#He's not a fan of looking at old photos but sometimes it helps to remember

[scribblesofagoonerr]

September Love | Never Grow Up

the third and final installment in the mini series - this is the second version, more sadder so that's a heads up there

summary: remi starts her first year of school and there's a new arrival in the williamson family

pairings: leah williamson x reader

warning: talks of death.

alternative ending for this one - please don't hate me for it, i'm sorry in advance!

based on the reactions to this one, is how i am going to figure out the next mini series!

“I can’t believe it’s this time already,” Leah says, a frown etched on her face as she stares at an old photo of Remi at 5 weeks old that she had saved in her phone, “Where has the time gone?” She murmurs.

It only felt like it was yesterday.

“We blinked Le,” You tell her, your eyes softening, “And just like that, she’s off to big school.” You add.

“But she’s still too tiny for big school, isn’t she?” Your wife exhales a sigh and continues to stare at the photo on her phone with tears welling up in her eyes.

“Le, she’s 5 years old now. We have to let her go now,” You say gently, reminding your wife that your eldest girl was indeed not a baby now.

“I still don’t like it though,” Leah admits quietly, shaking her head in disagreement.

You can’t help but chuckle heartily, “She’s only going into her first year of reception, it’s not like she’s moving out the country,” You tease your wife, which you’re quick to be on the dirty end of a scowl, “Come on Le, you know what I mean.”

“Don’t even joke about things like that,” Leah murmurs, continuing to frown at you, “You don’t get it though, it’s her first day of big school… which means she’s not a baby anymore.” She adds.

“No she’s not,” You reply quietly in agreement.

Your wife bites her bottom lip and shakes her head vigorously, “I don’t like it. Why can’t we just turn back the clock?” She asks.

“It doesn’t work like that,” You laugh humorlessly and shake your head.

“It’s just,” Leah begins to say as she finds the right words, “She was our tiny little baby at one point and now… now she’s just growing up so fast.”

“Don’t worry, we’ve still got time to go through all this again, remember?” You tell her, gesturing towards your swollen belly as you are ready to give birth any day now, “Twice.”

“I know,” Your wife’s eyes soften as she crouches down and rests her hands on your baby bump, “I can’t wait to meet you baby boy.” She whispers, placing a gentle kiss on your stomach.

“And he can’t wait to meet his Mummy either,” You tell her, genuinely smiling at the blonde, “Any day now.” You add, hopeful that he does make his appearance sooner rather than later after getting to the stage of being uncomfortable, and pregnancy during Summer is no joke.

“Why’re you sad, Mummy?” Remi’s voice pipes up out of nowhere, all ready for school wearing her brand new school uniform that you have to admit looks massive on her, her hair done up in a loose ponytail with a red ribbon attached while she wears her new black shiny shoes that you had the absolute misfortune of having to experience standing in a queue to just to get into the busy shop – that is something that you can definitely say you’re not such a fan off.

“Oh I’m not sad, baby Gooner,” Leah immediately plasters a smile on her face, “I’m just… I’m really proud of you, you know?” She adds, wiping away the stray tears from her face.

“But you’re crying though,” Remi frowns in confusion as she tilts her head to the side, “You only do that when you’re sad, like when you watch them really sad films about the puppies or when you’re on the pitch sometimes–”

“Okay, okay, I think we get it,” Leah interjects, before your daughter has any further chance to expose your wife for the softy that she really is, “I’m not sad, baby Gooner. I’m just so excited for you that you’re starting big school today. Are you excited?” She questions.

“Uh huh! I am so excited, I can’t wait to make lots of friends like uncle Jacob told me about!” Remi is vibrating with excitement, which is more than can be said about your wife.

“You’re going to make so many new friends!” You reassure your little girl with a proud smile on your face, “Alright, how about we take a picture for your first day of big school, yeah?”

“Yeah!” Remi jumps up and down in delight at the idea.

“Big smiles, Remi Roo!” You encourage as your daughter flashes you a gap-toothed smile from the tooth that she lost just the previous week.

You make it a whole family occasion with Esme toddling in to join in the photo opportunity and many snaps are taken amongst your little family of four, soon to be five.

“Perfect, baby girl!” You tell her, taking lots of pictures as you stare at them with a sense of nostalgia as all the sudden memories come to light of the several milestones Remi has achieved over the last 5 years, “You really are growing up, Remi Roo.”

“I don’t like it, it’s too many milestones at once,” Leah cracks under the pressure and shakes her head, wiping another stray tear away.

“Le,” Your facial expression softens as you wrap your arms around your wife to comfort her.

“It’s okay, Mummy!” Remi wraps her small arms around Leah’s legs, “Don’t be sad now! It’s gon’ be okay!”

“Me join!” Esme, not wanting to be left out, holds her hands up in the air for you to lift her up, “Mummy sad?” She asks, confused.

“A little bit,” You answer your youngest honestly.

“I make it better,” Esme declares, pressing a sloppy kiss on Leah’s cheek, “All better?”

“Much better, thank you Essie Bear,” Leah coos, returning a gentle kiss to Esme’s cheek.

“You can still cuddle me, even when I’m at big school!” Remi points out, peering up to look at your wife from where she’s stood, “It’s okay!”

“Oh, well in that case then I am definitely holding you to that,” Leah grins and scoops Remi up into her arms, “I’m gonna get in all the snuggles in that I can!” She says, squeezing her tightly.

“Alright, alright,” You break it up jokingly, “Let’s not smother her before she even makes it out the door for her first day.”

“Don’t you dare make fun of me,” Leah tells you, pointing her index finger in your face, “This is a big moment today.” She adds, placing Remi back down on the floor.

You snicker in amusement at your wife’s expense, “Oh don’t I know it? Big bad scary Leah Williamson crying over her little girl’s first day at big school,” You pause, the smirk not leaving your face, “Gosh, what will the world think?”

Your wife glares at you and gently swats you, “Shut up, I’m allowed to be emotional today.”

“Uh huh, and what’s the reason for every other day then?” You can’t help but wonder with a shit eating grin on your face.

“You’re lucky that I love you,” Leah murmurs, rolling her eyes at your antics to wind her up.

“And I love you too,” You reply, pecking her on the lips, “You’re the lucky one that I put up with you being a blubbering mess every time Remi does something that’s deemed ‘too grown up’,” You remind her, amusedly.

“I’m emotional, okay?” Leah exclaims, throwing her hands up in the air, “She’s our eldest, our baby… Our baby Gooner!”

“You can’t call me that anymore, Mummy!” Your 5 year old points out, “I’m not a baby!”

Your wife pouts at your daughter's words and shakes her head, “You will always be my baby, no matter how old you get,” She pauses, “Even when you’re 30 and you have your own family.”

Remi wrinkles her face up in disgust, “Boys are yucky, I don’t want a boyfriend.” She states,

“And you’re definitely right to think that,” You chuckle amusedly as you gather your small family out of the door and make your way to your wife’s BMW, “I think if Mummy had her way, she wouldn’t let you date until you’re 25 at least.” You joke.

“I’m ready to go in!” Remi announces, standing outside of the school gates in a tone that sounds far more grown up than her 5 year old self, “I’m not scared.”

“It’s good to not be scared, you’re going to have so much fun!” You tell her, holding her hand and guiding her through the gates of the school while Leah follows behind holding Esme’s hand, “You’re going to smash it, baby girl!”

“And we’ll be right here to pick you up when the day is done, okay?” Leah reassures your daughter, catching up with your toddler, who likes to walk at her own pace.

“Okay!” Your eldest nods in agreement, bouncing on her toes as she carries her backpack that looks way too big for her.

“Rem! Rem!” Esme shouts to get her big sister’s attention, “Rem!”

“I’m going to big school, Bear,” Remi crouches down and wraps her arms around her little sister, “But I’ll see you when I’m home and tell you all about it!”

Watching the exchange between your daughters, makes your heart swell with pride and a touch of bittersweetness.

“Miss ‘ou, Rem,” Esme pouts, a little frown forming on her tiny face as her voice wobbles, as if she’s on the verge of tears.

“Miss you too, Bear,” Remi continues to squeeze her little sister tightly, “I’ll be back later though, don’t worry!” She adds with a smile that reveals her recently lost tooth.

“Come here, you,” Leah crouches down to your daughter’s level and wraps her arms around her, squeezing her tightly as if to not let go and hold on to her forever, “I’m so proud of you, here at big school, eh?  You’re going to make so many friends and learn so much! Oh, and have a lot of fun as well!” She tells her.

“Mummy,” Remi attempts to wriggle away from your wife’s embrace, “You’re… You’re squeezing too tight.” She whines,

“I’m just soaking up the moment until you’re home from school,” Leah admits, pulling back and brushing a loose strand of hair behind Remi’s ear, “Big school, eh? I wish you would stop growing up so much on me, I don’t like it.” She jokes with her.

“You have to let me grow up, Mummy,” Remi’s giggle is infectious as she squeezes your wife again tightly, “I gots’ to go in now, but I’ll see you when you pick me up, remember?”

“We will be right here waiting for you,” You tell her, unable to crouch down properly with your swollen belly in the way, “We’re so proud of you, Remi Roo!” You add, kissing the top of her head.

You spot your daughters’ teacher making her way over to your family as she gives you both a kind smile, “Hi, Remi. Are you ready to go in?” She asks.

“Yes!” Remi excitedly replies, giving you both a final hug goodbye before she takes hold of her teachers’ hand and begins to walk in the building, “Bye, Mummy! Bye, Mumma! Bye, Bear!” She calls back, her voice ringing with excitement.

“Bye, baby Gooner,” Leah waved back, her voice catching slightly as you see the glimmer of tears threatening to spill over again.

You can feel your own chest tightening as you force a smile and wave, “See you later, Remi Roo. Have the best day!”

“Bye-bye, Rem! Love you!” Esme clings to Leah’s leg, waving frantically.

“Save your tears for the car, Le,” You tease, taking note of your wife’s eyes, the tears are a lot more visible now, “I know it’s hard to watch her go in there, but it’ll be 3 o’clock before we know it.” You add, hoping that helps things a little better.

“I know,” Leah murmurs in agreement, walking round to the pre-school that Esme attended next to the school.

You can say that dropping Esme off to pre-school wasn’t too hard, although there were extra tight hugs given before your youngest daughter ran off inside without a care in the world.

Much to your wife’s disappointment, and you swear the tears threaten to spill again.

“At least we know what your weakness is now,” You joke, climbing back into the passenger seat of the car after dropping them both off, “It’s only a few hours, remember? It’ll be here before we know it.” You tell her.

Leah tries to laugh it off and shake her head as she climbs into the driver's seat, “Yeah, and to think I still have to go to training,” She pauses as wipes a visible tear away as she buckles her seatbelt in, “I wish I could just tell Jonas that we have a family emergency.” She tells you.

It’s at that moment, you completely freeze as you feel a sudden wet patch on your leather seat.

 “Um, Le,” You mumble, getting her attention as she fiddles with the dials of the car to find the right music playlist, “I think you might need to call Jonas and tell him that there’s a family emergency.” You say.

Leah turns towards you and looks confused, “Why’s that, love?” She wonders.

“Well, because I’m 99% sure that my waters have just broken,” You admit, gazing down to motion to the seat.

It takes literal seconds for your wife’s eyes to widen in shock, “What? Here? Now?” She rambles in a clear panic, “Seriously? Oh my God!”

“Don’t panic,” You murmur, trying to keep the situation calm despite your best efforts – Your wife is very much in a complete panic over this.

“I’m not… I’m not panicking,” Leah stutters her words as she runs her hand through her hair, “What'd we do? Do you feel like you have contractions? We need to get the hospital bag from the house!” She continues to ramble.

You shake your head in disagreement, “I don’t feel like there’s any currently,” You pause, “We’ll go home, stay there until they start and head to the hospital when it’s time, yeah?” You suggest, trying to keep calm in the situation despite the one being hours away from giving birth.

“O… Okay,” Leah swallows the lump that’s formed in her throat, “We’ll go home, we’ll wait there– I need to call my Mum, she’ll need to pick the girls up.” She notes in realisation.

“Yeah, I somehow don’t think it’s going to be possible to be there for the 3 o’clock pick up after all,” You murmur, exhaling a sigh, “Little man has decided today’s the day to make his grand entrance into the world.”

Plans don’t always go as expected. You certainly didn’t expect to go into labour on the very same day that your eldest daughter started big school, but sometimes life takes you by complete surprise.

That day, life had a far bigger surprise than you or Leah could ever have imagined.

“This doesn’t feel right, you should be here,” Leah speaks aloud a few hours later, cradling your newborn son, Archie George Williamson at home  in her arms, knowing that you should be here to see this moment as well. 

His tiny breaths, soft and slow, his fingers curled into little fists – You’re not there to hold him yourself.

The labour had been far more complicated than anyone could have anticipated and you lost too much blood, and though they tried to save you, you never woke up after your son came into the world.

Leah's eyes are red from crying, but she’s holding herself together for the sake of the baby – For the sake of the three children that you’ve left behind while she strokes Archie’s head softly, “I hate that you aren’t here, I hate that my Mum had to pick Remi up on her first day," She murmurs, almost to herself, “We promised her we would both be there.”

The room feels empty without you, a hollow space where your laughter and warmth should be. Leah feels the ache of your absence in every corner, in every breath she takes.

“I hope you know how much your Mumma loved you already, little man,” The blonde whispers,  her heart breaking as she looks down at Archie, whose little face is scrunched up while he sleeps, “Believe me, she loved you so, so much from the minute we found out we were expecting you.”

As she takes a deep breath to steady herself, she continues to speak, “Our family might not be complete now, but you’re here, Archie Bug and we’ll make sure that you know all about her.”

There’s a quiet knock on the door and the sound of little feet thundering down the hallway as Amanda has brought Remi and Esme back from school. Leah wipes her eyes quickly, trying to put on a brave face as the door flies open.

“Mummy!” Remi shouts, her voice full of excitement, her hair now wild and free from it’s ponytail, running into the room with wide eyes, bright and full of curiosity, unaware of the loss that’s waiting to be explained.

“Mumma! Mummy!” Esme echoes, hot of her sister’s heels, her usual energetic self completely oblivious to the gravity of the situation.

“Shhh, girls,” Leah gently admonishes, holding up a finger to her lips, “We have to be quiet and use our inside voices.” She reminds them softly, her heart aching as she realises she’ll have to tell them soon.

Remi, always so observant, stops short and notices the bundle in Leah’s arms, but frowns when she doesn’t see you on the sofa like she thought she would, “Where’s Mumma?”

Leah’s smile falters, the weight of her grief momentarily overwhelming as she struggles to find the words, “Mumma… She’s not here anymore,” she says softly, her voice quivering.

Remi’s head tilts in confusion, not able to understand your wife’s words so much, “What do you mean, Mummy?” She asks as her eyes fix on Archie as she tiptoes over to Leah with exaggerated caution, “Is this him?”

“It is,” Leah responds, her voice trembling, “Girls, this is your baby brother, Archie.”

Esme’s face lights up with delight, “Baby?” She says, her voice high-pitched and curious, “My baby?” She asks.

“Your baby brother,” Leah corrects with a small, sad smile as she continues to hold Archie in her arms.

Amanda, who has walked through the house with Jacob, peers over to look at her new grandson, “He’s perfect, Bubba.” She says, sharing a sad smile with her daughter.

Jacob scoops Esme up into his arms to give her a better look at your newborn, “He’s very little still, Es, so you have to be very gentle with him.” He tells her.

Remi leans in closer, her little face filled with wonder, “He’s tiny, Mummy,” She reaches out, carefully touching Archie’s tiny hand, “He’s smaller than my dollies.”

Leah laughs softly, tears threatening again, “He is, isn’t he?” She pauses to settle Archie down in his Moses basket, “But he’ll grow up to be big and strong, just like you.”

Jacob sets Esme down next to Remi, watching the two girls stare at their brother in the Moses basket as Amanda takes the moment to wrap her arms around her daughter to comfort her.

Wanting to be brave for her children, Leah wipes away any visible tears and plasters on a fake smile as she looks in the direction of her daughters, “What do you think, Essie Bear?” She asks, catching the moment that Esme tries to reach out and poke Archie’s cheek gently, “Gentle, Essie.” She reminds her with a soft smile.

Archie just lets out a soft sigh but still remains asleep, already learning to find comfort in the noise around him.

“He likes it, Mummy,” Esme declares confidently, trying to reach out and poke him again.

“We have to be gentle with him, Es. He’s only little,” Leah tells her softly, her voice catching in her throat.

Remi glances up at Leah, “Mummy, will he like Arsenal, like you do?” She asks, curiously.

“I mean I hope so, but if not then that’s okay too,” Leah answers honestly, pushing past the weight in her chest, “Just as long as he doesn’t follow uncle Jacob and support Spurs.” She jokes, trying to make light of the situation despite how heartbroken she feels inside.

“Of course you just had to get in there, didn’t you?” Jacob rolls his eyes, shaking his head in amusement.

“What? We’re a family full of Gooners in this house,”  Leah shrugs, trying to hold onto the joy in the room, “Just as long as all 3 of my kids are happy then that’s all that matters to me now.”

“Can I hold him, Mummy? Please?” Remi leans in closer, looking at Leah with those big, hopeful eyes that match her own.

Leah nods with a smile that almost feels real, “Okay, Rem, but you have to sit down and be very still, okay?” She instructs gently.

Remi eagers nods and hops onto the chair beside the bed, her little legs dangling off the edge as she waits in anticipation to hold Archie. Leah gently lifts the sleeping baby from his Moses basket, cradling his body with steady hands, though her heart feels anything but, as she slowly places him into Remi’s waiting arms.

“Hi, Archie,” Remi’s face lights up with pure delight, her grin stretching from ear to ear as she cradles her baby brother with such tender care in the world, “I’m Remi, I’m your big sister and I love you lots!” she whispers, her voice filled with awe.

“He loves you lots too, Rem,” Leah whispers back, her voice breaking just a little, how she wishes you were to see this, to be part of this moment.

“My turn next!” Esme declares, standing on her tiptoes, trying to peek over Remi’s shoulder, “My turn!” She repeats, a little too loud as Leah quickly hushes her with a finger to her lips.

“Soon, Essie Bear,” Leah promises, brushing a hand through Esme’s curly hair, “Remi’s just having a cuddle first, see?”

Esme nods eagerly, her face scrunched up in concentration as she watches her sister carefully, “Okay, I wait,” She whispers, “He’s cute, Mummy.”

“He is, isn’t he?” Leah agrees, her smile wobbly but genuine as she looks down at Archie before leaning down to kiss the top of Esme’s head, “He looks just like you when you were born as well. Tiny and perfect.”

As Leah watches her three children, she feels the weight of your absence, an ache that will never fully leave but she knows that no matter what, she needs to be strong for them now. Making sure that they never forget you, she will keep your memory alive in every way that she can.

Because even though you’re not here, your love is and Leah will make sure that’s enough.

© scribblesofagoonerr

[strawberrycarat]

Why there are a lot of people suddenly concerning Ewan is "not genuine" or they miss "the old pixel days" because they thought that was the "real Ewan" ? He's an actor, actors must promote their work (unless they're so successful or so known they don't have to do it, which is so rare and only among the top of the stars of Hollywood).

Is Ewan shy ? Probably. We don't know him personally. We can guess he is for what he shows in interviews or what other co-stars say about him (all of them talking positive about Ewan btw).

So why the change ? Because HE'S AN ACTOR ! And one that is starting to ascend so he must be more active with his career. If he wants to keep acting lead and/or interesting roles, he has to obtain some sort of recognition from the public because, let's being honest, it's not a career that is always kind with the most talented people out there. To become a successful actor or artist, in general, you NEED that. And Ewan is not an exception. So, if he doesn't want to have social media, he must promote himself somewhere else, right ? Like interviews, magazine photos, etc.

And even with his interviews, Ewan is a mystery to myself and others. He talks mostly about his roles, and he keeps his private life within himself (like there are tiny details about him or his mates or his hobbies, but that's it - in comparison with other actors, it's practically nothing).

Does the agency has something to do with Ewan's "new attitude" most likely. It's an agency ! They are aware Ewan is getting a lot of attention (more than before, with the Last Kingdom, for example, where they didn't "force" him to go to conventions - I remember one of his co-stars said Ewan was most likely never appear in one of those ? - and he did ! why ? because he needs to promote since he's one of the leads). Does this mean he hates it ? Probably not ! it's, after all, the result of his work (having fans, traveling around the world, being recognized for his hard, hard work). Does this mean he stopped being shy ? probably not, but, if he wants to be a good representative of the show and his own brand (because, again, he's an actor, he's selling his entire image!) he needs to act accord to the situation. It is clear he still has some kind of "shy ticks" (like looking at the ground sometimes or repeating the same word to continue the flow with his speech or even playing with his hands). A shy person can still become "extrovert" when the situation requires - like a presentation or something really important.

So, with the agency... it is clear they're helping Ewan all they can (otherwise we'll probably get him in Adidas all the time) so they probably got him a team to help him dress, PR stuff, etc. It doesn't mean he's not being genuine with this "new personality" -as some called- on the interviews or his interactions with fans... it only means he's doing his job. It Is clear Ewan is a private person and probably want to keep a lot of things hidden (it's, after all, his choice to share or not), but as an actor, a not so recognized actor in this moment -yes, he's getting attention for Aemond, but in the reality he doesn't have the fame-level as Matt Smith, for example- so he must work for it so he can have more work opportunities.

This, of course, is only my opinion as a fan that admires his work and his persona (at least what we can see from this side).

[venus-haze]

Celebrity Skin (Thomas Hewitt x Reader)

Summary:  Your rollercoaster of a film career comes to its untimely end when you end up on Thomas Hewitt’s cutting room floor. He hopes you’ll be as much of a fan of his work as he is yours.

Note: Female reader, implied to be older than Thomas, but no other descriptors are used. This is mostly from Tommy’s perspective and extremely dark and bleak, so look at the warnings before deciding whether or not you want to read this. Do not interact if you’re under 18 or post thinspo/ED content. 

Word count: 2k

Warnings: DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. Explicit and implied non-con, mentions of animal death and cannibalism, kidnapping, Hoyt is pretty much his own warning. Implied major character death. Hurt no comfort. No happy ending. Do not interact if you’re under 18.

Hollywood was never going to see you again. No one would, as a matter of fact. That much had been set in stone as soon as you sped through Fuller, Texas. Ghost town. Full of nobodies and hicks. A pass-through on the road trip you’d treated yourself to after landing a movie with Paul Newman. He’d never see you again, either.

Almost as soon as you passed the county line, going 60 in a clearly marked 45, sirens blared behind you, and you cursed as you pulled over. You should’ve never pulled over.

“Got a good one for ya here Tommy,” Hoyt said, slapping the meat of your thigh as he presented you to the hulking man. “Says she’s some kinda actress.” He leaned in close to your face, a mean grin on his own. “Sure good at actin’ like she don’t want it.”

Your lips were split, dried blood and semen on your mouth and face. Could barely manage a snarl at his uncle, but you tried. 

“Bet you’re gonna taste real sweet, pumpkin,” Hoyt taunted, smacking his lips before pushing you to Thomas.

You didn’t cry or scream as Thomas dragged you down to the basement. Hoyt beat that out of you already. Mean and vicious on the side of the road, or maybe in the back of his squad car. Didn’t matter. You were all but resigned to your fate until Thomas laid you down on his butcher’s block, securing you to it with the usual metal cuffs, deftly hammered in place. You only began struggling when you caught a glimpse of the knives and blades displayed prominently throughout his workshop. Too late.

Thomas paused, staring at your face, screwed up in pathetic agony as you begged him for mercy you wouldn't receive. Recognized it from somewhere. You had looked different, though. Face made-up, eyes glistening, hair perfectly styled. Like a dream. 

He leaned in closer, and you blinked, teary-eyes transporting him back to his youth. Unforgiving summer breaks where he’d wake up early to help out on the farm before the heat of the day settled in. Sometimes his mama would scrounge up some change for him to go to Fuller’s lone movie theater in the afternoon. ‘Get a break from this heat, honey.’ She knew full well that wasn’t what drew him there. The darkness, the anonymity, for once everyone else was faceless and hidden like him. He wasn’t the main attraction, not even the sideshow.

