#distressed wedding box

[reallyromealone]

Title: fate

Fandom: jjk

Characters: Gojo, original character for plot purposes

Fic type: story

Pairings: Gojo x reader

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, omegaverse, angst, soulmate, Gojo is a jerk, slow burn

Notes:

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There was no space for weakness amongst sorcerer's, no space for mistakes and no space to be anything less than perfect.

He had always heard of his fiance, Gojo Satoru... The god amongst sorcerer's...

Though he never met the Alpha, the high and mighty sorcerer never bothered meeting the diamond of the (lastname) clan and did everything he wanted and everyone he wanted while (name) was expected to wait.

The only reason they were fiance's is because of stupid blood work, the two having extreme compatibility and thus an engagement... The Alpha apparently became a teacher.

(Name) Always stood out with people, clothes traditional and expensive as students gawked at the Royal looking omega with two S rank sorcerer's beside him as security and a calm yet serious expression on his face, he was rarely called here... Hell he wasn't even allowed to attend due to being the fiance of Gojo, the Alpha barring it.

That always made (name) laugh, couldn't meet his omega even once and downright ignored him but controlled every aspect.

"You will be expected to marry within the next month, you're both 19 and twenty and after the wedding we expect pups within the first year" Gojo sat beside him, legs spread out and sitting casual as if he didn't make them wait an hour for him to arrive. (Name) Didn't know what to do with the Alpha beside him, (name) expected to wear scent patches at all times and a collar but Gojo had his scent out and proud, it was almost suffocating.

The concept of marrying such an asshole... (Name) Didn't want that.

He didn't want to live a life being this fuckers baby machine.

So, a week after... He left.

Took the jewelry gifted to him by people wanting his hand or favor, once people learned who he was it was like floodgates opened and (name) just kept the expensive jewelry in a box... Now they served a purpose.

That was one year ago, now 20 and across the country away from Tokyo and away from... Him.

(Name) Lived in a farm house on a coastal village, trading his traditional clothes for t-shirts and cardigans, simple trousers and sneakers, all things he never wore before living on his own. The two was nice, the Omega had more money than god with the jewels he sold and worked part time at the small hobby shop in town, the elderly alpha woman introducing him to many hobbies.

For the first time, (name) felt calm.

His shoulders never tensed anymore.

But he knew to never eat his guard down.

(Name) Didn't keep much tech, he didn't really use it back in Tokyo so it didn't appeal to him but he did keep a radio and a small tv in the corner, his boss giving him her old dvd player and (name) would borrow movies from the library, catching up on things he missed.

Currently he was watching a drama as he crocheted another blanket for his nest, humming softly to himself as rain patterned outside against his roof and the smell of his food cooking in the oven.

Knock knock knock.

(Name) Was confused as he stood up, walking to the door and carefully he cracked the door open just a sliver when he smelt it... Pine and peppermint. The smell of Gojo Satoru.

"You are a very hard person to find, surprisingly" Gojo said as he pushed the door open, the smell of distress and anxiety filling the small space as the sorcerer walked in "cute place, not what I would have expected from the (last name)s clans little gem" his voice condescending as he looked around at the little decorations and such.

"I'm not going back" (name) hissed as he stepped away whenever Gojo got closer "im not being some daycare for your pups while you go sleep around japan!" Gojo wore his eye mask though even with that he could feel the glare, the man was done with this.

"So you're going to play farm boy here? We both know you're not even remotely cut out for that" Gojo taunted and (name) glared at him "you know nothing about me! I know you never opened that stupid packet about me! I was expected to give everything to you but you couldn't even muster up talking to me! You treated me like I didn't exist!" (Name) Yelled angrily, all the years of anger and resentment boiling over "you don't get to want me now, I don't care if we are fated or whatever! You are a jackass!" (Name) Felt the air knocked out of him as he was pushed against a wall, the infinity making him feel like the other was pressing against him as he realized that gojos mask was no longer present, piercing blue eyes staring down at him.

"Do you think I was happy with the elders deciding that I was going to marry some prissy Omega? That suddenly I was expected to play house with someone I didn't know!" He growled and (name) wasn't backing down despite the pharamones and pressure "you didn't even try and get to know me! You didn't want me!"

"Well I'm here now, aren't I !"

" A little late, don't you think!"

"God you're annoying!"

"Back at you"

This was not the Omega Gojo remembered, the poised and refined Omega who poured tea and wore pretty clothes was replaced by an angry man in comfy clothes and a heated glare and an attitude "we are literally bound by fate and we can't even hold a conversation without arguing" Gojo found the situation weirdly funny as (name) looked at him with a mix of annoyance and disgust as the sound of his timer went off and (name) managed to get away to go take his food out the oven.

Gojo followed the other and looked at the food, it looked really good "you know how to cook?"

"I was literally trained to be the perfect house wife" (name) said bluntly as the sound of a stomach growling caught both of their attention and Gojo looked at the other and (name) sighed "I literally can't make you leave" he hissed as he grabbed another plate.

Dinner was tense as (name) ate, reading his book as he did so as Gojo took the time to inspect his surroundings "it's like an old persons house, do you even have a computer?"

"Don't know how to use one, don't need it" (name) said as he took a bite of his food and Gojo looked surprised at his words "you grew up with cast wealth, how do you not?" He didn't believe it at all as (name) set his book down "an Omega and an alpha live different lives, you were given more freedoms then myself... You got to attend school and make friends and I was raised to be the perfect mate and technology wasn't deemed important to know compared to the art of tea pouring" he said simply as he looked into the others eyes "I have spent this year learning everything i was deprived of, I lived in Tokyo yet I had never seen it outside my escape"

If it was tense before then it was suffocating now, Gojo never considered these things.

He never once considered the life his fiance was living, having always been told he was living the perfect life of luxury and frankly assumed he was some spoiled Omega.

"I would have shown you..." Gojo started, guilt bubbling in him, "oh? You would have spared me time? Between your whores?" (Name) Tilted his head curiously and Gojo felt a headache form "I hear everything you know? From my maids... They always told me I should be lucky that I'm fated to you" (name) looked away and continued eating, book abandoned beside him as the smell of fury radiated from the Omega, Gojo sighing as he took a bite of his food. The food was phenomenal, seasoned perfectly and not one thing not amazing about it but he didn't comment "we can sort these things out when we go home" Gojo said finally, they would get everything in order when they returned home.

"I am home, I have no intentions of going anywhere with you" (name) said stiffly as he stood with an empty plate.

"Well, tough" Gojo said tired as he followed the Omega around the small farm house, cozy and warm "you're my Omega and I'm tired of this"

"Was I your omega when you screwed across the land?" (Name) Glared at him, he didn't care who he was or what strength he possessed... He was tired of everyone making choices for him! "You can go back to whatever life you had before, say I died or something... I know that there's countless omegas dying for a chance to be your fiance"

"Well if you're not going with me, in not going anywhere" Gojo said simply as he walked to the small couch and plopped down "you're like a child" (name) glared, wasn't even like he could go out, the rain so heavy.

"I'm going to bed" (name) grumbled as he went to his bedroom, Gojo getting up to follow but (name) slammed the door in his face.

This was going to be annoying, Gojo could feel it.

Come morning, (name) wore a loose shirt and sweatpants as he made himself his morning drink and stared at his mug sleepily as Gojo watched from the livingroom curiously, the other rubbed his eyes sleepily as calm and sweet pharamones filled the space. Gojo realized that this was the first time he could smell the others pharamones and not smell distress.

He never smelt anything so wonderful.

(Name) Set a mug of tea, brewed perfectly "how did..." "We were both given packets about one another, you pretended I didn't exist remember?"

Gojo had a feeling (name) wasn't going to let go of that anytime soon.

Gojo followed (name) around all day, when the Omega walked down the path towards the village "you really live out in the middle of nowhere" Gojo commented as they walked along the tree lined path, (name) holding a few bags "you know in Tokyo, I could have food delivered to us right?" Gojo remarked and (name) just ignored him, at least the Alpha had the sense to wear sunglasses instead of his mask so he didn't look insane "there's barely a connection out here" the Alpha remarked, (name) knew what he was doing and it wasn't working.

