#I'm grateful to everyone who's been keeping up with me over the year it's taken to write this.

[inkburnt]

Ode to Innocence

Chapter 16: Epilogue

Fandom: Devil May Cry Mature // Gen // Complete // Chapters: 16/16 // Words: 164,864 Characters: V, Griffon, Shadow, Nightmare, Malphas, original characters Warning(s): Graphic depictions of violence Additional tags: V is not part of Vergil, V’s name is Vitale, witch V, origin story, childhood, coming of age, canon-typical violence, character death, loss of parent(s), sorcery, witchcraft, witches’ coven, implied/referenced child abuse, implied/referenced emotional manipulation, sexual harassment, attempted sexual assault, suicidal thoughts, suicide attempt, found family AU info  //  Series on AO3

Masterlist

[thetriumphantpanda]

two is better than one | joel & tommy miller

Summary | Frustrated that whatever you're trying to do still isn't working, you decide to give it one more try with Joel before cooling off for a while. Tommy is back to keep an eye on the both of you this time, but what happens when he starts to feel a little left out, watching his brother bring his girl over the edge more times than he cares to count?

Warnings | I swear I always start this the same way so here we go: Tommy getting cucked but also getting involved this time 👀, Joel being a fucking menace, dirty talk, oral sex (F&M receiving), face sitting, breeding kink, unprotected PiV sex, talk of infertility, no use of Y/N

Word Count | 3.8k

Authors Note | Whew. When I tell you this little threesome has been rotting my brain, I'm not lying. This is the only thing I can focus on, hence them being updated so fast! I just wanted to say a huge thank you to you all for the continued love you're giving this series - it honestly blows my mind every time that it's something you guys enjoy, that my writing reaches so many people and that they lap that shit up. I'm so grateful to everyone who has taken the time to comment, send me asks, reblogs and those who have slid into my DMs with all the love. I see you, I hear you, and I love you all - thank you. I hope you enjoy this next part just as much as the rest - it's a doozy. You know the drill, if you did like it, please consider reblogging, commenting or sending the love to my ask box, it's what keeps me going. And if you'd like to leave me a tip (of course no pressure!), then here's my Ko-Fi.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Another month and another fucking negative pregnancy test. You knew it was irrational, but you were starting to think that maybe you were also part of the problem now. You’d been doing everything right, following all the advice in the books you’d bought almost a year ago when Tommy and you had first started trying for a baby. You’d been exercising, eating as healthily as possible, tried to keep yourself a stress-free as possible. You’d been keeping a close eye on your cycle and still, nothing to show for it. 

When you clambered down the stairs, test in hand and flung it in Tommy’s direction, he already knew. He could see the heavy set of your shoulders, the quiet sniffling of you trying to hide the fact you were crying. Tommy had settled you on the couch, covered you in a blanket and made you some tea. Then he’d made your favourite meal for dinner, even driven to the store and picked up Diet Coke, emptied a can into a glass filled with ice and lime juice like you loved, but none of it really helped to soothe how upset you were. 

The TV was on low, and he had your head in his lap, slowly stroking the strands of your hair as you tried to calm yourself down. Remind yourself that even the most fertile of couples needed to try for months sometimes before they had their first baby. It was stupid to think you’d be any different. 

“You’re thinkin’ way too loud, sugar.” Tommy muses, letting his hand run up and down your arm instead. 

“Sorry,” You mumble, “Just thought it would be easier.” 

“I know,” He coos, “We can take a break for a while, if you want.” 

You turn so you’re led on your back, looking right up at him, “I just want a baby.” You feel a tear slip down your cheek to pool near your ear. 

Tommy uses his thumb to brush away the tears that have started to fall, bobbing his leg up and down gently to try and soothe you, “It’s still fresh,” He speaks softly, “Let’s give it a couple of days and see what you want to do, okay?” 

You nod in agreement, feeling the beginnings of a headache pooling behind your eyes. You push yourself up into a sitting position and turn around to press a soft kiss to his lips, “I’m gonna go to bed,” You announce, “Headache.” 

He lets you go, it’s still early and you know there’s the game highlights he wanted to watch. In bed, you can do nothing but toss and turn for a few hours. Every time you’d try to close your eyes, all you could see was vision of you and Joel, in all the different positions he’d put you in so far, and all for what? When the bedside clock hit 10:30, you head out to use the bathroom. As you near the door at the top of the stairs you can hear Tommy talking to someone, through the phone because his is the only voice you can hear. 

“I know, brother, she’s just really beat up about it,” You hear him say, “I don’t know how to make it better.” 

You lean against the closed bathroom door, wondering if perhaps you should leave Tommy to talk to Joel. There’s a pause where you can hear Tommy humming along to whatever Joel is saying on the other end of the phone. 

“I dunno man,” Tommy sighs, “You managed to knock Sarah’s mom up on a one-night stand, guess I thought it would be easier for you.” 

There’s another pause, then he’s speaking again. 

“No Joel, all of her tests came back perfect,” Another sigh, “I was always the problem.”

You’re about to push down the handle to go to the bathroom when Tommy speaks again, “I don’t know, maybe we should just cool it for a while, we’re all gonna work ourselves up otherwise.” 

You decide you don’t really want to hear the rest of the conversation. You sit on the toilet and let your face drop to your hands in frustration. Why couldn’t you just be normal? Why couldn’t you have been a nice, normal couple, having a baby in the most natural way possible? Why did this have to come along and fucking complicate everything? And why did Joel have to be so fucking good to you every time? 

You wash your hands under the tap, water as scalding as it could go, just in order to feel something that wasn’t frustration before you head to bed. There’s no longer the sound of voices as you pad back across the hall and get back into bed, shutting off the lights and curling onto one side, knees as close to your chest as you can manage to get them. It’s not long before you can hear Tommy shuffling around upstairs. He pushes open the bedroom door quietly, obviously thinking you’re already asleep. You can hear him undressing before he's slipping onto his side of the bed, pulling your body close to his under the covers as he spoons you. 

You let your own arm cover his over your waist as you lean back into the comfort of his chest, letting his breath fan across the skin of your shoulder as he presses a kiss to your skin. 

“I wanna try again,” You speak softly into the dark, feeling Tommy’s arm’s squeeze you tighter, “Once more and then we cool it for a while.” 

“You sure?” He asks into your ear, lips pressing to the sensitive skin behind your ear. 

“I’m sure.” You respond, turning around in his arms to capture his lips in yours. 

When the time comes to try again, it’s you who greets Joel at the door when he knocks. Tommy already upstairs and situated in the chair he had taken the first time you’d done this as a three. Joel leans down, lips just millimeters from your own, but instead of kissing your mouth, he places a soft kiss to your cheek instead. 

“Hello, darlin’.” 

You step up onto your tiptoes to press your own kiss to his face, just shy of the corner of his mouth – the kisses from last time still a secret between the two of you. 

“Evening handsome,” You smile, pulling away from him to close the door as he steps inside, “You ready?” 

“To give you what you want?” He smirks, “Always, pretty girl.” 

You feel that telltale heat flush across your cheeks as Joel pulls you into his side, hand dipping down to squeeze your ass over the fabric of the robe you’d thrown on moments ago. God, why did he have to be so fucking intoxicating around you?

You take hold of his hand in yours, leading him up the stairs behind you. Tommy was reading a book as you entered the room, folding the corner of the page before setting it down on the nightstand closest to the chair. You can’t help but snigger as you watch him and Joel give each other the typical male greeting of a curt nod of the head. 

You drag Joel by the arm to the foot of the bed, pushing his shoulders down so he sits on the edge. Then you take a step back and tug on the belt of your robe, letting it fall open and off your body to leave you completely naked in front of him. You watch his face as he trails those beautiful brown eyes over your body, letting out a low whistle of approval. 

“Beautiful as ever, darlin’,” He compliments, reaching out a hand for you to take, “But you’re worked up, ain’t ya? And not in the good way.” 

Your eyes flit to Tommy in the corner of the room, who has that smug ‘I told you so’ look on his face. You’d been itching for Tommy to arrange this since that ovulation test said you were in the zone, but Joel had been working away for the past two days, and now you were worried that if you didn’t hurry the fuck up, you’d miss your chance. 

Joel reaches out and puts his hands on the back of your thighs, pulling you into him, he’s looking up at you, pressing hot kisses to the skin of your tummy, “Gotta relax babygirl,” He moans, “I’m tryin’ my damned hardest, but you just gotta let nature take its course.” 

“Just frustrating.” You mumble. 

“I know baby, I know,” He’s got his hands palming your tits now, “Long as I need to, I’ll keep fillin’ you up, y’hear me?” 

Your breath catches in your throat and all you can do is nod as he moves himself back on the bed. 

Joel leans back on the bed, his head just shy of the pillows, “Sit on my face, pretty girl.” 

You’re almost embarrassed at how quickly you scramble yourself onto the bed, moving up to straddle his hips – even Tommy is chuckling from his chair. 

“Can’t get enough of Joel’s mouth on your pussy, can you, sugar?” He speaks in a low voice. 

Joel has his hands on your ass, guiding your naked body to hover over his face before his hands are slipping up to your hips to pull your cunt to his mouth. He wastes no time in getting straight to business, wide tongue licking stripes from your entrance, where he laps up your slick like a cat would cream, to those deliciously tight flicks of the tip of his tongue to your clit. You can hear him groaning into your pussy, your hand coming down to anchor itself into his hair to hold him still as you start grinding against his face. 

You can hear the obscene slurps that he’s making underneath you, it’s half the reason you think it takes you no time at all to reach the edge, because he fucking enjoys this just as much as you do, he loves tasting you, loves making you feel good and you can feel that, can feel it on his mouth. 

As you throw your head back as Joel’s tongue swipes perfectly across your clit, you catch Tommy in the corner of the room. He’s palming himself through his jeans as he watches you, your body writhing as his brother’s mouth brings you closer and closer to the edge. It wouldn’t hurt, would it? You think, if you asked if he wanted you to help him out. 

“You feeling left out baby?” You coo, reaching your hand out for Tommy to take, “Joel gets my pussy tonight,” You punctuate with a grind of your pussy down onto his mouth, “But I can help you, if you want.” 

He’s standing at the edge of the bed in minutes, his hand pressing into the back of your neck, not unlike how he tries to work the knots from there when you watch TV together. It’s soft and it’s loving and a complete juxtaposition to the vice grip that Joel’s fingers currently have on your hips. 

Your lips are impossibly close to Tommy’s, you could easily lean forward and kiss him, instead, you have a demand, “Take off your pants.” 

Tommy’s hands start to undo the belt holding his jeans up, so you turn your attention back to Joel between your thighs. He is expertly holding you right on the edge, you’re mewling and whining as he tongue works you to the edge, and then pulls away, moving down to gather more of your slick on his tongue. 

You drop your head and catch his eyes looking up at you, “You gonna tease me all night, Miller?” You ask, voice cracking as he makes a point to suckle on your clit, making you cry out, “Fuck, make me come, please Joel.” 

All of a sudden, Tommy’s hand is on your face, pulling your mouth to his own in a searing kiss as he guides your hand to his cock. You’re moaning, a combination of the fact that any second, Joel’s mouth is going to have you screaming and the fact that it’s Tommy kissing you, his cock you’re currently pumping through your fist. It’s delicious and it’s filthy and it should feel all shades of wrong, but it fucking doesn’t. 

You feel it in your legs first, the way they begin to shake and pulse and your thighs clamp around Joel’s face. Then you feel it in your abdomen, like a knot unfurling all at once as pleasure bursts over every inch of your skin. Your mouth detaching from Tommy’s, so you can cry out his brother’s name as you feel yourself almost collapse onto him. 

��Such a good girl,” Tommy breathes into your ear, your hand still firmly held around his cock, “So good when you come for us like that.” 

You feel Joel’s hands tapping at the cheeks of your ass, telling you to lift yourself off his face which you do, dragging yourself down enough so that you’re sat across his chest, not caring that your leaking pussy is dragging slick all over him. His face is covered, covered in you. He’s grinning up at you like the devil, tongue circling his mouth to clean your taste from wherever he can reach. 

“I gotta be inside you, pretty girl.” You can hear his gruff voice speak. 

Tommy immediately moves back from you so you can settle yourself down on the bed. You start on your back, but Joel moves you to lie on your side. He’s still fully clothed behind you, but when he presses himself up against you, you can feel his thick cock straining in his jeans. 

“Take your clothes off.” Is all you can manage to whine as Tommy settles on his knees on the space in front of you, taking the back of your head in the palm of his hand to bring your mouth to his cock. 

Joel shuffles away from you and you feel the mattress lighten as he gets off the bed to shed his clothes. You almost wish you could watch, there’s something about the way Joel reveals his body to you that drives you wild. The way he drags his shirt off to reveal his broad frame, chest peppered with hair, or the way his cock bounces when he finally pulls off his underwear. But right now, you’re focused on making your man feel good. 

You’re making sure that you’re doing it exactly as Tommy likes, almost telling him through the ministrations of your mouth how grateful you are for him, for this being his idea, for loving you enough and trusting you enough to let someone else give you what he cannot. You’re giving all the attention of your tongue to the head of Tommy’s weeping cock, tasting the salt and musk of his pre-cum, using one had to pump the base of his cock. 

You can feel Joel settle back behind you, pressing his entire body against your own, hard cock slipping through the slick folds of your cunt as he settles himself in the right position, then, he’s taking hold of your leg, hand in the crux of your knee to pull it up, baring his prize. He slowly inches his cock inside your tight heat and suddenly it’s all a little overwhelming. 

You’re giving the love of your life the kind of head you’ve only ever seen in porn, Tommy taking most of the control to thrust in and out of your mouth. You’re pretty sure the tears falling from your eyes are a mixture of his length hitting the back of your throat and the overwhelming emotion, love, and admiration you feel for both the men who are crowding your body, owning it, taking what they both want, one of them hopefully leaving you with what you want. 

You pull your face away from Tommy’s cock for a moment, still giving his length the attention it needs, but you let yourself lean into Joel behind you, his cock still moving languidly inside you. He’s got one of his arms snaked under your neck, your head leant against his arm like a pillow, his other hand holding your leg up so that every time his cock brushes inside you, it’s hitting that damn spot that makes you want to cry. 

“Look at you, lucky girl,” Joel growls into your ear as his lifts your leg up higher, pushing it almost to lie flat aagainst your side, “One cock in that pretty little pussy, another in your mouth,” You let a moan, muffled by the fact that Tommy is currently doing a slap-up job of fucking your throat, “He’s a lucky man,” Joel speaks again, “Bet that mouth feels divine.” 

“You ask nicely, she might oblige you, brother.” 

You feel him puff air through his nose in a chuckle, “I’m quite happy right where I am,” He speaks, pumping his cock so deep inside you that you actually think you can see stars, “You’re a lucky son-of-a-bitch gettin’ this for the rest of your life.” 

“She’s special, I’ll give you that.” 

It’s like you have to prove him right now. You can feel the walls of your pussy clenching around Joel as he picks up his pace. You can feel his balls slapping into your skin with every thrust, the power behind them causing your mouth to take Tommy cock deeper into your mouth every time. 

“Sugar, I ain’t gonna last much longer.” You hear him speak from above you. 

You pull off him, again letting your hand work him as you look up at his through your lashes, “You want me to swallow for you, baby?” You asked, wondering what you must look like when he looks down at you, fucked out from his brother, begging for him to come down your throat. 

“There’s an offer I cannot refuse,” Tommy grins, letting your mouth take him back inside the warmth, “Such a good girl.” 

He only lasts a few more seconds, cum hitting your tongue and seeping down your throat. You swallow down every drop, grinning up at Tommy. He leans down and plants a kiss to your lips, and now your focus is on Joel, thick and solid, pumping his cock in and out of you. 

“You focus on Joel now, sugar,” He croons, “I’m gonna sit back and watch you have fun.” 

As soon as Tommy has moved away from you, Joel is pulling his cock from your pussy, turning you onto your back before he’s crowding his frame over you, settling between your thighs. You’re pliant and you move easily when he hooks your legs over his shoulders, folding you back as he slips his cock back inside you. 

You’re gripping his arms as he fucks into you in earnest now, tip of his cock bruising your cervix with every thrust, you know he’ll have half-moon shaped marks on his arms come the morning, they’ll match the bruises he always leaves on your hips, the shape of his fingertips indented into your skin. 

“God fuckin’ damnit,” Joel groan, head falling to the column of your throat to graze teeth and lips over your delicate skin, “Gonna come so deep in this fuckin’ pussy it won’t have a choice but to take, you hear me, pretty girl?” 

“Fuck!” You exclaim, as he shifts just enough to change the angle that his cock is spearing into you, “Joel please.” 

“Please what?” He teases, “What do you want, babygirl?” 

“Inside,” You breath out, “Want you inside.” 

“Yeah, want me to make you a mama?” You can feel tears pooling in your eyes, “No need to cry, pretty girl,” He leans down, folding you in half even more, almost uncomfortable, to kiss away the tears, “Gonna give you what you need.” 

He thankfully moves back a little, stopping your bones from screaming at you for being folded so inhumanely, then his thumb is on your clit, “Only gonna make you a mama if you come with me,” Joel smirks, “Deal?” 

“Oh god – fuck – whatever you want,” You cry, “Please, give me what I want.” 

His thumb is relentless on your already sensitive clit, those tight circles have you clenching around him and when you look into his eyes you know he’s just as close as you are, “That’s it baby, you keep those big, beautiful eyes on me,” Joel’s hips are snapping into your with a force you didn’t know you could feel, it’s entirely too much and entirely too little all at the same time, “Can feel that tight little pussy suckin’ me in,” You cry out as his thumb falters and drags across your clit in a way that has that not threatening to unfurl yet again, “It’s alright baby, if you come, I’ll follow, yeah?” 