It’d been years since he stepped foot in that theater. Slowly stopped going after Hoyt got him the job at the slaughterhouse. Just like that, though, he remembered you. A film noir wherein you were cast as the leading lady to a man who may as well have been old enough to be your father, but you looked like you loved him. Especially when you cried for him, tears sparkling as they silently, regally rolled down your pretty face one by one. 

Over time, femme fatales fell out of fashion, and so had you not long after he’d stopped going to the movies. He’d catch glimpses of you, though. Staring at him from the cover of magazines like a star-crossed lover whenever you had a new movie coming out, less frequent as time went on. He was barely sixteen when he swiped a copy of Modern Screen, your enticing, full-color portrait on the cover, chock-full of interviews, gossip, and most importantly, photos. A ball gown and come-hither stare. Lounging half-naked poolside. In a skimpy black dress with a fox fur piece draped around your neck, cigarette holder between your pretty lips as you leaned over a bar, your cleavage nearly spilling out from your dress. 

That one had made him feel funny. Made his pants tighter around the crotch as his imagination ran wild. Thought about presenting you with a cat pelt he’d skinned and sewn up himself. Instead of running and screaming in fear like the girls at school, you’d accept it graciously, wearing it like the fine fox fur. A gentle hand on his chest, simpering eyes as you asked softly how you could ever repay him because he was your leading man. A kiss on his cheek, and then more. So much more.

Back then, he never considered how pretty you’d look when you cried for him. Grabbing a nearby pair of rusty scissors, he cut through your clothes, damp from sweat and spit and god knew what else, stuck to your skin. He peeled them off of you, unwrapping his once in a lifetime gift and wasting no time in touching your bare stomach that seized beneath his touch. His hands drifted upward, taking each of your soft breasts in his big hands, rough and calloused from years of hard labor. He brushed his thumbs against your nipples, raised from exposure to the cool air in his basement hovel. Pinching one between his fingers, he tugged on it, eliciting a whimper from you as the skin painfully stretched to its limit until he finally let go.

Frustrated by your barrage of pleas and protests, he grabbed a nearby rag and shoved it in your mouth. You gagged, senses overwhelmed by the taste of rancid blood and unidentifiable bodily fluids. He pressed his fingers against your abused cunt, marveling in the wetness as you whined like a stupid little deer that’d gotten its leg blown off during the hunt, strained bleating to be put out of its misery with a bullet to the head or a snap of its neck. 

He growled, pressing his masked lips to yours, the friction from the leather re-opening the cuts that had split along your lips. You choked on your makeshift gag, tears streaming down your dirty face. He was almost dizzy. Or maybe he was in love–sweaty palms, racing hearts, an animalistic urge to possess, to mark, to maim. 

Hoyt was the one who eventually caught him with the magazine. Being a bit too loud, he supposed. Instead of the tongue lashing he’d been expecting, he received a proud pat on the back instead, ‘Nothin’ to be ashamed of Tommy. You’re a man. ‘s natural after all,' Hoyt said. 'Try to keep it quiet ‘round mama, though. She still thinks you’re innocent.’

Innocent. Despite how much his mama tried, he hadn’t been innocent in a long time. You hadn’t been either. Your romantic trysts were in headlines or discussed on radio gossip programs. Those had been frequent, and his brow furrowed as he wondered who the hell you were to deny him. Hollywood floozy. Too good for him, just like every other woman.

He unzipped his pants, pulling his length from his pants and feeling himself growing harder at your muffled screams of protest. His size. He knew he was big, far too big for you to handle, but you’d make it work. As if you had any other choice. 

Stroking his length with one hand, he scratched at your belly with his blunt nails on the other hand, shuddering at the fleeting thought of you bigger, pregnant with his child. With a ragged breath, Thomas positioned his cock in front of your aching cunt, reveling in your whines as he pushed in just the tip, feeling you strain around him, warm and soft. ‘I love you, Tommy,’ you had purred in his fantasies. ‘I want you to make me yours. Give me everything.’

He grunted as he buried his length deeper in you, a high-pitched squeal in return. His face felt hot beneath his mask, his cock twitching as your pussy clenched around him. You wanted it. You wouldn’t be so wet and pliant if you didn’t. Grabbing your hips, he slammed his hips against yours, burying his face in your neck, feeling how your throat strained to express your pain despite the gag. How easily he could grab a nearby knife and cut through the tender flesh, knowing just where to slice so he could watch your blood pour out of you, probably sparkling and pretty like your tears. It was perfect, you were perfect. Better than he’d ever imagined.

Pressing his body weight against you, he pinned you further, your twisting torso trapped in place beneath him as he relentlessly pounded into you, his huge cock pushing your cunt to its limits, and even further than that when he hit your cervix. Your tears poured down your cheeks, blood trickling between your legs. He was so close, he could almost reach out and touch it.

He wanted to keep you around. Wasn’t sure how he could make an appeal to mama or Hoyt, though. Probably useless around the house, let alone the farm, just a pretty face for his own amusement. ‘Another mouth to feed,’ he could practically hear Hoyt snarl. He still felt bad about Uncle Monty, now he was a burden on mama and Hoyt too. Making an exception for you would be far too much to ask. Besides, he never had luck keeping pets growing up. Was always too rough with them, too morbidly curious. Maybe it’d be different with you. 

Glancing at the chainsaw beside him, he slammed into you again, his dark gaze fixed on the blood-rusted power tool.

No. It wouldn’t be. Because being this deep inside you made him only want to go deeper, see the extent of his love. Watch your heart beating in your chest for him. Stand over you as you bled out, rib cage cracked open in the ultimate display of vulnerability. You’d provide for his family, and he’d savor every moment, every bite that touched his lips, feeling you inside him. It was the only way. You’d be a part of him forever. Till death do you part.

He came with a loud groan, a primal howl muffled by his mask. Your abused pussy milked his cock until his seed spilled inside you, and his length became soft again. Laying his head on your heaving chest, he listened to your heartbeat. Rapid like a little mouse. 

Nuzzling his face against your breasts, he settled against your warm skin, basking in it while he still could. You’d be even warmer once he opened you up. All too familiar with that sensation. He closed his eyes, though, imagining you lovingly running your fingers through his hair, a sweet, fucked out smile on your face. But there was no place for a man like him in Hollywood, and no place for a woman like you in Fuller. Star-crossed. What a shame.

You had stopped making noises through your gag, either too exhausted or simply resigned to your fate, only whimpering when he finally pulled out of you, your pussy feeling almost painfully empty. Eyes glazed over, they fluttered shut for a moment, but opened as soon as his hand caressed your cheek, pulling the rag from your mouth. 

He watched silently as you sucked in a much needed breath, bringing on a coughing fit with how dry your throat was. You dissolved in a fit of sobs that echoed in this vast underbelly of terror, exacerbated by his attempt to kiss your forehead, pressing the leather against the deep lines in your distressed face. You struggled weakly, fruitlessly against the metal cuffs that secured you to the table.

Unlike in your movies, there was no one to save you this time, no gruff private eye or surly police chief to come in guns blazing at the last minute. Hoyt had already made you well aware he was no admirable man of the law. You were lucky to have ended up with Thomas. He thought the screams that came from the women Hoyt kept around–albeit temporarily–were more difficult to listen to than that of someone he was disembodying. 

Sadistic. Thomas never considered himself such, but he understood the appeal of ravaging, tearing apart in a display of power that never failed to send adrenaline running through his veins. He would savor your demise, his magnum opus, unable to imagine someone else coming along and piquing his interest as much as you had.

He revved the chainsaw, taking in your raw screams as he raised it over his head. Lamented not having a camera around to capture how perfect you looked awaiting your end at his hands. It’s what you were made for. His movie star on the cutting room floor.

[mavrintarou]

Wipe Your Eyes [5]

Happy birthday Sakusa Kiyoomi

Warning: none just Kiyoomi trying to be better and do better

Fourth Part - Sixth part

.

Kiyoomi despised this sensation, the feeling of treading on eggshells and thin ice. It reminded him of the time when he was first getting to know Y/n years ago, as if they were starting from scratch once more.

He can’t remember the last time his palms were this sweaty.

He glanced down at Y/n, who walked beside him as they entered the clinic to undergo their first ultrasound for their baby.

Y/n adamantly refused to take a seat in her wheelchair, so it remained stored in the trunk of his car, kept there just in case.

With a determination expression, she walked into the clinic, having woken up early to get ready. Kiyoomi had observed her as she went through various clothing options in their walk-in closet. He had prepared a fresh glass of orange juice, having read that it helps with morning sickness, even though he noticed she hadn’t experienced any morning sickness yet.

Letting out a deep sigh, he mustered up the courage to make his move. He extended his hand, gently intertwining their fingers together. From the corner of his eyes, he noticed her gaze shifting towards their entwined hands, before lifting her gaze to meet his.

She doesn’t say anything, but allowed him to hold her hand, leading them to the front desk to check in.

“Sakusa Y/n,” Kiyoomi answered when asked about the name for the patient.

If there was one thing besides Y/n herself that Kiyoomi had desired after their marriage, itw as for her to take his last name. He vividly recalled the surge of pride and joy he felt when she signed the papers to officially change her name to Sakusa Y/n.

The lady narrows her eyes at him in curiosity before asking, “are you MSBY Black Jackals’ outside hitter Sakusa Kiyoomi by any chance?”

“Yes?” Y/n could hear the suspiciousness in his tone. “Why do you ask?”

“Kiyoomi,” Y/n calls his name softly and calmly, she looks at the front desk lady, “this is the Sakusa Kiyoomi.”

Her face immediately lit up, “my twelve-year-old son is a huge fan of you, Mr. Sakusa. May I please have a photo of you to show him?”

Y/n looks up at him and he can see how her eyes crinkle, smiling underneath her mask. She tugs her hand to step aside but Kiyoomi held on, “let the lady take a picture of you, hmm?”

He grunts and lets her hand go, tugging his mask down. He looks straight at the lady with his signature serious look.

“Smile,” Y/n whispered.

The corner of his lips curved into a fleeting smile, revealing his hidden dimples for a brief moment, just as the lady snapped a photo. “Thank you,” she smiled, “you may sit in the yellow zone over there; the nurse will call you in a bit.”

Kiyoomi takes Y/n’s hand again, leading her in the pointed direction. He pulls her to the first seat available.

“I’m pregnant, Kiyoomi, not fragile,” she assured him, watching as he let out a soft sigh.

He crouched down in front of her, “I know you’re fine, and your legs aren’t hurting,” he replied, his voice filled with relief. “I just worry too much sometimes; I’ll try to relax.”

“Yes, breathe, Omi,” Her fingers push the loose curls back in place.

How can I when you want to leave me? He thought to himself.

“Sakusa Y/n?”

Y/n exhales softly, “let’s go see our baby.”

. .

Kiyoomi’s hand fumbles as the nurse talks through the appointment, “ready?”

They both nodded their heads, silently watching the nurse pulls Y/n’s shirt up. “Just going to squeeze some jelly here…”

Kiyoomi glances at Y/n, noticing her hand squeezing his own, her grip tightened by anxiety. He gently placed his other hand over hers, providing a reassuring touch. She turned her head to look at their intertwined hands before meeting his gaze, her eyes searching for solace.

Like earlier, it was his turn to remind her - he mouthed breathe and she let out a soft exhale before turning her attention back to the screen.

“There you are…”

As Kiyoomi gazed up at the small monitor, it took a moment for his eyes to adjust and comprehend what he was seeing. And then, his focus sharpened, and his heart rate and breath slowed as he took in the sight before him – a tiny, precious glob that held so much meaning and love.

“Looking at your test results looks like you’re about twelve going on to thirteen weeks pregnant.” The nurse glances at both Kiyoomi and Y/n, “congratulations mom and dad.”

. .

Safely tucked inside his back pocket, Kiyoomi carried the four small ultrasound images with utmost care. The nurse had kindly obliged has requested extra copies, and he couldn’t contain his excitement and joy as he held those precious snapshots of their unborn child.

Will their baby be a boy or a girl?

Will they look more like him? Or Y/n?

He prayed they don’t inherit his curly hair.

“’Yoomi.”

Breaking out of his trance, Kiyoomi glanced at Y/n beside him, noticing her expression. He immediately halted his steps and positioned himself in front of her. “Are you okay?” he asked softly, concern etched on his face.

She nodded gently, “yes, you’re just walking too fast for me,” she admitted, her voice filled with understanding.

His expression softened, and he planted a gentle kiss on her forehead. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I got too excited about the baby.”

Their eyes locked in a moment longer than expected, and Y/n whispered, “me too.”

Kiyoomi’s heart skipped a beat, pounding against his chest. “I love you,” he said, a mixture of tenderness and excitement in his voice. “Let’s go find something to eat.”

. .

“Why don’t the first session or two be just you and then we can include your wife after?”

“Sure,” Kiyoomi agreed, it wasn’t what he wanted but if the therapist suggested it, he wasn’t going to go against it. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning then.”

Walking out of Y/n’s office, he walks right past the master bedroom before stopping and backtracking. Leaning against the doorway, he watches Y/n sleep soundlessly. She’s sitting upright against the headboard with her head tilted to the right.

Kiyoomi couldn’t help but notice the increasing frequency of Y/n’s naps, a detail he learned from the pregnancy book he had diligently read. He found himself closely observing her as she dozed off, concern and curiosity intermingling in his thoughts.

As quietly and gently as possible, Kiyoomi pulls the cover back to lift her up and lay her down. Her eyes open and he grabs the cover, quickly pulling it over her. “I don’t want your neck to hurt later.”

Y/n’s tired eyes locked with his, and she reached out to grab his wrist. “Hold me, please?” she whispered, a longing in her words that tugged at his heartstrings. Without hesitation, Kiyoomi climbed into bed beside her, his movements gentle and deliberate. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to him, ensuring that she felt safe and enveloped in his warmth. Their bodies molded together, offering a comforting embrace that reassured her in the most profound way.

After a few minutes, Kiyoomi reached over to grab an additional pillow, adjusting it to provide support for his neck. He carefully shifted Y/n in his arms, making slight adjustments until he found a position of comfort for both of them. As he gazed down at her, his mind inevitably wandered back to the painful moments when everything in their relationship had started to crumble.

Kiyoomi couldn’t ignore the change in his own attitude that had occurred a few months back. The memories of the handful of times he had snapped at Y/n for trivial matters. He knew his behavior had hurt her, and he regretted the pain he caused.

Dishes are not dried and put away.

Folding his pants, the wrong way.

Her shoes that were in the way and not on the shoe rack.

Y/n lets out a deep breath in her sleep and Kiyoomi tightens his arms around her, pulling her closer.

His lips pressed gently against her forehead.

Kiyoomi made a resolute decision.

He was determined to save his marriage, to mend the fractures that had formed between them. With unwavering commitment, he vowed to put in the effort and work needed to rebuild their relationship and create a future together filled with love, understanding and forgiveness. . .

Speaking to a stranger seated across from him proved to be a challenging task. The weight of the conversation pressed on Kiyoomi’s shoulders, making it difficult for him to find the right words. The unfamiliarity and lack of shared history made opening up even more daunting, adding to the complexity of the situation.

“It’s okay, take your time.” Dr. Kitagowa assured.

Kiyoomi wiped his sweaty palms on his pants, feeling the nervousness bubbling within him. He took a deep breath, gathering the courage to share his past. “Growing up, my parents argued a lot,” he began, his voice carrying a hint of vulnerability. “My older sister, brother and I would often retreat to our rooms whenever they fought. It became a pattern, something I learned to avoid and suppress.”

“What did they fight about?”

Memories resurfaced at the question and Kiyoomi exhaled. “They fought about various things, stupid things,” he replied, “money, responsibilities, misunderstanding… it seemed like there was always something. The arguments were intense, and it created an atmosphere of tension in our household.”

“Was that it?”

“My mom… accused him of cheating. Having a mistress…”

“Did he?”

Kiyoomi learned to shut those memories out. He never knew. His mother’s relentless accusation of his father having a mistress, and his father denying all allegations. The constant back-and-forth created a toxic dynamic within their family, leaving Kiyoomi and his two siblings in the middle of their disputes. It was a painful chapter of his life, one that he had tried to block out and bury.

“I don’t know…”

Dr. Kitagowa scribbled notes down on his notepad before asking the next question, “what happened next?”

Kiyoomi’s voice wavered slightly as he continued to open up about his past. “My parents’ conflicts eventually reached a breaking point,” he shared, his words tinged a mix of sadness and resignation. “They decided to get a divorce during my first year of high school.”

“How did that make you feel?”

He let out a bitter chuckle, “it was a challenging time for all of us, filled with uncertainty and upheaval. I remember feeling lost as if the ground beneath me had shifted.”

“Was that how you truly felt?”

Kiyoomi’s gaze soften as he recalled how his family found their own paths after the divorce. “Yes, in a way, they did stop arguing,” he admitted. “But the divorce brought it’s own set of challenges. There was a sense of loss, not just from their relationship, but also of the family dynamic I had known. It took time to adjust to the new reality, and it left me with a cautious approach towards relationships and a fear of experiencing the same turmoil.”

He felt like he was walking in his father’s exact shoes.

“What about your father?”

“After my dad moved out, my mom focused on taking care of us and ensuring we had stability in our lives. She worked hard to provide for us, and I’m grateful for her dedication. Eventually, she found happiness again and remarried her current husband. It wasn’t an easy journey, but it taught me the importance of resilience and finding joy even in difficult times.”

“What was your parent’s career?”

Kiyoomi sighed, his memories weaving together with his words. “My dad was a professional volleyball player, and his passion for the sport rubbed off on me. He taught me the basics, and I quickly developed a love for the sport. As for my mom, she worked as a nurse, dedicating herself to helping others. Both of them have since retired from their careers and are enjoying a more relaxed pace of life.”

Those days were a blur for Kiyoomi. His dad rarely visited; he accepted a long-term position playing for Italy. His mom kept herself busy with work while his two older siblings were off to college. They kept in touch with him while he was the only one living at home with his mom. He kept himself occupied with volleyball and earned his title during his high school years.

“How did you cope during these times?”

“Volleyball.”

Volleyball was the only thing that didn’t leave him.

Until he met Y/n during their college years.

Kiyoomi was having lunch alone in the cafeteria one day, annoyed by the unnecessary loudness around him. Amidst the chaos, his eyes caught sight of her. She stood out from the crowd, wearing a black mask just like his. As he observed her from a distance, he couldn’t help but be captivated by her presence. Her graceful movements, the way she carried herself with confidence and a hint of mystery, intrigued him. It was as if she possessed an aura that set her apart from everyone else.

He then saw the sign; it was the Writing Club that was having a bakery sale.

He found himself at the table, uncertain of how he ended up there, but instinctively reaching for a bag of sugar cookies. Oddly enough, he wasn’t particularly fond of sweets.

“That’ll be $5 dollars.” She smiled so beautifully up at him and Kiyoomi fished out a $20 dollar bill.

“Keep the change.”

Her eyes widen, “you sure?”

“My donation.”

He turned his heels and hurried away before she could see the blush from beneath his mask.

Kiyoomi would run into her thereafter.

“Are you available tonight?” His tone unintentionally conveyed a touch of urgency, more than he intended.

She gazed at him with wide, innocent eyes, softly responding, “yes?”

His heart raced and pounded forcefully in his chest. “Would you… be interested in coming to my game?” he asked.

Kiyoomi’s heart leaped with joy as the corner of her lips curved into a sweet smile. She briefly glanced down, her cheeks turning a delicate shade of pink, before meeting his gaze again. “I’ll see you later,” she whispered, leaving him with a warmth that lingered long after she walked away.

Three months passed, and finally, he mustered the courage to ask her out.

Two years later, he got down on one knee and asked to be with her forever.

She was his constant light, even more, constant than volleyball.

Despite disagreements, she still chose him.

Kiyoomi was well aware of his own stubborn nature, recognizing that he could be as unyielding as a rock. He understood that loving him could be a challenging endeavor.

Tears welled up in his eyes as he gazed out the window. “Volleyball and Y/n were my lifelines,” he whispered softly. “She was my foundation, providing stability when I felt lost, and yet she also allowed me to adapt and evolve, urging me to become a better version of myself.”

Dr. Kitagowa’s pen scribbled, the room was so quiet Kiyoomi could hear the pen marking the paper loud and clear.

“How would you describe your relationship with your wife?”

Kiyoomi took a deep breath, his eyes fixed on the tranquil cup of water in front of him. “She’s my first girlfriend, my first in so many ways,” he confessed, his voice filled with a mixture of awe and vulnerability. “You see, I’ve never been the most friendly or approachable person, but Y/n… she’s like a flawless being. Kind, beautiful… she’s the light that shines through my darkest moments. Being with her fills me with immeasurable happiness. I struggle to express my emotions, but when I asked her to be my girlfriend, she brought me the greatest joy I’ve ever known.” He let out a soft sigh, a tender smile gracing his lips. “And when I proposed, and she said yes, nothing else in the world mattered to me but her.”

He continued, his voice filling with regret. “She always went above and beyond to make sure I knew she loved me…” his voice cracked, overcome with emotion. “I knew… I should have tried harder, not less, after we got married. I knew… I was falling short. I knew I was taking her for granted…” a tear escaped, tracing a path down his cheek. “I could see it, two years into our marriage. Her eyes weren’t as bright as they once were. Her voice no longer…”

Kiyoomi leans forward, elbows on his knees as his palms covered his face – allowing the tears to spill.

“Here’s some tissue, Mr. Sakusa.”

Reaching over, Kiyoomi delicately takes two pieces of tissue and gently dabs his eyes, feeling the weight of his emotions. It had been a considerable amount of time since he last shed tears, the previous occasion being when Y/n accepted his proposal of marriage. It was a vulnerable moment had kept hidden from Y/n, an intimate detail shared only with his own heart.

“I’m turning into my father,” he muttered, sitting upright, his voice filled with frustration. “Just like him.” He blew his nose, attempting to compose himself. “My parents were high school sweethearts. She was his entire world… just as Y/n is mine.” He lets out a sharp exhale, his gaze shifting to Dr. Kitagowa. “It feels like some kind of curse, but I refuse to succumb to it. I don’t want my marriage to Y/n to crumble like my parents. I have a child on the way, I refuse to become a single parent. I know I need to change, and I’m genuinely willing to make that change to ensure the success of my marriage.”

. .

Y/n gently massaged her calves, feeling the familiar ache that often set in when she had been on her feet for an extended period of time. Constantly reminding herself that she was still in the process of healing, Y/n knew she needed to prioritize taking it easy and not push herself too hard.

Taking a seat in her work chair, she continued to answer some work emails, her fingers typing on autopilot. However, her mind wandered elsewhere, distracted by thoughts that refused to be confined to the realm of work.

“I love you Kiyoomi, I just don’t think I’m in love with you anymore.”

The moment the words left her mouth, a wave of regret washed over her. She instantly realized the gravity of what she had said, yet she found herself unable to retract them, trapped in a mix of guilt and inability to take back her words.

She still in love with Kiyoomi.

Y/n was acutely aware of the power of hurtful words, understanding how they had the potential to inflict deep wounds and cause immense pain. She knew all too well the sharpness with which they could slice through someone’s emotions, leaving lasting scars in their wake.

The agonizing expression on Kiyoomi’s face at the time she uttered those words lingered in her mind, haunting her relentlessly ever since. The memory of his pain served as a constant reminder of the hurt she had inflicted, adding to her own remorse and sorrow.

Leaning back into her chair, Y/n found herself instinctively resting her hands on her belly, even though she hadn’t started showing yet. She absentmindedly began to rub her tummy, a natural and soothing gesture that brought a sense of comfort in that moment.  

Her thoughts are disrupted when she hears the beeping of their front door.

Kiyoomi?

Was he back from his therapy session?

She heard the door closing and she was about to call his name when footsteps hurried down the hall.

Getting up she barely catches Kiyoomi running into their bedroom with a hand over his mouth.

“Kiyoomi?”

She hurried after him to see him dart right into their master bathroom.

Her eyes widened in shock as she witnessed him kneeling over the toilet bowl, his face contorted in discomfort as he vomited out his breakfast.

