectantly, “Seriously, are you good?” 

You take a slow drink of the water, letting it coat your mouth and throat. Admittedly, it did feel nice to wash away all remnants of your beer from your teeth, "Yeah... I just saw an ex of mine," you say, trying to sound casual, even though you can feel the tension creeping in. "Haven't seen him in ages, so it kind of threw me off."

“Oh my gosh, who?” Beth whispered, looking around at all the men in the packed bar. You let out a shocked laugh, grabbing her hand that rested on the table in an attempt to stop her head from whipping around.

She knew him. She just met him. 

“Beth stop that.” You scolded her, rolling your eyes as she looked back at you and giggled. You didn't dare even look over at the bar, even if you knew Perry and Rhett were no longer there, “It’s not funny, seriously. I’m never going to tell you.” 

She arched a well-groomed brow, her smile unwavering, “Come on, I’m not gonna bite," Her voice sweet but persistent, “Who is it? Just tell me, I won’t say anything, promise.”

Both men were somewhere in this room, and the thought of not knowing exactly where made your heart hammer. You were surprised Beth couldn't hear the erratic beats from your chest. You shifted in your seat, that damn spring digging into a kidney. Your fingers drummed on the glass as you desperately tried to come up with something to say. 

Anything, anything at all would progress this painful situation. 

Trying again to assure her, you attempted to keep your tone airy, but it came out more weighted than you meant, “It’s really not a big deal. I just don’t want to talk about it, not here.” You practically begged and Beth finally sat back in her side of the booth, letting out an exasperated sigh, being dramatic. 

“Fine. I'll get it out of you someday.” She concluded playfully, a smile curling her glossed lips upward. You managed a small smile in return, trying to breathe out the tension that was crawling up your spine. The weight of everything that wasn’t verbalized hung between you, and for a moment, you felt like you might suffocate under it. But you pushed it down, trying to force your mind away from Perry and Rhett.

-

Your skin was flushed and warm, buzzing with a few tequila shots. You surveyed Beth lining up her shot on the green felt of the pool table, dark brows furrowed in deadly serious concentration. Your fingers busied themselves with chalking up your wood pool stick, giggling as she stepped back once again to examine the angle of the pocket. 

“Better make this one count.” You teased with a grin, quickly pressing your lips together as she shot a glare at you, leaning down again to analyze her chances, “You're not going to blame it on the crowd this time, right?” The two of you had already shed your sweaters, the knitted tops laying side by side in a chair close. 

Beth took the shot and the cue ball connected with a clean smack, sending the blue striped ball toward the corner pocket. The two of you held your breath as it teetered on the edge, failing to fall in. 

“Your turn.” She shot you a tipsy grin and adjusted the strap on her tank top. A group of men nearby cheered at their own game, drawing Beth’s attention away from you. Walking over to the cue ball you lean in, lining up your shot. Looking up, you see him. 

The music swelled in the background, a pulsing rhythm that matched the beat of your heart. His face was still bruised from falling into the dirt, only the darkest spots shown in the dim light. You could still feel the pull of him. The same pull you felt at the rodeo, the same pull you felt six years ago. Rhett sat alone at the bar, one elbow propped up on the bar top- eyes unfocused. He wasn't looking at you. Like he was lost deep in thought, a thousand miles away. 

You studied him for a moment, wondering what he could be thinking about. Rhett was probably the same as you, a seemingly different person with so many more life experiences. An air of mystery was around him, why was he still in Wabang? 

Wasn't his dream to leave?

Without a second thought, you straightened, glancing over your shoulder to check on Beth. She was still laughing, distracted by some guy behind you, her attention far from you. Turning back to Rhett you conclude that you didn't need any more liquid courage to walk over to him, not when the three or four shots you had earlier had already spread warmth starting in your chest and traveling down your limbs, tickling your fingertips. 

You ran your tongue across the roof of your mouth, swallowing down a mixture of nerves and curiosity. You didn’t have to do this. You didn’t have to walk over. 

But then, why did it feel like the only thing you could do?

Resting your stick on the table, you tug at the hem of your shirt down to the waistband of your jeans, desperate to look somewhat put together. The motion feels useless, you’re sure you stink with sweat and your mouth tastes sour with alcohol. You would do anything for a stick of gum right about now. 

You unstick your feet from the floor, the slick wood creaking under your shoes with every unsure step and gravity truly feels like it is working against you. The space between seems to stretch impossibly long and you step on unsteady legs. 

Your shaking hands latch onto the hem of your shirt once again, as if it would anchor you to the earth. His side profile catches your eye, a strong nose sloping into delicate lips and into a stubbled jaw. 

By the time you're close enough, your feet feel like you're sloshing through mud. You’re almost there, and yet every step feels like it’s happening in slow motion. Two voices scream at you. 

Stop. Let him go. You don’t know if you can keep promises to him, you can barely keep promises to yourself.

Your head pounds and you can feel yourself wince in pain. 

Faster. Move your legs faster. You have to let him know you are here. 

But then, as if out of air, a figure materializes next to him. A dark-haired woman, laughing softly, leaning into his space.

Maria.

Stopping dead in your tracks you watch as he turns his attention to her. You suck a sharp breath through your nose, the dreamy feeling gone as you are smacked in the face with reality. It feels like a car crash. You can’t look away despite how awful the scene is. 

Why was she here? Your mind races, panic wrapping its fingers around your throat. Why is she talking to him? 

Remembering the night at the rodeo, the cheers for Rhett were loud, but Maria’s was the loudest. You can see it clear now, despite your drunken state. Her eyes were already on him in a way that made you feel invisible. 

Oh.

Brushing away hair from your face, pushing back the swell of emotion that threatened to spill over. You can't do this right now. You can't be here. So you act like you were going to get a drink all along. 

A seat at the furthest end of the bar beckons you, and running your fingers on the acrylic top once you sit down oddly grounds you. A fresh coldness in the otherwise humid room. One of the bartenders promptly shows up, fishing in the lower refrigerator for a beer. The cap popping off hisses with release, the metal cap glinting in the neon, tumbling to the floor. You watch it fall, and if you focus hard enough you swear you can hear the clink it makes as it falls to the floor. 

Faintly, you can hear their conversation. About his last ride, about Trevor, you assume Tillerson, you saw him and his light haired brothers earlier. It wasn't a full conversation, just bits and pieces you picked out. They’re talking. And you’re here alone at the end of the bar. 

Once that first sip from the glass bottle hits the back of your throat, your stomach churns. Squeezing your eyes shut you focus on your shaky breathing.

In… Nose. Out… Mouth. 

You repeat it like a mantra but the tightening in your chest isn't going away. Dizziness accompanies it, and you feel scared. You hate throwing up. In the back of your mind a voice reminds you, the bathroom is too far away. You won't make it. 

Pushing back from the bar, you practically fall out of your seat. You don't even think, just move on pure instinct. Dodging tables and people, the situation feels unreal as you wade through the muggy air. Through the tiny rectangular window of the back door, you can see the dark night sky and it offers you comfort knowing you are almost there. 

The wood door almost smacks you in the face and you stumble back. A tall woman with long blonde hair pushes past you, her belt buckle jingling as she continues behind you. Normally, you would question her hurry, why she was so quick to get inside. You could care less. 

Bursting through the front door of the bar, the cold midnight air smacks you in the face like a bucket of ice water. It’s a shockingly jarring contrast from the all over flush you were fighting against. Although your eyes are blurry with tears, you can tell there are people out here talking. 

In… Nose. Out… Mouth.

A clammy hand quickly comes to your eyes, pressing in and rubbing to rid them of the wetness threatening to spill over. 

Blinking rapidly to rid them of stars, your mouth opens in a silent gasp as you see Trevor and Perry standing nose to nose, Trevor pushing Perry and almost sending him to the ground. The shock rids you of feeling sick, breath stuttering in your chest as you stand there like a deer in the headlights. 

“How ‘bout you go inside and find Luke-”

A firm weight violently shoves your left shoulder and almost sends you tumbling, your arms flying out in front of you to keep your face far from the ground. Pain, not even alcohol could dull blossoms in your arm and upper back as you miraculously stay upright. 

“Find Luke? Fuck you, man.”

Eyes darting up again you find Rhett pushing Trevor away from Perry, holding him back from hitting his brother again. They are muttering to one another, fighting against each other's weight. Blinking, you see them on the ground, boots sliding in the gravel. Punches land and you can hear the sickening thuds of skin on skin. The metal building pricks your back with ice as you find yourself backed up against it, not remembering even picking up your feet. 

Rhett’s long hair gets in his face, chunks of it sticking to his forehead with sweat. With a final punch it sends Trevor to the ground and you stare shamelessly, stunned at his crumpled form and bleeding face caked in dust. 

Looking away into the night, you press your lips into a thin line, the sick feeling coming back. Rhett must've accidentally pushed you when he came out, remembering the throbbing pain in your shoulder. 

The air was still thick with adrenaline but it isn't until you hear the shuffling of feet and Rhett’s ragged breaths that you look back over to the scene. His body is tense and his fists are clenched at his sides, wound tight like a coil waiting to snap. Your chin dips down as he turns to Perry, and for a moment you think he’s going to grab his brother and leave. But instead his gaze finds yours, sharp and searching. Despite blurry vision you notice his eyes look over your shoulder.

Turning your head you spot Maria just outside the closed door and your heart pounds with uncertainty. Another step from Rhett has you whipping your face back to him. He was a foot or so closer and you suck your lower lip into your mouth, eyes flicking from Trevor’s bloodied form then back to him. 

“Y’alright?” His voice is quiet but gruff, shifting on his feet as he looks back at Maria, a hand coming up to push back his sweaty hair. He seemed hesitant to approach you, held back by his brother and the woman behind you. Despite a moment of hesitation -shoulder hurt, stomach sick, absolutely freezing cold- you nod, noticing how your teeth are chattering. Had they always been chattering? 

“Don't have to stay out ‘ere-” There’s tension in his voice, as if he’s toeing around an unspoken boundary and is afraid he’ll get caught, “I can walk you inside if you need.” Your mind goes blank, a faint humming between your ears. Rhett doesn't move closer as he awaits your answer, probably wishing you’d just say something. 

Perry stands in the distance, swaying as if a small breeze was pushing him around. He was looking at you but not really looking. It scared you. 

Finally, you nod again dumbly, still unsure if this is exactly what you want even as he hesitantly approaches you and places a large, warm hand on your upper back. He smells of iron, beer, and sweat but it grounded you, urging you back to your senses. A gentle pressure between your shoulder blades encourages you to turn and face Maria. Her expression is unreadable, completely absent of emotion. The two of you bypass her, the music still loud and thudding inside as if the whole ordeal outside was just a weird mirage.  

It takes you a moment to realize he is taking you to Beth, somehow already finding her through the crowd of people. 

“Wait!” Your voice sounded foreign to your ears, even startling Rhett as he stuttered to a stop, looking at you with furrowed brows. 

“You wanna go back outsi-” He starts, hand already slipping from your back to grab at your elbow to haul you out the door, presumably thinking that you were going to throw up.

“No!” You cringe as your tone sounds shrill, half-heartedly tugging against his grip. Rhett immediately drops your elbow and stares. Suddenly, you are once again reminded how big he is, expansive shoulders and long powerful legs. Butterflies kick up in your stomach as you are desperate to take in all of him. 

With a quick scan you find that Maria is nowhere near the two of you, back with her friends already. The sight reassures you, but you can feel the weight of his eyes still on you.

His hand reaches out and encloses on your bicep, steadying you- were you swaying that whole time? Embarrassment drops in your gut, your bottom lip trembling and your eyes looking at his boots. 

“I’m sorry.” You have no idea what you are apologizing for. 

Tonight when you shouted at him? Leaving him after the rodeo on Sunday? That cold night six years ago? 

A reluctant chuckle leaves his lips, a surprising noise that has you looking up at him with curiosity, “Don’t apologize,” he says, his voice low. “You’ve got nothin’ to apologize for.”

It’s such a confusing answer. So confusing you can feel your brain mentally filing it away to unpack later because you’ve already got words spilling from your mouth.

“I don’t know what I’m doing.” You admit in a small voice, barely above a whisper. “I don’t know how to deal with... all of this.” Your dad, Rhett, the bloody man outside… there were too many things you could be referencing. But Rhett just nods, letting a small sigh through his nose and you can feel it across your cheeks. 

“Gimmie your keys, do you have ‘em?” He asks and you nod, fishing around your front pockets and plopping them in his open palm. You watch as his calloused fingers curl around them, “Where’s your friend?”

Looking around him it takes no time to spot her, sitting in a booth with that guy from earlier, her phone pulled out as she shows him something, “There-” you point to her and his gaze follows your finger, “in that booth with the guy in the green.” 

Rhett hums and his hand resumes its place between your shoulder blades, pressing you forward.

Beth’s eyes light up as soon as you near but drop as she sees Rhett close behind.

“Something wrong?” Beth cocks her head and looks between the two of you, starting to get up.

“Y’ sober?” Rhett asks and she scoffs, crossing her arms and tipping her chin up to look at him, “If you're asking if I can drive, yes I can.” She responds, her eyes narrowing the tiniest bit. You hate people talking about you like you weren't there, but your lips were glued shut. 

