#I never feel listened to when it comes to bigger situations with her. which is why I usually come to my dad for these sort of things.

[bowlofr1ce]

Stuff has been on my mind lately. And I can’t stop thinking about it.

I am giggling and kicking my legs that something I’ve been waiting over a year and a half for will be releasing soon. Every time I ask my friends “should I go for it?” And they always responded with “wait” and it’s just been like this every single time. And it’s finally happening.

But then in the back of my mind I hear “are you sure you really want to do this?” “it’s a lot of money. and your current employment is in jeopardy.” And then I tell that voice “I have been waiting for months! I have been waiting! For SO LONG! And I am SICK! AND TIRED! OF WAITING!” But then that voice retaliates “THINK about the money though! THINK about what mom and dad would think.” And that immediately halts me in my track. This is something I’ve been waiting a long, long time for. It’s a large scale investment that I’m willing to make with my own hard earned money. And yet. I fear that they’ll think I just sunk a lot of money on another toy. It’s not a toy, it’s basically a console. It’s the equivalent of buying a Switch 2 or a PlayStation 6 or something that will be in the future! But I’m scared. It’s fricking half a grand. I have the ability to spend that sort of money. I have the security to spend that sort of money. But I’m scared to make the leap. I’m scared of, well, spending money. And my parents, who usually make really good financial decisions, they might judge me because I indulged in something that I’m interested in. And it’s not what I’m interested in that’s the problem. It’s the cost that’s the problem. If I were to ask dad if I should go for the older, soon-to-be-irrelevant, cheaper option or the newer, more future proof, yet more expensive option, dad would probably say to go for the newer one.

Thing is I don’t know if they know this is something I want to do. I’m scared of how they’ll react if I suddenly said “hey! I wanna spend $500!” Like it’s something I just came up on the spot. Like no! This is something I’ve been thinking about and researching for years, and I decided that this is something I will be doing since over last year, and now this year, I am deciding to take that leap! But I’m still scared. I’m scared of the loss of money, and my current employment situation not looking good at the moment now that college kicked in. I’m scared of my parents who i feel should be okay if I explain myself about this but he problem is that they don’t give me a chance to speak. And especially mom if she has her mind on something it’s hard to take her mind off of that. (I.e. if she thinks you did something wrong, that means that you did something wrong, even if you didn’t do anything. And you can’t explain yourself either. I told this to mom that we should be able to explain herself but she basically dismissed that saying “explaining yourself won’t fix things. If you explain yourself with ‘oh, I needed money’ after robbing a bank, that doesn’t make what you did okay” LIKE??? THIS AND THAT ARE COMPLETELY DIFFERENT SITUATIONS!!)

I suppose the only thing that will stop me from making this leap when it’s possible isn’t the money, but the fear of judgement and disapproval from my parents from doing so. And unfortunately, I’ve come to realize that this dictated most of the decisions I made in life.

[cocteaucherry]

another silly gojo thing I wrote with pregnant reader (I was inspired by Kali’s pregnancy announcement 🩷)

a/n- (I promise pt 3 of LTLM is coming out later today or tomorrow)

cw- pregnancy, talks of sexual situations, gojo being gojo :p

The day Satoru found out you were pregnant was a day you’ll never forget.

It was a freezing morning in January and you had just finished taking down the Christmas decorations (yeah it was a few weeks after Christmas but you both were lazy) you let out a huff wiping your hands as you stared at the old cardboard boxes that housed the glittery decorations, it made you feel more emotional than usual seeing yet another year pass.

You heard the door burst open and you turned to find your husband dragging in a bunch of wires and lights, “ six hundred twinkling lights taken down by your one and only!” He exclaimed, dropping the lights and using his foot to close the door, “you sure? I could’ve sworn I heard you on the verge of using Hollow Purple.” You said playfully as you gazed lovingly at your husband.

“What?! No! I was of course gonna take you out of the house first!” The blue eyed male chuckled as he walked towards you immediately wrapping his arms around your waist, “I think I deserve a kiss for my bravery and perseverance.” He hummed his hands running over the slight pudge in your stomach, “Do you really?” You peered up at his face to be met with a very shocked expression, you chuckled nervously staring at his over exaggerated face.

Gojo could tell something was off for the past few days, frequent bathroom trips, slight nausea in the morning and your missed period. (He might be the strongest but he’s not the smartest) and now your cursed energy was changing he sensed it when he walked in it was almost doubled. “I mean this is the BEST way possible, let me stress BEST, are you somehow maybe- just a little bit ermm.. pregnant?”

Your mind went blank at the question, “Maybe?” You shrugged your shoulders, “it would make sense..” your mind tried to calculate the last time you and Gojo were intimate but Gojo calculated for you, “Christmas.” He said his mouth was still wide open, “yeah , maybe wrapping myself like a present wasn’t the best idea.” You giggled and Satoru was quick to retort with a red face, “you practically had nothing on! You can’t blame me!” Gojo pouted, rubbing the back of his neck, “can we go buy some tests to confirm your theory?”

About seven tests later it was confirmed, you were pregnant.

Of course tears and hugs were shared and you wanted to share the news with your friends but Gojo stopped you claiming he wanted to see how long you both could go unnoticed, he also opted to buy a camcorder to track your happy moments. It was more of a nostalgia thing. (Even while you're pregnant he’s still dramatic.)

By the time you were breaching your second trimester a lot of things changed, for worse and better, the spare room in your house was converted into a full baby room, all constructed by gojo himself since he was terrified of you getting injured. The baby room was filled with expensive baby materials and toys, “Satoru.. are you sure this isn’t too much?” You stared at the room in disbelief, your hand stroking your bump, He grunted, placing a heavy box with more materials down, “What? Think I can go bigger?” He winked and opened the package.

“We don’t even know the gender yet? you yelled walking down the hallway to lay down.

Everyone in Satoru’s life knew something was up, he walked with more pep in his step and glowed even more than he already was.

“So does anyone know what’s up with Gojo-sensei?” Yuji questioned sitting on his bed, Kugusaki and Megumi on the floor visibly not listening. “Don’t know, don’t really care either.” Megumi deadpanned which earned a grin from Kugisaki, “Not sure Yuuji, have you tried asking his wife?” she asked, peering from her phone. “She hasn’t been around here in like months!” The pink haired boy exclaimed failing to connect the dots but Megumi did for him.

“Maybe she’s expecting.” He shrugged it off going back to type on his phone, “What?! You mean they-they-“ yuuji stuttered.

“Yuuji they are adults, plus it would make sense right after the holidays too. So she’d be about.."Kugisaki counted in her head, “second trimester?”

“You guys are taking this a little too well?!” Yuuji exclaimed, “oh Kugisaki and I made our own theory a few weeks ago-“

“And you didn’t tell me?!-“

Later that day you had a teary eyed pink haired teenager yapping at the door about how you didn’t tell him sooner.

[punkpandapatrixk]

🥀Sad Bitch Lilith ♦︎ Timeless Pick A Card

We live in a world where being too kind, too sweet, too compassionate and forgiving could often lead to disastrous outcomes. This is after all a world where narcissists, sociopaths and psychopaths run free without much repercussion. A sweet girl can’t be pleasant all the time; a goddess needs to carry a machete from time to time.

What most people have yet to grasp, is that Venus and Lilith quite literally make each side of the Divine Femininity coin. Venus represents Light and Lilith represents Dark; even then, they could easily switch roles depending on the situation at hand. Only if you want—you are allowed to embody both Venus and Lilith in their respective glory.

Do you really want to become that kind of idiot who sends love and light to those who have done you much harm? You don’t have to force yourself to be the bigger person in a conflict that was created for the sole purpose of stripping you of power and autonomy. Enablers and gaslighters enforce that kind of idea so you make room for their terrible behaviour. WAKE. UP.

So many women in this world have at some point been a Sad Bitch Lilith at the hands of psychopaths, sociopaths and narcs in whatever role they play in their lives. Hopefully this reading serves to help you turn the narrative into SAVAGE LILITH. The Dark Moon Goddess who delights in revenge for she knows in it lies EDUCATION for the imbeciles who have foolishly disrespected her kind, sweet, friendly, feminine qualities. The Dark Feminine retorts,

‘RESPECT ME OR GET DESTROYED.’

Black Moon Lilith is a Goddess of Redemption. She takes into her own hands matters of delivering nightmare to those who have wronged her. She calculates in the dark. She doesn’t ask for permission. She's a wild woman. She punishes swiftly. She moves history.

She is Karma.

Karma paid in revenge glow up, BITCH🌹

SONG: I’ll Make You Cry by aespa

MOVIE: Gone Girl (2014)

[PAC Masterlist] [Part 1] [Part 3]

[Patreon] [Paid Readings]

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 1 – When My Tears Silently Turn to Diamonds

the way your beauty irritates people – 10 of Pentacles Rx

VIBE: I’m Unhappy by aespa

You’re somebody who’s perceived as abundant and superfluous by others. It’s super obvious from the way you look, the way you carry yourself, or even your family background. You just… exude a rich vibe—whether or not you actually come from old money. Damn, you just have it in you. It’s something you were born with. Even if you didn’t come from a rich background, or even if right now, for some reason you’re struggling with resources, no, honey, listen: it’s your fucking AURA.

People can see either you’re blessed since birth—with money, beauty, talents, whatever—or they simply can smell that you’re gonna make it big someday. Most people you’ve known in your environment, do not like this about you at all. It’s their own fault though, why in the name of fuck are they always comparing themselves to you? Did you ask for that? Never. But they’re always imagining how nice it would be in your shoes without knowing for realz your life story.

They project their insecurities at you even when you’ve never wanted to make anybody feel that way because of your presence. In many ways, I think you’ve tried so hard to make you look ordinary, or in some cases, you’ve tried to show a lot of care and generosity. You’ve tried to make everybody see that you’re just like them even if your circumstances are not exactly the same. It never worked though—maybe it’s even backfired.

Your abundance… is simply irritating to them because you’re surrounded by motherfucking losers, babe.

silencing the negative self-talk – XIX The Sun

VIBE: ASAP by NewJeans

You should be done feeling bad for being radiant. It’s not your fault other people are ugly. It’s not your responsibility that other people don’t have money. How are you at fault when a good company chooses you for the talents and skills you’ve developed which they need? Seriously, it’s none of your business if others wouldn’t work on themselves to be considered an amazing creature in society. You keep being you, honey. You and I know you’re always refining your natural talents and deepening your base knowledge. You’re truly a hustler even if others don’t see that.

When you’re not saddened or confused by others’ terrible attitude towards your blessings, your mindset is really positive like the Sun itself. Of all the Piles, I think your heart is the purest🤣You’re more generous than people give you credit for. You’re always trying to make everyone feel welcomed. If you were a party host, you’d make sure every single person has a good time in ways that suit them. You’re that attentive.

Unfortunately, your Light, indeed babe, seems to attract a lot of harmful bugs. No matter how much you give, it’ll never be enough and nothing you do will stop the gossip and badmouthing and backstabbing. Because essentially, these bottom-feeders are already bitter about their own pathetic lives. They hate you as much as they hate themselves for not having the courage to feel deserving of the abundance you’ve worked hard for.

S A V A G E – 4 of Wands

VIBE: Hurt by NewJeans

‘Leave them at the bottom of the grave they dug for you.’ – something I saw on Pinterest

Because you’re too kind, too giving, I think you’re the type of person who wouldn’t have the heart to leave people behind where they are miserable. Umm… you need to grow up a little bit more and finally see for yourself how pointless that is. You’re just one person, what makes you think you could save everybody? I hope you don’t yourself turn into a megalomania who thinks others wouldn’t survive without your charity.

Leave that toxic environment and you will regenerate yourself. As you do so, you become a vibrational match to some kind of a Soul Tribe situation where you’ll be met with people who aren’t the least bit parasitic. You’ve got to believe you’re deserving of a symbiosis mutualistic kind of relationships and friendships for them to manifest, OK?

As for the anklebiters? Hurt them with your leaving them. Hurt them with your totally ignoring and blocking them. I’m not saying you have to throw a brick at them for all the disrespect they’ve dealt on you. I’m sure your change of attitude will hurt the living shit out of them. And one day, when you’re famous and important, they’ll see you, alright. They’ll see you for all that you’ve always been capable of doing and they’ll regret they didn’t treat you better. And they’ll wallow in immense pain for not having access to you anymore. Nevermore. Leave them hurting in their shame and regrets. That’ll kill them😈

SWEET MOTHER OF REVENGE 🔻💙

VILLAIN ORIGIN STORY – Gold Physician (Herodotus)

Reclaiming Lilith – Priestess of Prosperity

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 2 – You See This Glow-Up? NOW You Jelly

the way your beauty irritates people – Knight of Wands Rx

VIBE: 28 Reasons by Seulgi

First and foremost, you’re a damn rare beauty. I don’t care if you don’t think that highly of your physical appearance; bitch, you’re goddamn attractive. Take it or leave it. Your problem is that you act like you’re ordinary and that irritates the living shit out of your enemies because they think you’re fake. ‘How dare you act ordinary when you’re obviously that pretty. Are you mocking us??’ Yeah… Why the fuck are you surrounded by ordinary beauties? Have you got Venus squaring Pluto? Huehue~

Anyway, in any situation you’re an eye candy and everybody can see that. Maybe you’re dense enough to not see how others see you, but all these friends of yours, they’re hyper aware of how all eyes are on you the moment you slightly move. You stir the air in a way no other human does. It’s because there’s passion and authenticity in you that make you vibrate on a much higher level than most people. Really, you’re a rare gem but this could get you in danger a lot.

You’re the type of beauty that invites enemies actually because of your friendly disposition. Like, there’s this annoying gap that irritates people in ways even they don’t really understand. The gap between your intense beauty/attraction and your general politeness. You’re soft spoken, cheerful and helpful. For the most part, you’re a ball of joy and if you’re a girl, boys like you A LOT. You’re fun. You’re cool. You’re smart and creative. A lot funnier than people assume. You’re the IT GIRL. But the envious ones call you a pick-me LMAO

Envious girls put a lot of effort into brandishing you as a trashy character but by doing that, even the boys could see who’s the real G here. And well, wouldn’t that annoy their trashy asses further?🤷🏻‍♀️They’re literally ruining their own image by trying to ruin you🤡

silencing the negative self-talk – 8 of Wands Rx

VIBE: Forgive Me by BoA

Now that that’s out of the way, let’s have a heart-to-heart. Honey, you’ve got to stop pretending like you’re a sweet Venus all the time. You’re not. You and I know that. Deep down, there’s an evil bitch in you that wants to play with fire. I think you’ve tried to curb your Lilith practically your entire Life. Perhaps on a subconscious level you know this of you and you want to avert your eyes from looking at your Lilith. That’s how you seem fake sometimes.

Highly intuitive people can smell the Devil in you, but you act like you’re an angel all the time. And that’s annoying because your Lilith is literally a men-magnet and this often takes away attention from other girls but you act all innocent💩I’m not saying it’s your fault—I sense that for the most part, you don’t even consciously want this intense attention; I’m saying there’s this mechanism about how you’re perceived by your environment.

Aaand why do you think that is? Of course, because subconsciously, you want all of this attention. You always want to be wanted and liked and desired. You crave that shit so bad because when you were tinier you felt unseen. Un-understood. Unappreciated. Now, doesn’t matter who or how, you just want everybody to see you and want you, but you’re not gonna give them back any of that attention. You want to be unattainable. Actually, you are unattainable. You don’t easily let people get close to you. You don’t want people in your personal space. You just want the a t t e n t i o n.

S A V A G E – 5 of Wands Rx

VIBE: Savage by aespa

You know, this is all just a lil game to you. Deep down, you’re fighting this urge to snatch everybody’s boyfriends and husbands. Sometimes you get frightened by your evil desires because if you were unhinged, you’d want all these married people to want you more than they want their spouses. It’s not even that serious. You just want to come on top of everybody. You’re secretly envious of these little bitches who are—probably—loved by their spouses. And even when you can see there’s no Love in that connection, you’re still jealous that someone wants to commit themselves to these undeserving mediocre asses.

You feel all alone in this world. People are only nice to you because of your looks or whatever else that’s not even that important. And people are also nasty to you because of your looks and everything else that’s not even that important. It’s been one insanely difficult Life for you. You’re sad. You feel abandoned and unwanted in spite of all the shallow praises. And there’s this quiet rage inside that wants to punish everyone for not caring about the REAL you.

Bitch, grow up a little bit and you’ll see that low-quality people get married to their fellow mediocre asses. You don’t play in the same dimension as them so don’t lower your standards🤭One day you’ll see who’s gonna end up divorced and miserable because they all married the wrong people! Nah, that’s not even the important part LMAO The important part is when you’re the one marrying a Soul Mate after all of your spiritual and psychological glow-up that made you a vibrational match to so much REAL LOVE and you’re surrounded by all this money and beauty.

You never needed their kind of a glow-up; you were born perfection. You needed a different kind of confidence to SLAY and be very happy.

SWEET MOTHER OF REVENGE 🔻❤️

VILLAIN ORIGIN STORY – Red Magus (Edward Kelly)

Reclaiming Lilith – Priestess of Happiness

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 3 – You Thought I’d Give It All to You

the way your beauty irritates people – 2 of Cups

VIBE: The Weekend by BIBI

You’re this absolutely weird mix of devil and angel in one body. You attract ALL kinds of people. Young, old. Men, women. Animals and toddlers are either terrified by you or LOVE you to oblivion. People always want something from you, right? They either simp for you or act like you owe them something—usually when their simping doesn’t pay off LMAO That’s really weird… Your entire existence is weird. I like that😉

You’re definitely giving, charitable, although in reality you’re really selective with whom you allow in your personal space. ‘Just because I’m friendly with you doesn’t mean I wanna be friends with you,’ kind of vibe. Nevertheless, people are silly, and they cultivate this weird intense desire within them. They build all these unnatural expectations around you having to give or share with them.

