#It is indeed hell to be in that situation

[theotherrookie]

Erica's ears perked up. She was glad Travis appreciated her choice of nicknames. That meant they could both have fun with it.

"Yep! And then you could do all sorts of things like standing ominously behind someone, or breaking things in two for no reason—" she tilted her head, "Do you think you could break a phone book in half? We could also find other stuff that is more readily available than one of those old things."

Indeed, the elven shenanigans couldn't be so easily stopped once they were encouraged.

"Nah. Willow has to do her thing on that fancy dashboard screen over there." Erica paused to slide in once the windows were rolled down, "And I get more leg space back here!"

It wasn't safe to ride with her legs resting on the seats, but she too could have some fun while the kids weren't around.

"Or my creator's office." Willow added, "Some smokers do their very best to discourage others from getting addicted. They fail to realize that effort should be better spent towards dropping it themselves."

"But that gets some of them out of the way faster." Erica said, leaning back, "You know, Rook's mum goes back to the afterlife sometimes. I bet she's been looking for Cassandra..."

"With nefarious intent, of course."

Rook's attitude had to come from somewhere. They could only imagine the kind of commotion Veronica caused whenever she had to retire beyond the veil for a few days.

"Yeah. I don't think I'd be able to sit back here if we had to keep the windows up." Erica said, before grinning, "Hell yeah. Hit it, Willow!"

Willow placed a hand on the dashboard and quickly disabled the GPS, before tapping into the radio. She decided to start with a song that should fit everybody's taste, as well as the general atmosphere.

"I'm taking requests." she stated casually as she leaned back.

The pocket dimension used to be a secret so jealously kept it was at one point something of a mystery with the Order itself. Had he known about it, Five would have thrown a fit over how it looked like Rook might just start organizing guided visits at this point.

Lucien felt the need to keep an eye on Russell as they proceeded. He was in a pretty ragged state the last he had been there. Lucien figured it could bring back some bad memories.

"Well, I guess you guys now know where the mean monsters go when they get in the orb." Rook said, "This is actually more effective than standing around waiting to be smacked off your feet while in the middle of sucking someone off."

She had no idea why Five didn't use the orbs, but she had the feeling he either didn't know about them or simply refused to use them for some reason. He probably wouldn't have been such a sadistic freak if he for once did things like everybody else.

"Thank you, Leofric. I'll be happy to show you around." Veronica replied, before she stuffed a few more vials in her bag.

Rook did her best to help store all the equipment, calling up an extra chest for Leofric's armor. She appreciated the logic of leaving the bulk of their equipment behind. Not everybody's outfits fit like a glove the way her armor did.

So she considered her options, then decided to call up her necklace and hide her wings. "Well, that's one weight off my back."

Lucien rolled his eyes, "That certainly makes a difference."

"Hey. When I change out of this, it'll be into my pajamas." Rook snapped back, "Well, you could have Antonio take a thirty minute dive, or you could be stuck on the infinite stairs from Mario 64."

Both were equally unfortunate situations. But with Rook around, there was no risk of them getting lost.

"All because the Brotherhood guys are a bunch of idiots."

"Excuse me, they're my easily manipulated bunch of idiots." Lucien pointed.

"Yes, well, we can get going when you guys are ready."

"I will hope you do." Willow replied, "And perhaps that day I will show you my Citadel."

It was a bit extreme for a first outing, but it's the thought that counts.

"I'm the mightiest birb." Rook said, "And I will dominate the skies as well as the skatepark!"

And if all else failed, her improved healing factor would peace her back together quickly.

"That's the Big Bro." Erica said, pointing to Antonio, "And you're Bigger Bro. It's easy!"

And more accurate, considering both were also 'cat brothers' to her. Besides, it sounded more menacing if she threatened to call up an older brother.

"It'll be something fun to play with while we fix the pool." Erica added. Rook predictably didn't look as enthusiastic at the idea.

A swimming pool still would have been more interesting than Five's car. Erica shifted on her feet for a bit, then hopped on the roof, leaning over to look inside while Travis worked.

"Well, it looks like it can go fast." Then again, that was mostly because it was red. "Willow rides shotgun. It's the rules."

"Aside from the rather crude image, I believe we should keep the windows down even after fumigating the entire car." Willow suggested.

She doubted Veronica's potion could do much against the stench of cigarette smoke.

"Well, it is a pocket dimension." Rook chimed in, "It was put together and fit between the realities and we can come and go through the little holes that form when we come in."

"Of course, we ensure such breaches are sealed." Veronica reassured, "This way we don't get each other's clutter mixed."

Speaking of, she would replenish her supplies while they were there. Veronica turned as several old wooden shelves, each filled with potions and ingredients, descended to their right.

"Feel free to have a look, Leofric." she offered, "And take whatever you may need. This is my smaller stash."

"This isn't the best time to run a clearance sale, mum." Rook pointed, "Gather everything and just put it here–"

Rook snapped her fingers to summon a large crate. Lucien was the first to dump his gloves and mask, taking a moment to adjust his cuffs, before returning to his place by Russell's side, ready to take his hand and not let go for the duration of their stay in that void.

"Well, we could do that, but there's just a small issue." Rook summoned a long rolled up carpet and gave it a good kick before watching it roll forward, then up, down and spiraling back above their heads in every direction. "We had a little accident a while ago and I'm still not done sorting out the physics in here. It gets trippy if you mark it like that."

[eviemonroeer]

The Monroe Effect: Chapter 15

Set during Season 5, Episode 21 of ER. Spoilers if you haven't seen the show.

Warnings: blood, vomiting, mentions of abortion, fear of miscarriage, probable medical inaccuracies, angst

WC: 4.3 k (wow, I think this is the longest one yet and it's mainly original material!)

ER story belongs to original creators, just adding on my own original charter.

Taglist: @pleasecallmeunhinged, @rainmg, @arigoldsblog, @queenslandlover-93, @hagarsays, and @antisocialfiore

Main Story: prev | next

Snapshots: prev | next

The best way to figure out if I was indeed pregnant, was via a blood test. It would be the most accurate. But how the hell was I supposed to put my blood into the system at work without it being suspicious? I couldn’t go through the clinic like I had with Carol; there was no prenatal clinic to hide the test. I guess I could go to another ER, but that meant I couldn’t put a rush on it. And I really needed to know if this was happening for sure, even if every nerve in my body was telling me it was. I did my best to stay clear of Carter, worried I would spill my guts if I was around him to long.  

The afternoon/night shift was busy as normal. First it was the stripper and her weird “FBI” bodyguards and now, later in the evening, we were dealing with three teens in an accident on the way to prom. Major burns, possible paralysis, and another missing teen. It was a mess. And with this nausea, I was having a hard time focusing. Usually in traumas, my stomach was pretty calm, but I was fighting for my life to stay out of the bathroom. Thankfully I lasted until Carter tubed the poor burn victim before I took off. 

I fell to my knees in the stall just as the vomit made its appearance. It felt like it went on forever; the minute I felt like I was done, it started again. Eventually all that was left was bile, and I was able to get my arms propped on the toilet bowl so I could lay my head down. This was the worst it had been in the last couple of days, and I had a feeling it wouldn’t be lightening up soon.

Prying my eyes open, I used the stall to slowly stand up. I thought there was going to be a recurrence when a dizzy spell hit me, but thankfully the feeling past. I left the stall to clean up when I was met with the knowing stare of Carol Hathaway. 

“Sorry Carol.” I said, moving past her to the sink. “I’m on my way back out there.” 

“How far along are you?” 

I stopped washing my hands and looked up at her in the mirror. There was no point in lying to her; Carol Hathaway knew me better then I knew myself sometimes. I bit my lip and turned off the sink, turning to her. I crossed my arms in front of my stomach and sighed. “I don’t know. I haven’t even taken a test yet.” 

“But you think you are?” 

“I would say so with the sickness, the sensitivity to smell, and the fact that I already need to get a bigger bra.” 

“That’s sounds about right.” Carol said and offered me a comforting smile. “How are you feeling?” 

“Honestly, I don’t know. This whole situation is so unbelievably complicated.” 

“Tell me about it.” Carol chuckled, trying to lighten the situation. “Am I allowed to ask who’s responsible?” 

“I think it’s kind of obvious.” 

 “Carter?” I nodded. “Well, honestly, I’m surprised it took you guys this long. We all thought you would have hooked up years ago.” 

“I’m guessing you all made bets too.” 

“Of course. I think Malik might finally win.” I scoffed and shook my head. “Does he know yet?” 

“No. I thought I should at least take a test and have concrete proof before I ruin the poor boy’s life.” 

“You’re not going to ruin his life. Maybe scare him a little. That is if......do you want to keep the baby?”

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. “I... I don’t know. I stayed up most of last night thinking about it. I have a job, a place to live. I’ve always wanted to have a family. I’ve had this maternal instinct for a while. But am I actually ready for this? Am I ready to be in charge of a whole other human being’s life? Someone who is going to rely on me for everything. That is a lot of work. And I don’t have a big support system. Just my aunt. But she lives states away and we only see each other or talk every so often. 

“And I mean, Carter is.... Carter. And up until a few weeks ago, I didn’t think he looked at me like that; I thought we were just friends. I mean we’ve flirted back and forth for years, but it was always in good fun. Then Lucy had to go and kick him and mess everything up. If he didn’t want to have this kid, I don’t know if I could work here anymore. He’s stuck here until he finishes residency, and I don’t know if I could see him every day if I decided to keep this baby and he didn’t want it.” I started to feel the tears well up in my eyes. Carol walked forward and wrapped her arms around me, pulling me in. “I just feel really confused and alone right now.”

“You’re not alone in this, no matter what you choose.” Carol paused for a moment. “Especially because I’m pregnant too.” 

“What?” I exclaimed and pushed back, looking at her. “H-how far along?”

“Almost fifteen weeks.”

“Why haven’t you told anyone?”

“I’ve kind of wanted to keep it to myself. Not have any judgement.”

“Carol, if anyone’s going to be judged, it’s me. At least you and Ross were engaged. I conceived this baby in the...... Never mind.” I shook my head. “You know, I think we might be about eight weeks apart.”

“We should probably tell the other nurses that they shouldn’t be drinking the water here.” 

I laughed, a weak laugh, but a laugh, nonetheless. “Would you mind taking my blood? Just so I know for sure.” 

“I can. Why don’t we go to the suture room?” 

A few minutes later, we were set up for the blood draw. She was gentle when she stuck the needle in. It only took a moment, but I knew this test would confirm what I already knew and change my whole life. Well not only my life, but Carter’s life. I began walking back to admit for a new patient to try and focus myself on something else until I got the results, when Carter walked into the hall, tossing something in the trash.  

“Hey Evie, can I talk to you for a minute?” 

“Not right now Carter. I’m busy.” I turned and went back down the other way. 

“It’ll just take a minute.” I just ignored him, trying to find another doctor or patient to help. “Genevieve, stop!” 

The sound of my full name was the thing that pumped the brakes. I turned back quickly to look at Carter. “What do you want, John?” 

Carter scoffed and grabbed my hand, pulling me into the nearby exam room. “What is wrong with you? You’ve barely talked to me lately. I thought we were back in a good place after we talked.” He paused. “Or have you been avoiding me because you don’t want to turn me down?” 

I sighed. “Carter now isn’t the time to talk about this.” I tried going for the door again, but he grabbed me. 

“Yes, it is. You won’t talk to me unless I corner you or it has to do with a patient. Evie, I thought I was at least your friend. Why won’t you tell me what’s wrong?” 

“Carter, I can’t. Not here.” 

“Evie, please.” 

“Carter I—uh!” 

A sharp pain radiated through my lower belly and into my pelvis. I hissed and grabbed my stomach, doubling over. “You okay, Evie?” Carter asked, trying steady me.    

“Uh.... I don’t know.” I moaned, still reeling from the pain. 

“Evie, you’re bleeding.” 

That snapped me out of it. “What?!” I looked down and sure enough there was a blood stain on my scrubs. I looked up and met Carter’s eyes, tears already beginning to pool in my eyes.

“Okay, let’s get you on the gurney.” He instructed and helped me over to the bed, before sticking his head out the door. “I need some help here!” At the sound of his call for help, Carol came running, her eyes widening as she saw me. 

“Randi, page Mark.” She called out over her shoulder and came over to me. I was crying by this point, holding my stomach, and praying that I wasn’t losing the baby. 

“Evie, baby, it’s going to be okay.” Carter said as he and Carol got me up on the bed. At the word baby, my crying only got worse. God, he was gonna hate me forever. The door to the exam room burst open seconds later as Mark walked in, already putting on gloves. 

“What’s going on?” he asked Carter.

“Sudden onset pain followed by vaginal bleeding.” Carter explained. “I don’t know what happened. One minute we were talking and the next, she doubled over.” 

“I’m so sorry.” I cried, looking at Carter. 

“Evie—”

“Please don’t hate me.” Carter looked down at me, confused. I swallowed and turned to Mark. “I’m pregnant. Seven weeks, give or take. I haven’t seen a doctor yet.” 

The whole room stopped. Carol closed her eyes and sighed, knowing how I felt now that the secret was out. Mark was speechless. And Carter...... God, Carter had to be pissed by the way his face started to redden. 

 “Okay, let’s page OB and get an ultrasound machine.” Mark told Carol before turning back to me. “Gen, have you had bleeding or cramping before?” 

“No. This is the first time.” I knew by the look on Mark’s face, he could tell I was scared. 

“Okay, don’t worry. We’ve got you. And you’ve been having morning sickness?” 

“Yes, pretty consistently.” 

“Carter, start an IV.” But the young doctor stayed in place, just staring at my belly. I could tell by the look on his face that he was doing the math in his head. I really wanted to shout at him, ‘Yes Carter we made this baby in the films room, now move your ass!” But I didn’t have too. 

“Carter!” Mark shouted, snapping him out of it. “Start an IV. She probably dehydrated and that won’t help the cramping.” 