The villagers looked confused as (name) had a towering alpha follow him, the omega shopping as if he wasn't even there "(name)!" A couple kids ran up to the Omega who looked down curiously "what is it little ones?" (Name) Asked softly as the youngest clung to his leg, a little pup with wide eyes and a sweet smile "play with us!" One of the kids said excitedly and (name) smiled "maybe later little ones, I have errands I have to do" (name) ushered the children towards the small park area, Gojo watching the scene curiously.

"So why did you come looking for me? I thought you would have been elated at my sudden leaving" (name) asked as they walked home, Gojo forcing the other to let him hold the bags "my alpha... It practically destroyed half the estate when it found out you left... Geto ripped me a new one"

"So you had an epiphany and came here acting like everything would be fine" (name) said with a sigh and Gojo shrugged "I mean yeah" "and what? Expect me to be like 'oh thank you alpha! You're so kind and didn't make me feel worthless and your actions didn't cause me verbal and emotional abuse from my family!' been going to therapy and the therapist says you suck" (name) was way snarkier than Gojo thought he would be, he liked that his omega wasn't weak "I spent a year being on my own and doing what makes me happy, I don't want you messing that up"

"What do you even do out here?" Gojo asked and (name) shrugged "I have a part time job and I'm an active member of the community, no stress of either of our families... Everything is good"

"What would it take for you to come back?" Gojo asked "money? I can make sure you have everything you need"

"I don't want money, I don't want that stuff... I'm not marrying someone who doesn't love me and I don't love in turn"

Gojo spent the night thinking about it, while his omega slept peacefully in the other room and pulled out his phone to text Geto... He wasn't sure what to do.

[knownoshamc]

top "Nandor being down for Guillermo" moments (in no particular order):

asking Colin Robinson to take a picture of him having fun, so Guillermo knew he didn't miss him at all

saying "I've been very unhappy since you left" and him practically begging Guillermo to come back

wanting to turn Guillermo in his homeland (romantic much)

giving one of his male wives the coin, because he defeated him, whilst with Guillermo he looks waaaay into it.

making a glitter portrait of them both as vampires

asking him to be his best man before he even had a bride to be. bonus: he was inspired by "The Wedding Planner", in which the groom ends up marrying his wedding planner. subtle.

being disappointed that Guillermo wasn't jealous anymore

going to freaking space for him

asking for Guillermo whenever he is distressed

honestly, just him in his coffin in 5x01, the definition of heart eyes

keeping a card Guillermo gave him 13 years ago. does he have a special box with everything Guillermo has given him over the years? he memorized that card. he mouthed the words along.

clenching on his sweater, looking absolutely miserable

[witchofhimring]

Under the shadow of the Crown

Synopsis: Your life as Princess Baela's lady-in-waiting is ripped apart. Queen Rhaenyra decrees that you marry her younger half brother Aemond. Terrified, you are in no position to object. Such are the lives of those in the shadow of the crown.

Pairings: Aemond x Y/n

Part of my Dynasty of Blood AU series, built of this concept.

You had never payed attention to the second sulky son of Alicent Hightower. If fact you had not even come to mainland Westeros to marry him in the first place. Of course marriage had always been in the cards. As heir to Blackhalt, your families ancestral seat just off of The Reach. A great match had always been in store for you. Lord Cregan Stark and Jeoffrey Velaryon had both been put forth. Only Lord Stark's had been seriously considered as the third born son of Queen Rhaenyra was not yet ten. It was only a pity the eldest two of her boys were to be wed. Well, Lucerys and Rhaena had not been wed at the time you arrived at Kings Landing. Crowned Prince Jaecerys had already taken Baela Targaryen to wife by then. Your role, until it was time to take up the mantel of ladyship, was to serve the royal family and cultivate whatever ties you could.

You were placed in the service of Princess Baela. She was around your age, born within the same year. Admittedly you were more than a bit intimidated. Use to being the second highest ranking lady in the room it was strange to be standing in front of the third greatest lady in the land. Not only that but Baela rode a dragon. Her beauty was intimidating as well, with thick silver hair and wide violet eyes. Her skin was dark and smooth, the scars she obtained in battle only giving highlighting her features. Normally scars could not be considered pretty, but Baela seemed to wear them as one would their jewels. Clad in black and red the princess looked almost like one of those Valyrian gods. Not that you had ever met one before. But perhaps this was how they were depicted.

The two of you would forge a friendship. A combination of personal liking and ambition. However it was with Rhaena that you first became friends with. The younger of the two, Rhaena was less assuming compared to Baela. That did not mean, as many mistakened her for, a wilting flower. She simply preferred to be more guarded and taken to court etiquette more easily. The two of you had much in common, a love of fine dresses, music, poetry and an ability to connive when the situation so called for it. When you were free of duties the two of you would hide under the Weirwood and read poetry.

Two years passed and a new year was upon everyone. A New Years ball was to be arranged and it was up to a team of ladies (including yourself) to organize who was wearing what. It was already agreed upon that Baela would be wearing a high collared red gown with rubies sewn into it. Not that she knew it yet. The rest of you would wear colours representing your houses to show a symbol of unity. "I think everyone should wear a red ribbon to symbolize the princess." Rhaena pulled out a silver box from underneath a tall tower of various items. Let it not be said this was an easy job. A new years celebration was nothing to scoff at. Especially as this one would be a pre-celebration to the marriage of Rhaena to Lucerys. Rhaenyra's second son had been off to learn what it mean to be a lord. This had been to the great distress of Rhaenyra. But she finally relented, unusually, and allowed Daemon to teach her son everything there was to know about being Prince of Dragonstone. Now that he had experience and was a man it was high time Lucerys married.

"Oh dear." Lady Cassandra stifled a laugh as she held up a pair of ludicrously high heels. Lady Cerelle of Casterly Rock paled and looked to Rhaena. She would find no security in her look as Rhaena sighed. "Let me see." You took the pair from her hand and examined them. They were exquisite in design and any woman would be thrilled to have them. Except this was Baela who would likely be as friendly as Vhargar when it came to overly constraining dresses.

Rhaena sighed and slumped in her seat. She looked up at the ceiling, exasperated. "Baela is going to kill me." You looked up at her. "Why you?" Rhaena sat up and stooped down to gather loose fabric. "Because I was the one who commissioned Panella to make the dress. And I swear I told her to make the dress to Baela's tastes. But the Queen ordered her to make it luxurious as possible." Queen Rhaenyra was well known for her expensive tastes. Just a glance at her dresses was enough for anyone to know. This had worked in your favour when the Queen gifted you a dress of pink silk and pearls. You had yet to wear it but the dress was truly magnificent. However, at this moment, was it worth it if Baela ripped your head off?

Deliverance came in the form a knock. One of Dowager Queen Alicents handmaidens entered. She first curtsied to Rhaena and then turned to you. "Lady Y/n, the Queen Dowager has requested your presence." Getting up you bid the ladies farewell before leaving. Hopefully you would be kept away long enough to avoid Baela's terror.

Lady Alicent had settled in the Hands Tower, much to the annoyance of the actual hand Ser Corlys Velaryon. The moment you entered green clouded your vision. On the steps of a dais sat the women serving Alicent. They mostly hailed from the Reach and Westerlands. Sitting on a throne like chair was Alicent. She looked older than her thirty and four years, a statue of regality and sternness. Had you done something to incur her ire? There was nothing you could think of. So you curtsied, hoping that if she was upset a show of supplication (even if it irked you) might mollify her. To your surprise she smiled, or at least it looked like a smile. This unsettled you to a degree.

"Lady Y/n, the Queen, your father and myself have chosen a husband for you." Several things went through your mind, excitement, anxiety and hope. You had been endlessly curious as to who would become your husband and the future lord consort to Blackhalt. "You will be marrying my son Prince Aemond. Everything dropped out from beneath you. Not literally, but it felt like someone had just hurled you down a dark tunnel. Out of everyone why him!? You could not say Aemond was well known to you. Only the stories and the looks he gave anyone attached to his elder sisters house. As you were a member of Baela's household his dislike over spilled into you as well.

Was this your fathers idea? Or your mother, who despite not being the ruling lady held great sway. Always you had known you'd marry, such was the duty of every lord and lady. Never had you though as you did now, that this was all some great mistake.

