#I gotta learn to let shit go eventually

[kittlyns]

Finally got brave enough to try on one pair of my dangly earrings!!

[peanutheaddd]

NEW PEANOR AU YYYYAAAAYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! dm DIVINE LIBERATION AU!!!!!!!!! deets below cut as always

im gonna preface by saying idk anything about the christianity lore and im not all too interested in learning it either. i was a christian for much of the early years of my life and i dont care much to go back to that era LMFAO most of this au is js using christian imagery bc the christians lwk ate so hard w their religious imagery . neon genesis evangelion type beat . anwyays moving on.

a bit obvious but i gotta start my lore dump somewhere. dm is a priest in this au and petey is a demon

petey is a fallen angel . as in he was born an angel but he was expelled from heaven

in this au there is corruption in the heaven and hell system . god is dead type beat. but not rlly . maybe dormant? maybe god has lost faith in humankind and has gone into hibernation? god cannot exist without faith smth smth Aaanyways.

that being said petey only got expelled from heaven for reasons almost entirely out of his control. he is still graces son and im thinking grace got involved in some anti heaven stuff bc yk heavens system was becoming more and more fucked up . so i reckon when they found out they executed her and as they were in the process of executing her petey tried to protect her but obvs he couldnt be he was a kid. so they executed her and expelled petey for being a traitor . this all happens when peteys like the human equivalent of 12-14 years old maturity wise

anwyays that being said lil petey is an angel. considering when petey was his age he was still an angel . i will go more into lp later

petey is sorta in denial about falling at first bc hes scared but eventually he just leans into the demon thing bc he feels helpless (parallel to canon petey) and just causes a shit ton of trouble. his causing trouble is a way of protecting himself Essentially

eventually he causes a little Too much trouble and he gets turned into a powerless imp by the higher up demons . hes doomed to stay in that form unless hes able to corrupt a priest whos been causing a lot of trouble for the demons . Guess who this priest is.

dms accident with knight still happened (probs happened as a result of one of peteys Funny Doings but not as a direct result.) and dm copes with it by seeing it as a holy act of salvation or wahtnot. like he was saved by gods blessing and by knights sacrifice. half of this is bullshit since as i said god is in a hibernation state. so it was really just All knight. but anyways

knight was a priest before this and its the only life that dms ever known so he kinda just continues with it . he is lwk a better priest than knight was (he got a lot of secondhand religious education just from being around knight so much and hes smarter than knight) so the church just lets him take knights place essentially.

dm is just more calm and collected in this au as well . he found out pretty early on that him being too energetic got knight into trouble which made him sad so he learned to control himself a bit . there was also the threat of him being taken away from knight if he acted out too much which was the worst case scenario for him so , yeah another incentive to behave himself .

anwysays a lot of petey and dms interactions initially are pretty lighthearted . book1 and 2 core. its js petey annoying the hell out of him and dm trying to ignore him LMFAOOOOO this is how petey gets the genius idea to try and summon a clone so he can be more effective in bothering dm . this is how lil petey is created LMFAAOAOOOOO

for this au peteys denial about being related to lp in any way shape or form is waaaayyy worse bc he still has a Lot of trauma from when he was in his angelic state . and he doesnt wanna associate with angels or heaven in any capacity . so even looking at lp is hard for him.

peteys still able to go into his full demon state, but only for brief periods of time . its also super physically taxing so he has to be really careful about it or else he could abruptly change back into his imp form when hes in the middle of danger

eventually petey "corrupts" dm as in dm just acts like a Human (this is also a criticism on the inhumane standards placed on people and how oftentimes humans are shamed for acting like Humans because theyre being held to some holy standard for the promise of a perfect afterlife . using christianity as a proxy for this since christianity is the shining example of doing this a lot) . im thinking its him going against an angel or holy figure to protect petey and/or lil petey

im thinking the overarching plot of this story is intimately tied to lil petey. the plot starts off with petey trying to corrupt lil petey and turn him into a demon so that he can have a little minion .

this attempt to corrupt lp continues even after petey starts to see him more as his son because then hes like well if im a demon then my son should also be a demon . hes also starting to get scsred of what heaven might do if they find out about him . bc as far as peteys aware once heaven gets wind of lil peteys existence theyd either execute him for being an anomoly or just take him away to raise him in heaven since hes an angel. both scenarios are likely (knowing heaven) and its also literlaly the worst thing that could possibly happen. so he slike okay if i just turn lp into a demon then theres no reason for heaven to take him away .

((semi unrelated but this is a parallel to canon to me. this is js my personal headcanon but i think peteys so obsessed eith having lil petey turn out evil in the earlier parts of the series because for him acting evil was a self defense tactic. its a way to protect himself. so by having lil petey act evil hes essentially teaching him how to protect himself in the only way he knows how . when he was rejected by the world and left all alone he was able to stay alive by being a criminal. and past the nonchalant "u have to be evil just because" facade i truly do think it was . again petey subconsciously teaching lp to protect himself in the way that protected HIM from the world. so yeah ))

i think petey probs doesnt tell dm about any of this because dm is a priest . petey fully believes that if dm finds out about lil petey being his son and thus being technically disconnected from the heaven system he would try to alert heaven about it through some mortal means . so for a lot of the earlier parts of the plot dm thinks that lp is a little angel who just kinda comes down to earth from time to time . hes totally unaware that he and petey are related . yes they look almost the same but an angel and a demon being related is totally unprecedented . so he doesnt even consider it

petey also makes sure that lil petey keeps his mouth shut about them being related by telling him that if dm ever finds out that hes his dad then he might never see him again .

but what petey fails to realize is that dms loyalty doesnt lie with the church . it lies with knight . his loyalty is far removed from any kind of institution . so when he evtnually does find out (i reckon through some way out of peteys control) and petey basicaly begs him not to tell heaven because of systematic issues and the possibility of lp getting executed dm immediately agrees. at this point hes close enough to lp and petey by extension that hes willing to forgo his loyalty to the church which only really existed because of knight in the first place . everything he had done religion wise up until this point was bc of knight . so if hes asked to choose between what knight might have wanted vs the real tangible being that is begging him not to tell heaven then he is going to choose the real tangible being . thats his family dawg.

essentially for dm the real living thing happenign in his world is infinitely more important than the moral system that hes been taught .

plot basically then goes to heaven finding out and sending angels to try and find lp as petey and dm get up to shenanigans to hide him . i reckon hell also gets involved in it . heaven and hell are "opposites" but theyre hand in hand when it comes to their shit polarized system . and lil petey as an angel being petey the demons son goes against this system and undermines their power . so both heaven and hell arent all too happy about it .

the climax is the event where dm is "corrupted" like i mentioned above . i reckon this is the event that brings god out of hibernation . smth smth free will smth smth complete and total rejection of heaven by one of its servants for a holy purpose smth smth . you feel me ? and i reckon the angels are abt to finish them off or smth and god is like HEY. STOP THAT. 👎👎👎👎

petey does not become an angel again at the end of the plot. dm does not become an angel or a demon or anything like that . he just stays a mortal being. and he still stays loyal to religion in knights memory despite being friendly with a demon, despite defying the church for said demon. the whole point is that this polarization of identity bullshit is stupid when humanity is so diverse . theres nuance snd complexity and its literlaly impossible to categorize people into discrete identities. thats not how it works

i reckon dm doesnt stay a priest just because that would require adhering to their standards which dm does not fuck with . so he probs just goes and finds some other job while staying religious. smth smth religion is not inherently evil its only the way that its used by hateful people

holy fuck this might be one of the longest lore dumps ive ever done about an au. god bles. LMFAOOOOOOOOO

[2tarbell]

KOOK!READER and BSF!RAFE who enjoy getting high together, either by a joint or using her pink girly bong (that she takes pictures of him using and says she’s gonna blackmail him. rafe doesn’t laugh at that). she only ever smokes with rafe, what he has. and they’re laughing… usually; lingering touches seeming even longer and eyes darting over each others faces. taking in four red eyes and two dazed smiles.

but sometimes it’s almost completely silent. any outsider would think they’re mad at each other but it’s actually quiet admiration. studying each other so intensely and longingly that eventually they do start heating up. she mumbles snide remarks about that one bartender that was ogling him the other day — and rafe smirks. he finds it funny.

kook!reader is only pissed off more and begins spinning tales of encounters blown up and out of proportion, all to irritate rafe. she bounces around from kook to kook, but know she’s hit a nerve when his eye twitches at the mention of escapades with a certain blond pogue — maybank. she’ll be damned if rafe doesn’t get a taste of his own medicine.

now, there’s a certain power play involved in their fucked up relationship. and with this blatant disrespect and gall to even joke about jj, rafe was seething. she was his best friend. she was his to fuck. his, his, his. so he’s wrapping a hand around her throat and tugging her towards him roughly, leaving her to scramble forward into his lap. rafe’s eyes were stone and she felt a chill looking into them, maybe that had something to do with the sudden dampness and warmth in her VS thong. the joint fallen out of her hand and onto the floor beside them.

“you—” a incredulous scoff falls from his lips, “—you gotta learn when to shut the fuck up, yeah? this loud mouth s’gonna getchu in some reeeeal trouble, baby.”

shaking her back and forth with his grip on her neck, the pressure just enough to send her eyes fluttering. rafe tuts and snakes a hand down her torso into her yoga pants. the arousal clinging to her puffy folds makes him let out a hum of amusement. rafe swirls his fingers aimlessly, not caring if he’s actually hitting her most sensitive spot — just feeling what’s his. the bumping of his fingertips every other figure eight against her swollen clit creates a repeating whine in her throat. the sound starts low and vibrates through her nose.

“nnngh— ra— ahfe—“

that broken whimper of his name is electrifying. it’s all so pitiful and embarrassing and rafe’s favorite version of her.

the slick sound turns into a squelch as he dips two fingers into her awaiting hole. she’s high and the pleasure feels like it’s increased tenfold with each second his digits disappear into her. she all but melts, sinking down until he’s knuckle deep. rafe grins at the already fucked out look on her pretty face. what a dumb girl. kook!reader snaps open her eyes when she realizes he isn’t immediately curling his fingers like he always does. her furrow brow meets his shit eating smirk, a whine being revved up but silenced by his words and the rough way he shoves down the clothes restricting her bottom half.

“nah — y’gonna bounce on these fuckin’ fingers till i say stop, a’ight? and— and why don’tchu tell me more about maybank while you’re at it. go on, bunny. hop.”

[passionxwrites]

Summer Romance 2

Pairings: ModernAU! Elias “Stack” Moore x BlackOC! (Cymone) x ModernAU! Elijah “Smoke” Moore

Warnings: MDNI, Cursing, use of the N-Word, Suggestive language, some flirting

Word Count: 4.0K

Masterlist

Smoke

Bookbag got the big pump

Like high school, you can get jumped

Can’t play me like a weak punk

Bend it over lemme see some

Bitch I’m a monsta, dumpin niggas like a Tonka

GD crazy like my uncle

“And you know what, we shoulda known Punkin was gone have all that body. Her mama had ass too.”

Smoke was snatched from his thoughts due to Stacks dumbass rambling yet again. He hadn’t shut up since the party at the park last week. Granted Smoke was just as in awe as him but damn she wasn’t the only thing on his mind.

She was on his mind though.

He had bigger fish to fry since they had finally bought back the house they grew up in and had officially settled back into being home. Now it was time to take over the city like they always grew up dreaming about.

“Whatever happened to her mama anyway,” Stack asked absentmindedly.

“Last I heard she was on that shit and wouldn’t get clean. Probably somewhere still on it,” Smoke finally answered as he observed his twin in the mirror.

“Make my shit straight bitch ass nigga,” he said to Stack with a smirk as his brother began lining him up.

Stack had always been the twin that was big on appearances so he was the one who learned how to cut their hair after they moved. He also bought most of they clothes cause if Smoke was left alone to get his own shit he would wear white tees and jeans everyday.

“I should make that shit crooked on purpose since you wanna play.”

Smoke let out a low chuckle before the music paused and the sound of buzzing filled the room. His eyes located Stacks phone on the sink counter.

Mary

“Uh oh, it’s the single white female,” Smoke said with a light chuckle knowing it would piss his brother off.

“Shut the fuck up damn,” Stack muttered with an attitude as he snatched his phone from the sink and ignored the call.

“I told you to leave that bitch alone but you wouldn’t listen. Now she obsessed with you.”

“She need to be obsessed with her damn husband and leave me alone. She don’t even live out here no more. Heard he moved her ass to a big ass house in Madison.”

“Gotta stop hitting that button with every woman you lay with potna.”

“Nigga please. I always gotta hit the button,” he said as he proceeded to finish cutting Smoke's hair like what he said was normal.

Smoke only shook his head as he looked at the reflection of him and Stack in the bathroom mirror. Since he was the oldest he always grew up trying to protect Stack whether it was from they own daddy or from niggas in the neighborhood. The problem was Stack could never shut the fuck up for his own good sometimes. He was always running off at the mouth to any and everybody and although now he was old enough to protect himself and could, Smoke was gone always be there ten toes behind him.

“Let’s hurry this shit up so we can meet up with Duke and Boom.”

They had finally found a spot downtown to put their club in and they had a meeting with the old owner to read over the contracts and sign on the dotted line. It was this building that sat smack dab in the middle of the city. It used to be a sawmill way back in the day in the 1930s and it was owned by some white folks. The twins not only wanted the place because of the good business they would get but also because they wanted to be the first black owners of the place. With the help of their childhood homeboy Lawrence “Boom” Jenkins, who was also their lawyer, they knew the building was basically theirs.

“Aight nigga damn. You always rushing sibling bonding time.”

“We can do that shit later. We got business to handle first and after that we need to go by Miss Etta Jean’s and take a look at her dishwasher.”

Stack continued to huff and puff but he eventually finished up Smoke’s cut and they both got dressed and headed over to the sawmill. Once they got there they saw Boom and Duke already standing outside talking.

“How yall boys doin,” Smoke spoke in greeting as he dapped both of the men up.

“Shittt, ready to get this place so we can get this crackin ya feel me,” Duke spoke as he rubbed his hands together in anticipation.

“Yeah, where this man at cause I’m on a tight schedule today,” Boom said while looking at his watch.

“There he go right there.”

The group of men looked up as a sleek all black Mercedes Benz S 580 pulled into the parking lot. Once the car came to a stop none other than Porter Keyes stepped out. Porter was your everyday preppy white boy who grew up with a silver spoon in his mouth from a fortune that was more than likely built off the backs of slaves. The sawmill had been in his family for centuries yet they hadn’t done a damn thing with it. They were instead too busy building up the whiter parts of Mississippi. When Smoke reached out to him about buying the building Porter all but jumped at the opportunity to finally have it off his hands.