“Hey- not tryin’ to start trouble. Just makin’ sure she gets home safe.” Rhett puts his hands up in surrender and you can hear your keys jingle together as they are pinched between his forefinger and thumb. Beth bites her lower lip and grabs the keys from him and in the same breath grabs your hand and pulls you towards her. 

You stumble like a ragdoll, whining as your hurt shoulder twinges. Turning, you watch Rhett bite the inside of his cheek and tip his head towards you before turning around and leaving. 

It was an anticlimactic end to the night, Beth muttering in your ear how the two of you should just leave. Nodding, you hold on to her arm as you gather your things. At her car, you look over at your own. 

“Shit, what should I do? I dont have clothes to change into.” 

“Call in, stay at my place until you're feelin’ better.” Beth shugs and hops in her car. 

You do the same and rest your head against the window as she drives. It vibrates your skull and shuts out the voices talking over themselves.

See me on AO3 as Creatchie8 too for a full list of tags & more!

Tag List: @keepingitlokiii

[atisecnom]

"Baby tu ere'... mi favorita" ♡

Characters : Cho hyun-ju (Squidgames 2), f!reader

Warnings : ready has hair and can be picked up, fluff, kissing and cuddling and clinging, let me know if I missed anything

Sum : A regular night and morning with your wife, Hyun-ju ♡

You and your wife lay on the couch. It's about 8:30pm. Your face is pressed against against her chest, your cheek squished against the fabric of her shirt. Your arm is wrapped around her waist tightly, your leg hooked on top of hers; her arm lay around your neck, her legs also tangled with yours. Her hand plays with your hair as she watches some show on the TV, the only light in the room coming from a small, dim lamp on the coffee table next to the couch and the kitchen in the next room over.

Hyun-ju looks down at you, your eyes fighting off sleep, trying to savor the physical contact between you two. "Baby?" She says softly. "Hm?" You hum and look up at her, meeting her eyes, which were noticeably just as tired as yours were. "You're falling asleep. Are you sure you don't want to go to bed? I can carry you there." You simply reply by holding her tighter- keeping her in place- and shaking your head no and going back to pressing your cheek against her chest. Hyun-ju let's out a breathy laugh and holds you just as tight as you are. "The bed is much more comfortable than the couch. Cmon." She softly eggs on, petting your hair as she speaks.

"If we move, I won't find this same position of comfort again," you frown. "I'm sure you will," Hyun-ju replies and gives your head a kiss. You shake your head no again and stay put. She sighs, but not in an annoyed way. You continue to tap your finger against her back at the same rhythm as her heartbeat; she continues to play with your hair, switching from playing with loose strands to simply petting it.

Your wife notices the taps against her back getting more and more weak; your falling asleep. She turns off the TV. "Honey," she whispers to you. You don't reply, you just look up at her, your eyes droopy. "I'm bringing you to bed," she says, sighing when she feels your grip on her waist tighten even more. "No, I'm bringing you to bed [nickname]" Hyun-ju says with authority, but no harsh in her tone. You groan but don't fight back as she sits up and picks you up bridalstyle. She walks over to your shared bedroom and places you on the bed.

"I'll be back," she says, kissing your head, and leaves you on the bed to go to the bathroom. You groan and wake up at the loss of contact. After a while, Hyun-ju comes back and gets into bed next to you. You turn to her and immediately cling to her as she puts the blanket over you two. She kisses your head as you cling onto her, your head back to resting on her chest. "I love you..." I mutter out, barely audible. Hyun-ju smiles down at you. "I love you too," she replies with a kiss to your forehead. You look up at her and she leans in and kisses your lips softly. She plays with the ring on her finger, feeling the coldness of yours pressed against her back as you hold her. "Goodnight, baby," Hyun-ju says against your lips. "Goodnight, pretty," you reply, going back to using her chest as a pillow.

Hyun-ju holds you tightly against herself, slowly drifting to sleep for the night, burying her face in your hair.

♡♡♡

When you wake up- like usual- Hyun-ju isn't there. You're always the one to wake up last, Hyun-ju always waking up at 6am. Whether the reason being to go run errands, go to the gym, or simply to cook and clean, she always wakes up early; you wake up hours after her. You get up from the bed and drag your feet across the floor to where you hear noise from- the kitchen. Hyun-ju is in the kitchen, over the stove, making breakfast for the two. "Good morning, baby" she says without looking up at you. "Hmmm..." you hum and go behind her, hugging her waist and resting your head on her back. Hyun-ju leans against the hug, smiling.

"How are you?" She asks softly. "Mhm..." you reply, still half awake; with bed head still, drool dried up on the corner of your mouth, eyes heavy, your tangtop weirdly shifted on you, your shorts a bit pulled down. "You look beautiful," Hyun-ju says. "You're beautiful," you reply. "Thank you, honey," she smiles. "Go get ready for the day, you said you had errands to run today. We need to get to the store before all the people flock in," she explains. "Okay mom," you groan sarcastically, peeling yourself away from her and dragging your feet back to the room. Hyun-ju laughs at your sarcasm and continues cooking.

fter a bit, you come back with your makeup and hair done, with your outfit of the day. Hyun-ju looks at you as she finishes the cooking and smiles, "You look pretty." "Thank you baby, you too," you smile, fully awake now. You walk up to her and kiss her for the first time this morning. You wrap your arms around her neck, your hands on your waist. You two keep kissing, your lipgloss/stick smudging onto her lips. You pull away and smile and Hyun-ju looks down at you.

"Cmon let's go eat," she whispers, your face still close to hers. "Why don't I eat you instead?" You reply and Hyun-ju rolls her eyes. She kisses your head and places her hand on your lower back, gently guiding you to the dining table. You sit at the table, your wife sitting next to you and serving your plate. "Thank you, bombon" you kiss Hyun-jus cheek. In return, she kisses your lips. Your head rests on her shoulder as you two eat, enjoying the start of your day with your beautiful wife.

Sorry it's short 😖😖😖😖

I'm tired it's late

[muzansfangs]

What about some hc of Aizen as a dad of a girl? Maybe a human au?

Aizen as a father of a little girl.

Starring: Aizen Sosuke x f!reader; Aizen Sosuke x f!child;

Format: head canons;

Warnings: fluff, mention to unprotected sex, parenthood, modern au, pregnacy, married couple dynamics, overprotective Aizen;

Plot: how would Aizen take care of your child? How does he act around her? Is he a strict parent? Does he spoil his child the same way he spoils you, his wife? How did he treat you during the pregnacy?

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

• It all started when he came back from work on a rainy monday evening. You had been feeling sick, as of late. The persistent nausea and your mood swings were absolutely driving you mad. He had never left your side, not even when you woke up in the middle of the night and dashed to the bathroom to puke in the toilet. He was there, drawing soothing circles on your back, helping you to clean up and wash your teeth. He was kind of worried at first, but he was not exactly aloof from taking the hints of what was happening. He had figured it out after the first days, while holding you in his arms, as you rested peacefully. You were pregnant for sure. How could you not be, when you indulged into steamy activities without protection?

• When you had showed him a pregnacy test signaling that you were indeed pregnant, Aizen Sosuke grinned. You two had made it. You were the mother of his child.

• He took so much care of you. You had always been his soft spot, his weakness, but he became a little overprotective of you. He was not even ashamed of showing affection for you in front of yours hosts, or your family, or during social events. You and the small creature in your womb were his priority. Breakfast in bed, cuddles, midnight drives to the grocery stores or fastfood to make sure your cravings were always satisfied and kisses on your belly were such a treat coming from him.

• “Rest, love. I will take care of it” had become his favorite thing to say, when your stomach grew round. You were treated like a porcelain doll between the seventh and ninth month of pregnacy. It had to be expected, even from someone as stoic and cunning and Aizen Sosuke himself.

• The moment you gave birth, the second a nurse nestled a small little girl in his arms, he saw you in her. His heart throbbed as he delicately held her in his arms. It was such an unrealistic sight to see him in a suit, his hair disheveled, necktie loosened, as he let the newborn girl grip his index. A small smile tugged on his lips as he sat next to you and kissed your forehead. He was going to take care of you two.

• Albeit it was actually stressful getting used to the baby rhythm at first, he did not mind being the one to stand up in the middle of the night to check on your daughter and bring her to you for letting you feed her. As you did that, droopy eyes softening while the tiny girl drank her milk, Sosuke let you rest your back against his chest and made sure you did not fall asleep.

• The little girl easily became his pride and joy. He showed her off, wherever you two decided to go, or when you dropped by his office with your daughter.

• “She’s going to lead this Company one day. Get used to it” Sosuke half-joked, hinting at the small baby in your arms.

• “Of course she’s beautiful. She looks like her mother” he whispered, when someone praised the baby’s beauty. Your heart flattered.

• When the girl grew up, Sosuke made sure she attended the best schools in town. Paying for her studies, even buying her the best clothes from luxurious brands, ending up spoiling her, was part of his plan. She deserved the best after all.

• But while he was glad she attended a ballet school and piano, or violin lessons, Sosuke had a thing for fencing. Therefore, he made sure to teach her how to wield a sword.

• “Mommy, dad taught me something today! Did he ever tell you what to do when an enemy is down?” your daughter once told you, as you were making dinner. You were tired from a long day of work too and he was on a phone call in the living room.

• Quirking your eyebrows up and shrugging, you glanced down at her with a curious smile “No, baby, what did he teach you? I’m sure he told you to help them up, right?” you casually said, grasping a cutting board from the counter. Her answer made you choke.

• “No! He told me to kick them twice in the guts!” she chimed happily, before running back to her bedroom to play. Oh, you needed to have a small talk with your dear husband.

• “Sosuke Aizen, come here!”.

• He tried to obviously make it up to you in bed that night, silently showering you in affection as he whispered in your ear how beautiful you were and that maybe it was time you two made a brother or a sister to your daughter.

• He was protective of her, always watching over her as a guardian more than a father, and when you two accompanied her to a birthday party of her classmate, Sosuke almost fainted at the sight of the birthday boy kissing her cheek. His grip on your hand tightened and you could not help yourself but chuckle.

• The day she introduced you two to her first boyfriend, Sosuke stared deep into his eyes. While you were talking to your now seventeen years old girl in the kitchen, and her boyfriend was alone in the living room with Sosuke, he seraphically smiled at him.

• “Break her heart and I’ll break your legs” he chortled, making the boy stiffen and chuckle softly. But, deep down, you knew he meant every word he had said

AUTHOR NOTE.

Hi there! If I told you I did not have fun writing this, I would be a liar. Lmfao, I love the concept of dad Aizen. Let me know what you think about it! Likes, comments and re-posts are appreciated.

Until next,

x o x o

TAGS: @aizenwifey @stygianoir @electronicwitchcollection

[hanniebread]

what comes must go. yoon jeonghan

warnings. mentions of tuberculosis as well as terminal cancer, bittersweet sort of ending, kind of angsty and sad.

wc. 1.9k

an. i wrote this in thirty minutes while listening to radiohead so it's pretty meh, but i wanted to post it regardless lol. also i'm really nervous to put this out there because i've never actually published anything before so i genuinely have no clue if this is even worth posting or not... please try to enjoy regardless umm thats all

everything happens for a reason. over time jeonghan had grown to be painfully aware of that fact, being fed the phrase on a silver platter by his mother throughout his entire life. everything has it’s own purpose, and once it’s done serving it, it goes on to be something more important–something more solemn and dignified.

when a tree dies, it weeps sap before finally resting; though it’s slumber isn’t eternal, as it goes on to become a life source for those around it. some trees take on different purposes, falling to the ground to create a new path for living creatures that may wander towards it. a tree laying over a river to become a bridge is the same as a tree that spreads it’s roots into the ground to become a mother.

in fifth grade, jeonghan’s hamster died. his mother broke the news to him–though she didn’t tell him directly, making up some excuse about his pet going on an adventure to explore that of which he hadn’t had the opportunity to see while he was living in a cage. 

he figured out what really happen two years later, now being old enough to truly grasp the concept of death, though he didn’t shed any tears. jeonghan figured that since everything has a purpose, there must’ve been a reason behind his beloved pets death. there had to be an ulterior outcome, something that let to a happier ending instead of the despondency and disconsolateness you’d feel when envisioning death. it took him a while, but he’d forced himself to accept the fact that he’d never know the real reason, because what comes must go.

in eight grade, just before he’d be sent off to a prestigious high school, jeonghan fell ill with tuberculosis. everything he’d worked for, the education he’d craved throughout his entire life, had been stripped from his hands and thrown out the window with one examination. when the doctors informed him of this, he almost didn’t believe it. everything had gone so well for him, and he’d worked to keep it that way--yet when he reached his highest, he was dropped to his lowest within just a few seconds. 

he found himself unable to grasp the notion, though he knew it was more than that by now, it was his new reality. throughout the healing process, he found himself asking: was god punishing him for being happy? was this meant to happen? did this have a reason behind it? 

by the time jeonghan had become well enough to go home, he’d already missed his entire ninth grade year, shifting into the next without experiencing any of it. he’d recovered well, though he was still too weak to go off to the school he’d imagined himself in since he’d picked up a flier as a child, the school he’d earned the right to attend. he spent his days homeschooling from his bedroom, his eyes becoming droopy and devoid of any light they’d held previously. though he found it challenging to stay optimistic, he remained hopeful–because what comes must go. he knew his pain would leave him, and he knew there had to be a reason behind his suffering. everything happens for a reason. 