That’s exactly what happens. His thumb traces wet circles over your clit and you do exactly as he says. You keep your eyes wide open, staring directly into his own, as your mouth falls open with a screech as your vision clouds. Whatever happens, Joel is right behind you, his cock pounds into at most, twice more, before he’s growling your name through his teeth, cum painting every inch of your pussy. He drops your legs from his shoulders, and falls forward, letting his head rest in the crook of your neck as you both fight to catch your breath.

You wrap your arms around him but it’s all too soon before he’s pulling himself out of you, a kiss to your cheek as he does so. You’re spent and you’re aching and if you’re honest, a little overwhelmed. Joel dresses quickly, and you wish you could ask him to stay, wish he didn’t feel the need to run away, but you know it’s for the best. Tommy tells you he’ll see him out and come to bed, so you roll over and pull yourself under the sheets, trying to warm yourself from the cool air that’s spattering across the sweat of your skin. 

Tommy is back within minutes having seen Joel off. He shed his clothes and moves right up behind you, gathering you into his arms. He takes some time to press kisses into your neck and across your shoulders and for some reason, it sets your belly on fire. How have you been fucked so thoroughly by another man, this man’s own brother, and now you’re aching for this man behind you. 

“I love you so much, Tommy,” You whisper into the dark, clutching at his arms wrapped around you, “So fucking much.” 

“I love you too baby,” He whispers into your ear, stilling your hips as they grind back into him, “Enough of that, I’ll give you what you want tomorrow.” 

[mirai-e-jump]

Animage August 2024 Issue Bakuage Sentai Boonboomger ft. Main Cast & Suit Actor Interviews (translations below)

Publication: July 10, 2024 (between episodes 19-20)

Iuchi Haruhi x Hayama Yuki x Suzuki Miu Saito Ryu x Soma Satoru x Miyazawa Yu

-The newest purple warrior is a wonderful big brother-

"Since Miyazawa-san joined, has there been any changes in the atmosphere on set?"

Hayama: So far, Satoru-kun's been the one pulling us along as the oldest, but now he's here and helping us from a different approach, and I feel as though we've gained an older brother that we can rely on. I feel that the atmosphere on set has become much more tense.

Suzuki: When the five of us are together, we become noisy like a bunch of students, as we're always excited all the time (laughs). In a good way, for the times when Zawa-kun says, "I'm gonna do this here," he snaps into it an instant. When we're having fun, he does his best to enjoy the same atmosphere as us, and it makes me think, "We've got a wonderful big brother."

Saito: I feel that the atmosphere has become more tense, but I also feel that BoonViolet is really cool and strong, and that he's caused everyone's competitive spirit of "I can't lose" to start emerging alittle. Of course, we get along well.

Iuchi: Up until now, I used to watch the scenes of the other four and think, "That was good just now, I wanna steal it," but now that Yu-kun's here, I feel like I have more opportunities to learn. Sakito himself is completely different from the characters that have appeared in Boonboomger so far, and since Yu-kun's also had work in stage plays, things like his vocalization, the way he stands, and the way he moves are completely different from anything I could've imagined. I'm always learning whenever we're together

Suzuki: Zawa-kun, what's with the face? (laughs).

Miyazawa: I'm just happy.

Iuchi: It's because everyone's praising him.

Suzuki: What do you want to do about this?

Miyazawa: Hmmm, wanna go out for yakiniku after this?

All 5: Yeah!

"(laughs). How about Soma-san? He was the oldest until Miyazawa-san joined."

Soma: Only in appearance though, right? (laughs). I'd really rather not play the oldest character.

Suzuki: All you ever say is, "I don't want to be the oldest."

Soma: That's right. I don't really like being called the oldest. That's why I was grateful that he immediately took my place.

Miyazawa: I don't think I've taken your place. Please keep on being the oldest (laughs).

Hayama: Satoru-kun's also been the one leading us so far.

Soma: You think so?

Suzuki: It's more like Satorun looks out for everyone.

Iuchi: Right. He's something of a motherly figure.

Suzuki: I feel that Satorun is like a motherly big brother, while Zawa-kun's a big brother with some off vibes.

Miyazawa: Praising me will get you higher grade yakiniku.

Soma: Will each of us get two servings?

Miyazawa: Hang on, I'm the one footing the bill (laughs).

Soma: Let's go for four! (laughs).

"Did Miyazawa-san adjust to the team right away?"

Miyazawa: Joining a finished team itself was fine, as it's something that usually happens on the set of a regular drama. However, my only concern was that since we'd be working together for about a year, what if one of the five members had a personality that I don't get along with?

All: (laughs).

Miyazawa: But, on the day of my costume fitting, Ryu and Miu-chan came running over to me and asked, "What's BoonViolet like?"

Suzuki: Yeah, it was the first time we met the one playing BoonViolet.

Miyazawa: When I first greeted the five of them, I thought, "These guys are truly wonderful people!," and I still have that impression now. I can feel that everyone's having a good time, and I'm also enjoying the energy that I receive from them.

-The unanimously agreed upon person who has no gap between themself and their role is…?-

"Out of the six of you, who would you say has the biggest gap between them and the role they play?"

Miyazawa: Someone who's as far away from their role as possible you mean.

Suzuki: What should we do?

Hayama: Let's all point them out.

All: Ready, and, go!

(Iuchi-san points at Hayama-san, Suzuki-san points at Soma-san, and the other four point at Iuchi-san)

All: (burst out laughing).

Saito: Haruhi.

Soma: It's Haruhi.

Miyazawa: It can only be Haruhi.

Iuchi: Wait, what do you mean?

Hayama: You're a fool!

All: (laughs).

Iuchi: Wait, wait, hold on, who are you calling a fool? (laughs).

Hayama: Taiya himself is the leader of the other five members as BoonRed, however, the more I got to know the person named Iuchi Haruhi-kun, the more I found out that he wasn't all there.

Suzuki: Right, right.

Miyazawa: Haruhi's making an unhappy face (laughs).

Hayama: For the most recent episode, I told him, "We're going to film this now," but he had forgotten what it was about. I really feel that the gap between him and Taiya is huge (laughs).

Miyazawa: It was almost unanimously Haruhi.

Iuchi: No~……

Suzuki: Something like that happened before, didn't it?

Soma: The pepper mill incident.

Miyazawa: Yeah (laughs). I heard that for Miu-chan's birthday, everyone got her a pepper mill.

Suzuki: Yeah, I received it from everyone.

Miyazawa: When we were talking about it, I casually asked, "Haruhi, do you know what a pepper mill is?" He replied, "I know. It's a machine that squeezes out milk, right?"

Hayama: What the hell were you talking about? (laughs).

Iuchi: It's because it had "miru" in it (laughs).

Miyazawa: I said, "Did you give Miu-chan a pepper mill without knowing what it was?" He replied, "No?" I then asked, "Do you know what oatmeal is?" He said something like, "A fully automatic milk dispenser."

All: (laughs).

Hayama: Just like that, huh? (laughs). That's not it!

Iuchi: I thought "oat" meant "automatic," but I would've never guessed it was a food. (*the loanword for auto and oat are the same)

Soma: I guess "mill (miru)" takes over as "milk (miruku)" every time, huh?

Suzuki: Sure seems like it (laughs). Well, to put it simply, he's an idiot.

Iuchi: No!

Miyazawa: He himself didn't want to talk about this story publicly, but I will.

Hayama: He's cute, isn't he?

Suzuki: So cute.

Iuchi: My secrets are being revealed one after another……I'm not an idiot! Please treat me well (laughs).

"(laughs). Suzuki-san was pointing at Soma-san, while Iuchi-san was pointing at Hayama-san."

Suzuki: I'll be honest, I've been watching Haruhi-kun for a long time, so I've grown accustomed to seeing him like that (laughs). Of course, there's a gap between him and Taiya, but it's become established that it's apart of him. Genba often doesn't put everything he's thinking into words, but Satorun's the opposite and talks alot!

Soma: That's for sure (laughs).

Suzuki: Even when everyone else wants to take a short nap during film breaks, Satorun seems to have the type of body that prevents him from sleeping, so he'll wake us up by starting "Soma Satoru Radio."

Miyazawa: We're like, "It's begun today as well."

Hayama: He'll do it at random.

Miyazawa: Satoru-kun will sometimes talk to us in a strange way, right? He's like, "Where'd you put the engine now?"

Suzuki: That! I know what you're talking about!

Iuchi: That's true. I was also torn between choosing Satoru-kun, but I thought it had to be Yuki-kun.

Suzuki: (Looking at Hayama) Hey, don't look so happy!

Saito: He's got a face that says, "I love it."

Iuchi: Just like what everyone said about me, the more I talked to him, the more I saw different sides of him. I got to know Yuki-kun through filming, and I realized that he's far from the cool Chasshiro. However, Chasshiro himself is a character with a pretty big gap, so I think he fits the role very well.

Miyazawa: I think I know what you mean about Yuki's gap.

Hayama: It doesn't upset me. (In a bold tone) Thanks.

Suzuki: We don't mean it as praise. It's just a question of if there is or isn't a gap (laughs).

Iuchi: Be careful not to give Yuki too much praise (laughs).

"On the other hand, who would you say is the one with the smallest gap?"

Suzuki: What do we do? Have everyone point again?

Iuchi: I guess so.

Soma: Ready, and, go!

(All of them point at Saito-san)

"Amazing, it was unanimous (laughs)"

Iuchi: He also pointed at himself.

Saito: When I first received the proposal and saw Jou's setting, I thought, "It's me."

All: (laughs).

Saito: It was so much like me that I thought, "Is it really a role?," even my manager asked me, "Was it written for you?" (laughs). I've also admired heroes since I was little, and the fact that he's abit clumsy is a good fit for me. I have a strong sense of responsibility, like how I was always class president during my school years.

Miyazawa: You were?!

Hayama: And the class didn't fall apart?

Saito: It was properly kept together! (laughs).

Miyazawa: Did you ever say (slang) stuff like, "Wassup!" with everyone?

Saito: I've done that, and was told off for it (laughs). Also, for some reason, I was popular with the mothers in my community, and at my high school graduation, I took lots of pictures with the mothers of my classmates.

Suzuki: You did?!

Soma: Not with your classmates?

Saito: I thought I'd be asked by my classmates, but I was approached by mothers, ones who I didn't know, and they'd asked me, "Can I bother you for a picture?" The fact that I was popular among those in the parent age group feels abit similar to Jou.

Suzuki: Jou's hot blooded and loud, while Ryu-kun's the same way, he can't even whisper.

Saito: That's true.

Suzuki: It's not that his natural voice is loud or anything, it's just that his voice is always loud. Even when he shouldn't be speaking so loudly, his voice is so clear that I wonder if he's talking to someone 10 meters away (laughs).

Saito: That's why I can't keep secrets.

Iuchi: In a roundabout way, I think that's a good thing.

Miyazawa: It's kind of adorable, isn't it? Jou's friendliness is just like Ryu-kun's. He normally calls out to me with "Zawa-nii," but when he comes into my personal space he's like, "Zawa-nii, Zawa-nii."

Saito: I'm sorry (laughs).

Miyazawa: No, no! I think it's a really good thing. I don't know why, but I think it's really wonderful that he's developed this kind of personality, it's like I could forgive him regardless of if he's Jou or Saito Ryu.

Suzuki: No matter what he does, you can't hate him.

Soma: It's like, "Because it's Ryu."

Suzuki: That's it.

Iuchi: I was going to say that.

Saito: I'm so happy!

-A film overloaded with special elements-

"We'd also like to ask about the film, what was the most memorable scene from either the script or filming?"

Miyazawa: I feel that the real thrill of the Super Sentai series is when the six of us are able to accomplish something together. When I read the script, I realized that kind of scene with Sakito hasn't happened in the main story yet, so I was really looking forward to filming it.

Hayama: It wasn't my scene, but I was impressed by the fact that Mira plays an active role. Surprisingly, Mira playing an active role in battle hasn't been depicted in the main story yet.

Suzuki: Tell me about it! I'm always paired up with someone.

Hayama: I felt that it was refreshing, and as Chasshiro I thought, "I can count on her."

Suzuki: I was also very happy to feel the growth of Mira in the scenes with princess Nicola. If you've been watching since the first episode, I think you may feel alittle emotional when you see her, thinking, "That Mira is……"

Saito: I remember thinking it'd be very interesting from the moment I read the script, not only because of Mira's growth, but also because of the resurrection of the Kurumaju and our special self introductions. Especially for the self introductions, I was so excited I thought, "Wow, now this is a film!"

Soma: When I first opened the script, seeing that "HIKAKIN-san is here!" really surprised me.

Miyazawa: Yeah, you're right!

Soma: In the main story, it's often stated that, "This is the main character of this episode," but in the film, there are moments when the focus is on each character. That made me happy, everyone had their own highlight, and I think we worked very hard on those areas.

Iuchi: When I found out that HIKAKIN-san was going to perform, I became uneasy. I've been watching HIKAKIN-san's videos ever since I started watching Youtube as a kid. Because of that, there was a kind of tension that felt different from usual, but I tried my best not to let it show. On set I told myself, "I don't know this guy, so I shouldn't be nervous."

All: (laughs).

Iuchi: Nevertheless I was still conflicted about my performance, as I felt like the person I admired was right in front of my eyes. Along with the appearance of extravagant guests, the film is full of action scenes, and the amount of information on screen and the camera work is something that's unique to the film. Make sure you go to the theaters and see it! _

The Great Space Invasion Running Team Hashiriyan

They've made numerous planets their territory and have attacked people to collect the negative energy "Ghassolin" generated from human screams. The first to arrive on Earth, the newest target of the organization, are the "Sanseaters" Decotrade, Itasha, and Yaiyai Yarucar, the three on site supervisors.

In an attempt to make the Earthlings scream, the Sanseaters create monsters called "Kurumaju" out of wedding dresses, saunas, koinobori, and all other kinds of things on Earth. However, the three of them are so harmonious, that it's hard to believe that they're evil, and they're not afraid to do anything out of the ordinary, such as showing themselves off on TV shows or getting involved with the abilities of a Kurumaju. While comical villains that are hard to hate are sort of a standard in the Super Sentai series, the Sanseaters have quickly gained the passionate support of fans.

The Sanseaters will also appear in Boonboomgers film, which will be released this Summer. Not wanting to lose to Demon Thunder, the Hashinriyan Catching Captain, they challenge the Boonboomgers in order to take all the credit! The Hashiriyans and Boonboomgers, come witness the greatest battle of all time in theaters!

Ogura Toshihiro (Decotrade) x Miyazawa Yuki (Itasha)

-The Sanseaters way of naturally being out of sync-

"What were your first impressions of the Sanseaters, and what are you conscious of when playing Decotrade and Itasha?"

Ogura: I thought of the Doronbo Gang from "Yatterman" and Team Rocket from "Pokemon," and various other trios from popular anime that people may remember. In any case, I decided to just be cheerful and have fun.

Miyazawa: However, I never would've imagined that one of them was a car! (laughs).

Ogura: Yeah, there's one person who can't move so freely (laughs). Yaru-chan's got a bad mouth and will make your heart race.

Miyazawa: Yaru-chan, who'll just give it to you straight.

Ogura: He doesn't hold back, so if we're not careful, we could get hurt (laughs).

Miyazawa: (laughs). Still, thanks to Morohoshi Sumire-san's voice, he's simply adorable. When I play Itasha-chan, I try not to get knocked down, I try to survive in the story (laughs), and I'm making an effort to make her a beloved character.

Ogura: I may be conscious of being there naturally, without being bound by any form. It's like we're acting normally, but something seems to be alittle out of place.

Miyazawa: We're living at full power, at full speed.

Ogura: Yeah, we're enjoying life (laughs).

"Please tell us your impressions of each other's performances."

Ogura: Miyazawa's reaction to the performance is genius and interesting! I've never worked so hard with someone on a performance before, and I've been making suggestions and consulting with her on the spot, but her reactions are so funny. Sometimes I can't see what's going on at the set due to visibility, so when I watch the broadcast, I realize, "So this is the reaction she had!" It's really amazing, and I just feel like I need to go along with her.

Miyazawa: As for me, I also find Ogura-san's out of nowhere jokes very funny, and I find myself being like, "I'll do that too!" (laughs).

Ogura: I guess it's mutual. We may have some synergy.

"What are some of the fun parts about playing comical characters like Decotrade and Itasha?"

Ogura: That I don't have to be cool (laughs).

Miyazawa: That's right (laughs). We'll leave looking cool to the members of Boonboomger.

Ogura: Still, regardless of how people see us, we don't really intend on screwing around.

Miyazawa: Yeah, we're living seriously.

Ogura: We’re just being serious and following the script, but they’ve got alittle bit of something going on, you know? (laughs), in terms of their setting, we play an attractive role.

Miyazawa: That's right. In case you were wondering, they're good looking.

Ogura: While the Captains are fighting hard beside them, the Sanseaters are doing their best in their own way.

"What are the most memorable scenes that you've filmed so far?"

Miyazawa: I was surprised when we went to a sauna (episode 4).

Ogura: You don't go to a sauna in a costume...normally.

Miyazawa: At the time, I thought I was going to die (laughs).

Ogura: Also, I think we've been doing alot of cosplay lately. I don't know where they get their costumes from (laughs), but they seem to prepare outfits that suit the situation.

Miyazawa: Weren't the school uniforms our first cosplay? (episode 8).

Ogura: Yeah, that's right.

"At that time, they were costumes to trick all the Boonboomgers, except Taiya, and lock them in cages."

Ogura: Even though their faces are left unchanged (laughs), they think it's suitable to look like that.