Carter nodded and went into autopilot mode, getting an IV started in my arm. I turned and faced him as he hung a banana bag. “I’m sorry.” I sobbed, my voice cracking. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” 

Despite the slight anger that simmered in Carter, he couldn’t help his heart breaking for her. She looked so vulnerable lying there on the gurney, obviously fearing the worst, already mourning the life inside her. Carter shook his head and pet her head, resting his hand at the top. He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “It’s okay. We’ll talk about this later. I’m here now.” Another sob left her body. He squeezed her hand and brought it up to his mouth to kiss as well. 

Carol finally came back and rolled the ultrasound machine into the room. Mark sat down, setting up to run it. “Okay Gen, we’re going to do an abdominal ultrasound to see what’s going on.” Mark slowly rolled up my scrub top and put a line of gel along my lower abdomen, placing the probe on my stomach. He pressed down a little as the machine came to life. The black and white screen was fuzzy, but as he moved the probe a little, a clear picture of the inside of my uterus came into focus. And thankfully the black circle looked to still have something inside of it. 

“Okay, there’s the baby.” Mark explained, pointing to the little bean shape. “And there’s......” He clicked on the machine and suddenly a fast-whooshing sound filled the room. “There’s the heartbeat.” Everyone collectively breathed a sigh of relief and my sobs turned to ones of thanks. “Okay, let’s see if we can find out what’s going on.” 

Mark continued the examination the best he could, probably pulling everything from his OB rotation to the best of his memory. “It looks to me that the bleeding is coming from a small spot right here.” He pointed at the screen, to another smaller black circle next to the gestational sac. “I don’t want to risk moving you right now. We’re gonna get OB down here to take a look and confirm. Once they do that, they will advise on what to do next.” He paused and looked at Carter. “Are you guys going to be okay without me?”  

Carter ran a hand over his face before nodding. “Yeah....yeah. We’re good.” Mark nodded and left the room, Carol right behind him. 

I let out the breath I was holding as Carter walked away, leaning up against the wall with his arms crossed. “How long have you known?” Carter asked, his hand grabbing at the back of his neck. 

Way to get straight to the point. 

“I started having symptoms a week or so ago. Just discounted them as stress at first, or my period. But then recently, I started having nausea and that kind of tipped me off. I don’t really ever get that kind of sick. I put in for a blood test to confirm, but I hadn’t gotten the results back before this happened. I wanted to wait till I was sure I had something to tell you before I did.” 

I saw him hesitate a moment. “Are you wanting to keep the baby?” 

“I thought that would be something we talk about together.” 

Carter went to open his mouth but before he could, the door to the exam room opened and Dr. Coburn walked in followed by Dr. Greene. “Good evening, Ms. Monroe. Dr. Carter. Why don’t we take a look at what’s going on?” I nodded and rolled my shirt back up as Carter returned to my side. Dr. Coburn pulled the ultrasound machine over again and started her scan. I felt Carter grab my hand as she looked.

She was quiet for some time, tapping on the keyboard and moving the probe back and forth. I couldn’t even see the monitor this time. It worried me. “Dr. Greene, I think your diagnosis is correct.” She finally moved the ultrasound monitor so Carter and I could see it. “There is a subchorionic hematoma, right here.” She pointed at the screen. “It’s a buildup of blood between the chorionic membrane around the baby and the uterine wall. Thankfully it’s pretty small, caught it before it got worse.” She pressed another group of buttons and the baby’s heartbeat filled the room again. “Heartbeat is good. 105 BPM, perfect for this stage of development. Measurements are at seven weeks, three days. Does that seem about right?” 

“Yes.” I replied. Dr. Coburn nodded and turned off the machine. 

“We’ll get you some ultrasound pictures and set you up with a follow up appointment in a few days in my office. There are no real treatments for this kind of hematoma. You really just have to sit and wait for it to heal on its own. I’m gonna start you with bed rest for two weeks, maybe more depending on your follow up. If you’re cleared to come back to work, you’ll need to be on desk duty until you’re out of the first trimester. Do you think you can do that?” 

“We can work it out.” Mark said, stepping in. 

Coburn nodded. “That means you’re done for the day. Do you have someone who can take you home? Help you get comfortable?” 

“N—” 

“Dr. Carter’s shift is done.” Mark interrupted again. “We can cover it. I’ll talk to Kerry.” 

“Perfect.” Coburn said, looking between us all. “Bed rest, Ms. Monroe. I mean it. Someone from my office will be in touch about your follow up tomorrow. Don’t hesitate to call if something happens, or you know where the ER is.” Coburn patted the bed and stood, walking out of the exam room. 

“Carter, why don’t you go finish up with the patients you have now and pass them off while Gen finishes her banana bag. I’ll have Carol come in with your stuff, a change of clothes, and we’ll get you set to go home.”

“I have an intubated patient waiting to go up to the burn unit.” Carter explained. 

“You can sign him over to me. Go get started.” Carter nodded and then looked at me. I nodded too, letting him know it was okay to leave before he turned and walked out. 

“I take it you don’t want anyone else to know why you’re in here, right?” Mark asked, now that we were alone. “We can keep it private.” 

“They’re gonna know anyway. You can’t force anyone out. But any privacy would be nice.” 

Mark nodded. “I’m assuming he didn’t know until now.” I bit my lip as tears pricked in my eyes again. All I could do was nod. “It’ll be okay.” Mark put a hand on mine and squeezed it, before exiting the room, leaving me truly alone for the first time. 

The tears flowed freely as I sobbed at the mess my life had just turned into. 

Thankfully for once, everyone minded their business as Carol wheeled me out of the exam room and out to the ambulance bay. We waited a couple of minutes before Carter pulled his car in and they got me in the passenger’s seat. Before she shut the door, Carol handed me my purse and the strip of ultrasound photos, a hopeful smile on her face, despite her own red eyes. 

We pulled out of the ambulance bay and started the route to my apartment. “Here.” Carter said, pulling something out of his shirt pocket. “I found these in the lounge. Thought they might help.” 

It was a small package of crackers, most likely from someone’s salad. “Thanks.” I opened them and lightly nibbled on them, trying to keep my stomach from getting upset. 

“You feeling okay?”

“I’m alright. The banana bag helped. I haven’t been able to keep much down lately. Even water.” 

He nodded and his hands tightened around the steering wheel. He fidgeted in his seat, obviously unsure of what to say next. “Do you have any food in your apartment? You’re going to have to eat some time.” 

“I have some basic things. I’ve kind of been living off the B.R.A.T. diet for the last couple of weeks.” 

“I thought you looked skinnier.” He mumbled. “Do you want me to stop and get anything?” 

“I really just want to go home, take a shower, and go to bed if that’s okay.” 

The rest of the car ride was quiet. He thankfully found a spot in front of my building and parked, shutting the door and running over to my side before I could even get my door open. He helped me from the car and took my things, including the ultrasounds as he placed his right arm around my back and his left hand grabbed mine. We were slow walking up the few steps to the front door. Thankfully my building had an elevator or Carter probably would have had a conniption. 

He took my keys and unlocked the door for me. “Where to now?” 

“I’m going to the bathroom to take a shower.” I unhooked myself from him. “Alone.” 

I walked into the bathroom and shut the door behind me. I turned and laid my forehead against it, taking a deep breath before turning the lock. Once I got the shower started, I stripped and proceeded to thoroughly scrub my body, wanting to get any feel or smell of being in that hospital bed off me. Even when the water ran cold, I did another pass before I felt totally clean. I wrapped up my hair and then dried my body with my fluffiest towel. As I began drying off, I realized I hadn’t grabbed any clothes on my way into the bathroom, so I would have to walk to my bedroom to get them. I took a deep breath and opened the bathroom door. I looked down the hall towards my room and then down towards the living room. 

“Jesus Christ!” I yelled and put my hand over my heart. 

“Are you okay?” Carter asked, jumping up from his chair to grab me. 

“You scared the crap out of me!” I pushed his chest. “Why were you sitting outside of the bathroom door?” 

“In case something happened, and you needed me.” 

“The only thing I need is a defibrillator after that heart attack you just gave me.” I started walking towards my bedroom to change, but Carter was on my tail. 

“You have some soup. I could make you that if you want.” 

“How about some toast?” I went to close the door behind me when his hand caught it. “Can I help you?” 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked. I rolled my eyes, thinking he was just being overbearing. 

But then I actually looked at him. 

He was scared. Terrified even. 

I suddenly felt like such an ass. At least I had some time to process the possibility of a baby. He learned it was happening while we feared I was losing it. And Carter could be so deeply empathetic. Sometimes I forgot that about him, especially in high intensity moments. It always surprised me since he came from a family that lived like they were childless, people who didn’t show love. But I guess that’s what made it make sense. 

I sighed and wrapped my arms around him and held him tightly. “I’m okay.” I felt him squeeze me back, and I breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m going to get dressed. I would appreciate it if you would make me a couple pieces of plain toast and then we can talk.” 

“I can do that.” 

“Thank you.” He kissed my forehead and then turned to head back to the front of the apartment as I turned back to my bedroom and shut the door.  

“Try this.” Carter handed me a plate with two pieces of toast on it. “Eat slow.” I was now seated on my couch in my comfiest pair of sweats. I took a small bite and my stomach stayed calm, so maybe I was getting a break. 

“Thanks.” 

We both were quiet at I finished the first piece, which was probably the most of anything I had in the last few hours, if not day. I decided not to mess it up and put the plate with the other piece on the table. “You alright?” Carter asked. 

“Yeah. Just trying not to overdo it.” I watched him ring his hands together. Might as well get this over with. “I promise I was going to tell you. I just didn’t want to tell you before I had proof that there was a baby. Before everything happened, Carol had taken my blood and sent off for a test.” I scoffed. “I imagine the results are ready now.” I pinched the bridge of my nose and sighed. 

“I think we should have this baby.”

I looked up and my eyes went wide. “What?” I asked, not sure I had heard him right. 

“I want to have this baby with you. We might not be a couple, but you are my best friend. I honestly trust and care about you more than anyone else in my life. I can’t think of anyone else better to have a baby with then you.” He paused. “But only if that’s what you want. If you don’t want to, I’m not going to be mad. I’ll even hold your hand through the procedure.” He took a deep breath. “What are you thinking?”

“I’m scared.” I choked laugh coming out of me. “Petrified even. Even though I see babies and kids every day, I feel like I don’t know the first thing about raising one. But when I started bleeding, I was more scared of losing it.” I paused and took a deep breath. “I want to have this baby too.” And probably due to the adrenaline leaving my body, I began to sob. 

Carter put his arms around me and held me tightly, kissing the top of my head as I sobbed into his chest. I even ended up crawling into his lap at some point and he just held me. And the whole entire time he just kept whispering, ‘I got you’ over and over again.

She had passed out at some point due to the crying. Evie was still in his lap, breathing steadily with her head resting on his shoulder. Carter decided it would be best to move her to her bed so she could be comfy, even if it risked waking her up. He held her in his arms like she was made of glass as he walked down the hall, before laying her in her bed. He covered her and went to leave the room. 

“Please stay.” 

He turned back around and saw Evie, her eyes open and looking at him. He nodded and turned off the lights before joining her in the bed. She crawled over to him and snuggled up beside him. “I don’t think we should tell anyone until I get the all clear.” She said in a small voice. 

“I agree.” He said and wrapped his arms around her, bringing her closer. “It’s going to be okay.” 

She nodded. “We have a lot we need to talk about.”

“And we will, but you need to rest tonight.”

And the two laid in each other’s arms until they fell asleep. 

[immediatebreakfast]

Light was each simple bosom there, Save two, who ill might pleasure share — The Abbess and the novice Clare

Out of the group of nuns who are both excited, and a little scared for this travel to Lindisfarne, both the abbess, and the novice Clare are brought up as important characters to take into account in this canto second.

These two characters really contrast eachother in both their reasonings to become a dame of the lord, and their own grief in what is behind that decision.

On one hand the abbess, who is the mother superior for this nun group, is quite the interesting character in how she views her religion, and the power that it gives to the people in superior seats within the church's hierarchy.

Her hopes, her fears, her joys, were all Bounded within the cloister wall: The deadliest sin her mind could reach Was of monastic rule the breach; And her ambition’s highest aim To emulate Saint Hilda’s fame.

The abbess wants to become like Saint Hilda to gain the reputation that she has to her name, and her legend. She wants to become a saint through her material actions, and all of the favors that she can do in order to get to sainthood at the eyes of the church.

It's a huge sin to have this ambition because it is deceiving to god to try to become a Saint without actually meaning the good that you do, but the abbess doesn't care. She knows it's a sin, she knows that she is deceiving both the people, and her faith, but she is firm in her ambition, even if she is ashamed of it.

Though, vain of her religious sway, She loved to see her maids obey; Yet nothing stern was she in cell, And the nuns loved their Abbess well.

And she has put so much of her life, and work into this personal mission that at some point I can kinda see her deceiving herself in her own vanity while the people around her recognize her efforts while not being aware of her conflict. The abbess has used her money to make her convent a place of respect, and rest. Decking it out with gems, relics, and ivory; making the poor have resources, and offering the pilgrims housing.

The poem had all of the traits, and the meanings to make a truly corrupt agent of the church, but in her hurry to be seen in the likes of Saint Hilda the abbess somehow gained the love of the nuns she leads.

Sad was this voyage to the dame; Summoned to Lindisfarne, she came, There, with Saint Cuthbert’s Abbot old, And Tynemouth’s Prioress, to hold A chapter of Saint Benedict, For inquisition stern and strict, On two apostates from the faith, And, if need were, to doom to death.

And just like any member of the church, the abbess is going along with her nuns on a journey to see judgement being in action, and a possible execution.

On the other hand, Clare is the novice nun, she has yet not taken the vows to become a full nun, and seems to be drowning in her grief that turned her life into a tragedy.

Lovely and gentle, but distressed. She was betrothed to one now dead, Or worse, who had dishonoured fled. Her kinsmen bade her give her hand To one who loved her for her land;

This poor woman had only one option to escape a very unwanted suitor, and it was to join the church. To make herself absolutely untouchable for him inside the holy walls. On top of having to mourn her actual lover who died recently.

A sun-scorched desert, waste and bare, Nor waves nor breezes murmured there; There saw she, where some careless hand O’er a dead corpse had heaped the sand, To hide it till the jackals come, To tear it from the scanty tomb. See what a woful look was given, As she raised up her eyes to heaven!