in twelfth grade, jeonghan had made a full recovery, and attended  his senior year at school in person. he found himself thinking back to the three years he’d spent by himself, and his chest swelled with gratitude; despite all of the damage it’d done in the moment, he realized that everything he’d gone through had built him into something stronger than he was before. when he was handed his diploma, he realized his mother was right. 

when jeonghan turned nineteen, he began attending harvard. he found himself surrounded by groups of amazing people, his mood almost never dropping–which was a huge contrast to how he’d behaved just years prior. he’d smiled wider than he knew was possible, and though he didn’t want to, in the moment he couldn’t help but remember: everything that comes must go. 

when jeonghan turned twenty, he met you. your presence felt like a breath of fresh air, something that made him forget about the past and the future, allowing him to just live in the moment. as he got to know you, he’d found himself appreciating things around him more than he realized was possible, cherishing every moment for what it was instead of thinking about what it’d be when it became nothing but a memory.

when jeonghan turned twenty-one, he fell for you. loving you came easy, becoming something he’d do subconsciously, almost as if devoting himself to you was as simple as breathing. he found himself behaving as if he was a teenage boy again, giggling at the mere thought of you. he brought you flowers, ones he didn’t even know existed until he’d gone on a tangent trying to find flowers that perfectly suited you, to which he decided were red carnations. 

confessing to you was nothing short of undemanding. he found himself telling you how he felt as if he was stating the obvious, as if it was something so undeniable and simple that you’d have no reason to question it. he spoke the words "i love you." in such a way that it was on par with "i'm alive right now." – something so matter-of-fact that it came straight from his heart and fell right out of his lips. when you’d accepted his feelings, and even returned them, he felt as if he’d just won the lottery. that day he decided he’d live life without worries, letting himself be happy no matter what. living would be easy for him, as long as he had you. 

when jeonghan turned twenty-two, you told him you had terminal cancer.

suddenly, the phrase he’d lived by made no sense to him. everything happens for a reason? that had to be a complete lie. he thought back to what he’d always told himself, ‘everything that comes must go’, and in the moment the phrase felt like a punch to a gut rather than a subconscious reminder. he didn't want you to go, he didn’t want it to happen–and instantaneously, he felt like a child again; like a child battling their own emotions, ones which they can’t control or understand. that day, jeonghan cried himself unconscious. 

it was nothing new that loving you came easy, but loving you on borrowed time felt more tortuous than enjoyable. he tried his best to ignore the fact that your light wouldn’t stay aflame for much longer, but the thought lingered in the back of his head with every glance he took. 

when you were hospitalized, jeonghan visited you every day. he spent every second he could by your side, talking to you, clinging on to the idea that maybe–just maybe you could hear him. he knew this day was approaching rapidly, he knew that you didn’t have much time left, yet every night when he left the hospital, he went home and prayed. he prayed harder than he ever had before, harder than when he attended church every weekend as a child, harder than he had when his mother told him that his father had gotten into a car crash, he prayed until his hands were sore and red from squeezing each other. 

the day before you died, jeonghan brought you red carnations. he’d always visited with flowers, which meant that your hospital room was nearly flooded with them; but he’d never had time to stop and get the ones he truly believed you deserved. anything other than this felt shallow and generic, but he couldn’t explain why. perhaps it was because carnations were the flowers he’d associated with you all this time, it’d become his way of expressing his love to you when you weren’t able to tell him you felt the same anymore. 

on the day that you died, jeonghan felt as if a piece of him had died along with you. nothing could put into words how it felt as he held your hands, which had slowly become cold; his eyes stinging as tears pooled in his eyes and fell on to your empty, unmoving chest.

jeonghan missed you so much it was unbearable. sometimes he’d be so overwhelmed with sadness and grief it felt as if he was going to die, his chest burning as he struggled to breathe. there was no way in hell that this happened for a reason. his mother was wrong, everyone was wrong, everything he lived by was wrong, and he felt so lost that it made him question if he should even seek out help anymore.

the first time jeonghan visited your grave, it was on his twenty-third birthday. he tried to enjoy the day with his friends, which had also been your friends at some point, but he found himself wanting nothing more than to spend the day with you, even if it meant he’d really be by himself. he felt more guilt than he’d imagined as he realized how long he’d waited to visit you, though he knew it wasn’t for the wrong reasons. as jeonghan sat next to your grave, he let himself cry again, the only thing comforting him being the thought that you were there with him. he knew that he had to accept your death eventually, and that nothing in this universe could bring you back, because everything that comes must go. 

that day, jeonghan brought you pink carnations. 

healing wasn’t an easy process, and it didn’t get easier as he progressed in life without you. when jeonghan turned twenty-four, he rented out his first house with a friend you both shared. he adopted a cat, cut his hair, and tried his best to become a new version of him. though it was hard, and he viewed it as nearly impossible, he didn’t give up. despite how cliche and foolish it may sound, he knew you wouldn’t have wanted him to. 

jeonghan knew he’d never think the same after you passed, and that proved to be true. he didn’t blame his mother, he’d never truly blame her, but he found himself so overwhelmed by his feelings that he didn’t know exactly who to point fingers at. in all honesty, if he opened his eyes, he knew that he’d find it to be nobodies fault. “some things just happen,” seungkwan had told him the day he’d cried to his best friend on the couch they’d bought together only recently, his chest heavy with guilt. “whether or not they happen for a reason doesn’t matter, what matters is that you make the best of the situation and enjoy what you have while you have it.” 

spring rolled around quickly. when jeonghan had moved into his new house, he’d noticed small buds of flowers by his window, resting unborn and full of potential as they stared at him, almost expectantly. he didn’t mind, because maybe they’d grow to be something beautiful, something full of life for as long as it’d be alive. maybe they were there for a reason, one he was yet to find out. the thought made a bud of hope blossom in his chest, one much like the dormant flowers sitting almost next to him.

a week later, they blossomed into white carnations; and jeonghan allowed himself to cry once more. he knew they’d close up eventually, retreating back into their shells as the seasons changed, but he found himself thinking: ‘maybe that’s okay. they’re here right now, and that’s all that matters.’

he didn’t let it trouble him, because what comes must go–and if he’s lucky enough, maybe it’ll come back around. 

[dizzycloudzzz]

Beta Huntlow

Headcanons ²

*equivalent to the first season, each one from one side of the story (golden guard YAY x chaotic criminal rebel YAY) that occasionally meets

Both too stubborn to give in in an argument or ideal, they'll never admit that they have ANYTHING in common

But curreeently they have a lot of similar things: musical taste, culinary taste, literary taste, basically the same person ☠️ which is pretty weird since Willow was under the culture of the human realm and Hunter was under the demon realm's most of his life, but it's like both Luz and Amity knowing Azura's book

Except for the styles, he's the little prince totally dolled up who spends hours polishing his armor and have clothes selected by other people of course, she's emo and wears the first thing she sees in the closet. Willow's comfortable with herself and Hunter is desperately trying to cover up his messy interior

Hunter as a golden guard here doesn't wear a mask, he's the FACE of the emperor's coven, so Willow can come to an agreement with herself that he's pretty, Hunter can also agree, he also thinks himself is pretty (ok ok let's hypothetically say he has a crush on people with glasses named Willow, just a coincidence

The two doubt each other's intelligence a lot and end up acting like fools falling into the traps of their own ego, they're better in this regard when they rarely and unwillingly work together, two heads think better than just one in the end

The evolution of cute names: "Mistress Park" and "Whatever-his-name" -> "Dear Wilsy/Sweet Low" and "Golden guy" -> "Will" and "Hunt"

Willow knows his weaknesses, she uses the most cowardly of all against him............ compare him to a D O G. blindly loyal and following an owner who offers treats or approval pats if he does a few tricks. GOLDEN RETRIEVER!!!!! did u guys know that she gave him a cute dog collar as a gift? I think it's so rude that he never used it (I like to say as if everything is canonical 'cause in my mind it is). she calls him whistling and he goes to her with droopy ears only to say he's NOT a dog and then he leaves again, with a dramatic movement of his cape

Hunter's secret identity (WHO IS ThE MOST REBEL NOW, WITCHES!!!!!) flirts shamelessly with Willow, she knows it's him. why he's so dumb. his mask (NOW he uses) didn't disguise voice. "Caleb Jasper Bloodwilliams" here was his escape from the coven stuff, just being free and without responsibilities for a few hours, but it ended up becoming a little too "against the coven" when he discovered some things

"you can let me pay, it's just a kindness between old friends, don't worry" Hunter said and in the next day, while he was receiving a very direct death threat "YOU OWE ME ONE, I BOUGHT YOU COFFEE AND YOU THANK ME LIKE THAT??". a little emotional manipulation on both sides, how romantic 🥰

introverts who communicate telepathically with nods of the head. while everyone was in Grom they were outside just stopping arguing for a moment and enjoying each other's company 🥺:

"even if it's not the beeest thing in the world, it's what we have for today apparently..."

"who said it's not the best thing in the world for me? I'm having fun, currently. you're not that bad"

"wha- but I like that too! I don't mean- I just thought you wouldn't- don't laugh at me, that's shameful now..."

"first time with a girl?"

"I TALK WITH GIRLS ALL THE TIME, OKAY????

"poor them"

[burnedxpoet]

Nobody's Son, Nobody's Daughter

Read it on ao3.

TW: drxg useage, alcohol consumption, kissing, light dirty talk

Fourteen.

Six days. Six fucking days since I’ve kissed Sebastian. Well, a little more than kissing. We made out. A lot. But that’s as far as it went and when dawn started to creep over the mountain peak, we stopped and went back inside like nothing happened. We haven’t talked about it. Maybe it was just a spur of the moment thing. Maybe it doesn’t need to be talked about. We still hung out of course but it was like it had never happened. I’ve never felt this way about someone before, how do I bring it up without freaking him out? It would have to wait though as we were celebrating Abby’s twenty-first birthday today. The four of us were supposed to take another trip out to the city to celebrate but Caroline sprung a last minute birthday dinner on Abby so we’re going to hang out at Sebastian’s again and chill.

“If I have to hang out with my parents beforehand, then I just wanna relax,” I remember Abby saying. It was decently sunny out today with a light breeze so I was wearing a dark red sundress and a cream colored cardigan to cover my shoulders. I tied a cute little bow on the wicker basket that held a blackberry cobbler and a monster compendium. I planned on dropping it off at the Pierre’s because cobbler tastes best fresh out of the oven anyway. As I’m about to head into town, Abby bursts into the farm house.

“Hey, I was just about to go see you,” I say while tucking the basket behind my back.

“They are driving me insane!” Abby says as she sits down at my kitchen table, clearly talking about Pierre and Caroline. “I’m twenty-one! I finish school next year, I don’t understand why they insist on treating me like a child!” She buries her head in her arms and I slowly set the basket down on the table. She lifts her head up from the table ever so slightly and asks, “is this for me?”

“Happy twenty-first!” I exclaim while going into the fridge. I was gonna save this bottle of mead for later but Abby seems like she could use a drink now.

“Aw black berry cobbler! I knew something smelled good when I walked it. Oh!” She takes out the book and hugs it, “how did you know I’ve been looking for this?” she asked while smiling like a child on Feast of the Winter Star.

“I had a hunch,” I say as I set the mead down on the table and grab two wine glasses. I pour the mead half way into the glasses and we sip and talk until the sun starts to set. “Hey, Abby, what time was your birthday dinner supposed to be?” She looks up at me with droopy eyes.

“I think eight? No-seven… What time is it now?” she giggles and I lift up the empty bottle of mead. Oh shit. I glance at the time on my phone and it’s six o’clock.

“Fuck,” I stand up and take my phone off the table. I excuse myself into the bedroom and call Sam. In college, I could finish a bottle of wine or mead in a day with no issues. I should’ve taken into consideration that Abby, being freshly twenty-one, is probably a lightweight.

“Hello?” Sam answers.

“Hey so, we have a bit of a predicament,” I say.

“Predicament? What do you mean?”

“Well, you know how I was gonna bring over that bottle of mead for Abby’s birthday later?”

“…Yea.”

“I think you should just come over. Is Sebastian with you? Bring him.” I hang up before Sam can ask more questions. I go back into the kitchen and give Abby a glass of water. I also made her eat the now cold blackberry cobbler. Literally giving her anything that would soak up the alcohol in her stomach. Sebastian and Sam arrive a little later.

“Look, it's my friendssss!” Abby exclaimed. I give the two boys a weak smile and they shake their heads.

“You dumbass,” Sam says to me as he sits next to Abby, “you were supposed to save that bottle for all of us!”

“I know!” I say, “it’s just, she came over, and I figured it wouldn’t hurt to crack it open. I didn’t think we’d finish the bottle…” I sheepishly look down at the floor. Sebastian sits down next to Sam.

“Abby’s a lightweight, you didn’t know,” he says.

“Mom’s getting take outttt,” Abby says in a sing-song tone.

“I thought your mom was making dinner?” I ask her.

“Mom hates cooking. I don’t know why she made a big fuss over a birthday dinner,” she sighs. An idea came to mind and I start pulling out ingredients from the fridge.

“What are you doing, farmer?” Sam asks while patting Abigail’s back. Her head rests on his shoulder and she takes a swig of some water.

“If I make Pierre and Caroline dinner, maybe they won’t care if Abby doesn’t show up for dinner?” I suggested while pulling out tuna that I had filleted earlier as well as octopus tentacles I had also cut up.