In their sick minds, they demand this. When you don’t humour them their sick demands, they get ULTRA bitter, probably even resentful. And then they seek to destroy you. Weird. Weird. Weird. You never even intended to lead them on. People are crazy when you’re around. The worst part is, they never even had your best interest at heart. They just wanted something from you—energy, attention, favouritism, gentle caress, who the hell cares.

How much Neptunian/Pisces/12th House energy do you have for you to be this way?😷HAHAH

silencing the negative self-talk – Page of Pentacles

VIBE: KAZINO by BIBI

Unlike the other Piles, you don’t seem to have a lot of neg self-talk. You’re sassy, bitchy, and you embrace your negative qualities because you see the value in them. Society ain’t perfect either anyway, what’s so wrong in being me the way that I am? You go, girlie~ You’re a total believer in revenge and vengeance. You ARE the definition of Lilith incarnate. Were you born with it? Did you develop yourself to be this way? Who the fuck knows—that’s your very own secret ingredient~

You’d rather let the mortals hurt and rot in their own stupidity than let yourself be the one to hurt. Unless you’re defending those you care about, you’re never sustaining hurt. You hurl lemons at all your enemies before they could get closer. Any step closer, you squirt that lemon in their eyes. Their fault. You warned them already! ‘Hey, I’m nice but I ain’t no saint,’ is your philosophy.

And when you’re really, really, really done with someone’s bullshit, you ain’t afraid to spill some blood. You’re gonna be smart about it though. You plan quietly and attack unexpectedly with a demonic angel smile on your face. ‘Send a message to your god; you’ve messed with the wrong bitch, BITCH.’

You are a menace to society👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻

S A V A G E – XII The Hanged Man Rx

VIBE: Vengeance by BIBI

See, you are one sneaky bitch. Though you are a fucking menace to society, you know how to act righteous. You also know how to act like the victim should the occasion arise—but this is rare because you like to appear on top of everyone. Still, you’re quite masterful at creating sad or horrendous backstories that would justify your wreaking havoc upon your enemies, or even just society at large. Your sense of morality is kinda shrewd LMAO And I think that’s because you’ve been at the mercy of someone else’s shrewd behaviour before, probably when you were a lot younger.

That made you realise you never wanted to be the victim anymore. If anything, you’ll terrorise everyone so you maintain your own safety. WHEW. You’ve got your trust broken in authority. Their rules didn’t protect you or even hurt you. So, you believe new rules should be made in their place. You make your own rules and you don’t care if that hurts some people. You have this dicktionary explaining what kinds of dickhead are worth sacrificing to your new-world agenda.

🤣🤣🤣You’re CRAZY!

I believe in you. I think you could change the world. But I think you’re largely only interested in your own world. The whole world? That’s too much trouble. You aren’t keen on destroying your small queendom/kingdom in exchange for world domination—you smart like that. Keep at that. WHOA.

SWEET MOTHER OF REVENGE 🔻🧡

VILLAIN ORIGIN STORY – Green Magus (John Dee)

Reclaiming Lilith – Priestess of Divination

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

[PAC Masterlist] [Part 1] [Part 3]

[Patreon] [Paid Readings]

[familyvideostevie]

HI! Can you do a grumpy!reader x sunshine!sirius black one shot😫

absolutely. i am a grumpy!reader stan, let me tell you, because i am her. okay, here we have kind of grumpy!reader and sunshine!sirius going on their first date | 1.1k <3

You're not nervous. You're not.

It's not like it's a blind date, anyway. You know Sirius Black. Kinda. Lily's the one who set you up, coordinated it all and assured you he's keen to go on a date. You're pretty sure you've spoken to him a few times at parties, been at the pub at the same time. You know what he looks like, at least. Hair that never gets brushed, rings in his ears and nose, a smile that seems mischievous and genuinely carefree at the same time.

He's not as measured as Remus, a bit less puppy dog than James. If you'd been asked in a silly gossipy way which of the trio you'd pick, it would be him.

You just don't want to hope too hard.

Though it's taken a while, you are perfectly aware of and secure in your value and personality. You are "a fucking catch," as Marlene often says, and even if she and your other friends didn't assure you of it, you'd think so. You're prickly, sure. You're quiet in most situations, preferring to observe and go home when you've had enough. You don't laugh much, don't tell jokes. You stand at the edge of the group because that's where you prefer to be.

It's okay that you're not everyone's cup of tea. People have told you before that you should talk more, you should be more present, you should do more things. You're fine as you are and anyone who thinks otherwise isn't worth your time.

So the fact that Sirius is a few minutes late doesn't bother you that much. The bar isn't super crowded and you're sat a pretty comfortable stool snacking on the olives the bartender put out when you arrived. If he doesn't show you'll just get a drink and read the book in your bag and go home and call Lily and you know she'll lay into him.

But just as you consider it, there's a warm hand on your shoulder and you turn to find the man in question grinning at you sheepishly. His name rolls off your tongue.

"I'm so sorry," he says. "Had to take the bus and obviously it wasn't on time. Can I hug you hello?"

You appreciate him asking. Something about you tends to put people off of touch, though you don't usually mind it. "Hi, Sirius," you say, standing to give him a squeeze. He's warm and smells like tobacco and mint, like he popped one on his way over.

"Have you been here before?" He peels off his leather jacket and sits next to you, signaling for the bartender. "Do you want a drink?"

"Yes, and yes," you say. "The Sex on the Beach is quite good."

His eyebrows rise to his hairline and he grins. You keep your face neutral. "Not what I would have picked for you," he muses. "But I trust you." He asks the bartender for two.

"What would you have picked for me?" You pop an olive into your mouth.

Sirius thinks on it. "Stout pint," he says. "Or whiskey." His gaze very quickly travels the length of you as much as he can, sitting so close. "You look lovely, by the way."

That almost gets you to smile. "You do, too," you say instead. "Is that a new earring?" You reach for it without thinking but he doesn't flinch away. A gold star dangles from his right ear instead of the hoop you remember him having last time you saw him.

His grin gets impossibly bigger. How is that he can smile every second of every day? "So glad you noticed, love," he says. "It sure is. It's got a story, too. Something you might not know about me is --"

He talks and talks and talks. Your drinks come and he tells you the story and then another one and you find that you don't mind listening. It feels like Sirius is talking to you, not at you, even though it's clear he could charm a brick wall. He doesn't seem to mind that you only nod or make affirmative noises rather than chime in or laugh, answering his questions for you in just a few words. He just seems to want your attention, which he certainly has.

"And then James genuinely looked at me and said I thought they were the same thing."

The story is funny, sure, but Sirius's own laughter at his joke makes you smile. You feel it happen, feel the corners of your mouth lift and a chuckle make its way out of you.

"You have a pretty smile," Sirius says. He looks about two seconds away from poking it to see if it's real.

"Are you telling me to smile more?" you ask.

That seems to fluster him. You don't think you've seen him flustered before. He runs a hand through his unruly curls, ties them up into a half-up half-down bun thing with the hairband on his wrist. You wonder if his hair is soft.

"I, no," he stumbles. Who knew Sirius Black could stumble over his words? "I wouldn't. That's not something you say to a girl --"

You put a hand on his arm. His skin is warm, the ink that covers it smoother than you expected under your fingers. "I'm teasing, Sirius," you say.

His grin returns twice as strong. How can he flip between emotions so quickly? "You are? Oh, thank fuck."

His profanity makes your lips tug up. You take a sip of your drink and knock your knee with his.

"Hang on," he says. "If you're teasing me that means you must like me."

"What do you mean?" You genuinely want to know.

"Well," he says. "We don't really know each other, even though I've been trying to work up speaking to you at every one of Lily's parties this year, which is why she agreed to set us up, by the way, so I'd stop bothering her about it."

You want to interrupt because, what? but he keeps talking. His gaze is steady, eyes fixed on yours.

"But I get the impression that you don't let just anyone see how many sides you have."

Something in your chest is tight and warm. Is that your heart?

"Sides?" you mutter. "A cube, am I?"

He laughs. Loudly and genuinely. You don't fight the smile this time. Sirius puts his hand on your knee and leans in a little. "I'm not great with words, love," he says. "That's Remus."

"You're plenty great," you say bluntly. "And I guess you're right."

"Hmm?" He blinks a few times and you realize how long his lashes are, his eyeliner making his irises look impossibly big.

"I must like you."

Not a bad first date after all.

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, masterlist here!

[imaginesbymonika]

Red lights.

Plot: If guilt had a name it would be Dean Winchester.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x sister!Reader

Warnings: mention of violence, mention of Demon!Dean, needles, blood, fluff in the end but only a bit

Everything happened so fast. So very fast.

The red lightning, which emerges from the lamps above you turns the bunker into a place you're unable to recognize. This whole situation has been feeling like a never-ending nightmare for a while and now it was also looking like one. Dean has always reassured you, that while the world around you was filled with ghosts and demons he would always look out for you. And you never questioned him. However, right now, you were hiding from him as if he turned into one of those monsters he swore to protect you from. You look up you can notice it in Sam's eyes. You're not the only one terrified of your oldest brother.

"Smart, Sam. Looking the place down. Doors won't open. I get it." His deep voice is echoing through the empty and cold hallways. "But here's the thing. I don't wanna leave. Not till I find you two."

Your relationship with Dean has always been different from the one you have with Sam. While the younger brother actually feels like a brother to you, Dean has always meant more to you. After all, he practically raised you since you were a little child. However, at this moment, while his hammer was destroying the door, you tried your best to still see him in all of this. He may be a demon, but underneath all of that hatred your brother had to remain… right? But it becomes much more difficult with every second that passes. You take a deep breath.

"Y/N.", Dean suddenly says and Sam instantly pushes you behind his bigger body. "Oh, come on.", you can see how a fake pout emerges on his face:" I just want to talk to my sweet little baby girl." For a moment he lowers his weapon as he stares you down through the shattered wood:" Don't think, that I won't also kill you. I can still sense my love for you, however, it is not enough for me to save you. But if you help me kill Sammy, I might make it quick for you." There's a ringing in your ears. "Don't listen to him.", Sam whispers but his voice is muffled and feels unbelievably far away.

Dean has never ever threatened you. Even when you were much younger and he had earned a beating from John, because of something that you did on his watch… he never ever threatened you before. It was something that seemed impossible to you. But now it had happened and it filled you with an unknown emotion.

"Come on.", Sam speaks and clutches your hand, bringing you back into reality. You two rush through the red hallways and after a minute or two you stop. Sam takes a deep breath and when he turns around to face you, his eyes widen in fear. You don't even have time to properly react before he pushes you to the cold ground. And when you look up, you make eye contact with Dean. His hammer sticking to the wall. It was hurled with such an immense force that it makes your jaw drop.

"Oh man, looks like I missed.", he says softly:" Can I try again?" There is a sincerity in his voice that makes your skin crawl. You nearly throw up. Meanwhile, Sam's knife is close to his throat. So close, it's almost making him bleed.

"Do it!", the oldest brother angrily hisses, his spit dripping down his chin. But Sam's arm just drops after a few seconds. You shut your eyes, not knowing what is about to happen next before you unexpectedly hear Castiel's voice. "It's over!"

You sit on the floor next to the door, your back is leaning against one of the shelves while you observe how Sam pushes yet another needle into your oldest brother's forearm. A weird emptiness has been filling you up for a while now, and while you should be happy that Dean is back at the bunker… you can't help but feel drained. "Are you okay, Y/N?", Castiel asks, and when you eventually tear your eyes off Dean's unconscious body you only nod.

Sam sighs:" He almost killed her." Castiel's eyes widen in shock, as his head snaps towards him. "He did what?" You want to defend Dean, but before you can answer someone groans. Castiel notices how you quickly get up from your spot, and softly nudges you to stand behind him. His grip on his knife tightens to the point where his knuckles are white. Meanwhile, Sam was slowly opening up the bottle with the holy water.

Dean lifts his head and when you notice his black eyes you can't help but feel sick. You quickly turn around and throw up into the corner. Sam and Castiel exchange a quick but worried look. The blackness quickly fades and when his normal eyes scan the room he takes one final deep breath. "You look worried, fellas.", he jokes, but no one laughs. You turn around at the sound of his voice, before wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

Without waiting a second longer, you snatch the bottle out of Sam's hand and toss the liquid into Dean's face. A pleased sigh escapes your lips when you acknowledge that there is no smoke. "Welcome back, Dean!"

"How is he holding up?"

Sam, who is entering the room looks over at the angel. "Well, he is still a bit out of it, nevertheless, he is doing better." You look up from your book. "The whole thing really took a turn on him- he… he just feels really guilty." The last word leaves Castiels lips as a whisper as if he was hoping you wouldn't hear it. But you did.

A knock on the door catches Dean's attention and he shifts on his bed before sitting up straight:" Yeah?" He expected to see either his brother or Castiel, however when he makes eye contact with you his jaw clenches. "Hey.", you say and slowly walk into his room. You sit down on the edge of the bed. A soft but tired smile emerges on your lips and Dean mirrors it. "Hey."

"I just- I just wanted to check in with you.", you explain and your brother nods. A silence falls over the two of you and you clear your throat:" Remember- Remember when we were younger… you came back from a hunt and you were hurt and John was… god knows where. We didn't have anything in the fridge except for some eggs and cheese."

At that Dean laughs:" And you made me that god-awful omelet? Of course, how could I ever forget about that? My arm was broken and I had the worst stomach pains on top of that." Once again you both sit in silence before Dean runs a hand down his face:" I am so sorry, Y/N." The sound of his voice breaks your heart and you move closer to him:" It's okay, Dee." He just chuckles dry. You know that he won't ever believe you.

[junosmindpalace]

i find discourse around the rdr women so...fascinating and infuriating at the same time. because a lot of the time it doesn't seem like rdr fans want to apply the same level of complex analysis to the women like they do for the men, but when they do, it still doesnt seem all that well-intentioned or that it does right by their characters.

this is a very long analysis/spam/defense so be warned :,)

even though the majority of sadie's character revolves around the fact she not only lost her home and her husband and was thrust into a new life of crime, but was actively struggling with robberies BEFORE the events of the game, people instead choose to focus on whether or not she had feelings for arthur or whether he actions in the game were actually impactful. she helped saved abigail and john when no else would, she fought alongside the men against the army, she helped john set up a stable life, she helped rob the payroll train, helped ensure colm’s death, she fought alongside arthur TIME AGAIN and took over in a leadership role when half the gang was absent in the guarma chapter. to say that she did nothing more except “be badass” undermines all of these contributions to the story that she was either at the forefront of or helped bring to fruition.

in my opinion, abigail is the EASIEST character to defend out of any of the women, and yet somehow she receives the most backlash from dudebros. I lose ten braincells every time i have to read a theory post over whether or not she slept with other camp members besides john, whether or not she was a rat, and about how much shes a nag. the woman has not known a moment's rest in her entire life. by the age of eight she was working in a cathouse. she was a child prior to then scrapping whatever money she could earn at her young age in saloons and dive bars as a woman and child just to survive as a orphan. jack's birth was clearly not planned, and she has voiced multiple times her grievances at the circumstances of his upbringing. everything she does is for a better life for her son: a life she never had. her constant nagging to get john to man up and be a father is for her son's benefit, not her own. she even says so herself when she tells him that she doesn't mind if a relationship between them doesn't work out, but to at least try being there for jack. she can't work a job because she is a mother living a life of crime and danger; she can't afford to leave the camp and her son unsupervised. she still does her share around camp. why would anyone blame her for not wanting to return to a life that has made her miserable, especially now that she has a child who she wants to model a good life for? many people seem to somehow also forget that she herself was a child when she gave birth to jack; only 17-18. she is 22 in the game in a bad situation with the father of her child and financially. she is doing her best to raise her son when she is not fully equipped to do so. how can anyone even blame her for being skeptical of john when hes affectionate in the epilogue when for so long hes been distant? she does not even ask much of john--just to be there for him sometimes, and to live honestly. she is also incredibly kindhearted. comforting other women in the camp, offering a listening ear, taking care of john when hes injured. she puts in her share of effort when it comes to finding a job in the epilogue and maintaining beechers hope.

molly is a young woman who is presumably incredibly far from her home where her family is, and trying to navigate a way of life completely unfamiliar to her. her stuck up nature comes not only from the way she was raised, but also dutch's uplifting affection and presumed lovebombing in the early stages of their relationship. shes even been suggested to be somewhat sociable until dutch and her became somewhat of an official item, in which she grew somewhat of a bigger ego with a mentality that she was his right hand. she deeply depended on dutch for her stability in every way, and its evident in her eventual spiral. she hated being seen as weak and pitiful as somewhat of an outsider among outsiders. she seemed to be close to no one besides dutch, who repeatedly cut her off when she attempted to talk to him about her growing feelings of anxiety, paranoia and sadness. the loss of the one thing that had built her up, coupled with immense tragedy she just wasnt used to, and desperate for a semblance of respect and dignity that she had presumably been all too accustomed to, of course she was going to come off brash and confront dutch about his distant, high and mighty attitude. it's why by the end, she doesnt care if she is killed: there is nothing left for her. karen's comment about her pretending to rat them out for the sake of attention is also interesting in terms of their relationship and parallels, which i dont see ANYONE talk about.

karen very clearly struggles with...a lot. she has even said so herself when talking with molly. she struggles to accept help, evident in pieces of dialogue where she brushes off concerned gang members about her drinking (mary-beth, arthur, javier), and when she seems somewhat ashamed and embarrassed having to have been rescued by arthur in the valentine mission (SAYING EXPLICITLY "i dont much like being saved"). she struggles with believing people have good intentions/feelings toward her, illustrated in the way she's constantly rejecting sean, yet seemingly disappeared further down the bottle after his death, and her conversation with mary beth and tilly about the world having no equal and fair place for women. her negative experiences in the world as a woman could also influence her view of the world, perhaps being why she finds herself somewhat hostile toward feminist mindsets and why she, for a while, enjoyed the outlaw lifestyle: it was her little slice of freedom. her hatred for the rich can also be because she has experiences as a poor woman, perhaps some direct experiences in which rich people have negatively impacted her life. though molly and karen don't get along through most of the game, karen actually tries to step in and help her near the end, and its this action + defending her after her death that shows she was sympathetic toward her situation and on some level able to relate to it, both craving some kind of love beyond superficial things.