The white man eagerly exited the car with his own lawyer in tow, a stuffy looking older white man, and walked up to the four men with a smile etched across his face.

“Gentleman, let’s make some history shall we,” he spoke as he beckoned the group on to go unlock the door.

They entered the building and Smoke walked around as he began picturing the place filled with bodies on the dance floor, people buying drinks and folks just having a good time. This place was everything he could have dreamed of.

“So! Here I have the title and the deed to the building as well as the contract,” shot out Porter as his lawyer pulled all of the documents from his briefcase and handed them to Boom to read over. After about 30 minutes of Boom thoroughly reading the contract and making sure the deed and the title were legit he gave a nod to the twins.

“Let’s sign,” Smoke spoke simply as he grabbed a pen from the table they were all standing around. Him, Stack, and Porter all signed solidifying the deal.

“I can’t thank you guys for finally taking this place off my hands.”

“Nah thank you bruh and don’t worry, we gone take real good care of this place,” Stack said with his signature grin as he wrapped an arm around his brother.

“What y’all plan to do with this old gal if you don’t mind me asking,” Porter inquired as he slid his shades back onto his face.

“We gone make this here a club. Calling it Club Juke after the Juke Joint our grandaddy owned way back,” Smoke said with a lil pride in his chest. His granddaddy was a true business man. Somebody to really look up to and be proud of. The twins had always idolized the man, taking every step they could to be just like him and they had just about done it.

“Hm, a club. Well I hope it works out for you fellas. Any questions just give me a ring,” and with that Porter and his lawyer were out of the door leaving the twins, Boom, and Duke.

“Mannn I’m so excited for this shit here ju. I can picture opening night already! It’s gone be so many bad bitches in here and you know with bad bitches gone come all the niggas wanting to spend some change. This gone be a gold mine,” Duke said excitedly as he all but bounced off the walls.

“We need niggas to spend more than change to make a profit. Before all that we need to get a liquor license, cooks for the chicken, and some employees. You still gone have your boys on security?”

“Yeah I done already prepped em on what they have to do. They just waiting on the word.”

“Good, good. Everything go right and we’ll be in business in about three weeks,” Smoke said as he looked down at his phone to check the time.

“Shit, we need to get over by your grandma. I promised her we would look at her dishwasher since your simple ass broke it.”

Duke immediately huffed at Smoke with a roll of his eyes.

“I told her I aint know nothing bout fixing no dishwasher anyway. I sell drugs I aint no damn handyman,” Duke complained as he stuffed his hands in his pockets.

“Damn shame. Them D.A.R.E niggas would be real disappointed in yo ass. You was they favorite student back in the day,” Stack spoke as he shook his head causing the room to erupt in laughter.

Cymone

Cymone sat upright in her bed as she focused on the tedious task of painting her toenails white. Her favorite nail tech down at the shop was out sick til the next week and she refused to let anybody else touch her feet or hands so she had to lock in and do it herself. Just as she had finished and begun to let them dry the doorbell rang making her cuss under her breath.

“Somebody always coming round here at the wrong time man,” the girl fussed as she waddled down the stairs and to the front door. She looked at the alarm camera that sat on the table next to it and rolled her eyes.

“Of course it’s tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum,” she mumbled while unlocking the door and coming face to face with her two nightmares.

“I heard that shit. Yo ass never could whisper,” Stack said with that same grin on his face. A part of her wanted to slap it off his face but Stack liked to wrestle and she wasn't in the mood for all that.

“Whatever nigga. What y’all want and no we are not donating to the Broke Ass Nigga Fund.”

“Glad it aint no broke ass niggas round here. Yo grandma asked for us to come take a look at her dishwasher. Said it’s leaking water,” Smoke finally spoke up from behind his brother. She put her eyes on him which made her notice they both had recently got a haircut.

They look aight but I’ll never tell em that.

Cymone stayed propped against the door frame as she observed them through the screen door before finally letting them in. They weren’t lying because the dishwasher had been broken for about a month now and it had gotten worse after Duke called himself looking at it two weeks ago. She also knew Ganny had probably asked the twins to take a look because they would always fix on stuff around the house before they left. Cymone was also tired of being the dishwasher so if they could fix it she had no problems with letting em do it. She walked further into the house leading them to the kitchen before turning to see Stack holding a medium sized brown teddy bear and Smoke holding a big ass bouquet of roses.

Did they have that with them the whole time?

She must have been too focused on their faces to notice them obviously hiding something behind their backs. Half of her wanted to coo at the obvious “I’m sorry,” gifts but the other half was still pissed and that half was calling all of the shots right now. Cymone scrunched her face a little as she folded her arms at the two men.

“What? This supposed to soften me up,” she accused as her attitude heightened, ready to start a war if she needed to.

“Nah, you ain't gone never be soft. This just something to say sorry for how we left,” Smoke being the first to speak up.

She continued to hold them under her narrowed gaze before it softened just a little. She leaned forward and took notice of the roses being yellow, her favorite color. They still remembered her favorite color after all of these years. Something in her stomach stirred and she decided to finally end her reign of terror against them. She could never stay mad at em for long anyway.

“Well, thank you. It’s about time y’all learned how to apologize,” she said as her tone lightened up while taking the gifts from them.

“But y’all aint off the hook just yet. Still got a lil mo ass to kiss,” she said as she began to walk the gifts up to her room.

“That’s a lot of ass,” she heard one of them mutter, probably Stack’s degenerate ass, before a pop sounded off.

“Shut up nigga.”

Cymone smirked a little as she finally made it to her room. She sat the flowers on her dresser making a mental note to get one of Ganny’s vases to put them in and she sat the bear in the middle of her bed. Her attention was then drawn to her phone buzzing loudly noticing on her nightstand. Of course it was nobody but Reana calling. She snatched the phone from the charger and quickly hit answer knowing her girl hated to wait long for somebody to answer her call.

“House of beauty this is Cutie,” she jokingly greeted while laying across her bed.

“I’m finna come over so you can help me figure out what to wear on my date,” Reana rambled without even giving a formal greetung. Cymone took note of her flustered tone and the shuffling in her background which was a sign that she was probably running around her room like a chicken with her head cut off.

“What fucking date,” Cymone asked while sitting up in her bed. The two girls had talked everyday and almost every hour of the day and Reana had never mentioned anything about a date.

“Uhhhh soo you know yesterday I was at work and Sammie annoying ass came in there messing with me right?”

“Yes, what that gotta do with anything?”

“Welllll, we might have made a bet that if he could bench press 250 pounds I would finally let him take me on a date. Low and behold his ass is actually really strong for his size.”

Cymone sat there for a second slightly bewildered before she burst into laughter. She was laughing so hard tears were running down her face. Sammie was known around as the town player. He was the type of nigga that changed bitches like he changed his drawls. He was never one to keep a girl around for long but he had been sniffing after Reana something serious for years now. Her girl would never give him the time of day because she knew how he was and she aint have time to be knocking Sammie’s head between the washer and the dryer because he wanted to play with her so she always kept her distance. Cymone knew one day he would finally find a way to get her because he was clever like his cousins and it looked like he had finally succeeded but she knew this date was not gone go how he was probably hoping.

“Stop laughing damn! I’m mad enough,” Reana blew out angrily.

“Girl don’t get huffy with me, it aint my fault. Yo ass need to stop betting people too. You ain’t no damn gambler.”

“Whatever man. I’ll be there in ten minutes,” and with that Reana hung up the phone in her face making Cymone laugh once again.

“Girl always getting herself into something like a toddler.”

Knowing that Reana was on the way, Cymone decided to go downstairs and wait for her and maybe also see how the twins were doing with the dishwasher. You know, just to make sure they were actually down there working.

Once she made it downstairs she rounded the corner into the kitchen to see Smoke leaned over in the dishwasher and Stack standing beside him holding a flashlight. She stepped into the kitchen and walked to the refrigerator deciding to pull out some cut up watermelon. After putting some into a bowl she lifted herself onto the counter and began snacking.

“Y’all know what y’all doing,” she asked knowing full well that they did but it wouldn’t be her if she didn’t find a way to aggravate them in some form or fashion. Smoke was the only one who would seem annoyed by her but say nothing. Stack always wanted to argue back cause he forever had something slick to say.

“You supposed to be sitting on that counter,” Smoke shot back as he looked at her from the corner of his eye.

Cymone rolled her eyes at him before throwing another cube of watermelon into her mouth and then licking her fingers. As she pulled the last finger from her mouth she made eye contact with Stack who had been staring her down since her ass made contact with the counter. She smirked a little before flipping her middle finger at him.

“Take a picture next time. It’ll last longer.”

“You gone stay like that while I go get my camera,” Stack asked as his smirk matched hers causing Cymone to squint her eyes. The nigga literally always had something to say. She continued to stare at him until she heard the doorbell ring indicating that Reana had made it to the house.

“You always running that mouth Stack. Be a shame if somebody put some real use to it,” she said as she hopped off the counter and sauntered to the door while also doing what nobody could ever do, she had Stack speechless.

Stack

“I thought I’d never see the day somebody shut yo ass up,” Smoke said with a chuckle as he stood from the floor.

Stack could only shake his head as a smirk slowly began to form on his face.

“Guess Punkin aint the same Punkin no more like Duke said,” he said as thoughts began to swirl in his head and none of them were clean.

“Nah she aint,” making Stack turn to his brother and squint his eyes.

“Nigga I know that look!”

“Shut yo loud ass up. What fucking look?”

“That you intrigued look. Like you wanna see what Punkin talking bout,” Stack accused as he folded his arms.

“You got the same damn look nigga! If anything yo ass got the you intrigued actions,” Smoke said while walking up on his brother, looking him up and down.

“I’m Stack baby. I’m always intrigued by a woman,” he said with a chuckle making his brother scoff and brush past him heading out of the kitchen.

Stack followed him into the living room where they saw Cymone sitting on the couch and her friend sitting in the middle of the floor with a pair of shoes in each hand and two outfits laid out on the floor. Stack took the liberty to sit on one side of Cymone while Smoke took the other side basically sandwiching the poor girl in between them.

“What y’all in here doing,” Stack asked as he watched Smoke snatch the remote from Cymone’s hand and switch the channel from whatever reality tv show she was watching to a football game. Cymone quickly frowned her face up and thumped him upside the head causing him to grab her hand.

“Don’t put yo hands on me,” he gruffed while throwing her hand back into her lap.

“Don’t come in here snatching shit out my hand in my house!”

“Will y’all shut up damn. Somebody answer my question,” Stack asked again before they could start up into an argument.

“Reana got a date with y’all slow ass cousin.”

“Who? Sammie?”

“Yes,” Reana answered begrudgingly from the floor with a roll of her eyes.

“Don’t do my boy like that. He gone wine and dine ya real nice,” Stack answered with a little laugh knowing how his cousin could get down when he was pursuing somebody.

“That’s fine. A bitch love a free meal but that don’t mean I’m coming off no ass. I will be going home right after we eat,” she stated matter of factly while wagging her finger in the air.

“Yeah, okay. Um, you gone cook something,” Stack asked as he turned his attention back to Cymone while wrapping his arm around her shoulder. The girl immediately turned to him in disbelief.

“Why are y’all still here,” she exasperated while leaning from his arm causing her to lay onto Smoke’s chest.

Just as Stack was about to answer her question with something smart his phone started buzzing in his pocket. He held up a finger at Cymone as he pulled his phone out his pocket and quickly wished he hadn’t when he saw the name on the screen.

Mary. Again.

Stack frustratedly blew out a breath as he hit the ignore button for the umpteenth time just for her to immediately call back causing him to power the whole phone off altogether. He then turned to see Cymone looking at him quizzically being that she was watching him the whole time.

“Why Mary blowing your phone up like that?”

Stack only turned his head and purse his lips cause he didn’t wanna tell her or Reana that he slipped up and fucked Mary, a little too good, right before he left causing the woman to become obsessed. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Reana’s mouth drop and soon after he heard Smoke chuckling. He turned his head back to Cymone to see her leaned further into Smoke with her eyes wide and hand on her chest as if she was offended.

“Did you fuck Mary Elias?”

He cringed at her calling his government name cause she only said it when she was mad or disappointed in him. He could tell in this situation it was definitely the latter of the two. Everybody round here knew the type of girl Mary was. She was one of them white girls that stayed in the hood posted up round niggas hanging on to the lil drop of black she had in her blood cause her granddaddy was mixed. She had already been hit by so many niggas in the hood before him, word was she was tryna have a mixed baby, so he didn’t think she was gone be so hung up on him all these years after.

“Yeah man, damn,” he finally answered as he ran his hand down his face.

“That’s a damn shame you let that squirrel ass hoe get to you. You back here laughing, did you fuck her too,” Cymone asked as she turned her accusatory gaze to Smoke who was still surprisingly cracking up.

“Nah. I’m lactose intolerant,” causing Stack to squint his eyes at his brother.

“It was a mistake and it only happened one time. I don’t give a damn bout that girl and I don’t know why her married ass keep calling me.”

“You must have really put it on her Stack. Gots to be mo careful baby boy,” Cymone said with a fake pout on her pretty lips and she rubbed his back.

“I’m just a man who likes to take care of the woman he lay with,” he remarked as he looked Cymone right in the eyes, noticing her freeze up.

She immediately leaned up and cleared her throat before turning her attention to Reana who had been watching the three of them with a little smirk on her face.

“Girl come on and let’s go upstairs so we can figure out your outfit,” Cymone said and she stood from the couch and all but snatched Reana from the floor to head upstairs to her room.

Stack leaned back on the couch with a grin wide as the Mississippi River. He had gotten her back for her mouth in the kitchen.

“Checkmate.”

Note: Sorry for the wait guys. My plan was to have this part out by Friday but life kept getting in the way chile but here is part 2!! Next part will more than likely only be from Cymone's point of view and she adjusts to her feelings for the twins and not to mention Rashad is still around. Also it’s so hard finding pictures of Michael with hair so just know that Stack has a short fro and Smoke has waves. Let me know what y'all and think I hope y'all enjoy! Also let me know if you would like to be tagged. See ya next time!

Tag List: @angryflowerwitch @cleo92bitch-i-am-old @reci1996 @hoodpr1ncessdiana @cerya @rose-bliss @thickemadame

[flowerwiththemachinegun]

Play fighting with any of these guys can either be really fun or a traumatic experience.