“Don’t,” he snapped, hastily extending his hand to signal her not to come any closer. “I’ll be fine,” he reassured, his voice strained with discomfort.

Ignoring him, Y/n grabbed a towel, quickly running it under warm water, and instead of giving it to him – she wiped his face and mouth.

After flushing the toilet, he slumped down against the wall, his body still heaving with the aftermath of his ordeal.

Kiyoomi’s complexion appeared pale, and his face showed signs of exhaustion, indicating the toll of his sickness had taken on him.

“What happened?” Y/n asked worried, wiping his face. She gets up to grab a bottle of water from their cabinet that Kiyoomi often stocked up.

He sips and gurgle water, spitting it into the toilet bowl. “I was fine until I got home…” He relaxed against the wall, closing his eyes.

“Come, change and go lay down.” She reached out to pull him up, her petite frame reminded her of the noticeable height difference between them.

She gently pulled at his shirt, carefully removing it and tossing it into the laundry basket. Making her way to their shared closet, she selected one of his many black shirts.

Meanwhile, Kiyoomi discarded his pants, adding them to the growing pile in the laundry basket, leaving him standing there in his boxer briefs.

Y/n felt a sudden warmth spread across her cheeks as if it were the first time she had seen her husband in such a state of undress.

“Here,” she hands him the shirt, looking away.

Kiyoomi takes it without a word and walks over to the sink to wash his face.

Exiting the bathroom, Y/n made her way to their bed, gently tugging the covers. Kiyoomi followed and dropped onto their bed.

With tender affection, Y/n pulled the covers over him, arranging them in place with a nurturing touch reminiscent of caring for a child. The act carried a sense of intimacy and tenderness, reinforcing the bond they shared as partners and companions.

“Can I get you anything?” She asked, pushing his curls.

He shakes his head, closing his eyes. “No, but don’t be on your feet for too long, and make sure to eat, okay?”

“Yes, Yomi,” Y/n answered, rolling her eyes, and leaving him to rest.

.

Y/n turns her computer off for the day and goes to check on Kiyoomi for the nth time. It’s been four hours and she has checked on him a few times – finding him sleeping soundlessly.

“Kiyoomi?” Y/n called softly, seeing the bed empty with the comforters thrown half across the bed. She heads to the bathroom and knocks on the door, “Kiyoomi, are you okay?”

On the other side, she could hear him gagging.

The door was locked as she tried to turn the door knob. “Omi! Omi open the door for me please.”

He was not prone to falling ill often, but when sickness did manage to take hold, it tended to hit him hard, usually resulting in severe symptoms.

The door clicks and opens, he looks at her with the same pale face from earlier as he wipes his mouth with his hand. He walked past her and back into bed.

“Let’s go to the hospital.” Y/n pleaded, trailing behind him.

“No,” he answered, getting back into bed, and pulling the covers over his shoulder, “I’ll get over it. It’s probably a bug.”

.

Four days later, Y/n pleaded with him to visit the hospital and get his condition checked by a medical provider.

By this point, exhaustion had taken its toll on him. Every time he attempted to eat or drink something, it would inevitably be regurgitated within minutes to hours, leaving him in a constant state of discomfort and fatigue.

He couldn’t keep anything down and had absolutely zero energy.

He was bedridden.

Y/n taken the last few days off to watch over him, even if it was just him sleeping most of the time.

He surrendered himself to her embrace, his tall 6’3” frame seeking solace in the cozy confines of her small, petite form. In between the moments of rushing to the bathroom, he found peace in deep slumber, snuggled tightly against her side. His long arms enveloped her waist, providing a sense of security and comfort amidst his illness.

Occasionally, she had to gently rouse him from his sleep to sip on small amounts of apple juice, the only thing they could manage to keep down. It became a routine, carefully coaxing him to drink the soothing liquid, hoping it would provide him with some nourishment and relief from his persistent sickness.

He let out a soft groan against her chest, his words barely audible as he mumbled something incoherent before drifting back to sleep once more.

Every time he stirred in her arms, she would instinctively freeze, not wanting to disrupt his rest. She held her breath, careful not to make any sudden movement that might disturb his fragile state.

When his breath would steady, she would continue to read her pregnancy book.

Couvade Syndrome

New fathers may experience pregnancy symptoms such as nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, and or constipation…

… some may experience mood swings, fatigue, and other physical and psychological common symptoms…

.

“So,” Kiyoomi muttered, pulling his mask down slightly, “you’re telling me I’m experiencing pregnancy symptoms on behalf of Y/n?”

The doctor nods, “very possible. All your symptoms are clear indications of Couvade Syndrome but continue to monitor yourself and we can do some further testing if it doesn’t get better.”

Y/n squeezed Kiyoomi’s hand as they walk out of the clinic. “Do you want me to drive?”

“No, I’m fine,” he grumbled, his tone slightly dismissive. However, as he glanced down at her with gentle eyes, his expression softened. “But thank you,” he added, a note of appreciation lacing his words.

They get into his car and Y/n mutter, “sorry you have to endure this, I know how much you hate being sick.”

Before they could leave the parking lot, Kiyoomi turned his body halfway towards her, taking a deep breath to gather his thoughts. Y/n mirrored his movement, turning her body towards him, her gaze filled with anticipation.

Kiyoomi gently reaches out, tucking some loose strands of hair behind her ear. His voice carried a mix of determination and tenderness as he spoke. “I will endure this Couvade shit… if it means that you don’t have to go through it. I want to share the burden and make sure you have a smoother pregnancy journey.”

. . .

E/n: Our baby is trying - thank you for being patient with me and WYE.

>>> @pierroswife @queenelleee @eadyladlegard @mfreedomstuff @erintaro @callmeraider @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wolffmaiden @cloud-lyy @chickflickjunkie @saikisho3 @sunawayx @vicolangelo @tsumu-senpai @famebydefinition @imnotjo @jojowantstocry @levistiddies

[starcrossedxwriter]

Wicked Fantasies Part 4 (MBJ x Black OC)

Warnings: mentions of grief and death… NSFW, public sex, name calling, BDSM themes

A/N: lol remember when I said this was gonna be two parts? Well I finished both so I said why not lol long chapter ahead but I hope you enjoy!

***

“It’s really insane when you think about it,” she laughed. “I mean God, these people are saying shit I wouldn’t dare breathe out loud… to a complete stranger. Do your DMs always look like this?” 

Michael nodded, causing Raven to shake her head in complete disbelief. “I don’t see most of ‘em but my team likes to share the wildest ones sometimes. The people are mad creative.”

“You don’t ever feel objectified by it?” Raven asked, her nails tapping quietly against her screen as she deleted DM after DM. 

“Sometimes but it’s par the course in my world. And they do it to all celebrities. It’s also not like me and my team don’t play into that shit. So it’s kinda hard to get mad. When you get branded as a sex symbol, people treat you like one. And generally, people don’t mean any harm by it. As long as people, you know, keep that shit on social, I don’t get bothered.”

“Fair. People need to like get offline and touch grass. The amount of women in my DMs insulting me for ‘stealing you?’ You’d think I wrecked their fantasy home. It’s kinda disturbing, not gonna lie.” 

Despite the rise in explicit DMs, Raven was pleasantly surprised at how little her life had changed since she became the public girlfriend of a mega movie star. She had never seen so many follow requests in her life and the cameras swarmed the library for the first few days. However, other than that and one or two articles detailing the sparse details of her life that were available, things were pretty much exactly the same. It also helped that there was a major celebrity scandal each week so their relationship had quickly become old news. But they were the new “it couple” on the block. The world bought their act hook, line, and sinker. A few more months of this and the debacle of their first date would be a funny passing joke on SNL or Late Night tv and nothing more. 

“I feel bad dragging you to this shit on your birthday,” Michael mumbled apologetically. 

Raven scoffed. “It’s a dinner party at Ryan Coogler’s with the cast of my favorite superhero movie of all time,” she exclaimed, a bit of her fan girl side slipping out. “Hardly a punishment. We got our photo so you can post something cute and sappy for the gram and I get to do something fun completely unrelated to my birthday. Win, win.” She assured him with a smile. 

Michael still did not understand her aversion to her birthday, it was one of the many things about her that were a big question mark. He thought she was just being modest when she told him so when Ryan invited the couple to dinner at his spot, he felt bad for even asking her to give up her special day for a work event. However, she said yes immediately, clearly thankful for a work obligation to fill up her evening. 

Her phone rang, interrupting Michael’s response. She rolled her eyes when she saw her sister’s name pop up. She had been dodging her and her dad’s calls left and right since she and Michael’s first date weeks ago. She knew her sister would find out from social media and would tell their dad, and she knew they both were just calling with their hands outstretched. She could tolerate them asking for her money and the money she did not have yet, she always found it and, even if she complained, she would give it. But she would not entertain requests for money that was not hers to give away, nor would she give Michael the impression she was a gold digger trying to bleed him dry. He was upholding his end of the bargain, she would not milk him for anymore than that. She let it go to voicemail, however, soon the car filled with the constant dings of her texts.

“You gotta take that?” 

“Umm… yea,” Michael could feel her entire mood sour at the idea. “It’s just my sister. She’ll never stop calling if I don’t. You mind? Sorry,” her tone was apologetic, knowing how frustrating it would be to listen to half a conversation in a car you can’t escape from. 

She held the phone to her ear and waited for her to pick up, making sure to turn the volume down as low as possible in hopes Michael would hear as little of whatever insanity her sister would spew. She knew she was not calling to merely offer happy birthday wishes, if she even acknowledged the day at all.

“Raven! I’ve been calling you for days. What the fuck?” Kiara’s voice filled her ears. 

“Hi Kiara. Sorry, I’ve been a little busy. How are you?” 

“I’m fine.” She responded shortly without asking Raven the same. “And yea, a little busy all over the fuckin’ ShadeRoom. You know how fuckin’ embarrassing it is to find out you’re dating MY celebrity crush on Insta?? You didn’t even like that nigga or his movies.” 

Not true, Raven wanted to yell into the phone. She and her sister were not close enough to know each other’s favorite movies or actors, hell even favorite colors, let alone gossip about their relationships together. So she was not sure why Kiara even expected to know about her relationship, even if it hadn’t been a complete farce. 

“You have me out here lookin’ stupid as shit to my friends.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t realize how it would impact you.” There was a hint of sarcasm in her voice, which she could tell Michael picked up on as he choked back a laugh. However, she knew Kiara was too self absorbed to notice.

“When are you gonna bring him here for us to meet him? The girls want to meet him too.”  

“You and dad are always welcome to come to LA and meet him. O-Or just, you know, visit me?” she threw him an apologetic shrug that just made him laugh. She wished she could laugh at how quickly her family’s tune had changed about seeing her. She had invited them to LA countless times before everything fell apart but they couldn’t have cared less about her life and how she was doing. And when she tried to visit them, they made excuse after excuse about why it was not a “good time.” But now that she had a famous boyfriend, it was “when are you coming to visit?” As if the invitation had always been open. She had not seen her family in two years. “Don’t think either of us have time to come to y’all with his schedule. He’s going out of town soon for his new movie.”

“Maybe I can convince dad if you can get us tickets to the premiere of that movie…. What’s the name? I don’t remember. The girls would love that shit. Or… oh! He has to be invited to the new Black Panther premiere next month too. Maybe we can go to that? I don’t know what that shit’s about but it’s Black Panther so you know hella celebs will be there. He’s gotta be a brand ambassador for some fancy shit. Can you get us some Birkins or something?”

Raven clenched her eyes shut as her sister outlined her laundry list of impossible wants from her “boyfriend.” She knew she could never and would never ask Michael for a fraction of these things. And if she was going to ask him for something out of their contractual obligations, she doubted whether it would be to benefit Kiara of all people. She would do it on behalf of someone who would actually appreciate it.

“I’ll ask him. But maybe for now, you can settle for an autograph? Look, we are actually headed out on a date. Did you or dad need something?”

“Oh yea… I need money for a lawyer for that charge from a couple weeks ago. You know that fuck ass bar is suing us for damages? But that shit wasn’t even our fault.” 

Raven’s head lazily fell to the side as she half-listened to her sister complain for several minutes, drowning on with details from the fight  that made Raven think the bar was well within their rights to demand payment. But accountability was not Kiara’s strong suit. She offered lame “ohs” and “wows” to give the impression that she was truly paying attention. She was just waiting for the ask, there always was one and everything before it was pointless. She finally tuned back in when her sister demanded cash. 

“I gave dad the rest of my savings to bail you and your boyfriend out of jail. And I already sent money for the mortgage and dad’s car. I’m tapped out this month.” 

“Fuck you mean tapped out? You’re living like a fuckin’ big shot in LA with a millionaire for a boyfriend and you can’t slide me money for a lawyer? That’s fuckin’ foul, Raven.” 

Raven clenched her eyes shut. It had already been hard enough to keep up the appearances that she had a thriving career in LA. Adding a fake relationship to the house of lies she existed in did not help matters. Her family had no idea how much she was struggling now and while she knew she could tell them, she did not want to deal with their reactions, which she knew would likely be to blame her. She felt enough guilt and blame for her situation as it was. 

“I can’t just make money I don’t have materialize, Kiara.” She lowered her voice though she knew there was no way Michael was not listening. “You know just because I let you and dad treat me like an ATM, doesn’t mean I do that to other people. I don’t have the money right now but I can pay the bar in installments when I come into more in a couple weeks and just pay off the damages for you.” 

“No, we aren’t payin’ the fuckin’ bar cause we didn’t do shit. And wow… God. You’re so fuckin’ selfish, running off to LA and abandoning us here to make all that money with your fancy degrees and shit.” 

“Did I run off and abandon you or did you make it impossible to stay?” Raven asked, her exhaustion at constantly being the villain of her family’s story getting the better of her. 

“Poor Raven. Always the fuckin’ victim as if everything that’s wrong in this family isn’t your fault. And to pull that card today of all days when you know it’s the anniversary of mom’s death. If it weren’t for you…” Kiara started to say before Raven cut her off, tears welling up in her eyes as she already could hear her sister and father’s voice finishing that sentence. 

“I’ll figure it out and send the money, ok?” She called out, cutting her sister’s words off completely. “I’m getting an advance from my next book in a couple weeks. Find a couple lawyers, meet with them and get their rates and I’ll pay for it. No one crazy expensive, Ki.” 

She knew lying was wrong but she did not have any other option. She couldn’t tell her family where the money would be really coming from. Michael had a whole list of things for her for the next two weeks before he went on his press tour, which meant she would easily make enough to pay her sister’s legal fees and pass it off as an advance. 

“This is me and Jay’s lives, Raven. It’s not like you don’t have the money or access to itto pay for the best.” 

Raven focused her eyes on the ceiling of the car, a sorry attempt to stop tears of guilt and frustration from falling. She felt a tidal wave of shame hit her knowing Michael was seeing her like this. “Whatever you need. But once my advance money is gone, I’m tapped out for a while. Seriously, Kiara.” 

“Yea yea yea. I gotta go. I’ll call you in two weeks about the lawyer. Bye.”

Raven clenched her phone in her hand with a fist, her entire body turning away from Michael as a small frustrated sob escaped her that she couldn’t quite keep in. She tossed her phone down on the seat and wiped her eyes. 

She had hoped to make it through today, the annual reminder of the worst day of her life, without thinking too much about it. But there her sister was, picking at the threads of her composure, forcing her to unravel. 

The worst part of all of it was she could not even be mad at her sister or her father and how they treated her. She deserved it and she knew it. She had ruined their lives and this was her atonement. So she endured it, every slight, every barb, every wound because she - perhaps foolishly - hoped that if she kept reaching out her hand and kept giving, one day they would reach back and not expect something in it. They would forgive her and she would have a real family again. 

It did not matter how they spoke to her or treated her, she just repeated the same mantra over and over and over again.  

Keep reaching out your hand, she reminded herself as she took a few deep breaths. 

“You good? We can drive around for a bit longer if you need a minute.” 

“Yea, yea.” She sniffled and cleared her throat. “Just stupid family shit. One day we’ll have a date without me crying o-or having a panic attack,” she let out a watery laugh as she forced a smile onto her lips. 

The smile was wide, and Michael knew, to a stranger, it would likely seem authentic and bright. It would certainly be enough to fool everyone at dinner tonight. But he could see its inauthenticity in her eyes, that’s where all of her emotions shown through. And her eyes? They were void of even the minuscule amounts of light and joy he typically saw and that were present moments before that phone rang. Now, she just looked torn down. And this version of her did not have enough energy to do more than put on that facade and pray no one looked too closely. But when it came to Raven, Michael always looked too closely… and he knew that was the problem. 

Michael slumped back in his seat for a few moments, the wheels turning in his mind as he studied her. He knew he could continue with their plan for the night, that she would play her part and play it well. However, he could not, in good faith, allow that. All their dates thus far had been about him. She deserved for the one day to celebrate her to be all about her. He pulled out his phone and went to Google. After a few minutes of searching, he closed that and opened his call log. 

“Hey Coog.” His voice filled the car, Raven glancing over to him as she continued trying to reign in her emotions so she could play her part.  “My bad, man but we ain’t gon’ make it tonight. Send my apologies to the rest of the team and your wife.”

Raven’s head whipped to the side as she listened to his words. She could hear the faint accent of Ryan Coogler asking if everything was ok. She immediately turned to him and threw an expression at Michael before mouthing, “What are you doing??” 

Michael merely winked at her before answering Ryan. “Yea yea. Just somethin’ came up I gotta take care of.” Michael chuckled. “Aight, ‘preciate you, brah. I’ll make it up to you. Talk to you later.” 

As soon as he hung up the phone, Raven immediately spoke up. “What was that? Why aren’t we going to dinner?” 

Michael ignored her and directed his next statement to Allen. “New plan, Allen. Just sent you the address.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

He continued to avoid her confused and wide eyes. He could not sit at a dinner party, regardless of how fun it was going to be to see the entire cast, knowing Raven was in pain. And even if he did not know or understand the extent of it, he could empathize and recognize she needed a night of someone caring for her, not the other way around. 

“Where are we going?” 

“You’ll see.” 

When Allen finally stopped, Michael helped Raven out and handed one of the cards out of his wallet to Allen, whispering something in his ear that Raven could not hear. With that, Allen sped off, leaving the two behind. Michael placed his hand on the small of Raven’s back and directed her down the block. 

“What about your dinner party?” 

“That nigga hosts a dinner party for everythin’. My role in the movie ain’t that big. Just settin’ up future shit so they won’t miss me. He’ll host another after the premiere next month and at the end of the award season if it gets nominated. Trust me, we ain’t missing shit.” 

“But you’re paying me to go to work events with you?” Raven hated that once again, he felt the need to cater to her and her emotions. “I don’t need to be coddled. O-or for you to rearrange shit to celebrate a day I don’t even want to celebrate. You’re paying me to do a job, let me do it.” 

“Yea and now I’m paying you to have a relaxin’ evening with me. This’ll be more fun anyway. We can still pretend it ain’t your birthday if you want.” 

“Relaxing… at a rage room?” She glanced up and gestured toward the sign outside of the building they were standing in front of. It was quiet, no one but a front desk attendant gawking at them. But she was not surprised it was quiet for a Wednesday night. 

“You tellin’ me you don’t have some rage you wanna exercise a bit, ma?”

She chewed on her lip, she had more than enough rage to get out, but she needed to fix that on her own time, not his. “I do… we all do, I’m sure but… then you shouldn’t pay me for the night. This isn’t work. You’re just doing this to make me feel better and I’m good. We really should go to that party. You can’t just blow off work obligations because your fake girlfriend’s having a bad day.”

Michael closed the distance between them and used his fingers to pry her lip out from between her teeth. He wanted to smile at how she rolled her eyes and pouted a bit, clearly resisting the urge to draw her lip back where it was.  

“You aren’t ‘good.’ I don’t know you that well but I do know that much. Just because this ain’t real doesn’t mean I want to watch you suffer on the one day of the year that’s supposed to be about you. A dinner party isn’t what you need. You need fun, seems like you get little of that shit anyway. So since I’m payin’ for your time, I’m tellin’ you not to worry about my shit. And I’m tellin’ you that your only job today is to have fun. And I don’t like having my money wasted, baby girl.” His voice dropped to his commanding tone, a tone that let her know he’d pull out the flogger again if she did waste his time. 

She rolled her eyes and scoffed. “Fine. But this really isn’t necessary.” 

“It’s my money. Let me decide what’s necessary and what’s not. Now come on.” He pulled her in the door, using his award winning smile to get them into the largest room that was clearly meant for more than two people. 

The attendant got them set up in their protective gear and closed the door behind them, locking them in the room for an hour. 

“So what do we do?” Raven muttered as she glanced around, quietly giggling at their absurd bee-keeper style gear. The room was filled with breakable items, bats and golf clubs and other makeshift weapons. There were holes in the walls and punching bags and dummies and stacks of plates. 

He picked up a vase and chucked it at the wall, the glass shattering against the wall. Then he picked up another one and handed it to her. 

His hand pressed into her chest, right above her heart. “Every negative thing you feel in here? Destroy everythin’ in this room til it doesn’t feel like you’re drownin’ in it.” 

She grabbed the vase from his hand and held it for a moment before she threw it as hard as she could at the same spot on the wall. Lacking his strength, it did not make it to the wall but she did enjoy the rush of adrenaline and satisfying crash it made as it shattered to the ground.  She did not even need further prompting as she picked up the discarded baseball bat near her and started using it to break everything she could see that was breakable. 

Michael spent most of the hour cheering her on as she released every bit of pent up frustration and anger and pain and shame she felt. She was so tightly wound all of the time, never letting any of it show so she could never let any of it go. But this was a cathartic release that she did not even know she needed. She knew she would feel it all again tomorrow but every crash, every piece of glass shattered, every dent she made into the walls of that room felt like a small bit of everything she kept in started to vanish piece by piece.

By the time the buzzer rang, signaling the end of their session, she was exhausted, her arms tired but she had never felt lighter. 

“That was…” she breathed heavily as they walked out toward Michael’s SUV. “Amazing. I didn’t know I needed that. Thank you.” 

“See? You gotta trust me more, baby girl. I know more than just what your body needs.” He winked at her as he closed the door behind him. “And now, we have one more stop.” 

They spent the entire drive recapping their favorite things to break in the rage room, which “weapons” caused the most damage. 

“Remind me never to piss you off,” Michael joked as Allen pulled off onto an overlook. 

“What do you mean??” 

“You were downright terrifyin’ with that damn bat. Can’t have you goin’ all Jazmine Sullivan or Carrie Underwood on my car.” 

“Whatchu know about Before He Cheats?” 

He let out a barking laugh. “Enough to know niggas go up for that song, me included.” He admitted. “But if you try to sell that to a gossip site, I’ll deny it.” 

“Wow, learning something new about you every day. And please, I’m sure there are more effective ways to hurt you if you pissed me off,” she teased. “You’d have a new car before I even finished taking a bat to the old one.”

“You might be right about that.”

“Where are we?” She asked as Michael helped her out of the car and she followed him around to the back of the SUV. He opened the trunk and laid out a picnic blanket and soft pillows that Allen had purchased while they were raging and jogged up to the front to grab the box of Prince St. Pizza that had made Raven’s stomach growl the entire ride and a bottle of white wine. 

“Overlook by the Hollywood sign. Perfect view of the city with my favorite white wine and favorite pizza.”

Raven smiled as he helped her climb into the back of the SUV, both of them leaning on the back as they looked out over the city. The silence was comforting, both of them eating their way through the giant pepperoni pizza and several glasses of wine. When they finished one bottle, Allen just produced another from the front seat and handed it back to them. 

“Thank you… for tonight,” Raven smiled as he poured her another glass of wine. “I… did really need this. And you didn’t have to.” 

“Don’t mention it. Seemed like you needed this more than I needed a dinner party.” He paused. “So your sister… did she even say happy birthday to you?” 

Raven let out a cold laugh as she took a long sip from her glass. “Nope. But I didn’t expect her to. Told you,” she whispered as her fingers played with the strings on the edge of their blanket. “Just another day. 

“So that’s why you don’t celebrate your birthday? Your mom?” At her startled expression, he shrugged apologetically. “I didn’t hear everythin’ but your sister was talkin’ loud as fuck toward the end. When’d she die?”