Clare is distressed, truly distressed. The poem keeps using that word for her, to exemplify how her suffering has led her to this point, how Clare now has to attend a trial of her almost murderers in Lindisfarne. They tried to murder her while she was mourning, and Clare had no choice but to Glee to the place where (at least) the whims of powerful people where submitted to the power of the church.

The islanders, in joyous mood, Rushed emulously through the flood, To hale the barque to land; Conspicuous by her veil and hood, Signing the cross, the Abbess stood, And blessed them with her hand.

At least Clare ended up under the protection of this abbess while her being is so mentally fragile. I don't even want to imagine how it would feel to be on her shoes, knowing that any step she takes outside of the abbey could be used to either pursue her or kill her.

A horrible tragedy in the middle of the almost fantasy like adventure of lord Marmion's introduction.

[simptasia]

bless all the nurses who sincerely told me i'd make a great nurse, during the months my mum was dying and i was taking care of her near constantly to the point of around the clock emotional and physical exhaustion. and then i'd have to, thank them but gently inform them I'm Only Doing This Well Because I Have To

[nacrenecitygardening]

Having to be awake at nearly one in the morning to format strongly worded emails to the insurance company, that's certainly how I wanted to spend my night.

[business-as-usual-bats]

Damian: Todd, the whole family has been summoned, you must-

Jason: I don't have to do shit. Go to hell.

Damian: -tt- I, for one, am not surprised, I will inform the others of your cowardice.

Jason: yeah, yeah. The family disappointment per usual. I'll go back "home" when Alfred calls me himself. Now fuck off, I have a criminal empire to run.

Damian: If you care, it is Drake who called the meeting, not father.

Jason, hesitating: Yeah, well, he knows how I feel. Whatever. We can fight it out later if he's pissed.

Damian: I will waste no more precious air on a buffoon such as you *disappears*

Later

Damian: Drake, as duty I must inform you that Todd will not be here tonight. He is far too home-phobic presently.

Tim, freezes in place, because he called the family meeting so he could come out as bisexual and actively dating a man: You mean homophobic?

Damian, rolling his eyes: if that is the proper terminology, yes

Tim: what, uh, what else- I mean, did he say anything else?

Damian: the typical drivel. "Go to hell" "Family disappointment per usual" He said if you don't approve of his decision, to challenge him in battle.

Tim: he... wow. I didn't think he'd...

Tim: Holy shit. Wait. Does that mean, do you- you know why I called the meeting? You know? Who else knows? Does everyone know?

Damian: imbecile. If everyone knew, then what would be the point of the meeting?

Tim: right. Stupid question. How do you feel about it?

Damian, thinking Tim asked his opinion on Jason's decision to avoid the family: -tt- Father and Grayson will be disappointed but not surprised. Gordon will be silently annoyed. Pennyworth might share sympathy but no doubt conceals his true opinions on the matter. Cain and Brown will shrug it off. Thomas might not care, but he is rather unpredictable. It is of little consequence.

Tim: okay. And... and you?

Damian: why should I care? We make our choices and must live with the consequences. I do not pretend to understand as I would never choose to estrange myself from father, or otherwise actively ruin the bonds I spent so many years forging simply to preserve my own comfort.

Tim: estranged??

Damian: I presume that is the goal. That or torture father with guilt and grief for eternity.

Tim: d- don't you think that's a little dramatic?

Damian: indeed. Grayson would claim it would 'tear the family apart' or such nonsense. I am the only sensible one in this useless household.

Tim: well, thank you for... debriefing me on the situation, Damian.

Damian: -tt- try not to waste our time more than necessary in the meeting tonight, Drake. *leaves*

Tim:

Tim: this is red robin on coms line 12, repeat, this is red robin on coms line 12

Tim: The meeting scheduled for tonight is cancelled. False alarm. I'll send updates if anything changes. And I'm

Tim:

Tim: i have some business to address these next few weeks. Going low contact. Red Robin out.

Tim:

Tim: *starts crying*

[supercool-here]

if vampires are a real thing they can only exist in two forms: demon that was never human, or twilight-like. Anything else, I can't conceive of in my mind

[ma7moudgaza2]

How did we cope with hunger in Gaza and not perish until now?

It’s a very strange topic to discuss in the twenty-first century.

Since the Israeli military war began, a more brutal war has been waged alongside it: the war for food.

I don’t know where to start, as I really don’t want to remember anything that happened to us, but it’s necessary to talk about it to benefit from our experience, may God spare you from similar situations.

As men, we are the first line of defense in our family army against the aggression of the hunger war.

The first situation I suffered from was five months into the war. It was a critical time when we had been without food or flour for nearly a month. We were living off what remained of our bodies' fat, some barley, and animal food.

It was a very cold night. Finally, we received a food ration from a charity, which was a bag of flour.

My family rejoiced and prayed, but I sat lamenting my fate. I saw how these rations were distributed; it was extremely chaotic. The queue, oh the queue! I swear the line stretched over 3 kilometers of people.

My turn was scheduled for nine o'clock the next morning. You can imagine that I had to leave at sunset that day to spend the night on the street to secure a place in the queue, otherwise, I wouldn’t receive anything.

I was overwhelmed by three pains:

The hell of children's hunger.

The hell of the queue and the cold.

And the hell of war.

By the way, the military war is nothing compared to what I mentioned above.

I indeed burdened myself with clothes, took my mattress to sleep on, and carried the water bottle for which I had stood in another queue to obtain.

I bid farewell to my family and left. I am Mahmoud, a computer engineer with soft skin. Imagine, my dear, imagine the fear that overwhelmed me.

I truly did not sleep and sat waiting for my turn until it finally came, and I received my ration. It was the most exhausting day of my life, but it became bearable when I returned to my family and found them eating.

My mother suggested a way to eat. Each of us would only get one loaf of bread throughout the day. She said: "Eat half of the meal you usually eat over a longer period. If you eat half a loaf for breakfast in 10 minutes, eat a quarter of a loaf in half an hour. The effect will be as if you ate half a loaf."

Indeed, the method was very, very effective.

The question for you:

What were you doing while people in Gaza were dying of hunger?

I have a donation campaign for my family if you are interested in helping your friend from Gaza. 👇

@hyperions-fate @nabulsi @khizuo @magnus-rhymes-with-swagness @schoolhater

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@silicacid @audrey-hepbae @cryptarchs-qualm @hussyknee @ana-bananya

@doorhine @chilewithcarnage @daloy-politsey @transmutationisms @toyttsumedinasyisroel

@ysali @lightinger @jihaad @neechees @time-being

@batmanisagatewaydrug @mahoushojoe @opencommunion @palistani @comintoyoulive

@sar-soor @coughloop @vakarians-babe @notchainedtotrauma @sabrsiren

@moqawama @junglejim4322 @niqabisinparis @communist-ojou-sama @ghostofanonpast

@pitbolshevik @capricornpropaganda @halalchampagnesocialist @sesamie @voidpumpkin

@sivavakkiyar @saharawitch @rhubarbspring @teabisexual @fusdoq

@dirhwangdaseul @gorgugplushie @genderkoolaid @opencommunion @nabulsi

@sawasawako @metanarrates @beserkerjewel @mar64ds @soon-palestine

[somnoir]

Gotham's newest Crime Lord - part 4

Part 3 | Masterpost

Danny wasn't expecting for Red Hood to corner him. He would be lying when he says he wasn't panicking. First of all, they had quite literally strung up the bodies of prominent figures of the court of owls in very public places, then proceeded to order Technus to spread information about the court and their wrong doings.

The next step of the plan had been to publish a list of names—members of the court. Rich fruitloops that they were going to rely on the public to destroy. If the public and the GCPD couldn't do it, Danny had his ways to do so. Hauntings usually drove people mad if done a certain way.

But nevermind that!

His heart was practically trying to escape his chest—not that it was beating but it was there, in spirit (ha). He just wanted to see if little Emily and her sister were being fed by their mom and check if he needed to whisk the kids away and have them reside in one of their headquarters. Dan was more than willing to convert one of their facilities into a safehouse for children. Jeremy and some others were the ones who usually dealt with the house—others being parents are older siblings who got into crime for their family's.

"Phantom."

"Hood."

AAAAHH! The hot revenant really was looking for me! Thankfully, none of his siblings were there to witness how Danny was silently punching the air in absolute joy. Fuck yeah! Hot Crime Lord!

"Lemme guess... The big bad bat ain't too happy about the trouble we caused?" Danny chuckled, tilting his head as he narrowed his eyes. Organized crime was much better than his kingly duties, especially when it wasn't him playing the leader. Dan was doing pretty good as a boss, though Danny was reluctant to admit that in honor of his role as a younger brother.

"Sure as hell." Red Hood snorted, "But that ain't why I'm here, ghosty."

Danny rolled his eyes, gesturing for the other man to keep talking.

"You dealt with the court. Wraith led the mission... Personally. Not you. Not anyone else. It was Wraith, right?" Red Hood hummed, his helmet and modulator hiding everything. It frustrated Danny.

The mission was indeed led by Dante himself. But the operation had been split into three. Dan's team (Skulker, Amorpho) taking on the leaders of the court and disposing of them immed. While Danny's team (Wulf and Ember) were tasked to deal with the talons. Meanwhile, Elle's team (Johnny, Kitty, and Shadow) were tasked with saving the kids that weren't turned into Talons. But even then, Dan took full command of the situation.

It had been Dan who personally hung the Judge of the Clocktower and smeared his blood with some rhyme. It had been Dan who took charge of the remaining Talons once their leaders were dead and hung.

But it has been Danny who took the main Talon, dragged their body to Arkham, and painted a message in glowing, neon green paint. Maybe mixed with a bit of Ecto for better effects.

At the moment, all of the living Talons were in another one of their facilities—one outside of Gotham. Dan was a paranoid bastard, rightfully so, and had ordered the rehabilitation of these mindless soldiers outside of the Bats' territory. They didn't need anyone meddling with this. Not when it was Dan's first time choosing rehabilitation over elimination. In truth, these Talons were just innocent kids turned into weapons by the real monsters.

"Yeah, Wraith personally led this one." Danny pressed a hand against his hip, defiantly looking at the brick house that was the Red Hood. God, he almost didn't want a growths spurt if this was their height different. "Heard you've been snoopin' around, Red. What? Didya miss me?" It was teasing, a joke. He didn't expect much from it. He leaned in, grinning even when his mouth couldn't be seen, before pulling back as fast as he could.

But Hood sighed, letting out the hottest quiet laugh he could ever muster and tilted his head. "Yeah... Kinda missed you, ghosty. The kids were lookin' for yah. Emily was screamin' for yah on the roof two days ago."

Danny blinked.

Oh....

OH!

"Sure, sure." He immediately dismissed it, trying his best to make sure that his fast didn't go all purple, because apparently, that's the ghost version of blushing. Shit. "But the big bad Bat ain't too happy with us, yeah? I mean. Stringin' up the Judge and Talon gets you on his naughty list."

"Can't say he's pleased about it."

"Yeah, well, we ain't apologizing for that shit. The court wasn't on our radar before but they took one of our kids. Wraith is known for being one hell of a monster when it comes to kids." Danny scoffed, "They were turning them into weapons, Hood. I'd be okay if you want to throw them into Arkham, but the Judge and Talon? Somethings are more important than morals."

And Danny fucking knows that. He knows that some things should be out above morals, that they should be more important. His parents had failed to do that, failed to put their family above their morals and beliefs. The reveal was never going to be good. Not when Maddie Fenton fell to her knees, unable to accept that her baby died and demanded for him to give her back her son. It had hurt when she couldn't accept that Danny was Phantom and Phantom was Danny.

It got worse when they found out about Dan and Elle. They were hysterical. They stopped eventually. No more hunting, no more trying to protray ghosts as evil. They stopped helping the GIW. But they still couldn't accept it. They just vanished after that, leaving Danny and Jazz with Vlad, who had thankfully redeemed himself.

Danny knows what it meant to put something above your morals. Knows how valuable that is.

He shook his head, once again getting his head out of his heart and turning back to Red Hood. "Get to the point, Hood. You weren't looking for me for no reason."

"Well I've got someone who wants to meet the Wraith. The Court... They were almost involved in the court and was targeted." Red Hood tried to explain, making sure to sound as vague as possible. Danny could—kinda—understand why he was. Keeping someone anonymous until they couldn't. "Was wonderin' if you could set up a meeting. I don't think there's anywhere in Gotham that's basically neutral ground at this point but I'm willin' to bet on an area that you guys won't start a fight."

Danny paused, trying to simplify that damn request in his head. Hood wanted a meeting with Wraith, to introduce someone. And about the location? He was right. The entirety of Gotham was someone's haunt, every part of it was claimed. Even when the people were living, some were so damn liminal that certain areas were basically haunts now. Crime Alley being one of the biggest areas to end up becoming a haunt.

He could only think of three places that could somehow be considered their haunt: The Hill, where their main base was, the Narrows where Dan was trying to take over Arkham to make the security better, and possibly the Docks and Harbor. But there wasn't a solid claim on any of them, except for the Hill. It was one of the poorest and most crime-ridden areas of Gotham. The locals were hostile as hell when they first arrived, but after the Ghosts started cleanin' up the streets, helping people by offering a steady income, and keeping the kids safe, they eventually welcomed the Ghosts with open arms. It helped when Dan started weeding out people that were extorting the area.

That area was a no-go, obviously. Not their base.

"Gimme a second. Gotta ask about this before discussing a location." He whipped out his phone, modified perfectly by their resident technopath, Tucker-fucking-Foley.

D1: Got Hood here.

D2: Ew

D2: I don't wanna hear you moon about your revenant

D1: you're a bitch

D1: fuck you

D1: 🖕🖕🖕

D1: but that's not it

D1: he wants to set up a meeting. Said he'll introduce someone that Court tried recruiting

D2: Bet Vlad's castle that it's Nightwing

D2: he fits the Court's recruits

D1: what??

D1: all of the bats fit the MO

D2: yeah but Nightwing's the most flexible one. Idk

D2: Gut feeling

D2: Tell em I'm willing

D2: only on Sunday tho.

D1: K

"Good news! He's willing to show his ugly mug."