Just a few play fighting hc’s

AGSZC+Hojo

—��——————————————————————

Zack

Immediately catches on to your antics and “fights” back, also always starts a fight with you

Will definitely lift you up and toss you over his shoulder

Lets you win sometimes unless you start shit talking, will start a new round for your transgressions

Loves slamming you onto the bed or couch, absolutely takes advantage of the fact he can swing you around

He definitely knows a set or two (three) of wwe moves, can’t tell me otherwise

Will stop to make sure you’re okay after underestimating his strength, tossing you completely over the bed

Didn’t play fight with you for months after said incident ^^^^^

This boy has too much energy and is going to play with you until you’re wheezing

Will fight you any and everywhere

Angeal

Had to learn that despite him telling you a very very firm no you were going to climb him like a tree and attempt to secure a rear naked choke

Easily breaks free of any hold you manage to surprise him with (if you can get lucky enough to catch him off guard)

Caves in to your playfulness eventually but asks if you’re okay 45 million times because he can’t “hurt his baby”

Never lets you win but will prolong fights for your sake since you call him mean

Almost always ends in cuddles

Uses said cuddles as a tactic to end your assault. catching on you eventually make it your playful way of asking for cuddles

Only play fights with you in private but will occasionally do it in front of friends

Sephiroth

That man’s reflexes almost took your head off, looked at you with pure bewilderment the first time because “why do you want to hit me?”

Definitely has to get use to this form of playfulness but grows to like the amount of physical contact

On the rarest occasion he might playfully attack first, stopping whatever he was doing to play with you before casually going back about his business

Can get fed up pretty fast sometimes, will pin you down and ask “are you done now”

Memorizes any strategy you have against him (not that you ever win)

Has no idea what it even means to let you win, he’s undefeated. “you have to earn the title”

Only uses 2% of his strength when fighting you, you try to force him to use even more strength

Only play fights at home

Cloud

“What the hell are you doing?” Another bewildered look, he’s no fun right now

He’s not going to play with you…at first

Caves in after months of attempts, to your surprise he attacked you first

(He’s just hard ^)

Also likes the amount of physical contact because he’s touch starved

You thought this guy would let you win? No. Absolutely not—he’ll be damned. You know that boy loves to win.

Is definitely gonna go 3D Brawlers on you and 3 piece combo the shit out of you.

“Are you okay?” He’s smirking as he asks, as though he didn’t just leave you on the floor to die

Definitely only does this when it’s the just two of you

Hojo

Don’t even bother with this man. isn’t entertaining anything ever

Christ he’s an old man why are you trying to fight him anyways

Just wants you to get back in your pod “don’t make this more difficult than it has to be”

Slaps your hands away (kinda sassy) “I have work to do”

Are you supposed to care about his work when he only lets you out of your pod once a week? You’ve gotta enjoy this

Still touching him and refusing to get back in your pod, he sees clearly now you must want to breed

Genesis (The Rizzler)

Started play fighting with you first, he’s gotta see what positions he can contort you into for later

Also loves tossing you around, has to show you that his muscles aren’t just for show

The biggest show off of them all, isn’t going to let you win. not unless you sit on it

100% going to hunt you down for trying to slip in a shot, running away after you hit him

Likes holding you against him as all you can do is giggle and squirm

Almost always ends with you naked underneath him. I don’t make the rules, he’s gonna tickle you out of those drawers

Knows you want to fight before you know you want to fight

Will play with you in front of any of his friends and at home, also not very public about it.

————————————————————————

I call Genesis The Rizzler on a regular basis, you couldn’t even convince me his name is Genesis anymore

[saxophonesir]

Part four of my white passing Tim Drake agenda

It started with a joke.

Dick had been helping Tim clean up his apartment—by which he meant Dick was lounging on Tim’s couch, making comments, while Tim actually cleaned.

Tim was reorganizing his bookshelf when Dick, scrolling through his phone, snorted. “Man, I swear, Bruce has us all collecting languages like trading cards. What are you at now? Five? Six?”

Tim rolled his eyes, shifting a stack of books. “Seven.”

Dick let out a low whistle. “Show-off. What are they?”

Tim didn’t even look up. “French, German, Spanish, Russian, Latin, Greek, and Mandarin.”

Dick froze. “Mandarin?”

Tim, still distracted, hummed in confirmation. “Yeah.”

A beat of silence. Then—

“Huh.”

Tim turned, eyebrow raised. “What?”

Dick sat up, studying him like he’d just grown a second head. “You speak Mandarin.”

Tim frowned. “Yeah? So?”

Dick gestured vaguely at him. “Since when do you speak Mandarin?”

Tim rolled his eyes. “Since I learned it, obviously.”

Dick scoffed. “No, I mean—why?”

Tim blinked, thrown off by the question. “…Why does anyone learn a language?”

Dick narrowed his eyes. “Okay, but, like… was it just for missions? Or did you—” He cut himself off, his brain finally catching up.

Tim saw the exact moment it clicked.

Dick’s eyes widened slightly, his expression shifting from confusion to realization to something softer. “Wait. Is this a family thing?”

Tim sighed. He should’ve known this was going to happen eventually. “…Yeah. My mom was Chinese.”

Dick stared at him. “Holy shit.”

Tim rolled his eyes again. “Really? That’s your reaction?”

“I mean—! I just—!” Dick gestured wildly, clearly thrown. “Dude, how did I not know that?”

Tim shrugged, turning back to his bookshelf. “I don’t really talk about it.”

Dick was still staring, his brain visibly short-circuiting. “I just assumed—you know, rich Gotham kid, white parents—” He groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “God, I’m an idiot.”

Tim smirked. “Finally, something we can agree on.”

Dick huffed, then, after a pause, asked, “So… do you actually use it? Like, can you hold a conversation?”

Tim hesitated, then admitted, “…My Mandarin is kind of crap.”

Dick’s brows shot up. “But you speak seven languages?”

Tim groaned, flopping onto the couch beside him. “I know! It makes no sense! I can read it fine, my grammar’s solid, but my accent—” He shook his head. “Apparently, I sound awful.”

Dick snickered. “Like, ‘off’ how?”

Tim glared at him. “Like, I sound like a white guy reading from a phrasebook.”

Dick lost it, doubling over with laughter. “Oh my god—”

Tim shoved him. “Shut up.”

Dick was still grinning. “No, no, it’s just—it’s so you! Of course you’d be perfect at every other language but sound like a tourist in the one tied to your own family.”

Tim scowled. “Glad you find it funny.”

Dick nudged him playfully. “Hey, it’s kinda endearing. And, you know, we do have a bunch of native speakers in the family. If you ever wanna work on it, I’m sure Damian would love to mock—I mean, help you.”

Tim groaned. “Great. Exactly what I need.”

Dick grinned. “Hey, I think it’s cool. And, you know, if you ever do wanna talk about it, I’m all ears.”

Tim glanced at en gave a small nod. “Yeah. Thanks, Dick.”

Dick beamed. “Anytime. Now, say something in Mandarin. I gotta hear this accent.”

Tim threw a pillow at his face.

Now, Bruce. Bruce prided himself on knowing everything about the people in his life. It wasn’t just a habit—it was a necessity. Information was protection. If he knew, he could prepare. If he could prepare, he could keep them safe.

It wasn’t arrogance—it was necessity. Their lives depended on preparation, on understanding the people they fought alongside. He had contingency plans for all of them, profiles meticulously detailed, habits cataloged. He knew how Jason held his jaw when he was about to throw a punch, the exact lilt in Dick’s voice when he was covering up exhaustion, the barely perceptible shift in Damian’s stance when he was about to lie.

And yet, somehow, he had missed something so fundamental about Tim that it made him question everything.

He had overheard it by accident.

A rare quiet evening in the manor, Damian and Tim sitting at the long dining table, a chess game between them. Bruce had only been half-listening as he went over case notes, his mind caught between the present and the ever-growing weight of unfinished business. Then, in a tone that was more observational than judgmental, Damian had said, “Your pronunciation is dreadful. It is almost shameful, considering your background.”

Tim had groaned. “Yes, thank you, Damian. I’m aware.”

Bruce hadn’t thought much of it at first—until Damian continued.

“It is strange. You should be more naturally inclined toward it.”

Tim had sighed. “Yeah, well, language skills aren’t genetic, Damian. And just because my mom was Chinese doesn’t mean I grew up speaking it fluently.”

Bruce had stilled.

It was such a small thing. Just a few words exchanged between brothers.

But they hit Bruce like a blow to the chest.

Tim’s mother was Chinese.

Janet Drake—distant, sharp, refined—had been Chinese. And Bruce had never once thought about it. Never questioned it.

And suddenly, all the little things he had overlooked over the years began to piece themselves together.

The way Tim brewed tea with an almost unconscious precision. The books on his shelves, some with spines marked in Chinese characters. The way he sometimes hesitated before saying certain words, as if recalling something half-forgotten. The fact that he had never quite seemed at home in spaces meant for him, never quite fit into the image of “Timothy Jackson Drake” that the world had constructed around him.

Bruce had missed it.

And that realization settled deep inside him, alongside all the other failures he carried when it came to Tim.

Because, of course, he had missed it. Of course, Tim was the one son he had never quite been able to read.

With Dick, there was warmth, openness. With Jason, there had been fire, defiance. Even Damian, for all his sharp edges, had a clear, undeniable presence.

But Tim?

Tim had always been quiet. Always watching. Always adapting. A chameleon in any situation, taking up only as much space as the moment required. He was easy to perceive, but never to see.

And now Bruce was wondering—how much else had he missed?

The thought lingered with him long after Damian had won the chess game and Tim had grumbled about it. Long after they had cleared the board and gone their separate ways.

That night, Bruce found himself in the cave, staring at Tim’s file on the Batcomputer.

It contained everything—height, weight, medical records, case history. But nowhere in those cold, analytical lines of text was the truth of who Tim was.

Who he had always been.

Bruce sat in the dim glow of the monitor, fingers steepled, jaw tight.

For the first time in a long while, he felt like the world’s greatest detective had failed to solve the most important case of all.

His own son.

It makes sense now, in everything Bruce had dismissed before. When he overheard Tim practicing Mandarin with Damian, his accent just slightly off. When he’d caught sight of an old photo of Janet Drake, tucked away in a folder on Tim’s desk. Or when it was the tea—chrysanthemum, Tim had said absentmindedly one night, a quiet tradition carried from his mother, a detail Bruce had never thought to ask about.

It was staggering.

Not because it changed anything—Tim was still Tim. But because he had missed it. Because it made him realize just how much he had always been missing when it came to Tim.

It was a quiet night in the Cave when he finally said it.

“I didn’t know.”

Tim, hunched over the Batcomputer, barely looked up. “Know what?”

Bruce hesitated. “That your mother was Chinese.”

Tim’s fingers froze over the keyboard.

For a second, there was nothing. Then, slowly, Tim turned, raising an eyebrow. “You didn’t?”

Bruce exhaled, feeling something heavy settle in his chest. “No.”

Tim studied him, and Bruce could see it happening—Tim processing, assessing, deciding how to react.

Then, with a faint, almost amused scoff, Tim said, “Huh. And here I thought you knew everything.”

Bruce closed his eyes briefly. “I should have.”

Tim was quiet for a long moment, and when he spoke again, his voice was unreadable. “Does it bother you?”

Bruce’s eyes snapped open. “Of course not.”

Tim tilted his head slightly, like he was testing Bruce’s reaction, looking for cracks in his composure. “Then why bring it up?”

Because I failed you.

Because you’re my son, and I should have known.

Bruce exhaled. “Because I realize now how much I’ve overlooked.”

Tim blinked at that, clearly not expecting the admission.

Bruce pressed on. “I… I’ve always felt like there was something missing. Like I was never able to connect with you the way I do with the others.” His jaw tightened. “I thought it was just me. That I was failing in some way.”

Tim’s expression flickered—something unreadable, something quiet.

“…Bruce.” His voice was softer now, less guarded. “It’s not like I was hiding it.”

“I know.”

Tim glanced away, drumming his fingers against the desk. “…Guess I just never thought it mattered.”

“It does,” Bruce said simply.

Tim let out a slow breath, then, after a pause, smirked. “Well. If it makes you feel better, I barely speak Mandarin anyway. My accent’s terrible.”

Bruce gave him a look. “Yes, I’ve heard.”

Tim groaned. “Oh my god, not you too—”

Bruce let the corner of his mouth quirk up, just slightly.

Tim rolled his eyes, but there was something lighter in his expression now, something easier.

And Bruce… Bruce felt it, too.

Maybe they weren’t as disconnected as he had always feared.

Part three

[the-dumpster-fire-of-life]

hii! i love your writing, and if it’s okay, could i request smth ab vance hopper? maybe smth like him being kinda a jerk but reader eventually warms up to him and he kinda denies it to himself but eventually admits that he likes her? thank youuu

Suree! This sucks ass but hey! I tried 😭

That Funny Feeling

Let’s be honest, it would take an entire miracle for Vance to even consider you a friend, much less close enough to be a partner

Vance is an asshole when he’s provoked, or probably just when it’s THAT kind of day

And if it was you who did it even on accident?

So obviously, he’s gonna be a dick to you

Maybe it was during school, maybe at Grab N Go, hell you maybe said hi to him when he was in a mood, but nonetheless, Vance did NOT take to you at first

With Vance I don’t think it’s a “Fall in love at first sight” thing, sure he finds people attractive, but he needs to know them to even find out if they’re annoying or worthy to keep around

You fit into that criteria, but he learns that way later on

After the first interaction, he thought he successfully scared you off by him being, Yknow, Pinball Vance Hopper

But then he noticed you just kept popping up somehow. At school, probably on the walk home, Grab N Go, or just all over town

It was the small moments that built everything up I feel

A hi here and there, a smile then and again, or maybe some change for the Pinball machine when you noticed he was out

Just acts of kindness, that maybe just made him kinda warm up to you, and to you him

He doesn’t think he is even capable of thinking about someone that way, so for a very, very long time you weren’t even friends, more acquaintances

You gotta go at it slowly, and when he warms up enough, THAT is when you are just his friend, even if it is left unsaid

Being friends with Vance comes with pros and cons, and one con is his inability to express his feelings in something other than anger

So when he gets close enough to you to start developing feelings?