“Gross, Farmer, you just keep that in your fridge?” Sam asks while holding his nose.

“Hey man, I caught an octopus. What else am I supposed to do with it?” I ask while dumping oil into a pot and sticking a thermometer in it. As the oil heats up, I throw the tuna into a different pan and start searing it.

“Didn’t realize you’re quite the cook, Farmer,” Sebastian says from behind me. I shrug and look over my shoulder.

“Who else was gonna cook for my sister? Seb, could you get Abby some more water?” I turn my attention back to chopping up cabbage then coating the octopus in flour. Sebastian places a hand on the small of my back while he moves around me to fill up Abby’s water from the sink. My skin tingles at his touch. The Taco was the easiest to make. Sear the tuna, spread the mayo on the tortilla, then add the cabbage and tuna. I take the basket off the table and add the tacos in there.

“You’ve gotten very cottage-core these last couple of months,” Sam says. I hear an affirming “mm” from Abby, signaling to me that she got her water.

“I guess so,” I say while dropping the flour coated octopus into the oil, “I grow my own produce, raise my own animals, and am essentially living off the land besides the occasional thing I’ll buy at Pierre’s.”

“You have two chickens and a duck,” Sebastian says, “is that raising your own animals?”

“I’ve had them since they were chicks!” I say while facing them and leaning my hip against the counter, “I’m also thinking about getting a rabbit.”

“Awwww so cute!” Abby says, sobering up a little bit. I checked the oil temperature one more time.

“Then I’ll be making my own clothes, how's that for cottage-core?” I laugh and scoop out the now fried octopus onto some paper towels and pat them dry.

“Well, what I was going to say before Seb started teasing you, is that you look happy,” Sam says as I assemble the basket, making everything look nice for Caroline and Pierre. Compared to when I first moved here, I am a lot happier. My only issue is getting my sister away from Dad. I had a feeling that he’s going to try and sink his claws into her though.

“I need you boys to take Abby back to Sebastian’s. I’m gonna drop these off and play dumb, sounds good?” The guys nod and Abby smiles into Sam’s shoulder.

“Thanks guys, I didn’t want to eat Gus’ spaghetti again.” They left and took the shortcut up the mountain while I made my way into town. If my calculations are correct, a nice gesture should make the couple forget about their, now drunk, daughter. I mean when I first met Pierre he couldn’t even remember how old Abby was. I enter their home above the shop and the two of them are sitting in front of the fireplace sipping tea.

“Hi Farmer,” Caroline says, “what brings you here?” I place the basket down beside them.

“I was fishing earlier and I made some calamari and fish tacos. Gus told me they were your favorites!” I say, giving them a simple smile and also hoping that they wouldn’t see right through me. Gus didn’t tell me directly about their favorite foods, I might have been eavesdropping at the saloon yesterday while talking to Shane.

“Oh this is wonderful! Now I don’t have to cook,” Caroline laughs.

“Speaking of,” says Pierre, “have you seen Abby?” I shrug.

“She might be at Sebastian’s. I was just on my way over there,” I say, batting my eyelashes, smiling and giggling, doing everything to make myself look as innocent as possible.

“Will you tell her that dinner’s canceled?” Caroline asks, “we’ll take her out another time. All that produce you’ve been selling to us has been making us money!”

“That’s wonderful! I do have to go though, they’re probably waiting for me,” I say and turn to leave, “I’ll see you soon!” They say goodbye and thank me for the dinner and as soon as I exit the store, I exhale. I thank Yoba all the way to Sebastian’s place. I’m greeted by Robin when I walk in through the front door.

“How’s that coop holding up? I think it’s some of my best work,” she says proudly. I agree and get to chatting with her. “You know, Sebby helps me with my work sometimes,” she says.

“I didn’t know,” I say, trying hard not to picture Sebastian swinging an axe over his head with his shirt off and his sweat glistening. I didn’t need another fantasy to push down like the one time I caught him working on his bike outside. Shirt off, skin covered in soot and oil, tattoos practically begging me to lick them. If I were smarter I would say that she’s doing this on purpose. As Robin goes to open her mouth to say something about Sebastian helping her with her carpentry, I feel a calloused hand on my wrist and a soft yank.

“No more stories, Mother!” Sebastian yells as he drags me down the stairs to his bedroom. I look back at Robin as her son drags me away and she giggles. She’s definitely doing it on purpose but not to tease me. I look down at Sebastian’s hand around my wrist. His slender fingers with the different black and silver rings on them, his manicure fresh with black nail polish with a glossy finish. I used my other hand to cover the blush creeping up onto my face. No way. No fucking way. I know we kissed and everything but what am I supposed to do with this information? When we enter his bedroom, Abby is laying down on Sebastian’s bed, curled in the fetal position, watching anime. Sam is sitting at the tea table with a can of beer in front of him, a joint between his two fingers, and a handful of cards.

“Are you watching the Ghost Stories dub?” I ask, referring to the anime.

“Huh? Oh yea! It’s a classic. Figured it would keep her entertained while she keeps sobering up,” Sebastian says and gestures over to Abby, glued to his tv.

“Well if you’re gonna stand behind me, stand closer I can’t feel it. And they wonder why I like black men!” the tv says and Abby bursts into a fit of giggles. I laugh at her giggles, knowing exactly what episode she’s on.

“Do you watch anime?” Sebastian asks as I sit down with them, he deals me a couple of cards.

“Just finished the last season of Demon Slayer. The movie is going to be so devastating,” I say as Sam hands me the joint.

“That’s Sebby’s favorite,” Sam says through a fit of coughs. I inhale and let the weed fill my lungs.

“Oh?” I sigh the weed out of my lungs. If there’s a way I could test my little theory, this would be it. “I used to cosplay as Kanroji.” I scroll through the photos on my phone as one of them coughs, like their choking. I hold the joint out for someone to take it as I keep scrolling and scrolling.

“That's- OW,” Sam says as I finally find the picture, I make eye contact with Sebastian as I show him the picture and his face turns a blush pink. But that could mean anything right? I mean the cosplay was pretty revealing…

“I used to have the best costumes for Spirits Eve,” I say with a sigh while taking my phone back.

“Wait wait,” Sam says while grabbing my phone, “where’s the snake guy?”

“Iguro?” Sebastian and I ask at the same time.

“Yea! I see a lot of people who dress like them together,” Sam says while giving me my phone back. I shrug.

“I’ve never had a boyfriend before.” The room falls silent and even Abby is paying attention to our conversation now. “Okay geez,” I say,

“I didn’t realize that was the equivalent of killing somebody.”

“Really? Like no heartbreak that caused you to hoe around?” Abby asks and I snap my heart around.

“Okay, rude! I didn’t need a reason to hoe around, I just liked sex okay?”

“No, no. Her trauma is what caused her to hoe around like that,” Sam says.

“When did this become a therapy session?” I ask while snatching the joint out of Sam’s hands.

“If I dated someone it meant I would have to bring them home to my dad. It’s not that deep, I just didn’t want someone to get that close to me,” I say while puffing the joint.

“Oh Farmer,” Sam says and opens his arms to hug me. I push his forehead back with my palm and continue to smoke the joint.

“It’s not a big deal!” I say, struggling to keep him back. Sebastian starts laughing, harder than I had ever heard him laugh before. He takes the joint out of my hand and smokes it.

“You,” he points at Abby, “sober the fuck up and watch tv. If you wanna drink with us again, figure out how to keep up without getting trashed.” Abby curls back up on Sebastian’s bed.

“Yea, Yea,” she mutters, knowing that he’s right.

“And tell the Farmer thank you for getting you out of that stupid family dinner,” he continues.

“Thank you, Farmer,” she says barely above a whisper.

“And Sam,” Sebastian continues, “if you want to play therapist then go to fucking college.” Sam opens his mouth to speak but decides against it and hands me an unlit joint instead. I thank him and light it.

“Farmer,” he says while putting out the old joint, “what are you going for Spirits eve this year?”

“All my old costumes are in the city and I’ve been so busy this year, I think I’m just gonna go as a devil,” I say, “what about you?” I ask him.

“If you’ll go as a devil, I’ll be an angel,” he says. I laugh at the thought of him in white and gold instead of his black and silver. He pouts and I try to calm myself down. “Damn, after all that defending I did for you,” he huffs and snatches the joint away from me again. “You’re cut off.”

#

Sam had left with Abby a few minutes ago. He had to get up early for work and we all agreed it looked better for her to come home late than to stay the night at Sebastian’s. Sam offered to walk me home too but Sebastian insisted that he would. I’ve come to the conclusion from his reaction to my cosplay, the little stories that Robin will tell me, from the hints that Sam gives him when they think I’m not looking. He definitely thinks I’m pretty. But I can’t understand why it’s so hard for my brain to comprehend that he might like me back. Because why would he? I have sexual experience but anything romantic I’m blind to. There were people who wanted something more from me besides sex but the thought of bringing them home to Dad made me sick and there have been people I’ve wanted more from than just sex from but I don’t think they saw me as dateable. I shiver as we walk the shortcut back to the farm.

“Cold?” Sebastian asks and before I can answer he pulls off his hoodie and gives it to me. I put it on while admiring the way his t-shirt sleeves hugged his shoulders and biceps. His hoodie was a little oversized on me and engulfed me in his scent. Cigarettes, wood shavings, oil, a bit of sweat, and some faint cologne. If they could bottle this up and sell it, I would lose all my money. We walk in silence for a bit but I decide that I have to know what that kiss was about.

“About the other day,” I start, “was that just spur of the moment or…” Sebastian laughs and digs his hands into his jean pockets.

“Oh Yoba, it definitely wasn’t spur of the moment for me. You know how hard I had to work up the courage to even touch you? Thanks for bringing it up though, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about it,” he says.

“...You…You wanted to kiss me?” I blush but hope the darkness hides it.

“Of course I did! I’m thinking about attacking those pink plump lips right now. Obviously you’ve seen how I act around you, right?” He laughs again, “you really are dense, huh Farmer?”

“You gotta spell it out for me,” I say as we walk over the highway. I knew what he was saying but I wanted him to say it out loud. Lips, teeth, tongue, vocal chords, I need him to say it.

“I’ve been thinking about how sweet you might taste since the day I met you.” I wasn’t expecting that. In that moment, I felt the lust pour out of my body but it didn’t feel like I needed to fill something. It felt like I needed to have something.

“I said spell it out. That was the whole fucking alphabet,” I say while picking up my walking pace. Teasing him. That’s all I could think to do. If you truly want me, come get me. I could see him coming for me out of the corner of my eye so I picked up my pace but he grabbed me by my waist, fingers gripping into the fabric of my dress, and I felt my feet lift off the ground. In one swoop I’m suddenly sitting on his shoulder, his arm wrapped over my lap. He looks up at me with a soft smile and once I realize I’m fully off the ground and he’s not putting me down anytime soon, I wrap my arm around his neck. “W…What?”

“Sleeper build baby,” he says as we get onto my property, “all that wood chopping does a man wonders.” It’s like he knows my every thought, my every feeling, how the hell can he do that?

“Put me down,” I say, still in shock that he could lift me that easily, “if this is what it’s like to be tall, I don’t want it.”

“Please,” he says when we reach my house, “you weren’t telling that to Shane at the concert. Watching you on his shoulders, man, I was so jealous that his head got to be between those pretty thick thighs.” My breath gets caught in my throat when he says that and my thoughts race back to when I fed him lunch that same week.

“Pumpkin soup isn’t the only thing you were hungry for?” I ask as he squats and my feet reach the ground again. His arm doesn’t remove itself from my waist though. He’s walked me home but once I let him inside there’s no recovering from what's about to happen.

“I was starving,” he says, voice lowering. A shiver runs down my spine and a shock zaps between my legs. “But not for the soup. My sleep deprived ass just needed to see you.” I bit my bottom lip as his face moved closer to mine. I was confident being the domme, the one pursuing. I’ve never been on the receiving end of it though, is this what it’s like for someone to yearn for you? His slender fingers grasp the base of my chin and I look up into his deep brown eyes. Everything about him is screaming hunger, passion, need. My skin prickles as his grip on my jaw tightens. “The thought of being in your bed made me dizzy,” he says in a near growl. I extend my lips ever so slightly but he pulls his face away. His eyes roaming over my face and body, drinking up every bit of me. “Be honest,” he says while his other hand grips my waist, he doesn’t break eye contact, “did you touch yourself after I left? You were staring at me like a dog deprived of meat.” He licks his lips, revealing the ball of his tongue piercings. Yoba, he can read me like an oracle. “Like how you’re looking at me now?” I grab the hand that’s holding my waist and bring it up to my lips to kiss the pretty rings that rest gently around his fingers.

“You’re gonna have to show me if your fingers work better than mine.”

[sleekervae]

Introducing the OCs: Eleanor

Hi babies!

Been a while since I've done one of these! Seeing as my OC gals feature some pretty significant story lines of their own (we love plots that don’t just focus on romance), in this small series you’ll find some information about the girls, paired with their aesthetics and general behaviour. Today we're gonna learn about our wily cowgirl, Eleanor.

You can find her profile below the cut. There will be spoilers and NSFW content.