Red Hood snorted.

"Bad news—" and now he stiffened, "Wraith's only available on Sunday. Busy sched, see."

"Alright," Hood sighed, "Where are you guys willing to meet?"

Again, that was a problem. Danny might suggest the Bowery but that was too close to Hood's haunt. It wasn't until he felt the tug in his shadow that he goes stiff, blinking before he saw Hood's shadow move behind him. Instead of a hulking man, it was transforming into a classy looking woman—it reminds him of that lady from Resident Evil. The shadow moved, holding up what seemed to be a cigarette. The blankness of darkness morphed and now there was a white grin spread across her face.

Lady Gotham adored her knights but he was sure Red Hood was her favorite. Danny suspected that the city spirit had a hand in his resurrection—to which he was sure that had paperwork he'd need to process soon. But the city spirit was accommodating and welcomed them into her territory, with the promise that their intentions wouldn't turn malicious and destroy the city.

Danny couldn't help but laugh, eyes glowing green and Hood took a instinctive step back. "Heard you bats and birds got yourselves a cave." He tilted his head. "Gotham Cemetery. It's where you'll find ghosts."

The cemetery. The one area that was a haunt to all the dead and never the living.

Before Red Hood could even say another word, Danny floated of the ground, mockingly saluted the revenant, and phased through the wall.

NAILED IT!

"Lil' wing, I'm not sure about this. Doesn't it sound creepy that they want to meet in the cemetery?"

"I have a theory. I am 90% sure that the Ghosts of Gotham are actual ghosts."

"Why's you say that?"

"I had Tim and Babs help me investigate the other known members. All of them can't be detected by cameras cause the footage gets all fucked up. So we had to resort to teaditional means. Seriously, the demon brat and I had to follow that Johnny and Kitty duo around Gotham just so he could draw them properly! I kid you not, I saw those two phase through other vehicles when they were zoomin' around the streets."

"And?"

"There's a possibility that those two are from Gotham. But get this... All the matches are people who were confirmed to have died decades ago. Like... When B was a teenager."

Dick flinched. Okay. The new rogue organization might actually be made up of legitimate dead people.

"Shit."

"Right back at you."

The cemetery was already in their line of vision. Even if Dick Grayson was the target of the Court, Nightwing came with the package. Meeting Wraith as Nightwing was pretty reasonable if you had to ask him. And Jason had done his best to hunt down Phantom after Bruce forbade them from interacting with any of the ghosts unless they were starting trouble first.

Hopefully, this meeting would go well...

The cemetery is quiet once they start walking. The shadows seemed to be more lively, moving and rising like curious children wanting to catch a glimpse.

"BOO!"

His escrima sticks were already in his hands and Jason was already cocking his gun.

Phantom was floating there, upside down as Lazarus green eyes stared back at them. The obvious echo of laughter making the graveyard more eerie.

"Quit that!" Jason snapped, glowering at Phantom but slowly lowered his guns.

"Awww! C'mon now, Hood. You’re acting like you’ve seen a ghost—but a really good-looking one!" Phantom promptly runs his fingers through his hair, winking at Jason before laughing it off like it was nothing.

"You're horrendous."

"Hey, hey, hey! I'm supernatural and beyond this world!" Phantom proudly declared, clearly on the roll. But Lazarus green eyes fell to Nightwing. The reaction reminded Dick of a curious cat.

"Shit, it really was Nightwing you were talking about. I owe Wraith a hundred bucks now, birdie." Even though his mouth couldn't be seen, Dick was pretty sure that Phantom was pouting. "C'mon, birds. The boss is talking to some ghosts over there."

"So... You're really ghosts?" Jason asks, walking beside the floating ghost while Dick trailed back a couple of steps.

"Kinda? There are different kinds of ghosts, really." Phantom shrugged, going silent again. "We usually help out the other ghosts that can't meddle with the living realm. Lotta ghosts in Gotham with unfinished business."

"What kind of business?" Dick frowned.

Phantom turned to him, mischief in his eyes as he pressed a finger against the place where his lips should be. "Now, now. I ain't tellin' you, birdie. Client confidentiality and all that."

Jason grumbled something unintelligible.

"Now that ain't nice, Hood."

And then Jason grunts in response.

"C'mon, Hood!" The way Phantom whined, Dick was very sure he was pouting. "Tsk, tsk. Stop ghostin' me, wouldya?"

Dick held back a snort. While Jason's glare could be felt through his mask.

"What? That wasn't so bad! Wow... This crowd is dead."

Jason groans and Dick didn't even hide his laugh. Okay, maybe Phantom was pretty okay if you could ignore the fact that his group was pretty homicidal if needed.

"And there he is!" Phantom sounded almost mocking, the tone so strangely familiar to Dick. (Twas the sound of a younger sibling rolling their eyes). "Wraith! Brought the birdies!"

"Seriously?" Jason groaned again but stopped. Dick didn't think he was being unreasonable because holy shit!

Wraith had the same white hair as Phantom with skin paler than the damn moon. But unlike Phantom, the ends of his hair looked like fire. Red eyes instead of green... And built like a brick house, because what the fuck was that?! He was taller than Jason and Bruce! Maybe even standing taller than Superman if he stood a little straighter.

He wore the same monochrome outfit that Phantom wore and a mask that covered his mouth. With round, red tinted glasses over his eyes. Wraith was talking to the air, well, the dead. Dick could see the faint outline of a young woman.

The fucking fridge, Wraith, turned towards them once Phantom called for him.

"You fuckin' twerp, can't you see I'm still talkin'? Rude little shit."

And Dick may have realized something else. Oh. OH! That's why it was so familiar, that behaviour and mocking tone! Fucking shit, were Wraith and Phantom brothers?

Red eyes were soon trained on him. Wraith looked him over once, before humming with a smirk.

"So I was right... Nice to meet you, birdie."

Masterpost

[rockingbytheseaside]

Hey! Gosh I love your fics, you are so talented! <3 I have a request after your latest fic haha. The sentences 'It's only a matter of time before he accidentally slips and calls you his spouse in front of people.' would be the perfect plot, actually. When and how would the Harbingers calls their s/o 'their wife' in front of others first time? If you don't like it, you don't have to do it! i hope you have an awesome day!

(hehe, yes, accidentally… mmm. Enjoy!)

✦ They accidentally call you their spouse 

Pierro, Capitano, Dottore, Pantalone, Tartaglia

It was a complete and utter accident; just a harmless slip of the tongue. One moment, your beloved was politely introducing you to some of his Fatui subordinates, the other he inadvertently referred to you as “my spouse” in front of others. It would've been a sweet moment of shared laughter, were it not spoken in front of so many people of the Fatui. It’s not like your beloved’s subordinates would start correcting him, he's a Harbinger after all… now how would you navigate this awkward situation? 

✧ The ever-cold and calculating Pierro prevents any mistakes from slipping past him. Yet here he is, standing composed next to you as he gently gestures to you and claims:

“From here on out, my spouse shall reside in the Zapolyarny Palace and I expect all obedience to be directed towards them.” 

You went silent. The servants went silent. Even he went silent. You carefully murmured to him:

“... Pierro, dear. We are not married.” 

Somehow the Jester remained blank, as if the error of his brain eluded him. Or perhaps, he realized it was too late to reprimand his mistake, especially in front of the royal servants of the palace. He simply cleared his throat and nodded woefully: “Indeed, we aren't. My apologies.” 

The hushed murmurs of The Director’s “innocent mistake” spread soundlessly like an inside secret within the Palace's walls. It wasn't news that the Jester adored you, but to witness the typically collected Pierro clear his throat bashfully, while you stood there timidly after correcting his mistake was endearing. 

These rumors, of course, reached the ears of the 3rd of the Fatui Harbingers’ ears, Columbina. Such tales were her delight, a personal pastime, relishing the timid nature of your private relationship with Pierro. She just had to tease you two by reminding him of the incident. Thus, one day, she approached The Jester in his office on an inconspicuous day and asked:

“Oh, cheer up, Director. It's been months since your last mishap. Surely you wouldn't let your composure shatter in front of the one you call beloved so easily?”

“You are correct,” - Pierro replied to the Dove calmly. “It was a mistake. Hence, I amended it and made sure it's no longer an issue.”

That’s when Columbina’s gaze drifted to his hands, where he was not leisurely adjusting his cuffs but subtly displaying an ornament on his ring finger. His engagement ring. If the 3rd Harbinger could open her enigmatic eyes, she would stare absolutely wide-eyed and dumbfounded through her white ribbons. When the hell did he get engaged-?!

“Pierro, dear,” - you suddenly stepped in, that same embarrassed interjection escaping you “Please stop boasting about our engagement. We haven't made it official yet.” 

✧ The poor Fatui soldier under Il Capitano's recruit stood stiffly looking at their Harbinger. Was it dread or the web of discomfort one feels when seeing a couple argue over something entirely beyond their input? Because that's certainly what the current Fatui skirmisher felt when standing between you and Il Capitano. 

“I can't allow this, Capitano,” – you huffed, your head shaking in dismay. “You over-dedicate yourself in battles.” 

“We went over this, my cherished. I have to, it is my duty as the Captain. Not just for the Fatui’s sake, but for your own safety as well!” 

“No, no,” – you clicked your tongue. “Don’t give me that. You know that's not the issue… the issue is that you overwork yourself by beating everyone in a duel and not leaving me anything else to defeat! What am I supposed to do?!”

“But my beloved-!” 

That's how your lover's quarrel underwent, and the Fatui Skirmishers that kept blinking in disbelief, stood helpless as the argument ping-ponged between ‘who gets to defeat more enemies on the battlefield’. Finally, your beloved spoke with an irritated huff at your scolding:

“Well, did you perhaps consider that I do not wish for my spouse to overextend themselves and get recklessly injured over some personal records?”

“Oh, so now you-... What did you just call me?” 

The sudden realization caused a deafening silence between you and Capitano like a blade poised to strike. His pitch-black visage did not help to decipher whether he was grappling with his mistake or masking his shock. You insisted: “Capitano, what did you just call-”

“I did not say anything.” 

“You did, you…Hey-! Don't turn your back on me, come back here!” 

Perhaps The 1st of the Fatui Harbingers does not flee from a challenge like a pathetic coward. However, today was a great chance to use a tactful retreat, to put it softly, all in the hopes of escaping your wrath. How else would he explain his mishaps of calling you his ‘spouse’ so casually? If he confessed that he thought “it sounds so befitting for my one and only” he might as well just reveal every tender plan of a quiet life with you. And he can't have you teasing his affection for a domestic life alongside you. 

For now, fleeing was a wise and honorable choice, especially when you are ready to duel him any moment now.

✧ It was another one of those days in Il Dottore's lab. His fingers tap the surface of the table, chin resting on his palm, while a pen balanced precariously behind his ear. Delegating his final tasks for today, he supervised some final organizational matters in the lab while addressing some lab assistants with his usual air of nonchalant authority.

“Ensure all the surgical sets are properly sanitized and checked in the ultrasonic cleaner. I expect them neatly arranged by day’s end. My spouse prefers the equipment organized this way.”

One of the lab assistants stopped in their tracks, staring at him. 

“And don't inform them how some glassware shattered today. It would be irrelevant for them to worry…”

Mumbling to himself, Dottore only now realized that his lab assistants fell eerily silent, staying motionless as they blinked at him. Humming in confusion, he turned his attention at last, only to realize these unfortunate listeners were not gawing at him, but rather someone behind him.

Lo and behold, you stood there, behind him.

With a hand on your hip, you inquired with deceptive simplicity: “Oh? You have a spouse, dear?”

He pretends he wasn't aware of the conundrum and the absurdity of his slip-up. But even with his eyes covered behind that smooth black mask covering his eyes, you can see the haughty expression on his lips. Thus, he crossed his arms.

“Hm, Perhaps. You could say I do.”

“Then my condolences to your spouse. They must have the patience of a saint.”

The Doctor’s assistant had to repress their little chuckles. The tense atmosphere of the laboratory would always be dismissed with your ease, as you’d knowingly nod to Dottore’s colleagues and allow them to leave you two alone. Not even Dottore’s stern attitude would interfere otherwise, even if he tried to conceal his flustered composure at your mere words: “Well perhaps they are a saint, but also a handful for me to deal with.”

“Well, your hypothetical spouse is telling you it's late already and you should take a break for today.”

Conceding to your playful banter, The harbinger’s shoulders loosened up, a rare smile gracing him as he followed you with a wrapped arm around your shoulder. Your victory is marked by your knowing smile and Dottore would not object or conceal his infatuation by referring to you as his spouse. Even if he denies the marital titles as nothing but superficial formalities, he’d walk with you back to your shared personal quarters mumbling:

“Spouse’s orders it is, then.”

✧ It happened during a busy moment when Pantalone and you were at a tailor shop. After much persuasion that lasted weeks, your beloved succeeded at finally dragging you to a luxurious tailoring workshop, where store attendants welcomed you both and helped take your measurements with utter refinement and class.

You stood still with your arms extended, while the attendants did their swift duty with a measuring tape. In the mirror’s reflection before you, you caught sight of Pantalone standing a few steps away, his hand resting thoughtfully against his chin.

“Perhaps an elegant new blazer, white with golden accents?”

You remained still, looking absent-mindedly at the array of fabrics on display. “Dear, there is no need for every piece of clothing to look like it was made for a soirée. I am perfectly fine with a casual cotton blazer.”

The shop attendant closest to you stepped close with some swatches of fabrics to choose from, offering a polite smile. However, Pantalone had to shake his head and charmingly declare – “Oh, nonsense, my spouse deserves only the highest quality and looks when it comes to tailor-made pieces. Excuse me, may I inspect the catalogs for fabrics?”

With a polite nod, the shop assistant did not question the Harbinger or your baffled expression at the sudden choice of words. She was already moving around: “Most certainly, sir. I am sure you and your partner would love our available options. In fact, we also offer discounts for matching tailored ensembles for betrothed pairs if it's for a wedding or a honeymoon special.”

"Wait, wait… we are not-”

“Ah, wonderful,” Pantalone kept the same polite persona without missing a beat. However, the slight knowing smile did not go unnoticed as he glanced at you. “That will be excellent to keep in mind for the future."