Baby boy is denying that shit HARD

He probably is mean even more after, starts just rejecting your presence in hopes that the feeling with MAYBE go away

He probably thinks he doesnt even deserve to be happy in that way, and that he’s just not someone who’s made for that

But he just always wants to be with you, Yknow? Sometimes even wants to touch you in just casual ways, to just talk or be in your space

He doesn’t accept it, but it’s been long enough that the thought of being together isn’t incomprehensible

This is probably the stage that takes the longest for Vance: Asking you out

He tried, and let me tell you he got so close, but at the last minute when you’re looking at him with those curious and almost waiting eyes, like you know it’s coming, he chickens out

He probably gets frustrated with himself one day after another failed attempt, and either blurts it out really quickly as he’s all mad, or he just says it all nervous and fast and hopes to god you didn’t hear it

But you did, and he is so fucking glad you did

Cause the moment he feels your lips on his? God is Vance a goner

[illubean]

Can you write a scenario/headcannons where the hxh characters have a crush on Zoldyck!reader? (I think reader would have such overprotective brothers, killua and illumi lol)

HXH with a crush on Zoldyck!reader

Characters: Kurapika Kurta, Leorio Paladaknight, Chrollo Lucilfer Type: Fluff?, Headcanons, Gn!reader

why is illumi the only one with eyebrows and a mouth in this photo

Warnings: none

Kurapika Kurta

out of his two older friends Killua thinks Kurapika is the better option

but he still doesn't like the idea of you dating anyone

like his dear older sibling is giving their attention to someone other than him? unacceptable!

Kurapika is a lot more reserved with his feelings than Leorio, leaving not much room for Killua to meddle

so the younger boy just watches from afar

he gives the blonde glares and intense side eyes, and when he feels he's getting too close he won't hesitate to swoop in and steal you away

Kurapika is pretty smart so he's probably found a few ways to get around your brother

after a while of you two talking without Killua's knowledge you eventually get together

one day he caught you two holding hands under a table at the diner or sitting at a bench

he actually screams

with erratic gestures to your guys' hands he's like "WHEN DID THIS HAPPEN"

the boy is slack jawed

he thought he did such a good job keeping you separated

"watever just...don't hurt them or anything!"

Leorio Paladaknight

Killua's first reaction to learning this information is "No way, you're too old for my sibling!"

Killua babes he's only like 19

Leorio is by no means subtle with the way he feels about you even if he thinks he is

Killua makes it his life mission to keep you separated 💀

The group is splitting up and Leorio volunteers to go with you? So does Killua. He wants to sit next to you on the train? Aw too bad, your little brother is already sitting there

but if by some miracle you get away from your brother he doesn't waste a single moment in asking you out

after learning that his attempts to keep you separated failed, Killua gets a little pouty

"Seriously? You chose THIS guy!?" "What the hell is that supposed to mean you little shit!"

knowing you guys got together doesn't stop the boy from trying to get in the middle of things though

he's a pro at this point

he will find a way to crash literally any date you plan on going on soo you guys gotta be secretive about it

you probably had to come up with code words in order to plan dates 💀💀💀

Chrollo Lucilfer

the only way I see this working is if you were already part of the troupe so lets go with that

out of literally anyone on the planet he just HAD to have a crush on a Zoldyck

to say your family wasn't pleased would be an understatement

especially Illumi

the Zoldycks typically don't do -ships...like friendSHIPS or relationSHIPS so Chrollo pining for you is definitely an issue

and when two of your brothers end up joining the troupe after you

let's just say Chrollo isn't having the best time.

Kalluto is a lot less aggressive or opinionated on the matter than his eldest brother, but he still isn't fond of the idea of you ending up with the leader of the phantom troupe

he finds ways to draw your attention away from Chrollo

whereas Illumi isn't so passive

if he catches the head of the spiders so much as glancing at you he's going to stand in his line of vision with a stern "Stay away from my sibling."

and just to keep things easy on himself Chrollo heeds these warnings

well..until he's able to catch you alone

you guys are gonna have to date on the dl and be SERIOUSLY sneaky

dating while coming from a family of assassins is not an easy feat

In conlusion alongside being professional assassins, the Zoldyck boys are also professional cockblockers

[motherlvr]

hi:D can you do miles!42 with a reader who doesn't really like getting told "watch who ur talking to" or smth bc most fics abt miles!42 is like that and nooo i won't ever let a man say that to me😭 and they like, know how to defend themself so they're pretty independent if thats alr ofc!

ngl i loved writing this, tysm for the req!

wc: 2.1k

pairing: E-42 Miles Morales x Strong, Independent! f! reader

warnings: enemies to lovers, kind of rivalry tbh, cursing, Miles is mean in this one, but gets character development, reader knows how to fight, baddie ong, reader doesn't take miles' bs

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

"You gotta be shitting me." Mumbling under your breath, your eye involuntarily twitched. You glared at Miles like it was his fault for putting you in this situation.

Your glare was reciprocated as he said, "I ain't happy about it either, princesa." You hated when he called you that. It rolled off his tongue with such distaste. "Yeah? Glad we got that in common then." You snipped, irritated.

Miles Gonzalo Morales was a dick. To put it kindly.

He was a stuck-up, close-minded dick. It's like his sole purpose in life was to irk you. The two of you have never been on good terms. He tested your patience every waking moment.

But unfortunately for both of you, your Spanish teacher paired you up as partners for a major project. It would count for a good portion of your grade, so not doing it wasn't an option for you. You had less than two weeks to finish the project, and you weren't going to waste it.

You'd much prefer to do the project alone. One thing you've learned is: if you want something done correctly, do it yourself. And to never put it solely in the hands of a man. But the project was a requirement for the class, so you had no place to argue about it.

Thankfully, today was just a planning day. So it wouldn't be as painful, you hoped.

You showed him a plan you had thought about within only a few minutes and asked, "Thoughts?" He took a short glance at it and told you, "That's trash." A vein almost popped out of your head. You snapped, "You got any better ideas then?"

"Yea, anythin' other than that." He told you mindlessly. You had half a mind to make his braided head become real familiar with the cold surface of his desk. Around ten minutes later, he had finally come up with something. It wasn't that great, but at least he was semi-cooperative. You took one look at his plan and decided to turn the tables on him. You said, "You couldn't have come up with anything better? Shit's worse than my idea."

You could see him grip his pencil just a bit tighter, no doubt irritated by now. "Nah, watch your mouth." He told you, and you were unsure of how serious he was being. "Watch my mouth? You needa watch how when you turn around, one of your precious braids will be gone." You said as you made a snipping motion with your fingers. He protectively grabbed onto his braids, "Yo chill, ma."

As Spanish class progressed, everything only went downhill from there. He always seemed to hate every idea you had or had something to say. He groaned, "Woman, I swear. Your ideas are shit." Your former hopes of a peaceful partnership were long gone.

His choice of words alone irked you as you replied, "See, that's what you're not gonna call me. And if we're gonna be partners, you need to act decent for once. Get it together, Morales." You set clear boundaries as you pointed a finger at him. Surprisingly, he obliged. He looked like he made a revelation as he shook his head. "Nah, you right. That was outta line." The moment was oddly tranquil until he opened his mouth again. "I meant: I swear, your ideas are fucking terrible."

From that point further, the hopes of having a normal, mature, conversation were fleeting. The majority of the class was spent bickering rather than working on the task at hand.

You were one of the very few people that tested him. You gave him a challenge, while most people wouldn't utter a single complaint.

Eventually, at the end of the class, the two of you finally landed on an idea to carry out. A true miracle.

The next week in Spanish class passed and the days were cutting it closer and closer to the deadline. But there was still much work to be done. So, begrudgingly, you both had to work on it out of school. After Spanish, you were packing up your things when you asked him, "My place or yours?" His response was immediate. "My place. I'll give you my address. Come over after school, 'ight?" He said, writing down his address and handing it to you.

You accepted it and said, "Alright. Are your parents good with me coming over?" You questioned if he even had the decency to check first. Although you couldn't stand him most of the time, you didn't want to intrude on his family. He shrugged it off, "Yeah my ma's good with it. Already told her."

He wasn't about to tell you that his mother demanded the project was done at his house so she could keep a keen eye on the both of you.

You were dreading the final bell of the day. Spending more time than legally required with Miles wasn't your ideal image of fun. As the school day ended, you walked over to Miles' house.

Knocking on the door, it was soon opened by no one other than Miles' mother. She was expecting you, as a smile adorned her face. You greeted her, "¡Hola, Señora Morales! Gracias por invitarme a tu casa." (Hi, Mrs. Morales! Thank you for inviting me to your house.)

She widened her eyes at you, "¡Claro! ¿Cómo estás?" (of course, how are you?) She asked you with a sweet smile. You replied and reciprocated a smile, "Bien, ¿usted?" (good, you?) To which she responded, "Muy bien, gracias." (very good, thank you) As you put down your things, you noticed Miles was standing only a few feet away. His mother pulled Miles to the side and whispered, "She speaks Spanish, I like her." Not wanting to give away that she was a loud whisperer, you concealed a small laugh. It's a wonder how Miles turned out like that. His mother's wonderful. You knew she raised him better.

After his mother was done speaking to him, Miles led you to his room. His mother called out, "¡Deja la puerta abierta!" (leave the door open!) "Si, mami." He said back in an unusually nice tone.

You previously believed Miles Morales was a universal dick. But you soon realized you were somewhat wrong. He was a dick. To everyone except his mother, it seemed.

As you both settled down to start working on the project, you grinned at him like you had just found out a Federal-level secret. "You're such a momma's boy." You said.

His head whipped to you like you knew something you shouldn't. "No one would believe you." He said. You teased, "Oh, everyone would. Trust."

This was the most civil conversation the both of you have ever held within your whole history of knowing Miles. The afternoon was sprinkled with light-hearted jokes here and there, and it wasn't as painful as you initially believed. Needless to say, being forcibly confined in a space with Miles went much smoother than you could've ever anticipated. The project was progressing for once. And so was your relationship with Miles.

A few days later, you were in a better mood than regular. Within the past few days, Miles has been more tolerable. Maybe even likable. Apparently, you were in too good of a mood. You must've appeared too approachable today.

As you were walking in the hallways of school to your next class, a guy you didn't recognize slung an arm around your shoulders and said, "Hey, what's good jit?" You immediately pushed his arm off. He reeked of an excessive usage of cologne. You winced at his stench. "Don't call me that." You assertively said. But he only took it as a challenge. He said with a wink, "You tryna play hard to get? Alright, I'll play along."

"I'm not 'playing hard to get'," You mocked with air quotations. Dumbing it down, you continued, "I don't want you." Could a girl make it any more obvious?

Your words went straight over his oversized head. He said with a disgusting smirk, "I can change your mind." Your face visibly grimaced at his desperate attempt, "Not even baby Jesus could change my mind."

He was starting to get agitated at this point, "Nah, why you trippin', girl?" he said. You immediately retorted, "Why can't you take a damn hint?"

"C'mon, I know you want me. Gimme a chance." He said. You were sick and tired of this interaction, so you just decided to walk away. Turning your back, you tried to escape this conversation. But he grabbed your hand to prevent you from leaving. "Aye, where you goin'?"

You tried to be patient. And where did patience get you? Nowhere. In your mind, this guy was way too testosterone-deficient to be talking tough to you. There was nothing worse than a teenage boy. More importantly, a boy that didn't know what 'no' means.

And in an instant, the sound of a slap resounded throughout the hallway.

He looked like he was about to start crying. Holding his cheek in pain, he sneered, "Fuck you, bitch. You ain't shit anyway. I ain't even want you." But as you tried to walk away once again, he placed a tight grip on your shoulder to prevent you from escaping.

Miles was skipping class and wandering in the hallways when he saw you. From your body language, he could tell you were uncomfortable. His eyes glanced toward the guy's grip on your shoulder, and Miles suddenly understood the situation. He could see where this was heading. Or at least, he believed he did. Miles was about to intervene when within the blink of an eye, you had flipped the guy on his back and onto the floor.

You told the boy on the floor, "Don't try that shit again. With me or any other woman, got it?" Groaning in agony, the guy whimpered in response, and you took it as a 'yes'.

The guy was no André the Giant, but it impressed the hell out of Miles nonetheless. Since when could you do that? He questioned himself. Miles had to prevent his jaw from dropping. He was suddenly glad he never pushed you that far. You walked away unbothered as if nothing had happened. He gained a newfound respect for you. But that would have to stay unspoken.

Once Spanish class rolled around, you realized it was the second to last day you had to finish the project, so you were working extra diligently in Spanish class. You told Miles, "Alright, I finished decorating it. What do you think?" showing him the project. Not that you cared what he thought, but it would make this whole process much easier if he wouldn't shit on your every move. You've had your daily dose of asshole for the day. Almost an overdose, really.

A few moments passed by where he stared at the project, and then back to you. Fully expecting Miles to be his usual asshole self, you said, "Spit it out. What is it?" You waved your hand in front of his face. He swatted your hand away and replied, "I ain't gonna hold you, it's a pretty solid project so far."

You raised a brow at him, and suspiciously asked, "Really?" This was the first time he didn't have any retort to say. "Yeah, I think you're great, ma." He said. You cheekily grinned at him as he tried to correct himself, "I meant, great at the project. Yeah. The project." He almost stumbled on his words. He never did that. He was always collected. What was up with him? It was definitely a sudden change, but you weren't complaining.

There was only a small portion of the project left to do by the end of the class, so Miles suggested finishing it at his house.

This time after school, the both of you walked together to his house. As you worked on the project in his room, you noticed he wasn't getting much done. It seemed like he was in his head, whatever goes on in there. As you glanced up, he locked eyes with you. You hadn't a clue what he was thinking.

You originally would've preferred to do the project yourself, but if you had to have a partner, you believed the work should be divided equally. You weren't going to carry the whole project on your back.

"Why're you slacking, Miles? Our time is limited, y'know." "Ion know. Mind's elsewhere." He shrugged. It was subtle, but you noticed his glance travel to your lips. You grinned and took the opportunity to tease, "What, you want a kiss or somethin'?" You said it mainly as a joke. Sure, maybe you liked the way he gave you a challenge everyday. You wouldn't blatantly admit it, but it was refreshing to be with someone that actually cared about their work. But much to your surprise, he ran his hand over the back of his braids and said. "Shi, maybe it would motivate me. You feel me?"

Not expecting him to agree, you said, "I mean, alright. If you get off your ass, maybe I'll give you one." You tried to say as casually as you could. But you couldn't deny the fact that you were growing fond of him. You were internally conflicted as you wanted to hate him, but couldn't. In reality, it was far from hate.