@/cryptidcr3ature said it very well in a post i reblogged recently: mary is essentially "her brother's keeper and her father's caretaker". she herself lives somewhere middle class with traditional notions of the time impacting her views on arthur's lifestyle and anything below those middle class standards being deemed as socially unacceptable (which is evident from the very first letter mary sends to arthur, in which she seems confused on what a polite term would be to refer to prostitutes, who were obviously thought very lowly of in the time). i also don't think its fair to criticise her condemnation of arthur's lifestyle when pretty much all audiences, contemporary and not, including members of the gang, acknowledge that it isnt anything pretty. killing is not fun. running from the law is not fun. mary was not only influenced by her father's views of arthur (a person that, despite being horrible, she still deeply loves), but looking after her own family, herself, and arthur's wellbeing when she ended their relationship + suggested they run away. she had given him an opportunity at compromise. perhaps the first time, scared and unfamiliar with his lifestyle, she had offered arthur an ultimatum: her or his outlaw life, but later was willing to also leave behind her brother and father, two figures that tie her down and make her life more miserable than need be despite loving them very much, in order to settle somewhere with arthur and start over. her asking for arthur's help comes from a place of desperation and excuse to allow herself some semblance of stability when she hadn't had it; at least not since her mother and husband passed. if arthur refuses to help her, she is incredibly understanding and sympathetic. she does not lash out. if arthur does help, she is immensely grateful, and even tries to bond with him despite their years apart.

this post isnt to excuse some of their more negative behaviours and aspects of their characters'-- but im saying that they deserve to be fairly treated and analyzed just like any of the rdr men. many of them are young. many of them have unique challenges as women. that isn’t to say the men have it easier, but their struggles and less prettier aspects of their characters are always met with more sympathy than the women. why do arthur and john get passes as reformed absent fathers and criminals? why does sean receive sympathy when karen rejects his pushy advances? why does hosea get a pass at being better than dutch when he still groomed younger members of the gang for a life of crime alongside dutch? why does dutch get a pass by having his downfall be justified by tough circumstances? lets just be fair

[d0wnb4df0rf1cm3n]

Let me

Anthony Lockwood x F!Reader

Summary: You got hurt. It was his fault. And he feels absolutely awful.

Word Count: 3.4K

Warnings: Angst, Claustrophobia, Near-death situations, Some lightly mentioned family issues, Arguing, Couples? Quarrels, ANGST.

AN: The summary is awful - I feel like I say this every time. Idk if Reader and Lockwood are a couple, they don't have to be, but they can be if you want to. Love you all! (BTW I have not read the books in years so creative liberties were taken - I'm sorry for any and all book inaccuracies.)

The body of one 'Sergeant M. Bowers' floated precariously towards Lockwood. He backed up against the door of the bedroom, eyes darting between you and Bowers, rapier extended in front of him. You rifled through the bedroom, looking for anything precious or valuable. You had to find the source for Lockwood.

Lockwood had taken the case of this particular house out of pure greed. Mrs. Miller was willing to pay a pretty price to take care of her 'little problem' as she called it. You had warned him against it - the Bowers' manor was about a mile outside of the town you grew up in and you'd heard almost every story there was to hear about the house. About the family that inhabited the house. Lockwood hadn't listened.

He'd convinced you to come, saying the stories were 'probably just stories told to children to scare them away.' He assured you they weren't true. After George had done his research, you were more confident - apparently, reports of apparitions of children predated the problem and were therefore hoaxes.

The Bowers were an affluential aristocratic family before the war - the First World War, that is. "They were known for hosting Gatsby-esque parties to celebrate the most menial of affairs - like their dog turning one." George had rolled his eyes at that pushing the picture of the newspaper your way. April 6th, 1912. A week before the Titanic sank.

The sinking of the Titanic began a series of unfortunate events for the Bowers family, starting with the death of the youngest son, James. James and his to-be wife, Miranda, died aboard the ship, thrusting the family into a long period of mourning. In the following two years, 6 of the 12 members who lived in the house had passed away, forcing the rest to flee the countryside manor, claiming it had been cursed - which brought about the misfortune of the family.

The last of the family to inherit the manor was Sergeant Michael James Bowers, who was the youngest nephew of James. He had lost his life in the second World War; after being shot in the arm and leg, he had been honourably discharged and sent home. He succumbed to sepsis not long after, surrounded by empty halls and unhappy memories. Apparently, he had never left.

You shook your head in discomfort - dispelling the dark feeling that had crept over you since reading about the family's terrible fate. Something seemed off about this case - something seemed to have been omitted from all the research you and George had done.

At first, you disregarded it as nerves. The Bowers manor was big - bigger than any other case you had taken. Plus, it was close to home, which was full of unpleasant memories. Maybe the added pressure was playing on your mind. You tried to explain yourself to Lockwood, who dismissed you. Apparently, Lucy had to help Kipps with some research, and George was working on another case. There was no point in arguing with Lockwood when he had made up his mind, and he was not going to budge on this case.

Which led you to your current predicament.

There were many ghosts haunting the halls of the Bowers manor. It seemed that everyone who had died here didn't want to leave. You had rid the house of most of the ghosts - sealing almost ten sources in different iron boxes. Lockwood had danced his way through the Type Ones that he was dealing with - he was evidently the better agent out of the two of you. You had lucked out - you came face to face with a Type Two. The small girl kept repeating about her teddy which you had found in an upstairs bedroom covered in filth and cobwebs. You threw an iron net over it before leaning against a wall to catch your breath. You were exhausted - and you hadn't even dealt with the real problem.

Sergeant Bowers.

Sergeant M. Bowers was a lot more tortured than you had initially thought. His wife left him when he left for the war, leaving to follow her true love into the country - countless correspondences scattered across the rooms told you as much.

Then came the matter of a child - Timothy. Pictures of him were littered through the halls - toys left to rot in the hallways. Clearly, no one had cleaned it until Mrs. Miller bought it at that country house auction. Except the trace of him ended there. There was nothing in your research to tell you about him, nor any sign of him outside the walls of this home.

It was peculiar.

You had tried to tell Lockwood, but he brushed you off. "The kid must have died - explains the tortured relationship between his parents."

It seemed odd to you. What kind of mother would run off without her child?

A glint caught your eye. A small jewellery box lay on the vanity, dust laid over it as if it hadn't been touched in decades. You dashed towards it, opening it quickly to find a simple silver band inside. A wedding band. A source.

You placed the ring in a small iron box - one of your many engineering feats that made your job safer and easier to do. Bowers disappeared from over Lockwood and you ran over to help him up.

"See? Not too bad, was it?" Lockwood joked, taking the box from your hand and putting it in his bag with the rest of them.

"The only reason I'm glad we don't work with Fittes is the paperwork. We'd be drowning in it after tonight. Can you imagine? With all those Type Ones and the two Type Twos. I'd be crying into my pillow for weeks." You grabbed the rest of your equipment and headed towards the stairs. Lockwood's fingers wrapped around your arm, pulling you back sharply.

He pulled out his rapier and pointed it toward the woman - an apparition of a young woman, dressed in a maid's uniform and carrying a basket, seemingly full of laundry.

"Another Type Two. Great." Lockwood sighed, "You check downstairs and I'll check upstairs. She's a maid. Look for... maid things? I don't know." You nodded before hopping downstairs, armed with your rapier.

You went down to the servants' quarters, which you had seen on the blueprints of the house. The room was small, just off the side of the kitchen - and was perhaps the cleanest room in the house. The maids had been let go long before Sergeant Bowers had inherited the house. Clearly, they had taken the cleanliness with them.

You looked around for anything that could be a source. Why would staff die here, you thought, when the Bowers were known for treating staff well? And why would she choose to stay? You walked around the room, running your fingers over the sparse wooden furniture around the room, leaving trails in the dust in your wake. You tripped by the door to the bathroom, cutting your hand on a small loose nail by the door - probably used for hanging coats or aprons. You winced as you stretched your hand, closing your fist to stop the blood from dripping all over the floor.

You heard footsteps coming down the stairs. "Did you find anything, Lockwood?" No response. "Lockwood?" The door to the servants' quarters slammed shut. You pressed up against the door, trying to force it open. "LOCKWOOD? LOCKWOOD, HELP!" You screamed, trying to push the door hard. "LOCKWOOD, PLEASE! I NEED YOU!"

Lockwood called to you from the landing, telling you he's found something interesting. You tried screaming for him again, but he was too far away to hear you, just like you were too far away to help. Ghostly yelling startled you as you turned around. The maid was here, clearly oblivious to you in the room. She was humming softly as the ghostly yelling continued.

You watched her from a distance as she folded some invisible clothes, her humming still ringing out around the room. She laughed at nothing, before turning towards the door, expectantly. You turned towards the door, expecting to see some other apparition in the doorway but there was nothing. She seemed to get frantically worried by the lack of whatever presence she is expecting, her humming becoming erratic and eerier by the second.

Her eyes grazed over you, and she seemed to relax. She spoke to you gently, reaching her hand out to you, "Come, Elizabeth. There's no need to be scared." You felt the effects of Ghost-lock wash over you, as lethargy numbs your senses. You saw her drifting toward you, but you had no energy to run or even to poise your rapier in front of you. And she seems so nice.

You heard the door fly open and felt someone grab your arm, tightly. You were pulled out of the room and back into the kitchen. "Thanks, Anthony." You whispered, resting on the kitchen counters.

"Anthony? Who's Anthony?" You looked up, unamused by Lockwood's attempt at a joke.

Your jaw dropped. In front of you was a man that you thought you may never see again, "Grandpa? What the hell are you doing here?"

"I heard you screaming. Just wanted to make sure you're okay?" He said, eyes looking you over, searching for injuries. You hid your arm further behind your back, not wanting to worry him more.

He brought his hand up to brush your cheek, staring down at you lovingly. "I'm sorry about this, kiddo."

You felt hands pulling you up off the floor, and a strangely familiar voice whispering soothing words in your ear. You struggled in the grasp of this strange person, trying - unsuccessfully - to flee. They held you firmly, arms tucked neatly beneath you.

Tired from your busy night, you gave up, resting your head against the person's chest. You knew this cologne. It was Anthony's - you teased him for putting on too much and the scent lingers in the hallways some mornings. You settled, seeking his warmth and his comfort.

"Nice to have you back. You worried me for a minute back there."

"Lockwood? Worried? God, are there pigs in the sky?" You bantered back, your voice weak with exhaustion. He laid you down on the stairs, running back to grab your rapier and your flares. You must have dropped them when your Grandpa showed up. Grandpa?

Where did he go? You stood up trying to walk back to the kitchen. Grandpa couldn't see any apparitions - if one came for him, he'd be as good as dead.

"Whoa, slow down, Usain Bolt." Lockwood caught you as your legs folded beneath you. "You took a nasty hit to the head, plus you might have had a bit of ghost-lock as well."

"Lockwood, my grandpa," You said, looking past him, and back at the kitchen door, "He can't see them. We have to help him."

"Your grandpa? Honey, there's no one here." The nickname fell on deaf ears. You tried to scramble back towards the room, but Lockwood held you tightly.

He walked with you back to the kitchen - to prove there was no one there. There was no sign of anyone being there - nothing at all.

"Look - there's no one else here. You must have hit your head while getting away from the maid. Just," He huffed, pulling you closer to him, "let me get you home. Let me check you over - make sure you're alright."

You let Lockwood drag you towards the taxi and push you inside. You let him maneuver your body so that your head is resting on his chest and your legs dangle over his. You let him carry you like a rag doll into the house and set you down in the kitchen.

You shivered slightly - involuntarily - but Lockwood noticed. He draped a large blanket over you, boiling some water for hot tea. He grabbed the first aid kit from under the sink and sat down in front of you.

He held out his hand for yours, "Let me clean it for you." So you do.

He spent the better part of the next hour meticulously cleaning every scratch and scrape he can find - only slowing down when you wince, or to pour you more tea. He makes it how you like it - a spoonful of sugar and a dash of milk

Once he's done, he lifts you again and carries you to bed, tucking you in like a mother would their child. He turns out the lights with a soft goodnight and crosses the landing to his own bedroom. The first floor is plunged into darkness, but you stare up at the ceiling.

Sleep doesn't come to you easily. When you close your eyes, the maid's face is above yours - her hand reaching out to you, beckoning you. You want to take it. You see her holding Elizabeth, cradling her as she cries. Your grandpa's face comes up next to the maid and you see your grandpa die. How he screams for you to help him as the plasm burns through his skin. Your mother blames you - tells you that she should never have let you go to Fittes. The maid shields Elizabeth from the loud arguing coming from upstairs. No, not from upstairs. The arguing is happening below you. You shake yourself awake from your restless night, wincing as you contort your bruised body. You slip on your Fittes hoodie and creep downstairs.

Lucy and Lockwood are facing off in the kitchen. Again. You sit on the step, listening in.

"She told you she didn't want to go! And now, there's a chance she won't be able to go into the field."

"She'll be fine. She's tough, she'll get through it."

"You don't know that, Lockwood! You can't just assume that everything will be fine just because you want it to be." You could hear Lucy's voice breaking as she fought back tears.

"Maybe, she won't want to go on missions anymore," George piped up. Clearly, he'd been forced to sit there through breakfast and listen to the argument, "After all, you didn't listen to her doubts when she said she was scared."

"No, she didn't. She just had nerves."

"No, Lockwood. I was terrified. And you didn't hear me out."

"You're awake!" Lucy threw her arms around you, hugging you tightly. "God, I'm so happy you're okay!" You smiled at her warmly, hugging her back. She moved past you, saying something about needing to meet Kipps to finish their case.

"I'd hug you too, but you should probably shower first. Who knows what kind of bacteria fester in hundred-year-old manors? I'll see you after lunch - heading to the archives." George walked out quickly, almost as if he was being chased out by rats.

Lockwood stood in front of you, straight as a board, "You look like you've been electrocuted. Sit down. I'm not going to bite." Lockwood sent a weak smile in your direction.

You poured yourself a mug of tea and put some bread in the toaster. You made a mental note to send George a shopping list before he came back.

"So..." Lockwood started, and you wanted to laugh. In the almost three years you'd lived with him, you'd never seen him so nervous.

"So?"

"We should probably talk about what happened back there." Ah. He wanted to do this now.

"Yeah. We probably should."

"What happened? I mean, one minute you were fine, the next you were unconscious in the kitchen?" Lockwood said, leaning back in his chair slightly.

You grabbed your mug and sat in the chair opposite him, "Was I, though?" Lockwood raised his eyebrows, "Was I really fine, Lockwood, or did you just want me to be fine?"

"I don't understand?"

"Lockwood, I voiced my doubts to you! I told you to let it go! That this was a case we didn't have to take! That we'd find something better." You were standing now, leaning over the table, staring Lockwood down.

"Worth more than 90 grand? Do you have any concept of how much money that is?"

"YES! YES, LOCKWOOD, I DO! IT'S NOT NEARLY ENOUGH MONEY! We fought how many ghosts? 10? 12? Do you even consider that?"

"14, actually."

"YOU ARE NOT HELPING YOURSELF. YOU MAY BE THE LITTLE PRODIGY OF FITTES, BUT SOME OF US ARE NORMAL. SOME OF US ARE AVERAGE." You sat back down, your legs shaking. You were still too weak to force this argument. Your voice trembled, "I can't keep up with you, Lockwood, none of us can. Lucy, maybe, but even she needs a break. Hell, even you need a break sometimes."

"We're fine, aren't we? We're all alive and kicking, still fighting ghosts another day?"

"Yeah, but for how long? How long do we keep getting to cheat death?" How long until one of us gets buried for the unnecessary risks we keep taking? You didn't say it but the question took root in the back of your mind.

Lockwood sighed, "I don't know where this is even coming from. We survived. We did the job. We got our money. Aren't you happy-"

"HAPPY! HOW CAN I BE HAPPY, LOCKWOOD? I DON'T KNOW WHAT HAPPENED IN THAT HOUSE YESTERDAY! One minute, we were sealing up a source, the next I was being lured in by a Type Two, ghost-locked and bleeding. Somehow, my GRANDPA WAS THERE, AND THEN I'M UNCONCIOUS ON THE FLOOR. NONE OF IT MAKES SENSE, nothing - nothing makes sense. I feel - I feel like my brain's been scrambled. It just - I can't - I don't-" Lockwood kneeled next to you, his palm gently cradling your face, and let you cry. You stayed there for a few seconds before you looked up into his face, eyes brimming with tears, "You know what the - what the worst part was?"

"What was the worst part, honey?" There it was again, the nickname. Your heart skipped slightly at the sound of it.

"That you couldn't hear me." Lockwood looked at you, pain sweeping over his expression. "I called for you. In the servants' quarters. I needed you, but you couldn't hear me. I screamed and I cried and I begged and I- I needed you, Lockwood."

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his lap, before stroking your hair. You cried into his shirt, the white fabric turning translucent in the dampness.

"I will always come." He whispered to you, eyes bright with determination. "I may not have always been there before, but I will be now. I promise. No matter where or when, if you call, I will come to you." He cradled your face in his hands again, thumbs gently rubbing away your tears, "I will listen to you - and George, and Lucy. If you tell me you're scared, I'll hear you. I won't take jobs out of greed, we'll make decisions together. We're a team. I'm sorry I haven't been acting like it."

You wrapped your arms around his neck, tucking yourself into his neck, "I like the sound of that."

You felt Lockwood smile against your neck. "I'll take care of you. If you'll let me."

You pulled back, "Taking care of each other goes both ways. You have to let me take care of you too." He scoffed lightly, but you knew that he had agreed. He couldn't ever say no to you. Not even at Fittes.