What was promised as a quick visit to the tailor shop turned into Pantalone victoriously dragging you through multiple high-end workshops and analyzing the myriads of ‘honeymoon and wedding’ offers when it came to tailor-made clothes. And you, of course, could only gape at him while he kept that ever-charming grin.

“Pantalone, honey, we are not looking into engagement accessories. We are not married.”

“Oh? We are not?” - He feigned innocence and tilted his head. “Hehe, oops.”

✧ When Tartaglia made his way back with his men to Snezhnaya, the fuzzy white snow provided a stark white contrast to the shedding blood on the ground. Clear ruby red droplets stained the cool white terrain after the Harbinger’s successful expedition. 

“Lord Harbinger Tartaglia,” – a Pyro Agent approached, bowing in recognition. “Our reports are in. The site is clear; all abyssal monstrosities have been eliminated.”

Yet Childe was far from tranquil. The rush of battle was still hot in his blood, his hydro dual blades clutched tightly in his hands. Another mission dispelling any filth at the outskirts of Snezhnaya may be mundane for some Fatui skirmishers, yet for a man like Childe, this was his warm-up. 

“Ha… not bad. We finished much earlier today. And here I suspected this would take a whole day.” 

The Pyro Agent nodded – “Yes, sir, indeed. Judging by estimation, our troop would be back to the city by nightfall.”

“...Hold on, nightfall?” 

Suddenly, Tartaglia froze as if a deep culmination dawned on him. The confirmation from his subordinates did not quell his sudden shock. In mere seconds, all his battle rush and thrill of danger vanished before Tartaglia whipped around and exclaimed loudly to his men: 

“Teucer’s theater performance at school is today! My spouse is gonna kill me!” 

Without further words or thought, the Harbinger literally turned and sprinted as far as the horizon could see, leaving his subordinates baffled. Teucer? Spouse? This young Harbinger was married? 

“What… is he on about? I didn't know our lord Harbinger was married,” - the Pyro Agent mumbled, looking into the distance where the figure of a sprinting young man vanished off comically. An Anemoboxer Vanguard stepped nearby, adjusting his gauntlets. “I am pretty sure he isn't. It could be a family member.”

“Then who is the spouse…?” 

The Fatui colleagues exchanged shrugs before the other remembered – “Ah, could be his partner. Remember, they sometimes come to visit when he's training?”

“Oh, then definitely them.” – the two men stared off in the direction Tartaglia had gone, the bizarre image of their superior, so consumed by his bloodlust moments ago, suddenly halting everything to rush home for some kid’s theater performance. And accidentally calling his sweetheart his spouse would be hard to forget.

“Wanna bet he won't make it in time and his ‘spouse’ would teach him a lesson?” 

[neunnnnnnn]

Meeting a homeless shifter

I was at a local park the other day, having a solo date when a man approached me, I was cautious at first and was gathering my stuff because I didn't want to deal with any negativity that day but he ended up stopping me and telling me that he means no harm and ofc I wasn't going to believe him, but I did have this feeling that he wasn't violent?

Anyway I put my stuff down and he sits across from me and I offer him a burger that I had bought and he refuses it so I'm like "huh? How comes" then he goes on to explain to me that he's vegan........ And I'm like HELL NAUR😭 this has to be satire, so I point blank tell him not to piss me off because I was not in the mood. Then he goes on to explain to me that he's actually not lying, so I ask him how comes?! Cause like...... I didn't want to be rude but cmonnnn😭

He laughs telling me that he was vegan before he was homeless and has maintained it even after. I also tell him that I have been interested in turning vegan for sometime and I had been meditating, which made him light up and he excitingly tells me that he also meditates and does OBE, so I'm like.... OH is he lying or is he actually saying the truth, so I ask him some questions and he indeed does know A LOT about it.

I gather up the courage to ask him about shifting because👀.... Most people that are spiritual don't believe in it. And he says HE KNOWS ABOUT IT! So I'm like there is no way, he knows about it and he's homeless right?😭. Anyway he goes to explain that he's shifted before but he mostly astral projects, so that's where my question comes in....... how are you homeless and you can shift and do obe? He laughs saying that he can understand my confusion and that he has thought about leaving countless of times.

He looked sad for a sec and explains that he's kind off attached to this reality, which confuses me more so I ask him if it's because he's comfortable with his situation and he just shakes his head. So I'm now confused and I ask him what is it that would make him want to continue living like this when he literally has the power to change it.

I could see how ashamed he looked but he opened up explaining that he used to be abusive to his ex wife and was locked up for it and during his time in prison he was literally tormented with guilt and had "attempts" and that's how he actually shifted for the first time. He said after he "attempted" he woke up in another reality where he was a woman and he explained how everything felt extremely real and he even used his 5 senses to make sure it wasn't a lucid dream. After he got out he got the news that his wife passed away which destroyed him completely. So I ask why can't he shift to a reality where you know everything is okay. But he shakes his head saying that he wants to live out this life the way it is and that he doesn't want to run away from the problems that he caused. Atp I'm quiet because I genuinely have nothing to say but it did make me think of me of how I haven't permashifted because I am low-key attached to this reality and I feel like I want to "achieve" something before I actually go. I also shared my experiences with him and he tells me how lucky I am that I discovered it at such a young age and gives me some life advices that I weirdly have always wanted to hear from the people in my life.

It was honestly enlightening talking to him and I felt some kind of relief afterwards, I offered to buy him lunch but he refused saying that he's okay. I also showed him my blog😂 and he smiled saying that he liked it and thanked me for giving him the chance for us to talk.

There are some stuff that we also talked about but I can't remember them 😭

And I am grateful that I did stay to talk to him.

[ghstyles]

Together | His Angel

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Pairing: College!Yn x CrimeBossl!Harry

WC: 4.7k

Summary: Harry gets jealous of your project partner

His Angel Masterlist

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The first time Harry hears about Ethan, he manages to keep his expression neutral, but Y/N doesn't miss the slight tightening at the corners of his eyes.

"It's just a project for Developmental Psychology," she explains, curled against him on his obscenely expensive leather couch. "Six weeks, then it's done. Professor Romano paired everyone up randomly."

Harry's arm around her shoulders remains relaxed, but his voice carries an edge when he responds.

"Six weeks is a long time to spend with someone."

Y/N tilts her head up to look at him, amusement dancing in her eyes.

"Are you jealous?" she asks, not bothering to hide her smile. "Of a psychology major who wears the same Star Wars t-shirt three days a week?"

Harry scoffs, his fingers trailing absently along her arm.

"I don't get jealous, angel," he lies smoothly. "I just don't like sharing what's mine."

Y/N rolls her eyes, settling back against his chest.

"That's literally the definition of jealousy, Harry."

He makes a noncommittal sound, already calculating how to handle this unexpected development.

---

The first study session is scheduled for Wednesday afternoon at the campus library. Y/N arrives five minutes early, setting up her laptop and notes at a quiet corner table. When Ethan arrives, tall, lanky, with glasses and indeed wearing a Star Wars t-shirt, they quickly establish a good working rapport.

Forty minutes into their session, as they're outlining their research methodology, a hush falls over their section of the library. Y/N doesn't need to look up to know what's caused it.

"Sorry I'm late, angel," Harry's unmistakable British accent breaks the silence as he approaches their table, turning heads throughout the library.

He's dressed impeccably in a tailored charcoal suit that probably costs more than most students' semester tuition. His presence is commanding, deliberately intimidating, and entirely out of place among the casually dressed students.

Ethan looks up, confusion evident on his face as Harry pulls out a chair and sits directly beside Y/N, his arm casually draping across the back of her seat.

"Um, Y/N?" Ethan questions uncertainly.

Y/N shoots Harry a look that clearly says 'what are you doing?' before making reluctant introductions.

"Ethan, this is my boyfriend, Harry. Harry, this is Ethan, my project partner."

Harry extends his hand, his grip visibly tightening as they shake.

"Ethan," he says, the name sounding like an accusation. "Pleasure."

For the next hour, Harry remains silent but watchful, his eyes tracking every interaction between Y/N and Ethan. When Ethan explains a research concept, leaning slightly toward Y/N to point at her notes, Harry shifts closer to her, his fingers possessively stroking the back of her neck.

By the time they wrap up, Ethan is noticeably uncomfortable, stumbling over his words and avoiding eye contact with Harry.

"Same time Friday?" he asks Y/N hesitantly.

Before she can answer, Harry speaks:

"Actually, Y/N has plans Friday. You'll have to reschedule."

Y/N stiffens beside him.

"I don't have plans Friday," she corrects firmly, giving Harry a warning look. "Friday works fine, Ethan. Same time, same place."

The tension between them is palpable as they leave the library, waiting until they're in the privacy of Harry's car before Y/N confronts him.

"What the hell was that?" she demands.

Harry starts the engine, his expression unrepentant.

"Just wanted to meet this bloke you'll be spending so much time with," he says casually. "Make sure he understands the situation."

"The 'situation'?" Y/N repeats incredulously. "You mean that I have a possessive boyfriend who doesn't trust me?"

Harry's jaw tightens as he pulls out of the parking lot.

"I trust you," he says flatly. "It's him I don't trust."

Y/N sighs, some of her anger dissipating.

"Harry, he's just my project partner. He's not interested in me that way."

Harry glances at her, his expression making it clear he thinks she's being naive.

"Every man is interested that way when it comes to you," he states with absolute certainty.

Y/N can't help the small laugh that escapes her.

"That's ridiculous," she says, shaking her head. "And even if it were true, I'm not interested in anyone but you. You know that."

Harry's expression softens slightly as he reaches for her hand.

"I know," he acknowledges, bringing her fingers to his lips. "But I still don't like it."

Y/N squeezes his hand, thinking the matter resolved.

"It's just six weeks," she reminds him. "It'll be over before you know it."

---

Friday's study session goes ahead as planned, but Harry doesn't make an appearance. Y/N texts him afterward:

Thank you for giving me space today. Heading home now, want to come over later?

His response is immediate:

Already outside the library. Get in the car.

She spots his sleek black Audi idling by the curb, Harry leaning against it with his arms crossed. The sight of him, dangerous, beautiful, and unmistakably hers, still makes her breath catch, even after six months together.

"Were you waiting the whole time?" she asks as she approaches.

Harry straightens, pulling her against him for a kiss that's far too possessive for a public space.

"Maybe," he admits when they break apart, not looking remotely embarrassed about it.

Y/N laughs, shaking her head as she gets into the car.

"You're impossible."

Harry slides into the driver's seat, his hand immediately finding her thigh.

"Yet you love me anyway."

His fingers trace higher, slipping beneath the hem of her skirt.

"Harry," she protests weakly, even as heat pools in her belly. "We're in the university parking lot."

His smile is wicked as he starts the car.

"Then I suggest we get home quickly."

They barely make it through her apartment door before he has her pressed against the wall, his mouth hot on her neck, hands already working her clothes off.

Hours later,, as they lie tangled in her sheets, Y/N glances at the clock and groans.

"I was supposed to meet Ethan again an hour ago to go over our research," she realizes, reaching for her phone. "I completely forgot."

Harry pulls her back against him, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

"Send him a text," he suggests, his lips brushing her shoulder. "Tell him something came up."

Y/N narrows her eyes, suspicion dawning.

"Did you do that on purpose?" she asks. "Make me late?"

Harry's innocent expression doesn't reach his eyes.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he says, his hand sliding down her naked back. "I was simply making love to my girlfriend."

Y/N pushes his wandering hand away, sitting up to look at him properly.

"Harry, this project is important. It's worth thirty percent of my grade."

He sits up as well, the sheet pooling around his waist.

"And I'm sure your partner can manage without you for one session," he points out, reaching for her again. "Come here."

Y/N allows herself to be pulled back into his arms, her irritation fading under his touch. But a seed of concern has been planted.

---

The pattern continues over the next three weeks. Harry doesn't crash every study session, but his presence remains a constant shadow over the project. He appears unexpectedly at the coffee shop where they're working. He calls with "emergencies" that pull Y/N away early. He schedules romantic dinners that conflict with planned research time.

And then there's the morning Y/N finds him scrolling through her laptop while she's in the shower.

"What are you doing?" she asks, tightening the towel around her body.

Harry doesn't even look guilty, continuing to read through her project notes.

"Just checking your progress," he says casually. "This Ethan doesn't seem to be contributing much."

Y/N strides across the room, closing the laptop firmly.

"That's because you're only seeing my draft notes," she says, her patience wearing thin. "Ethan does plenty of work. And even if he didn't, that's between him and me, not you."

Harry leans back in his chair, studying her with narrowed eyes.

"You're defending him."

"I'm stating facts," she corrects, frustration building. "Harry, this has to stop. You're interfering with my education."

He stands, approaching her with that predatory grace that normally makes her heart race but now just adds to her irritation.

"I'm looking out for you," he counters, his hands settling on her hips. "Making sure you're not being taken advantage of."

Y/N steps back, removing herself from his touch.

"The only person taking advantage right now is you," she says firmly. "Taking advantage of my feelings for you to control who I spend time with."

Harry's expression darkens.

"That's not what I'm doing."

"Isn't it?" Y/N challenges. "Then what would you call it?"

He doesn't answer immediately, his jaw working as he considers her question.

"Protection," he finally says. "I'm protecting what's mine."

Y/N's frustration boils over.

"I'm not a possession, Harry! I'm a person with my own life, my own goals, my own responsibilities."

"I know that," he insists, running a hand through his hair. "But you don't see how he looks at you."

"Even if that were true," Y/N argues, "it wouldn't matter because I love you. But you're so caught up in your jealousy that you can't see how ridiculous you're being."

Harry's expression hardens, his defensive walls slamming into place.

"Ridiculous?" he repeats coldly. "For wanting to keep other men away from my girlfriend?"

"For sabotaging my education!" Y/N exclaims. "For making me late to meetings, for intimidating my project partner, for acting like I can't be trusted to handle a simple academic assignment!"

They stare at each other, both breathing hard, neither willing to back down.

"I could get him removed from your class," Harry says suddenly, his voice deceptively calm. "One call to the dean, a generous donation to the psychology department—they'd transfer him to another section immediately."

Y/N stares at him in disbelief.