Miyazawa: Surprisingly, the Boonboomgers were also fooled by the uniforms (laughs).

-Becoming beloved characters through the power of many people-

"Please tell us some of the highlights of the film."

Ogura: There's a part where the used Kurumajus appears. It made me think about all the monsters that've been created up until now. Alot of them appear, and I thought it was a gorgeous, cinematic experience right from the start.

Miyazawa: The circuit was also amazing, wasn't it? It was my first time being at one.

Ogura: Fuji Speedway, right? And, our car will also make its appearance there.

Miyazawa: Right, The Sanseater Car.

Ogura: I don't know how the completed footage is going to turn out, but we drove it hard, so I'm looking forward to seeing where it appears.

"The Sanseaters have also been seen riding the Boonboom Killer Robo in the TV series, so they're fortunate to have so many vehicles."

Ogura: That's right. We weren't even told that we were going to be riding in a Robo.

Miyazawa: The cockpit is much more luxurious too. It also has properly installed seat belts.

Ogura: Right. Normally, we don't have a fixed base, just a corner of a factory somewhere with some pots and a stove lined up (laughs). I didn't think they'd make a cockpit for us. It was incredible.

"The scene of them flying out of the blown up Boonboom Killer Robo in episode 14 also became a hot topic among fans."

Ogura: Now that I know we won't get hurt even if there's a big explosion, I think we'll be fine no matter what the situation is (laughs).

Miyazawa: We were promised that we wouldn't be leaving the show over something like that (laughs).

Ogura: The next morning, it was like nothing had ever happened (laughs). Relating to the Robo, I'll never forget the Bon Odori (episode 13).

Miyazawa: Yeah, we got the audio on the morning of the shoot.

Ogura: We had to come up with the dance within the same day (laughs).

Miyazawa: I was wondering if we'd have a choreographer or something, but all we had was the interesting audio (laughs). We came up with the choreography on the spot, didn't we?

Ogura: We were like, "What do we do? What do we do?" (laughs).

"That was quite a terrific story (laughs). In general, for your performance, do you often leave it up to someone else?"

Miyazawa: We leave most of the movements and acting up to them. If we overdo things, they tell us, "Hold on, stop" (laughs).

Ogura: Generally, things go bad atleast once (laughs).

"The Sanseaters should be proud that they haven't lost in popularity to the Boonboomgers, but how do you feel being loved so much by the fans?"

Ogura: It's thanks to the script that we've been able to enjoy acting, and I think the Voice Actors Suwabe Junichi-san, Mizuki Nana-san, and Morohoshi Sumire-san have added alot of charm to our performances.

Miyazawa: I would've never expected Mizuki-san to be the Voice Actor for Itasha-chan, it really surprised me.

Ogura: We have meetings in advance, but we also have the desire to, "Do something natural and appropriate for the situation," so we'd start adlibbing with Yaru-chan on set. The Voice Actors will see this and make it more interesting by doing things like inserting words where we haven't said them, or by adding a performance that's appropriate to the scene.

Miyazawa: We'd think, "They even put something in here."

Ogura: Yeah, I'm often surprised when I watch the broadcasts. I think it's really wonderful, and thanks to that, they've made our characters memorable to both the eyes and ears.

"Filming for the TV series will continue, but do you have any ideas for what you'd like to do as the Sanseaters in the future?"

Miyazawa: Someday, I'd like us to become friends with the Boonboomgers.

Ogura: Yeah! Once at the very least.

Miyazawa: I'd like to get to know them alittle better, it'd be fine even if it's just for one episode or something.

Ogura: That could be interesting. If that does happen, it'd make it harder to fight them in the next episode.

Miyazawa: Also, I'd like to do more cosplay.

Ogura: We've done quite abit so far, no? (laughs).

Miyazawa: You know, we get our cosplay costumes fit every single time (laughs). I'd be happy if we got something like a ski resort episode.

Ogura: Skiing?! I guess it'd have to be the right season.

Miyazawa: Just like Christmas and Halloween, there's tons of events in Japan (laughs).

Ogura: Neither of those events originated in Japan though (laughs).

"We're looking forward to seeing more cosplay in the future! Finally, please give a message to the fans."

Miyazawa: I'd like to continue to play the role of the cute Itasha-chan, and for the three of us to live happily together. I know I'm abit inexperienced (laughs), but please continue to take care of me.

Ogura: This isn't some wedding announcement (laughs). I'm happy to hear that everyone is enjoying what the three of us, including Yaru-chan have done together. However, it really wasn't only our efforts, but also those of the Directors, Scriptwriters, Staff, and Voice Actors that created characters that were so well received. As the three of us continue to work together, we'll do our best!

[suuuupernovaaa]

ngeyn

ngeyn [ŋɛjn] adj. tired

Anonymous Request: Neteyam x F!Reader where she’s super mentally and emotionally drained and exhausted?

+

Anonymous Request: Neteyam x Omaticaya reader where she flinched during an argument?

In this fic, Neteyam is an adult (about 20) at the beginning of Avatar 2.

762 words

The journey has been longer than I expected. Neteyam's parents had told me it would be, and still, it was harder than I thought.

The last year has been hard on all of us. Everyone has suffered, and we are all tired, and I try to remember that when I feel worn out or want to complain. I try to keep quiet, and almost all of the time, I do.

Leaving the only home I have ever known has put me over the edge. I agreed without hesitation, because Neteyam is my mate, and his family is my family; I will go where he goes, no matter how far - but I miss my parents, and my own siblings, and it's hard to imagine that I may not ever be able to see them again.

As much as I love the Sullys, as much as I am a Sully... I am something else, too.

When we arrive, the beautiful shores that the Metkayina live on ease my worries for only a moment, until I see the icy reception of their Tsahik. Neteyri and Jake do their best to defend our family, and we're allowed to stay.

But they look at us like we're aliens, and one of them grabs my tail, pulling a little too hard. I yelp, and Neteyam turns on his heels, hissing.

"Neteyam!" his father calls, and Neteyam turns to him, eyes narrowed, and we fall back in line with the family. We are led to two pods, mauri, they call them, side by side. Tuk bounces happily along, and Neytiri is clearly displeased. We walk past them to our own pod, just next door, and I set what few things we have brought inside.

"It's nice," Neteyam says, and I stare at him, dropping our bags. "We have to put on a brave face."

"I'm too tired right now, Nete."

He approaches, reaching out and grabbing my arm. "I know. Chin up. It will be okay."

More forcefully that I mean to, I yank my arm from his grasp. "You don't know that! Stop pretending like everything is okay. Everything is... everything is bad, Neteyam. Allow me a few moments, to grieve my parents, and our home, and our way of life."

It will be hard to adapt here, to submit to being a student, to learning all the different ways these people live. I liked our old ways, and our old home, and I don't know who to be mad at.

Neteyam reaches out again, and I flinch away. He stands up straight, backing away.

"Y/N, I'm sorry."

Finally, I break. I have been trying for a long time to remain strong, a steady support for Neteyam, but I can't anymore.

I keep thinking of my tail being pulled on the beach, and wonder what kind of people we've settled with. Now, their cruelty has caused me to flinch at my own mate, who has never laid a hand on me in that way.

Tears spill from my eyes, and I fall forward, into Neteyam's open arms. "I'm sorry," I manage between sobs, and we sink to the floor. Neteyam cradles me in his lap, rocking slowly back and forth, as if I am a child.

I feel as foolish as one.

"I am grateful that these people have taken us in, and I am grateful for you, Neteyam, always. I'm just so tired, and I want to sleep. The thought of learning a whole new way of life is... exhausting."

He runs his fingers through my wind-tangled braids, separating them gently. "We don't have to do that today, Y/N. Today we will just rest. Tomorrow, we can worry about everything else."

Slowly, Neteyam lays back, pulling me along with him, laying me beside him. Our legs intertwine, and he cradles me to his chest.

"Just sleep now, as long as you need to." He presses a soft kiss to my temple. "Tomorrow, we will figure this all out together. You're not alone."

It's just the reminder I need. Even though I'm sad, and tired, and scared... I'm not alone. I have Neteyam, Neytiri, Jake, Kiri, Lo'ak and Tuk, and they all treat me as one of their own.

Jake calls me daughter, Neytiri calls me beloved, and even if I miss my parents, I have a true and wonderful family here.

Most importantly, I have a mate who holds me tenderly and kisses me softly while I cry, and gives me some of his strength when I need it.

We will get through it, together.

[mikefrawley]

We Are Worthy

Greetings my friends, and yes that is the old poet in living color. I hope everyone is well today. I was thinking about my be good to yourself posts from two or three months ago, and decided I needed to remind myself how good life actually is and how blessed we all truly are. After making some growth producing changes, you could accurately state that I was indeed comfortably perched atop my own personal pink cloud, which is a 12 step phrase generally describing the emotional state of someone who just turned their lives around one way or another. Well I must admit that was quite a wonderful feeling, and I truly enjoyed sharing positive thoughts and words with my friends here and at work, but then life seemed to throw in a monkey wrench as life is ofttimes wont to do. May came along and after almost 42 years as a computer programmer it was obviously time to retire, even though I probably wouldn't have made the decision on my own, my company graciously assisted me by kicking my butt out the door. For the first couple of weeks I was pretty shook up. I mean, I've never been retired before. What was I supposed to do? Miracously it turned out to be a blessing in disguise by forcing me to keep both my mind and body busy. I've taken care of some admittedly confusing yet necessary financial updates, and with all the time on my hands, I've been taking several walks a day, meditating, and watching Thich Nhat Hanh and Plum Village Videos on my computer. That was a good start, but I still had too much time on my hands and needed to take action. I first started by checking my Medicare Provider and found out that they would pay for a gym membership. I went over the next mornning and got a full membership, and I have really enjoyed it for about three weeks now. I had been trying to find a place for Buddhist Meditation or a Temple with very little luck, and by coincidence (if you happen to believe in such things, which I do not), I found a martial arts school which teaches Tai Chi. After a little more digging I discovered the teacher was from the same Chinese Boxing Lineage that I had studied with over 30 years ago. It's a small world indeed, but wait, it gets even better. I found out that my insurance would pay for the Tai Chi Class as well, and yes I signed up immediately. I apologize if this post is selfish, but it felt good to write, and maybe there is a small moral to the story. Yes everything is going surprisingly well for me, and while I'm very grateful to God, Love, Grace or whatever you wish to call it, I'm partially in this very enjoyable position because I've done what I needed to do. Admittedly I haven't always done very well with that part of it, but maybe I am deserving of my best, aren't you deserving of your best? That's about all for now, but please remember, you are indeed worthy of good things. Love to all, Mike 🩷

[makeitmingi]

Cause Baby You're My Muse [Chapter 60]

Genre: Romance, Idol!AU, Music, Slight angst

Pairing: Mingi x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Producer!Reader, IdolLyricist!Mingi, IdolProducer!Hongjoong, Idol!Seonghwa, Idol!Yunho, Idol!Wooyoung, Idol!San, Idol!Yeosang, Idol!Jongho, cameo(s) by other celebrities

Summary: You always preferred producing underground, having an unknown face and governed by your own rules. But when you start freelancing for idol groups, you say goodbye to your lone wolf lifestyle as you learn to work with idol producers and lyricists.

Word count: 4.5K

[A/N: Longer chapter to end off the series! Thank you everyone who has been patient with me and supporting me through this series.]

You took a deep breath as you stepped out of the airport. Haneul followed close, holding onto the end of your jacket as she yawned tiredly, rubbing her eye. Poor thing was half asleep, following you and trying not to sleep while walking.

*I'm home.* You smiled softly as you pushed the luggage cart through. It was 4 am in Korea so the airport was relatively empty.

"Unnie? I'm sleepy." Haneul whined.

"I know, baby. I'm sorry, let's go home and get some sleep." You chuckled. Just as you were about to get a cab, a van pulled up in front of you. You blinked in confusion until the driver came out.

"Joong?!" You yelped. Hongjoong gave you a sleepy smile as he stepped out, hugging you tightly.

"What are you doing here? It's 4 am. You should be sleeping!" You asked in shock but hugged him back nonethless.

"Ah, I can always sleep later. Of course I would be here to welcome my baby sister home. And even babier... sister?" Hongjoong chuckled, patting Haneul's head.

"Yeah, the princess is sleepy." You giggled. Hongjoong nodded and you both loaded the bags into the back. You made sure Haneul was comfortably seated in the back with the seatbelt on. Hongjoong even reclined the seat slightly for her to sleep. Then he opened the door for you to enter the passenger seat.

"I think this is the first time I've seen you drive." You chuckled.

"Really? I guess I don't have much opportunities to drive at all. Honestly, I'm surprised the manager hyungs let me take the van." He said, starting the engine.

"Well, I'm grateful you came nonetheless." You said as he pulled away from the sidewalk and drove to where your apartment was.

This new apartment was arranged close to the HYBE building, put together, prepared and arranged by the Big Hit team for your return to Korea.

The 2 year overseas stint was done and with investigations over, you could safely return with Haneul. Turns out, it was KQ CEO's own personal assistant that sent you those threats.

She caught you and Mingi once and was jealous. She thought she could get close to the boys, being the CEO's personal assistant, and possibly form a relationship with one of them. But it didn't work. She hated that you got close with them so quickly.

Once investigations were concluded, she was taken to jail. There was news article about it. But the details of the case was not made public.

"How was the flight?" Hongjoong asked, breaking your train of thought.

"Stuffy and long. It feels good to be out of there, I can finally stretch my legs properly and the air isn't so stale anymore. Plus, it feels good to be home." You let out a long exhale.

"Yeah, those kidns of flights always feel too long. Are all your stuff in the new place already?" He continued.

"Hmmm, not yet. Most of our stuff are but I had some last minute stuff to pack. They'll get shipped over in due time. But I think I have enough to unpack and keep me busy for a bit." You sighed.

"We'll help in any way that we can since we're on vacation." He told you. Ateez had finished touring and completed yet another successful comeback season. Now, they were on their well deserved vacation time.

"Alright, here we are." Hongjoong pulled up into the carpark. You turned around to see Haneul fast asleep.

"If you can help me put her on my back, I'll piggy back her up to the apartment." Hongjoong said, noticing your concern before you could even voice it.

"Really? She's not exactly a little kid anymore." You asked with uncertainty, you didn't want him injuring his back somehow.

"If I wasn't sure, I wouldn't have offered. Come." Hongjoong got out. You opened the door and unbuckled Haneul's seat belt. You carefully moved her onto Hongjoong's awaiting back.

"There we go." He stood up, making sure the support her bottom.

"Let's bring her up before coming to get the bags. You shouldn't be carrying all of them on your own." He said.

"Alright. I'll just take my small bag." You took your cabin bag. You tapped the access card on the lift panel to go up and put in the password on the door lock. Big Hit assured you that this apartment compelx had the best security, which was your main concern. You held the door open for Hongjoong to enter.

"This way?" He asked. You nodded, showing him Haneul's own room. Luckily, you had made sure that she had a bed upon arrival. You removed the vinyl covering and Hongjoong placed her down.

"Let's bring the bags up." You said to him. The both of you brought up all the bags in one trip.

"Just hold on a second. Let me get Haneul settled." You rushed back to Haneul's room to remove her jacket and shoes.

"Thanks again, Joong."

"Stop thanking me." Hongjoong laughed. You looked around the house, some furniture was set up as per your request. The moving boxes were neatly piled in a corner.

"I need to order some groceries to the house. Hopefully they will get here by morning." You rubbed your forehead while scrolling on your phone.

"Or we can go get some stuff in the morning." Hongjoong suggested, settling beside you on the couch. You let out a contemplative hum. You sighed and leaned against his shoulder, his hand coming up to pat your head.

"Wooyoung and Jongho would kill me when they wake up, knowing I came to pick you and Haneul without them." He chuckled.

"Ooh yeah, can't help you out of that one." You winced. Hongjoong pulled away to shoot you a glare.

"What? You know it's true. Wooyoung loves me and Haneul has Jongho wrapped around her little finger, the moment they are together, they're inseparable." You shrugged.

"I don't want to die. My vacation just started." Hongjoong groaned.

"You are more than welcome to crash here for the rest of the night." You patted his thigh.

"I may just take you up on that offer since I don't want to drive back. But what about you? Please don't tell me you're going to pull an all nighter and unpack." He raised an eyebrow.

"I'm going to shower first then unpack the necessities at least. It is going to take a while for Haneul and I to get over the time difference. Might as well use the time to be productive somehow." You stood up, going to your luggage to get the small soaps that you had packed with you. Hongjoong let out a defeated sigh.

"When do you start work?" Hongjoong asked with a yawn, turning to lay across the couch now that you were not sitting there.

"Two weeks? Need time to settle the moving stuff, Haneul's school and get over jetlag." You rubbed your eye as you sat in front of your luggage to get sleepwear out.

"Alright, I'm going to shower." You announced as you stood up. Hongjoong nodded and waved you off.

"Indi?" He called out. You turned around, blinking.

"Welcome home." He gave you a sleepy smile. You couldn't help the soft smile that formed.

"Feels good to be home, Joong. And call me (y/n)." You said softly and went into the bathroom. You were grateful Hongjoong was the first person you saw when you stepped off the plane.

Seeing Hongjoong made you feel more calm and collected, just having him around was comforting enough. Mingi didn't know you were coming home today though, you wanted to keep it a secret and surprise him later on.

When you came out, Hongjoong was fast asleep, snoring softly. You took the blanket you had in your suitcase and covered him with it.

"Now, let's unpack." You sighed softly, sitting in front of the luggages and boxes with the necessities you and Haneul would need before you could get to the other stuff.