Masterlist

Moodboard

Eleanor is the same or a little bit younger than Billy, but not by much. She's very educated for a woman of her time, her mother made sure she knew how to read, write, calculate, and as a result her father decided to put her to work as a book keeper for their family's ranch. Unfortunately, because she's a woman in the 1860s, most people tend to underestimate her; as a result Eleanor gets one up on many people she comes across. She’s open-minded and doesn’t believe anyone is inherently better than another. Her family has a history of investing in plantations in South Carolina, but she was appalled by the cruelty and abuse inflicted on the slaves. After the Civil War, her family fled to Rosario, where they rebuilt their ranch.

She's a bit of a chameleon and can integrate wherever she goes; be it a simple farm girl or an elegant professional. Her big eyes and kind, feminine demeanour makes her appear very trusting and innocent,; she embraces her charisma and beauty fully and uses it to her own advantage. However, she'll open up and be vulnerable in front of people she only trusts. Her layers will be peeled back and if she truly trusts you, she'll protect you with her life; hence why she's so protective and open with Billy. She's very considerate, however don't ever mistake her kindness for weakness because she'll put a bullet in you without a second thought.

Eleanor was very distrustful of men, especially after her mother died and her father sold her dowry. Being a housewife was never a life she wanted; there was so much to explore in the frontier and being stuck at home with an old, decrepit husband would surely be the death of her. However, her feelings begin to turn when she meets Billy. His kindness and willingness to help her, no questions asked, was something she'd never experienced before with a man, young or old. Their relationship continues to flourish despite how often they separate. No matter where she goes, Eleanor knows that she always wants to be with Billy. It doesn't matter whether he's an outlaw, he's the only man she truly feels safe around.

Billy equally has never been so taken with a woman like he has with Eleanor. Didn't matter how many pretty women he met on his travels, Eleanor was wedged in his mind and no matter what he did, she stayed there. No matter how scared or angry he was, just a thought of her would suddenly ease him. Their private moments together, no matter how scarce they may seem, are always filled with great tenderness and softly spoken words where they quietly discuss the frontier and their future, mixing ordinary life with the greatness of existence. Eleanor likes reading, but mostly being read to. She likes listening to Billy's voice as he reads for her, she likes closing her eyes with her head on his chest and listen to his quiet voice, or with her head on his lap, her eyes droopy as his hand combs her hair while the other one holds the book.

When they're in public together, they could be very rigid, not interacting with each other much as they didn't want particular people in Lincoln to target them. But if Billy needs to touch her, he'll keep a hand on her shoulder or take her hand in his. He'll always let her go through the door or up the stairs first, being a gentleman after all. When they're among friends and can be more relaxed, he'll have his arm around her shoulders, he also likes placing his arm behind her back to reach for her outer thigh, squeezing it gently as he tucks her into his side. If Eleanor's zoning out she'll sometimes prop her chin on his shoulder while he's talking about cards or discussing plans with the other Regulators. Billy loves when she does this, her lips are so close and it makes it so easy to steal a kiss or two -- that certainly zones her back in. And when the alcohol is flowing, Eleanor will wind up in Billy's lap at some point in the night, and it's all good times from there...

Women enjoying sex was quite a taboo topic for the time, Eleanor however found herself enjoying sex quite a bit. Her first time, with a ranch hand on her family’s farm, was dirty and cold on the barn floor, but it was the moment Eleanor truly felt like a woman. With Billy, she reaches new heights of pleasure, and he definitely reaches his sexual peak when he's with Eleanor. To put it simply, Eleanor is a brat—smart, hot-headed, and stubborn. Billy loves taming her because she’s the perfect blend of brains and beauty, keeping him busy and sometimes distracted from his responsibilities.

Billy relishes in learning how to please her, and as he masters her desires, his confidence soars. He delights in teasing her—physically and verbally—whispering all the wicked things he plans to do to her, just to make her shiver on the spot. Their favorite positions reflect their dynamic: missionary, where Eleanor loves the feel of him pressing down on her, and doggy, perfect for some enthusiastic, rowdy fucking. Spooning also makes the list, as it allows Eleanor to handle Billy’s size while keeping things intimate.

Eleanor sometimes feels insecure about her small breasts, but Billy doesn’t mind at all. He’s captivated by her personality, her intellect — and, admittedly, her perfectly shaped butt. He spends a lot of time on her chest, laying there, kissing it, touching it gently. As a consequence, he gets a lot of hair combing, face-touching, and forehead kisses. He likes laying on top of her, with her breasts pillowing his head. He just likes it a lot. It relaxes him and soothes him after a long day in the heat. Eleanor's drawn to people with knowledge and respectability, those who are smart enough to challenge her. She needs someone who can either help her switch off her overactive mind or engage it with sharp wit and spicy conversation. In short, she craves someone who can stimulate her mentally and then and then fuck her brains out with flawless execution of the sex she was thinking about. Billy fits the bill perfectly, embracing the challenge with enthusiasm.

Nothing turns her on more than a heated argument. Eleanor’s fierce, with a strong will and a fiery temper. Their clashes often end with Billy taking her on the nearest available surface, whether by putting her in her place when she’s being bratty or sweet-talking her into submission — a skill he’s naturally gifted at. After they’ve burned off their tempers, they take the time to analyze their disagreements, understanding what triggered the conflict and trying to see things from each other’s perspective. They know that good sex doesn’t solve problems, and they’re both committed to communicating openly once their tempers cool. Though they’re both stubborn and impulsive, they’ve learned to navigate their differences through shared emotional language.

Their disagreements rarely stem from differing morals or life views; it’s usually Billy’s recklessness or Eleanor’s elusive nature that sparks tension. But regardless of the cause, their arguments often lead to a good, passionate, and thoroughly satisfying fuck.

When it comes to foreplay, Eleanor is incredibly giving—partly because of her nurturing nature and partly because she loves watching Billy unravel under her touch. Her favorite kind of foreplay is a hand or blowjob, and she’s more than happy to do it just because, no special occasion needed. And of course, Billy isn’t the type to deny her what she wants.

Their connection is instinctual, not one for elaborate plans or premeditated moves, which makes their encounters feel wild and raw. Everything between them is passionate, especially when it comes to sex. But when emotions run high, their intimacy shifts—sex becomes soft and gentle, every touch cherished as if it might be their last.

Yet, Billy knows how to slow down and take his time, particularly when it comes to eating her out. Eleanor’s had her share of disappointing experiences in the past, so for Billy, it’s a chance to show her just how enamored, dedicated, and passionate he is. In those moments, he’s all about her, making sure she feels nothing but pleasure and love.

Their sleeping position depends on the mood. Usually, Billy wraps around Eleanor from behind, making her the small spoon, his arm and leg draped protectively over her as he cups her breast. Eleanor loves it when he pulls her close, letting her drift off with her head on his chest, held securely at his side. On nights when Billy is feeling more vulnerable, she softens, letting him rest his head on her chest, curling up beside her as she gently strokes his hair. After sex or during a nap, their closeness intensifies. There’s plenty of innocent breast-touching, but things can easily heat up if Billy’s in the mood for another round. Cockwarming is also a frequent occurrence, keeping them intimately connected as they drift in and out of sleep.

Their aftercare is deeply emotional and intimate. As Billy relaxes, he opens up, talking about the things that weigh on his mind and make him feel vulnerable. Eleanor is always there to listen, to soothe his worries, and to reassure him, helping him to stop overthinking and find peace in her embrace.

Billy and Eleanor are a fun couple, still navigating the ups and downs of their relationship, but grounded in a foundation of gentleness and sensitivity. Their connection runs deep, forged by the harsh realities of frontier life and their shared determination to survive whatever comes their way. As they grow both personally and socially, their bond only strengthens, showing them that they can face anything the world throws at them—as long as they have each other. Their love is the kind that endures, built on trust, resilience, and a deep understanding that together, they’re unstoppable.

[irishsparkleparty]

I had a wild week with medical stuff, and I would love for NOTHING ELSE TO HAPPEN.

(more under cut so I don't clog your dash)

I started off Monday thinking I had an infection in my ear helix piercing (burning sharp pain that spread to my temple and base of my neck). I went to urgent care on Tuesday morning and even though there was no discharge or visible infection I was prescribed an antibiotic ointment and pill.

About an hour or so after I took the pill I noticed something weird with my mouth when I would eat and drink (especially from a straw). my mouth and lips would shift hard to the right like I was pursing my lips? completely involuntary. I don't think too much of it at first and call out of work and pretty much just sleep until I have to go to work again Wednesday night.

I notice that the pain coming from my ear is better but half of my face is numb and droopy, including my lips and tongue. My anxiety goes through the roof at this point because. uh. droopy face is BAD. although I feel fine everywhere else and I'm not slurring words or anything.

I go to urgent care again thinking I'm having a bad reaction to the antibiotics. the doctor is totally flabbergasted and has no idea what's wrong with me. She isn't sure if it's the medicine or something else so she sends me to the emergency room. (HELLO ANXIETY)

I don't have any friends close by and my girlfriend can't drive so I call my boss. she immediately comes to get me. the droopiness is getting worse and I finally see a doctor a few hours later. he almost instantly diagnoses me with Bell's Palsy and assures me it's not a stroke.

if you don't know what Bell's Palsy is, it's a dormant virus that can activate at anytime and it causes the facial nerve on one side to swell which causes numbness and droopiness. it's actually pretty harmless and goes away on it's own in less than 6 months. so. thank god for that.

the biggest trouble with it is I can't fully blink my left eye so it's just permanently kind of weepy and I need to use a lot of eyedrops. I ordered an eyepatch to use while I'm at work because the blurriness is very distracting.

I can kind of move the left side of my face but not without a lot of effort, the muscles are just very weak but not totally useless. it's really only noticeable when I talk and smile.

Anyway uhhh I'm glad my piercing isn't infected and it wasn't anything too serious. although this will affect me for quite a while. Just wanted to vent about my horrible roller-coaster of a week!!!!!

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Ok so I’m the one that requested the white lead reader, maybe her talking about Katakuri her favorite older brother that always cared about her and never cared that she had the disease, and her getting sad that since her siblings were banned from seeing her she can’t see him anymore

-You were coloring at a large table, crayon drawings all around, showing you had been busy, but you looked so sad, your eyes droopy and no smile anywhere on your face.

-Odin was the one to approach you, sitting beside you, seeing the different drawings you had done of all of them, Muninn and Huginn loved their picture together, praising you which did make you smile, but only slightly.

-Odin patted your head gently, “Are you okay, Y/N? Are you still feeling sick?” you shook your head, as technically you were still in recovery, but you were allowed to do low impact stuff like coloring.

-You hesitated in answering, looking down at your newest drawing and Odin saw a tall man with dark pink hair, a scarf covering his mouth, and wearing an outfit that was mostly black, covered in silver spikes and studs, and matching dark pink tattoos, “I miss my big brother Katakuri.”

-Odin’s eyes went wide, as soon as the order that your mother wasn’t welcome, along with your siblings without permission, you had been separated from the one person that didn’t care about the Amber Lead Syndrome you had.

-Katakuri knew it wasn’t contagious, and he always made sure to dote on you, treating you nicely, even sharing his donuts with you, at least a piece of one, as his donuts were bigger than you were.

-You told Odin this, drawing a donut this time, using a rainbow of colors to make the sprinkles and he smiled softly, sitting with you and asking you more questions about your drawings.

-When he told the others about your big brother, many wanted to allow him to visit you, so you would be happy, because you were still a child, and while being safe with your new family, you did miss the one you had before, at least Katakuri.

-Hermes went to deliver the invitation to Katakuri himself, and Mama was furious to learn that only he was invited to come, nobody else. She caught him before he left, demanding that he bring you back, wanting all of her children at home.

-Katakuri knew that he wasn’t going to, as he knew how she treated her children, even the strongest ones like him, you were all pawns to be used for her own gain, usually to marry off or carry out heinous deeds like stealing ingredients and killing those who have those ingredients, rather than just buying them.

-You were in tears, happy tears, when your big brother walked in, immediately running over and leapt into his arms after he kneeled, catching you and hugging you close.

-Your family, your new family, smiled, seeing you so happy as Katakuri was in awe, brushing your hair from your face, seeing that it was true- you were really cured.

-Katakuri was allowed to spend the whole day with you and for the most part he got along with the other members of your adoptive family, he was very unlike your mother, calm and collected but also respectful.

-Zeus gave you and Katakuri permission that he could visit whenever he wanted, but only him, nobody else was allowed to come and you were both okay with that.

-You hugged your big brother who returned the embrace, ruffling your hair gently before returning home to a furious Mama, who blamed the gods and warriors in Valhalla for not returning you, after Katakuri was able to convince her that you were still weak in recovery and that by leaving you there, you could get stronger and stronger.

-She bought it, thankfully and your new family was grateful for his help.

-You went back to coloring, now more cheerful than before as you wanted to make pictures for Katakuri when we visited next time.

[kawaii-harrys]

PICTURE PERFECT

Word count : 4k+

Warnings: none except this is unedited and angsty. This is inspired from @hes-writer 's story Favorites, and a song called Lilith by Ellise. Have a happy read.

Synopsis: Harry and Y/N fuck up as parents to their eldest daughter. And by the time they realize, she is gone too far.

____________________________________________

Nobody can really pinpoint the exact date, month, or year; but it had started along the line. Lilith stopped playing football and clutched onto her books, while Eric started his basketball obsession and Erica got selected into the cheerleading team. Jake was a little art curator and Stella, she was just born to be special, no matter what. Harry and Y/N couldn’t be any prouder of their babies.