Miles couldn't exactly pinpoint the moment his detest for you faded away and was replaced with something different. An emotion he rarely felt. Seeing you singlehandedly take on a guy was only fueling it for him. He quickly started working harder on his part. You mentally praised yourself. After a few silent moments, he spoke up, "Yo, I'm basically finished."

He was bullshitting, and you knew it. As you looked at his part of the project, he still had a good chunk to finish. But you caved and moved closer to him. Holding a hand to his face, you peppered a light kiss to the corner of his mouth, just barely avoiding his mouth.

As usual, he had something to say, "Don't play, mami." He resisted the urge to press his lips to yours until they were numb. You simply smiled at him and replied, "Yeah? Keep workin' and you'll earn a real one."

Immediately, Miles got right back to working on his part of the project without another complaint. You've never seen him work so studiously.

Pleased to say, with your motivation, Miles was more productive that day than all the other days combined.

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

taglist! please lmk if u want to be added 🫶

@l5byrinth @iamspooderman

[spacedace]

“Hey, I need to get married for bullshit Infinite Realms reasons, you two in?”

“Tt, of course.”

“Sure thing! Do we need to get going for that like, right now? Or later?”

“Eh, like in a couple of hours? The Observants are demanding some Royal Ball or something and they pulled out some stupid old laws out of their collective asses that if I’m not married by the time it starts they can assign me spouses of their choosing, can you fucking believe that shit?”

“Woah, what the hell? Can they even do that?”

“I was under the impression they were only permitted to observe.”

“Right? It’s total crap, but apparently there’s like this super old law on the books and they didn’t bring it up until now when there’s like no time left to try and force me to marry someone they pick.”

“They are training to gain influence over you?”

“Eh, more like they’re trying to get control of my Dad by way of me. But still fucked as hell.”

“So why do you need to marry both of us? Or do you just need to marry one of us and we should play rock paper scissor for it?”

“Technically I only need to marry one of you, but I don’t want them pulling out any loopholes or something. So, it’d be great if one of you could be my consort for my role as Queen of Mirrors, and one could be my consort for my role as Crown Princess. You two can figure who’s who on that all that, I’m good with whatever.”

“Oooh, can I be consort for the Mirror Court? I can annoy Kon more that way.”

“I am amenable to that. Grandfather will have a fit when he learns that I can cut his access to the Pits off at my discretion and there’s nothing he can do about it.”

“Awesome, okay are you two good for meeting up at like, three? We can pop over to my Lair and get everything sorted out there.”

“Works for me, my only class til this afternoon is at one and the professor already said we’re cutting out early because she has to go out of town this weekend.”

“Four would be more agreeable if possible, I have to take Titus to the vet for his checkup.”

“Okay let’s aim for four then. It’s just signing some paperwork, making some quick blood-slash-ectoplasm pacts and swearing a couple binding oaths… Should only take like five or ten minutes?”

“They’re not gonna make you have a huge royal wedding or anything?”

“Nah. Dad keeps things pretty chill so as long as the paperwork is all in order we’ll be good. Though once Auntie Dorathea finds out she’s absolutely gonna make us have one. She loves planning weddings. Swear its what she makes her hoard out of somehow.”

“So long as we have a say in some of the proceedings I have no issue with that eventuality.”

“Same, it sounds like it’d be a fun way to annoy the Observants even more.”

“Don’t for get all the weirdos trying to be my suitors and all that bullshit.”

“We have an accord then. We can reconvene at the usual place.”

“Awesome, you two are the best! I gotta jet and let everyone know and get the ball rolling on the paperwork stuff. See you guys at four!”

With that, Nomad - Stella Phantom, Crown Princess of the Infinite Realms, Queen of Mirrors, Core of the Speedforce and ghostly hero of the Titans and the Justice League - tore a rip in the fabric of space and time and darted out of the room the same way she came. Through the mind-bending tear in reality the eerie, eye-searing green of the Infinite Realms glowed in all its unsettling glory, Phantom Keep a glittering expanse of night sky made solid in the distance.

Jon waved at her cheerfully as Damian gave a nod of farewell before both silently turned their attention back to their respective tablets as the portal closed behind their friend and teammate and the glimpse of the Ghost Zone disappeared again. Completely unbothered by the conversation just held or the life changing implications that came with them.

Jon was humming as he tapped away at something on the screen before him, Damian propping his head up on his fist in vague boredom as he frowned down at the information he was reading.

The rest of the room Nomad had left behind was caught in a frozen, stunned silence in the wake of the baffling conversation they’d all just been witness to. All eyes in the room darted between Flamebird and Pheonix seated calmly at the end of the table, then to the space where Nomad had disappeared to, back to the young men, and then towards the head of the table where Superman and Batman sat looking bewildered and a bit on the verge of heart attacks.

The short status update meeting was about to become much, much longer it seemed.

Though a lot more entertaining.

[partiallysame]

hello grogginess is GONE!

from then it’s just mayhem with the guys. they’re adamant about making sure you stay hydrated but they’re always attentive when it comes that sort of thing (simon has grumbled more than once about how you’re shit at remembering to feed yourself and drinking water) so you don’t notice at first. but when you catch on that they’re a little more adamant than usual you ask them about it. ofc johnny is the one that folds. “lass you gush a fuckin fountain when you squirt we gotta make sure you’re rehydrating.”

initially you think it’s the most embarrassing thing and if one of them wasn’t always holding on to your wrists to keep you from hiding you’d bury your face in your hands in an attempt to disappear. but eventually, with constant reassurance from the guys that they love it (an understatement…they are fascinated and obsessed with making you squirt every chance they get), you learn to relax and enjoy the way their eyes light up when you squirt. (one night simon quietly confesses that he loves how wet and messy it is and how you feel comfortable and safe enough to let go with him like that)

and while you definitely weren’t a virgin when you and simon started dating, your experience with sex wasn’t as extensive or adventurous as simon’s or the rest of the 141. seeing the guys go absolutely feral over you squirting has you shyly asking simon to maybe try exploring other kinks with him and the guys

(this is 100% self indulgent and leading up to reader and the 141 thoroughly discussing and fully consenting to trying a day of free use with reader)

(In reference to this )

I just know Johnny is also giving you different types of fruit juices to see if he can taste a difference. It’s for science and research he swears.

You were like wow I sure am peeing more than usual and I haven’t even finish my water today. You have. Like 8 times. They just fill it up again before it’s empty. They haven’t let it be empty in weeks.

You ask about trying new kinks and Simon is texting the boys behind his back while you’re talking bc they need to know this and then suddenly they unexpectedly show up at your door to also be apart of the conversation.

Simon brings up free use and you look at him a lil confused bc “don’t we usually do that Si” (to be fair you two fuck all the time and everywhere no matter what you were doing so) and all three of the men are groaning in unison. And Simon is like well kind of but also include the boys in it. And maybe wear a skirt. Kyle chimes in to add “maybe no underwear” and you just look at Simon bc you don’t usually wear underwear at home anyway. All of them are shifting in their seats at that confession “you’re gonna be the death of us lass”

Each of them is fighting so fucking hard to let the conversation continue and not leap across the table to get to you but they finally break when you oh so shyly ask if maybe they could tie you up and then take turns. Simon almost came in his pants. Johnny did cum in his pants

[bellaxgiornata]

SAHD!Frank Castle Headcanons

I picture Frank being an amazing, hands-on father if he ever managed to fall back into that role again and I just think he'd make such a wonderful stay-at-home-dad. I couldn't resist sharing some of my SAHD!Frank headcanons so they're below the cut! And I'm also just going to make him a girl dad here because he absolutely is in my mind.

I could also certainly be persuaded to share some girl dad!Frank Castle headcanons...

With the ridiculous cost of daycare, you and Frank would eventually come to the conclusion that it was just more cost effective to have one of you stay home with the girls. And while you might be tempted to do it yourself, you'd also know how much Frank would cherish being present for every moment with his kids. He'd never want to miss a single thing after the tragic loss he'd experienced, and you'd have already seen his steadfast devotion during your pregnancy. While he would argue that you should be the one to stay home with them, eventually you would win out.

On weekdays, Frank would be awake early every morning--possibly even before your alarm went off. He'd always have a mug of hot coffee or tea made for you whenever you finally stepped foot into the kitchen. And when you did, you'd find him preparing breakfast for the girls. He'd always make you up a plate of whatever he cooked, insisting you eat something before you were out the door for work ("You gotta eat, baby. Just a few bites, c'mon."). And Wednesdays would forever be known as pancake day in your house.

Frank would never run out of activities to do with the kids, even if you found some of them to be very 'Frank.' He'd have them help him build things (a new bookshelf, a baby crib, a birdhouse, etc), and he'd teach them what tools to use while he's at it. He'd have them assist him with changing the oil in the car, fixing a leaky sink, or preparing vegetables in the kitchen for dinner (with child-safe knives that he always complained to you later about how "they can't cut for shit."). When playfully teased about the things he teaches them, he'd tell you he wanted your girls to learn "the real shit they won't get from school."

Every Friday is Library Day in the Castle house. Frank would take the girls to the library in the morning for story time where he would sit back and watch with a big grin on his face as his girls sat "criss-cross applesauce" among all the other kids and listened to the books with rapt attention. Aftwerwards, he'd let them pick out new books for bedtime for the upcoming week. Then he would always make the morning extra special by taking the girls out for brunch.

He loves nothing more than to free up more time for all of you to spend together as a family on the weekend, so he would be the dad running errands during the weekdays with a toddler holding each of his hands (or a baby strapped to his chest in a carrier). He'd be out grabbing groceries, hitting up the hardware/home improvement store so he could work on projects around the house, or he'd be taking the kids to their doctor/dentist appointments so you wouldn't have to think about it later.

Frank would be the cool dad at all the parks, the one not afraid to play with his kids and push them on the swings. He'd be making small talk with the other moms and setting up play dates for his girls. He'd also be the one all the other kids flocked to on the playground whenever he was there because he was known to easily be persuaded into playing hide and seek or tag.

A few times throughout the month, Frank would stop by your work just before your lunch break to drop off food with the girls as an excuse to see you ("Had to come see my favorite girl. Wanted to make sure you're not workin' too hard."). You always loved it even more on the random occasions that your lunch came with a bouquet of flowers--either store bought or freshly picked on a walk by him and your girls.

If Frank knew you had a big presentation coming up or that you were just having a rough week/day, you could always count on coming home to something he made with the girls--pictures they colored or crafts they made--to cheer you up ("S'posed to be a butterfly ring or something. Shit, I don't know. Girls wanted to do somethin' with pipe cleaners. Blame YouTube.")

At the end of a long work day, you'd come home to see that dinner was almost finished cooking most nights. You'd either find Frank out back with a beer in one hand grilling while the girls were playing in the yard, or he would be in the kitchen surrounded by high-pitched laughter.

And when you came home from a long day of work, you could always count on Frank greeting you with the biggest smile. He'd wrap you up in his big arms and give you the sweetest kiss, even if he had to pause cooking dinner ("Missed you today, sweetheart. Hope you're hungry."). It would be the thing you looked forward to most at the end of every day, especially on particularly difficult days.

[acrinyx]

TWST Bartender AU

It came to me in a vision and now I can't stop. Let's get into it.

Yuu has just moved to a new city and needs to find work so that they can pay for Grim's college/university and stumbles across a small local bar called Sam's, but also a higher end restaurant called the Mostro Lounge. They end up working at both locations and meet a bunch of interesting people that they start to call family (and low key gets a harem that will kill for them lol).

Cue relationship dramas, therapy, threats of violence, shitty nighttime bar lighting, underpaying employees, workplace harassment, and sleep deprivation.

At some point there will be a cliche plotline about the bar being under threat of being bought/shut down/going out of business and everyone chips in together power of friendship, alcohol, and free therapy blah blah blah

I already got some roles for the characters in mind so here's my completely unfiltered thoughts (everyone is at least 21 or older except Grim and Ortho)

Yuu: Not getting paid enough for everyone's bullshit they deal with on the regular, but every time they think about quitting they think about Grim and giving him the opportunity they never had growing up

Grim (18): Starting his freshman year of college/university at Night Raven College going in undecided. He may act annoying and an ungrateful little shit, wasting time partying in stead of studying, he really does try his best in school and make his older sibling proud

Ace: Yuu's coworker at both Sam's AND the Mostro Lounge. Annoying little prick but he cares and somehow has regulars that really like his company. Yuu does not like him at all at first, but they slowly become friends and vent out all the frustration they both have hearing people complain about their lives on the regular

Deuce: Either police trainee or burnt out college student that comes in frequently. When he meets Yuu for the first time, he's wondering where Ace is and he and Yuu get to talking and become friends by shit talking the redhead (yes I am going to ship adeuce adeuce nation rise up)

Sam: Owner of the local bar. Yuu thought he was kind of strange, but they'd slowly grown to appreciate his presence and wackiness

Crewel: A professor at NRC who looks very out of place in the dimly lit, arguably dirty bar with his big fur coat and silver teaching pointer. He's been going there since he was a student when Sam first opened up the bar

Azul: Owner of the Mostro Lounge in the city. It's his family's business but he owns that restaurant and will eventually inherit everything. There's a bit of an overwhelming pressure to take out any other competition

Jade: A bartender + bouncer for the Mostro Lounge. He's a bit threatening to Yuu but slowly softens a bit around them, realizing that they're just trying to survive like the rest of us in this economy

Floyd: A server + bouncer for the Mostro Lounge. He was never as threatening as Jade, but he was scary when he wanted to be. Yuu was never as offput by his threats since Floyd and Ace are friends

I haven't really gotten around to the others but here are the regulars at each bar respectively (not including who works there) Sam's: Deuce Epel Jack Sebek Silver Lilia Idia Ortho Ruggie Trey Crewel Trein Vargas Ernesto + Gino Skully (I gotta learn his character more so maybe?) Grim

Mostro Lounge: Riddle Vil Rook Kalim Jamil Leona Cater Malleus Crowley Rollo

I can't get this out of my head y'all I can see everything falling into place and all the oneshots and fics and AAAAAAHHHH-

[justagalwhowrites]

The Savage and the Sanctuary - Ch. 3: Parents

You and Joel try to figure each other out and you and Ellie navigate your new relationship while you get ready to go to LA. A continuation of The Savage and the Sanctuary, a no outbreak TLOU story, from the prologue through chapter 2 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

CW: Remembered negligence by a parent. No use of Y/N. Whole fic will be explicit so minors DNI, 18+ only.