You curtsied to the third most powerful woman in Westeros and said how honoured you were. An honour it may be, but not one you cherished.

"Absolutely not!" If one though Baela had been angry beforehand it was nothing to her tirade over Aemond taking one of her handmaidens. "My Princess, I can still serve you, surely." You held her hand in your own. In the greatest state of anxiety Baela hardly seemed to notice. Suddenly she bounded to her feet. Cerelle leapt back in fright and Cassandra rose to her feet. Baela seized your hand and headed out the door. She strode forward with such a great fury you nearly tripped. You could hear the other two following, also having difficulty in catching up. It was only when you entered a staircase lined with red tapestries did you realize where it was Baela was taking you. Before there was even time to protest Baela waved the guards aside and burst through the door. Queen Rhaenyra lounged on a plush chair, surrounded by her three youngest sons, little Princess Visenya and four ladies. As usual she was bedecked in the finest robes imaginable. Jeoffrey came to his feet and rushed towards Baela. Despite the animosity between Baela and her good-mother she was fond of her husbands siblings. Once they broke apart Jeoffrey rushed back to his mother. Tention filled the room was two Targaryen Princesses stared each other down. Baela may not be Queen yet, but she had enough spirit to outdo almost any other. Rhaenyra may have been older, but the fire dwelling within her blood was no less furious. Despite their differences they both had something starkly similar. They were the very blood of Old Valyria.

"Princess Baela. Please take a seat." Baela simply stood there, not budging. Nervously you stood there. While Baela might get away with this you may suffer the brunt of Rhaenyra's anger. She was quick to anger and slow to forgive. So you hung your head in hopes that she might consider you unworthy of her anger. "He who bends may rise again", it was a Greyjoy saying, yet your mother mentioned it had a great deal of merit.

Lady Cassandra quietly entered, paid her respects to the Queen, then stood there. "Lady Velaryon, please take my daughter to her room." Lasfy Velaryon, a cousin of Baela, rose and took the hand of little Visenya who had only recently celebrated her third name day. With some fussing the princess was spirited away. Rhaenyra waited until her daughters little footsteps disappeared. When Rhaenyra focused her attention back onto Baela she looked as gentle as a dragon. They said the Queen was quick to anger, slow to forgive. You prayed her anger did not fall on you.

"Your impertinence is noted, Baela. Remember I am Queen so watch your tongue." The subject of Queenship had always been a tense, provocative one. When King Laenor died the crown passed to his wife. At the time Prince Jacaerys was only ten and considered too young to rule. Fearing a war over regency as had happened in the time of King Jaehaerys they had the boys mother become Queen. It was all wrapped up in a neat little bow. No boy kings and the succession going down the natural path. Or it would be so if it were not for the face Rhaenyra's sons were not Laenor's. Whispers floated down the halls that it was the former Captain of the City Guard Ser Harwin Strong who had fathered the boy. If the succession had gone down the true legitimate line then it would have passed to Laena's line. Baela was Laena's eldest child. But Rhaenyra was quick. She married Laena's widower Daemon Targaryen and married their children together.

Baela, who should have been Queen, stood in front of her stepmother who was Queen. Veryone else shrunk back. Even little Jeoffrey. "I hear you mean to marry Y/n Blackhalt to Aemond." She practically spat out the last words. All these years later Baela was still smarting over the injustice of Aemond taking Vhaegar from her sister. The feeling was mutual. Aemond had hated the Velaryon girls ever since that terrible fight on Driftmark. After the funeral of Princess Laena Aemond had stuck out and claimed Vhaegar which had once belonged to Aegon, consort of Queen Visenya. Words were said and Baela punched Aemond. A brawl ensued and Aemond lost an eye. The relationship between the families of Viserys Targaryen's first and second wives had never been smooth. Rhaenyra was left imbittered after her lady-in-waiting Alicent married her father. The two had never reconciled. Or so you heard.

"I am aware. Myself, Lady Alicent and your father have all agreed to it." Baela puffed up. "As a lady in my service Y/n is under my care and therefore I should have been informed." "My brother is a prince of the realm. Lady Y/n should feel honoured." Rhaenyra's amethyst eyes then settled on you. Oh Gods no.

"Lady Y/n, what do you say?" This was possibly the worst situation you could be placed in. Either way you would offend someone. Your best friend and future Queen, or the current Queen. Your mothers lessons went through your head. What would she do in this situation? Feigning calm, you spoke. "My opinion hardly counts. I will do what is best for the realm." You prayed this appeased both Targaryens. Rhaenyra had a look of satisfaction on her face. Baela's you could not see.

"There we have it. Is there anything else you would like to add?" It was not because Baela had been calmed that she turned and left. You could see the tension in her shoulders and knew Baela only left to stop herself from doing something truly rash. She had let go of you and both you and Cassandra were forced to race behind. All the way to her room the three of you ran. Rhaena and Cerelle were still in Baela's room. Rhaena opened her mouth but Baela spoke first. Once inside she immediately rounded on you. "So you want to marry him!" The fury in her voice made you cower. Unable to speak, it took everything in you not to cry. "You betray me in front of the Queen! You! Are you truly my friend or will you open your legs to any many who will have you!" Everyone gasped. Cassandra dropped the pearls, Rhaena clasped a hand to her mouth and Cerelle had silently fled.

You could not even cry. Your fear was so intense you remained rooted to the spot, stuck dumb. By no means were you a coward. Under any other situation you would have defended your honour. But not only was Baela your friend, but a Princess and future Queen. Baela's furious person glowered at you. Trembling, you only just begun to think of anything to say when Baela turned on her feet and stormed out.

There was no air in your lungs. Or at least that was what it felt like. Everything seemed to be falling away leaving you in a deep sea of despair. One by one you imagined everything being taken away, leaving only burned friendships and a disgraced name. Baela shot you one last disgusted before turning on her heel and leaving. With a bang the door shut.

Everything swam before you. Darkness began to rise and suddenly you were swallowed by it. Fading voiced echoed and drifted further and further away. A dull pain echoed in your head.

Then everything was black.

Pain was the first to greet you. The sun nearly blinded you and the world came into blurry focus. Every movement was slow and it ached. The bed dipped slightly as a face hovered above yours. "Y/n?" You recognized Rhaena through her voice. Then another joined your view. With vision clearing you realized it was a Septa. A cold hand pressed against your burning forehead and she spoke. "Can you see?" The words that came out of you sounded strange, like someone was yelling across the great hall. "Yes. But faintly, I think?" Wincing you held up a hand. Your vision was clearing and almost perfect again. "Sit up if you can." A hand behind your back helped you up. Propped against pillows a cup was placed by your lips. Cold water wetted your parched throat. It made a world of difference. Your senses were clearing and the remains of grogginess disappeared. Unfortunately it also brought pain into sharper focus. Reaching behind you felt a bump.

"Thank the Gods that is all. It could have been so much worse." Cerelle was nervously chewing her fingernails. You noticed that Cassandra and Baela were missing. "Cassandra was summoned by Baela. But she is very worried." Said Rhaena noticing your mood. "Does the Princess know what happened?" "I don't know. Not unless Cassandra told her." Defeated, you laid back. Still coming out of a haze your thoughts darted here and there. All this information, Baela's anger, the betrothal and Queen Rhaenyra's animosity made you want to faint all over again.

Cerelle and Rhaena said nothing else as you lay back down. The three of you stayed in that room, the sun setting. All the while you wondered if this was the right decision.

You should have been happy at the choice of husband. Aemond was young, handsome and a prince. But on the morning of your wedding all you felt was dread. During the early hours of the morning you lay awake, Rhaena snoring a few inches away. As a princess-to-be you got new rooms in the Red Keep. These ones opened out onto the garden, a combination of roses and salt lingering on every surface. You would rather have been in the old rooms. At least Baela had been your friend back then, and Aemond had not been your betrothed. You missed those days were you were just Lady Blackhalt. After the wedding you would be sent back with Aemond to Blackhalt island. Away from the place which had been your home since childhood.