"As much as I hate to ruin the moment, George was right. I don't want to think about how much bacteria was probably growing in that house." Lockwood helped you up, "You should probably shower." You nodded your head, chuckling lightly. You grabbed Lockwood's phone from the table and before he could steal it back, you sent a text on the group chat.

"We need food. PLS. WE HAVE NOTHING." You threw him his phone as you ran up the stairs. Lockwood laughed at the text.

"They'll know it's you." He said waving his phone as you grabbed your towel.

"Or they'll have a heart attack knowing that Frosty can change his mind."

fin.

[cyborg-franky]

Confessions

Thank you so much @whitewineandpizzapuffs for the support and the suuuuuper super fun prompt. I had fun with this big boy. I hope you enjoy <3

Ace x F!Reader SFW Ace Lives AU 5 + 1 trope WC: 4,400

He was a highly ranked commander on one of the strongest crews in the world but that didn’t stop Ace from being unable to handle his feelings. He was never one to express how he felt, other than anger and annoyance. Pushing everything else down deep to be ignored and to deny to himself and everyone else.

Despite being in such a position of power he still hid from her in Marco’s office when he knew she was on lunch break. Sitting across from the phoenix as he worked, watching as Marco’s quill danced across the paper the sound of the tip dragging along the parchment paper.

“Marco, your handwriting is terrible, how do you even read it?” Ace mumbled, staring over at the notes the other commander had been working on. Marco paused, sighed, and looked over his red frames at Ace.

“Shouldn’t you be doing something else? Like anything else?” Marco sat back in his seat and watched how Ace fidgeted in his seat, reaching over for a piece of paper to pull at, to fiddle with the edge before Marco shot him a look, Ace chuckled and dropped the paper.

“Yeah, I guess. I’m on break and I thought I’d keep my bestie company.” Ace batted his eyelashes which earned him a scrutinising gaze from Marco. “You mean your avoiding her because you have feelings and haven’t worked out how to cope with those yet yoi.” Marco watched Ace straighten up, how tense his shoulder became as he stumbled over his words.

Gotcha 

“Listen,” “I’m listening.” Ace folded his arms over his chest, Marco mimicking him with a growing smirk on his lips as Ace wrinkled his nose.

“I’m working on it.” 

Marco rolled his eyes, a chuckle as he shook his head, standing up from his desk and walking over to his filing cabinet as Ace sulked over his situation. “If you don’t find somewhere else to mope around I’ll tell her for you yoi.” Marco hummed, acting nonchalant as he glanced over his shoulder, seeing the color drain from Ace’s freckled face.

“Don’t fuckin’ do that birdbrain!” He flapped his arms, waving them in a no fashion as Marco watched him. “Fine, I’ll work on it… I’ll confess to her!”

Famous last words Ace thought as he ran a hand through his hair with a deep sigh.

–

The first time he almost confessed to her was on a summer island, the pair walking through town. She brushed her hair back as she talked with one of the traders in the marketplace. Ace watched her with a dumb look on his face, the fondness clear as day on his face. He watched as she laughed, joking with the man selling her supplies.

He felt a little tinge of jealousy when the trader seemed to take the banter as an invite, offering her a deal because she was so pretty. His eyebrow twitched in annoyance as his jaw was set in a firm line, not impressed with the man trying to flirt with her.

Ace tried to convince himself that he was just looking out for his best friend, and that he was making sure no one hassled her. He told himself desperately it wasn’t anything to do with the growing feelings that bloomed in his chest, wrapping around his heart like ivy. Flowers of affection alive and well.

“Hey buddy, come on, don’t hassle her.” Ace stepped forward, he placed his hand on her lower back in a reassuring manner. The trader blinked and laughed at Ace’s bravado.

“Her boyfriend or something pal?” He laughed at Ace and that was one thing he wouldn’t tolerate, he hated to be mocked, to be laughed at, he grit his teeth as the hand not on her back balled into a fist.

Flames licked across his bare shoulders, and she couldn’t miss those sparks, knowing his temper was about to flare and there would be a bigger problem. “No, he’s not. Come on Ace, he’s just being friendly.” She replied and turned to look at him, he tried not to feel the stab in his heart at her words, the dismissive nature of her reply.

He needed to calm down before he set this asshole's cart on fire. He bit the inside of his cheek as the trader carried on flirting with her, his hand on her shoulder, suggesting she come inside his shop to have an adult conversation. 

“Come on, this guy's shit isn’t worth it anyway, we got given a list we should stick to it.” He grunted and wrapped his hand around her wrist, gently pulling her from the trader's grasp. She had no idea what had come over Ace, he was normally so chill and full of laughs and smiles when they went shopping together.

She excused them both, saying sorry to the trader as Ace tugged her away by her wrist. Once out of earshot, she yanked her arm away from him, glaring, hands on her hips as she waited for an explanation.

“Why were you jealous Ace? We aren't together.” She started as she tapped her foot on the floor, trying not to let her temper get the best of her, not wanting to start a shouting match in the middle of town with him.

“He was being a sleaze! I know we aren’t together but come on, he was all over you!” Ace huffed, puffing his chest out, thinking he had the high ground here until he felt her poke his chest, instantly letting the air out of him. He saw the anger in her eyes as she opened her mouth. “No Ace, I was in no danger whatsoever and maybe I enjoyed the flirting? I’m single after all and again why are you jealous?” She demanded to know, voice raising as Ace stood there, shoulders sagging. Not enjoying the feeling of being scolded by the woman he was in love with.

“Maybe I want-” He cut himself off, he couldn’t confess, not here, not like this. He would never forgive himself. And she was pissed off with his antics, it would only cloud her judgment and spur on the rejection.

He sighed, shaking his head and picking up his bag, starting to walk. “It’s nothing, I’m sorry,”

—-

The second time he tried to confess, he actually did she just didn’t believe him. 

She was sitting in Marco’s office, looking at the door to the operating room, she couldn’t stop worrying about Ace. Her foot bounced and he knee jiggled as she played with the hem of her shirt, her cheeks hurt from anxiously chewing the insides.

Ace had been hit pretty bad, he’d been cocky and showing off and ended up with seastone bullets lodged into his chest, arm, and thigh. Marco had managed to heal him enough using the phoenix ability but he still needed the bullets out.

The door opened and she looked up, a worried expression painted across her face, tear-stained cheeks as she waited for Marco to appear. “He’s fine, you can come see him, he’s coming around from being under so he’ll be a bit goofy yoi.” Marco explained and she nodded, rushing to the door, pausing and staring at Ace laying there, mumbling to himself.

She wanted to blame herself for Ace getting hurt, she felt that somehow, some part of this was her fault, like Ace was showing off just for her benefit. They’d both been lax, both too comfortable in how strong Ace’s power was to think he could be hurt.

But the sneak attack from behind had been enough to level the commander. She bit her lip, not sure if she should allow herself to see him, blame dragging her under until she felt Marco’s hand on her lower back, ushering her into the room, pulling out a chair for her to sit by Ace.

“Ace,” She said and reached over, taking his hand as Ace with his lop-sided grin faced her, he slurred, sounding drunk as he was slowly coming too. Marco sat on the other side, a chart in his hands and only half paying attention to her and Ace as he scribbled more notes.

“How are you feeling?” She asked, rubbing his knuckles gently he laughed loudly, grabbing her hand, bringing it to his face, and kissing the back, she blushed and stared at him before groaning when he started to kiss her skin, this time sloppy and leaving drool.

“Much better now your here, your like an angel.” He gushed and smiled at her, trying to grab at the hand she’d pulled away.

“You know, I really love you.” He mumbled, looking a little forlorn at his admission. She blinked at him and noticed Marco was no longer writing, her eyes met with Marco’s over his clipboard. “Do you think he means it?” She asked and Marco blinked slowly, “Who knows..” He said with an awkward chuckle, quickly going back to his notes, knowing this wasn’t his call to make.

She sighed and looked from Marco back to Ace who seemed to have fallen asleep, trying to nap off the remaining effects of being under… At least he was okay..,

–

The third time Ace almost confessed she thought she was going to die. 

Ace’s beloved striker, how fast he could move that thing, How it blasted through the waves without a care in the world, cutting through the water like a hot knife through butter. Nothing could stop it nor Ace.

Fire flared around him as he held on to his hat with one hand, letting out a laugh as he felt freedom and the sea breeze fill his chest. The way the striker skipped across the water’s surface like a pebble skimmed across a lake. 

The sun was blazing above them, watching as the fire-fueled vessel burst through another wave, seaspray spittled across Ace but not enough to slow him down or to hinder his powers. She was clinging on for dear life, the wind in her hair as she shrieked and held the mast as tight as she could. 

Ace looked back seeing her clinging onto the pole, the smirk spread across his face as slowed down, just a little before coming to a stop. She could breathe finally, she could feel her heart beating against her chest, and her mouth felt dry from her open-mouthed gawking and shouting. 

“Wasn’t that fun?” He asked, stepping over to her, and placing his hand on hers. peeling her fingers from grasping so hard at the mast, seeing her knuckles white as she took a breath to calm herself.

“I can’t believe you and Deuce made this thing, it’s crazy,” She said letting her legs wobble, she almost fell back into the seat until Ace set his hands on her hips, keeping her in place, his smirk softened to a smile, enjoying how this felt. As he met her gaze, she was stunning.

“Yeah, it’s pretty neat right?” He said with pride, remembering the day the striker was born. “Deuce screamed even more than you did,” he teased gently nudging her before draping an arm across her shoulder, letting her lean on him for stability as she carried on trying to regulate her breathing.

“I don’t doubt that for a second.” She said, brushing messy hair from her face. “I’m really good at making people scream ya know…” He saw her furrowed brows as she elbowed him in jest, cheeks pink as she rolled her eyes. “Oh yeah? Maybe you should show me how else you could make me scream for you Portgas,” She fluttered her eyelashes and saw the blush that spread across his freckled cheeks, laughing when he dipped his hat to cover his face.

“Whatever,” he said and nudged her back, to and fro this went until they both sat down next to one another, a tight squeeze but neither seemed to mind. The striker was gently lulled by waves, birds overheard letting out excited cries.

“So, wasn’t it fun?” He asked again, playing with a loose thread on his shorts, staring ahead at the shimmering blue waves, feeling her shrug a little. “Scary and fun, like dating for the first time.” She said, looking across the same waves as him, feeling the sun on her skin as the boat just bobbed in place.

“Dating huh?” Ace turned to look at her now, examining her face as she met his eye once more, a small smile on her lips as she nodded. “Yeah, you know when your feelings are rushing to your heart and you feel it beating harder and harder when you spend time with the person you love, how fast the first few days and weeks feel. How alive it makes you feel but just how deep your feelings go keeping your feet rooted in place,”

He listened to her and mused it over, it was true, that summed up how he felt about her, but he wasn’t scared of being with her, he was terrified she would reject him, that he’d ruin a friendship along with the hopes and dreams of getting to hold her hand, kiss her, smell her hair first thing in the morning.

To hold her against his chest and listen to gentle breathing as she fell asleep by his side. He knew he was in deep, he knew his feelings were scarier than any storm on the sea, and joy ride on the striker.

He could cope with the fear of falling into the sea by now but he couldn't take just how his heart ached at the thought of losing her. But the bottled-up feelings carried on being shaken up inside, fit to burst and overflow any second.

Ace wanted to explode. “Would you ever… date someone?” he asked, hearing his heartbeat loud in his ears. She tilted her head to one side, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear as she thought about it, really thought about it. “I don’t know, I don’t think romance is on the cards for me,” she hummed and shrugged.

“Maybe I just need the right person…”

“What about if it was m-” he was cut off by a large wave rocking the striker, making them both yell in surprise. 

Ace looked up into the sky, one of the fabled out-of-nowhere storms that rolled across the world, typical of the grandline. The storm clouds above rumbled, they felt the sound of thunder rattle their chests as the waves picked up again.

“I guess we should go.” She sighed in annoyance at the same time he let out a defeated one. Both standing and Ace made sure she was holding on tight as he fired himself up once more, sending the boat rocketing over the waves, being chased by the storm.

All the way safely to The Moby Dick.

Had it been his imagination or had there been something in that conversation?

—--

The fourth time he tried to confess he was drinking one night, everyone sat around the tables, enjoying the end of another hard day. Bellies full of food, tankards full of beer as everyone laughed and cheered, singing and dancing.

And there she was, coming over to Ace’s table, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of her as she sat down, sitting across from him. He grabbed his mug, bringing it to his lips as he downed the biggest gulp. 

“Hey,” He said, hoping he sounded as casual as he’d intended though he’d straightened up and put a smile on his face.

“Can I join you?” she asked and he nodded, she sat across from him with her own drink, he admired how she looked, the backdrop of the sunset giving her a halo of orange light, like she also had his devil fruit and was on fire. He tried not to take too sharp of a breath as he admired her.

“Today was rough, I can’t believe so much went wrong.” She sighed and brought the tankard to her lips, taking a drink and all Ace could do was think lucky mug. He let out a chuckle and shrugged his shoulders. “That’s the way it goes sometimes on a ship, everything can go right one minute then you'rer in the ship's guts knee-deep in salt water.” 

“Has that ever happened to the moby?” “Nah, back on my old ship.” He explained and she mused over his comment, remembering just how Ace came to be on this ship. His journey to the man he was today. “I bet that was a pain in the ass.”

“Deuce still brings it up.” Ace snickered and she giggled thinking of the doctor and how he didn’t seem to let anything go. “That checks, I bet it was your fault… right?” She raised an eyebrow, a smirk growing when Ace mock gasped and pointed to himself.

“Me? How could you imply such a thing!” he tutted, seeing how she stared at him, not believing his reply in the slightest. “Alright, alright, it was me.”

-

Drinks flowed as did the conversation, both taking turns to go and grab two more drinks. Ace’s freckled cheeks were tinged pink, as was hers. They’d moved their little party to somewhere more private. Bottles of beer stolen from the kitchen, some laying empty around them.

“Sometimes I think you and Marco would make a cute couple.” She teased and nudged him, Ace snorted and spat out his drink, coughing as some dribbled from his nose. She laughed loudly, holding her stomach as he gave her a confused look, he grabbed the hem of her shirt and wiped his face off on the fabric as payback which caused her to squeal in amusement.

“Really?” He said, voice croaky, another cough as he watched her face, seeing the smirk. “Maybe so,”

“Come on, don’t say that! I might be trying to woo someone else and wouldn’t want them to think I like birdbrain!” He huffed and stretched his legs out, grabbing another beer and leaning back against the crate they’d set up camp in front of.

“And who would that be?” She asked, leaning closer to him, half-lidded eyes, and long lashes fluttering as she waited for a reply. Ace gripped the bottle in his hand before he chuckled and shrugged his shoulders. “Why do you wanna know? Would you be jealous?” 

She was a little taken aback by his flirty comment, she was glad for the dim light provided by the strings lights above. She could feel her face getting hotter at his reply, her palms sweating. She would be jealous, wouldn’t she? She sat back leaning on the crate and picking up her beer, staring at the stars.

“And what if I was? What would you do about it?” She said, turning to face him, watching him shift and lean forward. Eyes meeting hers. “Well, the last thing I’d wanna do is make you jealous..” He said, not a lie.

His eyes dropped to her lips where she was smiling at him, he wanted to kiss her so badly, the booze making him fearless, the back-and-forth flirting between two friends sending a buzz, an electric charge in the air as their bare arms touched. 

“Oh? Why?” 

His heart was racing, he licked his lips as he found he couldn't look away from her mouth, couldn’t think of anything but his desire to kiss her. She cleared her throat and he forced himself to make eye contact.

“Well, what if yo-” “There you two are!”

Ace groaned when Thatch turned the corner, standing in front of them. “We are about to start a big game of poker! Come on you two, quit making out and join us!” Thatch reached down and ruffled their hair. Ace huffed and slapped his hand away.

“Alright, alright!”

—-

The fifth time he tried to confess was just a simple evening. 

Ace hunched over a table in the dining room late in the afternoon, brows furrowed in concentration as he scribbled notes on the paper, He chewed on the end of the pen as he glared at the paper in front of him. Something all commanders had to do but he still hated this part of the job.

Paperwork.

She’d been looking for him, missing his company, his banter, and jokes, the warmth he would radiate with his smile and his body. She pushed open the door and saw him working hard, she felt herself smiling, gazing at him, fond of the commander that she was increasingly getting closer to, knowing him inside and out.

Seeing more sides of him than he ever let others witness. She walked over and gently placed a hand on his shoulder, he glanced up, and the irritated look vanished the moment he realized who it was. He placed his hand on hers and smiled.

“Hey,” “Hey, was wondering where you were.”

“Yeah?” He asked as she sat down on the other side, looking at the paper he was toiling over. “You have beautiful handwriting Ace..” she said with awe in her voice, pulling the sheet closer to her, and reading over his notes.

“Something I picked up from my childhood, from one of the good people I met.” He shrugged, even with her he was cagey about the past. She never pushed or pried though, never.

“Your writing is better than anyone else in fact.. Marco’s looks like chicken scratch, Thatch has more food stains the ink on his paperwork, and I don’t even want to mention the mess that Jozu makes and Vista.. His is far too fancy to understand.” She said as she looked over the page, Ace leaned on the table, cheek cradled in the palm of his hand as he admired her.

He wasn’t really listening, too focused on watching her lips move, watching the way she brushed hair behind her ear. He snapped out of it when she handed him back the paper. “Oh, thanks, yeah.” He mumbled in reply and tapped the nib of his pen on the paper.

“But yeah, beautiful Ace,” 

“I can think of something more beautful,” He started, watching her stare at him like she was expecting something. He managed to catch himself, realizing in his daze he’d almost let everything slip again. He sat up and nodded. “Yeah, the stars tonight! Pop’s said we should have a harvest moon! Those things are huge!”

She sighed inwardly, she felt he’d been so close to something…

“Wanna go see it together after I finish this up?” He offered, taking the paper and quickly returning his attention to his work, tipping his hat down to hide his face.

“I’d like that.”