Raven sighed. “She died in labor. Had some condition, doctors told her no more kids… she got pregnant by accident. My dad wanted her to have an abortion, she refused. She gave birth and died a couple hours later.”  

“I’m sorry,” he offered quietly, his hand rubbing her thigh. He had tuned out most of their conversation, not wanting to eavesdrop. But the moment he heard frustration and pain in Raven’s voice, he could no longer block it out. He heard every word her sister hurled at her and he hated that they treated her so callously. “And they blame you?” 

She wiped her tears for a moment before muttering. “I blame me.” 

“You were a baby, didn’t ask to be born. How is her choice your fault?” Michael reasoned, hating that she blamed herself for something so out of her control. But he also knew grief was not the most logical of emotions, particularly grief as deep seeded as this.

“My dad could barely look at me as a kid, wanted nothing to do with me beyond keeping me clothed and fed. The only person who didn’t blame me was my grandma, she basically raised me until she passed when I was in middle school. And I get it,” her voice broke slightly with her grief. “If it weren’t for me, my dad would still have his wife and my sister would have a mom. So yea… I was born and she died for that… not much worth celebrating in my book… or anyone’s really.” Her voice trailed off to a soft whisper before she shook her head and rolled her shoulders back as if she could shake out the negative emotions. “But you didn’t bring me to this gorgeous spot to trade childhood trauma. Thank you for helping me take my mind off all that for a bit.” He could tell by her tone that she did not want to discuss it anymore. “I don’t know why you’re so nice to me,” she mumbled as she took another bite of pizza. 

He wrinkled his nose. “Am I not supposed to be?”

“No, no. I just… still waiting for you to be what I’d thought you’d be, I guess. What Tasha warned me you’d be.” 

“And what was that?” 

“An asshole,” she answered bluntly, Michael chuckling as he bowed his head. 

“I am… an asshole,” he admitted. “I’ll never deny that. Couple bad decisions after a bad break up and Hollywood bad boy became the image so I leaned into it. Self-centered, arrogant, cold… Aside from my family, that’s the version of me people see.” 

“But that’s not you.” 

He raised an eyebrow. “How you know? We just met a month ago.” 

She examined him with a soft smile before sitting up a bit straighter. “Because a self centered, arrogant asshole doesn’t do half the things you’ve done for me. You don’t treat me like a body or a business transaction. You treat me like… a friend? Even when you have no reason to. You may be a jerk but hell, plenty of niggas are jerks. You may even be a little selfish, not shocking when the world caters to you. But I think the real you is kind and thoughtful. I don’t know why you don’t want to show the world the side of you I see.” 

“Cause that nigga gets taken advantage of, gets heartbroken.” 

She nodded, she knew more than a thing or two about being taken advantage of. 

“Who was it then?” 

“Hm?” 

“The girl that broke your heart and created this version of you?” 

He let out a humorless chuckle and placed his hand on her knee. “One day, I’ll tell you.” He paused, glancing at her. “I treat you like a friend because I think we are… friends?”

He wanted to be so much more than friends. Every date, every moment with her he realized that more and more. However, if friends was as intimate as their relationship could ever truly be, he would settle for it. Anything, just to have her nearby. 

The small smile on her face turned brighter. “I think we’re friends too.” 

With the declaration of their friendship, both of them laid back against the pillows on their backs so they could stare out of the sunroof at the midnight sky. The sky was so perfectly clear, she could see endless stretches of stars. 

“What made you decide to be a writer?” Michael asked as they laid there. 

“I used to dream of being anywhere but where I was,” she admitted. “Still do most of the time. And when I was a kid, books, particularly fantasy books, were just the one place I could always escape to. Other worlds and lives so vivid so I could leave this one behind for a short while. And they always gave me hope that things could get better, maybe. I wouldn’t get saved by a dazzling prince or whatever. But they made me think things could turn around somehow. But when I was young, so few books had characters who looked like me or were written by women who looked like me.” 

“‘If there’s a book you wanna read, but it hasn’t been written, then you have to write it,’” he quoted the quote she had above her desk in her room. 

“Exactly.” 

“Why’d you stop after one book?” 

She clenched her eyes shut. “Didn’t have much of a choice. A… misunderstanding,” she muttered the word bitterly, “with my editor at my publishing house… and they dropped me, wasn’t able to find another. So I got the job at the library to tide me over till I figured shit out.  That was… about a year and a half ago? Haven’t been able to write much since.”

“A misunderstanding?” He repeated, glancing over at her, his question clear even though he did not explicitly ask it. However, when he felt her body shift uncomfortably next to him, he quickly backtracked. She had already rehashed so much that she did not need to tonight, there was no need to unearth anything else. She kept giving him more puzzle pieces but the picture remained a mystery. However, he could tell that it was one that held as much darkness as it did beauty. 

His hand grasped hers and squeezed. “You ain’t gotta tell me. Add it to the one day list?” 

Her eyes were still closed but he felt her squeeze back. “Thanks.” 

Silence fell over them as they laid there. Michael rarely just laid and did nothing like this. It was contemplative and nice, to simply exist beside her. He spent so much time being on, playing a part or an image. But he liked that he did not have to do that with Raven when they were alone. She let him be Bakari… the version of him that was only safe with his family and closest friends. 

“Tonight… I needed it too,” he offered, ending the silent reprieve. “So thank you for indulgin’ me.”

Raven turned and propped her head up on her hand, turning her body to face his profile. He looked different bathed in the moonlight. He was gorgeous, anyone with eyes could see that. But he seemed more youthful to her, his features more relaxed than they typically were when they were on dates. His jaw was relaxed, his lips settled into a smile that was effortless… not his movie star smile, which she had seen enough times to recognize the nuances that signaled its inauthenticity. This one though, his real smile,… it made him heartbreakingly gorgeous.  

“Thank you for caring about me a-and for today. Haven’t had anyone do that in a long time,” she admitted before settling back on her pillows.

He knew she had that void in her life but hearing her admit it out loud broke his heart in places he was not expecting.

“What about right now?” 

“What about right now?” She asked, her tone filled with confusion. 

“Do you wish you were anywhere else but here right now?” He asked.

She tilted her head to glance at him, finding his eyes trained on her and not on the sky above. She let out a deep breath as she studied him. 

“No, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” 

He smiled. “Good.”  

They turned back toward the sunroof, content smiles on both of their faces. They did not talk much beyond that, both of them enjoying the silence and each other’s company. 

She did not even know how much time had passed when something finally broke that precious silence, the buzzing of Michael’s phone. Instinctively, she glanced over and caught a glimpse of his bright screen. Tasha’s name scrolled across, Michael sighing a bit as he sent the call to voicemail. 

Suddenly, Raven felt overwhelmed with discomfort. He was still seeing Tasha… why did that upset her so much? He had never promised not to, at least not to her. So she knew she had no reason to be mad. But she could stop the claws of jealousy from sinking their talons into her heart and soul. And when that subsided, all she felt was inadequacy. Another moment where she was not enough for someone. 

She cleared her throat. “It’s… um kinda late?” she glanced down at her watch before sitting up and sliding out of the back of the car. “L-Looks like you’ve got plans?” She tried to hide the bitterness in her voice but she knew she failed, knew Michael could see all of it.  

Michael shook his head. “Nah, it’s not wh-” 

Raven cut him off. “I have an early shift tomorrow… would hate to oversleep. Mind taking me home?” She did not know why she lied, her shift was not until noon. However, she knew it was an excuse he could not argue with. 

Raven started to walk around to the car door when she felt Michael’s grip around her arm, halting her movements. Michael hated that she saw that. Similar to her, but for entirely different reasons, he had been dodging Tasha’s calls like they were the plague. Usually he reached out to her to set up dates but when two weeks passed with radio silence from her best and most frequent customer, she started calling more often. He met up with her once, an act he regretted the morning after when he woke up. But she had promised discretion, if anyone knew how much of a farce he and Raven’s relationship was, it was Tasha. But he did not even enjoy it in the same way, he felt like he was just going through the motions. So when she reached back out earlier that week to set up another date, he ignored it. And ignored all the subsequent messages. He could not avoid her forever, but he knew he needed to put her on pause until Raven was out of his life and out of his system. While he was drugged up on her, no other fix was as worthy or quite as right. 

But he did not know how to explain that to Raven. He had not promised her exclusivity but it had most certainly been implied. He would not be pleased if he found out another man she had fucked was calling her.

“Tasha and I aren’t…” he started to say but Raven pressed her hand to his chest to stop him. 

“You don’t gotta lie to me. You’re allowed to sleep with other women, Michael. This isn’t real, we’re just friends at the end of the day. All good. I’m really tired though and need to get up early.” 

With that, she gently maneuvered her arm out of his grasp and slid into her seat in the car. She was thankful with every passing mile that took her closer to her apartment and out of his presence. She did not have a right to be upset but she could not change the fact that she was. She enjoyed being his only and she wasn’t, and she was wholly unprepared for how that would make her feel. But that’s what she got, for thinking his feelings for her extended past their business relationship. He was kind but she had signed up to be used and he was getting what he wanted. She had to accept that. 

“Thanks for the ride, Allen,” she said as she opened the door. She fixed her face and offered him a smile that was a bit forced but, despite the end to the night, still was partially genuine. “Thanks for tonight, seriously. I had fun.” His phone buzzed again, causing her to grimace. “And have fun with Tasha. Night, Michael.” She did not let him respond before she let the car door slam shut and she raced inside as fast her legs in her heels could carry her. 

Michael groaned, his head thudding back against the headrest as he looked at his phone screen. 

“I fucked that up, didn’t I?” 

“Wasn’t your shining moment with her, sir.” 

He clenched his hand into a fist before answering the phone. He never wanted to see that look on Raven’s face again and truthfully, he did not care to frequent Tasha anymore. He knew Raven and he had a shelf life that would expire but even when it did, he was not sure he could go back to fucking Tasha like Raven never existed. She had infiltrated every aspect of his being in the last two week and tonight had only made him fall deeper for her, made him want to give her everything she did not have. It was strange to feel this emotion again, to long for someone like he did her. Even if it could not be something long term, he wanted to savor it while he had her. 

But that was not something he was truly ready to admit to himself, let alone to Tasha. So he decided to take the easy road out and blame it on something else: the image and his manager. Tasha would have to respect that, right? And he would spin some lie about seeing her after Raven and he broke up, even though he was not sure if he had the desire for dispassionate, unattached sex in him anymore. 

“Hey Tash,” he muttered coldly into the phone. 

“Hey baby… wanted to see if you wanted to meet up tonight? I miss you,” her voice was sultry and inviting, a voice that, once upon a time, would have had him racing through LA to get to a hotel with her. But today, it did nothing. “And a little birdie told me you were headed to Paris in two weeks for press. Should I pack a bag?” 

Michael rolled his eyes. That was his own fault. He flew her out once last year to Cannes Film Festival and now she thought she was invited on every trip. There was only one person he wanted to take on this trip with him and after tonight, he was not even sure she’d say yes. 

“Yea… listen Tash. You know how I feel about you. But I can’t see you anymore… just for a few months.” 

“What?? Why?” 

He rolled his eyes, she knew why. “Well, you know… I got this relationship with Raven that is really important for my career and I can’t be seen with other women. We’re gonna have an amicable split in a few months and then I’m all yours again. But until then, we gotta keep our distance.” 

He could hear the frustration and bitterness in her voice, though she tried and failed to hide it. “You’re my best customer, Michael. You can’t just… drop me outta nowhere.” 

“It’s just temporary. Just a couple months. And I’ll send you some money to tide you over till you get a new client. Also means no Paris. Sorry, I just really gotta focus on cleaning up the image over the next few months. You understand, don’t you? You know you’ll always be my favorite girl.”

There was a long pause that made Michael check to ensure the call had not been disconnected. 

“Yea I understand. Just a few months though, right? Then you’re droppin’ the new girl?” 

Michael rolled his eyes before nodding, though she could not see him. “Of course, baby. Just a couple months and then she’s gone. Promise.” 

They shared a few pleasantries before Michael hung up and prayed she did not call him again for a while. His fingers itched to text or call Raven and explain. But something stopped him, the part of him that still adamantly rejected his feelings toward her roaring. He did not owe her an explanation, he did not owe her anything but the money he paid for her dates. She did not ask for an explanation either so why would he volunteer one? Those two parts of him battled until he threw his phone to the side in frustration. 

He sighed and took a deep breath as Allen pulled up in front of his family home in the hills, his oasis, Raven’s perfume still lingering in the car… that hint of lavender danced on his nose. He fell asleep with that phantom smell haunting him, Raven finding ways to pop up in every dream he had that night, leaving him no escape from her or his feelings for her. 

***

“Here you go.” Michael handed her an envelope filled with cash. “I’ll be gone by the time you wake up.” 

Raven nodded and stored it in her overnight bag before grabbing her clutch. They were finally alone after being poked and prodded all afternoon by his stylist and glam teams to get ready for the premiere. They had ten minutes before the car would be there to take them. And then Michael would be jetting off at an ungodly hour to New York and then Paris for press. Raven was actually a bit sad to see him go. 

Though they never discussed the Tasha debacle from her birthday two weeks prior, she and Michael were slowly but surely getting closer and closer each day. They had had an event or something to go to almost every night, Raven was shocked at the amount of money she had been able to make in such a short window of time. Even helping her sister with her lawyer, she felt as if she could actually breathe easy for the first time in a while. And on the nights they were not together, they generally texted or talked on the phone at some point. They hadn’t had sex again, Raven finding any and all excuses to avoid that since he was still seeing Tasha. He never pushed or seemed angry, albeit a bit disappointed when every date ended with her asking Allen to take her home. It was petty she knew it but she did not care. She had no interest in competing with Tasha, she knew who would win every time. 

“Thanks.” 

“You sure you’re gonna be good while I’m gone?” 

Raven glanced at him and rolled her eyes as she threw her lipstick in her clutch. She did not quite understand how the small bag was even functional, it did not even fit her ID. But Michael’s stylist said it fit the look so she did not question it. “Don’t flatter yourself, Mr. Jordan. I’ll be just fine without you for a few weeks.” 

Michael came up behind her and laughed. “You ain’t gotta pretend like you ain’t gon’ miss me, baby girl. I mean… you know, financially. I’m in New York for a week then Paris for a week. That’s a while without dates. I can slide you some extra if you need it.” 

Raven bristled at the idea, she did not want him to view her as a charity case. 

“No,” she responded shortly, immediately regretting the sharp edge in her tone as his face fell. “S-Sorry. No, thank you but I’m good.” 

“Even after your sister’s legal shit or whatever?” 

She let out a small huff. “Yea… she managed to pick the most expensive lawyer below the damn Mason Dixon line but I got it covered, I think. And with this,” she gestured toward her bag. “I’m good on the other stuff too. Seriously, you shouldn’t worry yourself about my finances. I always figure it out.”  

He grabbed her wrist to stop her from walking away from him.

“It ain't charity or worry. Don’t want you stressin’ and shit while I’m gone. And I like to know my friends and everyone on my team are good. You’re both… why would I treat you any differently?” 

“I just don’t want you to feel like you have to take care of me. Or fix my problems.”

“You’re here fixin’ my problems. I can’t  return the favor?”

“Because… that’s not what we agreed to. This is a job, you pay me… we go out. That’s it. My family shit has no part in this and isn’t your concern. I’ll deal with them.” 

“Why do you?” At her raised eyebrow, he added, “Deal with that?” 

“You don’t give up on your family. You reach out your hand even when they swat it away. And one day, they’ll see all I’ve done for them and how much I love them and they’ll come around.” 

“Seems to me that you let them bleed you dry as if it’ll pay whatever debt you think you owe them. And they seem content with lettin’ you bleed out in the street.” 

She chuckled mirthlessly. “They’re all I got… so I don’t have much of a choice. It’ll pay off. All of it,” she forced more conviction in her voice. “One day.” 

“You really believe that?” 

She turned to look at him. He could tell there was genuine hope in her eyes, true belief that things would get better. A dreamer, indeed. 

“Yea… I have to.” 

“I dunno... There’s gotta be better out there for you… you certainly deserve better.” There was a not-so-small part of him, a part that grew with every moment he spent with her, that desperately wanted to be that more for her. 

“This world is filled with people who deserve better, Michael. But we’re stuck with the hand we’re dealt until better comes along. And I don’t see any better hands coming my way. Just a long game of this shitty hand,” she whispered the last part under her breath as she checked herself in the mirror once more. She grabbed her clutch and started toward the door. “You ready? Car should be here, right?” 

He hated how resigned she was to her fate and treatment. He had more than enough money to give his family and friends, more than enough for them to take advantage of if they chose and none of them did. Raven had none of that and still gave her last to people that clearly did not appreciate it. And to know, she had every intention of doing it under some misguided belief they would thank her for it later broke his heart. It reminded him of how pure and kind-hearted she was but he knew her efforts would likely be wasted. But he would have loved to be proven wrong. 

He did not know her family so he knew it was wrong to judge them but all he felt was red hot anger. Quite frankly, the only benefit he saw to the reality that this arrangement was fake was that he would not have to meet her family himself. He did not know if he could even sit in the same room with them. 

“Before we go… got somethin’ for you.”

Raven raised an eyebrow, “I don’t need a gift. It’s your special night.” 

“Yea but wanted to give you somethin’ to remember me by. It benefits both of us, don’t worry.” His face was a sly smirk that told her the gift was not a normal one. “But first, Tasha and I aren’t hookin’ up anymore.” 

“Michael… you don’t have to…” 

He shook his head and interrupted her. “Nope. You didn’t let me finish that night and you’ve been weird about it ever since. So now, I’m talkin’ and you’re gonna listen. It’s ok to be annoyed. We should be exclusive. I called her and put that shit on pause until our arrangement is done. We’ve only hooked up once since we started dating and it was early on. But either way, you don’t gotta worry about her callin’ or me seein’ her while I’m with you. I got my hands full with you anyway,” he winked at her. 

Raven tried to limit the smile that wanted to blossom at his words. She was happy to hear she was not “competing” with Tasha as she thought. It was a narrative her own insecurities and anxieties created and fueled, a narrative that now seemed foolish. She still did not know why it mattered so much to her. Or rather, she knew, but she would never admit it out loud. 

“So we’re good?” 

“Y-Yea we’re good. Wasn’t worried,” she lied, trying to make her voice sound aloof and unbothered. She did not know why she bothered, she supposed she did not want her pride to be anymore damaged than it already was. 

Michael merely pursed his lips and chuckled before nodding toward the bed. “So you ready to be my slut again or am I still on pause?” 

Raven smiled. “I’m all yours.” 

“Good. Lay down for me, panties to the side.” 

Raven laid back on the bed, hiking up her dress to her waist so she could part her legs. She pulled her thong to the side, Michael licking his lips as he took in the mess between her thighs. 

“Already so wet for me. You missed me too, huh? This is gonna be fun,” he muttered to himself as he pulled a gold vibrator out of his pocket before sitting on the bed beside her, careful not to ruffle his perfectly-tailored tuxedo. 

He wasted no time sliding the vibrator inside her, Raven moaning lightly at the intrusion, the way his finger brushed against her clit. She wanted more, desperately. Her hips rolled to find his touch, his hand, her body begging for more action. But he denied her. His other hand fiddled with something small that looked like a remote control. 

“Know what this is?” 

“No, sir.” 

“It’s the controller. Tonight, you’re gonna keep that in you and I’m gonna have a little fun with this.” 

Raven let out a shaky breath. “Y-You expect me to keep this in… while we’re at a movie premiere? No way.” 

He nodded, a mischievous grin in his eye. “I recall you wanting to explore some fantasies. You tellin’ me sex in public ain’t one you’ve had?” 

She bit her lip as she contemplated it. The idea was certainly an intriguing one… but the risks?? 

“When would you use that?” 

“Whenever I want. That’s the fun part… for me anyway. And you’re gonna spend the night making sure that sexy ass face when you cum isn’t plastered across TMZ tomorrow.” 

Raven shook her head. “I dunno, Michael. I’m all for risk but this seems insane.” 

He let out an exaggerated sigh, his voice playful and teasing. “I thought you’d be up for it, thought you wanted to have fun but I understand if you’re too scared.” 

She heard the challenge in his voice. He was testing her, trying to see if she was really up for anything. She could not deny that the idea was intriguing. Having her orgasms at his mercy in public? Per usual with him, she knew she could say no. But as she ran over the risks, all she could think of was the thrill of it. She wanted it. She hated that she wanted it and hated that he knew she wanted it. But she did. 

She sat up and swung her legs off the bed. She clenched her muscles to ensure the new addition to her ensemble stayed tucked where it needed to be and she shimmied the delicate fabric of her gown back down to its proper place. 

“Car’s waiting,” she offered with a smirk as she grabbed her purse and walked out of his bedroom, deciding then and there that she would win whatever game he was playing tonight, and would show him that she was indeed up for any and everything. 

Michael watched her ass sway as she exited and smiled. 

“Gonna have a lot of fun with this.” 

***

Raven was so overwhelmed by the screaming fans and reporters and flashing lights that she almost forgot about the “gift” nestled in her core. She kept her smile bright as she and Michael started down the red carpet, his arm tightly wrapped around her waist. 

He looked down at her like the perfect image of a doting boyfriend, with love and protection in his eyes. He played the role so well, Raven almost caught herself falling for the act. But she supposed that was a good thing because it made her glances back at him more genuine. She knew they looked like the picture perfect couple, every gossip site raved about them after every date. She knew tonight would be no different. 

She was so focused on keeping her smile intact and her eyes from blinking too much as they stood on the red carpet that she failed to notice Michael slip his hand into his pocket. Her smile faltered for just a second as she felt the device come alive, sending shock waves directly against her g-spot. It was a steady soft buzz, just enough to make her feel it, causing the heat to rise throughout her body. But it was not enough to overwhelm her.  

Once she got over the initial surprise of the vibration, she was able to recompose herself with ease. She played off the change in her expression by adjusting something on her dress and continued posing with him.

Minutes passed and the vibration continued at its low pace, Raven enjoying the small jolts of pleasure. This was what she was supposed to be worried about? This was a piece of cake.

She leaned in and kissed him softly on the cheek before turning her head from the cameras and whispering in his ear, “This is easier than I thought it’d be.”

Michael let out a deep laugh as if she had told a funny joke and pecked her sweetly on the nose, continuing their slow march down the carpet. 

Raven genuinely felt like she could deal with that all night as she listened to Michael give an interview. She remained tucked at his side with a smile on her face. The interviewer did not really ask her any questions, thank God. So she just smiled and concentrated on keeping her thighs together. 

“So Raven, I have to say, you look gorgeous. Who are you wearing?” 

“Th-” her words were cut short as the vibration pattern changed, this time a long vibration that steady increased before pulsing against her g-spot and starting over again. She coughed awkwardly, pretending as if she had swallowed wrong before saying. “T-thanks. V-versace.” 

Her answer was clipped and short, afraid her words would betray her if she opened her mouth. This was far different, this was ecstasy. Each vibration felt like the slowest, most tantalizing march up a mountain before someone pushed her back toward the bottom to do it all over again. And that pulse at the top? It sent a shockwave through her that made her see stars. Each time, she felt her fingers grip the fabric of Michael’s tuxedo jacket harder. The longer it droned on, the more her legs started to shake. 

“You ok, baby?” he asked sweetly, kissing her on the cheek innocently. 

“Y-Yea, of course.” 

“You two are so cute. Thanks for chatting with me and I can’t wait to see the film.” 

Michael said his goodbyes to the interviewer before guiding Raven away. 

“What’s harder?” he whispered in her ear as they walked inside the venue. He stopped her in the corner of the giant atrium before they walked into the screening room and tucked her against a wall in a corner. Only official photographers were allowed at this point. To anyone passing by, they just looked like a couple having a sweet moment.

“W-what?” She found even such a simple word laborious to get out and it sounded more like a moan than a word. With him mostly covering her body from view, she could not stop the way her hips rolled as the setting changed again. The pattern was the same but the cycle was faster, the intensity overwhelming as he  increased it to the next setting. 