It was Saturday when Lilith came home tiredly, her bag slung from her shoulders in a tired posture, halfway to her elbows.

“Do you know what time it is?”, Harry asked, without looking up from his phone as Lilith entered the house. It wasn’t like Harry was waiting up for her. He didn’t even know that she was out. He just happened to be there when Lilith entered the house. He hadn’t even lifted his head to see which one of the pack was standing there, but as soon as he raised his head up, his neutral face fell to a scowl.

“Ten past one. I know well.”, she said tiredly, not having any energy to fight back with her father. “Then where the hell were you at? That too at this late in the night?”, he raised his voice slightly. Lilith looked at him through droopy eyes, throwing the phone on the couch. “There is the phone. Save the lecture. You can think I was at a party or anything that soothes you. I will just ground myself for the next week, month, or year… whatever suits you”, Lilith shrugged, taking tired steps towards the stairs.

Only if it had been someone like Eric or Erica, everything would have ended with ‘alright but beware next time.’

“No young woman, you aren’t going anywhere till you tell me where you were”, Harry didn’t really want to know where she was or what she was doing. He just wanted to see his offspring think that he could get quite scary when rules aren’t followed.

“In a library”, she curtly answered.

“And which library opens till 1 in the morning?”, Harry raised a slight brow.

“I don’t know, search on google”, Lilith shrugged.

“Young lady, you don’t give me that attitude”, he looked at her, giving angry eyes that she was used to by this point.

“If you don’t want this attitude, better let me go and talk in the morning. It’s just going to give you and me a headache and the house a sleepless night.”, she closed her eyes momentarily, pressing against the bridge of her nose.

Harry sighed. “Alright, but we aren’t done”, he spoke.

Lilith nodded and went upstairs, to her room. She knew Eric’s and Erica’s rooms, a little steps away from her must be empty. She saw both of them walk into Derek’s house after all.

Derek was a happy part of her life once he wasn’t. Now he just called her to show off his girlfriend and kiss her passionately. The thin strand of silk that bound their friendship was now completely snapped once his girlfriend asked him to choose either Lilith or her. Needless to say, blinded by lust, he let Lilith go. Lilith was just empty now. Her chest was void.

She just briefly closed her eyes, falling over her bed in the same sage green cardigan and black jeans, taking no time to change. But the next time she opened her eyes it was 7.34 AM.

She groaned internally, having to chug down the want to hole up under her blanket and disappear into thin air. Sometimes, she felt like she wasn’t supposed to be born.

As she walked down, no one except Harry and Y/N was present in the kitchen. She stood from afar and observed her parents. Her father had his head rested on her shoulders, holding her from back and humming some melody in her ear. Her mother just smiled.

When was the last time she smiled?

Feeling weak in her limbs, Lilith tried to walk forward, only to stumble on her way, startling both of her parents when they saw her trying to stand back up; none of them came forward to lend a hand.

“Morning”, Lilith rasped, grabbing a glass of water, bringing it up to her lips, gulping it down in one go.

“Lili”, her mother called out and she looked up, “your father said that you were home late last night and you were awfully rude to your father?”, Y/N started, Lilith just wanted to hurry back into her room. A grounding would just help her cause. “I was tired”, Lilith weakly mumbled. “That’s no reason to talk to your father the way you did”, Y/N frowned. “Just jump straight to the torture”, Lilith mumbled, feeling irritation bubble up from her lungs. “Do you understand the depth of your actions, Lili?”, her mother scowled a little, so she decided to give the only correct answer, “Yeah”, although her lips said so, her eyes were distant, emotionless, reflecting Harry’s eyes to her all through her life. Y/N didn’t know what to do anymore. “Your phone is confiscated. You are grounded for a week”, Y/N muttered. “It’s not like I had anything important or any plans anyways”, Lilith shrugged. She didn’t really have friends so she didn’t think anyone would text or call to check up on her. “Also your video games…”, Harry added and Y/N looked at him, a little surprised. “I’m not the other children. I don’t play video games”, Lilith muttered, standing across, leaning on the kitchen door. Harry’s illuminating face dropped a little dissatisfied with the reply.

“I will be upstairs if you need anything, though I am sure you won’t need me”, Lilith muttered the last part out of earshot.

Under her blanket, Lilith stared at the blank wall. There used to be trophies and medals hung up on the wall, Lilith just took them all down. They were of no use. The mathlete certificates and awards were also put in a cardboard box under her bed. They were of no use too. The science projects, music projects, dance recitals, none of them were of any use.

They didn’t attract Harry’s apprehensive nod that he gives always to Eric or those sweet kisses on the forehead that were reserved for Erica. They didn’t attract the weekend off that was meant for Jake and Stella. Where did it all go wrong? What was her fault?

Maybe it was the only person that made her feel important who threw her out of his life, or her dad’s impeccable want to feel her terrorized by his angry stance, but it was reeling her back into her childhood. On sports day, the children’s parents would compete for their children, with their children; her dad was nowhere to be seen and her mom was heavily pregnant. So, she just sat down by the line and watched others have fun. Before her football matches, her parents were busy with one kid or the other, so she practiced by herself; throwing the ball to one end and running to the end to kick it some more. Her first singing competition and she saw Harry looking down on his phone annoyed, distracted, missing her whole performance. On her eighth birthday, none of her friends remembered; and her parents were busy nursing Jake and Stella. She felt stupid and dumb. She thought it must be the wrong date, but when she looked at the calendar, she broke down into sobs. It was the right date. That was the night she came to a realization, she was always alone, no matter what.

The twins were early to catch up to her age and while they did make her feel at ease, the twins were so close to each other, Lilith felt like she was always at the wrong timing. Jake and Stella were close too.

Where did she stand all this time?

The sun rose to head at noon and set in the evening, no one called her for lunch or dinner. The twins were sure to have had a hangover; the kids, well, who knows? Whatever it was, she knew she didn’t belong.

Monday. Everyone looked happy, like a picture-perfect family. Jake and Stella were on their high chairs, talking to each other, god-knows-what, and Eric and Erica were talking with their father about something important. Their mom was happily humming flipping the pancakes and swaying her hips with the song. If there was one dust on this picture-perfect timing, it would be Lilith. So she stealthily walked back to her room and got her polaroid. Maybe, at least Harry would smile looking at the picture? Staying behind the railing, she captured the happy moment of the family. It had a smiling Harry, laughing at something Y/N said as she served the plates. Eric and Erica were sharing laughs as well. Y/N was trying to conceal her smile and Jake and Stella, not understanding anything, continued babbling to each other.

The only thing that could spoil this picture was her presence. Everyone would shut down immediately on seeing her, and begin smiling again when she was absent. She felt like she was in school, living with people.

She didn’t want to be the one to spoil it, so she walked back into her room and grabbed some protein bars from her desk. She packed her school bag and walked away for school, nibbling on to the chocolate bar. She haven’t had actual food in so long, but there was only so much in her want or reach.

_____________________________________________

There was a supposed family dinner that night, and everyone was excited. Everyone except Lilith. She assumed everyone had already forgotten her forlorn, gloomy presence in the house. But just then Y/N barged into Lilith’s room, seeing the eldest at her study desk, studying her afternoon away. “We’re going for a family dinner, so put on some nice clothes”, Y/N said in a hurried voice. “Your and my definitions of nice clothes are different, just pick out one”, Lilith spoke removing her glasses and looking at her mother. Y/N all but sighed as she went to the 17-year-old’s closet. There was no dress, frock, or anything wearable according to Y/N. “We don’t even have time to go shopping”, Y/N groaned throwing her head back. Lilith sighed. “I’ll just put on what I wear every year so no one will notice me no matter what”, Lilith muttered, as Y/N sighed.

A black T-shirt and black jeans, always made her invisible, adding to the darkness of her smile or her mind. Her green eyes, a gift from Harry, would roam around, seeing everyone else, but never giving herself away.

“The kids are growing so fast, aren’t they? It was like yesterday when Lili, Eric, and Erica were just toddlers”, Gemma gushed, and that was supposed to be the only time her name was mentioned. “Eric and Erica are growing glamorously. They are so humble and talented.”, Harry smiled proudly at his babies. “What about Lilith?”, Gemma asked. “Well her, well-- I don’t know. She just doesn’t fit right into the picture”, Harry replied, as if he didn’t know that the eldest sibling was six feet away from him, head hung low, fingers fiddling with each other. She took the darkest corner; she took the darkest light.

“Harry? Y/N?”, Anne asked concerned, looking at Lilith’s already shrunken face. Lilith didn’t open her mouth, wanting to know actually what was her fault that everyone seemed to put her away from their life. “I mean, she has gotten a bit bitter; never talking to us the correct way and stuff”, Harry replied while Y/N pursed her lips.

If she was of no use, what was the reason to pretend?

The dinner was silent. Lilith’s presence was like a ghost; unnoticed.

That night when they reached back, she knew, she would change.

__________________________________________________________

Tuesday dinner. Everyone had something important to share.

“I’m so proud of you, Erica”, Harry says when she completes saying how she became the cheerleader captain. Eric said something about helping a guy out with his project. Jake and Stella babbled about drawing something. When everyone’s story ended, there was little to no chance anyone would ask Lilith about her day. But Y/N did notice the obnoxiously quiet girl. “So Lilith, how was your day?”, Y/N asked. It would be pretty dumb to reply if no one would listen, especially since Harry and Eric were in a serious conversation. So She shrugged. “Nothing new. Smoked pot and had a threesome”, Lilith’s words caused a whiplash of heads. Harry’s head was the fastest. Erica tried to confine her amused smile and Eric was downright shocked. Y/N looked like she saw a ghost, the kids not understanding anything. “Just kidding. It was the same boring day, with boring lectures and angsty teachers”, Lilith slyly smiled as everyone let out a silent breath of relief. “I was seriously kidding”, she repeated aloud. “Or am I?”, that caused the second whiplash of heads. Lilith left them all perplexed.

_______________________________________________________________

Wednesday. A birthday. Her birthday. As usual, she anticipated no text, call, or presents. The breakfast table was impregnated with silence, because of Lilith’s obvious words. Lilith avoided everyone that day. No one questioned her.

_______________________________________________________________

Thursday. Lilith had to babysit her youngest siblings. Eric and Erica had willingly joined, sitting on to watch a movie. Alice in Wonderland played in the background. Harry was ecstatic to see his children bonding well.

He doubted Lilith ever loved the family as the other kids did. When he passed by her room, although he knew he shouldn’t, he welcomed himself in the spotless room. There lay a bunch of papers on the top of her desk, which he assumed was an assignment. The topic was “Parents and Teenagers”.

Eagerly, Harry flipped through the pages, enamored by the writing, by the way the words were put together. When he was nearing the end of the essay, he felt his lips droop down.

“... There is not much difference between how teenagers view the world and how parents view the world; each has their own opinion, own paints to brush the world with. When the parents heal and brush the world a bright color of yellow, the teenager could be in a dark place and paint the world black, to shut out light, to shut out noises. Even though the parents seemed to have passed this phase in a different light, the teenagers might worry about things that might not make sense to the older parents. A teenager can be depressed about their parents not loving them as much as their siblings, and a teenager can be worried about their parents loving them as if they’re an only child. However, the thought processes are different in each case. In the first case, it is obvious that the reason is wanted attention. In the second case, however, it could be the fear of resentment from the other siblings or in really dark vessels, the fear could be of causing grief to their parents when they are in the darkest corners of their lives. However, what they feel is real. People can only love as much as the amount of blood pumped by the heart, but to love beyond that, is what a parent is capable of. However, it’s a choice. Sometimes, the choice is difficult; and sometimes the choice just comes.

Movies and books should stop criticizing teenagers for the way they feel, when parents, the adults, don’t feel shame in abandoning children even if they are completely capable, refusing to heal, and passing on their demons to their kids. A gift is a gift, whether good or bad. If the good ones can be accepted with a smile, let the bad ones sink in too. The codes in DNA are already wired from the ancestors. It won’t be one's religion, color, race, or gender that decided one's action, but the way one received the code of genetics; the way one decided to get rid of the bad weeds and kept the good ones to be passed on. Therefore, if it's a defective piece you see, try to find their use rather than throwing them away. The world is getting filled with unnecessary junk anyways”

It was the first Harry had taken an insight into her thoughts. He saw a scribbly red A+ at the corner of the page. It fucking deserved that.

Harry placed the bunch where it was and took a look around. It looked awfully empty. Harry felt an icy foot of dragonfly settle in his chest, a ghost of realization hovering over him, of what he was losing certainly.

He walked back to the kitchen, where his woman was laying plates for dinner.

“Dad is really the best, isn’t he? Like he is always there to help me with projects and games. He has been so supportive of my decisions, you know?”, it was unmistakably Eric’s voice, and Harry smiled, eavesdropping a little more on his children’s conversation.

“I know right. Like he is the coolest father”, Erica gushed. “He reads us bedtime stories!”, Jake squeaked. “Plays dolls too”, Stella squeaked standing beside Jake. “Lilith… what about you?”, Erica asked the girl whose eyes were trained on the television.