Everyone but you seemed happy. Only Rhaena seemed aware of your mood. Cassandra and Cerelle were with Baela, they would no longer be with you. And Baela...who knew. They washed you within an inch of your flesh. Scrubbed till it hurt they finally pulled you out and lathered on a sweet smelling cream. Every inch of you were fussed over by an army of women. When that was done they dressed you, a whole new ordeal. For the first time you wore the Targaryen black and red. The three headed dragon was sewn onto your bodice with rubies glittering on silk strings. For a moment you forgot every worry when looking in the mirror. Every move sent sparkles dancing around you, and as princess you would always have such gowns. At least that was one comfort.

The dress became a burden when it was time for the procession through King's Landing. They placed you on a chariot for all of the smallfolk to see. They called out to you, blessing you with good fortune and many children. You smiled and waved, ignoring the heat and painful corset. Yet to have so much adoration gave you a warm feeling. You tried to focus on that. White petals were thrown into the air. Several getting caught in your hair. Finally you arrived back at the Red Keep. The remaining court which had not come with you was waiting. Helped off, you were delivered into the arms of your father. Lord Blackhalt was a stranger to his daughter. Having barely seen him in years it felt strange to have him hand you off. Baela might as well have done the honours. Speaking of Baela she was there. It hurt when she barely looked at you. And after this you would likely hardly see her again.

They were now closing in from all sides. Walking into the Great Hall you felt all their eyes on you. 'From now on I will always be watched.' You thought. You would go from lady to princess. A member of the royal family. Waiting for you at the end was the High Septon and Queen Rhaenyra, looking on in satisfaction. You hated the queen, her satisfied look making you want to throw up down the stairs. How dare she act all pleased! And then you saw your betrothed. Aemond stood inches from his sister. His black leather made you want to shrink away. 'Don't you it.' The warning spurred you on.

Aemond's hand was calloused and cold. It was a shock compared to the heat of this morning. For the first time you looked Aempnd in the face. As a body you feared him, as a man you nearly ran. And now you would spend the rest of your life with him. His purple eye was hard to read. No expression passed his face. It was worse than showing anger, at least you would know what to expect. Right now you knew nothing. In truth despite the proximity for so many years you knew nothing about him. Always it had been the words of Baela and Rhaena which painted a picture. Now on your own there was a blank canvas.

'With this kiss I pledge my love.' Empty words. His lips were cold against your own ones. Your black and white cloak was whipped off, replaced by the Targaryen sigil. No longer Lady Y/n. Y/n Blackhalt, Princess of Westeros. You felt naked, unprotected. And now your girlhood was ended.

Notes: I just want to reiterate that this is not a story in the sense I will organize it into chapters. It will be a collection of one shots based off of scenarios. If anyone wants to further discuss these characters I am happy to do so!

About the characters: Cassandra is much nicer in this version. I suspect that the reason she was so bitter in Fire and Blood was because she went from a possible heiress to House Baratheon and promised to a prince, then promised to a King. Only she ended up married to a man well below her station. Personally I think she was definitely ambitious, but is less malicious in this version due to being Lady Baratheon by right. So she certainly has less to be bitter about.

Now, about the readers wedding. Because this is a world were women inherit the reader will keep her last name. But because she is marrying into the royal family she wears their colours. So that is why she wears the Targaryen cloak.

Rhaenyra does come off as cruel in this one-shot however she will get more development. Her actions are a combination of spite against Baela and to show her place as Queen. Baela resents Rhaenyra for taking the place she thinks is hers. I will at some point write a one-shot from Baela's point of view.

The other ideas I have in mind:

-Rhaenyra and the reader talking about their dead ancestors

-Baela and Daenerys (reader's daughter) talks about queenship

-Reader's friendship with Baela and Rhaena

-"Monarchs of Westeros" (part 1) Covering every monarch of Westeros in this AU from Visenya the First to Rhaenyra the Second.

[gabessquishytum]

You just filled my Sand-ridgerton prompt; Which I love!! ❤️❤️🩷❤️

I'm so glad your box is open again!!

----

Hob just wanted to get some snacks from the corner store; he was hungry and too tired to cook. He knew the universe would get him for eating nothing but suspicious hot dog(s), and artifical spicy cheese flavoring for dinner, but he didn't think it would be before he could finish said snacks. But well......

Bursting into Hob's boring night, on this random Tuesday, was a beautiful man, bare foot, wearing ripped pants and a wrecked shirt (or what used to be a shirt) covered spotted with blood?!? and seemingly hiding in the corner behind the Tastykakes. Even roughed up as he was, for Hob it was just love at first sight, Hob was gobsmacked by how lovely he was.

Hob would have helped him regardless, really, but he definitely had to help his future husband. 😝

Dream managed to save his (damn) self from the Burgess Gang after his mission went bad (and his company didn't work to save him). Dream was a top spy, so he knew the drill, but he was too far from hq to get there in his current condition. Hiding and regrouping in a nondescript late night store should help him shake the remaining Burgess goons chasing him. When he finally stopped to take a breath, ducked low behind some snack cakes, he (unfortunately) could help but notice a handsome puppy dog of a man staring at him.

Omg, himbo Hob and spy Dream is just the perfect combination.

Hob tries so hard to be smooth about it, kind of shuffling up to Dream in what he hopes is a discreet manner. He immediately ruins it by babbling away about how he doesn't usually talk to strangers but he also likes to help strangers in need, particularly strangers who don't seem to have any shoes on... Dream stares helplessly at the cute guy who just doesn't seem to be able to shut up, and he makes a split second decision. The cute guy is clearly kind of an idiot, and can't possibly be a danger to Dream, and aligning himself with a civilian is a great way to throw the Burgess gang off the scent. Dream puts on his own most pathetic puppy eyes, and throws himself on Hob’s mercy.

And look. He only meant to go home with Hob and lay low for a couple of hours. But Hob was so taken in by Dream’s 'damsel in distress' act that he seems genuinely really worried. He makes Dream a nice (ish) food, fusses over his bruises and cooes over him like a mother hen. Dream doesn't even get a chance to steal a pair of shoes and run away because Hob is all over him! And... it's kind of nice, after what Dream has just been through. Suddenly staying the night doesn't seem so bad, especially when Hob gives him a bubble bath and a fucking aromatherapy massage afterwards. Dream can't peel himself up off the bed after that.

And why is he stilled holed up in Hob’s apartment a week later? Well... if his company couldn't be bothered to save him, then he clearly deserves a holiday before he does go crawling back to them. Burgess will never find him at Hob’s place, and Hob is so... charmingly adorable and sweet. He waits on Dream hand and foot! Leaving him sounds like the worst idea ever.

Little does he know that Hob is already planning their wedding. And little does Hob know that the love of his life is a spy being hunted to the death by Burgess and his goons. Somehow, they might just be perfect for each other!

[babybluebex]

rememories | tommy shelby x fem!reader

summary: the lee family trashed your betting room, including your most prized possessions, and tommy does everything in his power to soothe you and right the wrongs that the rival gang caused. pairing: tommy shelby (peaky blinders) x fem!reader tags: s1!tommy, tommy being a sweetheart, your daughter's name is thomasine (thanks @lost-in-sokovia for that one), no real warnings for this other than like angst? brief emotional distress? idk author's note: it's come to this lol. i'll be fixing my cillian masterlist later and reblogging it, so y'all can read all of my old tommy fics (and a few other cillian characters lmao) but i hope you enjoy this one!

The backroom was in total disrepair. Chairs were tipped over, things were thrown from tables, coins scattered everywhere and marks of bludgeonings on the walls. The poor little room was merely a shell of itself, its personality and life battered away. You could still hear your husband’s jaded laughter as he made fun of John for wanting to marry Lizzie Stark, but mere minutes ago now seemed like a lifetime away.

Scudboat sat as Arthur poured him whisky, and he explained how the Lees, “the whole lot of ‘em”, came in and destroyed the betting backroom. He was ambushed, he said, or he would have done a better job defending it. You held Tommy’s hands as fear made your own shake, and your husband sighed. “Find what can be salvaged,” he said, narrowly missing John’s angry fit as he kicked a box over. “Anything is better than nothing.”

“This is terrible,” you sniffled, and Tommy extracted his handkerchief for you. It was one that you had bought for him right after you had gotten married and just before he went to war, and you were always amazed that the silky cloth made it as far as it did. You dabbed at your eyes, scowling at your dark makeup that came off, and your heart beat fiercely against your ribcage for a moment. “The children. Was Finn here for this, Scudboat? Or Thomasine?”