“What’s harder?” he leaned in and whispered in her ear so lowly she almost could not hear her. “Keepin’ that pretty smile on your face when all you wanna do is close your eyes and bite your lip while you cum? Hidin’ your moans so no one here knows you’re a loud filthy slut? Or stoppin’ yourself from beggin’ me to fuck you in the bathroom over there?” 

She felt as if her entire body was in a frenzy. It was not just the vibrator, it was his hands gently pressing her to the wall innocently, it was the courses of people walking by them having no clue that she was on the cusp of the greatest pleasure of her life, it was that she could not stop it or him if he decided he wanted her to cum right then and there in front of everyone. 

“A-all… of it,” she whispered, her face burying itself in the nook of his neck, which helped hide the pleasure swimming in her eyes but only increased it as she took in his scent. His signature cologne had become intoxicating to her. 

“You wanna cum for daddy, baby?” His words were a light whisper that they knew could not be heard over the conversations and music playing throughout the hallway. 

It was taking everything in her not to collapse in front of him, his arm around her waist was the only thing keeping her standing. Her legs were pure jello, every inch of her body was on fire, boiling with pleasure and humiliation at being brought to orgasm at the nicest event she’d ever been to in her life. All she wanted to do was cum but she did not trust herself to hide it. 

“P-Please…” she whispered. She did not know if that please was to stop or to keep going. 

Michael smirked as he felt her hips buck against his again. She was so close, he could see it in her eyes, feel it in the way her hips ground against nothing but air. It was subtle, not obvious to anyone else from the angle they stood at but he could feel it. 

“Beg.” He demanded. 

She clenched her eyes closed. All she wanted was to fall over this particular edge, right then and right now. She was so close, so close, it was almost agonizing to hold it in until he gave her permission. She glanced down as his finger hovered over the button to increase the setting again, knowing that she could not will him to hit that button. She would have to give him exactly what he wanted, what he always wanted. Submission. 

“P-Please… m-make me cum,” she muttered in his ear. “I-I need… it… p-please.” Tears stung in her eyes as she struggled to fight the urge to let go right then and there, hearing her own needy voice in the space. 

“Hm.” he offered quietly. “I don’t think you deserve it.” And with that, the vibration stopped completely. 

Raven could not stop the groan that escaped her lips as he stole her orgasm, her body screaming and protesting at her in pain at the sudden loss of pleasure. 

She let out a soft gasp as she glanced up at him. “You mother-” 

He leaned forward and kissed her deeply, completely silencing her. Raven’s entire body fell into his as they kissed, she could hear the soft snapping of a camera nearby on her right side. 

He offered her the sweetest smile before leaning to her left so the camera could not catch what he was saying.

“If you wanna cum at all tonight, I wouldn’t finish that sentence.” He straightened up and pressed his lips to her forehead, his arm still around her waist. His voice returned to a normal volume as he fixed her hair and ran his hand over the front of her dress. He looked like he was helping her adjust herself but he also wanted to make sure there was no evidence of their crimes. “It’s time for us to go to our seats. You ready?” 

Raven felt like she had whiplash from the last 5 minutes. He was good, far better than she gave him credit for at these games. She thought this was just going to be a fun experiment. But Michael never did anything small. And she was foolish to underestimate him. 24 hours ago, she would have never thought she would enjoy something like this. But now? She could play this game all night long, even though she was losing miserably. 

She peeled herself off the wall, her own hands running against the bodice of her dress. Her legs still felt a bit wobbly so she wrapped her arm in Michael’s to steady herself. She nodded and allowed him to lead her into the theater. 

She barely paid attention to the movie as she spent the entire two hours watching Michael like a hawk. Every time he shifted in his seat or moved one of his hands, she wondered if he was going to turn the vibrator back on. Halfway through the film, she realized it was not because she was dreading it. She wanted him to. She was internally willing him to turn the stupid thing back on, even if it was only at its lowest setting. Because even at the lowest setting, she knew she was sensitive enough to get where she wanted to be. She wanted to feel the tidal wave of pleasure, she wanted to drown in and bask in it and feel the adrenaline of doing so in public. Besides, the dark theater seemed like the perfect time if he truly wanted to push her completely over the edge. When she wasn’t praying to God that he would turn it on, she was wishing it was his fingers or his dick filling her and not a toy. 

She needed him so bad and truth be told, would have begged him to fuck her right then and there if they weren’t surrounded by hundreds of people. 

However, nothing happened. He paid her no attention throughout the entire film except for the hand that rested on her thigh. The minutes ticked on and on and on as the cast went up on stage to say a few words when the film ended. By the time they finally finished and were in the car to the afterparty, she was a horny, disgruntled mess. 

She kept her eyes trained on the window, even though it was tinted, when she felt Michael slide into the seat next to her. Two could play the ignoring game, she decided. 

His hand slid into the slit of her dress, pushing the expensive material to the side so he could have full access. When she did not part her legs for him immediately, he let out a disgruntled growl that was meant to be a command. She pretended she did not hear him and ignored it. 

He merely shook his head and laughed. “Aight, baby girl.” He pushed her knees apart with his hands, it took everything in her not to moan and keep her face stoic. 

His fingers immediately slid into her panties, the heat of her arousal hiting his skin before he even made contact with her body. He caressed soft circles into her clit. She gave him nothing, no moans, no humping into his hand. Nothing. So he upped the ante and turned the device on to the highest setting it had available. 

“Fuck!” She cried out, unable to keep it in as her body was assaulted with pleasure. The vibrator was more than enough to make her cum but adding his thumb against her clit was just simply unfair in her opinion. 

His free hand grasped her chin, firmly but loose enough that it was not painful and forced her eyes on him. Her breathing was heavy as she felt pleasure building fast in her core. Tears pricked her eyes, not from pain, but overwhelming, soul shattering pleasure, “You wanted me to make you cum in that theater, didn't you? In front of all those people like the filthy whore you are? Didn’t you? Upset that I ignored you? But guess what, baby girl?” he switched the setting to a lower one to keep her on the cusp of pleasure without sending her over. 

She let out a soft sob of agony as he held her there, suspended right at the cusp of her orgasm. This was more tortuous than him stopping cold turkey because she was so close she could taste it. And he kept it just out of reach. Every pulse, every caress of his finger was so much and overwhelming but still was not enough. And there was nothing she could do to force him to give her more. 

“Your body is mine, your pleasure is mine. And I decide when to fuck you, when you cum, when you suck my dick… I decide when you’ve been good… when you’ve been bad and what to do about it. It’s all mine. You can ignore me all you want but see how quickly you fell apart? You can’t win against me, baby girl. Daddy always wins. You understand?” 

She nodded rapidly, her body shaking lightly as she teetered on the edge, pleasure was consuming her every cell. She could barely think of anything but the raging inferno in her core.  “I-I understand. P-Please…” her voice broke. She felt as if she would quite literally perish if she did not come soon. He had never kept her on edge this long, a few seconds sure. But time was stretching into minutes. 

“You think you deserve it?” 

She didn’t deserve it, she knew the answer he wanted. “N-No, no… I’ve b-been bad, a bad girl. I d-deserve to be punished b-but I’m begging you… l-let me cum. I c-can’t… P-please,” her voice begged him for mercy. 

Deciding that she would pass out if he continued this game any farther, he pressed the button to return it to its highest setting. Her scream was nearly inaudible as she came on his fingers, her body shook as she gripped the door handle, shuddering through an intense orgasm. 

“That’s it, cum for me,” he whispered in her ear. “That’s a good girl…” 

“Thank you, t-thank you,” she babbled back to him as he talked her through her orgasm. He turned the vibrator off completely, finally giving her a break. 

“Allen, circle the block a few times.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

At the sound of Allen’s voice, Raven’s eyes flew open and shock and humiliation set in. She had just cum… with another person in the car. And she had completely forgotten he was there. Once Michael had started going, the presence of another human being in their vicinity had completely vanished. She glanced up, surprised to find the limo divider up. She didn't even know when that happened. However, she knew that that barrier was not sound proof. However, instead of being utterly turned off by that idea, it just turned her on more. 

“You like knowing Allen heard you?” Michael whispered in her ear. 

“No,” she shot back as she fixed her dress and used the compact mirror she had stored in the limo before the premiere to fix her makeup. Thankfully she still looked pristine, despite feeling physically depleted. She did not know how she and Michael went round after round when one orgasm made her want to cuddle up under the covers and fall asleep. 

“I keep tellin’ you how much I hate lies. But you never listen. Might think because we have a long night and I got an early mornin’ that you’ll escape punishment. But you won’t. Means I have a couple weeks to think of the perfect punishment for such… insubordination.” 

“Don't threaten me with a good time,” she offered with a sweet smile and a wink that made him laugh. 

He did not get a chance to retort when Allen pulled up at the venue of the after party. He gave Raven a once over before getting out of the limo and grasping her hand. He longed to bury himself inside her but he knew he did not have time, at least not enough time to satisfy the urges he had. And while he would toy with public sex, this was not the venue or event to be caught fucking in the bathroom, as much as he wanted to. 

No, he supposed he would just deal with cold showers for two weeks until he could fuck her again, and spank her until she begged for mercy. Her pleas had done something to him, sweet music to his ears. The perfect orchestra. And he would use every free moment of the next few weeks to think of ways to get that sound again. 

***

Michael rubbed his eyes as he scrolled through his email. He knew he would sleep well on the plane. He hated the first thing in the morning flights but he knew they were the only way to keep up with his crazy press schedule. 

“We’ve arrived, Mr. Jordan,” Allen called from the front seat, Michael immediately hopping out. Allen grabbed his sea of bags as he waved at his castmates who were also just arriving to the tarmac. 

“Thanks, man. See you when I get back. Make sure Rae gets home ok today, aight? Then enjoy your time off.” 

“Thank you, sir,” Allen responded as he handed off his bags to the baggage attendants who would ensure they made it onto the plane. 

Michael started to walk away and head to the flight when he heard his name behind him. 

“Mr. Jordan!” Allen called after him, causing Michael to turn around. The older man jogged up to him. “A word of advice? If I am not overstepping my bounds?” 

Michael nodded, allowing the man to continue. Allen rarely spoke, he was the type who liked to do his job quietly and fade into the background.  And he preferred to keep it professional with Michael though there were a few topics they could shoot the shit over while in the car like basketball and the like. But Michael knew that meant Allen likely knew more about him than anyone else on this planet, which meant he would have been a fool not to hear him out. 

“Avoiding love and companionship, even when it is right there waiting for you to take it, will never bring you happiness. And some would say such an ill-guided venture was foolish and selfish, particularly when the world is filled with people like Ms. Turner who love and seek out love with their whole souls and it's denied to them at every turn. And you may be a bit selfish, Mr. Jordan,” Allen admitted. “But I never pegged you as foolish.” 

“What’re you sayin’?” 

“I’m saying that it does not matter how this whole thing between the two of you started. It only matters how you end it. And whether you are brave enough to admit to her and yourself that perhaps you don’t want it to end at all.” Allen patted him on the arm before taking a step back. “There’s no reward for loneliness, Mr. Jordan… no Oscar to win for denying yourself more when you know you want it. The only prize those actions will give you is a lifetime of regret. And I believe you’re living a life too bright to have it dimmed by regrets.” he paused. “I hope I have not overstepped too much. But… well, there was a time a decade or two ago when I would’ve liked someone to overstep and tell me that.” 

Michael stared at him for a few moments before he nodded. After his last very public and embarrassing breakup, he vowed never to fall in love again. Years of women warming his bed before he kicked them out before sunrise. He got what he wanted and gave nothing of himself… to any of them. But Raven… from the moment he watched her staring out that window, he gave without even realizing how much he had given. And now, he felt things for her that he had not felt for a woman in so long. Hell, he wondered if he had ever felt this strongly for another person in his entire life. He wanted more… not a contract or a business dealing. He wanted her. Was he being utterly foolish by pretending that was not the case? 

 “You did… overstep.” His tone was a bit cold but he was unsurprised at how Allen did not backtrack or shrink. He said his piece, called him out and was willing to accept whatever the consequences of that were. “But maybe I need more people to do that. Will you do me a couple favors when you go back to the penthouse to pick up Raven?” 

“Anything, sir.” 

***

Raven groaned as she turned over in Michael’s soft bed. She had fallen asleep in his master bedroom alone, as she always did when they slept here. He always took the guest room. She wondered if she should be more sad that they slept separately but she agreed that that was not intimacy either one of them truly needed. She groped around the bed for her phone, groaning when she realized it was already 11 a.m. Thankfully, she had another two hours before her shift but she knew she needed to hurry up so she could get home and change into her real clothes, not the fancy designer ones she kept there. 

She pulled herself out of bed and stretched, part of her sad that Michael opted to go to sleep instead of fucking her. She understood he had an early day but she could not deny that all she wanted was for him to bend her into a pretzel after that orgasm in the car. But last night was, for the most part, strictly work. They did not get home and go to bed until 3 am and he had to get up shortly thereafter to catch his flight. And now she was left with nothing but a vibrator and fantasies of him to occupy her until he returned. But he had succeeded in giving her something to remember him by. She walked into the kitchen to grab a glass of water, rubbing her eyes as she dragged her feet across the hardwood floors.

Michael gave her free reign of his penthouse, even when he was not there. She did not spend the night there often but she had started to learn her way around, figure out where the sparse things he kept there were. A few dishes, a couple glasses, a fridge filled with coconut water and little food. When she slept there, so did he. But she had never really stopped to wonder where he spent the rest of his time. She guessed he had some giant mansion in the hills like every other star. But she wondered if that one was just as cold as this one, just as void of comfort and love, just as sterile. 

She guessed it was not. Otherwise, he would have her come there. No, that one was the sanctuary for the real him, she imagined it was warm and overflowing with his favorite things. Japanese anime artifacts and art and memorabilia and his awards and family photos and all the things that meant something to him. And this one was merely for his image, sterile and artificial. 

She blinked a couple of times, shocked to find a neat and perfectly packaged gift bag waiting on the counter with a long envelope sitting up against it. 

She sucked her teeth and chuckled, “This nigga. I thought I said no gifts,” she muttered to herself as she grabbed a glass of water and sat at the barstool. Part of her contemplated not opening it. What had he even given her a gift for? Her birthday was weeks ago. But her desire to know what he got her won out. 

She went to the envelope first, her name written in handwriting far too nice to be Michael’s on the front. She flipped it over and smiled as the person had written on the back: Open me last :) 

“On the other side of the damn country and still giving commands.” 

And you’re still following them, she imagined his voice shooting back at her as she placed the thick envelope to the side and reached into the bag. She made quick work of discarding the multi-colored gift bag paper to reveal two books. She pulled the first one out. 

“Whoa,” she muttered as she took in a first edition copy of I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings. She turned it over in her hands, mouth agape as she studied it. It was beautiful and she knew it cost a pretty penny.  

Her hand reached into the bag and pulled out a book she knew all too well. Her own. An odd gift, she thought, though she supposed it was sweet that he went looking for it in the first place. She wondered how he found it as she published under a pseudonym but she imagined a man with his resources could find out almost anything he wanted with time. 

She flipped it open as she sat back down on her bed, a smaller envelope the size of a card falling out of it. He had stuck it in on the acknowledgements page, which read: From one dreamer to another. 

She opened Michael’s card and took in his handwriting. 

Thank you for sharing what you did with me on your birthday. I know the day isn’t easy. And apologies that this gift was so late - but I figured this was a loophole in the no gifts rule if you got it weeks later? And it took some time to track down your book. You didn’t make it easy. I’m looking forward to reading it on my flight. I generally agree with everything you say but I would disagree with one thing you said that night. The first time we met, you said Maya Angelou’s book saved you and gave you hope. I’m sure somewhere in this world, a young girl is reading your book and it’s doing the same for her. That’s something good that came out of October 15: the world got you. And that’s worth celebrating in my opinion. 

I hope, one day, you see that too.

Happy Birthday

Michael 

Raven let the tears that streamed down her face fall, one of them splashing against the glossy cover of her book. She wiped it away before rereading his card over and over again. She hated how he seemed to see her, really see her, and everything she truly needed. There he was again, caring more than anyone else, more than he should have, even when she was mad at him.  It just made her want him for every reason she shouldn’t. She should want to fuck him… she should want his money… That was all she signed up to get. A few months of cash and to let him dick her down better than she ever had been before. All her problems and loneliness solved, at least temporarily.

Instead, her heart and soul were slipping deep into dangerous territory, he was dangerous territory. She still tried to force herself to resist it, her body hanging by a rope that was fraying at the middle as if an invisible force was taking an ax to it. And she did not know if she wanted to scramble back onto the ledge or let herself fall.

After a few minutes, she picked up the other envelope and slid the folded up pieces of paper out of it. The first one made her gasp… a flight confirmation for a first class ticket to Paris dated for one week from today. The second page was a short list of the things she should pack.  And the third was her hotel confirmation, a suite at a hotel she could not even pronounce but one quick google search let her know it was one of the nicest and most expensive hotels the city had to offer. 

The last page only contained two sentences in Michael’s handwriting. 

I hope you have a passport. See you in one week.

Raven spread the pages out on the counter, her face paralyzed in shock. 

“What the actual fuck?” She examined all of them, rereading as if the information on them would vanish or change right before her eyes. But the flight confirmation had her name on it, the hotel room… her name. It was all there in black and white. He was inviting her to Paris. 

“I should say no…” she spoke to herself, a false ring of conviction in her voice. “I can’t accept this.” Her internal debate raged as she paced up and down by the kitchen island, her eyes studying the papers with each pass. 

You know you want to, the devil on her shoulder reasoned. And fuck, did she want to. It’s fun… when’s the last time we took a trip or did anything fun? 

She had never wanted to accept anything as badly as she wanted to accept this. She chewed on her lip so hard she was surprised she did not draw blood as she debated and debated. Until her phone buzzed with a text from Mr. Surprises himself.

Michael: damn you sleep late as hell. 

Michael: Am I gonna see you in Paris in a week?

Raven: This was a huge gamble… What if I didn’t have a passport? 🤔

Michael: It was a huge gamble but not because of the passport. Consider it PTO… Come live a little. 

Michael: So did my gamble pay off or nah? 

She read through the papers one more time, deciding then and there that she was 100% going to Paris. Even her pride could not allow her to deny herself this experience. However, she decided to make him sweat a little, though she doubted he actually would. 

Raven: I guess you’ll find out in seven days. Thanks for the gift.  

Raven locked her phone before chuckling to herself. She grabbed her phone and the itinerary page and let out an excited squeal and did a happy dance before she raced off to her closet. She had a trip to pack for. 

Tag list: @readinghere2023 @blackerthings @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @physicxal @purplehairgawdess @miyuhpapayuh @rueruesclues @geemamii @certifiedlesbianbaddie @pipsqueak-98 @nyifly22 @destinio1 @twocentaur @gopaperless @musicisme333@roguekiki @majesticbrownjawn @taurusqueen83 @mysteryuz @miamormilan @itsknor-thedeep @naj-ay444 @mads-grace4 @nayaesworld @kholdkill @msniaimani @nccu-rnc

***

A/N: Wellllllllll… a lot happened! A little angst, a little fluff, a little smut lol just gave y'all the full spectrum of things. And it wouldn't be one of my fics if I didn't give you a character or two to despise along the way lol

Next chapter, we go to Paris, which not gonna lie… that wasn't in the OG outline of this haha but inspiration struck and now I'm very excited lol Drop a comment and let me know all your thoughts lol Thanks for reading!

[choccyhearts]

18+!!

okay, so you're a playmate for playboy, but not just any playmate, you're steve harrington's favorite playmate...

your magazine is released for his birth month and he immediately becomes obsessed, looking at your photos daily and buying 2 copies, one for the usual ~purposes~ and one meant to stay in pristine condition

he has your centerfold hanging above his bed, replacing his old celebrity crushes

he reads your data sheet and falls in love with the little piece of personality you let shine, finding that you two might actually get along in real life. but what throws him for a loop is the hawkins sweater you don in one of your photos that shows you fully clothed with your best friend

you're his age so why doesn't he recall you?

he flips through his old yearbook until he finds your photo. it wasn't too hard since you used your real name.

he looks at you and concludes that you've definitely changed. you've got a more mature face and the professional hair and makeup artists definitely played a big part in making you look ethereal

not to say you were ugly in highschool

because steves remembers finding you pretty cute, having considered pursuing you before nancy wheeler came along and stole his attention...

he can't help but fantasize what his life would be like if he went after you instead

if he carried your books and backpack, met up with you in the girl's bathroom, loved on you and stayed devoted...

when it comes time to vote for playmate of the year, he votes for you of course, even shamelessly hounding his friends to do the same. of course they tease him, robin even scoffing at him for being so caught up with something so stupid but he doesn't care

when you win he rejoices internally, knowing that you deserve that title more than anyone. now you're gonna be known as the most beautiful woman to the whole world, not just him

as a way of promoting your brand, your team encourages you to go back to your hometown to meet some of your fans

when steve gets wind of the news he nearly melts. he will do anything to see you, to breathe the same air as you

the time comes and he stands in the bookstore nervously, fidgeting and clutching his prized magazine fated to be signed

once he gets to the front he almost faints. you smile at him happily and greet him

he stutters out a "hello" and nervously slides his magazine to you. "i know you hear this a lot but you're gorgeous, i'm like in love with you-", he cuts himself off, internally cursing himself for rambling. you giggle and sign his magazine before asking for his name

"steve...steve harrington...", his voice trembles. "we, we actually went to high school together" he flashes you an awkward smile, trying to gain his suave nature back but failing miserably

you pause and think for a second before shaking your head, "i'm sorry, i don't remember a steve harrington, but i'm sure you were cool!" (you're fully lying, you just wanna humble him/embarrass him even more😈)

his face somehow gets redder and he nods, mumbling about how he understands

you slide the magazine back and wave him off, ready for the next person

as he walks to the side he looks at what you wrote:

"steve h.,

thanks so much for your support! you're my favorite fan! i'd love to see you again sometime!

xoxo..."

his fingers trace your words as he re-reads them over and over again

sure, it's just cheesy fluff that every celebrity writes

but it soon turns to a reality when he runs into you at the bar where he shows you just how much of a big fan he is...

(should i make this a full fic/series lmk...)

[selarina]

Out of Style

-> Suna Rintaro x Fem!Reader

Chapter 2: Digitial Duet

Summary: The following night, Suna can't help but find himself lured by your online persona.

Content Warnings: celebrity au, rockstar!suna rintaro, actress!reader, online interactions, band dynamics, fluff, sexual undertones, mention of smoking, character study, sensual imagery, eventual smut

Word Count: 1.7k words

Author's Note: I'm ngl lead singer!atsumu does things to me.... also, bonus points for you if you guess what osamu, aran and kita's roles are in the band

Series Masterlist | Read on AO3

Suna’s public account is filled with carefully curated images sent by his publicist, or sometimes it is simply just posted by a poor intern whose only job is analyzing and curating his online presence. He tried maintaining a sense of autonomy at first. After all, he only becomes a star after being on social media for quite a while. He quite liked it, the unseriousness of it all but too many sites have risen and fallen since then, and he’s realized he might be too old or too busy to get used to the new features.

So… Suna’s not one to spend a lot of time on social media, barring the one private Instagram account his sister, Reiko, set up for him. It’s private, it has the only photo ever posted on the account — a selfie of him and his sister from the same day she set the account up. She’s smiling at the camera, perfectly posed while he’s right behind her, his face is twisted, caught off guard. You could say he was objectively ugly in the photo.

Hmm? He stares down at the picture. Seems like he never really deleted it. He switches to his public account.

His eyes move to scan his phone screen for a brief second before he finds it. He’s still not used to how different everything is from the last time he used this app, and it’s only been two weeks. How can you change so much in so little time? And why would you even?

His finger taps to reach the search option, his fingers moving to type in your name. Immediately, he gets a list of results — a verified account on top with a profile picture of you. He looks at the rest of the accounts below yours, a list of fan accounts of you.

He clicks on your account.

When the screen finally opens, Suna is accosted by your familiar face, scattered across the range of tiny boxes.

He clicks on the first picture that catches his immediate eye, it’s a picture of you sitting outside an establishment. Your shoes are scattered beside you as you smile sweetly at the screen. He smiles.