"Luckily there's no dust." You noted, putting Haneul's clothes in her closet. You went over to her sleeping form.

"I love you." You kissed her head and slept beside her instead of your own bed.

By the time you woke up, you heard Haneul speaking to someone outside. It wasn't just Hongjoong's voice though. You poked your head out to see Haneul on Jongho's lap.

"You just can't resist her, can you?" You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. Jongho shrugged, focusing back on Haneul.

"Wooyoung hyung went to get food for all of us. Hongjoong hyung drove him. You can go back to sleep if you want, I got it covered here." Jongho informed, gesturing to Haneul busy drawing with him at the table. You nodded and yawned, waving to the two before collapsing back onto the bed.

"Indigo... Wake up..." You didn't feel like you slept long before Wooyoung was laying in bed with you, wrapping his arms around you to snuggle.

"Hi, Woo." You opened your eyes.

"Welcome home. I missed you." He smiled softly, holding your face to give you a big smooch on your cheek.

"I missed you too. All of you." You chuckled, draping your arms and legs over him just like he was your own bolster. You let out a tired sigh, eyes closing again.

"As much as I would love to cuddle, I told Hongjoong hyung I would get you up to get some food in you." Wooyoung chuckled.

"Alright, let's not get in trouble with Joong. Oh and Woo? Call me (y/n)." You pushed yourself up and got out of bed to wash up, leaving a stunned Wooyoung there. You heard him yell in the room.

"Unnie!" Haneul grinned from her spot on the couch. She jumped down and ran over to hug you.

"Hey, baby." You leaned down to hug her, patting her butt and kissing her head. She held your hand, following you to the bathroom. She stood at the door, waiting for you to brush your teeth, wash your hair and do your skincare.

"Are you tired, baby? It'll be a while for us to adjust back to Korean time." You chuckled, combing her hair after you combed her own. She shook her head.

"I'm not sleepy."

"Alright, alright." You patted her head. You knew she wasn't tired now but she will definitely feel it later.

"Let's go eat!" She pulled you along to the living room where the boys were sitting at the dining table already, with disposable cutlery since you haven't unpacked any kitchen stuff.

"Sorry for the mess of the house. And the lack of kitchen utensils." You apologised.

"You just came back this morning, it's completely understandable. No need to apologise." Jongho chuckled, pulling the chair out for Haneul to sit next to you. Wooyoung slid an iced coffee over to you. You took a sip and let out a blissful sigh of gratefulness. The coffee machine also wasn't set up yet.

"I got you some basic groceries. Not sure what you use specifically but we got the princess some yoghurt, milk, eggs, your iced coffee, etc." Wooyoung informed.

"You guys are life savers. Let me know how much it costs and I'll wire you back." You said, taking a portion of food for Haneul.

"No need. Take it as a welcome back gift. And don't argue with me." Wooyoung shook his head.

"What's your plan after this?" Hongjoong asked.

"I'm gonna see Mingi's mom. Then surprise Mings at the dorm." You replied, chewing your food. You leaned over to help Haneul wipe the sauce off her lip.

"Sleepover?!" Haneul's eyes brightened, looking over at you. You couldn't help but laugh at how excited she looked.

"We'll see." You said. You didn't want the boys, especially Jongho, to think that you were always leaving Haneul with them. At some point, you didn't want Haneul to think that you were never around too. So you would have to consider it.

When you were done, the boys helped you with clearing up. You were feeling a little stressed, knowing you still had to do the unpacking of the house.

"Why are you frowning?" Hongjoong came up behind you, massaging your shoulders as you were washing your hands in the kitchen sink.

"Moving is always stressful. Knowing how much more there is to be done is worrying." You sighed.

"I know me telling you not to stress won't really help. But seriously, count on us to help you with all this. You and Haneul can stay with any of us if you'd like." He comforted.

"Thank you. I don't know what I'd do without any of you." You leaned against the counter.

"Suffer." Hongjoong teased, making you jab him in the ribs.

After a bit, you got yourself and Haneul ready before the boys dropped you off at Mingi's mother's apartment. You chewed on your bottom lip as you stood at the lip. You didn't know how much she knew about what happened. She would know that you and Mingi separated right?

"Unnie, are you okay?" Haneul looked up at you. She wanted to buy Mingi's mother a 'present' too so you prepared a little fruit basket for her to give. She was a lot more excited than you.

"I'm fine, baby. Don't worry." You smiled and pressed the lift to go up. The lady might yell at you and kick you out of her house.

She had every right to.

"We're here." You said, stopping before the door. Haneul put the basket down, tip toeing to press the doorbell. You gulped as you heard the door lock beep.

"Hello?" Mrs Song opened the door. She seemed to pause when you saw her. The first thing you did was bow deeply.

"Omonim, I-" She cut you off, pulling you into hug. You blinked in confusion, not really expecting her to hug you. Haneul giggled beside you.

"Let's talk inside." She pulled away, smiling at you softly. You nodded and let Haneul in. She removed her shoes before holding out the fruits basket out to Mingi's mother with the biggest grin ever. Mrs Song cooed and bent down.

"My name is Haneul." She introduced.

"Thank you, Haneulie. This is really sweet of you. I'm Mingi oppa's omma. You can call me omonim too." She received the basket and gave Haneul a hug.

"So this is the famous (y/n)." A deep male voice said. Your eyes widened as you saw an older man sitting on the couch.

"Mr Song, it's nice to meet you. I'm (y/n)." You bowed to Mingi's father. He was tall as well, features similar to Mingi's. He chuckled and stood up, moving to stand in front of you.

"It's nice to finally meet you too, (y/n). I can see why my son has fallen head over heels for you."

"Jagiya! Don't embarrass our son." Mrs Song hit her husband's shoulder.

"Just call me abonim, no need for Mr Song. It's too formal. We're family here." He shook his head. You nodded and bowed your head. You waved Haneul over to introduce herself to Mingi's father. She bowed formally before introducing herself. Just like everyone else, you could see the way he melted when Haneul spoke.

"(y/n)." Mrs Song called you over as Haneul was distracted by Mr Song. You went over to the kitchen. Seeing that it was finally the two of you, you finally did what you wanted to do.

"I'm so sorry for everything I, omonim. I don't deserve-"

"Stop." She cut you off. You squeezed your eyes, awaiting the lecture that was coming.

"(y/n)..." She called and you straightened up. You could see how she softened and reached out to hug you tightly. You wrapped your arms around her.

"It's not been easy, hasn't it?" She whispered.

"No... It has not..." Your bottom lip quivered as tears threatened to fall again. At that point, you knew that she knew what really happened.

"I hurt him so bad, omonim. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." You shook your head. She rubbed your back.

"(y/n), you went through a lot. I know you didn't intentionally hurt him. I don't blame you, abonim doesn't blame you. You went through a lot on your own and you had to be strong for Haneul. You didn't deserve to go through that." She pulled away, staring at you.

"You did it because you wanted to keep Mingi safe. You wanted to keep Haneul and Ateez safe. I understand." She rubbed your arm. You nodded your head.

"I'm just glad you and Mingi worked it out." Grabbing a tissue, she wiped your tears.

"I don't deserve his forgiveness, or any of yours."

"Let's not talk about who doesn't deserve what. Because Mingi would say he doesn't deserve such a selfless person like yourself. Every couple goes through hardships." She smiled softly.

"I'm glad Mingi didn't let you get away. I knew that you weren't the type to just break his heart and leave." She said.

"Thank you for everything." You hugged her again.

"Nothing to thank me for. Now, I have two daughters to care for." She giggled, looking over at how Haneul was now seated on Mingi's father's lap, animatedly telling him something. He had a fatherly smile on his face as he listened to her intently. You couldn't help the laugh that escaped you.

"So have you gone to see my pabo son yet?" Mrs Song asked as she moved to cut up the fruit that Haneul gave her.

"Hmm, not yet. He doesn't even know I'm back. I'm planning to surprise him later on at the dorm but I wanted to drop by here first. It's been too long." You said, leaning back against the counter.

"How was it? Living in America."

"It was interesting, I learnt a lot there in terms of work. Culture is different too. But nothing beats being at home." You shrugged.

"Oh yes, I forgot Mingi told me that you signed to a big company. But of course, home is still the best. Home is where your family is." She chuckled. You nodded in agreement.

"Alright, you two. Let's have some fruit." Mrs Song brought the cut fruit out to Mr Song and Haneul.

"Abonim." Haneul beamed and held out the pick with an pear slice at the end. Mr Song chuckled and leaned down to take a bite, patting Haneul's head. You grabbed an apple slice and handed it to Mrs Song, who was seated on the couch beside her husband.

"Is this what it's like having daughters?" Mr Song asked, staring at Haneul and you fondly.

"Right? I said the same thing when I first met (y/n)." Mrs Song giggled. You laughed, knowing Mingi and his brother would not be amused at their parents fawning over having daughters.

"I think I like having two daughters." Mr Song tapped his chin.

"Better not let your sons hear you say that." Mrs Song slapped his arm lightly.

"Please like you don't tell Mingi that you like (y/n) more." He rolled his eyes. The way they joked and interacted, you hoped that you could be like that with Mingi one day.

When the fruit was finished and you spent some time with Mingi's parents, you got ready to leave to Mingi, Seonghwa and San's shared dorm. You didn't want to go too late, especially with Mingi already having texted you a few times while you were at his parents' place. Haneul hugged the two.

"See you next time!" She giggled, hugging them tightly.

"Yes, you are welcome any time. Good girl. Be good to your unnie." Mrs Song chuckled, hugging her. She nodded her head and went to hug Mingi's father.

"Come back soon, alright?" He kissed her head and hugged her tightly. You melted, glad they got along well with her.

"Bring her back to me soon. And yourself too, (y/n)." Mr Song said, hugging you.

"I will, abonim. Thank you for having us and entertaining Haneul. Please take care." You chuckled. Then you moved on to Mingi's mother, who hugged you extra tight.

"Don't stay away for too long." She told you.

"I won't. Take care." You bid them goodbye with a final bow before leaving. With Haneul by your side, you called for a cab to take the two of you over to the dorm. During the drive, Haneul fell asleep. Poor thing, she was probably fighting the sleep for a long time.

When the cab pulled up to the dorm, you sent San and Seonghwa a message to let them know you were downstairs. You had to wake Haneul up.

"No..." She whined.

"I'm sorry, baby. You can sleep soon." You apologised, really feeling bad. You should have properly let her adjust to the time difference instead of drag her out with you the entire day.

"Hey." You greeted San and Seonghwa. Seonghwa hugged you while San helped a sleepy Haneul to his room.

"I missed you." Seonghwa hugged you tightly.

"I missed you too, Hwa." You relaxed in his arms, smiling. When San came back out after helping you settle Haneul into his bed, you hugged him too.

"Good to have you back, Indigo." He chuckled, stroking your head. You hummed in agreement. Seonghwa went to the kitchen to get you a drink. You received the glass of juice and took a sip, sitting on the couch with them for a while. San had informed you that Mingi was napping so he didn't come out to greet you.

"I shouldn't have dragged Haneul out. Poor girl, she's probably exhausted." You sighed.

"She'll adjust soon. Don't worry too much. She can sleep in my bed for as long as she needs." San smiled kindly.

"Thank you." You smiled. The way all the boys were just always ready to help you and Haneul melted your heart. They really treated you both like family.

"As much as I would like to catch up with you, this is the perfect time to surprise Mingi." Seonghwa said.

"Right. I hope he's still asleep." You put the glass down and stood up. San and Seonghwa watched in amusement.

"Good luck." San wished. You pressed your ear against Mingi's door to hear if he was awake. There was no sound of movement or Mingi's voice, which meant that he was still asleep.

You took a deep breath, it had been so long since you've seen Mingi physically that your heart was pounding. You slowly turned the door knob and crept in. Mingi was still sleeping, tucked under the blanket with his back to you. Getting in bed behind him, you hugged him.

"Ugh, San?" Mingi croaked out with a groan. San was known to go to the other members' rooms to cuddle so he must have assumed you were him.

"What time is it? Go back to your own bed and let me sleep..." He clicked his tongue.

"Fine. If that's what you want, I'll go." You chuckled. You felt Mingi's body freeze in your hold. His head whipped around and his eyes widening as he looked at your face.

"BABY?!" He sat up and looked at you as if he was dreaming, rubbing his eyes.

"What are you doing here?!" He asked.

"Surprising you." You laughed at his expression. Mingi's hands immediately came to cup your cheeks, pulling you to him so he could press his lips to yours.

"Wait, when did you come back? I'm confused, you didn't mention this to me at all when we texted or called. I'm not actually dreaming, am I?" He pulled you to his chest to hug you.

"You just kissed me and you're physically hugging me now, pabo. How can you still think you're dreaming? And I already said that it's a surprise, that's why I didn't tell you. I came back early this morning, Joong came to pick me up at the airport." You laughed. Mingi scratched his head, letting all this sink in.

"How long are you back for, baby?" He asked, fingers coming to weave through your hair as he held your cheek.

"Forever. I'm staying forever, Mings." You softened.

"Y-You are?" His voice shook, as if he couldn't believe what you were saying right now. You nodded with a hum, wrapping your arms around him as you sat in his lap.

"I missed you so much. Now I have you with me forever." He looked at you, pressing his forehead against yours.

"Yes, no more distance." You said softly.

"If you two are done with your reunion, could you come out, please?" Someone knocked on the bedroom door. You and Mingi looked at each other in confusion. You went to open the door.

"Welcome home, Indigo!" All the Ateez boys were there with Seonghwa holding a cake.

"Shhh, Haneul is sleeping." San reminded and Jongho nodded, looking at everyone threateningly. They wouldn't dare be loud now.

"Guys..." You softened, not expecting them to be the one to surprise you. You soon felt Mingi's presence behind you, he put his hands on your shoulders.

"Thank you for welcoming me home. It feels good to be back with all of you. And please, we're family, aren't we? Family calls me (y/n)." You looked at all of them. They all stared at you with soft smiles at the mention of your real name. You went over to greet Yeosang and Yunho with hugs since you haven't seen them.

"Good to have you back, (y/n)." Yunho whispered. You nodded and patted his back. With everything that happened, you're glad you and Yunho could come to an understanding and work things out.

"You've lost weight. Have you not been eating well?" Yeosang chided as he lifted you up.

"I have been, I promise!" You laughed, slapping his shoulder.

"Now that she's back, we'll make sure she's really eating well. We ordered a lot food to celebrate! So eat up." Hongjoong said. You giggled and nodded, about to follow behind the boys to where the food was.

"Mings?" You blinked when you felt him hold your wrist to stop you. You turned back to him, only for him to tug you to him, until you fell against his chest.

"Welcome home, baby. You're finally home where you belong." Mingi whispered. You melted, looking up at him before you hugged him back, your ear pressed to his chest to hear his heartbeat.

"I love you, Mings." You said.

"I love you too, my muse. I'm never letting you go again." He kissed the top of your head, holding you just a little tighter.

You couldn't agree more. Home was here, with Hanuel, Mr and Mrs Song, Ateez and Mingi. These people were your family, people you knew you could rely on and count on. And you wouldn't change it for anything in the world.

~

Series Masterlist

[dark-angel-of-muses]

Ravioli Good Omens AU

Been losing my kind over this with @breannasfluff haha

Legend is a tired, bitter angel who really doesn't want to give ungrateful people blessings

Ravio is a nervous, lonely demon that is supposed to sell cursed objects at a Needful Things type curio shop but keeps all his cursed merch off the shelves and runs a normal shop. Bad for customer retention when they're cursed whenever they buy from your shop, you know.

Ravio and Legend fudge their respective reports blaming each other for whenever their work doesn't get done. Oh, Ravio wanted to sell that cursed doll to someone, but the curse was removed by that Angel! Oh, Legend tried to hand out blessings, but they were siphoned away by that terrible demon!

Meanwhile they actually just live normal lives and ignore their divine/demonic ordained duties. Legend tends a small apple orchard. Ravio has a key to his his house and if either is asked how that happened they will dodge the question.

Ravio also has a "demonic familiar" bird that's actually just a normal bird he adopted. Hi Sheerow.

Ficlet under the cut!

"Um, Mr. Hero Angel sir? Excuse me? May I come in? I'd knock but, ah, your halo is right there on the door. I'm afraid I'd rather not be horribly burned?"

Link rolled his eyes. This demon. Link never even locked the doors anymore. He was being polite by asking to come in. But he was a demon! He didn't have to be polite! Besides, Link hadn't worn his halo in years, preferring to keep it as a door knocker. The remaining angelic power scared people, which meant he could reduce the number of visitors knocking at his door asking for blessings.

Link opened the door, fixing Ravio with a critical look. "I see you've brought a friend today."

Sheerow stared unblinking back at the angel. Ravio had taken him on as a pet after the little bird made a nest on his windowsill and refused to leave.

"Ah, well. You see, I needed to bring him along. I ask for a favor. Just a tiny one!"

Link groaned, swinging the door wide and letting the demon in. If it had been a human, he would have shut the door in their face, but Ravio was.... special. They'd been in each other's orbit since creation. Link was supposed to give blessings, Ravio was supposed to place curses. For a while, they did their jobs, occasionally getting in each other's way. Link would break some curses, Ravio would steal away some blessings.

Eventually, they made an agreement to stop interfering entirely. Link was tired of handing out blessings while his Bosses were thanked, and Ravio didn't much like giving curses. Made one a bit lonely when everyone they met encountered a horrible fate. If anyone asked, they were doing the same work they'd always done, since their output was about the same.

"You want tea?" Link walked to the kitchen to start the kettle.

"Ah, it's not holy water if _you_ boil it, right?" Ravio shuffled nervously, black wings fluttering.