–

She felt tears running down her face, and snot from her nose as she rushed after the others, Ace in Jozu’s arms as Marco became a beacon of blue fire, hands on Ace’s chest as everyone rushed aboard the ship.

Ace had been hit pretty bad, he’d have been dead if Marco hadn’t been there at that second. She couldn’t swallow the lump in her throat as she followed them to the infirmary, Marco only allowing her access because her name was all that Ace could manage to say as he came in and out of consciousness.

He looked so pitiful, a dimming flame that flickered in the wind as he was laid out on the bed, Marco never moving from Ace’s side, hands splayed out on his chest, keeping the wound from getting worse, from killing him.

She’d never seen Marco so frazzled, the normally laid-back man was shouting, a frown on his face as he carried on barking orders. Deuce and Tate rushed around the office, grabbing the things he asked for as you sat by Ace’s bedside.

His eyes opened, he didn’t seem all there as he reached a bloody hand out, grasping for hers. She held his hand tight as Marco’s flames got brighter, swallowing the room, and chasing away the shadows as the phoenix worked its magic.

Deuce hooking Ace up to a drip, Tate grabbing all manner of things. She had no idea what was going on, she didn’t dare ask Marco as he growled out “Come on Ace!” 

Everything was a blur, the shouting, yelling, clatter of things, and frustrated mumbles soon died down as Marco’s healing flames dissipated. Marco had never looked so ragged or old, she bit her lip when she saw his knees wobble and he sank to the floor, heavy breathing.

“Is Ac- is Ace okay?” she asked and saw Marco nod. “I have him stable, we have him stable.” He added seeing Deuce and Tate at Ace’s bedside, checking on things.

-

She didn’t leave his side, she hadn’t let go of his hand. Deuce opened the door and peered in, seeing her half slumped on Ace’s bed. “Want something to drink?” he asked, stepping in and checking a few things with Ace. She shook her head and politely declined.

Exhausted and too drained to think of anything. 

Deuce sighed and nodded, hanging up the clipboard before he left, to report to Marco no doubt. She felt Ace’s hand twitch and glanced up. He was staring right back at her, he looked rough but alive. He was going to be fine, thank the gods.

“Hey,” he clutched her hand, doing his best to smile at her. “Hey,” she sat up and offered him a weak smile. 

“We almost lost you there Portgas.” She sighed and watched him struggle to sit, she reached over, helping him sit, adjusting his pillows. “I know… but almost doesn’t count right?” he chuckled and winced, hand going to his bandaged chest.

“Your so cocky,” she sighed but the smile never left. 

“I’m glad I’m alive, I would have hated myself if I never got to tell you how much I love you.” Ace didn’t look away this time, it was out there, it was wild and free, the confession he’d been sitting on for as long as he could remember.

Her eyes opened wide and she bit back a sob, hearing those words… “I love you too Ace, you idiot,” She sat on the edge of the bed, leaning her forehead against his, sobbing softly as Ace closed his eyes, feeling complete at last. 

–

Marco leaned on the door frame, hearing the tearful confession from the pair. He smiled, glad two soulmates weren’t taken from one another before they had a chance to flourish together.

[downbadf0rficppl]

let me

Anthony Lockwood x F!Reader

Summary: You got hurt. It was his fault. And he feels absolutely awful.

Word Count: 3.4K

Warnings: Angst, Claustrophobia, Near-death situations, Some lightly mentioned family issues, Arguing, Couples? Quarrels, ANGST.

AN: The summary is awful - I feel like I say this every time. Idk if Reader and Lockwood are a couple, they don't have to be, but they can be if you want to. Love you all! (BTW I have not read the books in years so creative liberties were taken - I'm sorry for any and all book inaccuracies.)

Repost

The body of one 'Sergeant M. Bowers' floated precariously towards Lockwood. He backed up against the door of the bedroom, eyes darting between you and Bowers, rapier extended in front of him. You rifled through the bedroom, looking for anything precious or valuable. You had to find the source for Lockwood.

Lockwood had taken the case of this particular house out of pure greed. Mrs. Miller was willing to pay a pretty price to take care of her 'little problem' as she called it. You had warned him against it - the Bowers' manor was about a mile outside of the town you grew up in and you'd heard almost every story there was to hear about the house. About the family that inhabited the house. Lockwood hadn't listened.

He'd convinced you to come, saying the stories were 'probably just stories told to children to scare them away.' He assured you they weren't true. After George had done his research, you were more confident - apparently, reports of apparitions of children predated the problem and were therefore hoaxes.

The Bowers were an affluential aristocratic family before the war - the First World War, that is. "They were known for hosting Gatsby-esque parties to celebrate the most menial of affairs - like their dog turning one." George had rolled his eyes at that pushing the picture of the newspaper your way. April 6th, 1912. A week before the Titanic sank.

The sinking of the Titanic began a series of unfortunate events for the Bowers family, starting with the death of the youngest son, James. James and his to-be wife, Miranda, died aboard the ship, thrusting the family into a long period of mourning. In the following two years, 6 of the 12 members who lived in the house had passed away, forcing the rest to flee the countryside manor, claiming it had been cursed - which brought about the misfortune of the family.

The last of the family to inherit the manor was Sergeant Michael James Bowers, who was the youngest nephew of James. He had lost his life in the second World War; after being shot in the arm and leg, he had been honourably discharged and sent home. He succumbed to sepsis not long after, surrounded by empty halls and unhappy memories. Apparently, he had never left.

You shook your head in discomfort - dispelling the dark feeling that had crept over you since reading about the family's terrible fate. Something seemed off about this case - something seemed to have been omitted from all the research you and George had done.

At first, you disregarded it as nerves. The Bowers manor was big - bigger than any other case you had taken. Plus, it was close to home, which was full of unpleasant memories. Maybe the added pressure was playing on your mind. You tried to explain yourself to Lockwood, who dismissed you. Apparently, Lucy had to help Kipps with some research, and George was working on another case. There was no point in arguing with Lockwood when he had made up his mind, and he was not going to budge on this case.

Which led you to your current predicament.

There were many ghosts haunting the halls of the Bowers manor. It seemed that everyone who had died here didn't want to leave. You had rid the house of most of the ghosts - sealing almost ten sources in different iron boxes. Lockwood had danced his way through the Type Ones that he was dealing with - he was evidently the better agent out of the two of you. You had lucked out - you came face to face with a Type Two. The small girl kept repeating about her teddy which you had found in an upstairs bedroom covered in filth and cobwebs. You threw an iron net over it before leaning against a wall to catch your breath. You were exhausted - and you hadn't even dealt with the real problem.

Sergeant Bowers.

Sergeant M. Bowers was a lot more tortured than you had initially thought. His wife left him when he left for the war, leaving to follow her true love into the country - countless correspondences scattered across the rooms told you as much.

Then came the matter of a child - Timothy. Pictures of him were littered through the halls - toys left to rot in the hallways. Clearly, no one had cleaned it until Mrs. Miller bought it at that country house auction. Except the trace of him ended there. There was nothing in your research to tell you about him, nor any sign of him outside the walls of this home.

It was peculiar.

You had tried to tell Lockwood, but he brushed you off. "The kid must have died - explains the tortured relationship between his parents."

It seemed odd to you. What kind of mother would run off without her child?

A glint caught your eye. A small jewellery box lay on the vanity, dust laid over it as if it hadn't been touched in decades. You dashed towards it, opening it quickly to find a simple silver band inside. A wedding band. A source.

You placed the ring in a small iron box - one of your many engineering feats that made your job safer and easier to do. Bowers disappeared from over Lockwood and you ran over to help him up.

"See? Not too bad, was it?" Lockwood joked, taking the box from your hand and putting it in his bag with the rest of them.

"The only reason I'm glad we don't work with Fittes is the paperwork. We'd be drowning in it after tonight. Can you imagine? With all those Type Ones and the two Type Twos. I'd be crying into my pillow for weeks." You grabbed the rest of your equipment and headed towards the stairs. Lockwood's fingers wrapped around your arm, pulling you back sharply.

He pulled out his rapier and pointed it toward the woman - an apparition of a young woman, dressed in a maid's uniform and carrying a basket, seemingly full of laundry.

"Another Type Two. Great." Lockwood sighed, "You check downstairs and I'll check upstairs. She's a maid. Look for... maid things? I don't know." You nodded before hopping downstairs, armed with your rapier.

You went down to the servants' quarters, which you had seen on the blueprints of the house. The room was small, just off the side of the kitchen - and was perhaps the cleanest room in the house. The maids had been let go long before Sergeant Bowers had inherited the house. Clearly, they had taken the cleanliness with them.

You looked around for anything that could be a source. Why would staff die here, you thought, when the Bowers were known for treating staff well? And why would she choose to stay? You walked around the room, running your fingers over the sparse wooden furniture around the room, leaving trails in the dust in your wake. You tripped by the door to the bathroom, cutting your hand on a small loose nail by the door - probably used for hanging coats or aprons. You winced as you stretched your hand, closing your fist to stop the blood from dripping all over the floor.

You heard footsteps coming down the stairs. "Did you find anything, Lockwood?" No response. "Lockwood?" The door to the servants' quarters slammed shut. You pressed up against the door, trying to force it open. "LOCKWOOD? LOCKWOOD, HELP!" You screamed, trying to push the door hard. "LOCKWOOD, PLEASE! I NEED YOU!"

Lockwood called to you from the landing, telling you he's found something interesting. You tried screaming for him again, but he was too far away to hear you, just like you were too far away to help. Ghostly yelling startled you as you turned around. The maid was here, clearly oblivious to you in the room. She was humming softly as the ghostly yelling continued.

You watched her from a distance as she folded some invisible clothes, her humming still ringing out around the room. She laughed at nothing, before turning towards the door, expectantly. You turned towards the door, expecting to see some other apparition in the doorway but there was nothing. She seemed to get frantically worried by the lack of whatever presence she is expecting, her humming becoming erratic and eerier by the second.

Her eyes grazed over you, and she seemed to relax. She spoke to you gently, reaching her hand out to you, "Come, Elizabeth. There's no need to be scared." You felt the effects of Ghost-lock wash over you, as lethargy numbs your senses. You saw her drifting toward you, but you had no energy to run or even to poise your rapier in front of you. And she seems so nice.

You heard the door fly open and felt someone grab your arm, tightly. You were pulled out of the room and back into the kitchen. "Thanks, Anthony." You whispered, resting on the kitchen counters.

"Anthony? Who's Anthony?" You looked up, unamused by Lockwood's attempt at a joke.

Your jaw dropped. In front of you was a man that you thought you may never see again, "Grandpa? What the hell are you doing here?"

"I heard you screaming. Just wanted to make sure you're okay?" He said, eyes looking you over, searching for injuries. You hid your arm further behind your back, not wanting to worry him more.

He brought his hand up to brush your cheek, staring down at you lovingly. "I'm sorry about this, kiddo."

You felt hands pulling you up off the floor, and a strangely familiar voice whispering soothing words in your ear. You struggled in the grasp of this strange person, trying - unsuccessfully - to flee. They held you firmly, arms tucked neatly beneath you.

Tired from your busy night, you gave up, resting your head against the person's chest. You knew this cologne. It was Anthony's - you teased him for putting on too much and the scent lingers in the hallways some mornings. You settled, seeking his warmth and his comfort.

"Nice to have you back. You worried me for a minute back there."

"Lockwood? Worried? God, are there pigs in the sky?" You bantered back, your voice weak with exhaustion. He laid you down on the stairs, running back to grab your rapier and your flares. You must have dropped them when your Grandpa showed up. Grandpa?

Where did he go? You stood up trying to walk back to the kitchen. Grandpa couldn't see any apparitions - if one came for him, he'd be as good as dead.

"Whoa, slow down, Usain Bolt." Lockwood caught you as your legs folded beneath you. "You took a nasty hit to the head, plus you might have had a bit of ghost-lock as well."

"Lockwood, my grandpa," You said, looking past him, and back at the kitchen door, "He can't see them. We have to help him."

"Your grandpa? Honey, there's no one here." The nickname fell on deaf ears. You tried to scramble back towards the room, but Lockwood held you tightly.

He walked with you back to the kitchen - to prove there was no one there. There was no sign of anyone being there - nothing at all.

"Look - there's no one else here. You must have hit your head while getting away from the maid. Just," He huffed, pulling you closer to him, "let me get you home. Let me check you over - make sure you're alright."

You let Lockwood drag you towards the taxi and push you inside. You let him maneuver your body so that your head is resting on his chest and your legs dangle over his. You let him carry you like a rag doll into the house and set you down in the kitchen.

You shivered slightly - involuntarily - but Lockwood noticed. He draped a large blanket over you, boiling some water for hot tea. He grabbed the first aid kit from under the sink and sat down in front of you.

He held out his hand for yours, "Let me clean it for you." So you do.

He spent the better part of the next hour meticulously cleaning every scratch and scrape he can find - only slowing down when you wince, or to pour you more tea. He makes it how you like it - a spoonful of sugar and a dash of milk

Once he's done, he lifts you again and carries you to bed, tucking you in like a mother would their child. He turns out the lights with a soft goodnight and crosses the landing to his own bedroom. The first floor is plunged into darkness, but you stare up at the ceiling.

Sleep doesn't come to you easily. When you close your eyes, the maid's face is above yours - her hand reaching out to you, beckoning you. You want to take it. You see her holding Elizabeth, cradling her as she cries. Your grandpa's face comes up next to the maid and you see your grandpa die. How he screams for you to help him as the plasm burns through his skin. Your mother blames you - tells you that she should never have let you go to Fittes. The maid shields Elizabeth from the loud arguing coming from upstairs. No, not from upstairs. The arguing is happening below you. You shake yourself awake from your restless night, wincing as you contort your bruised body. You slip on your Fittes hoodie and creep downstairs.

Lucy and Lockwood are facing off in the kitchen. Again. You sit on the step, listening in.

"She told you she didn't want to go! And now, there's a chance she won't be able to go into the field."

"She'll be fine. She's tough, she'll get through it."

"You don't know that, Lockwood! You can't just assume that everything will be fine just because you want it to be." You could hear Lucy's voice breaking as she fought back tears.

"Maybe, she won't want to go on missions anymore," George piped up. Clearly, he'd been forced to sit there through breakfast and listen to the argument, "After all, you didn't listen to her doubts when she said she was scared."

"No, she didn't. She just had nerves."

"No, Lockwood. I was terrified. And you didn't hear me out."

"You're awake!" Lucy threw her arms around you, hugging you tightly. "God, I'm so happy you're okay!" You smiled at her warmly, hugging her back. She moved past you, saying something about needing to meet Kipps to finish their case.

"I'd hug you too, but you should probably shower first. Who knows what kind of bacteria fester in hundred-year-old manors? I'll see you after lunch - heading to the archives." George walked out quickly, almost as if he was being chased out by rats.

Lockwood stood in front of you, straight as a board, "You look like you've been electrocuted. Sit down. I'm not going to bite." Lockwood sent a weak smile in your direction.

You poured yourself a mug of tea and put some bread in the toaster. You made a mental note to send George a shopping list before he came back.

"So..." Lockwood started, and you wanted to laugh. In the almost three years you'd lived with him, you'd never seen him so nervous.

"So?"

"We should probably talk about what happened back there." Ah. He wanted to do this now.

"Yeah. We probably should."

"What happened? I mean, one minute you were fine, the next you were unconscious in the kitchen?" Lockwood said, leaning back in his chair slightly.

You grabbed your mug and sat in the chair opposite him, "Was I, though?" Lockwood raised his eyebrows, "Was I really fine, Lockwood, or did you just want me to be fine?"

"I don't understand?"

"Lockwood, I voiced my doubts to you! I told you to let it go! That this was a case we didn't have to take! That we'd find something better." You were standing now, leaning over the table, staring Lockwood down.

"Worth more than 90 grand? Do you have any concept of how much money that is?"

"YES! YES, LOCKWOOD, I DO! IT'S NOT NEARLY ENOUGH MONEY! We fought how many ghosts? 10? 12? Do you even consider that?"

"14, actually."

"YOU ARE NOT HELPING YOURSELF. YOU MAY BE THE LITTLE PRODIGY OF FITTES, BUT SOME OF US ARE NORMAL. SOME OF US ARE AVERAGE." You sat back down, your legs shaking. You were still too weak to force this argument. Your voice trembled, "I can't keep up with you, Lockwood, none of us can. Lucy, maybe, but even she needs a break. Hell, even you need a break sometimes."

"We're fine, aren't we? We're all alive and kicking, still fighting ghosts another day?"

"Yeah, but for how long? How long do we keep getting to cheat death?" How long until one of us gets buried for the unnecessary risks we keep taking? You didn't say it but the question took root in the back of your mind.

Lockwood sighed, "I don't know where this is even coming from. We survived. We did the job. We got our money. Aren't you happy-"

"HAPPY! HOW CAN I BE HAPPY, LOCKWOOD? I DON'T KNOW WHAT HAPPENED IN THAT HOUSE YESTERDAY! One minute, we were sealing up a source, the next I was being lured in by a Type Two, ghost-locked and bleeding. Somehow, my GRANDPA WAS THERE, AND THEN I'M UNCONCIOUS ON THE FLOOR. NONE OF IT MAKES SENSE, nothing - nothing makes sense. I feel - I feel like my brain's been scrambled. It just - I can't - I don't-" Lockwood kneeled next to you, his palm gently cradling your face, and let you cry. You stayed there for a few seconds before you looked up into his face, eyes brimming with tears, "You know what the - what the worst part was?"

"What was the worst part, honey?" There it was again, the nickname. Your heart skipped slightly at the sound of it.

"That you couldn't hear me." Lockwood looked at you, pain sweeping over his expression. "I called for you. In the servants' quarters. I needed you, but you couldn't hear me. I screamed and I cried and I begged and I- I needed you, Lockwood."

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his lap, before stroking your hair. You cried into his shirt, the white fabric turning translucent in the dampness.