Your profile actually looks like photos you are posting yourself, but well, so does his, he thinks. Frowning, he scrolls, and he scrolls. He feels like an intruder as his scrolling continues, but he can’t seem to stop for some reason. The photos are like a collection of your life — it’s full of photos of you, your friends, co-stars, your sister, and your cat. Sometimes, the occasional movie promotion, a fashion event, or something like that.

And then he stumbles upon it, it’s a photo of you wrapped in a blazer, as the rain pours in the foreground. And you — you’re twisting your head ever so slightly to address the camera directly with your eyes, and you manage to hold his eyes to yours for quite a well somehow. He can’t help but think if your lips are purposefully quirked with a ghost of a smile. He lingers far longer than he’d care to admit but eventually, he scrolls again, as one does.

Only to wash away his opinion of you, he says. Only to get accustomed and to get rid of this new feeling, he says.

He then stops at another picture, a promotional picture, but it’s not for your movie. It’s for this band. Scarlet Riot.

He remembers this band, during a meeting where his manager was very upset with the band for Scarlet Riot’s new single surpassing his band, Black Velvet’s single on the rankings. He remembers dozing off during the meeting and being forcefully woken up again, and again, and again until the manager had enough and sent him back home. He happily accepted.

He doesn’t know anything about Scarlet Riot, apart from the fact that they are apparently cut from the same cloth as his band but yes, he notices how there isn’t much visible. Not your face, not the guy’s face but he seems to be holding you and your very lightly covered body — just you in your bra, and your underwear to be candid.

The said faceless guy is clothed entirely with one hand grasping the small of your back, and the other one holding your leg up as you seem to lift it in tandem.

He immediately clicks off the post, switching to his official account as he searches for your profile.

His hands hover for a second over the send button before he clicks on it.

To be fair, he isn’t technically lying in his texts because he is now rewatching your movie to drown out the anticipation of your response, but at the moment he only had enough heed to hit send on the message then, and he didn’t know how long that would last.

He eyes his abandoned phone on the teak table in front of him, as he watches your movie. It currently has a conversation between two guys in the movie, and honestly, he couldn’t care less about them.

He couldn’t help it. He looked up the video, and he admits he can find himself agreeing with the rest of the 14 million people who seem to find the appeal. He pauses the video, and it pauses at a picture-worthy shot if he could say so himself — your eyes are heavy-lidded resulting in a sultry expression, akin to a languid panther moving through the tall grass, that makes something primal rake right beneath the confines of his body.

H clicks off from the video, turning off his phone as he unpauses your movie continuing to chomp on the rest of his pasta.

—

The next day, Suna found himself on auto-pilot making his way through the band's rehearsal studio. The place was cramped and confining — just as he secretly liked. It’s always overfilled with a diversified jumble of instruments, amps, and other recording equipment.

He adjusts his guitar strap as he began the process of plugging his instrument in. He’s early today, so it affords him the opportunity to observe as his bandmates and studio staff trickle in, one by one, as he sips on his coffee. He’s not usually a fan of hot beverages, preferring cooler, or lukewarm drinks but today, he needs the searing warmth to keep him from biting off his bandmates’ heads.

Atsumu, the drummer, finally saunters in with his signature impish grin that sent a surge of irritation coursing through Suna's veins. It’s just lack of sleep talking, he reassures himself as Atsumu takes a seat near him seating himself behind the drum set.

"Morning, Sleeping Beauty," Atsumu quipped, his voice cutting through the studio's ambient hum Suna grew comfortable in.

Suna's retort was swift, a deadpan stare, as he took another sip. "Don't call me that.”

“Well, you look the part.” Atsumu remained undeterred, as he reclined against the seat, a smirk etched upon his features.

Suna doesn’t respond, his attention returning to the coffee cup, as he took another sip.

“Where's everyone else?” Suna set aside the guitar, carefully placing his chair as he weaved through to discard the now-empty cup into the bin.

"Aran’s out for a smoke. Osamu’s stuck in traffic, surprise surprise. Kita’s at a shoot. He should be late today," Atsumu replied.

Suna's response was a barely discernible hum as he sat back in his chair. He occupied himself with tuning his guitar, his fingers moving with practiced familiarity, attuned to the nuances of each string.

They continued to wait in silence, Atsumu’s soft humming withheld. Not that Suna particularly took issue with it, in fact, it was a bit soothing to exist in his space, until Atsumu spoke again that is.

"So, you seemed to have an interesting night.” Atsumu's tone was teasing, his words laden with an underlying implication that Suna found distinctly annoying.

A warning glint flickered through Suna's eyes, his response lax but firm. "No idea what you’re talking about."

Atsumu leaned back against his seat, a smile playing on his lips. "Oh, come on now. We all saw you last night. Never knew you could physically bring yourself to smile."

Suna's eyes narrowed. “We were just talking.”

Atsumu barely hummed in response, but Suna’s annoyance seemed to seep back under his skin – he didn't want to engage in this conversation, especially not with Atsumu, who generally had a talented knack for pushing his buttons early in the morning.

Atsumu waggled his eyebrows as they raise up. "So, what kind of talkin' were ya doin', hmm?"

Suna shot a sharp look at Atsumu, his fingers pausing his task on the guitar. "None of your business."

“Okay,” Atsumu responds and Suna’s relieved. For all his many complaints about Atsumu, he truly does know how to read people, and as much as he seemed to like pushing boundaries, he never truly seemed to cross them.

“Just be careful,” Atsumu speaks up, Atsumu's tone was tinged with a rare sincerity. Suna finds it a bit too jarring like he’s an alternate reality.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s just — Relationships with other people like us never truly work out, ya know.”

“I know,” Suna responds, as his eyes flit down to his guitar. Suna's fingers slipped on the strings, creating a dissonant sound.

Atsumu sighs as his voice comes out in a subdued murmur, “I should know better than anyone,” before Osamu's voice carries from outside to inside the studio, disrupting the momentary exchange.

Osamu walks through pushing the entry door as he stomps over to where they are.

“Get off my seat, ya imp,” he says, tossing his back to the side before he proceeds to push Atsumu off the chair, and almost like he was slapped out of it — Atsumu’s back to his usual self as his hands rise up to pull Osamu’s hair.

At the backdrop of the familiar dance between Osamu and Atsumu, Suna pulls out of his phone and the muted buzz against his thigh.

Ping! His eyes flit up to the top of his phone. It’s you. He clicks on the notification.

yn_ln : sorry i passed out but wow, flattery and a movie review?

yn_ln : i'm honored

Suna smirks as he taps on the screen. His fingers seem to type out a reply before he's even fully aware of it.

[palomahasenteredthechat]

Hello! I am so thankful for you still entertaining open dialogue about all of this. I took a hard stop break from social media since last Sunday because the feeling in my stomach was unbearable. Part of me knew this would happen the second he signed to marvel and started getting more famous. Part of me was thrilled for him and part of me knew he would change. I know he was never partial to his fans and he is mostly weirded out by us, but I just feel very stupid, pathetic, and heartbroken in a way that honestly embarrasses me. I am thankful for the break from new photos this weekend but I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before more pop up. I hate this I hate it so much I am devastated. I feel like he’s laughing at us and rubbing it in our faces with every new photo that comes out, and I fear this is the real deal.

I just feel so stupid and upset and I muted a lot of his stuff on instagram and twitter, and am heavily trying to curate my experience on here, but it’s hard not to search and look at gossip and hurt my own feelings. Of course everyone I know keeps mentioning it to me since I’m the known fan amongst friend groups. I’m just so sad and disappointed in him, in me, and how I wish it would go away so I don’t feel a pit in my stomach every time I go online.

Sorry, thank you, and I really appreciate the space. It’s hard out here everyone is so self righteous and tries to play some kind of role that they’re above being invested in personal lives, but whatever I obsessed over him for over 2 years and just need to get it out. Hope you’re doing ok. Thanks again.

Oooohhh Nonny. It's going to be okay.

I'll say it again: it's going to be okay.

First of all, good for you for curating your online space. That was probably hard to do, but it most likely helped you. So give yourself a pat on the back for being proactive.

Second, don't apologize for your feelings. Fuck the haters. Anyone who mocks someone for feeling sad about something, no matter how trivial or ridiculous, isn't worth your time. Decent people don't do that.

Third, and this might sound harsh but isn't, I promise you: he's not throwing it in your face, because he's not thinking about his fans at all. It feels personal, but it's not.

I use this phrase jokingly, but remember, Joe's gonna Joe. He's going to do what feels right in the moment. He's young, he's on an upward career trajectory, he's feeling himself, he's not thinking about the past. He's living in the present.

He will show up again, doing things that might seem cringeworthy, or funny, or enraging, and the world will go on. Sometimes it's good to get some perspective away from a lot of this by changing your physical space - spend time with new people, or reconnect with old friends, or volunteer - I cannot stress volunteering enough, it really, really gets you out of your head.

I also give you permission to lie in bed and be a slug if that is healing for you, but don't make that your go-to forever. There's a big wide world out there, and it's meant to be lived in.

Hang in there Nonny. I promise you will be laughing hysterically at things sooner than you think.

[gumnut-logic]

“I can’t believe he did that!”

John looked up as his littlest brother stormed into the lab. Alan was still in his uniform and obviously fuming.

“Did what?” Apparently, his calculations would have to wait. He straightened in his seat and turned to face his brother.

“You didn’t see it?”

“See what?” Sometimes it took time to get to the point.

“Virgil cleaning my face in front of thousands of people. With his own spit.”

“Oh, that.” John fought the urge to roll his eyes. “That’s just Virgil, you know that.” He turned back to his workstation. He really needed to get these calculations done and sent to Brains. “Oh, and it is more like millions rather than thousands. An enthusiastic Tracy follower clipped the shot and posted it to social media. It’s got raving reviews.” He pulled up the post and flung the hologram in his brother’s direction before focussing once again on that argumentative variable.

“What?!”

John vaguely registered Alan glaring at the hologram and its attached comments.

“Cute? Adorable? Baaaaby Tracy? What the hell?!”

John had to smirk. “Yeah, well, your fans do love you.”

“My fans? What fans?”

That brought John to a halt. He looked up at his brother. “Your fans. The Spacey Tracy Tribute Troop.”

“What?!”

John arched an eyebrow at the shock on his brother’s face. “You can’t possibly tell me you didn’t know.”

But Alan’s stunned expression blatantly said he didn’t. John rolled his eyes. “Honestly, Alan. You have a whole array of fans who love you. And that moment with Virgil is at the top of the charts.”

“But it is so stupid!”

“Why?”

“Because only mothers do that to their toddlers!” Alan’s face was a little red.

“Well, perhaps you will consider that next time you stuff a hot dog in your face before a big presentation. That glob of mustard was visible from space.”

“He could have just told me.”

Patience. “This is Virgil we are talking about. How long have you known him?”

Alan didn’t answer that, because it was obvious. Virgil and of course Scott would always be defacto parents to the rest of the brothers. Hell, John had been twelve when they lost their mother, but he still valued having two older brothers during that time. He had always valued having Scott and Virgil to turn to for support.

His little brother deflated and threw himself into a chair in picture of utter dejection. “It sucks.”

“Really?” John stared at Alan. “Look at the shot and you tell me exactly what you see.”

Stubborn blue eyes looked up and narrowed on the hologram as it replayed over and over again. “I look stupid.”

John sighed. “Read the comments. None of them say you look stupid.” He threw up a few of the better ones. “If anything they say you look loved.”

Alan stared at him.

-o-o-o-

Alan Tracy didn’t remember his mother. She died when he was still a baby. He had stories and photos, but all his life it had just been his older brothers. They were the ones who saw him off at school, they helped him with his homework, they were the ones he went to for help and advice. He still remembered the night he discovered who Santa Claus actually was.

It was their first Christmas on the Island and nine year old Alan had been worried the big red guy would have trouble finding him out in the middle of the Pacific. So, despite the reassurances from both Scott and Virgil, he had set his alarm to wake himself up in the middle of the night.

Two am and he stumbled down the interior stairs of the new building. He could still remember the smell of new paint and wood stain and the slickness of the polished floor under his socks.

At first he had thought the voice was that of his father, but he knew his Dad was in New York for a special meeting. Scott had been rather loud in his argument against the his absence, but their father had left anyway.

Scott had been far from happy and Alan had given him a wide berth for most of Christmas Eve. Virgil had gathered them all for an evening movie, but even that had not fully dulled Scott’s expression. Not that his brother said anything. He just emanated unhappiness from the corner of the new lounge.

As he neared the main living room, he realised it was Virgil talking.

“Dad wouldn’t have gone if it wasn’t important.”

“What possibly could be more important than our family?” Scott’s voice had anger in it, but it wasn’t the angry of him yelling, it was more resigned and defeated.

“He’s doing this for Mom.” Virgil sounded like he was trying to convince himself. Paper rustled. “Hand me the ribbon.”

“Grandma is upset.”

“I know.”

“It isn’t right. This is our first Christmas here. He should be here.”

“Well, he isn’t, so we’ll make the best of it.”

“It isn’t fair to Alan.”

“He’s got us.”

“We’re not his parents.”

“May as well be.”

“Virgil.”

“You said it yourself. Dad’s not here. Mom’s gone. He’s got us. He’s got Grandma. Could be worse.” Another rustle and Alan moved closer to the edge and peered around the corner.

Virgil and Scott were surrounded by wrapping paper in the middle of the circular lounge. Several shapes sat wrapped to one side. On the other there was a pile of shopping bags. A rocket kit almost as tall as him sat in amongst them.

It was the rocket he had asked Santa for Christmas.

His brothers were wrapping presents. Virgil stood up and grabbed an armful of gifts and hauled them out of the sunken lounge and piled them up under the tree just beyond the piano.

What?

“What are you guys doing?” It burst out before he could think.

His brothers looked up, stunned expressions on their faces. “Alan?!”

“Virgil?” He eyed his eldest brother. “Scott?”

Virgil recovered first, Scott was still staring at Alan in shock.

“Hey, Allie, what are you doing up? Bad dream?” His brother put down the presents in his hands and walking around the lounge, headed in Alan’s direction.

“What are you doing?”

“Um...” Scott appeared stuck.

Virgil came up to him and put an arm around his shoulders. “We’re wrapping presents.” He squeezed a hug.

“But Santa...?”

Scott looked down at the wrapping paper in his hands. Virgil drew Alan close and walked him into the sunken lounge. He sat him down and took a seat beside him. “Well, I guess you’re old enough now.”

“Virgil.”

“Scott, he’s old enough.”

Alan frowned as his oldest brother’s shoulders slumped and his whole body sagged. He dropped the wrapping paper in his hands and sat down in defeat, running his hands through his hair. To be honest, that freaked Alan out more than anything. “What’s going on? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, Allie. Scott’s just had a bad day and he’s tired.”

“Then why isn’t he in bed? Why are you wrapping Christmas presents?” He felt he knew the answer, but it couldn’t be right, could it?

“We’re on Santa duty.” Virgil’s brown eyes were wide and honest and kind of caring.

“Santa duty? But where is Santa?”

Sad blue eyes looked up at him. “There is no Santa, Alan. We wrap the presents and put them under the tree for you.”

Alan stared him. “What?”

“There is a Santa.” Virgil was glaring at his eldest brother. “Just not the Santa you think you know.”

“What?”

“Every year we choose presents and under the guise of Santa, we gift them to those we love. You are now old enough to gift presents to those you love, too. You can be Santa.”

Alan stared at him. “But what about the North Pole and the reindeer and the red suit and...”

“A fairytale.”

“Scott.”

“C’mon, Virg, he’s found us out.”

“He’s found out the truth. That we as a family give each other gifts because we love each other. We don’t need to glam it up anymore.”

“You lied to me?”

Virgil’s eyes widened, but then he sighed. “A little.”

“Why?”

Scott stood up, walked around the centre table and sat on Alan’s other side. “Allie, it’s a coming of age thing.”

“Why?”

Virgil answered. “Because it is sometimes nice to believe there is a little magic in our lives.”

Alan remembered the disappointment he felt at that moment and perhaps the loss of innocence, but of that night, the one thing that still stuck in his mind was the sadness in his brothers’ eyes.

Sure, Virgil was cheerful and positive, and even if Scott had been a little tired and grumpy, he was there and an hour later after wrapping first Gordy’s present, then one for John, he had gone to bed with the new knowledge and a sense of responsibility.

The hugs hadn’t hurt either.

Christmas morning had a little less urgency to run down to the main room and Gordon had to be clapped around the ears by Grandma for teasing him about the whole thing, but it had just become another part of growing up.

That his mother and father had missed.

He didn’t hold it against them. Mom, he never knew, and Dad had to make the sacrifices so other families didn’t have suffer the loss of a parent like they had, but it really just was another example of his two eldest brothers being there for him.

Which really sunk in when he was officially orphaned two years later.

-o-o-o-

Alan continued to stare at John.

“Do you have a problem with being loved?”

“What? Nooo.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“I’m eighteen! They treat me like I’m still a kid!”

“You are still a kid.”

“No, I’m not!”

John held back the instinctive rebuttal and bit the inside of his cheek. “Alan, look at it from Scott’s point of view. He has been your guardian for eight years. Technically he is almost old enough to be your father. It has been his responsibility to look after you for even longer than that. That isn’t something that just switches off.”

“I’m not talking about Scott. I’m talking about Virgil. He’s not my guardian, but he treats me like he is.”

John’s lips thinned. “Don’t you ever say something like that to his face. In fact, don’t bother saying it in front of me again either. We’ve all made sacrifices, Alan, but none more than Scott, and Virgil isn’t far behind. You’d be better to recognise that and be grateful for what you have.”

Alan grumbled. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. They’re great, it’s just...so frustrating.”

“Then perhaps it is your turn to show the patience that has been offered you all these years.”

-o-o-o-

In 2055 the world lost the brilliant entrepreneur, billionaire business man and founder of International Rescue, Jeff Tracy.

Eleven year old Alan Tracy lost his Dad.

He also lost a part of his biggest brother. Scott had been forced to sit idle in Thunderbird One while his father tackled the Hood. He hadn’t been able to do anything but watch the Zero-X explode in front of him.

The whole family had been shattered, but no more than its new head. Scott was driven wild, determined that their father was not dead. The world disagreed, the explosion had been too final, too definite, to be anything but fatal. But Scott refused to believe.

There were arguments. They tried to hide them from the youngest brothers, and yes, at sixteen Gordon was almost as under-aged as Alan. But the pair of them could hear Scott’s strident and commanding voice echo through the house, followed by Virgil’s bellowed contradiction.

The day Alan found Grandma crying in the kitchen was the last straw.

“Grandma?” Did his voice have to sound so small?

She startled and turned. Her eyes were red and wet and, oh god, there were tears on her cheeks. “Grandma? What’s wrong?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, dear. Umm...I’m just not feeling right at the moment. I’ll be okay.” She reached out and squeezed his shoulder, but the smile was so forced his heart broke.

“Is it because Scott and Virgil are fighting?”

She shook her head, but didn’t seem to be able to say anything.

“Is it because of Daddy?”

And there were tears running down her face and he found himself wrapped in her arms. To his shock, he found he was almost her height, her head resting easily on his shoulder. “It will be okay, Allie.” But her voice was sobbing.

Eventually, she straightened and her smile became brighter and she sent him on his way. Told him to go clean his room, in fact, but Alan had a better idea.

He found them facing off on either side his father’s desk. Holograms hovered over it and his two biggest brothers were glaring at each other through the flickering images.

“It is what Dad would do.”

“You are not Dad.”

“Somebody has to be.”

“Why?! Why Scott? Why can’t we be ourselves?”

“Because this is what Dad would have wanted us to do.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I do! I knew him better than you!”

Virgil took a step back, eyes widening.

Scott echoed his expression as if realising exactly what he had just said. “I didn’t mean that, Virgil. I’m sorry.”

Plaid clad shoulders straightened and squared. “Yes, you did. But regardless, International Rescue was his dream, not ours.”

“So you want to give it up? Just like that?”

“No! As I have said multiple times, we just need to do it differently! We’re down an operative. Gordon and Alan are not old enough to take their places on the team. Hell, they may not even want to! We can only do so much. Give John some time to find his feet, for goodness sake.”

“Time is something we do not have. People will die.”

“People will die anyway! I just want to make sure no Tracys are on that list!” Virgil was leaning over the desk, his big shoulders wound so tight, his shirt look fit to bust a seam.

Alan had intended to yell at them, maybe scream a little for what they had done to Grandma, but instead their words scared him and suddenly he had tears on his cheeks, just like Grandma.

“Allie?” Virgil caught sight of him and within a split second was kneeling on the hardwood in front of him. “What’s wrong?”

It took him a moment to find his voice but he found himself wrapped in soft plaid flannel anyway, big hands rubbing his back.

“You hurt Grandma.” It came out as a sob.

“What? What’s wrong with Grandma?” Scott was standing beside them, his stance immediately ready to go and fix whatever problem Alan was able to point him at.

Unfortunately he was part of the problem.

He pulled away from Virgil and turned on both of them. “You. Both of you. You made Grandma cry. All you do is yell and fight!”

Both brothers froze and his eleven year old heart beat an extra beat in just a tiny bit of triumph. Perhaps they would listen? “Since Daddy died, you’ve done nothing but fight. I hate it when you fight and so does Grandma. Gordon hates it too. He goes swimming to get away from it. I don’t even know where John is. Please stop.” His throat caught again and he almost strangled on a sob. “Please.”

To his horror he realised Virgil had tears in his eyes and that, of course, only set Alan off more. Once again he found himself wrapped in his big brother’s arms. Virgil’s chest rumbled with words, but Alan didn’t understand what he said.

When he surfaced, Scott was no longer in the room.

“Scott has gone to find Grandma, to make sure she is okay.” Virgil wasn’t letting him go and his big brother had red rimmed eyes. Virgil’s voice was little more than a rumble. “I’m sorry, Allie. We’ll try to do better.”

His brother held him for a long time. Eventually Scott and Grandma found their way into the comms room, John was called out of his hidey-hole and Gordon dragged out of the pool. There was much family talking, hugging, a little more crying, but ultimately they worked it out enough to keep going.

The arguments stopped.

Well, mostly. Virgil still brought them out on very special occasions. Usually when Scott was being a pig-headed moron which fortunately wasn’t very often.

Life went on as best it could.

But then Gordon had the hydrofoil accident.

-o-o-o-

There was silence in the lab after that. Alan wasn’t happy, it was obvious, but he didn’t say anything so John just let him stew a while. Let him take the next step in the conversation.

After all, these calculations weren’t going to calculate themselves.

He just made it into that comfortable zone where he knew exactly what he was doing and had to be done, the numbers flowing, the equations dancing to his tune, and...

“What was Mom like?”

John blinked. That came from left field. Numbers dissolved in his head. “What did you want to know?”

“You know, things.”

“Things? You’ve seen the videos.”

“Of course, I have.” Their father, Scott and the budding artist, Virgil, had made many home videos over the years. They still did, knowing exactly what could be taken away in a flash and without notice. So there was plenty of footage of their mother.

Virgil was the brother most often found delving into those files. John had done his fair share of watching late at night when the Earth so far below just didn’t give him what he needed. Eos knew those files well and often offered them without prompt when John was feeling down.

But Virgil was the one who had the most affinity for their mother. Not to devalue any brother’s grief, but as Virgil had been the closest to her, the most like her in both appearance and interests. Knowing her must have been like learning about himself, his art, his music and answering all those questions their father just couldn’t answer.

John had a few of those himself. He had no doubt Virgil had more.

“She was a lot like Virgil is today. If you’re asking if she would have wiped the mustard off your face, I can tell you right now, she did the exact same thing to me on multiple occasions.” It had been quite gross actually. Fortunately, he had learnt fast and removed the stimulus for such an action at an early age.

His musician brother had been fifteen to John’s twelve and Alan’s one year when they had lost their mother. Alan had no memory of her. Gordon at age six had been just old enough to know what he had lost but not really why. John swore that the close bond between Gordon and Virgil had been forged in those early years as their older brother had responded when Scott couldn’t, tied up with the ball of grief that was their father.

It had been a bad time, but they had struggled through it.

“She used to sing a lot. She and Virgil sang together every Christmas.” His brother hadn’t sung much since, the tradition lost to grief. “She was more open than Dad. Less of a stickler for rules, more willing to be flexible.” Their father was military and he fell back on discipline when at a loss.