“Nah,” he said. “Finn was off in town; Thomasine ain’t come home from school yet.”

“Oh, Tommy, they can’t see the house like this!” you whimpered and clutched your husband’s arm. “It’ll upset Thomasine too much. I’ll fetch her from school and keep her away from the house for a while until this is mostly fixed.”

Tommy nodded wordlessly in agreement, and he began to take off his cap, but he quickly stopped. He was fixated on something on the floor at his feet, and you looked down to match his gaze, only to be greeted with the big leather book that held your most prized possessions: your photographs. You kept the album in the betting room because it was always filled with people, witnesses in case something happened, and, really, who would want to ruin Tommy Shelby’s wife’s photographs?

Your knees crunched on glass as you lowered yourself to the album, and you took it in your shaking hands. The dark green leather was stained black with spilled ink and oil, obscuring your gold-foiled name on the spine, and you opened the book with a creak of the old pages. You didn’t want to have to assess the damage, but the first page already had you weeping pathetically again. The first photograph, the first one ever taken of you and Tommy, sitting and laughing together as Ada tried out her new camera, years and years ago at fifteen and thirteen. It was gone. The page was yellowed all around where the photograph should be, but the picture itself was gone. You wanted to throw the book across the room and scream; you weren’t concerned with material things, many girls from Small Heath were the same way, but those photographs were your pride and joy. The next page was a formal picture taken of Tommy wearing his Army uniform, his lanky seventeen-year-old build a little too small for the uniform that he would grow into. The corner of the photograph was torn but, thankfully, mostly intact.

The third page made you press the book to your chest. Your wedding photographs. You and Tommy had gotten married quickly, two days before he had to go to France, and, in your haste, you hadn’t been able to afford much. You could only afford a single copy of each photograph: one of you in your Sunday best that was your wedding dress, one of Tommy in his uniform, and one of you together. All three photographs were torn to shreds, settled in the spine of the book, waiting for you to find them. Those wedding photographs were the most important thing in the world to you, and now they were gone. Not even pasting glue could fix it. “Tom!” you sobbed, pressing the back of your wrist to your mouth. “O-Our wedding photographs! Th-They’re all ripped up!”

Your husband’s attention went from Scudboat to you, and he walked over to you and knelt down next to you. He took the small bits of photographs in his fingers, examining them intently, and he sighed heavily. “Fuck, love,” he whispered, and your sobs grew heavy. If Tommy was resigned to fate, then there was no chance of them being fixed. “I’m sorry.”

“We-We don’t have any extras, do we?” you stuttered. Your mouth felt dry as your fingers tried to match the ripped edges of photographs up, but they were too far gone. “Tom, d-do we have any others? Th-These aren’t the only ones we have, right?”

Tommy sat down next to you and put an arm around you, and he watched you frantically sob for just a second more before he used his strength to pull you into his chest. The photo album fell out of your hands, and you clutched your husband as you wailed in sorrow. Your wedding photos were gone.

“Mummy?” you heard a little voice call from the doorway, and you turned to see your wee daughter, Miss Thomasine Sophia Shelby, standing at the door. She was holding her school books in her arms, the pink ribbon in her hair coming loose. Thomasine was born just after Tommy come home from France, five years ago, and she looked like a Shelby, dark hair and bright eyes, but she had her father’s smile. “Mummy, why’re you crying?”

You sniffled and wiped at your eyes, not caring that you streaked your makeup to hell and back, and you mumbled, “People came into the house, did us over. I-I’m just sad, that’s all.” You didn’t want to worry your daughter with the real reason why you were so upset, because, truly, you felt silly for being so distraught at fucking photographs. It felt ridiculous for you, as a grown woman, a mother, to be crying over photographs.

Thomasine ran to you and sat her small body in your lap, and she wrapped her small arms around you. “Don’t be sad,” Thomasine told you, and you laughed humorlessly. “It’s okay, Mummy.”

You sniffled and soothed your hand down Thomasine’s hair— the ends of her long hair were turning a little ginger, just the same as her father’s tended to do in the sun— and you kissed her forehead. “Thank you, love,” you whispered. “Hug your father, he’s sad too.”

Thomasine crawled out of your lap and into Tommy’s, and Thomasine started to suck her thumb as Tommy stood up and settled his daughter firmly on his hip. He offered you a hand to stand up, and you sniffled as you gathered the soiled photo album up in your grip and stood up on your own. “If you find any of ‘em,” Tommy called to the room, and he gestured to the album in your arms. “Bring ‘em to her, don’t waste time. Yeah?”

You hardly slept that night. After securing the house and making sure that there wasn’t any other part of it that the Lees had touched, you had tried to go about your life normally, but it was difficult to pretend like you didn’t know that, at any time, rivals could enter your home and slaughter every last one of you. You put Thomasine to bed after dinner, and your girl fell asleep quickly, but you yourself were awake for hours. Tommy had taken your photo album and put it away in his wardrobe; “If you keep it, you’ll fret over it forever.” He was right, of course, because, when the sun came up, you had tugged it out and was trying to sort through the scraps of photographs on your bedroom floor. The room was cold and part of you wished that you could be in bed, holding your husband close, but you needed to do it for yourself. You had managed to salvage a single photograph by the time Tommy was blinking himself awake, and you sniffled as you beckoned him over. “Tommy, look!” you exclaimed. “I-It’s Thomasine!”

“Jesus, woman,” Tommy sighed groggily. “Have you been at this all night?”

“Yes!” you exclaimed. “Her baby picture, look!”

Tommy reached down for you and he took your hand, and he helped you stand up, his hands going to hold your cheeks. “I know you’re having a hard time with this,” he whispered. “But obsessing over it is only going to make it worse. They’re as good as gone, darling.”

“B-But—” you sniffled, and Tommy shook his head.

“You have to let it go,” He told you firmly. “Come back to bed, you don’t have to be awake for hours.”

“Oh, Tommy,” you sighed, shuffling back up to bed. Your joints hurt from sitting on the floor practically all night, and your vision watered up as you watched Tommy gather up the album and photograph scraps and set them back in his wardrobe. “What am I going to do? All of my favorite memories are lost.”

“You still have the memories in your head, love,” Tommy told you, sitting next to you. You leaned into him and pressed your cheek to his warm chest, and you sniffled as you squeezed your eyes shut.

“I just…” you mumbled. “Our wedding pictures is the thing I’m most upset about. We were so young, and that was before everything went to shit, and we were so happy…”

“We’re still happy,” Tommy assured you. “We’re happier now, because we have Thomasine. We’re a complete family now.”

“You know what I mean,” you said. “We were poor kids, and-and looking at those pictures gave me hope that you’d come home when you were in France. They were my lifeline for a long time, and to have them ruined like this…”

Tommy’s lips formed into a thin line, and he rubbed your back comfortingly as you finally laid down and tried to settle into sleep. Your sleep was thin, hardly even deep enough to call proper sleep, but you finally woke up and got out of bed when you heard shouting down in the bottom of the house. You were used to that, but you still felt like you ought to make sure everything was alright, so you pulled yourself from bed and went about groggily getting ready for the day, slipping on a dress and spraying on perfume before descending the stairs.

The noise seemed to be coming from the back room, the ruined betting room, and you carefully pushed back the plush curtains and opened the doors to see a sight. Your eyes first landed on your husband, dressed in his old uniform. It certainly looked too small for him, tugging a little at his chest, but you clenched your teeth together at the sight. How long has it been since you saw him in the pea-soup-green uniform? Five years, at least. “Tommy,” you said softly. You couldn’t help yourself from stepping closer to him as his head snapped to look at you, and his hard gaze softened in the way it always did when he saw you. He never subjected you to his steely gaze, and, whenever you saw it, it always reminded you of what a feared man he was.

“Fuck, love, what’re you doing down here?” Tommy asked. “You’re supposed to be asleep still.”

“Heard shouting,” you said softly. The other men were bustling around the room as you smoothed your hands up Tommy’s chest, and your eyes went all watery again. “This isn’t happening, please, no.”

“What’s wrong?” Tommy asked. “Talk to me, darling, what’s the matter?”