"I will always come." He whispered to you, eyes bright with determination. "I may not have always been there before, but I will be now. I promise. No matter where or when, if you call, I will come to you." He cradled your face in his hands again, thumbs gently rubbing away your tears, "I will listen to you - and George, and Lucy. If you tell me you're scared, I'll hear you. I won't take jobs out of greed, we'll make decisions together. We're a team. I'm sorry I haven't been acting like it."

You wrapped your arms around his neck, tucking yourself into his neck, "I like the sound of that."

You felt Lockwood smile against your neck. "I'll take care of you. If you'll let me."

You pulled back, "Taking care of each other goes both ways. You have to let me take care of you too." He scoffed lightly, but you knew that he had agreed. He couldn't ever say no to you. Not even at Fittes.

"As much as I hate to ruin the moment, George was right. I don't want to think about how much bacteria was probably growing in that house." Lockwood helped you up, "You should probably shower." You nodded your head, chuckling lightly. You grabbed Lockwood's phone from the table and before he could steal it back, you sent a text on the group chat.

"We need food. PLS. WE HAVE NOTHING." You threw him his phone as you ran up the stairs. Lockwood laughed at the text.

"They'll know it's you." He said waving his phone as you grabbed your towel.

"Or they'll have a heart attack knowing that Frosty can change his mind."

fin.

buy me a coffee

[underifran]

The Reflection of Us

Summary: Being in a relationship with an Idol was hard enough, you didn’t need the added stress of other women flirting with him. Good thing he knows you better than you know yourself.

Genre: Slight Angst, Smut, Fluff

Pairing: Hyunjin x Reader

Warnings: Jealousy, Insecurity, Self Doubt

Word Count: 3.8k

A.N: I wrote this as a gift to my best friend, and now I’m spiraling into wanted to make 100 more.

══════ ══════

══════ ══════

These celebrity parties normally never bothered me. I was used to smiling and just nodding my head as big name idols rambled to me about a lifestyle I completely didn't understand. But that was okay. I didn’t mind and often I enjoyed getting to know more about the life Hyunjin lived.

When we first started seeing each other two years ago, I made it clear that I didn’t want to share that type of lifestyle with him yet. I wanted something quieter, more romantic. But of course that only got to last a while, luckily we both knew it would happen. That Hyunjins relationship with me would get leaked. It was horrible at first, with fans sending death threats and him needing extra security. But now things have settled down and as my punishment I get to go to these parties.

Worse was that these were not just social events for the boys but also work. Which meant Hyunjin was off playing the politics of his life. And I was forced to listen as Changbin listed off all his reasons for getting the idols to play a baseball tournament.

“Oh come on, you have to see it right? All of us in those cute little outfits running around? The fans would eat out of our hands! Imagine how cute Hyunjinnie would look.”

“Bin, your fans would be too focused on how bad you all are to pay attention to the outfits.” I said while taking a sip of champagne. It was expensive and still tasted like shit.

“Where is your boyfriend, I need someone to team up with,” and with that he started whipping his head around to look for Hyunjin. I was completely unbothered by his antics so I just shook my head and looked down to check the time on my phone. But when I looked back I saw that his eyes had grown three sizes bigger. I followed Changbins gaze to the corner of the room where Hyunjin was sitting on a chair with two girls on each arm rest. They were giggling at something he said, and touching his shoulder flirtatiously.

Not here. Don't make a scene, anywhere but here.

As if he could feel the jealousy radiating off me, Changbin turned to me trying to diffuse the situation. “I’m sure he doesn’t even realize what they're doing.”

I took my glass of champagne and swished it down in one gulp. “No, maybe not, but I’m not sure that makes it any better.”

I couldn’t stop myself from staring at them. The way both girls would lean into his sides. It was driving me crazy. It made me even more sick when I saw Hyunjin look up and smile at one of them. What kind of game was he playing? Did he want cheating rumors to start, because this is exactly how you get into that kind of scandal. Or maybe he just genuinely enjoyed the attention. The thought he was enjoying himself started a deep burning in my chest and before I knew it my vision was blurring.

Sometimes it felt like Hyunjin knew something was wrong when he shouldn't. There have been too many days after work where I couldn’t find the energy to make an effort, and before I could even tell him, he’d be calling me. Telling me how much he loves me, and that no matter what he’d be there for me. That sixth sense he had, must have been the reason his brows scrunched and he looked up to meet my glare.

There was no way from that distance he could have seen me on the verge of crying. But I guess from my deep set frown he knew something was wrong. He started to get up but one of the girls started pouting, put a hand on his chest and pulled him back into the chair. I saw him say something to the girl but then the other put her hand on his thigh. Way too high for it to be innocent. And that was enough for me. I wasn’t going to sit here and watch my boyfriend get felt up.

“Hey Bin, can I take your dorm key? I left my car keys there and I’m not feeling too well.” I let the lie slip out even though I knew he was going to call my bluff.

“It’s pretty cold outside, do you want me to call you a taxi?”

“No really, I’d rather walk. Give me a chance to ease my stomach.” He gave me a sympathetic look before digging into his pockets to retrieve a key. He dropped it in my hand before walking off in the direction of Chan and Felix.

I didn’t waste any more time, and rushed to grab my coat and head for the doors. The air outside instantly nipped at my nose and cheeks. Changbin wasn’t kidding, it was unbearably cold. But the temperature was helping cool down the fire burning inside of me. Every time I thought of her fingers grazing his thigh it ignited stronger. Why didn’t he stop them? Was he really enjoying it like I thought? I know that he’s surrounded by beautiful idols every day but never once have I ever felt insecure. Not until then at least. That definitely made me insecure, hyper aware of every flaw on my body.

Three quick beeps from my phone pulled me out of my spiraling thoughts.

From My Love <3

9:52 pm

Hey sweetheart, where did you go? I saw you one second and then you were gone.

9:52 pm

Please tell me you aren’t walking home.

9:53 pm

Changbin told me you left and then called me an idiot…? Did I do something????

I didn’t have the energy for it. I just wanted to get back to my apartment and sleep. I clicked my phone off and instantly another text came through

From My Love <3

9:54 pm

I know you saw those. You’re making me anxious. Can you please tell me what’s going on baby? I can’t leave for a bit more, will you at least let me know you’re okay?

A petty thought came to me, one that I knew wasn’t right but I wanted to hurt him like how I felt hurt. If he was fine with having two random girls flirt with him all night, then he would be perfectly fine not knowing if I was okay or not. Imagining him panicking over me made me feel a little better, which also made me feel insanely guilty. Whatever, he could handle one night of worrying about me.

The rest of the walk didn’t feel real. I couldn’t recall a single thing from my walk, only that my insides were too numb for me to register any of the numbing on the outside. But when I walked into the dorm building, my ears started to hurt from the cold. I really needed a shower, something to warm me up and calm me down.

It was rare that the dorms were this quiet. It was nice.

I figured I still had a good few hours before any of them came home, and Hyunjins shower had one of those waterfall heads that dropped soft water. I opened the door and turned on the water as hot as it would go. A smile crept onto my face as I thought about how Hyunjin has screamed and called me his demon in the past whenever I got in first. But that smile soon disappeared as the thought connected me to everything from tonight, and it hit me again like a train. A scream was threatening to spill past my lips but instead only a choked sob came out. I let my legs give out as I sat and nothing could stop the onslaught of tears.

What was wrong with me? Was I not enough for him? Did he want something more than what I could give? I couldn’t compete with those girls, who am I even kidding. Maybe it would be easier on everyone if he dated someone from the celebrity world. He shouldn’t even be with someone like me. I should take some space from him.

The waves of thoughts were exhausting me more and more. I needed to get home. Sleep would bring clarity, surely it would.

When I stepped out of the bathroom, the steam shrouded around me. Looking up from the ground, I was met with the red and puffy eyes of Hyunjin. I nearly screamed, not expecting anyone home, and feeling all too vulnerable in only a towel.

“He told me you left because of me…” he started but trailed off when he had to wipe away a few stray tears. It took everything in me not to caress his pretty face.

“Yeah...”

He just nodded, and sat looking even more devastated. I couldn’t handle it, I needed him to leave or I was going to lose my resolve. “Please, can you get out? I need to get dressed.”

“Since when have you ever been shy about your body with me?”

”Since now Hyunjin.”

“B-but I’ve literally painted your naked body before. I’ve stared at it for hours. Thirty seconds of changing is nothing compared to that.”

I’m not sure why it upset me, but it did. “Mmhm, and that was before I felt like I was competing with other women. Now I don't want you to see me naked.”

His eyes softened a bit but there were still more tears threatening to spill, and I absolutely hated how beautiful he looked with the added sparkle. “Baby… Is that what this is about? About Seoyun and Jiwoo?” So he knew them? I didn’t know if that should have made it better or worse but I felt the familiar burn start in my chest. He shouldn’t have left, I didn't want him to follow me. Seoyun and Jiwoo would make better company.

“Hyun, please leave.”

“No.”

“Why are you being so difficult? Can’t you see you’ve upset me and I want to be alone?”

A small, exasperated giggle fell from his swollen lips. “I didn’t upset you. You got jealous.”

I rolled my eyes extra hard at that. “I don’t get jealous.”

“Then why did you leave the party so suddenly?”

“Because I felt sick.”

“Because you thought I was flirting back,” he said more as a statement rather than a question.

“No because watching you with them made me realize how terrible we look together!” It exploded out of me before I even had the chance to think. I regretted it immediately.

“Come here.”

“Hyun no I don’t—”

“Sweetheart. I said come here.”

He said it with such authority I felt like I had no choice but to listen. I let my legs carry me over to stand in front of him. But that wasn’t enough for him, he wanted, needed me closer. His hands came to my back, and pushed me to sit on top of his lap, straddling him.

My eyes were closed, I knew I couldn’t look at him. I felt his soft hands push a strand of my wet hair behind my ear and his hand lingered a bit longer, swiping at the remains of old tears.

“There is only you…” He whispered as his lips ghosted under my ears, “there will only ever be you.” I hated how easy it was for him to affect me. The evidence of goosebumps spread across my arms gave him the push he needed to keep going. “Look at me, my love.”

And I listened again. I opened my eyes and stared into his. He was searching for something, but I didn’t know what. I stayed quiet hoping he would continue so I didn’t have to reply. I knew if I opened my mouth, I wouldn’t be able to control what I said.

“When I have interactions with other women at parties like that, it means nothing to me. Truthfully it makes me quite annoyed but this is my life. I can’t risk coming across as rude even if I’m uncomfortable. I let them delve into their little fantasy because it’s easier. Seoyun and Jiwoo are the nieces of one of the big donors of JYP. My managers would have killed me if they said anything about bad manners.”

“It's not fair… I don’t want them to fantasize about you.”

A shit eating grin spread across his face when I said that. “You do realize what our fans fantasize about right?” God, I really hated him sometimes. I lightly slapped his shoulder and tried to push away from him, but his arms wrapped around my waist and wouldn’t let me move. I kept struggling to slip away and it was useless because his hold was concrete. “Hey don’t try to wiggle out of this!” He laughed and started kissing my neck. It instantly sent shockwaves through my body and my groans of displeasure turned into moans of contentment. I was embarrassed of how quickly the anger melted off of me.

The anger disappeared completely when I felt him harden in response to my moans.

“Hyunnie…”

“When I look at you love, I see art. It’s why you're the subject of most of my paintings. No flowers, oceans, or fields of green could compare to you. Those girls are nothing more than a business transaction. You are my muse, not them. There’s no reason to be jealous because you don’t belong in the same world as them.”

“Ah—No more, no more… I feel like I’m going to explode from too many emotions.”

“Then is it okay with you if I show you how beautiful we look together?”

I couldn’t do anything but nod my head weakly up and down. He moved me off his lap and walked over to his dresser before shoving it roughly in front of the bed. “Baby what are you—” I asked but I was met with a sly smile and a shushing sound, so I did nothing but sit there and watch as he moved his large full body mirror to lean on the dresser. Excited panic started to rush up my spine. Oh my god he wasn’t going to. Was he?

My question was answered quickly when Hyunjin came behind me and sat on his knees with me in between them. If the fandom knew him from one thing, it would be his cocky confidence. The way he was able to turn anyone into putty in his hands was a divine gift. One that he used often against me. I couldn’t help but blush as I realized what his intention was, so in order to take a chance to breathe I looked down and stared at the floor. But he wasn’t having any of that, and his beautiful fingers clenched my jaw and forced me to look him in the eyes through the mirror. All too soon he removed his fingers carefully as if to gauge if I’d try to look away. When he decided it was safe he pulled away fully and his fingers went to the buttons of his shirt.

When I thought earlier that Hyunjin shouldn’t be with someone like me, this is exactly what I meant. He was too pretty for his own good. As if he was made to be looked at. And I couldn’t look away. The way his brows scrunched in focus as he finished unbuttoning sent tingles to my thighs and I subconsciously pressed them together trying to ease the ache he was creating. After discarding the shirt on the floor he nimbly removed his pants, throwing them across the room.

“Now,” he started. “Look at how beautiful you are.” And he hovered over my hand that was desperately holding onto the towel. I gave in immediately and let him pull the towel down. We were both staring at each other through the glass. His eyes darkened and a hungry look took over his features. It was rare for Hyunjin to get this possessive, this dominant. Staring didn’t last long, he was getting impatient I could tell by the way he subtly arched his hips into my back. Suddenly, he pushed me down so my face was pressed against the bed and my ass was up, all of my intimate parts on full display to him. No matter how many times he saw me naked, I couldn’t help the blush that would paint my cheeks.

“I’m going to make you cum on my fingers, and you’re going to be a good princess and watch how pretty you are when you cum, okay love?”

“O-okay.” Was all I could stammer out before I saw him take the band around his wrist and throw his hair half up out of his eyes. Fuck, he was doing it on purpose. His eyes met mine again as he twirled a strand out of the pony tail and let it fall. He knew this hairstyle made me flustered. Whenever he did it at practice he would purposely send me a picture to tease me. And that’s what he was doing right now. That cheeky grin was back, and a groan slipped past my lips.

“Hyunnie, if you’re going to tease me all night, I’m going to go back to being mad at you,” I said.

“Oh? Is that so…” He trailed off and I felt those godly fingers slip between my folds. “You’re too wet to be mad at me sweetheart. You would dare leave.”

The feeling of his fingers dancing on me was making me dizzy and if I didn’t get more soon I was going to pass out. I started grinding myself back onto him. Thankfully he finally listened and those sweet fingers pushed inside me. He was slow at first, taking his time as he eased a second finger in. I caught a glimpse of us in the mirror and moaned at the sight. Hyunjin had one hand placed on my ass, and the other pumping in and out of me at a fast pace. The way he stared, captivated by me sent another shock to my brain and I could feel my orgasm bubbling.

“Fuck… God.. Ugh baby look at you. I’m going to cum just from looking at you. You wanna cum baby? You wanna cum on my fingers?”

“Yes, god please, please, please, yes.”

“Give it to me then baby. Cum for me.”

And as if his every word held some supernatural force over me I did. I screamed out his name as I came around those stupid fucking fingers.

“Did you see how pretty you looked, love?”

Oh fuck. “I’m sorry, it felt so good baby I closed my eyes.”

He tsked, and I felt him shed his underwear. “I guess I have to do it again then and make sure you’re watching huh?” This side of Hyunjin made me weak in every way. I felt drunk on the dominance he was feeding me. I loved taking the lead with him normally but I couldn’t lie to myself. It felt insane to let him use me however he wanted.

Before I knew it, I could feel him plunge himself into me in one slick thrust. The remains of the previous orgasm made it too easy for him to slide in. He let out a breathy moan and I snapped my eyes to the mirror to watch him. The image was so lewd. Hyunjin had both hands on my hips as he set a quick pace. I stared in awe as I watched him fuck me. Both of our moans joined together. He was right, we did look beautiful together. I nearly came when I saw him let out a light laugh and swipe his tongue over his teeth as he let out a vulgar moan.

Watching him was bringing me closer and closer to another orgasm.

“Mmm feel so good baby, I’m not gonna last much longer if you keep clenching me like that.” He said breathlessly.

He was fucking me at a ruthless pace now, chasing his own high as he took quick deep thrusts. I couldn’t take it anymore, it felt so good. I let my head rest on the bed and closed my eyes for only a moment.

“Nuh uh, we’re not doing that again,” he said as he reached forward and pulled my hair back towards him. The pain forced another loud moan out of me and it only encouraged him to go harder. I could tell he was closer from the way his eyebrows knit together and his thrusts became sloppy and greedy. He looked completely fucked out.

“Need you baby, need you to cum in me.” I managed to get out.

“Oh fuck…” and he fucked into me impossibly deeper. He still had a fist full of my hair forcing me to look in the mirror. I came instantly when I felt the warm jets of cum fill me, clenching around him in flutters.

He pulled me closer to his body and I felt the sticky sweat cling to my skin. His head was resting on my shoulder and I felt him watching me through the mirror, breathing heavily. I took a breath before I looked to meet his gaze.

“See? Beautiful. We belong together. You fit me like a puzzle piece.”

I felt a pang of guilt wash over me and quickly slid off of him and turned to sit in his lap.

“I’m so sorry I was so cold to you. I just got so insecure.”

“It’s okay sweetheart. I understand completely. But no more being a brat to me over jealousy okay? That’s my thing.” I couldn’t help but giggle at him. He was truly the best, and I couldn’t have asked for a more caring boyfriend.

“Yeah I’ll leave the dramatics and brattiness to you. I don’t wanna feel jealous ever again.”

“Really? Not even after I fucked the jealousy out of you?”

“Hyunjin!”

“What! It’s true.” He giggled. God I loved him. I never hated him. I pressed my lips to him and felt him melt into my touch.

“I love you.” I whispered.

“I love you too.” He replied.

His eyes looked at me so innocently and I felt that school girl crush creep up on me. What did I do to ever deserve him?

“You deserve me.”