Scott thrived under his father’s regime.

Virgil did not.

And his resemblance to his mother didn’t help in the slightest.

“Mom knew how to make Dad smile. She loved a good joke. Heh, I swear Gordon gets that from her. Once she put a jack-in-the-box in Scott’s lunch box. He nearly had a heart attack in the school cafeteria.”

“Why would she do that?” Alan frowned up at him.

“She believed in experience being the greatest teacher. She caught Scott boasting about his parents to another kid who was far less fortunate. About all their successes. She didn’t appreciate it and figured Scotty could come down a peg or two. She succeeded.”

“Wow. Scott did that?”

John snorted. “Scott was a kid as much as any of us once. He’d prefer you believed he sprouted fully formed, but no, he had to grow up and make the same stupid mistakes we did.” Half a smile. “He’s far from perfect, but he tries.”

“He certainly does.” Alan grinned a little fondly, but then his face fell and he sighed. “You’re right. I’m being an ass.”

An arched eyebrow. “I never said you were an ass.”

“No, but I am. You guys have been great. I couldn’t ask for more.”

“Except maybe a little less saliva?”

“Eww, yeah, Virg had garlic bread for lunch.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

John couldn’t help it, he burst out laughing.

Alan stared at him a moment longer before his face cracked too.

“Gotta love him anyway, I guess.”

A snort. “Yeah, we do.”

-o-o-o-

Gordon’s career was a fast one. Straight out of high school and into the Olympics. By the time he was eighteen, he had a gold medal hanging on the wall and had started his career in WASP.

Alan missed his fishy brother, but he was ever so proud of him. There had been talk of him joining International Rescue and activating the final Thunderbird once his training and tenure was done. Alan had seen his brother hovering around the slick little yellow submarine and Scott had been heard to wish for the full complement of Thunderbirds to finally be deployed.

The fact John was flying the ‘bird Alan wanted to fly more than anything was beyond frustrating.

Virgil was helping Alan with his physics homework when the call came through.

A familiar face flickered up on the holoprojector at the end of the kitchen table. “Aunt Val. Hey, how are you?” Virgil offered her a smile as Alan surfaced from under the details of pressure, torque, momentum and velocity that were required to tackle the problem at hand.

“Good morning, Virgil. Is Scott available?”

“Unfortunately, no. He’s out on a rescue. Can I help you?”

“Hey, Aunt Val.”

“Alan.” Her expression was grave and something in Alan’s gut twisted.

“What’s wrong?”

Beside him, Virgil sat up straighter. “What is it?”

The Colonel sighed. “I’m afraid I am the bearer of bad news. Your brother Gordon has been in an accident...”

And their world dissolved there and then.

Alan didn’t remember much of those early days. There had been frantic calls to brothers, John limping around because he had crashed to Earth too quickly for his own health. The fear in Scott’s eyes had been terrible.

The sight of his fish brother decked out in medical equipment.

The not knowing.

The terror.

Virgil holding him in the hospital corridor while Alan cried his eyes out all over his shirt.

Scott sitting at his brother’s bed, head bowed down to the sheets clinging to a limp hand.

John, vacant eyed, staring into nothing the night they thought they were finally going to lose Gordon.

Virgil crying in his grandmother’s arms.

Scott kicking a hole in Gordon’s door and making enough racket to wake up the dead.

Gordon answering the call and faintly scolding Scott to keep it down.

The hope that followed.

That first week, their lives froze. Everything stopped. School, IR, regular meals, everything. The outside world kept moving around them, ignoring their pain, but within their family everything stopped, narrowing only to the hospital and their desperately ill brother.

Once Gordon woke up. It started to move again.

Life slowly came back.

It became full of odd moments. Brothers in places he didn’t expect to find them. Gordon’s illness brought out aspects of Alan’s family he didn’t expect.

He had to say that the most unexpected was the day John walked into Gordon’s hospital room with his red hair spiked in all different directions. It was as if he had stuck his fingers in a power socket and sprayed gel into his hair at the same time.

Gordon had laughed himself silly and considering there had been tears half an hour prior, this was a major thing.

Apparently Gordon had dared him once to do it and John had saved it for a special occasion.

Alan made sure he took pictures for history’s sake.

Another day he found Virgil curled up asleep in the chair beside Gordon, his head on his brother’s pillow. The engineer was still in his uniform and covered in dirt. The hospital staff were going to have a fit.

Alan stopped in the doorway and Scott collided with his back with a “What?”

“Shhh...” And Gordon was holding up a very shaky and uncoordinated hand that clearly said ‘Leave him be.’

“What’s he doing here? He’s supposed to back at Tracy Island.” Scott’s voice was a worried whisper.

“B-bad rescue.” Gordon’s voice was as shaky as his hand. “Think he w-want to ch-check I’m ‘kay. Cos they weren’t.”

“Shit.” It was little more than expelled breath.

His big brother disappeared out into the hallway and a moment later they had the full story from John.

A boat. A teenage boy. And a flood. Virgil did his best, but there were limits.

They sat together until Virgil woke up, groggy and miserable. Scott took him out of the room and Alan was left alone with Gordon.

“I should been there.” His brother’s speech was patchy. The hydrofoil he had be travelling in had been at travelling at a ridiculous speed. When one of its foils collapsed, he was very lucky he wasn’t killed. There was a long, long road ahead.

“Wasn’t your fault, Gordon.”

“No, but should be there for him.”

As if that was the starting point. His brother picked himself off the ground and drove himself back to health. It took a lot of work and no small amount of pain, but a year later Gordon Tracy presented himself to the Commander of International Rescue ready for action.

It took another six months and Gordon’s birthday for his brother to be drunk enough to mention to Alan exactly what had happened that afternoon and what Virgil had said to him.

His fish brother held up his glass, grim and serious. “Our big bros are THE BEST.”

Alan smiled, hoping to god Gordon wouldn’t remember this conversation in the morning. The fact Virgil had come off a hell of a rescue, exhausted and upset, and flown in to see Gordon just to sing him a lullaby was baffling. But it had apparently done something for Gordon and for that Alan would ever be grateful.

-o-o-o-

“So what happens when we find Dad?”

John started, suddenly thrown out of old memories. “Uh, whatever needs to happen?”

“Do you think he will be okay? It has been so long.”

Eight years alone in space. “I don’t know, Alan.”

“How did we not work this out earlier? That capsule was sitting down there all that time. Dad has been waiting so long. He’s missed so much.”

John closed his eyes and touched his fingers to the bridge of his nose. “I don’t have the answers, Alan. I’m sorry.”

“I know.” His little brother swallowed. “It’s just that I can’t remember much about him anymore. He’s going to be a stranger.”

“He’s our father. We’ll make it work.” They had to make it work. The guilt was tearing Scott apart. Eight years. Eight long years just because they had missed one piece of the puzzle. Dad could have been home years ago.

The yelling had started again. Scott angry and hurt, Virgil battling to keep him on the straight and narrow and tackling his own guilt at the same time.

John felt the guilt, too. He had looked at everything after the incident. Everything. He had even combed space. Eos had been looking for their father from the day she joined him despite John’s heart telling him it was a lost cause, that Scott was wishing for the impossible, that it had been too long. She had been scanning for three years they still hadn’t found him. Until now, and from a clue that could have...should have been found so long ago.

“I wonder what he looks like.”

John closed his eyes.

“Johnny? You okay?”

“Don’t call me Johnny.”

He received a snort for that. “Yeah, well, I guess it will be good to save Dad and bring him home.”

A frown. “You guess?”

“Well, yeah, it will be great. But you are right.”

The frown deepened and he looked over at his little brother. “I right? With what? You’ve lost me.”

“Well, Scott and Virg are really the ones who’ve been there for me, you know?” Alan rubbed the back of his head. “So, like, they are the closest I have to parents. They were doing that gig even before Dad went missing.”

John stared.

His little brother didn’t notice. Instead he stood up. “Well, I guess I should get out of this uniform. Getting a little ripe, I think. Anyway, thanks for the chat, bro.”

And with that Alan bounced out of the lab as fast as he had bounced in.

John blinked and turned back to the calculations he had been trying to wrangle this entire time.

But the numbers ignored him.

Dad.

Scott.

Virgil.

If they found their father, things were going to change.

John frowned and rubbed his face.

Damn.

-o-o-o-

FIN.

[fluffyf0x]

FORGOTTEN VALENTINE

Kaedehara Kazuha x Reader

Sleepysnk valentine special Collab!!!

TW: n/a

Plot synopsis: Kazuha usually works overtime, and it was February 14, your anniversary. He apparently forgot about it being your anniversary and tried his best to make up to it.

Forgotten Valentine

｡･ﾟﾟ･ Now Playing: Good old Fashioned Lover boy by Queen　･ﾟﾟ･｡

Kazuha felt fear. He wasn't sure what it was, but his gut told me there was something weird. Something that he was... Forgetting?

He double checked the calendar and saw that it was February 14. He raised his brow. He should probably buy something for his girlfriend. It was Valentines after all. He sighed, looking back to the computer screen.

He needed to finish his work first. Piles upon piles of papers he needed to encode and revise. The busy environment of the office and his boss screaming at the other employees didn't help with the stress he felt right now.

Kazuha looked at the framed photo of him and his girlfriend, (name). He smiled softly, fingers ghosting over the photo. It calmed him somehow.

It was weird, how he felt around you. It wasn't the same way you said you would feel around someone you've fallen for. He didn't feel butterflies around you. He didn't feel like his heart was pounding. Well sometimes it does. But it was different from how stories and people play how being in love felt.

He felt calm, he felt safe and comfortable when he's with you. Like he could do anything and you wouldn't judge. It was simple. He knew he admired you. It might not be the same way everyone describes love, but he was sure, he loved you.

Kazuha knew he wanted to be with you.

He saw his boss starting to walk towards him. He quickly turned back to his computer screen, fixing his posture. He typed away and tried to look busy and working. His boss stopped by the desk, narrowing his eyes on as if he was judging him. Kazuha looked over and smiled awkwardly. His boss left right away.

Kazuha sighed in relief. With all the work he needed to finish, another scolding wasn't something that would help...at all.

Kazuha already knew he left early in the morning, (name) still being asleep. He hoped to that he wouldn't need to leave late in the night later.

Kazuha felt that something was wrong. He hasn't gotten any message from (name) and second, he was really forgetting something. Kazuha walked out of the office with Beidou who was already lighting a cigarette. Beidou laughed as Kazuha gave her a confused look.

"Ah, I remember how you asked out (name) on this fateful day 5 years ago, you guys were mere college students who were about to graduate." Beidou said. Kazuha widen his eyes as he looked at the female.

"SHIT"

Kazuha dashed and left Beidou in a hurry.

No no no no no, how could he forget? He was so stupid.

He pulled out his phone as he dashed inside the flower shop. Panting a bit as he ordered his girlfriend's favorite flowers. His phone vibrated and rang as multiple messages from his friends, his family and his girlfriend showed up.

Oh god he was absolutely stupid.

Kazuha thanked the florist. Admiring their beautiful handiwork. He was sure that you would love this.

He then rushed to another store to buy chocolates. Knowing that you like (favorite chocolate) the most. He never really asked but he was pretty sure it was your favorite, especially with the amount of times you've eaten it.

Kazuha stopped in his tracks as he passed by a electronics store. He remembered a few weeks back that you wanted this specific mini fan. Fortunately for him, he got his salary just recently and isn't really hesitant to buy things for you. Kazuha smiled, purchasing the mini fan.

"Your girlfriend is lucky" the woman by the cashier said, noticing all the gifts Kazuha bought. She seemed to be pretty young. She smiled as Kazuha returned the smile. He took the paper bag with the mini fan and left. On his way to the train station, one the way home.

Kazuha walked in to the shared apartment. You and Kazuha were able to find a good apartment with a pretty cheap price. The two of you even questioned at first if it was legit. After confirming and checking out the apartment, the two of you rented it.

Kazuha first noticed the smell of food. He also noticed your scent was a bit far from the food. So he guessed that you were in the room. He walked there and saw sitting there, reading a book. You looked up after noticing a presence. Seeing Kazuha standing there awkwardly with a flower bouquet and chocolates and a paper bag.

You raised your eyebrow in question.

"You forgot it was our anniversary huh?" You asked. Kazuha chuckled and nodded. He walked towards you giving you all the gifts.

"Yes, I apologize my love" Kazuha said. You laughed as he kissed you in the forehead.

"You're forgiven. You got me all of this-" you stopped in your tracks as you saw what was in the paper bag. You grinned.

"You got the mini fan"

Kazuha nodded sheepishly. You put down the gifts and hugged him, standing on tiptoes. Burying your head to his neck. You inhaled his scent and enjoyed the peace as he hugged you back.

"Happy anniversary Kazuha" you whispered. Kazuha smiled softly, looking at you as he rubbed your back.

"Happy anniversary my love"

[scribblesofagoonerr]

September Love | Never Grow Up

the third and final installment in this mini series.

summary: remi starts her first year of big school and there's a new arrival in the williamson family

pairings: leah williamson x reader

“I can’t believe it’s this time already,” Leah says, a frown etched on her face as she stares at an old photo of Remi at 5 weeks old that she had saved in her phone, “Where has the time gone?” She murmurs.

It only felt like it was yesterday.

“We blinked Le,” You tell her, your eyes softening, “And just like that, she’s off to big school.” You add.

“But she’s still too tiny for big school, isn’t she?” Your wife exhales a sigh and continues to stare at the photo on her phone with tears welling up in her eyes.

“Le, she’s 5 years old now. We have to let her go now,” You say gently, reminding your wife that your eldest girl was indeed not a baby now.

“I still don’t like it though,” Leah admits quietly, shaking her head in disagreement.

You can’t help but chuckle heartily, “She’s only going into her first year of reception, it’s not like she’s moving out the country,” You tease your wife, which you’re quick to be on the dirty end of a scowl, “Come on Le, you know what I mean.”

“Don’t even joke about things like that,” Leah murmurs, continuing to frown at you, “You don’t get it though, it’s her first day of big school… which means she’s not a baby anymore.” She adds.

“No she’s not,” You reply quietly in agreement.

Your wife bites her bottom lip and shakes her head vigorously, “I don’t like it. Why can’t we just turn back the clock?” She asks.

“It doesn’t work like that,” You laugh humorlessly and shake your head.

“It’s just,” Leah begins to say as she finds the right words, “She was our tiny little baby at one point and now… now she’s just growing up so fast.”

“Don’t worry, we’ve still got time to go through all this again, remember?” You tell her, gesturing towards your swollen belly as you are ready to give birth any day now, “Twice.”

“I know,” Your wife’s eyes soften as she crouches down and rests her hands on your baby bump, “I can’t wait to meet you baby boy.” She whispers, placing a gentle kiss on your stomach.

“And he can’t wait to meet his Mummy either,” You tell her, genuinely smiling at the blonde, “Any day now.” You add, hopeful that he does make his appearance sooner rather than later after getting to the stage of being uncomfortable, and pregnancy during Summer is no joke.

“Why’re you sad, Mummy?” Remi’s voice pipes up out of nowhere, all ready for school wearing her brand new school uniform that you have to admit looks massive on her, her hair done up in a loose ponytail with a red ribbon attached while she wears her new black shiny shoes that you had the absolute misfortune of having to experience standing in a queue to just to get into the busy shop – that is something that you can definitely say you’re not such a fan off.

“Oh I’m not sad, baby Gooner,” Leah immediately plasters a smile on her face, “I’m just… I’m really proud of you, you know?” She adds, wiping away the stray tears from her face.

“But you’re crying though,” Remi frowns in confusion as she tilts her head to the side, “You only do that when you’re sad, like when you watch them really sad films about the puppies or when you’re on the pitch sometimes–”

“Okay, okay, I think we get it,” Leah interjects, before your daughter has any further chance to expose your wife for the softy that she really is, “I’m not sad, baby Gooner. I’m just so excited for you that you’re starting big school today. Are you excited?” She questions.

“Uh huh! I am so excited, I can’t wait to make lots of friends like uncle Jacob told me about!” Remi is vibrating with excitement, which is more than can be said about your wife.

“You’re going to make so many new friends!” You reassure your little girl with a proud smile on your face, “Alright, how about we take a picture for your first day of big school, yeah?”

“Yeah!” Remi jumps up and down in delight at the idea.

“Big smiles, Remi Roo!” You encourage as your daughter flashes you a gap-toothed smile from the tooth that she lost just the previous week.

You make it a whole family occasion with Esme toddling in to join in the photo opportunity and many snaps are taken amongst your little family of four, soon to be five.

“Perfect, baby girl!” You tell her, taking lots of pictures as you stare at them with a sense of nostalgia as all the sudden memories come to light of the several milestones Remi has achieved over the last 5 years, “You really are growing up, Remi Roo.”

“I don’t like it, it’s too many milestones at once,” Leah cracks under the pressure and shakes her head, wiping another stray tear away.

“Le,” Your facial expression softens as you wrap your arms around your wife to comfort her.

“It’s okay, Mummy!” Remi wraps her small arms around Leah’s legs, “Don’t be sad now! It’s gon’ be okay!”

“Me join!” Esme, not wanting to be left out, holds her hands up in the air for you to lift her up, “Mummy sad?” She asks, confused.

“A little bit,” You answer your youngest honestly.

“I make it better,” Esme declares, pressing a sloppy kiss on Leah’s cheek, “All better?”

“Much better, thank you Essie Bear,” Leah coos, returning a gentle kiss to Esme’s cheek.

“You can still cuddle me, even when I’m at big school!” Remi points out, peering up to look at your wife from where she’s stood, “It’s okay!”

“Oh, well in that case then I am definitely holding you to that,” Leah grins and scoops Remi up into her arms, “I’m gonna get in all the snuggles in that I can!” She says, squeezing her tightly.

“Alright, alright,” You break it up jokingly, “Let’s not smother her before she even makes it out the door for her first day.”

“Don’t you dare make fun of me,” Leah tells you, pointing her index finger in your face, “This is a big moment today.” She adds, placing Remi back down on the floor.

You snicker in amusement at your wife’s expense, “Oh don’t I know it? Big bad scary Leah Williamson crying over her little girl’s first day at big school,” You pause, the smirk not leaving your face, “Gosh, what will the world think?”

Your wife glares at you and gently swats you, “Shut up, I’m allowed to be emotional today.”

“Uh huh, and what’s the reason for every other day then?” You can’t help but wonder with a shit eating grin on your face.

“You’re lucky that I love you,” Leah murmurs, rolling her eyes at your antics to wind her up.

“And I love you too,” You reply, pecking her on the lips, “You’re the lucky one that I put up with you being a blubbering mess every time Remi does something that’s deemed ‘too grown up’,” You remind her, amusedly.

“I’m emotional, okay?” Leah exclaims, throwing her hands up in the air, “She’s our eldest, our baby… Our baby Gooner!”

“You can’t call me that anymore, Mummy!” Your 5 year old points out, “I’m not a baby!”

Your wife pouts at your daughter's words and shakes her head, “You will always be my baby, no matter how old you get,” She pauses, “Even when you’re 30 and you have your own family.”

Remi wrinkles her face up in disgust, “Boys are yucky, I don’t want a boyfriend.” She states,

“And you’re definitely right to think that,” You chuckle amusedly as you gather your small family out of the door and make your way to your wife’s BMW, “I think if Mummy had her way, she wouldn’t let you date until you’re 25 at least.” You joke.

“I’m ready to go in!” Remi announces, standing outside of the school gates in a tone that sounds far more grown up than her 5 year old self, “I’m not scared.”

“It’s good to not be scared, you’re going to have so much fun!” You tell her, holding her hand and guiding her through the gates of the school while Leah follows behind holding Esme’s hand, “You’re going to smash it, baby girl!”

“And we’ll be right here to pick you up when the day is done, okay?” Leah reassures your daughter, catching up with your toddler, who likes to walk at her own pace.

“Okay!” Your eldest nods in agreement, bouncing on her toes as she carries her backpack that looks way too big for her.

“Rem! Rem!” Esme shouts to get her big sister’s attention, “Rem!”

“I’m going to big school, Bear,” Remi crouches down and wraps her arms around her little sister, “But I’ll see you when I’m home and tell you all about it!”

Watching the exchange between your daughters, makes your heart swell with pride and a touch of bittersweetness.

“Miss ‘ou, Rem,” Esme pouts, a little frown forming on her tiny face as her voice wobbles, as if she’s on the verge of tears.

“Miss you too, Bear,” Remi continues to squeeze her little sister tightly, “I’ll be back later though, don’t worry!” She adds with a smile that reveals her recently lost tooth.

“Come here, you,” Leah crouches down to your daughter’s level and wraps her arms around her, squeezing her tightly as if to not let go and hold on to her forever, “I’m so proud of you, here at big school, eh?  You’re going to make so many friends and learn so much! Oh, and have a lot of fun as well!” She tells her.

“Mummy,” Remi attempts to wriggle away from your wife’s embrace, “You’re… You’re squeezing too tight.” She whines,

“I’m just soaking up the moment until you’re home from school,” Leah admits, pulling back and brushing a loose strand of hair behind Remi’s ear, “Big school, eh? I wish you would stop growing up so much on me, I don’t like it.” She jokes with her.

“You have to let me grow up, Mummy,” Remi’s giggle is infectious as she squeezes your wife again tightly, “I gots’ to go in now, but I’ll see you when you pick me up, remember?”

“We will be right here waiting for you,” You tell her, unable to crouch down properly with your swollen belly in the way, “We’re so proud of you, Remi Roo!” You add, kissing the top of her head.

You spot your daughters’ teacher making her way over to your family as she gives you both a kind smile, “Hi, Remi. Are you ready to go in?” She asks.

“Yes!” Remi excitedly replies, giving you both a final hug goodbye before she takes hold of her teachers’ hand and begins to walk in the building, “Bye, Mummy! Bye, Mumma! Bye, Bear!” She calls back, her voice ringing with excitement.

“Bye, baby Gooner,” Leah waved back, her voice catching slightly as you see the glimmer of tears threatening to spill over again.

You can feel your own chest tightening as you force a smile and wave, “See you later, Remi Roo. Have the best day!”

“Bye-bye, Rem! Love you!” Esme clings to Leah’s leg, waving frantically.

“Save your tears for the car, Le,” You tease, taking note of your wife’s eyes, the tears are a lot more visible now, “I know it’s hard to watch her go in there, but it’ll be 3 o’clock before we know it.” You add, hoping that helps things a little better.

“I know,” Leah murmurs in agreement, walking round to the pre-school that Esme attended next to the school.

You can say that dropping Esme off to pre-school wasn’t too hard, although there were extra tight hugs given before your youngest daughter ran off inside without a care in the world.

Much to your wife’s disappointment, and you swear the tears threaten to spill again.

“At least we know what your weakness is now,” You joke, climbing back into the passenger seat of the car after dropping them both off, “It’s only a few hours, remember? It’ll be here before we know it.” You tell her.

Leah tries to laugh it off and shake her head as she climbs into the driver's seat, “Yeah, and to think I still have to go to training,” She pauses as wipes a visible tear away as she buckles her seatbelt in, “I wish I could just tell Jonas that we have a family emergency.” She tells you.

It’s at that moment, you completely freeze as you feel a sudden wet patch on your leather seat.

 “Um, Le,” You mumble, getting her attention as she fiddles with the dials of the car to find the right music playlist, “I think you might need to call Jonas and tell him that there’s a family emergency.” You say.

Leah turns towards you and looks confused, “Why’s that, love?” She wonders.

“Well, because I’m 99% sure that my waters have just broken,” You admit, gazing down to motion to the seat.

It takes literal seconds for your wife’s eyes to widen in shock, “What? Here? Now?” She rambles in a clear panic, “Seriously? Oh my God!”

“Don’t panic,” You murmur, trying to keep the situation calm despite your best efforts – Your wife is very much in a complete panic over this.

“I’m not… I’m not panicking,” Leah stutters her words as she runs her hand through her hair, “What'd we do? Do you feel like you have contractions? We need to get the hospital bag from the house!” She continues to ramble.