"Tell me you're joking," she says quietly.

The look in his eyes tells her he's absolutely serious.

"It would solve the problem," he points out.

"No, Harry, it would create a much bigger one," Y/N says, her voice tight with anger. "The problem isn't Ethan. The problem is that you think it's acceptable to use your power and influence to control my life."

Harry steps toward her, but she backs away again.

"I need you to leave," she says, her voice shaking slightly.

Something flickers in his eyes—surprise, hurt, anger—before his expression closes off completely.

"Fine," he says coldly, grabbing his jacket. "Call me when you're done playing student with your project partner."

The door slams behind him, leaving Y/N alone in the sudden silence of her apartment. She sinks onto the edge of her bed, still in just her towel, and allows the tears she's been holding back to fall.

---

Three days pass without contact from either side. Y/N throws herself into her project work, meeting with Ethan more frequently now that there are no interruptions. Harry buries himself in business, his mood so foul that even his most hardened men give him a wide berth.

On the fourth day, Y/N's phone rings as she's leaving campus. She almost doesn't answer when she sees Harry's name, but something compels her to accept the call.

"Hello?" she says cautiously.

There's a brief silence before his voice comes through, rougher than usual:

"I miss you."

Just three words, but they carry the weight of an apology he doesn't quite know how to give.

Y/N closes her eyes, fighting against the immediate softening she feels.

"I miss you too," she admits. "But that doesn't fix anything."

"I know," he acknowledges, surprising her. "Can I see you? Please?"

The 'please' catches her off guard. Harry rarely asks for anything—he commands, he takes, he arranges. But he doesn't plead.

"Okay," she agrees after a moment. "My place, one hour."

---

When she opens her door to him, the first thing she notices is how tired he looks. There are shadows under his eyes, and his normally immaculate appearance shows subtle signs of neglect. It's the way his hair is less than perfectly styled, his stubble slightly heavier than he usually allows.

They stand looking at each other for a long moment before Harry breaks the silence:

"I behaved like a jealous asshole."

Y/N raises her eyebrows, not expecting such a direct admission.

"Yes, you did," she agrees, but steps back to let him enter.

He moves past her into the apartment, turning to face her once she's closed the door.

"I've never done this before," he says abruptly.

"Done what? Apologize?" Y/N asks, crossing her arms.

Harry shakes his head slightly.

"Been in love," he clarifies, the words coming with difficulty. "Had something I couldn't control through money or power or fear."

Y/N's expression softens slightly, but she remains firm.

"That's not an excuse, Harry."

"I'm not offering excuses," he says, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I'm trying to explain. Poorly."

He takes a deep breath, visibly struggling with vulnerability.

"In my world, anything valuable is a target," he continues. "You protect what matters by any means necessary. But I applied those rules to you, to us, and I was wrong."

Y/N watches him carefully, hearing the sincerity in his voice.

"I don't need your protection from a harmless psychology student," she points out gently.

Harry's laugh is short and without humor.

"I know that. Logically, I know that. But seeing you with him..." He trails off, jaw tightening. "I hated it. I still hate it."

Y/N steps closer, but maintains enough distance to keep the conversation serious.

"You have to trust me, Harry. Not just say you do, but actually trust me."

"I do trust you," he insists, reaching for her hands. "It's everyone else I don't trust."

"That's the same thing," she argues, allowing him to take her hands but keeping her tone firm. "If you trust me, you trust my judgment. You trust that I can handle myself around other people without you interfering."

Harry looks down at their joined hands, his thumbs tracing circles on her skin.

"I don't know how to do this," he admits quietly. "I don't know how to love someone without trying to control everything around them."

The raw honesty in his voice breaks through Y/N's remaining anger. She steps closer, one hand moving to touch his face.

"You learn," she says simply. "We both learn. This is new for me too, Harry. Being with someone like you. It's not exactly covered in Dating 101."

A small smile tugs at his lips.

"I imagine not."

Y/N's expression turns serious again.

"But I need you to promise me something."

Harry nods, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Anything."

"No more interfering with my studies. No more intimidating Ethan. No more 'coincidental' appearances at our study sessions. And absolutely no calls to the dean."

Harry's jaw works as he considers her demands, his instincts warring with his desire to make things right.

"Two more weeks," he says finally. "Then the project is done."

"And then there will be another class, another project, another study partner," Y/N points out. "This isn't a one-time issue, Harry. This is about how we move forward together."

Harry pulls her closer, his forehead resting against hers.

"I'm trying," he murmurs. "I'm not good at this, but I'm trying."

"I know," she acknowledges, her hands sliding up to his shoulders. "That's why I'm still here."

He kisses her then, gentle at first but quickly deepening with the intensity of four days apart. When they finally break apart, both breathing heavily, Harry speaks against her lips:

"I love you. More than I thought possible."

Y/N smiles, her fingers tangling in his hair.

"I love you too. Even when you're being a possessive jerk."

Harry's laugh is genuine this time, his arms tightening around her waist.

"I'll work on that," he promises.

"You'd better," she warns, but there's no real threat in her tone. "Because next semester I'm taking Abnormal Psychology, and I hear the professor likes to assign group projects."

Harry groans, burying his face in her neck.

"You're going to be the death of me, angel."

Y/N laughs, pulling back to look at him.

"But what a way to go, right?"

His answering smile is predatory as he lifts her, carrying her toward the bedroom.

"Right," he agrees, kicking the door shut behind them. "Now, let me show you exactly how much I missed you."

She giggles, wrapping her legs around him and burying her face into his neck, kissing the apex of his jaw, “I hate fighting with you by the way” she murmurs in between kisses

Harry carries her to the bed with practiced ease, his strong hands gripping her thighs as he lowers them both onto the mattress. He stays above her, his weight supported on his forearms as he looks down at her with an intensity that still makes her breath catch even after all these months.

"Fighting with you is fucking terrible," he agrees, his voice low and rough with emotion. "Three days without you...I nearly lost my mind."

His fingers thread through her hair, cradling the back of her head as he studies her face like he's memorizing it all over again.

"Marco said they were taking bets on who I'd kill first," he admits with a hint of dark humor. "Apparently I'm even more of a bastard when you're not around."

Y/N's hands slide up his chest to rest on either side of his face, her thumbs tracing the sharp lines of his cheekbones.

"Poor Marco," she teases softly. "Did anyone survive your bad mood?"

Harry turns his head slightly to kiss her palm, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Barely," he murmurs against her skin. "Joey made the mistake of asking if we'd broken up. Nearly broke his fucking jaw."

Y/N's expression turns more serious, her fingers gentling against his face.

"We're not going to break up over this," she assures him, understanding the fear that likely fueled his anger. "We're going to figure it out together."

A shadow passes over Harry's face, vulnerability showing for just a moment before he masks it with desire.

"I meant what I said," he tells her, his voice dropping lower. "I don't know how to do this. Everyone I've ever..." He pauses, searching for the right words. "Everyone I've ever cared about has either left or been taken from me. And then you came along, and suddenly I had something—someone—I couldn't bear to lose."

Y/N feels the weight of his confession, understanding how difficult it is for him to express these feelings.

"I'm not going anywhere," she promises, pulling him down for a gentle kiss that quickly deepens with need.

Harry groans against her mouth, his control slipping as his body presses more firmly against hers. When they break apart, both breathing heavily, his eyes have darkened with hunger.

"I need you," he says simply, the words carrying more meaning than just physical desire.

Y/N responds by tugging at his shirt, helping him pull it over his head before her hands explore the familiar landscape of his chest and abdomen. Her fingers trace the scars that mark his skin, some from childhood, others from his dangerous life, each one a chapter in the story of the complicated man above her.

"I need you too," she whispers, arching up to kiss a particularly jagged scar near his collarbone that was the result of a knife fight when he was seventeen, he'd told her one night after they'd made love.

Harry's hands make quick work of her clothes, practiced fingers unhooking her bra and sliding her jeans down her legs until she's left in just her panties. He pauses then, sitting back on his heels to look at her, spread out beneath him.

"Fucking beautiful," he murmurs, his accent thickening as it always does when he's aroused. "Every time I see you like this, I can't believe you're mine."

Y/N reaches for his belt, her fingers working the buckle.

"I am yours," she confirms, watching his eyes darken further at her words. "Just like you're mine."

Harry helps her remove his remaining clothes, then settles back between her legs, his skin hot against hers. His mouth finds her neck, teeth grazing the sensitive spot below her ear that always makes her gasp.

"Say it again," he demands softly, his hand sliding between their bodies to cup her through her panties.

Y/N's back arches at his touch, her nails digging into his shoulders.

"I'm yours, Harry," she breathes, feeling him hard against her thigh. "Only yours."

His fingers push aside the fabric, finding her already wet for him. A satisfied growl rumbles in his chest.

"Did you miss me, angel?" he asks, circling her clit with agonizing slowness. "Did you think about me while we were apart?"

Y/N moans as he slides a finger inside her, her hips lifting to meet his hand.

"Every night," she admits, her voice breaking as he adds a second finger, stretching her deliciously. "I couldn't sleep without you."

Harry's mouth claims hers in a bruising kiss as his fingers continue their torment, building her pleasure with practiced skill. When he breaks the kiss, his eyes are almost black with desire.

"I couldn't either," he confesses, his voice strained with the effort of maintaining control. "Haven't slept more than a few hours since I walked out that door."

His fingers withdraw, making Y/N whimper at the loss. He hooks his thumbs in her panties, dragging them down her legs before positioning himself between her thighs, the head of his cock pressing against her entrance.

"Look at me," he commands softly, waiting until her eyes meet his before continuing. "I love you, Y/N. More than anything in this fucked-up world."

The raw emotion in his voice makes her heart swell. She reaches up to touch his face, her eyes never leaving his.

"I love you too, Harry. All of you. Even the difficult parts."

Something in his expression breaks open at her words, and he pushes into her in one smooth thrust, both of them gasping at the sensation of being joined again after days apart.

"Fuck, I missed you," he groans, stilling for a moment to savor the feeling of her around him.

Y/N wraps her legs around his waist, drawing him deeper.

"Show me," she challenges, rolling her hips against his.

Harry's control snaps. He begins to move with powerful thrusts that have her clutching at his back, her nails leaving crescent marks in his skin. There's an edge of desperation to their lovemaking. A need to reclaim each other after their first serious fight.

"Mine," he growls against her neck, his pace relentless. "Say it."

"Yours," Y/N gasps, feeling the familiar tension building inside her. "I'm yours, Harry. Always."

His hand slides between them again, his thumb finding her clit as his thrusts grow more erratic.

"Come for me, angel," he demands, his voice rough with exertion. "Let me feel you."

The combination of his words, his touch, and the delicious friction of his cock pushing deep inside her sends Y/N over the edge. She cries out his name as her orgasm washes over her, her body clenching around him.

Harry follows moments later, burying himself to the hilt as he comes with a guttural groan of her name. He collapses beside her, immediately pulling her against his chest, their bodies still joined.

They lie tangled together, breathing heavily, neither willing to move or break the connection. Harry's fingers trace lazy patterns on her back as their heartbeats gradually slow.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs against her hair, the words clearly difficult for him. "For being such a jealous prick."

Y/N lifts her head to look at him, her expression soft but serious.

"I need you to trust me, Harry. Not just say it, but really trust me."

Harry tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, his eyes searching hers.

"I do trust you," he says earnestly. "It's just..." He sighs, struggling to articulate his feelings. "In my world, showing any weakness can get you killed. And you, Y/N, you're the biggest weakness I've ever had."

Y/N's heart aches at his admission, understanding what it costs him to be this vulnerable.

"Love isn't weakness," she tells him gently. "It takes more strength to open yourself up to someone than it does to push everyone away."

Harry's laugh is soft and without humor.

"Tell that to my father," he says darkly. "Man beat that lesson into me before I could even tie my own shoes."

Y/N kisses him softly, her hands cradling his face.

"Your father was wrong," she says firmly. "About so many things, but especially about that."

Harry pulls her closer, burying his face in her neck as if seeking refuge from memories he rarely discusses.

"I'm trying," he murmurs against her skin. "For you, I'm trying to be...better."

"I know," Y/N assures him, her fingers threading through his hair. "And that's all I'm asking for. Just try."

They lie in comfortable silence for a while, their bodies cooling in the aftermath of their passion. Eventually, Harry speaks again, his tone lighter:

"I may have already run a background check on Ethan."

Y/N props herself up on an elbow, staring down at him in disbelief.

"Harry!"

"What?" he defends, not looking remotely guilty. "Old habits. At least I didn't have him followed."

Y/N narrows her eyes.

"Did you consider it?"

Harry's silence is answer enough.

"Unbelievable," she mutters, flopping back onto the pillows.

"So, this Ethan bloke...he's really not your type?"

Y/N laughs, pinching his side gently.

"He wears Star Wars t-shirts and lives with his mother," she reminds him. "Besides, I seem to have a thing for dangerous men with British accents and too many trust issues."

Harry rolls them suddenly so she's beneath him again, his expression mock-serious.

"Good," he says, lowering his head to kiss her collarbone. "Because I'd hate to have to make him disappear."

Y/N stiffens slightly, pulling back to look at him.

"Harry..."

He meets her gaze, his eyes softening as he reads her concern.

"I'm joking, angel," he assures her, kissing the tip of her nose. "Mostly."

Y/N narrows her eyes, but there's no real anger in her expression.

"Harry Styles, I swear to god—"

He cuts her off with a kiss, his hands sliding down to grip her hips.

"I promise not to touch your precious study partner," he says when they break apart. "But I make no promises about not touching you."

His hand slips between her legs again, finding her still sensitive from their lovemaking.

"In fact," he continues, his voice dropping to that seductive rumble that never fails to make her shiver, "I plan to touch you quite thoroughly for the rest of the night. To make up for lost time."

Y/N's protest dies on her lips as his fingers begin to move with purpose, her body responding instantly to his skilled touch.

"That's cheating," she gasps, her head falling back against the pillows.

Harry's smile is pure sin as he begins to kiss his way down her body.

"All's fair in love and war, angel," he murmurs against her stomach. "And making up is definitely my favorite part of fighting with you."

Y/N can't help but laugh despite herself.