Length: 7.5k

Fic Masterlist | Masterlist | AO3 | Prologue | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

“Again.” 

You threw a punch at the sparring mitt on Joel’s hand. 

He shook his head once, tightening his jaw. You weren’t landing the blows well, something was holding you back. 

“C’mon, you got more in you than that,” he said, almost taunting you. “Again.” 

You yelled then and really pulled your fist back before swinging forward yet again. This time, though, it actually forced his arm to move some, making him recenter his weight as he tried to keep position. 

“There you go,” he said. “Keep doin’ that, let’s go.” 

“Seriously?” You panted, dripping sweat, your sports bra clinging somehow even tighter to your skin than it was before the workout started, something Joel was desperate to not pay attention to. “I feel like I’m about to die.” 

“Gotta build up that muscle,” he said. “Come on, Siren -” he said your code name like the taunt it was. “Hit me.” 

You really went after him then, wailing on the sparring mitts and coming for him hard and fast enough that it forced him to step back. 

“Better,” he said eventually and you lowered your hands, your chest heaving. “See? Knew you could do it.” 

“Yeah, turns out all it took was remembering what a dick you are,” you said, a teasing edge to your voice. “Way easier to want to punch you then.” 

“Ma’am?” Esmo’s voice appeared at the door to the pool house. “The car will be here in an hour.” 

“Thanks,” you panted, shucking your gloves and looking to Joel. “You all packed and ready?” 

“I’m ready,” he said. “Won’t have to worry about me.”

“You say that,” you said, putting the gloves away and grabbing your water bottle, chugging from it as you caught your breath. “But we’ll see how you do once we actually get to L.A.” 

“Don’t think it’s gonna be much of a challenge,” he said, even though he knew you were right. He just wasn’t about to say it. “Just don’t do anything stupid, we’ll be fine.” 

“Aw, now where’s the fun in that?” You asked, starting back toward the house. “You OK to get the kid?” 

“What if I said no?” He asked. “I’m not a damn chauffeur, you know.” 

“Sure about that?” You asked. “Because you beg to drive often enough…” 

“I got the kid,” he said. “Go do whatever air-headed shit you gotta do before you get on a plane.” 

You mouthed his words mockingly back at him as you made your way to your room and Joel made his way to the kitchen to get water for himself. 

Things with you had fallen into an almost surprising cadence in the week since his birthday and the conversation in your kitchen. 

It wasn’t that he liked you or anything as extreme as that. He’d just learned how to see you more as a person and less as the specter who haunted the wall of his daughter’s bedroom. You were still spoiled and overly opinionated and frustrating to no end but you were also oddly kind, sharply observant and a dedicated parent to a child who wasn’t yours to begin with. 

Even though your love and care for her was obvious, Ellie seemed to want to tiptoe around you for a few days after she got suspended. She avoided staying anywhere you were for too long, but Joel saw how you’d perk up when she came in and then visibly deflate when she left without saying much of anything at all to you. You tried to pretend like it didn’t bother you, even as you spent hours on the phone with the school trying to convince them to let Ellie come back early without saying why she’d picked a fight with that asshole boy to begin with. He didn’t buy it. 

Eventually, you wore the school down, and Ellie only missed two full days of classes. She just didn’t seem all that eager to return when she climbed in the car for Joel to drop her off the morning she went back. 

“You ready for school?” He asked eventually, glancing her way, trying not to think of navigating conversations like this with Sarah. There were points in time where he could tell something was bothering her but prying would just make it worse so he asked the innocuous questions in hopes she’d give him something - anything - to work with. 

“I guess,” she shrugged, staring determinedly out the window. 

“Want to tell me what’s on your mind?” He asked eventually when she didn’t give him anything else to work with. 

She sighed heavily. 

“I just…” she looked at Joel, her small hands twisting around themselves on her lap. “I know that stupid fucking boy is going to keep saying that shit. What do I do? I know, I know, I can’t hit him. Even though I should be able to fucking hit him.” 

Joel tried not to laugh at that. He didn’t entirely disagree. 

“He scare easy, you think?” He asked, glancing over to Ellie. 

“He seems like a little bitch,” she replied. “So yeah, probably. Why?” 

He shrugged, coming up with a plan. Or a semblance of one, anyway. 

When he got to the school, he didn’t go to the drop off line. Instead, he parked and got out, Ellie frowning as he did. 

“Show me this kid,” he said, nodding for her to lead the way. 

She scanned the crowed for a second before she found him, leaning against the side of the building, looking like he was vaping before the day started. 

“There he is,” she narrowed her eyes at him. “Fucking asshole.” 

“C’mon,” he said, walking up the hill toward the school, keeping an eye out for any teachers or parents who might cause any trouble. “We’ll handle it.” 

Ellie kept up, her much smaller legs needing to almost jog to keep pace with his longer, purposeful stride. Thankfully, the kid was trying to stay out of sight, making Joel’s plan a lot easier. 

The kid was, as it happened, also cocky as hell. 

“Well look who’s back,” he said, shoving back off the wall and not seeming to care that Joel was there. The fog from the vape reeked of pot. “What, your whore mom get them to let you out of your cage early?” 

“You motherfucker!” Ellie lunged for him but Joel held her back. She looked up at him, indignant, but he focused on the kid in front of him. He barely came up to Joel’s chin, maybe 16 years old and suddenly seemingly aware that he’d picked a fight with someone who wasn’t smaller than him. Joel stepped closer, squaring his shoulders, letting himself tower over the kid. He gulped, almost comically so, and stepped back until he was against the wall again. 

“We got a problem here,” Joel said. 

“I.. I don’t…” the kid stammered, but Joel cut him off. 

“Don’t remember askin’ you a damn thing, you little shit,” he said. “I said, we got a problem here. And that problem is you. Now, see, I don’t take too kindly for assholes like you causin’ problems for my people and Ellie here is one of my people. You may not know it but it’s my job to make sure she don’t have problems so you being one… well, that’s an issue, ain’t it?” 

The kid was silent. 

“That was a question,” Joel said, staring him down. “Answer it.” 

“Yes sir,” he said quickly. 

“Good boy,” Joel said using the same tone he would a dog who’d misbehaved. “The way I look at it, we got two ways to handle a problem. We can remove it or we can resolve it. I got all kinds of ways I can remove a problem but resolving it is easier. I like easier. Which would you rather I do?” 

The kid was silent, his eyes darting. 

“Answer. The. Question.” 

“Re…resolve it,” he said, shrinking lower on the wall. 

“Good,” Joel said. “That means, you stop talking shit. You don’t look at her, you don’t talk to her, you don’t talk to anyone else about her, you understand?” 

“Yes sir.” 

“You’re gonna treat her and her family with respect,” Joel considered. “And you’re gonna keep your thoughts - and hands - to yourself. I hear about any other shit like that comin’ out of this school? I’m going to assume it’s coming from you and I’m going to assume you’re a problem that can’t be resolved. That means you’re one that needs to be removed. Do you want me to remove you?” 

“No sir.” 

“What was that?” Joel asked, even though he’d heard him perfectly fine. 

“No sir,” he said, a little louder that time. 

“Good,” he said again. “Now apologize to Ellie.” 

His eyes darted to Ellie and back to Joel. 

“But…” 

“This ain’t a debate,” Joel growled. “Apologize. Now.” 

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly to Ellie. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean any of it, I’m really sorry, I won’t say any of that shit again, I promise!” 

“Good,” Joel said. “Tell anyone about this and I’ll make sure they know about this little vaping habit of yours. Don’t think Texas takes too kindly to drug use, regardless of who your damn daddy is. Remember what I said about problems. Don’t become one and I won’t need to treat you like one. Do I make myself clear?” 

“Yes sir.” 

Joel gave him one final up and down, almost surprised to not find piss staining the front of his pants when he did. He looked back at Ellie. 

“Should get you to class,” he said. “C’mon.” 

He guided Ellie away from the kid and toward the sidewalk and she was smart enough to keep her mouth shut until they were out of earshot. 

“That was so fucking cool,” she was damn near beaming up at Joel. 

“He bothers you again, tell me,” he said, stopping to face her before she made her way to the front door of the school. “I’ll handle it.” 

“Would you beat him up?” She asked, her eyes lighting up. 

He made a face. 

“He’s a fuckin’ kid,” he said. “I don’t hurt kids. But he don’t need to know that. So let me know and don’t go trying to handle shit yourself again, OK kid?” 

“OK,” she said, giving him a firm nod. “Thanks, Joel.” 

He just gave her a nod back and watched her go into the school, staring down the kid still cowering against the wall as he made his way back to the car. 

Ellie started spending more and more time with Joel after that. He took her to and from school almost every day and it only took a few days for her to start talking to him. 

He didn’t invite it, not really, it just kind of happened. It started with her throwing her book bag in the back seat with a little too much force and sighing heavily and Joel’s latent fatherly instinct kicked in before he realized what he was doing. 

“Everything OK?” He asked, raising her brows and glancing toward her as he made his way around other cars picking up kids as the school day ended. She just looked at him, incredulous, until he shrugged. “Don’t take a genius to see something’s goin’ on. That kid give you more trouble?” 

“No,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. He was quiet, drumming his thumbs on the steering wheel, giving her room to sit in the silence. And then she sighed. “It was another kid. Said some shitty stuff.” 

“Shitty stuff like what.”

“Just stuff,” she said, clenching her jaw before deflating. “I just… I don’t think I want to talk about it yet.” 

“Well,” Joel said. “Here when you do. Know your aunt is, too.” 

“Yeah, I know,” she said, watching Joel for a moment. “Want to kill some shit when we get home?” 

“Assuming you’re talkin’ about in one of those damn games…” 

“Duh,” she said. “Don’t think I’m allowed to do it in real life even though some people fucking deserve it.” 

Joel tried to keep from smiling at that. The kid had a mouth on her. He shouldn’t encourage it, he knew that. He shouldn’t encourage her spending time with him, either. But something in him liked that she sought him out, that she felt like he was someone who was safe, someone she could confide in. 

“Sure,” he said. “We can kill some shit.” 

“Fuck yeah.” 

“Hey,” he said. “Language.” 

And he watched as she rolled her eyes good naturedly, a small smile tugging at her mouth. Knowing he made her feel a little better tugged at him, too. He tried to remind himself that he wasn’t supposed to care. You and her were a job, nothing more. Caring about either of you was stupid at best, a liability at worst. It was best to keep his distance. 

He played the video games, anyway. 

Joel watched as things softened with you and Ellie in the week that followed and then, eventually, as he was having coffee before taking Ellie to school and you were sitting at the breakfast bar in the kitchen, reading something on your iPad while eating avocado toast with a cup of coffee - because of course you ate fucking avocado toast - she sat next to you, plopping her backpack down on the open chair on the other side of her. 

You set the iPad down gently and gave yourself the excuse to do it by using both hands to pick up the toast, taking a small bite and chewing slowly before picking up your coffee with both hands next so the iPad wasn’t a distraction. 

“So,” Ellie said eventually. “You have that movie coming out soon, right?” 

“I do,” you said, looking over at her and smiling just a little. 

“Probably have to go do all that promotional shit soon, huh?” She asked, brows raised. 

You nodded. 

“Next week,” you said. “You’re going to go stay with your grandmother while I’m back in LA.” 

She nodded slowly. 

“Are you going to be doing the TV shows and shit?” She asked. 

“Some,” you said. “Doing a few days of interviews for different outlets and then I’ll be on Jimmy Kimmel the day before the premiere.” 

“Remember that time you were the voice of the cartoon duck when I was little?” She asked, smiling bigger. “You brought me and Mom to the premiere?” 

You laughed a little. 

“Yeah, you didn’t want to wear a skirt then either,” you said. “You were like seven and you insisted on wearing jeans on the red carpet.” 

Ellie laughed, too. 

“I liked that movie,” Ellie said. “It was good.” 

“I’m glad,” you smiled at her. “I made it for you.” 

She smiled tightly, the two of you watching each other for a moment. 

“Maybe we can watch it together when you get back?” She asked. “Haven’t seen it in a while.” 

“Yeah,” you smiled. “I’d like to that.”

“Cool,” she said as Esmo set a breakfast sandwich in front of her.

Esmo gave Joel a look, a death glare that told him to keep his mouth shut lest he disturb the delicate dance happening at the breakfast bar as the two of you ate side by side in silence, neither of you looking at the other but also not at any phone or tablet. 

Eventually, when Joel knew he was going to have to get Ellie loaded into the car, she broke the silence. 

“Hey Sissy?” She said, looking at you hesitantly. 

“What’s up kiddo?” You asked, watching her with a gentle smile on your face. 

“I…” Ellie paused, looking to the side for a moment and taking a deep breath before facing you again. “It really fucking sucked when my mom died. Even though we knew it was coming it still really, really, really fucking sucked. But as bad as it was… I know it would have been a whole lot worse if you weren’t here. I’m really glad I’m not doing this shit on my own.” 

Even from his place near the coffee maker, Joel could see you starting to tear up as you reached out and cupped her cheek. 

“I’ll always be here for you,” you said, voice wet. “You’ll never be on your own.” 

“I know,” she said. “I just… wanted you to know. That I know.” 

You smiled. 

“Thanks, kiddo,” you said. “Have a good day at school, OK?” 

“Thanks,” she smiled. “Have a good day doing… whatever it is famous people do.” 

You snorted and Joel got Ellie to school, the uncomfortable tension that had been in the air in the house since the day of the fight fading. 

It was a relief for Joel, too. He tried not to think about why, instead deciding that he was happy that he didn’t need to try and tiptoe around you and Ellie anymore. He’d felt oddly uncomfortable, knowing that you were hurting. He found himself trying to avoid picking at you the way he usually did, any small, cruel pleasure he took from it nowhere to be found when he knew you were actually miserable. 

He wasn’t sure why he cared. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know why he cared. Now, things could go back to normal. 

And they did. Mostly. 

You still did the exact opposite of what he asked you to do whenever possible. You still went for coffee at the local coffee shop at least once a week, the one you’d gone to so much that Joel was certain the girl behind the counter knew who you were. You still went grocery shopping yourself. One day, when you apparently wanted to send him into a blind rage, you drove to a public park and got out of the car without saying a word. 

“Hey!” Joel yelled, jogging to catch up to you as you stretched a little, jogging in place as you did. 

“Yes, Big Miller?” You asked, brows raised, that stupid baseball cap that you pretended like protected you from everything under the sun pulled low over your face. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doin’?” He asked, his hands on his hips, jaw squared. 