“What?”, Lilith asked. “Whom do you like more? Mom or dad?”, Eric repeated Jake’s question. “The correct answer is both of them”, Lilith muttered. Harry’s brows furrowed. “We’re asking you your honest answer not the correct answer”, Erica rolled her eyes. There was a fleeting moment of silence before Lilith replied, “Neither of them”

There was some more silence. “W-Why’d you think that?”, Eric asked. The conversation had started with Stella’s homework about writing an essay about their father. “He’s in games and performances, for you guys, not mine. He helped you out for your basketball practice, not me for my football ones. He helped you out for your chemistry exam, not my music exam. He held your hand till you were completely seated in your kindergarten for two whole months, for me, he left as soon as he could as if I suffocate him. Forehead kisses, gentle touches when you got hurt were reserved for you, for me it was the cold eyes and distant look. And mom, well, she made up excuses for him. He was busy. He was busy playing with you. He was tired. He was tired after playing with you. Every time I thought it was supposed to be just that way. You guys came along and he was a different father. Mom, even if she knew that dad didn’t quite like me, she left him to care for me. As if she looked for an escape too. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if he got up one day and said, I don’t want to be around you and disown me”, Lilith spoke her heart for the first time.

“And”, she continued, “Yesterday was my last birthday in this house. Can’t remember the last time anyone from my family wished me”

Harry’s heart completely shattered at the last statement. How could he forget? More likely how did he not notice?

“You know that they love you, right?”, Eric said, hesitantly.

“There is a difference between ‘supposed to love’ and ‘loving as much as the other children’. I know they are forcing themselves to love me because they aren’t supposed to have any other feeling other than love for their child. But their love for me won’t ever reach the height of the love they have for you guys.”, Lilith replied.

Y/N stepped up the stairs cheerily to call out for her happy family to have the last meal of the day, however seeing Harry on edge, Y/N’s smile disappeared.

She startled him to an extent where he slightly flinched at her touch. Not knowing what's going on, Y/N presses her ears against the wall, to pick up the conversations. “Yo--You know that they don’t hate you, right? They are the best parents in the world”, Erica asked, her voice quivering, not wanting to see this side of her parents. “I never said they were bad parents. They were just never supposed to be mine”, Lilith spoke, unapologetically, shocking everyone hearing on the conversation. “Yesterday was her birthday”, Harry murmured, looking at Y/N’s shattered face. She had tried hard to put past every negative feeling and be a good mother to Lilith. But, she failed terribly. “I would rather have them hate me. It’d be easier to accept their actions, rather than thinking that they loved me to such an extent that it got excessive and they couldn’t handle it. I don’t want my only definition of love to be ignorance and neglect. It won’t be fair, after all these years”, Lilith sighed. Y/N’s heart crumbled apart as she knocked softly at the door, the eyes on her. “Dinner’s ready”, it was as if she provided them with water while they were parching. Everyone was quick to leave.

That’s why Lilith hated to open up. No one could ever handle the bitter truth.

Lilith walked past her parents, no emotions in her eyes.

Given that Lilith was actually Harry's ex's child, who couldn't support the upbringing, Y/N was slightly jealous and Lilith stayed as the reminder of that jealousy. For Harry, she remained a constant reminder of the rough phases between him and Y/N. They never saw how bitter they went against her.

The dinner table was heavy. Jake and Stella didn’t know what was going on, but they thought it would be better just to be quiet. Harry cleared his throat. “So, Lilith, I remember you doing football, how’s it going?”, Harry tried to act nonchalant. But Lilith knew he knew. Lilith knew he overheard. Because if he didn't, he wouldn't remember. So she didn’t bother covering up her greens. “I stopped playing years ago”, she replied. “Why?”, Harry choked out. “Because people who were supposed to love me decided not to show up at a single game. And at last, it proved to be of no use.”, Lilith said, her snake green eyes choking everyone in the room. Harry didn’t lie when he said he remembered. He vaguely remembered the coach calling him to just say how good Lilith played and could represent the school in Nationals or Internationals even, only if she continued. He was disinterested and forced a clipped smile. Little Lilith’s heart fell and she left the team days after.

“So, what do you like nowadays?”, Y/N asked, trying to take matters forward, since she was the one who major fucked up!

“Nothing and No one.”, she shrugged.

Harry and Y/N sat defeated. “Dude, they are trying to talk to you, don’t be hard to get to!”, Erica rolled her eyes.

“Sorry that I’m not high so I can’t take a freaking conversation well.”, Lilith scoffed. Gasps fell from lips. It was an obvious lie, but the lack of humor at the dining table didn’t help factors. “It’s just less than a month. I will be out of your hair, so leave me out of your business”, Lilith said, feeding as little as she could, and got up to her room.

Harry touched the smooth picture he had found on Lilith’s table, with a small ‘picture perfect’ written under the polaroid; one where his family was happy; where he had a happy family, only that picture lacked one person, one person that never thought was deserving to be in that picture. He wasn’t aware when the picture was taken. He didn’t know why she took it. But it stung like a thousand wasps were feeding on his cut.

He felt fucking pathetic.

He remembers a few lines from her essay that he had read earlier. “Sometimes, people act like they love the other person in the row more than the person next to them. To teenagers, it's a replaceable lover. To parents, it's an irreplaceable child. But the effects sting just the same. This process just reveals the insecurity of people; they think that by making one jealous, they can make the bond stronger. Only this bond strengthens the bond as much as it weakens it.”

Perfect smiles don’t make a picture-perfect family. Shared secrets and tears do so too. But he failed a little too much in seeing both the tears and smiles.

_____

part 2

[ginnyweasleymybeloved]

willow / fred weasley

ahhhhh the first addition to this series!! really hope you guys like it! make sure to let me know what you think, asks/reblogs/comments are very appreciated <3

evermore x hp masterlist

all fics masterlist

summary: hogwarts’ most popular playboy has made it very clear that you, his best friend, were not his type, seeing as you were crushing on him hard, you decide to take matters into your own hands

word count: 2k

warnings: swearing, drinking, mentions of sex but not really, kissing, i think thats it but let me know if i missed anything <3

taglist: @padsfirewhisky

“life was a willow and it bent right to you wind

they count me out time and time again

life was a willow and it bent right to your wind

but i come back stronger than a 90s trend”

Fred Weasley had made quite the name for himself in Hogwarts as of late. You loved the boy dearly but in simple terms he’d become something of a womaniser. It was lighthearted, for the most part, girls knew what they were getting into with Fred, it was black and white and completely unsentimental. With him, a snog was just a snog and a shag was just a shag, there was no confusion over whether or not there was something more there with Fred, there wasn’t and, you supposed, as a teenage girl that there was a certain appeal to that sort of physical transaction. Even though Fred was becoming increasingly hard to catch by himself without a random girl hanging from his arm, he was very particular about who he chose to keep as company on any given night.

Unfortunately for you, it seemed that the criteria was “anyone who isn’t Y/n”. This was made clear to you during a party in the Gryffindor common room while you were hanging out with Fred, George, Lee and Angelina. The five of you were taking up one of the comfy sofas towards the back of the crowded room, a bottle of fire whiskey was being passed between you all. Angelina had her head sleepily tucked into your shoulder, ever the lightweight, as she listened to the conversation the boys were having halfheartedly. George was sat to your right while Angelina was tucked against the arm of the chair to your left, his long arm stretched to wrap around both yours and Angelina’s shoulders. Fred sat on the right arm of the sofa with Lee slouched drunkenly beside George, it was fairly late and since the party had started pretty early after the day’s quidditch win, you were all fairly intoxicated when the dreaded topic of Fred’s gallivanting came about.

“Right, question for Fred,” Lee started, his words slightly slurred as he passed the bottle of fire whiskey to George, who took a long swig before handing the bottle to you and resting his cheek against the top of your head. You let out a small laugh, with Angelina resting on your shoulder and George close to sleep on your head you felt like the comfiest spot in the entire common room.

“Go for it, Jordan,” Fred said airily, his brown eyes glazed over as his stared at your form enveloped between George and Angelina, catching his gaze you outstretched your arm, offering him the alcohol only for him to shake his head and greet you with a soft smile, shifting his eyes back to Lee.

Lee, who always had a tendency to talk with his hands, waved his arms around nonsensically as he posed the question, “If you had to spend the rest of your life with one girl in our year who would it be? Excluding Y/n obviously.”

You sprung to life at that, disturbing Angie and George when you lurched forward to face Lee with a confused expression, “What? What do you mean excluding Y/n?”

Fred chuckled at your affronted expression and shook his head softly, “Don’t look so offended, love. He just means that you’re not really my type.”

You let out a scoff as Angie whined, sitting up with you only to wrap her arms around your middle and plop her head back down on your shoulder, muttering a druken, “Piss off, Freddie. You couldn’t get her anyway,” George snorted, obviously entertained by the whole thing while Lee looked like a child who just got caught staying up past bedtime.

“Ignoring the fact that I’m obviously way out of your league,” you started, glaring at Fred teasingly, “If I’m not your type then how come last night’s girl looked exactly like me?” You challenged raising an eyebrow. George let out a low whistle and Fred choked on air.

“She didn’t- she wasn’t-“ Fred stuttered and Angie groaned against your neck.

“Yea she did, Fredrick. She wasn’t even as gorgeous as our Y/n stop acting like a prat you’d be lucky to spend your life with her!” She ranted, glaring at him as best she could through her droopy eyelids.

“I agree with Angie, Y/n is obviously an exception because she’s simply too good for our resident fuckboy,” George added as you and Fred entered into some kind of staring contest.

Lee snatched the fire whiskey from your hand and took a quick shot, “Alright, alright calm down! Here is my professional commentary; Y/n is not included because Freddie dearest doesn’t know how to deal with feelings and, as we all know, Y/n is a whirlwind- in a good way of course- however Freddie can only think with his dick so he would only get lost in her current.”

“Oi!” Fred shouted indignantly, pouting childishly before hopping off his seat and shoved his twin away from you, he squeezed himself into the space beside you and looked at you seriously, his cheeks flushed due to, what you thought was, his intoxicated state, “You’re not included because you’re my best mate and I’ll spend the rest of my life with you anyway I just think, you know, romantically you're not my type...” That stung. The alcohol in your system wasn’t working nearly as hard as Angie’s as she was reaching across your body and smacking Fred across the chest clumsily before you could even fully digest his words.

“Fred-“ smack, “Weasley-“ smack, “You-“ smack, “Are-“ smack, “such a-“ smack, “Twat!” The slaps she delivered were weak and didn’t do much besides cause Fred to fall into a state of utter confusion, “Romantically you’re not my type,” you, George and Lee snickered at Angie’s imitation of Fred’s voice, while Fred continued to stare at Angelina with a lost expression as she went on, “So a loyal, trustworthy, considerate, girlfriend isn’t your type? Hm? Well good because just because you said that you can never ever have her because she’s mine!”

“Alright, Angie. I think it’s time for bed,” you mumbled through a laugh, she was always a combative drunk and you usually found it quite funny but you didn’t need anymore reminding that your hopeless crush really was hopeless. When you stood up you howled out a laugh when Angie hopped up behind you, still glaring at Fred she smacked your ass, slung her arm around your shoulder and slurred, “Yeah. Let’s go, sexy,” George and Lee fell into a fit of laughter as you led Angie towards the stairs.

“I love you girls!” George called through his laughter, Lee hummed in agreement.

“Love you, Georgie. Love you, Lee!” You replied.

“I love you too!” Angie shouted over you.

Fred was still lost when you disappeared up the stairs with his, very drunk, teammate, “What the fuck just happened?”

“Your stupid ’Y/n is off limits’ rule has finally caught up to you. You’ve lost her to Angie.” George chuckled and Fred shoved him halfheartedly.

“Shut up. All that this proves is that I’m no good for her.” He said, bitterly taking a swig from the bottle in his hands. It was no secret to either of the boys that Fred was head over heels for you. He would’ve followed you anywhere, however, it seemed as though every time he spoke to you the less he even knew what he was trying to say; take that night as an example. You were exactly his type. In every way. But Lee was right when he said Fred wasn’t good at dealing with his emotions, whereas you seemed to hold an ocean of feelings and insights to life that Fred would actively drown in if he could.

“She likes you Fred, you know how she is when she wants something. Tell her no, she’ll only come back stronger. She’ll crack you eventually, ‘specially with Angie in her corner,” George informed his brother, reminding him of your unmatched determination.

True enough, you had always played to win and often did everything in your power to complete a challenge and come out on top. Fred wasn’t an idiot, he knew you fancied him, he fancied you too, who wouldn’t? But there were times that he’d be with you and this feeling of home would wash over him- he couldn’t risk losing you or that feeling you brought about, he’d be completely hollow. Besides, chasing girls who reminded him of you would keep him satisfied for the time being, surely. Surely not apparently.

George was right when he said you wouldn’t give up, in the last few days Fred found himself wishing you were his and he just knew you were doing things to make him crazy on purpose. You were, of course. He couldn’t deny that you were a force of nature all on your own, but wow, you were indeed a whirlwind when you acted with intention.

It had started with fleeting touches whenever you were close enough to achieve it. Gentle brushes of your fingertips against his while you walked alongside each other in the halls, quickly progressed into your hand gripping his bicep every time you spoke to him, then onto biting your lip whenever you were aware of his gaze. Ignoring the growing frustration within him only grew harder when you’d approach him, like clockwork, each night before he’d get busy with whoever it happened to be that night. You’d casually brush your hand down his arm, pull your lip between your teeth, wink and tell him to, “have fun”, and he would, purely because he’d have that image of you seared into his head the entire time.