"No. If all I had to do to bless something was touch it, I wouldn't hate blessing so much. Besides, it's not like when you boil pasta, the spaghetti becomes demonic." Link rolled his eyes at the thought. Ravio was so nervous about cavorting with an Angel. Link knew their superiors didn't care. As long as the status quo was maintained, a little rule breaking wasn't noted by either side.

"It's not like I'm cooking for anyone else, I wouldn't know," Ravio protested.

Link dropped the black tea bags into the kettle and left it to set as he flopped into his favorite armchair. "Alright, demon. What's the favor?"

"Could you perform a blessing for me?"

Link blinked. Was he being pranked? "Excuse me?"

"It's just, I've grown fond of this little guy," Ravio scooped Sheerow into his palm, holding the bird up with one hand and covering him with the other, "And I read that birds only live 30 years, and Sheerow was an adult when I found him! If you could bless him with longevity, I would be so grateful!" Ravio bit his lip, buck teeth showing as his nose twitched.

"You do realize if your people downstairs heard that question, they would smite you?"

Ravio blushed. "Look, if it's a no, we can pretend this conversation never happened. I just thought, since we already had a deal and all, you might help me out? I do promise to pay you back! Uh, if this conversation happened. Did it happen?" Ravio's primary feathers twitched and puffed.

Link rolled his eyes. "Pay me back? What, can you curse the mealworms rotting my apples?"

"Done! They'll be cursed with an affliction so they never desire to eat again! Starvation from apathy. Lots of suffering, I promise!"

Link stared. Was he serious? He had meant it as a joke, but Ravio's face was fully earnest. He... really wanted this. Wanted to get a blessing and fully willing to pay back in a way only he could.

"Well. alright. I'll bless your bird. After all, I can't just leave him in the hands of a demon unarmed, can I? If he lives long, maybe he can tempt you into good."

"Thank you so much! I'll make sure the curse lingers, no pest will ever touch your apples without suffering again!"

He was too good to be a demon. Then again, Link was pretty bad for an angel. Maybe they fit neatly together.

[wanderingelvis]

Heyy so i have a request since u want some ideas mabye like an elvis x Innocent reader 🤷🏽‍♀️ I mean I don't have that much imagination so whatever u do with it will be brilliant 💕

Oh wow! My first request and I've barely started but this is such a dream request, so thank you!! Here goes nothing, I hope you like it! 🧚 🧚🏻 Masterlist 🧚🏻 word count: 1,503 pairing: elvis presley x f!reader

Ever since you'd been signed to the same label as Elvis, you'd struggled adjusting to the Hollywood lifestyle. You'd found a friend in Elvis though, something you'd never thought you'd say. As soon as he'd met you, he'd been kind, protective and patient with you, when not many people had been. He'd let you spend time in his trailer between takes and rehearsals which you were grateful for, especially since you were having a tough time in media training classes with other new talent that had been signed.  The boys and girls in those classes weren't as kind to you as Elvis was, they all came from the Hollywood area, with rich relatives who were higher up in the label, whereas you'd auditioned and came from a pokey little town out in California. You tried your best to fit in but your upbringing just hadn't been the same. 

That's where Elvis felt awful protective of you, he'd faced a similar difficulty, growing up in Tupelo all those years ago. He could see the talent and potential in you, not to mention how hard you worked. He didn't want you to face the same hardships he'd had to. 

You'd had enough today, you'd been made fun of, yet again by the other guys that were all training to be dancers and stunt guys, and it had all gotten too much. You missed home and everything that came with it. You made a beeline for Elvis' dressing room, keeping your head down because you knew if someone even dared to ask if you were okay, you'd burst into tears.  You gently knocked on the door, praying that Elvis was there and hopefully not with his entourage. The door swung open and you were met with Elvis' grin.  "Are you busy? I don't wanna bother you." You asked quietly, looking past him to see if he had company. 

Elvis moved away from the entrance, making room for you to walk in, "No honey, want to come in?" You nodded, walking into the room that smelt of cigar smoke as he closed the door behind you. "Don't you have your press conference training now little one?" Elvis asked as he went to pour himself a drink.  "M'not going." You said grumpily, collapsing down onto the plush couch.  "I know it's a drag baby, but you gotta go, I made your Momma a promise that you wouldn't slack on your work." Elvis chuckled, not clocking onto your upset mood yet.  "I said I'm not going!" You snapped, your voice cracking a little. You were just so upset at always being left out and feeling like an idiot.  Elvis stalled, he hadn't heard you speak like that before, especially not to him. You were an innocent little thing, everyone on set knew it and you would never openly challenge or disobey anyone, whether it was a label executive or one of the catering staff.  "Baby, I don't know where you found that goddamn attitude but you best get rid of it right now. I ain't gonna let no little girl talk to me like that." Elvis warned, walking over to you. 

The harsh words tipped you over the edge, the last thing you'd wanted was to upset your one friend on set. You were just frustrated and Elvis snapping at you caused you to burst into soft sobs. You covered your face with your hands as you blubbed and Elvis immediately softened, taken aback with concern as he watched you hiccup and cry. "M'sorry," You choked. "I had a b-bad day." You stuttered, tripping on your words as you let out soft cries. "Oh little un', what's happened hm?" He cooed, sitting next to you, placing his hand on your back, rubbing soothing circles as he grabbed some tissues with his other hand to give to you. "I miss home, Elvis," You said quietly, "Everyone at the rehearsals and classes is so mean and they say stuff and I don't know what they mean and um," You paused to sniffle and wipe your pink nose, "They all laugh at me and it's n-not funny." You said as you sat cross legged on the couch, your whole body now facing Elvis. "What are they saying baby?" Elvis asked gently. He wasn't exactly surprised at what you said, you were an easy target, you were sweet, kind and gentle and it was a tough industry, one you weren't exactly made for. "I don't know, I don't understand it." You said quietly, feeling dumb and ashamed. "Can you tell me what they said to you, little?" Elvis encouraged.  You paused, taking a wobbly breath, glancing at Elvis who only smiled at you. He never made you feel dumb or stupid, even if you could be at times, a bit naive. "They a-asked me if I 'give a head' or if I ever have done and I said I don't know w-what that means, because I don't!" You said, tearily. "A-and they all laughed at me and they wouldn't tell me and I don't know what they mean and it's really confusing." You said, quietly trailing off.  Elvis felt his blood boil. He knew he was protective of you, the baby in front of him, everyone knew he was and maybe he was overprotective at times but how could he not be when this would happen to you? In front of him was the sweetest little girl and whilst Elvis would never call you dumb, even if other people might, he knew you were just innocent and inexperienced and definitely someone that somebody with bad intentions could take advantage of easily. It made Elvis, rightly or wrongly, want to protect you and take care of you in the way that he saw fit and that way was to preserve your innocence.  If Elvis could have his way, he'd take you away from all of this sin and misdemeanour, all the way to his home, Graceland, where he would let you stay and do everything you loved without the stress and pressure of working this gruelling schedule. "Who said this to you?" Elvis said sternly. "It's all of them Elvis, i-it's just confusing." You hiccuped. "I want a name, Y/N." Elvis said as you glanced up at him through wet lashes. "Paulie Matthews." You mumbled softly. "Are you gonna make me go back to rehearsal?" You asked meekly. "No honey, you're gonna stay right here, with me." As soon as Elvis said that, it was as if a visible weight had lifted from your shoulders. Elvis knew the press team would be angry at the lack of your attendance but he had enough power that no-one would question it. 

"Elvis?" "Yes, little one?" Elvis said, gently pushing back some hair that had fallen in front of your face. "What does 'give a head' mean?" Your brows furrowed together and cocked your head to the side with confusion and curiousity. Elvis breathed a heavy sigh at your question and the innocence in the way that you said it, before the door burst open with laughter and chatter, making you jump slightly. Elvis rubbed your back soothingly straight away to try and calm you. It was Jerry, Red, and the rest of the Mafia, chatting after their outing to the local steakhouse. "What have I told you about goddamn knockin'?" Elvis barked furiously. The guys all apologised, insisting that Elvis just needed to hear this story about how Red had pulled a waitress and got a free steak out of it, none of them paying any attention to you, the sweet thing, sat near Elvis. As the bustling continued, Elvis noticed you shuffled a little closer to him. 

You were visibly overwhelmed at all the men and the commotion. "You okay baby?" Elvis whispered to you softly. You chewed your lip feverishly. "Want to stay by my side and keep me company?" He offered, in a sweet and gentle tone. You nodded almost instantly, making Elvis smile down at you. "C'mere sweetheart." He nodded. You nestled into his side as he led his arm across the back of the couch, allowing you to perfectly slot in next to him. Elvis pet your hair and placed a tender kiss atop your head, as your wobbly breathing evened out.  "Elvis?" You whispered. Elvis hummed in response, lowering his head so you could whisper in his ear cutely. You leaned up a little, putting your hand by your mouth so no one could see or hear what you were whispering. "Do ya think the guys might know what 'give a head' means? Should I ask them?" You asked before moving back a little so you could study his face. Elvis laughed a little at you, he couldn't help but adore how sweet and innocent you were. "No baby, I'll show you later, you just relax now pretty girl." Elvis smiled. You smiled back, feeling relieved that you could always be yourself around the most famous man in the world.

[always-andromeda]

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐋𝐋, 𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐃

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐎𝐄𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ✯ Father Paul Hill x Fem!Reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ✯ 2925

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 ✯ taboo au + "Everything I've done...every atrocity, it's been for you."

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ✯ okay, I haven't exactly finished a piece in a good while. so this one is sort of serving as a warm-up and if it's terrible (which I have a good feeling it is lmao), I'm gonna have to ask y'all to be gentle on me. I've loved this man for a while now and this is sort of experimental. tl;dr: I am a sensitive little baby right now so treat me as such.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ✯ smut (minors, do not interact), obviously a pretty massive gap in both age and power, depictions of blood and death, could be read as dub con at first (if you squint really hard) but firmly lands on the side of full con, a lot of religious mumbo jumbo (lmao let's ignore the fact that I know almost nothing about Catholicism <3), so much blasphemy, oral (female receiving), a twinge of sub!Paul, and that's all I can think of!! let me know if more is needed!!

(mdni banner template credit goes to @cafekitsune!!)

Behind closed eyelids, all you saw was darkness. And through that darkness came white hot agony. It was practically blinding as it shot up your spine before detonating in your brain. Those little fragments of pain speckled across the inside of your skull.

You wanted to scream, hurl, cry, something. Anything to physically release the intense pain assaulted your nerves. But you wouldn't be granted that mercy. No.

For now, your suffering was confined to this unending darkness. For now, you waited in the void of your own being for the tragedy to subside.

For weeks you anxiously waited for the return of Monsignor Pruitt from his mission trip. Though spending your afternoons looking after the dementia ridden clergyman wasn't exactly your idea of a good time, it was far better than slumming it with Beverly Keane. After all, you were 99% sure that whatever Bev heard managed to make its way all around the island.

Crockett Island was a melting pot of rumors. By now you'd heard the stories; the mythology of the island's residents had woven together to form a complex tapestry. And the longer you stayed, the more you realized how little you desired to be a part of it all.

But you didn't have a choice. Whether you liked it or not, Crockett's citizens had already spun your narrative.

Everyone knew how your mother had taken you away from the island at the ripe age of five years old; saving you the heartache of being raised by an alcoholic father. Part of you had always been grateful for it despite how tough it had been being raised by a single mother who hardly had anything to her name. Yet you couldn't help the guilt that poured into your lungs like cement whenever someone mentioned how much your father had suffered before he died.

Because that was the only way you would've gone back to the island that lived in the shadows of your memory: death. And upon meeting Monsignor Pruitt, it became clear that death would also be the only way you'd want to leave.

The relationship that had bloomed between you and him was a humble one. He'd offered to talk you through your grief which you'd promptly denied. Though you attended services, you weren't much for religion and you weren't about to embrace it fresh off of the death of a father who was practically a stranger. It felt disingenuous.

Finding God is reserved for real tragedies, right?

You'd asked the question like it was a joke.

Monsignor Pruitt had merely tilted his head before replying in that lilting, raspy voice of his: Depends on what you think qualifies as a tragedy.

With a quick eye roll, you'd written the answer off as one of those unbalanced moments of his. Over the course of a few months, you'd become well acquainted with them. Going to services and keeping him company was something to do. Something other than rifling through decades of your father's clutter and further entangling yourself with the community. Something other than being reminded of your own wasted potential.

Strangely, the monsignor felt less like an all seeing eye and more like...a friend. And now, faced with his "temporary" replacement, you were finally certain of what qualified as a tragedy to you.

From the moment Father Paul had addressed the church, you were unsettled. He may have been perfectly kind and personable enough, but his mannerisms edged on the uncanny valley. It was the way he spoke during sermons and how that tone rarely changed during one-on-one conversations. Though he couldn't have been older than thirty, he often held himself as if he'd been around the block more times than anyone could fathom. It was easy to chalk it up to his nature. Of course the man of God had an eerie way of making you feel like a puny mortal.

But Monsignor Pruitt had never made you feel like that. You couldn't brush the thought of the old man out of your mind.

Every time Father Paul attempted to placate your worries, it only pushed you deeper into the depths of distrust. Somehow you just knew he was lying.

And for all of Father Paul's wisdom and mystique, he wasn't a good liar. His tone would shift as he glossed over your concerns with a quick reassurance that Monsignor Pruitt was recovering just fine on the mainland. When you felt brave enough to press him for more, he'd wring his hands or squeeze them into fists. Almost as if he had to physically stop himself from reprimanding you. After all, who were you to question him?

When your eyes finally opened, your vision was overwhelmed by the light. Softly, slowly, the light haloed around the head of a figure that carefully came into view. As your sight sharpened, you quickly realized who stood over you. 

The man you held the most wariness for was kneeling over you. His long face wrought with concern, the alarm bells were already blaring in your muddled mind. But as much as you tried to force the air from your lungs to scream, you could only let out a pathetic, strangled squeak.

That was when he spoke. His voice shook with what sounded like uncertainty, "You mustn't overexert yourself. You're still coming back. But don't worry, you'll be yourself again soon. All in due time."

No matter how much you tried to speak, to move, neither of the actions came to you. All you could do is watch as Father Paul pulled your paralyzed body into his arms and cradled you. And as the potency of your helplessness settled in, you vaguely felt tears prick at your waterline. 

Normally, you would've rather died than allowing yourself to cry in front of someone, especially in front of the father. This time you couldn't control the few tears that slid freely down your cheeks, landing on the father's hand where he gripped your still aching shoulder.

He noticed them immediately and let you out of his grasp long enough to stare into your glossy eyes.

You couldn't quite decipher the intent behind the softness of his gaze. But somehow it was enough to allow the nausea that had slowly been rising in your chest to subside.

Father Paul raised a hand to cup your face. His thumb carefully stroked your cheek, sweeping away the wet trails left by your despair. And whether it was from your sensitivity or the intimacy of the act, you didn't know. But your skin shivered. 

As you gradually regained the feeling in your body, you realized that the first thing you felt after the pain was him. The inherent warmth of his embrace. And in some fucked up way, it was comforting. Feeling like prey, you blinked back the rest of your tears and allowed yourself to soak up as much of him as you could; anything to get rid of the dull pain that plagued your nerves.

You noticed there were tears brimming his own eyes as he smiled softly. "There, you mustn't cry. You've been so brave and in return you've been blessed."

It was then that you began to regain enough cognizance to question what was happening.

Flashes of memory played each time you blinked.

That damned question had been on the tip of your tongue again.

So you found him in the recreational center. There he’d been, on his knees, praying fervently.

Hopefully you're praying for the monsignor's return.

You regretted the words almost as soon as you'd said them. Because as soon as Paul turned, he gave you that dark look that rarely graced his features. This time he hadn't even tried to hide it with his usual discretion.

He merely stared right past you with his eyes wide and pleading. 

You hadn't had the chance to see the thing that attacked you fully. But you felt its teeth at your neck. You felt your own blood dripping from your neck in such a thick stream that the dizziness came almost as soon as you hit the ground. You felt the rough, pale skin of the creature as it smothered you, greedily devouring every ounce of your life.

Of course you were surprised to find yourself lying on the sheets of Paul's bed in his modest home, but that shock was the least of your worries. How were you still alive?

He told his tale as your body mended itself. You didn't know how much time passed. All you knew is that you were enraptured with the sticky sense of dread that was growing in your stomach as he spoke.

You were acutely aware of just how much it sounded like a sermon. How, whether he was aware of it or not, he was pulling out every stop in the preacher's handbook to try and convince you. And if he didn’t sound so convinced himself, you would swear this was deliberate manipulation. But nothing else could possibly explain his youthful appearance and all that he knew. He could recite your history right back to you despite the fact that you’d never once trusted him nearly enough to give it. Only the monsignor knew your deepest fears and your darkest secrets. But this wasn’t your monsignor.

Father Paul was some new beast; an amalgamation of the sweet old man you’d once known, the deceptive preacher who took his place, and some other supernatural force that you couldn’t quite name.

Though you’d only caught half a glimpse of the creature, you attempted to express your terror. That only spurred him on further as he contended that when an angel of the Lord appeared to the shepherds upon the birth of Jesus, it deliberately told them to not be afraid.

But none of that explained himself. None of it allowed you to comprehend how Monsignor Pruitt could've shed decades of life; how the old man could now stand there, blood drying on the bottom half of his face, and look at you as if you were something he could have.

You didn't have to ask. You knew by then that when the creature had had its fill of your blood, Father Paul had pulled the scraps of you away for himself. The thought hit you dangerously and made something deep inside you rumble. Like a natural disaster, this had unearthed a litany of complications that you never could’ve anticipated.