“Going for a run,” you said, as though this were the most typical thing in the world. 

Which, if you weren’t the most famous woman in the world, it would be. That just wasn't the case. Not with you. 

“Not out in public you ain’t,” he said. “Back in the car. Now.” 

“Back in the car. Now,” you said, puffing your cheeks out mockingly. “No, I don’t think so. I don’t feel like running on a treadmill today, it’s finally not 115 degrees outside, I’m going for a run in the park. Keep up if you want, sit in the car if you don’t, it’s really no skin off my back either way.” 

You started at a jog down the path before Joel had a chance to argue. He just growled, following along behind you, sweating through his t-shirt and jeans and wishing he was in his gym shoes instead of his fucking work boots. He glared as he passed other people on the trail, each of them looking at him like he was some kind of crazy person. 

“See, was that so bad?” You asked, panting for breath, your skin covered in a sheen of sweat as you made it back to the car. He snatched the keys from your hand and stalked to the driver’s door as you laughed. “God, you’re so sensitive! Such a baby…” 

So the next day - when you decided to go to fucking Target in the middle of the afternoon after going to the dentist - Joel had had just about enough. 

“No,” he said as you pulled into the parking lot. “Absolutely not.” 

“Well that’s unfortunate for you,” you said, ignoring him and getting out of the car, anyway. 

But Joel was ready for you this time, catching you as you came around the trunk of your SUV, making you jump. “What are you… Hey!” 

He ignored you, looping an arm around your waist and forcing you back as you beat uselessly at his chest. He wrestled the back door open and forced you unceremoniously into the back seat before he climbed in the driver’s seat and pushed the button to activate the child locks. 

“What the fuck!” You protested, pulling helplessly at the door handle. 

“Act like a fuckin’ child and I treat you like a fuckin’ child,” he said. “No reason for you to go to fucking Target. Already went to the store this week, don’t need any more of this shit from you.” 

“You realize that I pay you, right?” You snapped, leaning between the driver and passenger seats to scowl at him. “I’m literally your boss, you can’t just manhandle me into my own fucking car because you’re in a mood!” 

“Actually, pretty sure your manager signs the checks to my brother’s business,” Joel said, fighting the urge to smirk about it. “Studio, too. Think that makes them my boss, not you. Besides, I’m paid to worry about your safety which means I don’t gotta listen to you.

“You’ve been lucky that no one has really noticed that you live here yet but all it takes is one asshole with their goddamn cell phone camera out sharing your photo to one of those damn magazines and you’ll get swarmed everywhere you go,” he continued. “That what you want? These idiots following you everywhere? Following Ellie everywhere? You want your damn stalker showing up at your door?” 

You sat back in a huff, crossing your arms and glaring out the window. 

“Then maybe you should fucking listen to me,” he said. “Know what I’m talking about.” 

“Such an asshole,” you muttered and Joel smirked. 

This relationship with you he knew. This, he could handle. 

But he still found himself walking a strange line with you as the two of you worked on your fight skills together. Spending a few hours with you every day, showing you how to move your body, your body that was barely covered by those tight little gym outfits. He might loathe those as much as he loathed needing to be around you. 

Because, when all was said and done, he couldn’t ignore the fact that you were the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. It was disorienting, even after being around you as much as he was, to see you and recognize that you were real, that you really were just that beautiful. 

It wasn’t even that he was attracted to you, he told himself, the fact that you were beautiful was just a fact. Anyone could see it, even him in his deadened state. The fact that his heart beat faster when your hand brushed his skin was just biology. He was just a man, of course he’d have some sort of physical reaction around someone who looked like you. 

He tried not to think about needing to be in close quarters with you in new territory over the next few days, about what strange feeling he’d been sure was long dead would awaken in him then. 

At least he could still put you through your paces. 

Joel came home from picking up Ellie just as the car taking the two of you to the airport pulled up outside. Joel loaded his bags into the trunk of the car, waving off the pushy chauffeur as you herded Ellie to the car with all her bags. 

“And you have the charger for your Switch?” You asked, your arm around Ellie’s shoulders. 

“Yes,” Ellie rolled her eyes. 

“And your laptop for school?” You asked. “Because you can’t get out of homework just because you don’t have it…” 

“I have it,” she said. “And I have like 20 pairs of clean underwear and a toothbrush and…” 

“And your phone?” You asked. 

She looked at you, incredulous. 

“Duh.” 

You laughed and gave her a squeeze. 

“Alright,” you said. “Let’s get you dropped off so me and Big Miller can get out of here.” 

Ellie snorted. 

“Yeah, you and Big Miller need to go do movie star shit,” she said, getting in the back of the car with you, Esmo giving her bags to the chauffeur. “Don’t want to hold up such important things.” 

“Alright, Siren,” Joel said. “Let’s go.” 

The three of you went to Ellie’s grandmother’s house and she almost tackled her, you getting out and greeting her with a warm hug, too. 

“Hey Mom,” you smiled. “Thanks for taking our trouble maker here.” 

“Try and stop me from hanging out with my favorite granddaughter,” she smiled. 

“I’m your only granddaughter,” Ellie rolled her eyes but smiled all the same. 

“Have time to come in for a few?” She asked. “Introduce me to this tall, dark and handsome man you brought to my door? I’m Elise, by the way.” 

“Oh that’s just Big Miller,” Ellie said, smirking. 

“Big Miller?” She frowned down at her before looking at you. “What’s a Big Miller?” 

“He’s the security guard I mentioned before,” you said. “And I’m afraid we have a plane to catch.” 

“Don’t they wait for you these days?” She teased. 

“Not when you fly commercial,” you teased a little back. “But I’ll be back in a few days. Let me know if you need anything.” You turned your attention to Ellie. “Behave yourself, alright?” 

“She always behaves,” Elise said. “Which is why I get to load her up with sugar before she goes home.” 

“Hell yeah!” Ellie said before looking back to you. “I’ll be good, Sissy. Promise.” 

You seemed satisfied but were still slow to get back in the car, giving another final round of hugs before getting back in. 

“Directly to the airport, ma’am?” The chauffeur asked. 

“Please,” you said, watching out the window as Ellie and Elise headed into the house. 

Joel found himself checking on you in the rearview mirror as you made your way to Intercontinental in Houston, a recommendation of Joel’s you’d actually heeded. 

“It’s a bigger airport,” he’d said. “Less likely for people to notice you and, if they do, they got no reason to think you live in Austin. Extra layer of security.” 

You did your makeup - something he didn’t like noticing - and then kept mouthing words to yourself as you kept your nose buried in an iPad. 

“What are you doin’?” He asked eventually and you looked up, your eyes meeting his in the mirror and he tried to ignore how fucking pretty you were when your makeup was done. Didn’t seem possible that you could get any damn prettier but of course you found a way. 

“Trying to get off book for the chemistry reads I have tomorrow morning,” you said. 

Joel frowned and twisted around to face you. 

“The fuck does that mean.” 

You smiled a little and he felt a twinge in his chest, one he resented. 

“It means I want to have my lines memorized before I need to read them with some people who are kind of auditioning tomorrow,” you said. “It’s not required or expected but I like being able to really focus on the person I’m working with and be a good scene partner. There are a few up and comers, it can be intimidating being in a room and reading with someone like me. I want to make sure they’ve got everything I can give them to do well.” 

He just grunted, facing forward again as you got closer to the airport. He hated when you did shit like that, something that seemed kind and thoughtful. He didn’t want to think of you as that type of person, it made him uncomfortable and it was worse when he knew he was about to be closer than usual to you over the next few days. It was easier to keep his distance from you when you were a spoiled brat. When you were nice or observant or, heaven forbid, vulnerable, he was keenly aware of the effect you had on him, on the way he wanted to look at your too perfect face and feel your fingers on his skin. It was an effect he needed to get over. You were a job. Nothing more. 

There was a team of people waiting for you at the airport, half a dozen of them damn near swarming the car as the driver pulled up to the curb. 

“So it begins,” you said, an ominous note in your voice before you plastered a smile on your face as someone opened the door for you. 

The team ushered you through the process of getting you into the airport quickly, apparently desperate to avoid the disruption that would come with your presence if you were noticed. Your bags had been sent ahead earlier in the day and someone in a suit took your tote bag with your iPad and laptop and book and rushed it ahead to security as someone else finalized both you and Joel’s check in on the flight. 

“I got a firearm in that bag,” Joel said as someone took his luggage from him. He turned to someone in a suit next to him, one who was paying far more attention to you than to him. “Hey, that OK? They hear me about the gun? Really don’t want to get to fuckin’ California and not have my side arm…” 

“I’ll make sure there are no issues,” the man said, giving Joel a tight smile 

They moved both of you to the front of the TSA line, the check seeming more cursory than anything for you, at least. They still gave Joel a full pat down, one that strayed a little too close to his crotch than he was pleased with, giving the agent a death glare until they pulled their hand away. Then, in another flurry of people in suits, the two of you were ushered into one of the fancy fucking airport lounges Joel had always walked past but never even dreamed of going inside, tucking you away in a private corner with a reserved sign on the table, a server immediately rushing to take your order. The whole process took maybe 10 minutes, you with a glass of white wine as you folded yourself back into the corner of the couch, settling in with your iPad in your hand again. 

Joel scoffed derisively. This shit was almost heaven sent, a reminder of just how easy life was for someone like you. Exactly the thing he needed to remember that you weren’t just some pretty face, that it must be easy to be fucking nice when everyone was waiting on you hand and foot all the time. 

“Yes?” You asked, brows raised as you lowered the tablet. 

“It always that easy for you?” He asked. “Just everyone takin’ care of all the hard shit, no lines, no dealing with authorities, just stroll right on through?” 

You laughed a little, shaking your head. 

“It’s easy here because no one was looking for me,” you said. “Wait until we get to LAX, then we’ll talk.” 

“What makes you think it’ll bad?” He asked. 

“Well, someone on the flight is going to notice me,” you said. “They always do. They’ll tweet about it, probably with a picture they didn’t ask my permission to take, and then half the paparazzi in LA will show up, ready to catch me looking tired and cranky after a flight because I haven’t given them shit in months and, unfortunately, my picture sells.” 

“And it’s really gonna be that quick,” he said, skeptical, his brows raised. 

“Oh, definitely,” you said. “And it’ll be like that the whole time I’m in LA, there will always be a photographer right on my ass, all day every day. Quinn tipped them off to a few places I’ll be so they will hopefully calm down otherwise but yeah, it’ll get crazy. The good news is, the people in LA are used to it. They see movie stars every day. There will always be a few tourists or super fans who come up but it’s not too bad, just the photographers are rough.” 

He nodded slowly, processing. He’d worked closely with Tommy in the week leading up to this, coordinating with a security team in LA. You’d have a driver, other people besides him on hand in situations that might be dicey or where more people would know where you were but Joel was still going to be your body man. He just wasn’t sure exactly what to expect once he was on the ground. He’d never dealt with paparazzi, at least not in fucking Los Angeles. 

You finished working on your lines after a while, putting your iPad aside and just looking around the small parts of the lounge you could see from the corner where they’d put you. 

“Can I ask you somethin’?” Joel asked after a while, curiosity nagging at him. 

“Sure,” you shrugged, trying not to look taken aback. “What’s up?” 

“Ellie’s grandma,” he said slowly, trying to figure out how to word it. “Seems like you’re closer to her than your mother.” 

“That’s because I am,” you said. “And that wasn’t a question.” 

He gave you a look and you laughed once. 

“I guess I was just… I didn’t know why that was,” he said. “Was wondering.” 

You considered Joel for a moment. 

“This falls under your NDA,” you said. “Just so we’re clear.” 

“Course,” he said. 

“Do you know much about my career?” You asked, adjusting in your seat as you did. 

He shrugged. 

“A little. Know you’ve got an Oscar for some movie I never fuckin’ saw. Know that show you were on, Siren, of course.” 

You nodded slowly. 

“Well, I was ‘discovered’ when I was five,” you said. Joel’s brows shot up. “I was in line at the grocery store with my mother and a modeling agent saw me there. According to her, he practically signed me on the spot and I started working right away. I don’t remember it well. The work was just catalogue at first, nothing crazy. Then I started doing commercials… by the time I was seven I was on my first TV show.” 

Joel frowned at that. 

“What show?” 

“That sitcom Family Tree?” You said it like it was a question. “It aired in the 90s and the early 2000s, I was the precocious baby of the family. Cute, smart ass, that sort of thing.” 

“Oh shit,” Joel laughed. “That was you? Jesus, I remember watching that show with my parents…” 

You smiled a little. 

“Yeah, that was me,” you said. “My first big job. I met Elise and Anna, Ellie’s mom, on that job. Elise was the tutor for the kids on the show, we basically had our own little school with the five of us. She brought Anna to set one day and we hit it off… Anyway, the point of this is, my mother was my manager. I was on that show for 10 years and I was doing movies, too. My mother was in charge of all of it. She handled my contracts, publicity, all the money… that was the real problem.

“She stopped seeing me as her daughter pretty early, I think,” you continued. “Probably hard to see the person making you rich as your child, not when all you want is to get more money. More, more, more, she was never happy with it. She would throw me at any job that was offered as long as it paid, no real direction to my career for years, not until I started to be old enough to have some of my own damn artistic vision. But… well, she handled the money, every cent I made and boy did she handle it, handled it right out the door.” 

“Jesus,” Joel blinked back his shock. 

You shrugged. 

“I figured out what was going on when I was about 14,” you said. “By then, I’d been working almost 10 years and I didn’t have a damn penny to show for it. In fact, I owed the IRS a shit ton of money because she hadn’t paid taxes, either. It was a disaster because I was suddenly without a manager, penniless, in a legal shit show and I needed to find someone else to be my guardian because lord knew I couldn’t stay with my mother after that. I tried to make a go of it on my own - I thought it would have been easier, it felt like I’d been taking care of myself for long enough anyway - but, when I was through the worst of the financial stuff, I went to live with Elise.” 

You laughed a little and Joel wasn’t sure why, none of this shit was funny. 

“She was so pissed at first,” you said. “She didn’t say it at the time, of course, she didn’t tell me any of this until I was in my 20s but she was furious I hadn’t come to her right away. She’d already been looking out for me more than my mother ever did, she seemed to know that my mother wasn’t doing anything to take care of me. She had me spend the night with Anna all the time, she was always checking to make sure that I was safe on set - more than I can say for a lot of other kids who have worked in this industry, let me tell you. She was always there for me. I just was afraid that, if she took me in when I had nothing at all, she’d somehow end up on the hook for all the money my mother and I owed everyone. I did an action movie with some stupid, bloated budget when they needed some smart alec teenager to play the kid of the hero and waited for that check to clear. It was enough to cover almost everything I needed to pay back and then I felt like it was OK to go to her and tell her everything. So, as far as I’m concerned? Elise is my mom. The woman who gave birth to me just happens to share my DNA and not much else. I’ll take care of her, check in on her, make sure she has everything she needs for a comfortable life, but that’s it. She is not my mom.” 