“How did you even—“

“I told you, you are my muse, love. I know you better than you know yourself. Come on, let's get you cleaned up and go cuddle. I expect two hours of back rubs as an apology for thinking I’d ever choose anyone but you.”

And with that he stood and took my hand leading me back into the bathroom. A smile crept onto my face and I thought about how beautiful we looked together. I felt all of the worry melt off of me and something warmer, softer spread throughout my body.

[lunar-years]

Oh man oh man oh man if Phoebe, who is basically co-parented by Uncle Roy, gets a sibling who comes with her own dad? I feel like that’s SO crunchy, because if Roy is there as the *third* adult instead of the second he’s not going to be as involved as he was with Phoebe and I feel like there’s going to be so many complicated feelings about that for Phoebe. (Including probably some “good, I don’t have to share” feelings lol.)

YEAH. Listen I love the headcanon because it's SO crunchy along the way but then it ends really happily because their little family expands and more love is never a bad thing <3 also ROY & Co. WITH A LITTLE BABY!!! <3<3 let's appreciate the vision!!

but yeah I think like, if Roy's sister (who i'm going to call Ruth for the sake of the rest of my response because it's too difficult to not use a name and keep everyone straight lmao) was seriously dating someone and then was like hey we're getting married and then shortly thereafter was like oh yeah by the way I'm pregnant:

Roy would definitely go through it a bit because in my head, he didn't realize what was happening/how it really was between Ruth and Phoebe's Dad until Ruth was already like, REALLY in it. Maybe he even liked the guy. I sort of think he did, just because it's extra prickly and it adds to the intense anger over the situation we see him express in canon. Like, not only is he mad at himself for not realizing how Ruth was being treated, he's also mad that he didn't see the signs and wasn't around when he needed to be, and he's furthermore mad that he was friendly with this guy the times he'd met him when he of course should have known to slug him in the face in advance from the first time he met him, etc. Irrational thought patterns, you know how it is.

So. His panicky brain realistically knows this ISN'T the same. But he's also extra vigilant, especially now that he not only has Ruth to worry about but also Phoebe. So he really has to talk things through with his therapist and Ruth and express his fears to Jamie and Keeley before he really can start to feel okay about the whole thing.

Then once he's accepted Ruth's new boo and is excited for all of them, he gets hit with the "you're getting a new niece or nephew!" news, which sets off the panic alarms AGAIN. because what if he's used up all his good uncle juices on Phoebes and there's not enough left over for the new kid? (i just think Roy tragically overthinks everything lmao)

Also, and the Bigger Thing, is how does he navigate just having to be an uncle to this child without the extra responsibility of having to be a co-parent to them like he's been for Phoebe? What's the balance there? And can he step back to let this new person into Phoebe's life, and what if he fills up the role Roy has in her life and pushes Roy out completely? He wants to give as much of himself to this new child as he'd given to Phoebe but he doesn't quite know what new role to play.

Meanwhile Phoebe is having a similar crisis about accepting this new person and then a new sibling into her home. As you say, she doesn't want Roy to not be there in the same way he's always been there, and she also has all the typical pre-teen angst and this is just one more thing. She doesn't want anything to change. She'd very skeptical of this new guy who is suddenly always around. Why does her mum even like him? etc. etc.

This is a great opportunity for Phoebe and Jamie bonding and an Uncle Jamie teaching moment, because Jamie of course also has a stepparent, and one I personally believe he was VERY skeptical of when Simon first came into his life. So he can share with Phoebe the role Simon's played in his own life and in doing so, gently encourage her to give Ruth's partner a chance. ❤️

everything ends up all right of course. Ruth's partner is a wonderful person who slides right into the family and is very patient with Phoebe and Roy both. And they all instantly fall in love with new baby. Phoebe would be the best big sister. I think it would just be really exciting for everyone involved!!

[simpingland]

Come and rest// Aemond Targaryen x Lannister!oc.

Storms are Bryanne's biggest fears, aside from many other things. In the night, Aemond invite her to his chambers, promising to protect her from the storm and many other things.

※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※

It was night time when Aemond heard the footsteps heading towards his door. He was still awake, with the fireplace still but no candle was lighted. He sited on a chair, cleaning carefully one of his favorite daggers. A storm was happening outside, so he wasn't surprised when she knocked on his door. He smiled a bit when the knocks were much more soft and timid than one would expect it, because she was clearly scared. He opened the door and there she was, Brynne Lannister, the purple lion, or at least thats what they called her. She was wearing a purple night gown, her golden and curly hair lose, contrary to her everyday look, and her eyes meet Aemond's eyes, including the sapphire one. She was surprised by the sudden eye, being the first time she sees it. So she froze there, in the door, no word coming out of her mouth, something quite unusual too.

"Never seen a blue eye in your life, my lady?"asked Aemond.

"I... I have never seen a sapphire that big in my life, my prince" she saved that, like Lannister always saved themselves from situations, just by talking.

"Hm...that sounds right, gold is not as impressive as a good stone" he smirked.

"But it definitely has a bigger reach, hasn't it?" She was clearly gaining confidence by the moment. But she was still at the door, but a smile formed on her lips. Aemond invited her in with a gesture and she entered. "There's not many of this on Casterly Rock..."

"You mean the storms or the sapphire?" He looked at her while she walked around the room, distracting herself from his gaze or the sound of the storm.

"Both" she looked at him.

"And which is the one that scares you?"

"If it was the sapphire then I wouldn't have walked in here, my prince" she have heard about the new eye of the prince, everyone knew about it, but no body has ever seen it, at least not people outside the family, or at least the court thought that. He felt good when Brynne looked at him in the eyes while responding, it felt good to have someone you appreciate feel confortable in your presence, being yourself.

"I'm afraid my room is as close to the skies as yours, lady Brynne" he said while she took a sit next to the chair where Aemond sit a moment ago. "How does this bring you more confort?"

"You know I'm scared of storms" she said.

"Everybody knows that"

"But you are the only one who doesn't laugh at me" she said smiling at him.

"I don't find your fear something funny" he admitted.

She smiled down at the dagger.

They have known each other since Helaena was ten and four, Alicent wanted her only daughter to become much more awake and tuned with her reality, and to be aware of the danger of the Red Keep, also becoming much more lady like with some company as well. When Tyland Lannister mentioned the achievements her youngest daughter had done according to her septa, she asked for her to join the Keep, to accompany her daughter. Tyland felt divided, he loved the idea of having her daughter closer to him but hated the fact that she would be thrown into the game. But he couldn't refuse, its was the Queen's idea and the King only saw it as a beneficial idea. So she came on a boat, that's how Aemond saw her for the first time, along with his siblings. He was too depressed by his recently missing eye to pay too much attention to another silly girl. But he was surprised by the court she dedicated to him, with a very big smile on her face. She also hold her sister's hands and spoke with sweet words to Helaena, who was mostly ignored by the rest of the ladies at court. Every time he would walk into Helaena's room she would be there,listening to her, insects on her hair, hand or shoulder. Helaena was too lost in her explanations to notice the blush on the girls face, as she felt incredibly uncomfortable, but was too kind to say it. Aemond on the other hand, was the one who took the insects away from her and became suddenly interested in their talks, just to get her out of the poor girl. The King used to throw a dinner with the Lords at court every once in a while and in those, Aemond watch as Bryanna sat with Helaena but would pay attention to the talks of his father and the King, becoming aware of many official matters that she would then speak about with Aemond. She was the only competition Aemond had on his academics, often praised by the maester and septas for her knowledge of history and geography, she would know the name of every Lord visitor and their wives and children and incoming wars and confrontations. They all knew that Brianne was one of the most intelligent people in the court. The ability Aemond had with his weapons was the ability Brianne had with attracting people. mornings, she and her father rode around the capital, and the time he heard them speak he would catch on his way of treating her, he was raising a smart girl, or a smart woman, not letting her act in the wildest of her nature. But he loved her and she would speak wonders of him as well. Aemond felt jealous of her relationship with him, but he never let that get into their friendship. Aegon did moslest her, though. He was always saying the most inappropriate things to a lady, sexualizing her non stop. She didn't hold back many times, always with a sassyness response. Must people kept quiet, siding with the prince Aegon, but Aemond supported her publicly and Helaena always laughed. And as they grew up, they became much closer to each other. It was Aemond the one always asking for Bryanne's opinion, dedicating her a rare smile that she longed every moment she wasn't near him. The amount of respect he holded for the girl made her confident and Aemond felt appreciated like a normal person should be, not for achievements or positions, just because he was he. She understood his pain and he understood her pressure for her duties. Many afternoons they said goodbye go Helaena and walked together around the castle. Aemond always walked her to her chamber, she always dragged him by the longest halls, no short cuts. Everytime they crossed paths, both of them could feel lighter, relief in their faces, at least for a few moments in the day. But marriage was never on the talks, as marriage for Aemond was a political reservation and for Brianne was a economic matter.

It was on Briannes ten and five name day and the queen gifted her a feast celebrated for her. Her entire family came to visit, along with many Lords, possible suitors. They gifted her a big amount of jewellery,dresses and perfumes. But Aemond offered her something better, he woke early in the morning, walked to her room and asked her to join him on a flight on Vhagar. She was more scared than excited about it, but she also knew that she was offered to fly on the Queen Visenya's dragon, an offer which many could only dream about. A king gave off his kingdom just to experience what she was freely offered. So Aemond took her to the Dragonspit. She hold into Aemond's chest and put her legs tight into Aemond's legs in such a trusting way that the prince was glad his face was out of her reach, only the Gods would see it. They flew to Tarth.

"The blue of it's water gives them the name of the Sapphire Isle" she said long ago. They watched the beautiful place from the sky, and they came back an hour later, just like he promised his mother. When they came down from the dragon, Brianne felt too shy, but she really wanted to kiss him. But she just said goodbye. Later that night, the feast happened, she walked alone to the room, a purple gown, a very special one gifted by her mother. Tyland toasted in her honor and then, music started. She looked at Aemond, who couldn't put his eyes away from her all night. The girl made a gesture with her head to indicate him to dance. He stood up and asked for a dance, which she accepted with a grin. Everybody looked at them, as the first dance of the night was started with them. Aemond felt the most honored that day, most honoured than ever in his life.

He was remembering this night while sitting with her that stormy night.

"I recall how scared you were when I dragged you to met Vaghar " said Aemond.

"And I recall how tense you were when I dragged you to the dance floor" she laughed.

"I wasn't scared "

"I said tense, not scared" she pointed. "Buy you sure were a great dance partner"

"I wasn't insecure of my skills as a dancer" he said. "I was just surprised you chose me"

"Aemond" she knew exacly why he said that. "Who else would I chose? Aegon?"

"Aegon will inherit the throne"

"Rhaenyra is the heir of the throne, my prince..." she stated, but she was aware of the Greens feeling about that. "A was is coming, isn't it?"

"You can't change the order without a confrontation, Brianne" he said, not looking at her.

"I...I am scared, my prince. Are you scared?" She asked, Aemond kept quiet. "If Rhaenyra wins the war, I'll be her enemy, the Lannisters have sided with the Greens for way too long...she will make me and my family dissappear. But if Aegon is King..." a loud lightning strike on the sky, making her jump in her seat.

"The storm seems to be going to be happening all night. You will do well by sleeping now" sentenced the prince. She stood up, walking away. "No, stay my lady..."

"But then what about you?"

"It won't be the first time I sleep in the sofa, the fire is enough " he opened his bed, offering it to her. "Come, Bryanne. Come and rest".

She accepted, getting into bed alone, covering herself. But she saw Aemond sitting on the fireplace, still awake.

"I can not sleep If I see you there awake " she begged.

"The close your eyes, my lady"

"Aemond, please, come here with me...you'll be warmer".

This was enough for him. He took off his shoes and belt. When he entered the bed, she covered him, making sure he got side of the blanket, and she rested her hand on his chest.

"You gave me a kiss after the dance" said Aemond, trying to distract her from the horrible sounds of lightnings.

"I gave you two kisses, actually" she pointed, smiling at the memory. "One on the cheek" she pointed her finger at his left cheek.

"And the other here" he pointed to the corner of Brianne's mouth.

"Because you walked me to my room...".

They locked eyes for a moment before Aemond spoke again.

"If Rhaenyra wins the war, we will dissappear together. If Aegon is crowned King, I will push his crown on his head so hard that he would be blinded, I will put myself infront of you so he will not find you, I will cut his hand so he never touch you, not even the longest skirts of your dresses. I will cut his nose so he could never smell your hair or your sweetness in your voice. He will never bother you again" he promised. "Marry me, Bry, let me take you as my wife, let me protect you as much as I love you"

Her eyes shined from the tears and even in the night time, Aemond could see the emotional expression in her face. It was now she the one without words.she put their foreheads together and caressing their noses. Then she kisse him, a long and passionate kiss. Aemond let himself melt in her embrace and they kissed all night, a storm striking outside, but it stopped bothering them, as they slept together all night, Aemond with his face in her neck, and Bryanne smelling his silver hair.

[tgammsideblog]

June Chen redemption arc prediction

Some time ago i answered an ask about June's arc in this season. Having in mind that plenty of episodes have aired since then and we have gotten more information about the Chens' role in the upcoming episodes, i think it would be a good idea to write a follow up to that June post i posted all those weeks ago.

First of all, one thing that can be highlighted about June as ghosthunter is that she is more aggressive when it comes to dealing with ghosts. A good example of this is how in ¨Frightmares On Main Street¨ she changes the type of shot from the ghost gun to ¨extreme dealy¨. She hesitates a lot less than Ollie when it comes to hunting ghosts. In contrast Ollie only was seen tracking ghosts and trapping Scratch in the same episode. He never appeared to have intentions of hurting Scratch, only interrogate him, probably because he was confused by how Molly was hanging out with him.

This more direct approach to dealing with ghosts could make June a bit harder to persuade and show her that ghosts aren't evil. She seems to be more ¨shoot first, ask questions later¨, so she could turn out to be a lot more stubborn that Ollie was in ¨Frightmares On Main Street¨. She may even impose a bigger threat for Molly and Scratch if they try talking her down.

However, June isn't totally unreasonable as she did listen to Ollie when he asked her to not shoot Scratch when he was trapped in the goo. She was suspicious for a few seconds but later let Scratch be and went to help Esther and Ruben who were trying to capture other ghosts outside.

In the same episode June noticed how the frightmares ghosts got trapped inside the ghost canister (thanks to Scratch's chairman powers), something that shouldn't have worked as she told Ruben that the gadget was only a prototype. Based on her expressions of wondering how the ghost canister worked, it is clear that this is a plot point that is going to become important for her character. It could make her trying to learn more about the true nature of ghosts and thus start changing her mind about them.

Having in mind that it has been confirmed that we are going to see scenes exploring June and Ollie's relationship, it is very likely that Ollie is going to play an important role in trying to change June's view on ghosts. It makes sense, since June isn't seen hanging out with Molly that much and June could be more willing to listen to someone who was raised with the same ideas as her. Not to mention that Ollie may know a way to her sister to understand the situation better than Molly and Scratch would.

Another character that has been hinted that is going to play a role in her arc is Darryl. The episode ¨The New (Para) Normal¨ established their dynamic as something important, they instantly clicked by finding things they had in common while having different personalities. It has been confirmed that that they are going to have a ¨big episode¨ titled ¨The Grand Gesture¨, which was confirmed by Bob Roth on his twitter account. Again, Darryl has been hinted to have a closer bond than Molly shares with June. They both are troublemakers in different ways and have an unique way of viewing the world that their family does. Darryl could bring up that ghosts are misunderstood by humans the same way him and June are sometimes misunderstood by their peers and adults to persuade June into changing her mind. That itself could also be a good opportunity to explore a different side of her character too.

As how her arc could go, i think it could happen in two ways or a mix of them: One, she is more stubborn and agressive when it comes to trying to understand ghosts and it could be harder for her to get what the other characters are trying to explain to her. Two, she doesn't take that long to change her views in contrast to Ollie since she could be able to relate to way ghosts feel misunderstood by humans, thus taking less time for her to join the ¨Ghost Friends¨ team.

The last ¨step¨ of her arc would involve her and Ollie trying to change Ruben and Esther's minds in the final conflict. Both of them standing up against her parents and calling them out for these harmful ideas that were taught to them, showing them that they were wrong about it.

Whatever direction her arc takes, i'm looking forward to see how it differs from Ollie's and how June's growth is going to be. From what it has been hinted so far by both the series and the crew, she is going to have an important involvement in the story during the upcoming episodes and a crucial role in the conclusion to the Chens family arc in this season.

[maranull]

Sometimes there are days when you're just feeling under the weather. Whether it's stress or poor sleep or some other problems, sometimes you just come home feeling down, you know?

Can I have some headcanons for Elden Ring girls comforting the reader when they're feeling down like that?

Especially Malenia (⁠๑⁠•⁠﹏⁠•⁠)

Also, thank you so much for doing these, they bring me so much warmth and comfort. I hope things go your way in life, have a good one <3

Hug, you're killing me, my heart. Thank you. <3 And I'm really glad you like these!

~

Melina:

She sticks very close to you. She won't outright hug you unless you ask, but you'll notice her brushing her hand on your side very often. Somehow all her work can suddenly be done from your room and she'll also insist to try and make you your favourite food. Depending on the complexity of said food, she'll fail and you'll get take-out, but she'll try dammit! She might even do tiny theatrics (which she almost never does normally) if she thinks she can steal a smile that way. When you decide to talk about what's bothering you, you'll find no better listener. And if she understands that you are looking for solutions and not just vent, she'll have a bunch of smart and practical ideas to help. If you need a hug, she'll hug you in such a way that no matter how bigger you may are physically, you'll feel all encompassed by her embrace. She sometimes kisses your forehead and hands. She's very warm and smells of home.

Ranni:

Ranni doesn't really know what to do. She'll talk a lot about anything that comes to mind, mostly trying to take your mind away from what's bothering you. Between her random attempts of finding a topic that is distracting to you, she'll just give you quick hugs out of nowhere. If all of these fail, she'll sigh, lean on your shoulder and quietly ask what can she do to help. She's a very active listener, and her questions will often make you think from perspectives you haven't touched yet.