Playing dirty was never something Fred would normally get on board with, however, the second he noticed you lapping up the attention you were receiving from one of the, admittedly handsome, Ravenclaw boys; Fred decided that you were in fact the one prize he’d cheat to win.

“Fuck this,” he’d muttered, causing his twin to raise an eyebrow at him. They’d only just sat down for breakfast yet Fred was already cursing out the day.

Ginny had heard him too, the youngest Weasley gave Fred a bored look, “What’s wrong with you?”

Fred let out an agitated huff through his nose, glaring menacingly at the tall brunette boy, who was sitting far too close to you for Fred’s liking. George’s laugh broke him out of his trance and he heard his brother snicker out a sarcastic, “So the penny’s finally dropped, has it?”

“Piss off, George,” Fred grumbled, his lips forming a scowly as the boy placed his hand on your knee under the table.

“For Merlin’s sake, Fred. Would you just ask her out already? I’m sick of you,” Ginny complained, Fred was her brother and she loved him but this? This was ridiculous.

“Rude, Gins. You better watch it or I’ll tell mum you’re misbehaving,” Fred joked, halfheartedly while Ginny raised a challenging eyebrow.

“Try it, Fred. I’ll tell her that you’re being a git and ruining her chances of having Y/n as a daughter-in-law.” Ginny threatened. Fred shook his head, determination flooding his body.

He stood from his spot hastily, and all but marched up to you and the boy who currently occupied your attention, “Oi, can I steal you for a minute, love?” Before you could even answer, you were being pulled from your seat by Fred’s strong grip on your hand.

The boy pulled you along until you were out of earshot of the Great Hall and away from the prying eyes of the nosy student body.

“Can I help you, Freddie?” You asked sweetly, too sweetly.

Fred’s hands slid against your sides before settling contently on your waist, he shook his head in disbelief as he spoke, “You’re something else, do you know that?”

Butterflies rumbled in your stomach in response to his newfound proximity and burning gaze. It took everything in you to bite back a triumphant yell as you managed a wicked grin. “What I am is exactly your type, Fred Weasley.”

“You’re bloody right you are,” he muttered, impatient desire fuelling him as he brought his lips to yours, tugging you closer by the waist and kissing you with so much desperation that you were starting to think snogging Fred Weasley wasn’t as open and shut as you’d previously thought.

[darkenedreaper]

Pairing: Ellen Ripley x Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Slight Violence

A/N: Tagging this with irrelevant tags, ie, people I write for and just to get it across, you don't like that? Block me

Summary: After Hicks abandons the mission, you run back in to save everyone, what happens when you come across a human enemy and Ripley is forced to watch with Newt.

MASTERLIST

Come Back To Me

You were both in the tank, listening to the comms and watch Apone's team and monitoring their heartbeats. Newt was sat in her seat after Ripley told her to sit down after seeing the team had entered the aliens feeding and cocoon bay.

By the screens in the tank, you had your hands on the table and were listening into Gormans headset while Burke was behind you. Ripley was standing close to you. It was a habit of yours to stand close to Ripley ever since 1979 and she was grateful. She knew how protective and silently defensive over her and she saw your instincts kicking in when her and Hicks would have a conversation. Ripley had always been attracted to you and your attraction to her was evident when you had 'hooked up' with each other just before the attack of the first alien. You had both agreed it was a one-time thing but you'd both know when you were jealous over the other.

Hicks hadn't taking a liking to you either, he knew the strength you had and your rank in Weyland Yutani, but he saw how close you were to Ellen and he decided to give her his name, resulting in her giving hers back. After that you sulked in the corner seat reading one of Hudsons magazines. Why did she feel uncomfortable giving you the permission to call her by her first name but she let him call her by it. You hadn't properly speak to Ripley for a few hours and she felt lonely and insecure without you around her. But she felt safer when your side was next to hers.

All of a sudden, the comms broke off and they were being attacked by a familiar enemy around them. You gave Ripley a familiar nudge on her arm and ran to load yourself with weapons as she grabbed Gormans collar yelling, "Do something!". She pushed him away before securing Newt in her seat while starting the engine of the tank and speeding off. You had put on overalls with tons if ammo and guns. As soon as you arrived at the drop off point you ran to the doors but halted as you felt a strong hand on your arm.

Ripley was looking up into your eyes with the most pleading and worried sick look in her eyes and she whispered loud enough for you, "Come back to me". You turned towards her and tilted your head to kiss her cheek, something you always did to only slightly settle her nerves. Her eyes hut for a second when yiur lips touched her cheek. And when she opened then she saw your heroic figure running off into the fire. As soon as she saw you gone she rank back to the cameras. She searched every camera for your voice or face and when she looked at Vasquez's camera she saw you pulling up Hudson along with Drake. You passed along fire weapons to the surviving members of the team.

Back at the camp, several team members had returned but injured and when Ripley and Newt looked around they couldn't find you anywhere. Moments after Ripley had screamed and shouted at Hicks for leaving you behind, until Hudson pointed you out, hand to hand fighting a human. She ran over to the cameras and saw the mysterious figure beating you to the point of exhaustion. You were barely standing, but still tried to fight on wobbly knees until he kicked the top of your thigh, making you collapse on one knees. You used you gun to aim but missed when he jabbed your jaw. As soon as you got up you used your gun but he pushed his hand onto your arm, making it aim at the ceiling breaking the rubble. As soon as your hand was above your head he punched the middle of your chest sending you backwards into the wall. You moved forward and pushed his face but you had to remove your hand and place it against the wall to brace yourself. His fingers were digging into your chest as if in attempt to rip out your heart, just as the mouth of an alien would do. Half his hand was spread across your face twisting your head to the side causing you to yell out in anger and pain.

Ripley was watching on the camera and nearly about to cry. She knew you were at breaking point when she saw you brace yourself against the wall. It made her upset as she had never seen you so weak. But her hopes were raised when you drew a knife from your side and stabbed him before twisting it in his injury making him back away and giving you time to run.

Hicks had tried to stop her from running out to help you but Newt bit his hand and waited for Ripley to get back with you. Ellen didn't even recognise your face, you were covered in blood and sweat and clutching your leg. She ran towards you and put your arm around her shoulders and wrapped her other arm around your waist. Her eyes darted from the plane landing and your droopy eyes. She helped you get up the ramp where Newt met you both and desperately tried to hold your waist. Gorman took you from Ripleys care and helped you lay on a bed while Bishop dealt with the bleeding wounds. Ripley bent down to the crying Newt. Ripley had a little breakdown herself into Newts shoulder but she was quickly comforted by Newt kissing her temple, something Ripley always did with Newt.

They had to strap themselves in but within a few minutes they could walk around the ship again. Ripley walked over to you and sat down beside you stroking your hand that wasn't injured. As soon as you woke you tilted your head to see her. She sat up a little straighter and had a small smile on her face which you returned.

"You came back Y/n", you knew she only called you that in front of strangers when she'd been affected and you knew how much she'd feared. "Always", you replied. She bent down and kissed your head before stroking your hair away from your eyes. Then for the first time in a long time she genuinely smiled at you. You Both knew it would be the start of something beautiful.

[tsumtsumland]

“can’t help falling in love with you”| m.atsumu x reader

genre: fluff, sickly sweet romance

warnings: none

author’s note: this is a compilation of a few drabbles I wrote for one of my events, I just cleaned them up a bit and decided to post them as a one shot. Happy Birthday Atsumu!

A loud chime signifies 12pm and a frustrated growl leaves the faux blonde’s mouth. He glances at the antique grandfather clock on the wall and his fingers resume their wrestling with the bow tie hanging loosely around his neck. He grumbles quietly, refusing to accept that he should’ve just listened to you and gotten the clip-on ones. No, he wanted to do this right. Everything Atsumu was passionate about, he did with the utmost dedication, and this was no exception.

In all his life, he’s sure he’s never been as passionate about anything as he is about you (volleyball is a very close second). He huffs in annoyance when he tries again and the bow just does not budge, it looks sad, and droopy. He plops down on a chair in the room, trying to calm his thoughts. His hands are a bit sweaty, and he narrowly avoids running them through his hair and ruining it. That’s never happened before… he idly wonders why.

Osamu can’t help the amused smirk on his face while watching his twin struggle with the piece of fabric around his neck. He knows exactly what the problem is, but he also knows his brother is too stubborn to ever admit it… that he’s nervous. He strides over to the blonde version of himself, and grabs the tie around his neck, startling Atsumu.

“Hey! I can do—"

“Shut up, Tsumu,” he bites back, leaving no room for argument. His fingers expertly weave the piece of silk into the perfect bow. “There,” he mutters, and dusts a piece of lint off the black suit jacket. Atsumu is quiet, but he can see the gratitude in his eyes.

“Learn to accept help sometimes, Tsumu, you don’t have to do everything yourself,” are his parting words as he leaves the room.

Atsumu is frozen for a moment, before a fond smile breaks out on his face. He knows his twin means that in more ways than one, and he remembers similar words coming from you, his beloved, after a particularly brutal game in the first season you’d started working for MSBY. He was exhausted, and angry, after a nasty defeat, his fingernails bleeding, and knuckles bruised.

“It’s okay to accept help sometimes, it doesn’t make you weak or incapable,” you’d said softly as you held his calloused hands in your own soft ones, wiping away the blood carefully.

He thinks maybe that’s one of the first moments he realized he was in love with you.

Sitting in a room for too long before an event like this is bound to drive anyone insane, especially someone who thrives on being active. It’s 1pm now and Atsumu decides to take a walk, just to calm his thoughts down a bit. His feet lead him straight to the main hall, one you’d both chosen together. Your tastes weren’t so different, but you did have a bit of a difficult time choosing a venue, until this one. It was perfect.

He glances around the room, the crystal chandeliers you’d chosen hung decadently from the ceiling, reflecting on every glassy surface. It was all opulent, but not overdone. He wasn’t big on flowers and couldn’t understand for one minute why in the world they were so expensive, they’re flowers for crying out loud! His fingers reach out to touch one of the delicate, blush-colored petals of the centerpiece, and it takes him back to another time with you.

He thinks of the moment you walked into the flower shop to choose these very same flowers, and all he could see was you. Surrounded by so much beauty, yet you put it all to shame.

“I hope you’re not thinking of running away,” comes a stern voice that was all too familiar to him.

Atsumu bristles, and a short chuckle escapes him as he turns to face the only other woman he felt any real affection for, apart from you.

“I’ve never run away from anything mom,” he grins at her.

“That’s my boy,” she smiles, pride shining in her eyes.

His father comes to stand next to her, and leans over to pat his shoulder, “I hope you enjoyed your last few days of freedom, son,” he laughs when his wife glares and hits him.

Atsumu nods, he looks at his parents and wonders if that will be you and him in the future, the fluttering in his stomach tells him that he wants it to be. He remembers the day he brought you home to meet them. You were so nervous, and he’d only told them that he was bringing someone over. They assumed it was just a friend, because prior to that he hadn’t ever brought a serious girlfriend home, so the thought didn’t cross their minds.

They weren’t prepared for the way he looked at you, or the change in his rough demeanor when he held your hand and introduced you to them, stumbling over his words a little. If you were a little more aware in the moment, instead of trying to maintain your sanity, you would’ve noticed the sparkle in his mother’s eyes and the knowing look in his father’s as they looked at you two. It didn’t take them more than an hour into the dinner to give you both their seal of approval. They knew instantly that you were the one, and so did he.

“You’ll do fine, Tsumu,” his mother’s words are gentle and honest. They put him at ease.

…wise men say, only fools rush in…

Atsumu’s fidgeting stops, and he’s eerily still as the doors open. The moment his eyes fall on you, he feels like the breath’s been stolen right out of his lungs. You’re stunning, and all he can focus on is how you seem to shine brighter than the hundreds of twinkling lights that cover the ceiling and arches of the room.

…some things are meant to be…

It feels like every moment of his life has been building him up for this very one. Atsumu knows he’s not the best man in the world, he’s rough, and many think he’s rude, but he’s never cared for others’ opinions…until the moment he met you. You made him want to be a better version of himself. It goes without saying that he believes you will always be the better half, but he’d like to think that he’s deserving of your light.

…take my hand…

Tea lights in glass holders, and flower petals, illuminate the pathway to your soon-to-be husband, and you take a deep breath when you lock eyes with him. He’s dashing in his tux, his golden hair and eyes highlighted under the canopy of blush peonies and fairy lights at the end of the aisle. He looks like a prince right out of a fairytale. He’d definitely laugh if he heard you say that out loud, and you have to bite back a laugh at the thought of that conversation.

Atsumu isn’t sure how it happened until his vision is blurred, and he’s struggling a little to catch his breath, all he knows is that you’re there and you’re so beautiful, and he can’t imagine it being anyone else. He remembers now nervous he was on the night he proposed to you at the top of the Tokyo Skytree. The way your eyes lit up, and how the city lights paled in comparison to the radiance of your smile as you squealed a “yes!”

It’s barely visible but as you get closer, you see it, the wetness on his cheeks it’s so rare that it happens, that you notice. A wave of emotion hits you so strongly that you almost go weak in the knees.

…take my whole life too…

The look of absolute devotion, and pure love in his eyes is visible to everyone in the room, especially to you.

…For I can’t help falling in love with you…