"You're impossible," she says, the words carrying no heat.

"Yet you love me anyway," he reminds her, echoing his words from weeks before.

Y/N looks at him, this dangerous, difficult, complicated man who is trying, in his own flawed way, to be better for her, and feels her heart swell.

"I do," she confirms softly. "God help me, I really do."

As his mouth reaches its destination between her thighs, Y/N decides that further discussion about boundaries and jealousy can wait until morning. Right now, she's perfectly content to let Harry demonstrate exactly how sorry he is—in the most delicious way possible.

· · ─────────── ·· ────────── · ·

Taglist: @silastylesswift @babegoals @harryssunflower17 @puzio19 @goldensunflowerss-blog @drewrry @tinawritesstuff @dipmeinhoneyh @spinninc @harrystyleshotwife @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @estaticheart @harrysguccihandbag @mads3502 @harrydeary @valuunit @myfavfanficsever @lunaharrygurl @prettygurl-2009

[henneseyhoe]

Sunshine

Aaron Pierre x BLACK!FEM!Reader

ORDER:Coffee (Smut) Tea (Fluff), Strawberry Cheesecake (Hair Pulling) , Jelly Filled Donut (Creampie) , Vanilla Beignet (Blind To Love) and a Brownie (Sunny vs Grumpy) served by Terry Richmond.

SUMMARY: Shitty jobs are made worth it cause pretty, funny girls exist!(ig idk chile)

The Bakery<3

✮✮✮✮

“How the hell do you deal with that?”

Was what people would ask Terry when they saw you two together. You were loud, anyone could hear your laugh from miles away and your smile radiated bright happiness that annoyed most, especially in your field of work. You were enthusiastic about nearly everything, seeing the bright side to dark situations that some just couldn’t bear. Maybe that’s why Terry held onto you the way he did. He even gave you the nickname ’Sunshine’ to show.

Everything that was listed, he indeed was not. He was not happy go lucky, he was not enthusiastic about things he had to do and he definitely wasn’t looking on the bright side, for reasons that could probably be justified.

When he was happy, it was mostly because of you. You were best friends (or he was definitely YOUR best friend) and working together in close proximity made it so much easier for Terry to get use to you. It was hard for Terry not to crack a smile when you were constantly in a good mood, bouncing off the walls. You found the spots in him that were soft and poked at them until he gave in, you learned his humor and kept him laughing when he didn’t want to.

He couldn’t lie, he was growing accustomed to being with you, he could even say he loved having you around (he would probably never say that out loud) . He just couldn’t help but feel a little warmth in his chest when you were near, butterflies in his stomach when you made eye contact with him. Little did he know, you felt the same.

Your heart beat down on your rib cage faster than it was on your first mission. You loved a challenge, and Terry was exactly that, testing your abilities to be professional, dangerous, light on your feet, but also keeping your brand of being the happy person you were.

Whenever Terry came into work, even if it was just to train, you were up in his face cracking jokes like you hadn’t just ran two miles. Of course because he was a rank higher than you, he use to send you on about your way the first few times, a little annoyed with your presence and attitude until realizing he couldn’t get rid of you even if he tried. You were everywhere and the crew was slowly growing a liking to you too.

You were like a leech, as he would describe. A cuddly and cute one, but a leech nonetheless.

Coming up on the date of the official homecoming for soldiers, it was time to head back to your respective states and you offered Terry a day to spend with just the two of you, enjoying the scenery of downtown and all it had to offer..as friends, Which he accepted after a huff (which was obviously faked, his ass was happy you asked) . Somehow, Terry found himself not wanting to leave when night had came. Something he had NEVER felt before, and he hated it. He hated that he knew it was because of you too, nothing else. Hell, he didn’t even like the state he was in, he was ready to go when he landed.

Babysitting a beer in your hand, you two sit close around the fireplace of your apartment, or what was yours till tomorrow.

“Feel like we been here forever” He breaks the silence, sipping on his drink while staring at the flicker of the fire in front of you both.

You shrug.

“It kinda has been? Seven months, two weeks, five days, and 21 hours is a long time!” You nod, Terry giving you a look before stifling out the chuckle he tried so hard not to free. You smile, satisfied at how easy it was to make him laugh now.

“So!…You ready to go home to the missus?”

Terry raises a brow, swallowing the bitter drink in his mouth. “Missus?”

You hum, waiting for an answer, but he never confirmed.

“Yeah. I mean, you never said anything about a wife or a kid, but I just assumed-“

“Never said because I don’t have” He interrupts, laughing. He couldn’t even imagine what about him gave husband. He didn’t wear a ring, on the right finger at least, and he thought the flirting he did confirmed him to be single already..Or what he thought was flirting. The making sure you ate and drank every day and teasing about how many push ups you could do didn’t really connect the dots for you. You were looking for a more forward approach considering he was a blunt man.

“What the hell about me made you think I was married with a kid?”

You laugh along with him to save yourself the embarrassment. Truthfully, you asked on purpose to see if he was single or not. To your surprise, no one had snatched him up yet.

“I-…I don’t know. I just see a nigga like you and just expect it” You respond, the palms of your hands already sweating. Your body was once again defying you, you felt like you were in highschool again.

Terry’s laugh shrunk until it was no more and his eyebrows rose at your statement. “A nigga like me?”

“…Yeah. Ya know…” You trail off, shyly looking away. By now regret had already set in your stomach for bringing up shit and snooping in his business. It would have been easier to search his name in the database and read his files, keeping your stalker shit on the low.

“Hm…Elaborate, sunshine. I wanna know what that mean” He presses, his squinted eyes searching for yours, but you refused to give in and see what may have been rejection.

“Look” You huff, shaking your head. “I just mean…You are a very handsome man, and I expected you to be…spoken for? Can you even say spoken for when talking about a man?”

You both laugh, but tension was still thick in the air, you just didn’t know what kind of tension it would turn to. Whether sexual or awkward tension, your nerves were getting worse by the second.

Terry on the other hand seemed cool as a cucumber, his tongue subtly tracing the rim of his beer bottle as he thought to himself before taking his last drink, finishing the beverage off.

“I don’t think so, but still. I appreciate that…so”

“So…”

He tilts his head. You could see it all from your peripheral view. His strong presence demanded attention from you. It was like that while working and it happened to never change outside of it.

“You aren’t spoken for?” He asks, his shoulder softly bumping yours to pull an answer quicker.

You shake your head, simultaneously setting down your bottle.

“Not since a year ago. Maybe if it was possible to pack a niggas dick with you when you leave for work, it wouldn’t be inside your bestfriend, right?”

“…You shittin’ me?” He leans, almost shocked that anyone would dare to cheat on you. Not only because of the person you were on the inside, but also because you could be classified as a high threat even while ass naked. That’s just the type of woman he wouldn’t cross, even at his rank.

“Nope, deadass”

“Damn..” He mumbles. “Whatever nigga out here silly enough to let little miss sunshine walk the earth without being right behind her need his ass beat. Shit, i’ll do it for you actually”

You giggle. “You’re silly”

“Nah, I’m serious”

Who knew that conversation alone would end with you getting ate out by someone you considered a friend, someone who you looked up to just a little, someone who just admitted he’d fuck somebody up for you…maybe giving it up was justifiable.

On the couch with your legs spread to each side, you forced yourself to open your eyes and bask in reality as Terry began the journey of taking you apart and putting you back together again. He placed soft kisses around your lips and on your clit before he licked long strings from your entrance, then sucked, earning a soft gasp from you.

His hands gripped your thick thighs while holding them apart, his strength not allowing you to hide from him at all. He wanted to taste all you had to offer, his tongue doing all the hard work slithering inside of your warm walls as his nose nudged your clit. You tensed up with every nudge, watching as he freely put his face in it. He made it messy enough to admire when he pulled his mouth off of you, your pussy glistening like he just doused you in oil.

“Look at that, mmm” There was a grumble that came deep from within his throat. His green eyes on you made it so hard not to be bothered even with him not doing anything, your poor clit jumping with excitement as he spread your lips open.

“She happy to see me, huh?”

You moan and nod eagerly, bringing your hand to your mouth to suck on a finger. Terry smiles at that, sharp teeth flashing from under his lips. He just wanted to bite you all over.

“Yeah, I know. When the last time you had some?”

“I-I don’t remember” And you truly couldn’t. Nothing worth remembering.

“Yeah? Imma make sure you remember this shit” He ends off with a bite to your thigh, almost as if he was warning you for what’s to come before he dove back into your heat, slurping up your soaked clit. Your belly was doing summersaults, you could barely contain your volume. It seemed Terry didn’t care about his.

When he ate, he made noise. He moaned, grunted, groaned. He was having just as much fun as you.

Your legs had began to shake the longer he was down there, your hands gripping onto the top of his white tank since that was all you had to hold on to after he practically ripped your oversized shirt off of you beforehand, and you feared ruining the couch if you got to pulling on it.

“Yes, yes, yes! I’m so close” You struggled to keep your eyes on him even with his staring back up at you, low lidded and dark. They beckoned you to stay, but pleasure had came rolling through like natural disaster and wiped all thought from your brain, leaving you a shaking, blubbering mess.

His mouth pulled off of you and his hand moved in place of it, rubbing your clit in tight circles.

“Feel it, baby. Let it happen” He coos as you fight against his hand, thighs closing around his wrist which he just smacked away and kept at it until he felt he was done.

“Stop moving, let that shit happen, baby”

You felt like you were literally about to float to heaven, back arching up off of the couch just to get away from the overstimulation.

“Okay! Fuck!”

He moves his hand and allows you to go through the motions, twitching until that special feeling left your center. “Good job, pretty girl” A kiss from him was placed beside your opened mouth as heavy breathing left you.

He gave you time to recover while undressing himself, items of clothing fluttering to the ground until he was in nothing but his shorts.

Your eyes never left his length as it bobbed out of the bottoms. You hadn’t even noticed there was nothing under the shorts till now..So all of that print you were eyeing was all him. He was nothing little, nothing that you had ever seen before and it almost made you ask if that was all of it, hoping he had added something extra, if possible. You wanted to taste him, to lick up the dribbling precum from his tip and test if you could take him in your mouth first, but Terry desperately wanted to be inside you. You protested, pulling him in and stroking his shaft to solicit him into going your way, but he was stern, nearly completely ignoring your advances and lifting you to your feet.

You yelped, legs wobbly from your first orgasm, but you had no need to worry about falling because you were lifted off of your feet as fast as you got on them.

“D-don’t drop me!”

You begged, holding onto him while he bounced you to catch you in the right position to fuck you good, your legs swinging over his arms and his hands cupping your soft ass.

“I gotchu, baby”

He reassured as he kisses your lips. You could smell and taste yourself all on him, slightly sweet and herbal from the beer. All while sucking on his tongue, you felt the tip of him swipe against your entrance, your heart beating so hard in your chest that you were convinced he could hear it, and it was the same for him. He couldn’t wait to feel you, to be connected in other ways than just conversation and friendship. He longed to know what it would be like, and when he got a taste, there was no turning back from then on. Not that he would want to, anyway.

There was no way you were getting away from him. You were strong, but Terry was strong. The man trained relentlessly and always being on his toes payed off at work and apparently in the bedroom too.

Your thighs ached with a burning sensation as he bounced you on his long dick effortlessly, the tip of him kissing your cervix ever so slightly, but he knew good enough not to hit it dead on, fearing hurting you in the process. You appreciate the thoughtfulness, seeing as you were already losing the part of your brain that made thought out decisions.

“So fucking deep!”

You cried out weakly, nails scratching down his broad shoulders, creating red streaks he’d try to hide with a long sleeve the morning after, the feeling of you still dancing on his tongue as he got dressed. He grunts, palms squeezing the fat of your ass as his pace never seemed to falter. He was determined to get you there. To feel you cum around his dick so hard that the neighbors would wonder if you were hurt, that they would think about calling the cops just to check on you.

“Cmon, baby. You a big girl, take this dick like I know you can” He encouraged you sweetly, voice unshaken and stable as if the ribbon of release in the pit of his stomach wasn’t threatening to come undone, spilling his seed deep inside of you.

It wasn’t long until he decided to change the position and lay you on your stomach instead, a soft pillow placed underneath your hips to make sure you could meet his height and your ass stayed up right for him. Before he entered back into your warmth, he took his time to spread your cheeks and licking up whatever your pussy had started to drip, earning whiny, pathetic mewls from you.

He licked from your clit to the winking rim of your asshole, the tip of his tongue circling around it before going back down to your sensitive bud, teasingly suckling on it softly.

You drooled into your sheets. You knew you looked so damn stupid right now, but you couldn’t help it with how he was turning you every way but loose.

“Taste so fucking good”

He says from behind you, fully standing now with a hand in your silk press and the other laid directly in the middle of your back to help that arch. He didn’t even have to guide his dick into you, you were so wet and open for him already that all he did was wind his hips back to line up with you and push forward.

You could swear your breath was being sucked out of your lungs with each inch he dropped into you. It felt so good that you could almost ignore him pulling on your hair, forcing your head back to meet him for a slow, nasty kiss.

“Fuck- My hair, Terry!” You whined against his plump lips, one of your hands reaching for his wrist, but the tugging only made it worse for you. The sharp stinging in your scalp oddly satisfied something within you, your clit twitching at the newfound feeling.

“Fuck it. I’ll pay for it” He grunts, his teeth tugging at the bottom of your lip.

You both kissed with teeth and all as he fucked you, your ass loudly clapping back on his toned body with every thrust. He felt every motion of it, the waves clashing with his hips so mesmerizing that he couldn’t help but wanna stare.

As he pulled away from your lips, he opted to grab a hold of your throat instead, your moans immediately getting caught.

He made sure to grab you by the part where it was safe to hold, safe enough to where you could still breathe a little, but still got the sensation to feel held.

“Why-“ You managed to choke out, yet you couldn’t finish a sentence.

He cracked an almost cocky smile then moaned out a curse, his dick violently throbbing inside of you and reaching beyond what you thought was gonna be his limit.

“Why what? Spit it out, ma” He teased, his low cut nails almost scratching up the side of your throat when his thrusts got more fluid, the man putting way more wine into every collision.