Malenia:

While knowing how to comfort you doesn't come naturally to Malenia, she has quite the experience in dealing with shitty situations, so she draws from those experiences to help. When Miquella was having trouble, she used to pet his head, so she does that to you. When she was in pain, he used to tell her stories, sometimes his own, sometimes from a book, so she reads to you too. She doesn't get too close physically (unless you ask, in which case she immediately comes to you, ignoring her Rot-based reservations) but she'll stay next to you and hold your hand, using her thumb to rub it very, very gently. If you do ask for a hug, she'll lift you on her lap and cover you whole. When you talk to her, she's very quiet, but you have this sense that she understands fully what you're saying.

Marika:

She doesn't do comfort. What she will do, is give her whole being into fighting whatever bothers you. Bad day at work? Marika will show up at your boss's bedroom at midnight, give them a very threatening talk (sledgehammer in hand) to chill the fuck down. Bad night? She will find Trina and will give them the most mom-talk of all talks to get them to chill with you. Life being a bitch in general? Girly will fight any and all gods to have you happy. Basically, her instinct is to fight whatever hurts you, consequences be damned.

~

Sorry for taking so long. I'm too slow of a writer and work this week has been a pain and not giving me time to write during work hours (the audacity!).

Anywho, thank you for the ask! This was probably my favourite prompt ever.

<3

[go-river-flows]

Sweet Visions of a flower

Summary: Syulang (OC), an orphaned girl after the destruction of Hometree. She is constanly reminded of this by her amputated left leg and constantly dreams of her deep trauma. Even when she gets adopted by Toruk Makto and his wife, who she resented for over six years before forgiving him.

Part 3 or ?

I let them up into my tented canopy, The boys looked around as young Kiri, sat between her father’s legs. Jake Sully’s eyes stayed looking at me, as I tried avoiding eye contact.

“I'm sorry, this must sound…rude. Can you tell me your name again?” Jake Sully asked. Though I was hesitant, I told him my name.

“Syulang.” 

“Syulang,” he repeated, falling silent. Though he was repeating that name in his head over and over again like a mantra. “You know, I never forgot about you.”

I scoffed lightly, holding back an incredulous laugh. I know it was a lie. I looked at his children and the human one, who now sat down next to me looking at my false leg. His curious eyes got bigger as he looked at it with great intrigue, staring at the mechanism and weaving. 

“I see the great Toruk Makto got busy,” I didn't mean it to come out so rudely. His eyes widened a little bit. I mentally cursed myself for inviting them in. “You don't have to lie, I already know the truth.”

I didn't have to look to know he grimaced at that. 

“You know, as leader of the clan, I have to lead the people. Take care of them. So can you tell me why you’re not with the clan?” he asked calmly, almost gentle. It made me want to cry, I tried repressing those memories, the destruction of Hometree. The death of my parents, friends. My injury. The aftereffects of war. It was all too much. I have nightmares. I prayed to Eywa to forget, but she never helped.

  So I told him about just that. He sat and listened. His children too. They gathered sitting near listening to the story. I was only ten when this all happened, imagine how traumatised I was. How I couldn't stay with the clan as it was a constant reminder of the many losses we suffered, and how both my parents were killed, not just one, but both. How I cried myself to sleep for days, how my Uncle Pawk couldn't calm me. I decided to leave. I feel ghost pains in my left leg. Toruk Makto listened. After that, he thanked me for talking to him, he gathered his children and they left to go back home. That night I had difficulty sleeping so I went to cuddle with my big cat and her babies.

  The following day I woke up against my thanator, her soft purring and warmth much like a mother’s warm embrace. I thanked her for her comfort as I began my day as usual. Drinking some river water, washing my face, hunting fish for the day, washing my body in the lake. Then Lo’a and I went hunting for some meat. 

  After hunting and bringing back a carcass of a fwampop, also known as a Tapirus. Thanking Eywa for the life of the creature. I pet Lo’a’s head as well, thanking her for being by my side. I cut up the meat and wrapped them into portions with leaves, packing the rest of it in a covered hole I used as storage. For the rest of the day, I did my chores, weaving new baskets, collecting fruit, herbal plants and organising my canopy. 

  What I wasn't expecting was the call of an ikran and its rider, landing on the branch just above my home. A huge gust of wind knocked over my many baskets, which bumped my water pot over the edge of my canopy. Shattering it as it collided with the ground a few metres down, nearly smashing on my resting thanator, who made a startled sound looking up at me. Arrgh, I growled in anger, punching the tree trunk, annoyed. A familiar face popped into view from above my tented canopy, just showing their head looking guilty. If not for the situation I would have found it funny. Toruk Makto, Jake Sully. Oh Eywa! I hissed at him, wanting to scratch his eyes out.

“You owe me a pot,” I snarled at him. Slumping down in defeat, “I just cleaned up, you stupid Toruk Makto!” 

His face scrunching up into a guilty yet apologetic expression, a small voice calling out as another face popped into view.

“Hi Syulang!” Neteyam greeted chipperly. I greeted back with a grunt. “Oh wow, it's messy in here,” he stated at the obvious mess, making me grumble with my ears pinned back, arms crossing over my chest with irritation. There came another call of an ikran, it too landing on the branch above, however, gracefully and blowing gentle wind through my canopy home.

“Can we come in?” Neteyam asked. I looked up at the boy and gave a singular nod. “Dad, help me down.” I watched as Jake Sully lowered Neteyam into my canopy. Then a smaller boy, Lo’ak. Who ran over to me, diving into my lap, hugging my torso as I kept my arms on my chest, my ears twitched in annoyance. Finally Jake himself entered my canopy as another Na’vi made themself known. The warrior and Toruk Makto’s wife, Neytiri, with a babe wrapped around her front. I stood in shock, greeting her. Little Lo’ak still with arms wrapped around my torso hung when I stood.

“Sister, I see you,” formally greeting her, hand to my head and gently bowing. She did the same.

“Lo’ak, let go,” Jake pried the little boy off as he giggled. I noticed in the corner of my eye, Neteyam was picking up the baskets, gently scooping the fallen contents, returning them into it's respective basket even though he didn't have to. 

“Ma Jake told me that there was a young girl living all alone out here,” Neytiri spoke, my eyes shifted to Jake again staring him down as he still held the same apologetic expression, he soon joined his son picking up the baskets, cleaning up my canopy. “I had to come to see for myself. If you were who he said you were. Syulang, I see you. And I want to thank you properly. All those years ago, I heard of a child with a broken leg, dragging my father from our fallen Hometree. Throughout the chaos, no one had asked your name. They only talked about a girl from our Omatikaya Clan. Young, brave, fearless, who sacrificed her own leg for a proper burial for my father, Eytukan. My dear, I thank you. Eywa thanks you. I see you. Come back to the clan.” Neytiri wrapped her arms around my shoulders, bringing me into a hug. I shook my head no. 

“No, I will not. If Toruk Makto told you everything, you would know the reason why,” I told her. Jake’s ear twitched at his title.

“I know, I have heard. I cannot ask you to forgive, but I plead with you to come home. Your mother, your father would want you to be with your clan,” Neytiri begged. I wanted to cry at the mention of my parents. “You don't have to be an orphan, we can take care of you,” Neytiri proclaimed, “Our family have talked, we want to take you in.” She looked at her husband, who gave a soft smile. “You can stay with us in our nest,” she gently hummed. A part of me does. I miss having a family, I miss my mother’s touch, I miss my father’s reassurance. My heart pounded hard, I sighed trying to take it all in.

Pulling away from Neytiri, I though about it. I looked at the two boys, at Jake Sully. My feelings about him have always been mixed, but yet he looked at me with sad and understanding eyes. 

“Okay,” I quietly mumbled. Their ears perked, Neteyam, Jake and Lo’ak’s eyes lighting up. 

“We’ll pick you up tonight, pack your belongings,” Neytiri offered, her hands rubbing my arms in a comforting manner. The boys had finished cleaning up and were standing together.

“Before you go, take some things,” I left my canopy, sliding down the long thick rope. Strolling past my thanator, I opened up the storage hole, pulling all the fresh food from inside. The preservatives remained, just in case. The two adults had climbed down from my canopy, finding me halfway in a hole. Their footsteps alerted me. 

“These are from my morning hunt, and some fruit preserves for the children,” I handed them small closed packaged leaf containers, fashioned into a jar, “These last for a long time.” My ears perked, Neytiri thanked me with a smile. Jake picked up all the wrapped meat, thanking me too. “There are more in this hole, enough to feed a large family, but they are mostly preserved.”

Not long after, Toruk Makto, his wife and children took off back home. Their ikrans screeched in the distance. I began packing most of my belongings, retrieving my bow and arrows. Covering the food storage hole as well. I wove a large basket for Lo’a’s cubs just in case. I decided to keep my canopy up in the tree in case I would return. Finally rolling up my mat, I lay to wait for Jake and Neytiri. Eclipse is coming soon. I looked up at the darkening sky, watching the stars glimmer when I noticed a constellation of new stars. Sitting up properly to take a better look, I realise what it was.

*

How many years ago was it now? A new star descending from the sky. It scarred the land as aliens destroyed the land. The burnt and greying land, a reminder of the destruction that the sky people brought. Not long after, they arrived at our doorstep. Pink flesh, small and carrying weapons, designed to slaughter. Our Olo’eyktan and Tsashik stood and greeted the sky people with contempt, hesitation. Fear. They came in false bodies, wanting to teach the people English, to learn about our culture, everything. To assimilate. There were those who rejected them, and those who welcomed them. But they broke our trust, destroyed everything we held dear. Demons.

*

Sky demons. They have returned. I ignored my mind at that moment, I grabbed my two sling packs and archery equipment, dropped from my canopy to the ground in a rush. Gathering the cubs into the basket and climbing onto Lo’a’s back. Connecting my queue, I told her to run. Run as fast as you can. She sped away as fast as she could whilst holding our weight. The cubs whined in fear as the scorching heat reached us, though we were far away, we could see the flames emitted from the foreign metal creature. The great winds it produced as it landed, burning everything in it's radius, red and orange disintegrating Eywa’s creations. The anger I felt, the agony I felt. I roared out in anguish, the only thing I could do was run. The call of ikrans above me snapped me out of my furiosity. Voices yelling out my name.

“SYULANG!!!” 

“Keep going!” I urged Lo’a, “To the Hallelujah mountains!” Lo’a turned off to the right, running as fast as she could, jumping over fallen logs, not stopping for a moment. We kept going even though the heat retreated.

“SYULANG!!!” the voices screamed out. I looked up, as an Ikran flew over me. I waved up at the rider, Neytiri, who was watching in stunned awe. She lands not too far away and hops down from her ikran rushing to me, Lo’a growls at her as I disconnect tsaheylu, I carry the basket of cubs with me as Lo’a is on my tail.

Neytiri, grabs the basket from me looking down into it. Lo’a produces a low yowl.

“It’s okay Lo’a, we’re taking them somewhere safe,” I kissed the top of her head, she nudged me. The other ikran also arrives behind us, Jake rushing over, checking me over.

“Ma jake, take her things. We’re taking you up to High Camp, we must hurry,” Jake, pulls my bags from me pulling them over his shoulder.

“Hold on,” I turn to Lo’a giving her a hug, resting my forehead on the top of her head, “I’ll look for you. Keep going to the floating mountains.”

“Come, Syulang,” Neytiri pulls me toward her ikran. She climbs up first, pulling me up to sit behind her. “Hold on tight.” I wrapped my arms around Neytiri’s waist, her Ikran ascended quickly, almost giving me whiplash. 

We flew for a while, into the fog. Toruk Makto flying beside us. It was strangely calm here. Quiet. I haven't been in the sky in a long time. It felt freeing, I looked at my false leg, it was a part of me that I couldn't simply let go. It's what keeps me living. If I didn't have it, I wouldn't move freely. I’ll forgive Jake Sully. I'll forgive my Toruk Makto. I understand now. For seven years I harboured deep resentment for the man, every time I saw him I would scowl, eyebrows furrowing in indignation. I think It's time to let go. For the first time, I smiled at him with tears. I forgive you. And he smiled back.

Arriving in the High Camp, we were greeted by the surviving Omatikaya clan. Some gasped when they realised who was with Toruk Makto and his wife. Pawk pushed through the crowd as Neytiri slid off her Ikran. Holding her arms out for me to slide into. 

“Syulang!” Pawk ran to embrace me. The clan collectively gasped at the realisation. Pawk looked me over from head to toe, before he cupped his hands around my face, tears falling from his face. “You're all grown up. You look like your mother.”

Neytiri tugged at my hand and Pawk let me go with Neytiri. She held my hand pulling us through the crowd, the members parting to make a path. They stared in stunned silence. Some looked at me as if they just remembered their missing clan member, the others looking at my legs.

Neytiri brought me to her mother’s tent. Stopping at the entrance as Mo’at pushed open the opening flap. Coming face to face with her daughter. Her eyes widened as they fell on me. 

“Come, come in,” Mo’at rushed us in, closing the flap. As we knelt down in front of Mo’at, she pulled me into a hug. “My dear little one. I see you.”

We talked for a long time, in that conversation she asked me why I left the clan, why I couldn't have come to just talk to my Tsahik. I told her everything, my trauma, how I resented Toruk Makto, and how I had come to forgive him. Some tears were spilt and some breaks were in order. After it all, I was exhausted. Before I left to get some rest, Mo’at retrieved something for me. “I believe this belongs to you,” Mo’at said, unwrapping a cloth. In her hands were three necklaces, and I broke down in tears one final time. My mother’s, father’s and even Rumut’s necklaces. I cried until exhaustion overtook me, I fell asleep in Neytiri’s arms.

<–Previous Chapter | Next Chapter –>

[albentelisa]

Hi! So, was there any headcannon or theory you had of Merlin in Trollhunters while writing Mirrored Conviction's? Because he could easily be seen as the villain given how it looked like he manipulated Jim when he was trying to make him into a half troll if Wizards hadn't shown why he did that.

Hi, sorry for the delay with the response - I've been rather busy lately. So, without further ado let's proceed to the question.

Honestly, I've never viewed Merlin as a villain. Yes, he totally sucks as a person, and even the fact that he acknowledged Douxie in Wizards changes nothing. On the other hand, I find it interesting that a deeply flawed character like Merlin is one on the good side (and has always been).

And now to some headcanons (which I also use while writing my fics):

Merlin is commonly disliked in the magic community because he's arrogant and mostly acts according to what he considers the most beneficial to his goal (which is humanity's survival). Obviously, that led to countless situations where he outright abandoned his allies when there was an option to save them while jeopardizing the plan. The situation with Jim in Wizards proves it good enough and I feel that one wasn't the first or only time Merlin did that. And obviously, that wouldn't give him much love from everyone else (and Zoe hates him for a reason too).

Merlin led both Arthur and Morgana to their downfall or at least, partially responsible for that. Why do I think so? Let's start with Arthur. I believe that Merlin to Arthur was the same kind of figure Blinky was to Jim - a mentor, an older friend, and kind of a father. However, unlike Blinky who can always find the right words for Jim in his darkest and lowest moments, Merlin either didn't know what to do or outright ignored the problem (somehow, I more lean towards the latter). It seems like after Gwen's death, Morgana was the only one trying to reach her brother. If Merlin had joined her, everything might have ended differently.

As for Morgana, instead of leading her and helping to find control over her shadow magic, Merlin tried to correct her magic, most likely putting her within some strict regulations. He obviously finds shadow magic vile and corruptive, refusing to see that it might be not different from a knife - a tool that could be used both for good and evil. Obviously, Morgana lost all the respect for her master she had most likely possessed initially as Merlin had never listened to her or her opinion.

Merlin is also incredibly stubborn and frigid. He lacks adaptability and fails to either have some backup plans or adjust his plans on the spot. That one is his clear weakness.

And another of his problems is that he's a genius and has convinced himself that he knows better than everyone else. It led to the mindset that only his plans were right and everyone else just told him some unhinged and dumb stuff that would never work (which could be as far from the real state of things as possible). Merlin also genuinely believes that if he cannot do something, no one will be able to do a thing and that if something didn't work for him, it wouldn't work for someone else.

So? Merlin may be intelligent, but he isn't wise. He's too short-sighted to see the bigger picture and too stuck to his own beliefs to see alternatives.

There's some curious detail about Nari. It makes some sense that she came to Merlin after abandoning the Arcane Order because despite all his flaws he was probably the best when it came to giving her shelter. However, Nari also seemingly treats Merlin nicely, despite being his enemy for a long time before coming to him. It may have something to do with Nari's personality, but I also have a headcanon that Nari knew Merlin before he grew to become the unpleasant person he is now. Nari is hopeful, so, perhaps, she still believed he could change his ways.

And now, there's some heavy speculation part. The scene when Merlin manipulated Jim made me think that Merlin was projecting his own experiences there. He seems to be the kind of person who absolutely loathes their younger self. Most likely, Jim was unlucky enough to remind Merlin of his younger days.

I feel that Merlin lost some dear people during his young years, most likely because of his own reckless actions. He probably thought that if he took some precautions it might end differently. That is why he chose to force Jim to undergo the transformation. In Merlin's eyes that might even count as some kind of redemption for his youth's mistakes. He sees nothing wrong with that and believes it is a good thing and that Jim is simply too young and naive to understand and will come to appreciate it later. And obviously, Merlin believes that ruining Jim's everyday life wasn't a big deal. To his mind, it was an adequate sacrifice. Well, Merlin simply forgets that Jim is not him or even his younger self.

I had a discussion with a friend once, who claimed that younger Merlin was like Douxie, but personally, I feel that Douxie reminds Merlin of the close person he had lost in the past (best friend, perhaps?). That would explain why Merlin ordered Douxie to stay away from everything until he woke up - so that Douxie didn't end in some kind of trouble. I feel that Merlin was scared to lose Douxie, because it would be a second time for him.