Joel watched you for a moment, just processing. Without meaning to, he pictured Sarah at 14 - just a year before she’d died - and she was still a kid, just a kid. He pictured her trying to navigate a world that was cold and cruel and cared nothing for her safety without anyone to help her and his blood got hot, his fingers clenching a little tighter, his jaw setting a little firmer. 

You frowned at him, cocking your head at him as though he were a curiosity. 

“What?” 

“Nothin’,” he said eventually, sitting back in his chair and looking back out at the room, watching for potential threats against the shockingly human thing that was you. “Just didn’t expect that is all.” 

Someone came and got the two of you for the flight, when boarding was winding down and you wouldn’t need to stand there and wait with all the other mere mortals and Joel was able to tuck that odd feeling down low inside him again. It didn’t matter that you’d once been a vulnerable kid hung out to dry, you’d clearly done just fine for yourself. He didn’t need to think about you that way. It wouldn’t make a difference now, anyway. 

The two of you were seated in the front row and, for the first 20 minutes or so of the flight, Joel started to think that you might have been wrong. You’d kept your head down and folded yourself into the window seat as quickly as possible, not giving anyone much of a chance to look at your face. Maybe no one would really notice you, maybe you would be able to make it out of the airport on the other side with no one the wiser. 

And then some asshole heading back to his seat from the bathroom froze, his jaw dropping when he saw you. 

“Holy shit,” he breathed. 

You smiled a small, almost amused smile. 

“Hi,” you said. 

“You���re not…” he said, looking around the rest of first class like he might have been crazy. The man across the aisle for Joel leaned forward, peering around him as he frowned. 

“Afraid so,” you scrunched your nose in a way that Joel was sure was meant to cute and charming and probably was to everyone else but, to him, it was just enraging. 

“Holy shit,” he said again, stepping in front of Joel as if he wasn’t there at all. “I loved you in Fast Track! That one chase sequence where you were driving backwards was so cool, how did they do that? I read you did your own driving, is that true?” 

“I did some of my own driving,” you laughed lightly. “But I didn’t drive much there, we had a stunt driver that actually faced backwards in the car and drove when we were in reverse. I did drive the forward facing parts of that sequence, though. I’m glad you liked it.” 

“Can I get a selfie?” The guy asked, already pulling out his phone before you even had a chance to say no. “My best friend is in love with you, he’s going to freak out, he had your poster on the wall of our dorm freshman year.” 

Joel was about to tell him to fuck off but you were unbuckling your seat belt. 

“Sure,” you said, getting up and standing next to him so he could take the picture. You smiled and looked far more beautiful than anyone sitting on a plane had any right to be and Joel gritted his teeth. “What’s your name?” 

“Sean,” he said, still looking at you like he wasn’t sure you were real. 

“Lovely to meet you, Sean,” you said. “Tell your friend I said hi.” 

He went back to his seat and you sat back down and Joel couldn’t help but notice the way your fingers tightened on the end of the arm rest, as though you could dig your nails into the plastic if you just tried hard enough. It was the only indication that anything was wrong. If he hadn’t been around you so much over the last few weeks, he’d never have noticed but now, it seemed impossible not to. 

Sean, it seemed, opened the floodgates. People started cautiously approaching, all talking to you, all awed by you, all asking for selfies that you obliged with a smile. You answered questions patiently, signed napkins, took a video where you said hi to someone’s wife. All the while, Joel ground his teeth while people damn near sat on his lap while they waited to get a moment with you. 

Eventually, a flight attendant got fed up and made an announcement. 

“Everyone, we understand that we have a high profile passenger on board,” she said. “While I’m sure this is very exciting for some of you, we still need to maintain safe travel conditions while in route to Los Angeles. Please remain seated with your seatbelts fastened so flight attendants can do their jobs and you’re not hurt by unexpected turbulence. Thank you.” 

Joel could have kissed her as everyone reluctantly made their way back to their seats and you visibly relaxed, leaning your head back and closing your eyes, taking a deep breath as you did. 

“You alright?” Joel asked, keeping his voice low. 

You opened one eye, looking at him quizzically before closing it again. 

“Fine,” you said. “Just ready to get to LA.” 

Joel kept his eyes and ears open the rest of the flight, hearing your name come up in hushed whispers from all around them. He heard the snap of a cellphone camera shutter and looked around, glowering, for the culprit but never spotted them. Joel searched your name on Twitter. You were trending, pictures of you being rushed through airport security earlier and from the plane everywhere while everyone under the sun tried to figure out what the fuck you’d been doing in Houston, Texas, to begin with. 

When the plane landed, the flight attendant let you and Joel off first to avoid the threat of chaos as you made your way quickly toward arrivals. 

But you paused, just shy of the end of the secured area, staring it down the sliding doors as though they were an opponent. 

“We doin’ this or not?” Joel asked, probably gruffer than he should have. 

“We are,” you said, not looking at him. “I’m just… saying goodbye to the quiet life I’ve had the last few months. I’m going to miss it.” 

You didn’t wait for him to respond. Instead, you just made for the security doors, greeted by a sea of cameras as the chaos of your existence in Los Angeles welcomed you home. 

Next Chapter

A/N: Thank you for being patient with this series! I've started graduate school so everything I care about seems to get put on the back burner anymore. I hope you enjoyed it, anyway.

This LA arc I am SUPER excited for. Get ready to learn so so SO much more about Siren and Joel both as things ramp up in the City of Angels.

Also, sending some love to one of my besties (who does NOT read my fic but does know I write it) who answered the arbitrary questions I had about the Houston airports. She's the best.

Thank you for choosing to spend your time with my work! Love you!

Taglist: @christinamadsen @eff4freddie @brittmb115 @copperhalfcent @r3dheadedwitch @pedropascalsbbg @lovelyjess69 @yopossum @moel-jiller @picketniffler @lilyevanstan1325 @reluctanthalfwayoptimism @wintersquirrel @missladym1981 @mellymbee @canthinkof1user

[mizusnose]

An Orange for My Love

mizu x reader June heat

hello again. been a while, huh? life’s been busy and moving fast. here’s a little something to make up for it. more writing in the future i hope. send in some requests :)

———

The heat of June makes you sweat around the edges of your hairline. You can feel the dry heat stick to your skin and cover you like a thin sheen of fabric. It’s suffocating and the AC unit has broken down, and now the windows are thrown open despite Mizu’s assurance that she felt fine. You knew she didn’t.

Somehow, the work you’d both been doing had sludged fo a stop, fragmented bits of your productivity melting off with each minute of the summer heat.

You glance Mizu’s way, a tired lazy grin on your face. She’s wearing huge basketball shorts that go past her knees when she stands up fully. The ones you bought her from the thrift store in town. Her wrists and arms and shoulders are out. Covered only by the chunky tank top that dips low and shows off her collarbones, freckled and red from the heat. Your thirst only grows as she smiles lazily back at you.

“Floor time?” You ask, unsurprised by Mizu’s eye roll.

“Fifteen minutes tops. Gotta get some stuff in.”

“Lame.”

“That’s adulthood” Mizu shrugs, slipping down past the coffee table and scooting off your thrifted carpet.

“Adulthood sucks” You sigh, meeting Mizu’s gaze once you’re both on the floor. You stretch your arm out and tip your fingers towards Mizu. There’s a patch of sun making its way towards you both, but not quite there yet. It creates a halo glow around Mizu’s body. Her hair staticky and frizzed from the humidity.

Time passes like this: you both drifting in and out of bird song and breezes that shift the tree leaves. Eventually, Mizu stands and groggily makes her way to the kitchen.

“what’re ya doin’” you mumble, too heat-soaked to properly pronounce.

Silence. Only the sound of a drawer opening and closing, the clatter of plates, and Mizu sniffling.

You don’t bother following. Content to stay put and not do anything until nightfall when the cicadas become silent and the air thins out to see the stars overhead.

Mizu’s foot pokes you in the side and you’re met with her long limbs and longer hair that she’s adjusted into a bun.

“Up. Eat.”

You listen only because Mizu sits next to you and helps you up. Her touch burns hot and you blame the weather, the season. Anything but the thunder in your chest, a quiet frenzy in your bones.

“Oranges.” You declare. Like a little kid learning colors and shapes. Mizu nods proudly regardless of the childlike wonder.

The thick orange slices are washed and cleaned, their skin ripped to reveal the glisten of the fruit. Color like sunset and lava, you take a bite and hum appreciatively.

Mizu sets the plate between you. This way, its thigh, plate, thigh. The glass the only thing separating you both.

“Good?”

You nod, swallowing quickly to answer: “Farmers market?”

Mizu nods, taking one for herself.

The sun spot that had started at the edge of the wall is now sitting cozily on Mizu’s hip. It splashes up her ribs and dips to her bellybutton. It’s undoubtedly hot, yet Mizu says nothing. Instead, she rips the skin of the orange slice off decisively, suddenly licking into the fruit.

It’s no use. She’d pulled too hard and the juice runs down her arm and collects at her elbow, into the crease of it. It catches the light and you start to stare as it drips onto Mizu’s basketball shorts.

“Shit—let me..”

And her lips are back to the fruit, a sharp suck sounds and mizu hums as she rips the skin away and eats the entirety of the orange slice. The juice only multiplies and is now creating a small puddle on the fabric of her shorts. It stays for a second before soaking into the cloth.

“Sorry. Messy.” Mizu jokes, lifting her arm and licking the juice off, starting from the elbow to her fingers. She sucks the rest of the juice from her fingers and wide palms. The sound makes you shiver despite the bead of sweat making its way down the center of your back.

“All good. Oranges are a mess—uh, messy. They’re messy. Not your fault at all!”

You fear Mizu will finally find out about your feelings for her because of an orange of all things. Yet, when you meet her eyes, they’re closed. Crinkled in a bright smile.

“I’m glad you liked it.”

The summer heat doesn’t die down for a while after that. But even when the night arrives, your cheeks still burn and your blood runs hot.

[destiny-smasher]

(Nemona getting totally blown off and stonewalled once again and trying to shrug it off once again, she's so determined! </3)

Since people on the Internet get fussy with this shit, let me state upfront these are my opinions, from the perspective of someone who shares a lot of personality traits in common with Nemona and used to be a lot like her in my younger years. Nemona's lying when she says Scarlet's behavior and needless secrecy doesn't bother her at all. She keeps enduring the neglect (and sometimes straight up abuse), because she thinks that's what Scarlet needs atm. It's hard to say how things will pan out atm imo.

The manga mischaracterizes Nemona in some ways for me -- or I guess it's more proper to say, I do not think the way the manga characterizes Nemona is as positive as the games. The manga so far really makes her out to be less mature, less healthy mentally/emotionally, and kind of a pushover who actively lets others step all over her. I don't prefer it lol

She experiences an 'invisible wall' between herself and everyone else. And Scarlet's behavior so far in PokeSpe would only exacerbate that -- BUT, the two could clearly have a very meaningful bonding if they both stick things through, in a way the game version of Nemona doesn't because the story forces the protag to more just go along with everything.

I want to believe the manga will eventually have Nemona learn to adapt to Scarlet, Scarlet slowly open herself up to Nemona over time, start doing GOOD for her in return, and heaven forbid, maybe even apologize for mistreating Nemona -- though I don't expect the latter for sure.

It can be very exhausting and draining to endure what Nemona is enduring, but if you have that determination and willpower to put up with someone's worse traits because you see the good in them, sometimes it's good to use that to be there for the other person.

Everyone's struggles are unique and people exhibit their flaws in different ways. Nemona is "too much" and Scarlet pushes back in hostile ways. Their personalities are potentially toxic for one another, tbqh, but there's so much value imo in them bridging that gap.

The core of most fictional relationships I genuinely care about and many of my real life ones is the idea of bridging the understanding gap, through communication and gestures and time spent together, where there is mutual growth and reassurance.

Because of how I've been mistreated in the past, it's REALLY difficult for me to look at Nemona/Scarlet even just as friends and not be very worried about them. They're not self-aware yet, much less mature enough to navigate their differences. But they COULD be.

Many of the most edifying and growth-defining relationships of my life were due to stark differences in personality being reconciled with mutual care, assurance, trust, and just plain holding on. I think these two can totally reach that. I just don't know if they WILL here.

Because the fact is, Scarlet's behavior is hurtful. She clearly has reasons she is this way, and sometimes you just gotta get that shit out. And having people strong enough to endure that shit can be valuable, even if you don't realize it at the time. But it's a fine line.

Scarlet seems to be dealing with mental health issues, or at the least neurodivergency -- and Nemona at least has the latter going on, too. That creates a lot of tension. But that also means they can be there for each other in a meaningful way if they can work that shit out.

At the current rate they're going, however, Scarlet's behavior isn't improving so far. It's like she just gets to be a jerk and 'get away with it' and everyone is supposed to be fine with that? Doesn't settle well with me, and Nemona sure doesn't deserve this treatment.

But at the same time, Nemona IS one of those rare people with the willpower and stubborn determination to keep being there for Scarlet in spite of things not going well for a while -- even a long while. She sees the good in Scarlet even if Scarlet doesn't.

The manga has NOT done much at all so far to sell us on Scarlet/Nemona working out even just as friends, but it feels deliberate how their dynamic has been set up. So I want to have hope there, but it does remind me a bit too much of stuff from my past, so I get trepidatious.

In a way, part of Operation Comet Punch (my long fic) entails exploring that very trepidation and (I hope) coming up with at least one 'version' of reconciling things in a healthy, mutually supportive way for everyone involved (and that goes beyond just Nemona and Scarlet).

I hope the manga can figure out ways to do this, too. Because I like the idea of Nemona and Scarlet at least becoming good friends over time. It's just difficult to see right now if you're being pragmatic.

"Desma this is a manga primarily targeting middle school boys wtf are you talking about"

Look, between my own fanfic about these characters and my real life experiences, I can't help but analyze and try to be optimistic on all fronts. I get triggered a bit by 'toxic yuri' and this is reminding me of that, but I want to believe in it EVOLVING beyond that (pun intended). And I know it can.