You began to cry out, him muffling them slightly by letting go of you and pushing your head down into the bed. He only fucked you harder when your arch fell with your hips, your legs giving out as your pussy cried right along with you.

This position had you feeling everything. From the tip of him grazing your gspot to the veins that traveled up his dick and massaged your walls, giving you texture that you never felt before.

Him demanding a word out of you was like speaking to a brick wall. You had already came without warning, now you were just wetting up the sheets with incoherent words spilling from your mouth. He imagined you fucked out under him like this plenty of times before but he never knew it’d feel and look this good.

“Shit! Keep doing that and imma cum” He warns, but that’s exactly what you wanted. You wanted to feel him fill you up to the point you were leaking. You began purposely clenching around him, the first squeeze prompting him to lay a smack on your ass, and the second one making his hips stutter against you. He could feel himself becoming lighter, a swirl of heat blooming in the bottom of his stomach.

“Nut in this pussy, baby. Let me feel it, please” You begged hopelessly, doing your best to keep a good hold on his dick until he released with a loud groan, grinding his hips into your ass. You could feel each and every spurt of his cum being released inside you, warmth and fullness is what laid in the bottom of your belly.

“Mmm, fuck” His hips bucked one last time before he was pulling out with a grunt, large hands gripped on your ass and spreading you apart to see what he had done to you.

“So pretty. Push it out” He demanded, and you abided by it, pushing his cum out of you until you no longer felt full.

✮✮✮✮

💌- I’m criiine, this was supposed to be a headcannon too- LMFAOAOA. and yall wonder why i take so long, lawd. i told yall, i cannot do shit right smh. Anyway! i hope you liked this, homegirl 😭 i also managed to get this out before my first college class so hallelujah! *does ring shout*. also this was the longest smut i wrote in a whiiile lmfao. a whole 3k+ words so yaaay! eb clap for henny and wish her luck on this class 😋

[dammit-tazmuir]

When you use @[urlname] it does give people a notification yeah, but I don't mind! I love seeing people inspired by my thoughts and sharing their own!

That said, of course she's allegorically trans. It's also possible that any Lyctor whose cavalier's gender didn't match their own will always end up at least a little nonbinary, too, so in that way, maybe she IS under the broader trans umbrella in addition to the more direct parts.

With the distinction of Resurrection and Rebirth, and Tamsyn's words that Nona is looking at the people around her wondering if they'll choose Rebirth, perhaps Pyrrha isn't simply a once cis woman now trapped in her male friend's body and looking to return to what she was. Perhaps she's a mostly-woman who's been rubbing souls with her male best friend for 10,000 years and now that she's fully out and in control, she's figuring out who she is now: what parts of her old gender she still feels connected to, what's changed, what's disappeared or been added over time, what her relationship with all these parts of herself are and how she wants to express them. Maybe the body she has now is wildly far away from how she would want to look, but her old body would be for the person she's become, too, and she's still in the process of figuring out what she does want. I think that'd be a neat way to have a unique yet resonant trans experience.

I've also said before here and there but I'll keep saying it. Pyrrha asked Palamedes if he could fix her face and he said it would be far too difficult for him to work on a body like hers, and it would hurt Camilla to try.

😎 But Paul should have no such limitations. We know a Lyctor can do longterm modification to another Lyctor's body, between Harrow growing Ianthe's custom arm and Ianthe cursing Harrow to ceaseless haircuts. It would be very surprising if Paul doesn't end up helping Pyrrha transition and make her body more her own in AtN, I'm just saying.

Let's talk about... Pyrrha Dve

So, firstly!!! I want to make it plain here that I am RAMBLING about a character I LOVE and while I'm going to TRY to keep things about them as close to canon as I possibly can - I am dumb, and I forget things!!!!!! Secondly; SPOILERS FOR Harrow the Ninth and Nona the Ninth!!!! Thirdly; I will be making grammatical errors and you will be dealing with them!!! (sorry!) Anyways, I absolutely ADORE (full-caps and bold too!) Pyrrha Dve, I think that there's FAR more to her than our beloathed (I kid) Tamsyn has outright stated! (refer to @dammit-tazmuir 's wonderful post here for a look at the Pyrrha-berg ) and I think she'll be pretty important in Alecto the Ninth! However, this post is less about how Pyrrha IS and more about how she FEELS to me. I'm very early on in my transition journey, poking myself with a needle and crying at stuff all the time... so when I started reading Nona the Ninth and saw all the care Tamysn had put into Pyrrha I started to have the thought that maybe --just maybe-- she'd been intended to be read as a Trans character. I kept reading (and talking to a friend about the books, 'cause that was fun!) and the more I learned about her the more the conviction built in me that she was Trans; well, not LITERALLY Trans. (She had a female body at one point, one that she sacrificed long ago... and maybe that sorta disqualifies her from it but that also sounds REALLY fucked up to me??? So I think she's fine, and can rep Trans pride whenever she wants.) Anyways. She's lived the past TEN THOUSAND YEARS in a male body (sounds familiar.), having to stare at the face of her half-dead best pal whenever she intermittently had control of him! I can hardly imagine a better metaphor for dysphoria... forced to stare at someone other than yourself, someone who you care for on some level (it's you, after all.) but you know it's not REALLY you or your body. It's just your soul looking out of eyes that hardly belong to you. Her insistence on shaving her facial hair and hair-hair, even though it was only mentioned a handful of times, it really spoke to me. I hate seeing anything on my face, and I hate the mop of hair that my body makes. When she asked Pal if he could zap the follicles out of her chin, jod (lol) I felt that. There's also like, just how emotional she can be... (not really a trans-thing but more a TD (that's me) thing.) which speaks to me on a personal level 'cause of all these stupid new feelings I have to deal with. And just like, a lot of her dialogue. I don't know, maybe it's wishful thinking and the desperate need for a role model transplanting my own experiences onto a fictional character! Whatever! It's my head canon, and I'll do what I want with it! Edit; I FORGOR TO TALK ABOUT PYRRHA AND WAKE!!!!!!!!!! I can't be the only one (and I'm sure I'm not) that thinks that Pyrrha and Wake were far more intimate than Wake and G1deon, right?! It seems like all signs are pointing towards it, like Wake only included G1deon by accident because she wasn't aware of what Lyctorhood actually was! I think maybe they even loved each other, in a fucked up and supremely toxic way. Maybe Pyrrha would've actually helped her had she been in charge of G1deon's body at the time. ALSO What Trans woman isn't in love with a crazy fucked up woman? (or man, or enby, or someone outside or in between it all) I'd fall for Wake too, Pyrrha says she's got a thing for "Landmine People"? Wake is a fucking NUCLEAR BOMB!!!! I'd betray my jod to sleep with her too, WOOF!

Thanks for Reading!!! (Or skipping to the end to yell at me!) Please let me know what you think in the quotes, and I'm sorry to dammit-tazmuir if I accidentally pinged them or something, I'm still learning how to use tumblr!

ONE LAST THING!!!!! I will throw myself on a fence and haunt Tamsyn as a revenant for all eternity if Griddlehark doesn't get a payoff, you have been WARNED!!!!!!!!

[homunculus-argument]

One of the most fun character concepts that I've had that I've never been able to fit into anything is The Most Appropriate Socialite Lady. Nobody dislikes her, but she is, indeed, very Appropriate, always seeming to do everything precisely to social etiquette, even according to social rules that nobody else knew were a thing. If there is a protocol to how to behave or respond in any given situation, no matter how obscure or how long ago it was that this was written down in some Refined Society Etiquette Book, she'll know it. So she is a bit old-fashioned sometimes, but not in a regressive way.

Every time there's a situation where nobody actually knows what the right way to respond would be, they quietly glance at her, because either she knows exactly how to handle this, or if the situation truly is without precedent, her educated guess of what should be done must be the right one. Someone might even write it down for a future etiquette book, of how This Most Polite Well-Mannered Lady responded to this awkward situation.

She doesn't judge people, and is never rude about people breaking Good Manner Rules on purpose (as pointing out someone doing so would be impolite), but the way she seems genuinely surprised and confused whenever someone breaks the protocol that nobody else might even been aware of makes people feel self-conscious or awkward sometimes. And she politely pretends to not notice that. She is very kind, very sweet, but also extremely Appropriate.

So even if this isn't a Victorian style gentlemanly "fine ladies are fragile and must be sheltered from the world"-style society by default, people still feel the need to behave well and be on their best formal behaviour around her, not out of fear of judgement but because she genuinely is that way and nobody wants to upset her. And if someone who doesn't give a shit about protocols upsets her on purpose by deliberately doing something that's fucking rude, they'll be discreetly moved to a different location before getting the shit beat out of them because fuck you for upsetting her.

The thing is, she's actually just autistic as hell. She originally started reading up on social etiquette as a way of masking, but it became a special interest for her, and she isn't just thrilled to teach you how to properly fold a napkin to help you better fit in to the Refined Society, but because she fucking loves infodumping. She's not trying to set herself apart, gatekeep, judge others or show off how she's better than you (like many others of her background would), she just genuinely enjoys having explicitly and clearly written rules and instructions on how to behave in society.

Also the tactful and graceful way in which she doesn't pay notice to veiled insults, or people accidentally saying something insulting to her, isn't always an act. A lot of the time she genuinely just does not notice.

[twilightofthesandwiches]

So one of the cool and interesting ways ‘Steven Universe’ used to try and balance being both a series of 11-minutes episodes that each have their own satisfying emotional resolution and being an overarching story with complicated character arcs that take multiple seasons to resolve is the… I’m going to call it the ‘Not Quite Right Lesson’ episodes. Episodes where a character kinda learns a Very Important Lesson… but a more careful and retrospective look at the situation shows that what they learned is not Quite the Right Thing for them. They internalized something in that adventure which just ended up causing more Emotional Troubles for themselves farther down the line.

‘The Test’ is the most classic example. 

As a standalone thing, it’s just a sweet episode about Steven learning to accept that his caretakers are also flawed and confused and figuring this shit up as they’re going along just like he is, and then doing a nice thing for their sake.

But looking back at this episode, it is quite obviously the nadir of Steven appointing himself as the Family Therapist and repressing all of his problems so he could better help the Gems’ with theirs. Like, there have been some early warning signs for this Complex, but this episode is the one that really cemented that idea in his mind and probably the reason it took him like the Entire Rest of the Show Including a Post-Finale Season to really untangle it.

But… also, I’ve been thinking a lot about the episode right after that, ‘Future Vision’. I think it’s also a very important ‘Not Quite Right Lesson Episode’ for the character of Garnet, and to some extent, the Crystal Gems as a whole. In many ways, it is to the CGs' character arcs' what 'the Test' is to Steven's.

So in this episode, Garnet reveals to Steven the fact that she has Future Vision. She hoped that telling Steven a little bit more about herself and being honest with him will lead to a greater understanding and a greater bond between them… but it backfired. It just led Steven to become a total paranoid, terrified wreck stuck in a total existential crisis.

And it seems like the lesson Garnet learned is that… she should’ve never taken that risk at all. That it would’ve been better for everyone if she just kept Steven ignorant of the truth forever.

Extremely reinforced with the ending of the episode, where Garnet chooses to once again hide an uncomfortable truth (that he just came very close to dying again) from Steven, for the sake of his own ‘peace of mind’.

So, like, the Gems were already hiding uncomfortable truths from Steven since day one. “If you could only know what we really are” and all of that. But I think… With the actual truth of Homeworld encroaching on them more and more at this point of the story arc, this would’ve been a great time for the Gems to reconsider their attitude and actually Explain to Steven What the Hell is Going On. 

But instead, I think Garnet saw the events of ‘Future Vision’ as a reinforcement of the idea that there’s just some things Steven is Better Off Not Knowing. Actually being frank with him about Homeworld and the Diamonds and the War right there and then, that would have just overwhelmed Steven with fears and worries and would’ve ended up doing nothing but hurting him. And Garnet can’t accept that possibility, not again.

And so, Garnet, alongside Amethyst and Pearl, keep all these truths from Steven as long as possible. Only revealing bits of information when they have to. For Amethyst it’s about her emotionally-evasive attitude (also, she legit doesn’t know all of that stuff herself). For Pearl it’s about how she learned to romanticize Rose’s own fucked-up obsession with secrets. For Garnet, with her usually very direct attitude and preference for the most straightforward solutions, I think it’s very much the events of ‘Future Vision’ that were still playing in her head every time she had the choice to actually Explain something to Steven and decided not to. 

But that, indeed, was Not Quite the Right Lesson. While being bluntly and directly told by Garnet all about the Many Ways He Could Die caused Steven to go into an anxiety spiral and an existential crisis for an episode - the way the Gems have been consistently secretive and evasive with Steven ended up causing him so much more emotional grief to him in the long run. As all of these secrets ended up revealed to him in the most surprising, dramatic and traumatizing way possible.

And the secretive attitudes ended up driving a wedge between Steven and the Gems. 

Even after they promised to be more honest with him. Because the sight of Steven crying on the roof that day is one that Garnet can easily move away from. Because Garnet’s Not Quite Right Lesson was almost as difficult for her to unlearn as Steven’s own. 

But after the big confrontation at the start of the Zoo Arc, Garnet ended up being the most upfront about the Crystal Gems’ history. Almost overeager to share what she knows about the past.

I mean also, again, Amethyst just has less to tell and Pearl is hiding secrets for reasons beyond her control - but I think it’s also important to consider from the perspective of Garnet’s arc.

Because the fallout of the Pink Diamond Reveal is very much centered around Garnet (or, well, Ruby and Sapphire). That was the Truth that was hidden from her 'for her own good'. And at the end of the day, despite all the grief that unveiling that truth has caused

It has also brought them, all of them, a lot closer.

There's a reason why 'the Truth' is Garnet's Final Missing Piece in the movie. It is as central to her character arc in the series as Lesbian AngstTM grief over lost love is to Pearl.

And still, some remnants of the Trauma of 'Future Vision' remained...

After all, even the very last episode of 'Future' was centered around the Gems once again trying to hide things from Steven (at that case, their turmoil about him leaving) for his own sake

Even though it once again just caused Steven a whole lot of grief.

It's maybe notable that at the end of this episode, Garnet, once again, tells Steven what's waiting for him in his Future...