“We are at a crossroads," Father Paul said gently before letting his conviction surge again, “Now, you once said that finding God was reserved for those experiencing tragedy, correct?”

You nodded sagely. 

Father Paul grasped your trembling hands in his own, “Have you not experienced one of life’s greatest tragedies? The ending of it? You fell right over the edge of life and before the waters of death could claim you, He brought you back. Hebrought us together.”

You shook your head in defiance.

“This was meant to happen. This was part of His plan, for our faiths — our lives — to be renewed.”

With your throat still stiff and dry, you croaked angrily, “There was nothing wrong with my life! There was nothing that needed to supposedly be renewed!” 

He raised his voice suddenly, “Why did you come to this island?”

“Because my father died.”

“A father who was no better than a stranger to you,” he recalled your own words quickly. If the monsignor had been wise, Father Paul was as sharp as a knife, taking his jabs at you with complete accuracy. “You didn’t have to come here. You didn't have to make friends with a crazy old man. By the grace of God, you were led here. You were led here so you could be shown this truth; this gift. And you are denying this gift."

You had to admit that your draw to Crockett had been strange. At first you'd attested it to some childhood curiosity. But you'd deliberately put off taking care of your father's run down property, instead opting to spend time walking in the light of Pruitt. In truth, his companionship had been a breath of fresh air. 

Though the people of Crockett adored him, it was always tinged with pity. You'd never pitied him; only admired him for his wisdom and his resilience. 

Paul's expression softened as he held your face in his hands. "Everything I've done...every atrocity, it's been for you." That was when you saw the edges of his wisdom begin to lift and fall away like a second skin he'd crafted over his own vulnerability.

Underneath it...he was simply a man. A man who wanted to save you. 

“Let me give you more. Let me show you how you can trust me," he whispered.

The first kiss inspired an odd mix of emotions in your chest. There was the coppery tang of dried blood on your tongue, strong enough that it took everything in you not to flinch away from his hold on you. But you remembered his reference to the angel and the shepherds.

Do not be afraid.

So you continued, deepening the kiss with a turn of your head. And for all of the worldly experiences Paul had, you became acutely aware that this sort of connection was not among them.

Whether there'd been any true romantic feelings for the aging monsignor, you couldn't quite say. But your fondness of him had transferred to the man before you. Granted, the transfer wasn't smooth, but it was there nonetheless. Somehow it was stronger than ever as he took your hand and brought it to his lips. The kiss he pressed against your palm was slightly tacky with your own half dried blood still lingering.

You brushed a lock of his wavy, dark hair back so you could properly meet his gaze. With the shroud of time having fallen away from his features you could see just how handsome the man was. It was a hesitant sort of attractiveness; as if the banner of God had prevented him from seeing his full potential.

He'd fed on your life and made himself new. And the thought of your monsignor living on in that small way...all because of you? The electric twinges that sparked in your chest were almost too much to bear.

Without fear you devoured him in another kiss. Quickly the mood turned from reverent to ravenous as Paul attempted to keep up with your fervency.

He couldn't remember the last time sin had overpowered his sense of morality. Because he knew in the traditional sense, this was pure sin. No matter how wrong he believed it might have been to let his hands roam your figure, in his bones it was a temptation that finally felt correct. There was none of that hesitance or shame or fear that he'd felt before. The pendulum had shifted on morality and he knew exactly what he needed to do.

Hardly a moment was spared as he tore into the long skirt and the underwear that had kept you modest for far too long. Perfect beauty like this had to be cherished.

So that is what he did. Planted firmly between your legs, he stared up at you with eyes that gently pleaded for permission; for salvation. With your own half lidded eyes, you nodded before spreading yourself open for him.

Like a flower, you bloomed beautifully and Paul groaned at the sight. He could practically feel the thrumming pulse before him as it waited to indulge him. His hot breath teased you and made sparks dance right beneath the surface of your skin. Still you stayed in place, patiently allowing him time to drink in the sight of your folds already puffing and glistening with slick.

Quietly, you heard him mumble something that you only caught the tail end of.

“–forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.”

It wasn't too long after that when his tongue found a home in that tight, warm crevice. Your hand knitted itself into his dark hair as you searched for something to ground yourself from the overpowering sensation. Something about this new condition of yours heightened every aspect of pleasure.

If you were in your right mind, it would make sense logically considering you'd felt the unbearable pain of your spine shattering and being put back together again. But this was overwhelming in the entirely opposite direction.

You experienced the pleasure on a cellular level as your climax rushed through your limbs. You seemed to feel the vibrancy of every emotion and atom that comprised your being. Nothing was spared from the glory of this blessing. Not your spasming cunt as it contracted around Paul's blessed tongue. Not your heart that was firmly on the track of restoration. And not your mind as it all at once fell apart in time with your quivering thighs. Blood pulsing, every single one of your pores felt more alive than ever as you finally embraced the higher power that had been waiting for you in the shadows all along.

At that moment, you believed it all. From the Angel to Father Paul's divine transformation to the euphoric paradise that enveloped your entire being...it was all real. And most of all, it was all yours. Thanks to the father's grace and generosity, you would create paradise with him. And that seemed possible. After all, with his head between your thighs, you’d both already created one.

[uhbasicallyjustmilex]

💌 to the readers of four walls: just a quick note to let you know that the next chapter is on it's way! i'm so sorry it's been this long of a wait since the last one. i've honestly been struggling massively with my writing over the last couple of months due to mental health stuff and also having covid again, and it's taken me a bit of time to get back on my feet with things. i'm still feeling a little fragile, but things are finally moving in the right direction - and, all things going to plan, chapter eleven should be posted in the next couple weeks. thank you so, so much to everyone who's left comments/kudos/messaged me about this fic over the last year. without your support and enthusiasm i'm pretty sure i'd have given up on it, and i'm eternally grateful that isn't the case and i still get to write something that is honestly one of my favourite stories i've ever told. thank you for keeping me going 💌

[amethystunarmed]