“How long have you known?” you asked, sniffling. “Leaving us like this, how could you?”

“What?”

“The uniform, Tommy!” you cried. “You’re being called to the war again, why else would you have this shit on?”

Tommy grabbed your cheeks and kissed your forehead, and he angled your head to the side. Arthur stood there, behind a massive camera, angled at a blank space on the wall, and your breath caught in your throat. “What is this?” you asked.

“I’m not being called back,” Tommy explained. “I got to thinking about our wedding pictures, and I went to see the photographer who made them. He said the film was too old and that they couldn’t make you new copies, so the next best thing was to retake them.”

“Oh?” you asked. You sniffled and wiped your nose, and you gently reached out to touch the camera. “We… We’re retaking our wedding pictures?”

“With a few adjustments,” Tommy said. “Back then, I couldn’t afford to even get you so much as a bouquet, but now… Well, I took your measurements to a dress shop, and even though the dress was pre-made and only adjusted to you…”

“Tommy?” you whimpered.

“I got you a wedding dress, love,” Tommy told you. “Better than the flour-bag Sunday best that you had on.”

You gasped, covering your mouth with your hands, and you sobbed once before flying to your husband and crushing him in a hug. “Oh, Tommy!” you cried. “Thank you! Can I see it?”

“Pol’s got it in the kitchen,” Tommy told you. “Go put it on, why don’t you let me see it?”

The dress was beautiful. Eggshell-colored silk that fell below your knees with long sleeves and deep neckline, very fashionable and pretty, and it fit you like a glove as Polly helped you into it. She primped you a little, fixing your hair and patting red rouge onto your lips, and she upturned a vase next to the stove and handed you the bouquet of wildflowers that Thomasine had picked a few days earlier. You felt timid and almost nervous as Polly escorted you back to the betting room, and you cleared your throat once you passed the threshold, afraid that, if you spoke, your voice would give up on you.

Tommy looked to you in an instant, and he gave you a small smile as he stepped towards you. “Aren’t you a sight?” he said in his rumbling timbre, putting his hands on your hips, and he kissed your lips for a moment before he added, “Thomasine might get a brother before the day’s over, if you keep looking that beautiful.”

“Oh, shut up,” you giggled, and he steered you in front of the camera as you smoothed down your dress. You were suddenly nervous, and you clutched Tommy’s hand as Arthur cranked the camera, preparing it to go off. “Tom?”

“M’right here, pet,” Tommy said, squeezing your hand. “Just smile; everything will be fine.”

By the time night fell, you had a whole slew of new film, new pictures to replace the ruined ones. Recreations of your wedding pictures, an updated picture of a smiling Thomasine, even one of Tommy kissing you when the camera went off on accident. Thomasine was tangled in your skirts then, gazing up at her daddy, and you looked at the film as you sat by the fire that night, smiling and admiring it. That was your favorite memory; you, your husband, and your daughter, smiling, laughing, loving. It was perfect.

[holdinbacksecrets]

who in svt would get as close as possible to you in the subway train while you're standing and hover over you, just to assert their dominance? i feel like it would be mingyu and coups the most, god i can hear those shit eating grins-

ohmygod

also, what about being afraid to ride public transportation unless you’re with him… you probably had one uncomfortable night ride and told yourself never again. then minghao told you to call him whenever it’s late and you have somewhere to go. you have to close your eyes the first time and focus on the feeling of his hand holding yours. with time, you go from watching him alone, to the scenery outside the window to the fellow passengers in the subway car.

mingyu and seungcheol… they’re the boys to ride with during rush hour and the odds are not in your favor for getting a seat, but you’re glued to his strong build, barely noticing the sudden jerks. it doesn’t hurt that his cologne overwhelms your senses in the best way, and his knuckles run up and down the length of your spine continuously. hell, you nearly fall asleep.

every one stares at jeonghan when you take the train together, but he’s too focused on the details of your day and convincing you to come to a few of the abroad tour stops or entertaining you with his latest debacle

joshua meets you at your stop every night he can and ohmygod how it releases all the butterflies and love confetti. he leans against the closest light post and you beam

once, you and jun waited at a bus stop for two hours in the pouring rain, and the memory is something you write down again every few months because you’re terrified it will leave you before you write your wedding vows

soonyoung would light up like a christmas tree taking a train in europe during your honeymoon. so many pictures. so much love. so wholesome

reading the same book with wonwoo who looks over at you and waits for your approval to turn the page. he stops reading if you fall asleep

you convinced jihoon to take a mattress on public transit once. it was a distressing experience, and now he won’t even whisper metro card

seokmin packs sandwiches for you in a cute lunch box he ordered online, and you exude a cheshire-wide smile every time you read his notes. he also loves to take public transportation for dates. like picnics only happen if you take the bus because in his head, they go hand in hand, and watching him sit beside you with the gingham blanket on his lap as he mindlessly trails his fingertips over your hand on the way to the park makes your heart melt

you’ve watched seungkwan on the train for months and try not to laugh at his unimpressed expressions or his dissatisfaction with an americano picked up from a new cafe. every time you try to talk to him, his stop is coming too soon, and you’re terrified of making him late or interrupting is schedule

you finally connected with hansol on the bus after months of stolen glances. it took you a couple weeks to realize you ride bus five at the same time at least a few times during the week. you’re amused and keep track of how long it takes for him to notice and gradually work his way closer to your seat until he gets on three stops late and the only available spot is beside you. he says: “did you forget your headphones?” before offering you one of his airpods. the first song he plays is one of your favorites, and it gives you chills

chan meets you at the red line and always has a book in his bag for you to read if the car gets crowded. having something else for you to focus on is his top priority, as if his hand in yours wouldn’t do the job just fine

[shadowbriar]

James Potter - Call It Fate, Call It Karma

Pairing : James Potter x (she/her) Reader Word Count : 3k Warning : Plenty of curse words. Synopsis : James' world was flipped upside down as the engagement ring now sits on the wrong girl's finger. Notes : Post no 4 for my 1 Year Anniversary Celebration. Don't forget to fill the form here if you'd like to be tagged for my future works. If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕ James Potter's Masterlist click here. Taglist : @jsjcue @ell0ra-br3kk3r @sofiacblair @coffeehurricanes @ineedmentalhelp123

James stares at his own reflection, whispering silent prayers as if they were a magic spell to help ground himself, tame the loud beating of his heart and provide the least bit of tranquillity for his troubled mind. It has been days since he’s got a good sleep. The days coming to Remus’ wedding have acted like a ticking time bomb, building anticipation of the apocalypse bound to happen once it explodes.

He wasn’t sure exactly the cause of his consternation. He supposed, wanting to get on your knees and ask your lover for their hand in marriage will surely cause you waves of jitters. The black velvet box in his pocket feels heavier each time he tries to silently reach for it. But could that be it? Could his nervousness to propose to Lily be the sole cause of his distress?

“You’re going to be alright,” James mutters to himself, taking deep breaths between his words “She’s not going to be here.”

A hard slap to his own cheek was done at the realisation of his words. Why would he say that? Why would he even think of her? He has Lily and his mother’s diamond ring to think about. How could she even slip herself in his mind at times like this?

Now James hates to admit it, but the little voice in his heart knew that Remus’ wedding and his plan to propose to Lily was nothing as terrifying as the idea of meeting his Hogwarts’ sweetheart after what seems to be forever. Their abrupt separation before graduation has left scars that James knew would never heal. The kind of marks that will always haunt your nights, making you ponder the unanswered what if scenarios.

The fear of meeting her has always been so grand that James never had the heart to ask Remus if he’s invited her to his wedding. They all have been great friends back in school, it would be more of an appalling fact to know that Remus didn’t invite her, so he remained quiet, letting time to provide him his answer.

“She’s going to be there,” James whispered quietly “And you’re going to be okay with it because she’s no one now. She’s a nobody.”

James nods to himself. The feigned determined expression on his face was fooling no one but it was the only thing he could do for himself. He can’t discuss this with Remus, Remus certainly has a lot on his plate already to prepare for the wedding. He can’t talk about this to Peter or Sirius either because he’s always acted as if he’s completely buried the thought of her though he always wondered if any of his best friends were ever convinced of such an act. And surely, James can’t share this with Lily because what would she think about him then?