You shake your head in disagreement, “I don’t feel like there’s any currently,” You pause, “We’ll go home, stay there until they start and head to the hospital when it’s time, yeah?” You suggest, trying to keep calm in the situation despite the one being hours away from giving birth.

“O… Okay,” Leah swallows the lump that’s formed in her throat, “We’ll go home, we’ll wait there– I need to call my Mum, she’ll need to pick the girls up.” She notes in realisation.

“Yeah, I somehow don’t think it’s going to be possible to be there for the 3 o’clock pick up after all,” You murmur, exhaling a sigh, “Little man has decided today’s the day to make his grand entrance into the world.”

Plans don’t always go straight forward. You certainly didn’t expect to go into labour on the very same day your eldest daughter started big school, but it is what it is sometimes.

“I hate the fact that my Mum had to pick Remi up on her first day,” Leah murmurs in a hushed voice, settling on the bed in the hospital beside you where you lay after just giving birth.

“Rem will understand, Le,” You lay back against the pillows with your newborn son, Archie George Williamson, cradled against your chest, fast asleep while you can hear his tiny breaths that are slow and even, his fingers curled into little fists against your shirt.

“I know but we promised her that we would be there,” Leah exhales a sigh as she gently strokes your baby boy’s head, “Someone was just too impatient to wait.” She coos.

“I think our family is complete now,” You whisper, careful not to disturb your newborn son nestled against you.

“I’d say so,” Leah replies, her voice soft as her eyes never leave Archie’s face, “He’s perfect, isn’t he? His big sisters are going to absolutely love him when they meet him.”

You both share a quiet, knowing smile as you capture this moment of magic that feels entirely new and familiar to you both. However that tranquillity is short lived, broken by the unmistakable sound of little feet thundering towards your hospital room.

“Speaking of sisters, it’s after 3 o’clock,” You whisper with a chuckle, bracing yourself.

Before your wife can even get a chance to even reply, the door flies open with a bang, “Mummy!” Remi shouts, her voice full of excitement as her hair now wild and free from its ponytail, running into the room with wide eyes, bright and full of curiosity.

“Mumma! Mummy!” Esme echoes, hot of her sister’s heels, her usual energetic self completely oblivious to your sleeping newborn nestled on your chest.

“Shhh, girls,” Leah gently admonishes, holding up a finger to her lips, “We have to be quiet and use our inside voices.” She reminds them softly.

Remi is the first to stop short, suddenly aware of the little bundle lying against your chest, “Is that him?” She whispers, her eyes widen even more as she tiptoes over to you with exaggerated caution as she barely is able to manage her own excitement.

“It is,” You nod, smiling at her, “Girls, this is your baby brother, Archie.”

Esme’s face lights up with delight, “Baby?” She says, her voice high-pitched and curious, “My baby?” She asks.

“Your baby brother,” Leah corrects with a grin, scooping Esme up to give her a better view of your newborn, “See? He’s very little, so we have to be very gentle with him.”

You watch as Remi leans in closer, her little face filled with wonder, “He’s tiny, Mumma,” She reaches out, carefully touching Archie’s tiny hand, “He’s smaller than my dollies.”

“He is, isn’t he?” You chuckle softly, “But he’ll grow up to be big and strong, just like you.”

Your wife sets Esme down next to Remi, “What do you think, Essie Bear?” She asks, the two girls staring at their new little brother, your 3 year old in that moment reaching out to poke Archie’s cheek gently, “Gentle, Essie,” She reminds her with a smile, pulling Esme’s hand back just a bit.

Your baby boy just lets out a soft sigh but still remains asleep. At least you know it won’t be so much a problem to sleep in a noisy household with 2 older sisters.

“He likes it, Mummy,” Esme declares confidently, trying to reach out and poke him again.

“We have to be gentle with him, Es. He’s only little,” You tell her softly.

Remi glances up at Leah, “Mummy, will he like Arsenal, like you do?” She asks, curiously.

“I mean I hope so, but if not then that’s okay too,” Leah answers honestly, “Just as long as he doesn’t follow uncle Jacob and support Spurs.” She jokes.

“Of course you just had to get in there, didn’t you?” You laugh, shaking your head in amusement.

“What? We’re a family full of Gooners,” Your wife shrugs her shoulders and sticks her tongue out playfully, “Just as long as all 3 of our kids are happy then that’s all that matters to me.”

“That is what matters the most,” You agree, feeling the warmth of this very moment as you lean back against the pillow with a content sigh, “But I have a feeling that little man might very well support you before we know it.”

Leah grins, her eyes twinkling with mischief, “Oh he’ll be a little Gooner, alright. I’ll make sure of it.” She says, determined.

“Can I hold him, Mumma? Please?” Remi leans in closer, looking at you with those big, hopeful eyes.

You glance at Leah, who nods with a smile, “Okay, Remi Roo, but you have to sit down and be very still, okay?” You instruct gently.

Remi eagers nods and hops onto the chair beside the bed, her little legs dangling off the edge as she waits in anticipation to hold your son. Your wife gently lifts Archie from your chest, cradling his tiny body with expert hands, and then slowly places him into Remi’s waiting arms.

“Hi, Archie,” Your eldest daughter’s face lights up with pure delight, her grin stretching from ear to ear as she cradles her baby brother with such tender care in the world, “I’m Remi, I’m your big sister and I love you lots!” she whispers, her voice filled with awe.

“He loves you lots too, Remi Roo,” You whisper back, watching the moment with your heart swelling with pride and love at the sight of your three children together. You are glad that your wife is able to capture this perfect moment on her camera.

“My turn next!” Esme declares, standing on her tiptoes, trying to peek over Remi’s shoulder, “My turn!” She repeats, a little too loud as your wife quickly hushes her with a finger to her lips.

“Soon, Essie Bear,” Leah promises, brushing a hand through Esme’s curly hair, “Remi’s just having a cuddle first, see?”

Esme nods eagerly, her face scrunched up in concentration as she watches her sister carefully, “Okay, I wait,” She whispers, “He’s cute, Mummy.”

“He is, isn’t he?” Your wife agrees, leaning down to kiss the top of Esme’s head, “He looks just like you when you were born as well. Tiny and perfect.”

As you watch your three children, you can’t feel a time where you felt more happier than being surrounded by your small family you’ve created with your wife.

Because despite the ups and downs in life, the unpredictability and the chaos that life sometimes brings, you wouldn’t change a thing.

© scribblesofagoonerr

[mooner3]

Music Band AU Bishops

Leshy was the youngest member of the old band but, he left the band,too. After, Narinder quit. He form a new band called “Forest Chaos.” He still calls himself “The Green Crown.” He sometimes sings with his other three siblings to keep a connection with them. Despite what happened in the past, he still tried to keep up the happy, lovable, party-animal, sweetheart. He likes to make an effort to connection with his fans. He even likes to visit big national charity events to show his support. On the outside, he always had fun; going out with his band mates, dating hot people, buying all the cool tech and games. Yet on the inside, he cried himself to sleep; when he is alone, he remembers the tragic events of the old band and his old life. That’s why he always hosts a lot of parties in his house. So he could never be alone with his dark thoughts and memories. Nevertheless, his struggles wouldn’t stop him from competing in the world best band competition.

Heket was the second eldest of the old band. Yet, when Narinder quit, she decided to go on her own. She was just done with her family drama and needed a fresh start. After starting a new band of her own, she gain more popularity and fame. Especially in the beauty industry. She made a lot of plus-sized women feel good about themselves and that helped with her reputation. She sometimes had special performances with her three other siblings. She would never dare mention Narinde’s name ever since that day. She hated him for all that happened and it haunts her every single night. So she purposely runs open kitchens to feed the homeless just to keep her mind off of things. Of course when she’s on stage, she is proud and say what the world needed to hear but, when she is off stage, she stayed silent. Refused to talk to anyone.

Kallamar the second youngest of the old band was mentally scarred from the events of Narinder quitting and decided to take a break from music then a few years later he began singing again in his own band. He showered himself with jewelry and fashion. He likes to make dramatic entrances on stage and show off his bling. Yet, when the curtains closed, he more calm and cautious with the paparazzi. He does have a soft spot for the sick patients kids in the hospitals. So he would sometimes make time in his busy schedule to give them a visit and give them a free private performance. Not only would it make the sick kids happy but, it also helps keep the dark memories of the past in the old days. Especially the day Narinder quit.

Shamura was the eldest of the old band. They used to take charge of everything and did what they could to make sure they all had a perfect and happy life but, then things took a turn. Narinder was mad at them and quit the band. Then one by one their other siblings left. “The Five Crowns” were no more. Shamura fell into depression and didn’t want to see anyone for a while. Then one day, Shamura returned to the stage with a new band of their own. They made a great comeback and regained their confidence and fame. They even became a drag queen as well. When in public, they are happy and often interact with their fans and show support to the orphanages and foster care as they had a soft side for kids. When in private, though, they often looked at old photos of their younger siblings; thinking about the good old days and what it could have been. They sometimes cry themselves to sleep; wishing all five of them would be a family again.

[thisismeracing]

https://www.tumblr.com/thisismeracing/736462766873919488/bonoreader-head-canons-cont-for-real-this?source=share

bono!reader head-canons (pt. 3)

even though bon is not biologically related to anyone in the paddock other than her dad, a lot of them see her as their kid because she really is. i think it’s hard not to grow attached to someone who is there, at your place of work, day in day out starting when that person is 5 years old. it also helps that said 5 year old is a little sponge for the work you do and is genuinely interested in it and can get so wrapped up in it but also still needs help tying her shoe laces. there was just this want to help raise this kid into the best possible version of themselves and if it took a small army to do so then so be it

other than english bon speaks: spanish (from nando), german (from toto, niki, michael,seb, etc.), finnish (from mostly kimi but a bit from val as well), italian (from toto, niki, and michael), and french (from toto as well) girl is multilingual and sometimes when she was very small her head got confused with all the languages and would start speaking in a different language each time she responded to what you said to her. because she could comprehend what she was hearing, but the wires in her brain just got a little mixed up

i think there is exactly one photo of max, mick, and bon all as babies and they all dont remember it but all the people around them see it and go “oh yeah! you did all meet that one time at that one race”

bon used to do work in bed. laptop set on her thighs or on the mattress in front of her, calculator somewhere in between the sheets, and a countless amount of work papers and documents strewn about. it’s a bad habit she developed over the years and knows it's bad but has never gotten around to breaking. that is until mick is over one day and he goes to get into the opposite side of the bed than she has gotten into and when he lays down he is met with an odd feeling at his back and when he investigates it’s her calculator. and before he can ask why it’s in her bed at all his eyes fall on her work laptop that is sitting in the gap between her pillows. at this point he has put two and two together and asks if she works in her bed and she sheepishly goes “maybeeeeeee” and god that look on her face is so cute so he pulls her into his space after removing the work related items and says “you may be cute but we are talking about this later” and then they continue their cuddle sesh with sweet nothings and stolen kisses until they fall asleep

[including this lil hc that i sent to you on email] bon has a teal ti-84 for work purposes and it’s always on her person and it’s a running gag amongst fans to grab screenshots of when it makes an appearance on camera and post it to their fan pages dedicated to her calculator of all things

susie taught her how to do makeup

painted a lot of peoples nails when she was younger, didn’t matter who you were. if you were around this girl when she was painting her own nails then you would somehow be sat across from her after trying your best to get out of the situation. (imagine toto with teal glittery nail polish just imagine)

loves to drape her arms around mick from the back and to kiss his head while having him in her arms

buys platform shoes on accident all the time. she pays attention to the design more than anything so when she wears them out she’s closer to toto’s 6’5” than before and in comparison her boys (her dad and mick) are just standing there 🧍🧍in their not tall statures

more of a mick hc than a bon hc but, mick’s wec and f1 helmets after they get together include a little something incorporated into the design of the helmet that reminds him and symbolizes bon [feel free to share any ideas on what it could be with me cause i cant really think of anything rn]

prefers to be the one driving when going somewhere and this extends to when traveling somewhere, by car, with mick. like this boy has tried to drive for his girl but she just wont let him so he’s just accepted his passenger princess fate

[i would just like to let you know this breached the a second page on google docs and that is how i knew where to end it]

☕️

Prev link

I love the fact that she grew around everyone because thats exactly as the saying goes: it takes a village to raise a child. it took the biggest village ever (aka f1 crew) to raise bono baby.

the fan page to the calculator loool this is something that I can totally see happening

I think for the helmet he would totally include a small calculator or even a cute draw of a sticker (to remind of when she was a kid and used to put them on everyones car), or a secret reference when theyre not public yet, maybe a doodle of something because she would totally doodle random cute stuff on some of the papers sometimes when shes distracted, and maybe she doodled a heart or a small cat, so mick will have this cat on his helmet.

[starrypawz]

If it isn't too sore of a subject, I would love to see / hear more about Barney, he is such a handsome guy ❤

If so, what is something you are working on / thinking about working on right now that you enjoy?

So I unintentionally left this ask sitting here for a long time.

But this is Barney, some of you may remember him.

We adopted him at four months old from an independent animal rescue, he apparently was a pedigree but they wouldn't let us have his papers, story goes he was an unwanted wedding present from a husband to his second wife.

He actually shared my birthday (June 15th) and he made it to around... 14/15 years old I think we adopted him in like 2004/2005. He passed in early 2020 not long before the first lockdowns kicked in which was... weirdly well timed in it's own way.

As it turns out if you adopt a 4 month old puppy you are going to get thrown right into the 'second developmental period' aka 'oh no my dog is being a little shit all of a sudden send help', he was a bitey puppy and still was prone to being bitey throughout his life (mostly on objects thanfully) he managed to bite through several dog leads during this time. He turned out ok even though in hindsight I don't think anyone in my family really knew what we were doing because we'd never owned a dog before and there's stuff I would do differently if I ever own a dog again.

We also got thrown in the deep end and had to take him to the very within the first few days of taking him home as it turns out the rescue sent us home with the wrong food and westies have... sensitive stomachs. Didn't stop him from trying to eat everything however.

There's still chew marks on our living room door frame from him and probably a few of our chairs. He loved soccer/footballs but hated wheeled suitcases. He'd chase squirrels, stalk pigeons and sometimes try and chase rabbits, actually liked cats (at one point he actually had a friend in a local cat) but was terrified of sheep (once there was some local art stuff going on in town, someone put sheep in the church yard, he was not a fan, he would ever since that daytry and run in the other direction if he heard them bleat). He thought he was a lot bigger than he was and had several staffies he was the boss of and at least a couple of rottweilers, he did not like bulldogs very much (I think the wheezing freaked him out) and had beef with border terriers for a long time due to a particularly mean one down park, he had an eternal rival in a basset hound who lived over the road who didn't like him very much, one of his best friends was a mini schnauzer named Odo. He loved carrots, apples and cheese. He loved to swim but was not the biggest fan of a bath and was suspicious of the fountain in our high street.

For a little dog he had a VERY loud bark. He was a very good guard dog really but not the best thing when you live in semi-detached housing with thin walls.

He couldn't be trusted with tennis balls as he would rip them apart and then try and eat them, he loved those pig squeaky toys but would destroy them. Never give a westie anything with stuffing in it.

One year for Christmas I received a giant teddybear and Barney's reaction was to go 'Oh this would make a good dog bed' . Once we had to keep him clean for an entire week after a groomer visit as he was booked in for some professional dog photos at a local petstore, and yes once those were done he did get himself very muddy. He'd look white until snow showed up. His first response to snow was to think 'Can I eat this?' Once my parents were walking him in some woodlands and nearly lost him because he decided to chase after a herd of deer. He jumped in a lake once and sunk and when he came up he was green.

He was a grumpy old man from the start really, but he was also a very good boy.

[laf-outloud]

//It was so bad this time that even Jensen looked embarrassed both times his fans went over-the-top. I would hope that those same fans would watch the video afterwards and realize how stalkerish they sound and see that Jensen is not impressed or flattered - more like creeped out. [X]//

Yea, don't waste that hope lol. The person who asked the question all but bragged about it on twitter. And you will NOT be surprised to see who it was:

https://twitter.com/JensensGroupie/status/1622635290991927298

So the question. After I caught my breath after seeing my name on the list, right side, Leslie lastimosa, g12... I said Hi Jensen and he said hi. I told him I loved and worship him. He said don't worship me. I said too late. Then I said, so like last month you said in Another Con that you had just signed a new deal and that there would be a press release "soon". So what exactly is your definition of soon bc we're dying out here. That went on the moving the needle thing. And at the end as I was walking back to my seat one of them I think JP said well that was a adventure. And I'm like baby you don't know the half of it 😜

This person is such an insane AA. There are so many tweets of hers I've seen people send to blogs like its-sassyboots, or neecy. She is vitriolically anti-Jared too (shocker I know....). I would say take a scroll through her twitter but I really can't advise that if you have more than one brain cell. And she puts her face right out there on main:

https://twitter.com/JensensGroupie/status/1623104299726241793

(side note, this photo op recap from her is HILARIOUS, like she thinks Jensen was just excited to stare into her eyes LMAO)

Oh, it's that lady! I remember her from this tweet:

There's so much to unpack. First of all, what's she doing putting her full name out there? They cover that in Internet Safety 101! (Although, I imagine anyone who contacts her will quickly be repelled by her constant babbling about Jensen).

And listen, I'll be the first one to say there's no age limit to being a fan of someone, but there is most definitely an age limit to being this utterly obsessed with a celebrity. And 53 is WAY too old for this. (Any age is too old for parasocializing, but especially if you're a grown-ass adult).

I know I sometimes call AAs and Hellers delusional, but I'm being completely serious when I say this woman is in desperate need of help. It seems she's built her entire world around worshipping Jensen and in all likelihood, is unable to cultivate real-world relationships that could help fill whatever gaps exist in her life that she's currently using Jensen to fill.

She's displaying very similar symptoms of fans whose obsessions go horribly wrong. I don't think she's quite there yet, but she's well on her way and I pray that she can get the help she so desperately needs before it gets that far.

[letapollojusticesayfuck]

fic masterlist (Nov. 6, 2022)

A collection of links and descriptions for my Ace Attorney fanfics are found below--though you could always just visit my AO3 profile and browse them that way!

stop the presses scoop of the century (read all about it) | event of the decade (extra, extra!)

Apollo Justice writes tabloid articles to help pay his law school tuition. Thanks to the wild world of Internet virality, this leads to him starting a relationship with Klavier Gavin, famed rockstar prosecutor

smile for the camera (and keep your fingers crossed)

After a photo of Klavier and Apollo sharing dinner winds up as front-page news, the whole world obviously assumes they're dating. Correcting them seems like it wouldn't be a big deal, except that for the first time since the breakup of the Gavinners, people are paying attention to Klavier's music, and Apollo feels like he's gotta at least do something nice for the guy after he kind of indirectly ruined his life, right? Anyway, it's not like he's going to do anything as cliché as falling for him for real.

thank you for the music (for giving it to me)

Apollo's the first to admit that he's not a Gavinners fan. So why did he agree to accompany Klavier to the premiere of Broadway's latest musical, a play whose plot is based entirely around the band's discography? As the performance unfolds, however, both Klavier and Apollo come to realize that the writers have borrowed more than just Klavier's songs--they've based the story on aspects of the lawyers' real lives, too. Except--hang on, did the two protagonists just kiss?

fame vs infamy (the price of writing fanfic out of spite)

In which Apollo Justice becomes the most popular fic-writer in the Gavinners fandom. (and, along the way, realizes his Big Gay Crush on Klavier Gavin might not be as hopeless as he thought)

perspective

Klavier Gavin, through the years. (an introspective look at the man behind the rockstar façade)

keeping all your hopes alive

After their chance to prove themselves as competent detectives with a big break in an important case goes south, Kay finds her partner Ema drowning her sorrows in their shared office. They have a heart-to-heart--which ends with Ema crashing on Kay's couch (and the acknowledgement of some inconvenient shared feelings between them).

undeniable you (the currents pulling me onward)

Kristoph Gavin is found dead in his prison cell, and Klavier Gavin is the prime suspect. With nobody else available to defend him, Apollo Justice flies in from Khura'in to take the case--but during the course of the trial and its aftermath, long-hidden secrets come to light.

love at first sight (and other common misconceptions)

Klavier's always been certain that when he runs into the person he's going to fall in love with, he'll just know. Apollo believes the exact opposite--that you can't fall in love with someone without getting to know them first. After a bit of convincing, Klavier's starting to see Apollo's point.

let's get old and boring

five times Klavier considers proposing to Apollo, and the one time Apollo gets tired of waiting

Klavier and Apollo Get Scurvy

Klavier and Apollo make a bet to see who can spend the least money in a month on daily essentials. Too bad that in their pursuit of victory, neither one of them remember that fruits and vegetables are kind of important.

Musically Inclined

Sometimes, you've just gotta sing showtunes at the top of your lungs when nobody's around, you know? (Otherwise known as: 5 times Apollo walked in on Klavier singing songs from musicals, and 1 time the opposite scenario happened)

dubiously legal date ideas

Kay Faraday wants to brag about the cool date she and Ema went on--unfortunately, Klavier Gavin doesn't see the romance in breaking and entering.

funeral march

In the aftermath of Lana Skye's trial and the toppling of Damon Gant, Phoenix goes to look for Miles. Their ensuing conversation is perhaps more revealing than he realizes at the time.

shameful

Apollo's just trying to investigate the month's latest crime scene--it's not his fault Klavier keeps being strangely helpful for a rival prosecutor, not to mention distractingly attractive. Ema Skye, however, just wants to be able to present her newly-discovered decisive evidence without having to deal with copious amounts of flirting.

flying cars, smuggling rings, and other futuristic things

Ema's trying to deal with the paperwork from her most recent case--however, Kay's more interested in her thoughts about what the future's going to look like.

morning revelations (to sleep beside you from now on)

It’s not until he sees Klavier beside him, golden hair strewn over the pillow like some sort of Renaissance heroine, that Apollo Justice realizes he’s in love. Apollo wakes up next to Klavier and has to come to terms with his feelings for the prosecutor.

lyrical clarity (knocking some sense into you)

Apollo doesn't pay attention to who's part of his favorite bands--he just appreciates the music as-is. Of course, this means that he's entirely caught off-guard when it turns out that the lead singer of his favorite group is none other than Klavier Gavin. Naturally, he goes to confront Klavier, only to find that there's still more truths to uncover--and a lot that they've still got to talk about.

lonely luxury

After Kristoph's execution, Klavier finds himself alone with his thoughts--until Apollo shows up to remind him he's got people he can rely on for emotional support.

wednesday, 1:22 pm

Ema and Kay take a moment out of their busy schedules to catch up for coffee. (advocating for prosecutors getting bullied is definitely typical date conversation, what do you mean?)

still living (celebrate this new beginning)

Immediately following the untangling of the truth behind DL-6, Miles Edgeworth seeks solace alone in an empty courtroom. However, Phoenix Wright is nothing but a persistent friend.

grave misunderstandings

Apollo Justice has been alive for three hundred and sixteen years, but in all that time, he has never met anyone quite like Klavier Gavin. ...okay, perhaps alive isn’t quite the correct term to use here. Apollo has only been alive for twenty-three of the years he has existed; for the remaining two hundred and ninety-three, it’s more accurate to say he’s been undead. Or: Apollo thinks Klavier's human. Klavier thinks Apollo's human. They're both wrong.

the best-laid plans

Klavier Gavin has planned the perfect proposal--dramatic enough to fulfill his love of Grand Romantic Gestures, yet simple enough to meet Apollo's more straightforward nature. All he has to do is not mess up the decorations! Apollo Justice just wants to know how his boyfriend ended up tangled in several meters of blue fabric.

sweet distractions (M-rated)

Klavier and Apollo grab some frozen treats one summer afternoon in People Park. Unfortunately for Apollo, watching Klavier eat his ice pop is pretty distracting, and doesn't seem to be doing anything to help with the heat.

in effigy (E-rated)

Apollo discovers some scandalous Gavinners merchandise in Klavier's closet. Klavier, having no shame, decides that this is an excellent opportunity to have some fun with it. or, The One With The Official Gavinners Dildos

demo tracks and instrumentals

Klavier, Apollo, and the multitudes of ways in which they find themselves drawn to each other (a collection of drabbles written in response to tumblr prompts and asks)