I Need a Shovel to Love Him

Word Count: 4,226 A03 Link Richie calls Peter after the events of the opening night of Workin' Girls.

~~~

Holy fucking shit.

Peter is about to lose his virginity to Stephanie Lauter. 

They are on the couch in Peter's brother's apartment. Ted is gone for the evening, went to Ruth’s musical at the Starlight, but he had thrown a condom at Peter with a wink before he left. Peter was equal parts mortified and grateful.

By pure luck, Peter and Steph had managed to avoid getting tickets the same night Ted was going, giving them an opportunity to finally go all the way. They are making out on the couch, Steph straddling him while he gazes up at her in awe. Neither of them are wearing their shirts (Peter has come a long way from the first time he saw Steph in her bra and got so flustered he had to stop. He's just lucky she thought it was both hilarious and adorable). Her skin is hot against his, and when she trails her fingers down his spine, it gives him chills. Steph has finally taken pity on Peter, and moved to take her bra off herself, when the phone rings.

Pete sits up to grab it and Steph groans, flopping forward so her head rests on his chest. 

"Are you serious Spankoffski? You're answering your fucking phone right now?"

"I figure if it's my brother telling us he's on his way back because he finally realized the show isn't about sex workers, we'd want to know."

"... You get a pass just this once." She slides off his lap and Peter immediately misses her weight.

Peter fumbles for his phone and is surprised by the name that pops up.

The Power of God and Anime. Richie. 

Peter frowns down at his phone. Richie would rather die than make a phone call. For all Ruth loved talking to telemarketers, Richie about broke out in hives every time he had to make a call. (Between his phobia and Ruth's penchant for making the delivery boy uncomfortable, Peter had been making calls to Pizza Hut for them for years.) Richie wouldn't call. Not unless...

Peter hits the button and brings the phone to his ear, even as Stephanie groans behind him. He slides his legs off the couch and stands as he talks.

"Hey Richie, what's up? Aren't you at the show?"

Sobbing. Richie is sobbing. Peter's stomach sinks. "Richie? Richie, what's happening?"

"Pete?" Steph asks, suddenly concerned. Peter holds a finger up to her.

Richie hiccups. His voice is shaky, so much that Pete can barely understand him. 

"He- he- He went crazy, he killed them-" 

Peter feels like he's had ice water dumped over him.

"Who? Who killed who, Richie?" Peter gets up and grabs his shirt from where he'd thrown it earlier.

"Everyone, he- he-"

"Where are you?"

"The Theater."

Oh thank God.

"Richie, my brother is there, go find Ted, okay?" Ted was a fucking asshole but he would (probably) look out for Ruth and Richie, if only so Pete didn't tear him a new one. "He'll get you and Ruth out of there okay?"

"That's what I'm trying to tell you," Richie says, sniffling, voice hitching. "Ruth and Ted are dead, Peter."

Peter drops his phone. 

He doesn't remember what happens next. He blinks and they're in the back of Mayor Lauter’s limo. Steph is holding Peter's now cracked phone to her ear. Miss Tessburger is prattling on about something but Pete can't understand her. Her words sound like a broken garbage disposal, continually revving but never getting any clearer.

He blinks again and Steph is kneeling in front of him. She sways as they take a sharp turn. She should be wearing a seatbelt, he thinks, inanely.

"Pete, you're scaring me."

Peter doesn't know why. He hasn't even done anything. 

He blinks and they're at the theater. Steph's hand is firm in his, the only thing that keeps him from drifting away. He trails behind her, letting her guide him to the sirens and the flashing lights. Until he sees-

Richie.

Peter loses time again. Suddenly he is sprinting, and Richie is too and Peter slams into him and they fall to the ground and Peter has his fingernails clawed tightly into Richie's vest so nothing can pry Richie away from him and-

He is sitting in the back of the ambulance. A scratchy orange blanket is wrapped around his shoulders. Richie is next to him. He has Peter's hand in a death grip, squeezing so tight Peter is beginning to lose feeling in his fingers.

An EMT is shining a light in his penlight in Peter’s eyes. It fucking hurts. Peter blinks aggressively at him.

“His pupils dilate, I don’t see any sign of concussion. As far as I can tell, Peter here is just suffering from a pretty extreme shock.”

He gives Peter a pitying little smile. Peter wants to knock his teeth out.

“But he’s not responding.” Stephanie is standing off the shoulder of the EMT. She has her arms crossed over her chest, her chin cocked out. It’s the same stance she’d had when she’d stood down Max Jagerman after they first started dating. It means she’s scared. “You can see it, he did it in the car too. Why the fuck can’t he hear us?”

The EMT hesitates a moment, then speaks slowly, like an adult on Sesame Street.

“Sometimes, when someone goes through something terrible, their brain will... take them away for a little. It’s a defense mechanism.”

Peter has already heard enough of this. 

“You don’t have to talk about me like I’m not here.”

“Oh, thank god.” The tension melts out of Steph as she throws herself at Peter’s free side. Her arms wrap around his shoulder and she tucks her head into his neck, like she is trying to get as close to him as possible. “You’re okay. Jesus Pete, never scare me like that again.”

"Pete?" Steph and Peter pull away from each other to look at a Black man in a checkered shirt. He nervously fiddles with a button on the cuff of his sleeve. Peter hadn’t initially noticed him, but he’s pretty sure the man had been standing there for a while. He seemed vaguely familiar, but Peter couldn’t place him. "You're Peter Spankoffski, right?"

Steph pushes over the ambulance, and stands in between him and Peter and Richie. "Listen, if you want a statement, go talk to some other smarmy asshole looking to get famous off this. Try Linda Monroe, she has an affinity for vultures." She is so fucking cool, so brave. Peter thinks he may be in love with her.

Oh my god he's in love with her.

He's in love with Stephanie Lauter.

He wants to tell Ruth, even though she'll ask a million uncomfortable questions. 

He wants to tell Ted, even though he'd give some awful advice about not being tied down.

Peter squeezes Richie’s hand.

"No, no," the man says. "I'm one of Ted's co-workers? Bill. Do you remember me?” The name slots into place. Peter remembers him in the backgrounds of office party pictures Ted had shown him and from when Ted brought Peter to a “Bring Your Kid to Work Day” even before he moved in with Ted full time. He has a recollection of Bill smiling at him from where he had hidden behind Ted, telling him, Richie, and Alice Woodward to all play nice together. Peter gives him a faint nod, which puts Bill somewhat at ease.

“Look at you, all grown up. So tall!” He is studying Peter with a sad sort of softness, cataloging all the changes from that little kid he’d met years ago. Peter wants to find the nearest bridge he can jump off of to avoid this conversation. “I wouldn’t have recognized you if Ted hadn’t had a picture on his desk." 

Peter wonders if he spontaneously developed a latex allergy, it feels like his throat is swelling shut. “He... He has a picture of me on his desk?” 

"Yes, he does.” Peter waits for him to elaborate, but Bill just offers him an awkward little half smile. Which, what the fuck? Did he just come over to here to remind Peter he was going to have to go to his brother’s fucking office and clean out his desk?

“Bill, I don’t want to be rude, but... why are you here?”

“Oh.” Bill furrows his brow at that, like he isn’t actually sure. “We came here together. Ted and I."

Peter squints at him. "Like a date?" He knew Ted had been sleeping around the office (knew too much about it, because his brother was kind of a slut), but he'd been pretty sure he'd been hung up on someone named Charlotte.

"No!" Bill denies, "He- I had an extra ticket, and I- he was the only one who wanted to come." Bill suddenly looked nauseous. "H- he was the only one who wanted to come tonight, and to spend time with me, and the whole night I just-"

"So you're the reason my brother is dead." The whole group snaps their heads to stare at him, even the EMT. He doesn’t know why they all look so surprised. It seems like a pretty logical deduction to make.

Steph wraps her arm around Peter’s shoulder, but she stays standing. He feels small tucked against her side. It feels nice.

Richie gives his hand a squeeze and runs his finger along the side of Peter’s hand. It feels nice too.

Bill sucks in a breath, like somebody stabbed him. Which is fucking hilarious, given the circumstances. He looks at Peter like Peter did something to hurt him. It does not feel nice.

“What? Don’t have anything to say about it? You just said it, you were the reason he was here.” The EMT winces, and Peter glares at him. He wisely decides to fuck off to the front of the ambulance.

“Peter, that’s not- I’m didn’t-” Bill fumbles over himself. Peter isn’t sure what he fucking expected.

“I think you should go.”

“Right, right, but I just wanted to say, if you need anything, you can-” He fumbles with his back pocket and pulls out a wallet, nearly dropping it on the ground. Ted always says that Bill never knows when to drop a subject, and so far, Peter isn’t seeing anything to disapprove this fact. 

“Here,” Bill says, as he holds a white card out to Peter. “My number’s on there, you can give me a call-"

And Peter just wants him to shut the fuck up.

"I said fucking GO!"

Bill jumps and drops his business card. Peter feels bad, but he's too fucking tired to apologize. He slumps against Steph's shoulder. Her breathing feels like a gravitational pull, and he doesn't think he could escape it if he tried.

Bill scurries off, and Peter is grateful. “Fuck,” he groans, hiding his face in the crown of Stephanie’s head. She smells like sweat and that fruity shampoo her dad won’t stop buying for her. “Ted was right, he’s a fucking busybody.” It tears through his chest, even saying his brother’s name. He thinks the only thing that could hurt worse would have been not saying it.

It grows quiet. At least, as quiet as the site of a disaster can be. If he listens carefully, he can hear Chief Sweetly crying about one of the actors or Officer Bailey debating with Grace Chasity over who gets to keep his gun. (He's pretty sure Grace is winning.) The noises of the parking lot combine into a low background, police interrogations and muffled sobbing weaving into a dull drone. The police have turned their sirens off, but the lights still flicker red and blue and white. Peter closes his eyes, and the solid colors flicker across the black of his eyelids. The repetition is soothing, smoothing over the anxious hum that has been blaring a klaxon in the back of his brain. Between the warm pillar of Steph in front of him and Richie’s solid weight across his back, Peter finds his eyes drifting shut.

Richie’s shoulders hitching, however, gets him wide awake in an instant. Peter sits up, away from Steph, and pulls Richie closer to him, so he is angled toward Peter. Silent tears flood Richie’s cheeks. His mouth is screwed up in a crooked line.

“What happened?” Peter asks, frantically looking Richie over. He seemed fine when they arrived, but Peter had just been happy he was breathing, he could have missed something important-

"It's my fault Ruth is dead," Richie weeps.

"What?"

"I killed her, Peter. I killed Ruth." Tears stream down Richie's cheeks.

"I thought you said-"

"I told her to audition! She wasn't going too, she said she wouldn't get in. I'm the one... I'm the reason."

Oh fuck.

"Richie..."

Richie just sobs and latches onto his shoulder. Peter can feel time slipping again and he digs his nails into his palm to stay present.

"Richie, it's not your fault."

"I'm the reason she was here."

The sick feeling in Peter's gut twists deeper. That isn't what he... Fuck. What does he say? What does he say?

Steph sees his hesitation and gets a wild look in her eyes. Her hand flutters to the back of Peter’s neck. Her fingernails graze the skin in a repetitive line, like she is trying to beckon him back. He wonders if she thinks he lost time again. If so, she doesn’t say. She focuses all her attention on Richie. "It's not your fault, okay? You blame the murderer, you blame the theater for hiring this whackjob, you blame God for all I care, but you don't blame yourself for that shit, okay? That's how you drive yourself crazy, and Ruth wouldn't want that, you torturing yourself for believing in her. Okay?" She reaches across Peter and takes Richie's free hand. "Promise me."

"Promise you?"

"You won't blame yourself. Promise me."

"I'll... I'll try.”Steph opens her mouth, most likely to argue, but she is interrupted. From the side of the ambulance, the EMT clears his throat, far too loudly, and rounds the corner.

Steph glares at him, but only says, "We'll work on it.” Richie nods, and  Peter is positive he is counting on her forgetting about it. 

With the EMT back, their closeness starts to itch. Peter can feel him searching them, trying to figure out just what they mean to each other. Peter is pretty sure a vivisection would feel less intrusive.

The three of them untangle from one other. Steph habitually tucks her hair behind her ears, straightening to perfect posture. Even at the scene of a disaster, she maintains her image. Not that Peter blames her. He is sure Dan and Donna will have all sorts of footage from tonight all over the news tomorrow. As a local celebrity, Stephanie will probably get a featured segment. The thought makes him feel nauseous. "Everything seems to be in order!" The EMT says brightly. "I don't think you two need to go to the hospital. Do you three have someone who can take you home?"

"My uncle is coming to get me," Peter lets him know. He looks toward Stephanie and Peter. “He can probably get the two of you too!”

Stephanie's frown deepens. It has been such a common expression for her tonight, Peter feels bad. He has etched so much grief into her face. "But Peter-"

"I'm fine, Steph."

"No you're fucking not. You keep fucking... Leaving."

"I've been here the whole time."

"But you haven't. The lights are on but nobody is home. It's... It's fucking terrifying, Pete."

Oh.

Pete turns to Richie, who nods. His palm is slick with sweat against Peter's. He looks freaked out, even considering everything that has happened tonight, which Peter again feels bad about. He is letting everyone down today. Still... There is one person he can't fail. He can't.

Peter looks up at the EMT.

“Where is my brother?” 

Richie swallows nervously. Peter feels his Adam's apple bob against his shoulder. "Pete...” He says slowly, like Peter just asked if he could move to Clivesdale. “He's d-"

"I fucking got that." He doesn't need a reminder. "Where... Where did they take him. After."

The EMT presses his lips together. “You should let your parents handle that, sweetie-”

“Then it’ll never get done. Where is he?”

“Everyone who was... who had passed before we arrived was taken to the hospital morgue.” 

“Huh.” Images of Ted, pale and expressionless on a silver slab flash through his head. So many nurses were going to see Ted naked. He would have been ecstatic. 

Then Peter is laughing. He is laughing so hard he can’t breathe. Stephanie and Richie are saying something, and they sound almost frantic and someone is shaking his shoulder but it’s so fucking funny Peter can’t stop. Tears stream down his cheeks as he cackles. And at some point his laughs have turned to sobs. They shake his whole body, and he thinks he might be screaming. He falls into Richie, and Richie is sobbing too. He wraps his arms around Peter, and hugs him tight to his chest. Peter can feel wet spots on Richie’s shirt where he is soaking him with tears and snot, but Richie only holds him tighter.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Pete,” he murmurs over and over into Peter’s hair. A warm weight drapes over Pete’s back, and  Stephanie reaches up to pet through Peter’s hair. 

“Let it out baby, let it out.” Her voice is wet.

Peter isn’t sure how long they sit there, crying. Long enough, that Peter runs out of tears, and he just sniffles through shaky breaths, feeling like a wrung out dish towel.

“What am I going to do?”

“What do you mean?” 

“Where... Where am I going to stay?” His parents were out of the question. Peter wouldn’t go back, even if they wouldn’t just slam the door in his face. Without Ted to pay rent on the apartment... “I’m homeless. Fuck.”

“You can stay with me!” Stephanie assures him. 

“Your dad is going to be okay with that?” 

“Are you kidding? He’ll love it. Taking you in right before the election? He’ll look like a hero.” She scoffs. “He’ll probably claim it was his idea.”

A car pulls into the parking lot, a beat up red Toyota probably older than Peter is himself. The bumper is more rust than metal. At the wheel is the mean barista from Beanie's. She is wearing an expression that Peter has never seen on her before, blatant concern weighing her face. Out of the car, comes Richie’s uncle Paul. He is still in his suit, like he was relaxing at home in a starched shirt and tie. Considering everything he knows about Paul, that probably was the case.

“Richie!” He yells, louder than Peter imagined he could be, “Richie!” His head frantically turns back and forth as he scans the crowds.

“Over here!” Richie yells, standing and waving his and Peter’s conjoined hands. He has backed up, so the lines of their legs are still pressed together.

Paul’s entire body decompresses when he sees Richie, like he is sighing with his entire body. He staggers against the hood of the car, briefly studying himself with his hands, before pushing past it. He cuts the corner too fast, slams his thigh into the headlight, but he doesn't even seem to notice the impact. He speedwalks over to the back of the ambulance, running up to his nephew to take Richie's face into his hands. “Richie,” he gasps, like holding him is the first breath of oxygen he has gotten all night. Something about it makes Peter's already sore eyes sting, and he has to swallow a lump in his throat.

Richie looks up at Paul with a brittle smile. “Hi Uncle Paul. Thank you for coming.” He says it like Paul has picked him up early from a sleepover. Paul doesn't even answer. He just opens his mouth and then closes it, once, twice, then a third time. Then he pulls Richie forward, unflinchingly, into his chest. His shoulders shake.

“Jeez, Uncle Paul!” Richie shrieks, “You're crushing me.” He doesn't fight the hold though, merely wraps his free arm around Paul and squeezes. The hand still holding Peter’s trembles.

The mean barista jogs up to them, finally catching up from where Paul had run off without her. Peter remembers Richie mentioning she and Paul were dating, but Peter hadn't realized they were “Drive me to get my nephew from the scene of a mass murder” serious. Good for Paul.

"Hey kid. How are you holding up?"

Richie sniffs. "Sorry, Emma. I know you were excited to have dinner with Tom and Tim."

"Kid, you don't have to apologize for... For any of it. I'm just glad you're okay." She places her hand on Paul's shoulder. “Babe, you're going to suffocate him.”

“Right, right,” Paul says, distantly. He lets Richie lean away, hands slowly falling, like he is ready to reach out and grab him again at any moment. He glances over, paling at the sight of Peter and Stephanie. He clears his throat as he processes their presence. “Hello Peter. Stephanie.” He says Stephanie's name slowly, like midway through saying it, he realized he wasn’t actually sure he was right. 

She graciously doesn't mention it. “Hey, Mr. Matthews.” Paul frowns, like he always has the few times she's joined them for a study session, but for once doesn't argue. Instead, he turns to Peter.

“Richie mentioned that Ted... Is... Is he, um-”

Peter doesn't have the patience for this. “Ted's dead, yeah.”

Paul gets that same stricken look Bill had, and maybe Peter should be nicer, but to be honest, he just wants people to stop looking at him. Even the fucking barista, who Peter is 99% sure has spit in his hot chocolate, is looking at him like he's a walking tragedy and Peter can hardly stand the writhing weight of their pity.

“Okay... Okay, okay,” Paul repeats, slowly, taking a deep breath. "I'm... I'm sorry for your loss. Ted and I weren't close but... I know he really, really loved you."

It's so impersonal, so distant. It’s a stranger’s eulogy.

It's exactly what Peter expects from Paul. Their mismatched relationship used to be something Peter, Ruth, and Richie laughed at Ted recalling his "best friend Paul" while Paul clearly only tolerated Ted, at best. Ruth had once called it a "tragic, one-sided bromance" and Peter had laughed so hard, milk shot out his nose. But Ruth isn't here. And Ted isn't here. And Paul doesn't like Peter's brother. And Peter can't help but say it.

"Ted called you his best friend." From the way Paul's eyes widen, this is news to him.

"Oh. I... I didn't know he, um, felt that way. I kind of thought he didn't like me."

"Being mean is how Ted shows affection. He learned it from our parents."

"Jesus fucking Christ, Pete," Steph exhales, like the words pain her. She nuzzles closer to his shoulder.

"Speaking of parents,” Paul says, in that frantic way he does when he is trying to change the subject, “are they coming to pick you up?"

"Fuck, I hope not." Peter says, before he can stop himself. He groans. Fuck his filter tonight, apparently he’ll just say anything. Stephanie, Paul, and Emma are looking at him with barely masked concern.

“Peter can stay over, right?” Richie asks, nervously. He still hasn't let go of Peter. Peter can't imagine asking him too.

“Of course,” Paul says and nods toward Peter. Then he looks at Stephanie. “Are you... Are you coming as well?”

“I...” Steph looks between them. “I’m not-” It is the most at-a-loss Pete has ever seen her. “I wouldn’t want to... You guys were... Ruth and I, we weren’t... We only hung out a few times, and... I shouldn’t.” It’s Richie who reaches out and grabs her hand.

“Please, come with us. For Pete, and... for me?” Somehow, tears begin to drip down Richie’s face. (Peter is distantly impressed. He thinks that if he cried anymore, he would crumble into dust.) “You’re our friend, Steph. You are Ruth’s friend too.” He chuckles, and chokes on it. “She was so excited to have a friend who was a girl, you had no idea.”

Steph sniffles a bit. “She was my first girl friend too. At least, the first one who was actually nice to me.”

“Steph...” Paul says. Peter didn’t realize it at first, but his eyes are red. “Even if you think you weren’t as close-” Paul’s voice cracks, “-as you should have been, you get to be sad too, okay?”

“Paul...” Emma says, a twinge of genuine grief in her tone, but Peter can’t bring himself to care about whatever the fuck they are talking about, because Steph is looking between him and Richie like she is waiting for them to say something. Words are fucking impossible but to be honest, Peter doesn’t want to talk anyways. He holds his arms out and Stephanie falls into them. And Peter was wrong, because as Steph silently cries into his shoulder and Richie worms his ways into the hug, shoulders heaving, Peter finds he has more tears left to shed after all.

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 11 (Family Dinner with the Landgraabs)

Heather left work early the day of the party but still got stuck in traffic on the Simmerloop Superhighway. Showing up almost an hour late really didn’t impress Nancy. It was a small, family-only gathering, and everything about it made Heather anxious.

"You finally made it. Wonderful!" Nancy crowed. "I thought the food would get cold."

Heather apologized for the traffic and let Malcolm show her around the three-story penthouse. Their in-ground pool took up an entire floor, and the difference between Heather and Malcolm's worlds was as stark as their sleek, modern furniture.

"Heather, have you met my brother, Johnny Zest? He does stand-up comedy, apparently. But his career choice is a better joke than any of his on-stage bits," said Nancy, introducing Heather to a scowling blond who showed up with a gorgeous woman on his arm. "And this is..."

"This is Eva, Nancy." Johnny growled in frustration. "She was Eva the last time you met her, too."

"Oh, all your girls look alike." Nancy waved a flippant hand as she led everyone to the dining room.

"Eva's been the only girl for over a year," he shot back. "You always do this!"

"Do what, John? Continue to bankroll your lifestyle with Eve, here?" Nancy glowered across the table as Johnny shoveled salad into his mouth to stay quiet. "Whatever happened to that comedy special you were telling us about over Easter?"

"The producer flaked," said Johnny with a mouthful of food. "Tried to pay me less than he promised so I walked."

"Sure you did."

"If I'd taken what they wanted to pay me, you'd have told me off for taking less than the job's worth! Do I have to be Malcolm to get the benefit of doubt from you?"

Heather watched quietly while Nancy ordered her family around, chastising Geoffrey and Malcolm for their posture while Johnny's Monte Vistan girlfriend, Eva Capricciosa, did her best to keep him calm in broken Simlish. They were far more interested in each other than the company, anyway.

Heather was stressed. She wasn't used to families arguing at dinner. Obviously, no one was a match for Nancy Landgraab – not even Malcolm, who was clearly her favourite person in the world. But his usual snobbery was quiet in her presence.

"So, Heather, I can't help but wonder: What made the daughter of an astrobotanist and the inventor of Nesbeets faux meat decide to become a veterinarian? It's such a limiting profession."

So that's where Malcolm got his snobbery over her chosen career. Heather cleared her throat. "We always had pets at home when I was growing up, and I've wanted to be a vet since I was a little girl. When they come bounding out of the exam room completely cured, I love seeing the joy it brings their humans, too."

"Vets are so important!" Eva cried. "We had a vet in Monte Vista who saved my duck-"

"I'm sure it's honourable to save the odd duck or two, but Brindleton Bay is such a backwoods town." Nancy rolled her eyes at sweet-natured Eva. "They don't even have a mayor!"

"No mayor you can buy off, you mean," Johnny sniffed.

Nancy shot her brother a disgusted look. "My son - the only Landgraab heir since Johnny's a disappointment who hates his own name - will never live in Brindleton Bay with all its feral strays. And Landgraabs aren't vets; they hold galas that make money they can donate to pet causes." Malcolm avoided eye contact with Heather while Nancy proselytized. "You'll have to sell if things get more serious with my son and move to San Myshuno. But don't worry about your clinic if the time comes - Landgraab Corp. can always find a buyer."

"Mom. Stop."

Malcolm's unexpected defense caught both Nancy and Heather off guard, but Heather was grateful. They’d never discussed marriage, and the last time he brought up leaving Brindleton Bay they fought in the street. But she’d owned the clinic for less than a year and had no interest in selling to anyone.

With Nancy's dinner party teetering on a knife's edge of tension, would they get through the night in peace? ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

NOTE: I know Johnny is supposed to be Geoffrey and Nancy's son in loose/controversial game canon, but I used MCCC to make him Nancy's brother, instead. My headcanon likes Malcolm as an only child and Nancy as a particularly nasty one-kid helicopter mom!

[respondedinkind]

Okay, okay, so... the new year isn't here yet, but 2023 is coming to an end very soon and I have planned to make a post - so here it is.

What this post is about? You!

I just want to be here and say thank you to everyone who has joined me here on my blog, even though I haven't been around for long. I am insanely grateful for each and every single one of you being here, for all the good memories you allowed me to make, and that so many of you welcomed me - and my muse - with open arms. I am so happy that you gave - and still give - me opportunities to explore my own writing and my muse's behaviors, and I just cannot stop saying it enough: THANK YOU!

I met some incredible people over the last months - some of which are people that I have RPed with before and where I was oh-so-excited to have them met again, after all these years of me having been separated from my Khan-muse because of fandom-changes, interest-changes, whatnot; For those of you who don't know, I first started to write Khan in 2012, BEFORE Star Trek into Darkness even aired, solely based on speculations and a teaser trailer lol. It wasn't very serious, but then definitely developed into what is my most-written muse after the movie finally came out and Khan just invaded my brain like some kind of parasite.

Since then, I have made a few blogs, kept writing Khan for a couple of years, then went on hiatus - remade, revamped, wrote for a few more years, disappeared... and now here I am again, with an AU-Version I was very, very scared to just put out here but now I am so, so glad I did. Thank you all for allowing me to write it, and yeah, I'm repeating myself, but... the opportunies I got and still get? So wonderful. Thank you so much for giving my Khan a chance.

Besides that, I also expanded my horizon a little and made two more blogs: One is on a little hiatus right now, while I am very active on the other thanks to some wonderful human beings who basically set my love for that character into flames. I hope that, and I mean that with the utmost sincerety, my choice of 'second and especially third muse' is not taken as a will to replace anything or anyone, but rather me being so immensely starstruck by other writers that have given me such a great insight and made me want to explore the depths as well.

Okay, okay, this is already insanely long and I am so sorry (I am unsure if anyone will ever read this lol), but now I want to give a shout out to ALL OF YOU, who are here, writing with me! All of you are so, so amazing and I am so glad to have met you, and I hope we can continue to write for as long as our muses and our creativity will let us. Thank you, again, and please take a look at those awesome people in case you aren't already following each other:

First of all, amazing writers and amazing people in general that I look up to (in no particular order), who are inspiring me in so many ways, make me feel a bit like a teenager gazing at their favorite star (lol) and just... are great people, yes, that I just want to mention separately for varying reasons:

@ssolessurvivor (Friend! Omg! When you first followed me, I could never imagine how things would ever develop - and how well Logan would fit to Khan, how their story developed into what it is now, so deeply plotted and filled with so many sub-stories and little moments that push both our muses along, allow me to explore my Khan on so many levels... it's insane how attached he is to your Logan, and I am so, so happy about us being in so much contact and just keep plotting and talk about everything! You are such a friendly mun and I am so, so grateful that you indulge me, even over on Stephen (hehe). I hope we can keep writing for a long time; Thank you so much for letting me throw in all my ideas about Khan, all the quirky things about him, I am so, so grateful!!! ♥)

@darehearts (I felt insanely welcomed by you, giving my Khan *and* my Bones such a chance to interact with Kirk ♥ Thank you so much for that, and thank you so much for indulding in my Khan-joins-the-crew idea as a Kirk-writer. That's definitely not something you need to do and yet you allow me. Ahhh! I was so blown away when you asked me if I wanted to become mains sdfasadfasd. Still am honestly because I am just a potato haha. Thank you for being here and being such a kind person ♥)

@strxngetimes (seriously, I was so nervous approaching you first but I am so glad I did; I do look up to you like you're some kind of superstar (haha) and I am still amazed that you gave me the chance of exploring things the way we do. Thank you for indulging me AND enduring me (and my muse lol), and you really, really inspire me in so many ways when it comes to your Stephen, it's amazing. You actually caused my interest for him to go back up into flames and for me to join the MCU fandom lol (and I would also bother you on your tony BUT i am SO UNWORTHY hahaha). Thank you - I hope we can keep writing for a while longer ♥ And I look forward to everything that might further develop between Khan and Stephen. Very much <3 Love them a lot!)

@mehrere-musen (Ok but really, of course I have to mention you. The way you accepted me, the way we started to write and things just??? Happened??? I love interacting with you and your Stephen and I love the way he works with Khan too, and I am so happy that you allowed me to be with the two where they are. Our thread has almost 800 notes by now which is insane, and with how we keep having ideas, it might go further than that lol. Thank you so much for indulging me - and thank you to Stephen to make Khan so insanely happy. :) ! I hope we can continue to write for a long time! ♥)

@fasciinating (SPAWK! I know we don't do a lot of OOC chatting in any way but our thread??? You are so good for just throwing us into that mess and for you to be like 'lmao ok here let Khan do whatever' and where are Spock and Khan now??? A NIGHTMARE LOL. I love the creativity and how you maneuvered us into that mess of a situation and how we can just seriously fuck moments up and go 'ah yeah somehow there's a rabbit also the world explodes'. I also love the way you write Spock! Thank you so much for giving my Khan a chance, despite his 'AU-ness', and that I get to explore such an interesting storyline! I was also very happy to have found you again, because I remember you from a long time ago (even though we didn't write much back then I think? But I remembered your name!)).

@sxbaist (MY BELOVED! God, you have no idea how insanely happy I was when I realized you were still there. Vega has stolen Khan's heart back when we first wrote so many years ago and when I rebooted him with his AU Version, my heart almost stopped when I saw you were still active and around. I was so, so nervous to approach you - but you welcomed me back, so did Vega welcome back my Khan, and honestly... I love them so, so much, and I adore you so much as a person. Thank you for doing all of that, for allowing me back, for Khan to have his wonderful woman back and for them to enjoy each other. It feels like as if they never got separated at all and I cannot express my gratitude enough, really. You as a person are so awesome as well and I will forever wait for your return! You are also the only other Khan I write with, so I will mention your @paramounticebound here too because your Khan is insanely great and I look up to him so, so much, people need to know!!!)

@vuulpecula (OK but listen, I know we also don't do much OOC chatting at all BUT!!! I just have to mention you here too because the things we do are just so??? SO??? HNNG like lmao we just write each other like 'ok what should happen' AND THEN DOOM HAPPENS to either Khan / Fox and Stephen / Fox LOL as if we got no chill really! I enjoy it a lot to explore those plots and see where things will go! Also you are such a kind person and so easy to talk to!!! Thank you for also indulging me on Stephen hehe ♥ and also all the things on Khan ofc!)

If I could, I would write every single one of you such a text, but alas... if I were to, I wouldn't be finished in 2025 (lol), so I hope you take my gratitude and my love for you as a combined package as well; You are all wonderful people and I am so glad to have you here, and it has been a joy - I hope it will continue to be a joy in the future too, and I cannot wait to see how things will develop (once again, in no particular order):

@whydotheykeeptakingmine ♥ @noblehcart ♥ @resignedworkaholics ♥ (also over on Stephen) @he1msman | @spacesk1pper | @entrpz ♥ (also on Bones) @ensnchekov | @cosmiicheskaya ♥ (also on Bones) @vulku ♥ @onlybonesleft ♥ @wtsns | @agntross ♥ (also over on Stephen) @goodheartedfool ♥ @oceansfirst ♥ (also over on Stephen) @kingofthewebxxx ♥ (also over on Stephen) @fallenregent ♥ @danversiism ♥ @nursc ♥ (also over at Bones) @nightmdic ♥ @brooklynislandgirl ♥ @defectivexfragmented ♥ (also over on Stephen) @haiiling ♥ @gcldenratio ♥ @hiippocrates ♥ @tangleweave ♥ (In case I have forgotten someone: I am so, so, so, so, sorry!!!!)

Also, last but not least: Should you not be named on this list, this does not mean I am not grateful for you or don't appreciate you! I thank you for being here, especially if we have already written something... and even if you follow me and I do not follow back, I am still immensely grateful that you're here in the first place, even if you might not stay ♥.

Thank you so much for every single one of you, really - everyone I mentioned here, everyone I did not. Because of YOU my experience on this (and my two other blogs) is what it is. Without you I wouldn't be where I am now, I wouldn't be able to explore my Khan, my Bones, my Stephen, and I wouldn't be able to have such a good time.

I WISH YOU ALL THE BEST FOR 2024 - MAY GOOD LUCK, LOTS OF LOVE, HAPPINESS AND FORTUNE COME YOUR WAY! No matter where you are, or what your plans are... you are valid, you deserve to be here, you deserve to do what you want to do and you deserve all the good things coming for you.

THANK YOU.

L. finally over and out. (and if you read up this far, you'll get a cookie from me!)

[ratinayellowbandana]

Prompt: “I feel terrible.” And/or “I want you to kiss me right now.”

I love your fics 🥹 just yesterday I was thinking of your name while perusing ao3 and was wishing for another Imodna fic of yours

hi!! thank you so much for your kind words. it always shocks me when people, like, want to read my writing? so it really means a lot. i'm sorry this took me a little longer. i ended up combining your first one with another prompt and part of my wip so when i eventually publish a fic with an extremely similar scene from imogen's perspective.. dw about it.

anyway, here's some post-resurrection hurt/comfort. we're gonna all pretend they stayed in the castle for a couple days and sorted their shit out.

cw for feelings of helplessness and self-loathing

length: ~1.7k

some prompt lists if you're so inclined || my ao3