The loud banging of his hotel door rudely breaks his train of thoughts. He could tell that the man standing behind the door would be none other than Sirius. There’s no one in this entire universe that is more loud and obnoxious than him.

“Prongs!” Sirius greets once the door is opened for him “Ah, you look grand, mate!”

James forced a smile, letting Sirius to get inside his suite.

“So I’ve got news for you. Good news and bad news. Which do you prefer to hear first?” Sirius asks, rubbing his hands together in an apprehensive manner “Knowing you, I’d go with the good news first. So the good news is, you, me, Remus, and Peter are going to go spend the night at the bar close by and live our life as if we never left that dreary dormitory room back in Hogwarts.”

“Tonight?” James asked “I don’t know mate, I’ve been feeling under the weather lately. I’m afraid I have to sit this one out. I might skip Remus’ wedding tomorrow if I don’t.”

“Nonsense! It’s the groom’s request and you’re one of his groom’s men so you have no other choice but to obliged.”

James rolled his eyes, groaning, “Fine. What’s the bad news, then?”

“Uh, right, the bad news.” Sirius says, now placing an arm around the bespectacled boy in an attempt of consolation “She’s going to join us tonight.”

“Yeah, I’ll definitely sit this one out.” James says as he pushes Sirius’ arm and walks away.

“No, no, no, no! It’s going to be fine. You see, me and Peter have crafted this plan to keep the two of you separate. I’ll be your wingman and Peter will watch over her so the two of you won’t meet unless it's absolutely necessary.” Sirius explains, trying to coax James to give in “You can’t seriously think that we’ll allow you to miss the last night before Remus is married.”

“Yes, but it’s her, Pads!” James argues, running his hand through his hair in desperation “Meeting her would essentially end me, quite literally!”

“No, no it won’t! Me and Peter will be there, remember?” Sirius lures “And you’ll be busy with Lily too, won't you? She’ll tether you to the ground.”

James groans once more, “Lily won’t be here until tomorrow morning. She’s stuck with her sister.”

“Oh,” Sirius grimaced. 

James wasn’t sure if such a response was due to the fact that Lily’s sister is a terrible person to be stuck with or that Lily’s absence would cause greater chance of him to plummet back to the darkness. Either way it proved to be a better reason for him to skip this night out.

“Look, I love Remus and I’m sorry that it has to be this way, but I really don’t think I should come.” James says, his hand reaching to the velvet box in his pocket and showing it to Sirius “I can’t afford to make any mistake.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow, staring at the box, “You’re planning to propose?”

“Not at Remus’ wedding, no,” James answers “But yeah.”

“To Lily?”

“Well, yeah. Who else?”

Sirius frowns and James wasn’t sure if that was solely caused by his surprise or was there any other underlying reason as to why he wasn’t ecstatic to hear this. James expected him to be as delighted as when Remus announced his engagement. He could clearly remember the expressions plastered on each of his friends’ faces that night. Now such joy seems to be void of Sirius’ face.

“I— We’ll talk more about this later but you need to come with us tonight. You have to!” Sirius says again “I swear on my parents’ name that you won’t talk to her tonight. Like I said, I’ll be your wingman.”

“You have no regards for your parents’ Sirius. That’s not a very convincing swear.”

“Well who else do you want me to swear their name upon? My Death Eater brother?”

“Ex-Death Eater.”

Sirius rolls his eyes, “Fine, I swear on Regulus’ name that you won’t talk to her tonight. Now will you please hurry and change out of your ugly shirt? Wear something more decent, won’t you?”

—-

It was comforting. The layers of blanket wrapping her body, soft pillows around her head and the warmth it brought to her were something she wished she could keep in a bottle. Waking up in hotel beds has always been something she adores. It reminds her of her own bed back in Hogwarts, familiar and comfortable. 

Her eyes were still half opened, trying to adjust to the brightness the sunlight was peeking through the sheer curtain. She must have forgotten to properly close it last night. Hell, she couldn’t even recall how she managed to get back to her hotel room. The last she could remember was meeting Remus and his fiancé before being whisked away by Peter to take shots by the bar.

The rest of the night felt like a complete skip of nothingness. She hoped that whatever happened last night wouldn’t cause Remus any trouble or embarrassment for herself. She does have the tendency to cause problems whenever she’s taken one too many drinks.

Her brows were knitted when a foreign object was felt as she rubbed her eyes. She stares at the solitaire ring now sitting beautifully on her left ring finger. It was gleaming under the limited light of the room. Whose ring was this?

“Good morning,” She heard a man’s voice greet her.

The sound was very pleasant to her ear. Like a warm cosy home you haven’t visited in a while but managed to return to after a while. It fills her heart with contentment, joy, and tranquillity. As if her heart was ready to implode from the satisfactory feeling. But the more her senses awake, the more consciousness she gained, she recognises whose voice this beautiful sound belongs to.

“Potter?!” She screams, pushing him who had his arms around her waist out of the bed “What are you doing in my room?!”

“I— What?!” James woke up from the scream, frantic to find the situation he’s in “What the— What’s going on?! I thought you were Lily!”

“I should be asking you that question! What are you doing in my room?!”

James grabs his glasses that were sitting by the bedside table, assessing the suite with half sleepy eyes, “This is my room! Those are my coat and shoes by the door, see?”

“I— Then what the hell am I doing here?!”

“I don’t know! You’re the one trespassing!”

“I did no such thing! I was at the bar with Peter and then— I just— What?!”

Her chest was heaving in panic. Her eyes crazed, looking around the suite to understand the setting better. She wasn’t supposed to be in this room. She wasn’t supposed to be in James Potter’s room. Hell, she wasn’t even supposed to meet him. She’s sworn to steer clear of his presence and it was the only condition she gave to Remus before agreeing to come to his wedding, that she would be placed as furthest as possible from him. So how is it that she’s finding herself on his bed right now?

“What is that?” James asked, pointing at the ring on her finger “Why do you have my mother’s ring on you?”

“I don’t fucking know, Potter. It found itself sitting there the moment I opened my eyes.” She spat, trying to take the ring off of her but proved to have such an action failing “What the hell?”

“Take it off!”

“I’m trying!” She yells “It won’t come off!”

“I— Shit, why do I have this on me too?” James questions as he notices a matching ring on his finger “Where was this from?”

“You’re asking me? Do I look like I know anything about rings?!” She says irritatedly, still trying to get the ring off of her “I can’t take this off unless we cut my finger.”

“Well, that’s an idea.”

She glares at him, not saying a word.

“This is bad.” James mutters as he begins to pace, feeling the anxiety to sink in “That was supposed to be on Lily’s finger, not yours!”

“Lily? Lily Evans?”

“Which other Lily do you know?”

“You’re planning to propose to Lily?” She asks, looking baffled now “How did you even manage to date her? She’s way beyond your league.”

James blinks, offended by her comment, “Mind you, I am in the same league as her. We’ve been happily together for years now.”

“Wait, you’re planning to propose to her at Remus’ wedding?” She questions “Talk about stealing your best friend’s thunder.”

“I— No, I wasn’t planning to propose to her today, okay! I only have the ring with me as an anchor so can you please take it off and return it before I’m losing my last strands of sanity.”

“It’s not coming off, I told you!”

James groans in despair, running his hand through his hair. He could feel his pillars crumbling down. That demon is finally claiming his soul once more. He has to force himself to walk further from the bed, pacing around the empty space so he could stop himself from staring at her. Even with such effort to create distance between them, James knows that he couldn’t fool himself. The crazy beating of his heart when he saw her have done more damage than he could ever afford to face.

Then suddenly, a loud banging on the door was heard. James turned his eyes to see her, seeing that panic on her face at the demanding sound. Sirius was persistent with his knocking.

“Don’t open it,” She warns “Don’t let anyone in. We can’t talk to anyone until we figure out what happened to us.”

“Nothing happened between us.” James says, not wanting to yield to reality just yet “You were just drunk and you mistakenly thought that my suite was yours.”

“Oh, I was drunk? How about you, do you remember anything then?” She challenges, pointing to the engagement ring on her finger “Have any clue as to why this ring of yours is on my finger?”

“I— Fuck!” James cruses, rubbing the bridge of his nose to calm himself “I have to open the door. Sirius won’t stop knocking unless I do.”