~~~

It’s been three days since they got her back. 

Three days since she woke on the worn wooden floors of Pike’s home to a small crowd of friends and strangers. 

Three days since she set foot in Whitestone again, a place she never hoped to return. 

And three days since everyone began treating Laudna as if she's going to shatter. 

The worst part is she feels as if she might. 

The world is too vibrant. Loud. The birds chirping outside the too-large castle window grate on her ears. The silky sheets on the too-soft four-poster bed cling to her in all the wrong ways. Her skin crawls and her bones grind and she can feel her teeth. 

The gnome who revived her said this is normal. She’d been dead, after all. The body would need time to recalibrate. Time they do not have if they want to have any hope of intervening on the solstice. 

Imogen dotes the best way she knows how. With soup and kind words and glares that warn the others to keep back if they don’t want a zap to the forehead. She offers furs from the trunk at the foot of the bed and cool cloths that do little to ease the ache of Laudna’s fragile joints. She brings pillows and keeps watch in the window seat as Laudna sleeps. 

It’s sickeningly sweet and thoughtful and lovely, and Laudna hates it just a little bit because Imogen has spent far too much time fretting over Laudna as of late when she should be anywhere but a stuffy old castle spooning broth to a dead lady whose hands won’t stop shaking. 

Laudna is fine. 

She’s fine. 

She is. 

Delilah is gone, they assure her. Imogen herself sent a bolt of lightning through the bitch’s strange conjured tree trunk in the twisting nether realm that left the smell of iron and marrow lingering in Laudna’s nose. Her limbs still sting with phantom wounds where she had thrashed against Delilah’s cage. 

Helpless. Weak. 

The others were there, too. At least, for much of the fight and everything that preceded. They had seen Laudna’s memories, as Fresh Cut Grass informed her. Learned the name she had taken care to hide all these years. Buried deep enough, even Imogen, brilliant as she is, would have to dig to uncover it. Delilah, it seemed, only cared for secrets when they were hers to keep. 

When her friends visit her chambers, their vivacity is dulled. They are tense, anxious, and trying and failing to hide the restlessness that they are all feeling. 

Orym regards her with new wariness, searching for lies and cracks, though he is kind as ever. It’s understandable, Laudna reasons. In this place, where the Briarwood reign harmed innumerable lives, she is a liability. A threat to be guarded against.

Fearne is delicate with her hugs, moves cautiously through Laudna’s space. She hasn’t even stolen any of the silver soup spoons or fine teacups, which might be most concerning of all. 

Ashton hovers in the doorway. They return her awkward waves with a nod and flick of their wrist. 

Chetney and Fresh Cut Grass seem the most unbothered. Chetney in a plush bathrobe that appears to have been hastily cropped to suit his stature, and F.C.G. chattering on about the importance of rest to the healing process. 

And Laudna hates them just a little bit because she cares for them all so deeply, but mostly, she just hates herself. Hates Delilah. Hates Otohan Thull. 

They’re losing time and they’ve already lost so much. Imogen has already lost so much. Her mother’s trail is growing colder by the day, and there is nothing Laudna can do but lay in this godsforsaken luxurious bed and wait until her body recovers. 

It’s all she can do not to break into a thousand pieces that she would scatter to the nooks and crannies so she wouldn’t have to see the pitying looks on her friends’ faces when Imogen has to help her up. 

She turns on her side and buries her face in an obnoxiously soft down pillow to muffle the sob that wells within her and wracks her body. 

She does a piss-poor job of that, too. 

“Laudna?” Imogen calls sleepily, roused from a sun-dappled doze. Then, alert, “Hey, hey–” 

She’s standing, Laudna can hear, and now she’s gone and disturbed Imogen. Bare feet pad across the cool stone floor, and the far side of the bed dips, ever considerate. She will not come closer, Laudna knows, unless given explicit consent because Imogen is wonderful and caring and lovely.

“What’s wrong, darlin’?” 

Laudna shudders. “I feel terrible.” 

“Oh,” Imogen says, and Laudna can feel the flash of guilt and concern that radiates off of her. “Can I bring you anything? Is it your head?” She shifts her weight. “Do you need water? I can go get a pitcher. Or food, maybe?”

“Stop. Please, stop,” Laudna croaks. Imogen flinches, and gods, Laudna could be sick.

Imogen retreats. “Sorry, I’ll just– sorry,” she murmurs, sounding so small. 

Laudna lifts her head and darts a trembling hand to catch her wrist. “No!” she says. Her body betrays her, the word coming out as more of a roar than she ever could have meant. “No,” she repeats, softer, “stay. Please,” because if she frightens Imogen off, she fears what will crawl into the hole left behind. 

Imogen hesitates, glances down at the ink-tipped fingers clasped around her arm, and sits again. She doesn’t speak, leaving the path clear for Laudna to lead the way, and oh, Laudna could melt. 

Laudna sighs shakily, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…it’s not you.” 

Not Imogen. Never Imogen. 

The silence hangs heavy between them until Laudna can bring herself to speak again. 

“This is my fault, I’m afraid,” she states flatly, refusing to meet Imogen’s gaze. Refusing to see whatever reaction she may find there. Anguish. Frustration. Irritation.

“What?” 

Confusion.  

Laudna looks up, gestures vaguely to their surroundings. “This. All of us being… trapped here.” 

“Laud, what’re you talkin’ about?” 

Imogen’s hand comes to stroke the back of Laudna’s knuckles where they wrap around her other wrist. Her fingers are calloused and work-worn, the rough patches of them catching on the imperfect parts of Laudna. 

“You should be off tracking down your mother or finding out what you can about the moon, and instead,” Laudna’s voice catches in her throat, “you’re here.”

Imogen shakes her head, exhales. “Where I should be is for me to decide.” She says it gently. It is not meant to be a reprimand. It still feels like one. “And where I should be,” she continues, “is wherever you are.” 

Laudna’s eyes flit anywhere but Imogen’s face. 

“If you want me there, of course.”

Laudna’s response is instant. “Always.” 

She finally meets Imogen’s eyes and is met with a somewhat furrowed brow. She wants to ask something, Laudna can tell. Imogen’s head is tilted curiously, her lips slightly parted. Her jaw works subtly, muscles tensing. 

“It’s not your fault,” she settles on at last. “None of it, okay?”

Laudna opens her mouth to respond.

Imogen is steely calm. “You were gone, Laudna. And I couldn’t reach you, and…and you’re here now. You’re back, and that’s all that matters.” 

Laudna shrinks into the pillows, takes her hand back beneath the sheet, fist clenching and unclenching. “I feel like such a nuisance,” she confesses quietly. “I should have tried harder to break her hold on me. I should have–”

“No. Gods,” Imogen snaps, lacking any real bite. She inhales. “Laudna, you…you were dead. And I hate sayin’ it; I hate thinkin’ about it. You couldn’t’ve done anythin’ more than what you did.” She softens, throat tightening with emotion. “You did so much. And I’m so proud of you. And… I’m so grateful you chose to come back.” 

“It wasn’t much of a choice,” Laudna whispers, “I couldn’t very well leave you, darling.” 

“You could’ve.” Imogen bites her lip, ducks her head, fiddles with the hem of her vest. “We, um, I know F.C.G. told you, but we… saw some of your memories. And, and I didn’t really wanna bring it up? So I’m real sorry, but we only saw a couple moments, and we don’t have to talk about it, but,” she looks back to Laudna, “you’re so brave. I don’t think you get told that enough. You’re so strong, Laud, and so good, and I missed you. So much.” She takes a sharp breath.

It bursts out as though holding it in any longer might suffocate her, and Laudna’s hands cease their twitching. She hesitates. Imogen’s affection has split her open, and it’s odd, she thinks, to feel so vulnerable and so safe. That those two sensations can coexist as a tingling in her chest that extends into her tendons and ligaments to warm her all over. She can sense the discolored blush rising in her cheeks. 

She does not feel brave. Strength has always been foreign and abstract. That Imogen can see her that way is… incongruous. Absurd, even. 

“You’re very kind.”

Imogen looks as if she might protest but seems to think better of it. She sighs, a slight, sad smile crossing her lips. She moves to stand again, to cross the room back to her seat, and suddenly, the thought of Imogen being so far away is unbearable. 

“Stay, please?” Laudna shuffles, lifting a corner of the quilt. “This bed is plenty big enough for two, and I dread to think of the state of your neck curled up in the window.”

“You’re sure?” Imogen asks, faint hope coloring her words. 

“Come here.” 

The bed dips again as Imogen clambers in, pressing herself against Laudna, who lets out an oomph as Imogen wraps around her and intertwines their fingers. 

“Sorry!” Imogen says with a relieved exhale, “Sorry, I just–I know I said it before, but… I really missed you.” 

“I missed you, too,” Laudna assures gently, taking in the oaty smell of Imogen. The smell of home. “Rest well, darling.” 

Imogen squeezes their hands in response and burrows closer. 

Laudna relaxes into the embrace.

[bullet-prooflove]

I’d love to see your version of a secret spouse/SO with any of the following

Duarte

Jubal Valentine

Jimmy Lanik

And/Or

Sam Abrams.

Feel free to write as many or as few of those as you want. You are a genius writer.

Also, why don’t you write for barba or Carisi anymore?

Jubal doesn’t tell anyone he’s seeing you. He keeps it on the downlow because he doesn’t want to jinx it. If he’s honest with himself, part of it is because he can’t actually believe that it’s finally happening, that he gets to wake up alongside of you each morning.

It stays a secret for about two months, until Scola comes knocking because he left his I.D badge on your coffee table the night before when the two of you were watching the game. He’s kissing you goodbye when he literally opens the door and sees the other man standing there. He expects it to spread after that but it doesn’t. Scola’s good at keeping secrets, he’s been keeping a lid on the way Jubal feels about you since the day you took a bullet for your partner.

It's O.A. that finds out next, the two of you are getting dinner in a tiny hole in the wall restaurant. Jubal’s just reached across the table and taken your hand when Omar appears alongside of you. He’s picking up an order for dinner with his cousins and saw the two of you sitting there.

“It’s been a long time coming.” He tells the two of you with a knowing smile.

He’s not wrong. It’s taken years to get to this point and Jubal’s grateful it’s happening now after you’ve made the shift to Counter Terrorism.

Maggie works it out when she sees you on a run. It’s six in the morning and she’s completing a second circuit of her new route when she spots the two of you at a coffee shop near the park. She notices Jubal’s wearing yesterday’s shirt, before he leans in to kiss you. She tells O.A. later on that morning and he simply gives her that shit eating grin.

“You knew.” She accuses.

“For over a month.” He tells her.

Tiffany knows that Jubal’s seeing someone, she’s known ever since she pointed out the lipstick on his cheek one morning. She just doesn’t realise who it is until you’re called in to work a case together. She realises how much your body language has changed since you used to work here, how instead of putting distance between the two of you, you’re leaning in instead.

“It’s finally happened.” She tells Scola when the case is over, and he snorts before telling her she’s three months too late.

The relationship isn’t even on Isobel’s radar, not until six months down the line. She’s leaving her office when she sees the two of you step onto the elevator together. Jubal’s hand reaches for yours, fingers entwining, and she knows she’s looking at a couple in love. She smiles to herself because out of everyone the two of you deserve it.

This plays into my Jubal work moving forward. Also the reference to Scola keeping Jubal's secret is to an upcoming fic called 'Just in Case'.

Answer to your Q:

I'm just not a fan of them anymore. I really liked what they did in the end with Rollisi, not the beginning but the way it turned out with them and in my head that's OTP. For Barba, I rewatched his eps a while ago and I just hated what they did to his character towards the end, like he became a different person. - also for me I think I was done with him after I finnished writing 'All In' I couldn't imagine him with anyone other then Jen after that.

[sarahnevra]

Hello everyone.

You've seen me ask for help a few times over the past year and change and I'm indescribably grateful to all of you who helped us, but I have to put myself out here and ask for assistance one last time.

We just received an intent to evict notice. We have 9 days from today (11/22/23) to pay the full balance or action will be taken to begin repossession of our home.

We had been paying off our back rent steadily, throwing as much of our paychecks at the hole every two weeks like clockwork, over the past months and it was working. We were climbing, albeit very slowly, out of the hole and keeping ahead of any action like this by clearing the back balance out. But my husband lost his job in August because someone several cities away decided having a court appearance on record for back rent was sufficient grounds for firing. With that, suddenly we couldn't do it. We still put everything we could towards the rent, everything of my paychecks and his unemployment except the bare minimum to pay other bills and keep us fed, but it wasn't enough. He has just gotten a new job and we've started paying more again, but it was too late to clear that last back edge of the rent timer.

Please, please, anything you can do to help is appreciated. We don't want to lose our home. I'm not even sure where we would go.

Please, if you can put even $1 up to help, we'll be forever grateful.

Or share this around. Please, please, help us.

Thank you for taking the time to see this today, and I hope you all have a peaceful holiday season.