“Sirius’ knocking is the least of our troubles. What we need to do now is to trace down what happened to us last night. I refuse to go out of this door wearing this stupid ring. What am I to say if others ask?!”

“Well, I can’t remember shit from last night so we’ll only be running in circles, Sweetheart.” James retorts “And mind you, it’s not a stupid ring. It’s my mother’s.”

Her expression softens a little. Memories of how sweet and loving Euphemia Potter was came rushing in like a tidal wave. James’ mother has always been so fond of her, treating her as if she was her own daughter. She would always remember how his mother would compliment them two, saying that they remind her of how in love she was with James’ father back in the day. Now such memories only do more harm than good for her sanity.

Taking her silence as staleness in their argument, James walks himself to the door. His steps were wide and angry. Irritated by the persisting banging done by Sirius, his lack of understanding of the trouble he finds himself in, and the crazy beating of his heart from being in her presence.

“What?!” James spat at Sirius as he opened the door, barely so that Sirius won’t be able to peek inside.

“I— Geez mate, woke up on the wrong side of the bed?” Sirius asked with a raised brow “I was just worried you’ll miss the wedding. You disappeared last night, I thought something happened.”

Something did happen, James thought, but found himself shaking his head instead, “No, nothing happened. I was just about to take a shower and get ready. Thanks for checking up on me.”

Sirius nods, unimpressed by his words but takes it in anyway. He opens his mouth before closing it once again. Looking as if he has something to ask but decides to not to. Whatever that question might be, James was glad that it was never uttered. He has plenty on his plate already at the moment.

“Right,” Sirius says instead “I’ll see you at the venue, then.”

James nods, closing the door as Sirius turns his heels away.

He let out a relieved sigh once the clicking sound of the door was heard. James closes his eyes before turning to see her again. She was still on his bed, buried under the many blankets and pillows around her. If this wasn’t reality, James would’ve enjoyed such sight and count this as his family friendly wet dream.

“Who was it?”

“Sirius,” James answered “He wanted to check up on me. Said I disappeared last night. I didn’t tell him anything, don’t worry.”

She nodded, “So what are we to do now?”

“I don’t know.” James says, defeated that he has no proper answer to give her “I— Lily and I were supposed to meet at the venue. She doesn’t know that I was planning to propose. I guess I can just bullshit my way and say that this is just a dress ring and it’s stuck on me for the moment.”

“Alright,” She bobs her head in understanding “Then what about me? What am I to tell people? Cause people will ask.”

“Well, maybe you can just lie and say that you recently got engaged? At least until we can figure out a way to get that ring out of your finger.”

“But I don’t have a partner. If I do and I just recently got engaged, shouldn’t my fiancé be my plus one? People will ask more questions about his wherebeing.”

“Well, do you have any better excuse? Fire away, I’m open for suggestions.”

She rolls her eyes, finding his sarcastic response to be the very least helpful, “Fine, I’ll do that.”

James watches as she begins to collect her purse and jacket that was scattered on the carpeted floor. He tries to bite down the slight satisfaction of hearing that she was single. He knew that it was wrong to feel this way and it has been years since they met, surely she’s dated other people after their separation, but to know that she wasn’t bound with anyone the moment they had their reunion sparked something inside him. Something that he knew was so sinful that he would never be able to atone.

“Can you check if the hallway is clear? I don’t want to meet anyone as I come out of your door.”

James nods, peeking out of the empty hall before turning back to her with a nod.

“Don’t talk to me, don’t look at me, don’t even breathe my way at the venue.” She said to him, finger firmly pointing at him in a threatening manner “I will hex you to death right on the spot if you do.”

He scoffs, rolling his eyes, “Don’t flatter yourself.”

She gave him a glare one last time before leaving his suite. James could finally let out the breath he unconsciously held once he was left alone. He walks back to his bed, sitting on it and hating the fact that her perfume lingers on its cover. Now he wouldn’t be able to shake the sweet scent off of his mind, even if he was to obliviate himself to it. But then again, what is a wedding without some drama, right?

[sassenach77yle]

||COUNTDOWN ||SEASON 2 EPISODE 06 || BEST LAID SCHEMES... ||

#83daysofoutlander☆

turned back the lid and stood still, staring into the box. For a moment, my mind refused to register what my eyes saw; the folded white square of paper, carefully wedged upright between the multicolored bottles. I noted rather abstractedly that my fingers shook as I took the paper out; it took several tries to unfold it.

I am sorry.

The words were bold and black, the letters carefully formed in the center of the sheet, the single letter “J” written with equal care below. And below that, two more words, these scrawled hastily, done as a postscript of desperation: I must!

“You must,” I murmured to myself, and then my knees buckled. Lying on the floor, with the carved panels of the ceiling flickering dimly above, I found myself thinking that I had always heretofore assumed that the tendency of eighteenth-century ladies to swoon was due to tight stays; now I rather thought it might be due to the idiocy of eighteenth-century men. There was a cry of dismay from somewhere nearby, and then helpful hands were lifting me, and I felt the yielding softness of the wool-stuffed mattress under me, and cool cloths on my brow and wrists, smelling of vinegar. I was soon restored to what senses I had, but strongly disinclined to talk. I reassured the maids that I was in fact all right, shooed them out of the room, and lay back on the pillows, trying to think. It was Jack Randall, of course, and Jamie had gone to kill him. That was the only clear thought in the morass of whirling horror and speculation that filled my mind. Why, though? What could have made him break the promise he had made me?[...]

"Frank,” I said, and my left hand curled involuntarily over the shimmer of my gold wedding ring. “Oh, dear God. Frank.” For Jamie, Frank was no more than a ghost, the dim possibility of a refuge for me, in the unlikely event of necessity. For me, Frank was the man I had lived with, had shared my bed and body with—had abandoned, at the last, to stay with Jamie Fraser. “I can’t,” I whispered, to the empty air, to the small companion who stretched and twisted lazily within me, undisturbed by my own distress. “I can’t let him do it!” The afternoon light had faded into the gray shades of dusk, and the room seemed filled with all the despair of the world’s ending. Tomorrow’s dawn will see you dead. There was no hope of finding Jamie tonight. I knew he would not return to the Rue Tremoulins; he wouldn’t have left that note if he were coming back. He could never lie beside me through the night, knowing what he intended doing in the morning. No, he had undoubtedly sought refuge in some inn or tavern, there to ready himself in solitude for the execution of justice that he had sworn. I thought I knew where the place of execution would be. With the memory of his first duel strong in his mind, Jamie had shorn his hair in preparation. The memory would have come to him again, I was sure, when choosing a spot to meet his enemy. The Bois de Boulogne, near the path of the Seven Saints. The Bois was a popular place for illicit duels, its dense growth sheltering the participants from detection. Tomorrow, one of its shady clearings would see the meeting of Jamie Fraser and Jack Randall. And me. I lay on the bed, not bothering to undress or cover myself, hands clasped across my belly. I watched the twilight fade to black, and knew I would not sleep tonight. I took what comfort I could in the small movements of my unseen inhabitant, with the echo of Jamie’s words ringing in my ears: Tomorrow’s dawn will see you dead.

The Bois de Boulogne was a small patch of almost-virgin forest, perched incongruously on the edge of Paris. It was said that wolves as well as foxes and badgers were still to be found lurking in its depths, but this story did nothing to discourage the amorous couples that dallied under the branches on the grassy earth of the forest. It was an escape from the noise and dirt of the city, and only its location kept it from becoming a playground for the nobility. As it was, it was patronized largely by those who lived nearby, who found a moment’s respite in the shade of the large oaks and pale birches of the Bois, and by those from farther away who sought privacy.[...]

The carriage pulled to a stop on the road that led through the Bois, near the last small cluster of ramshackle buildings. I had told the coachman what to do; he swung down from his seat, tethered the horses, and disappeared among the buildings. The folk who lived near the Bois knew what went on there. There could not be that many spots suitable for dueling; those there were would be known. I sat back and pulled the heavy cloak tighter around me, shivering in the cold of the early dawn. I felt terrible, with the fatigue of a sleepless night dragging at me, and the leaden weight of fear and grief resting in the pit of my stomach. Overlying everything was a seething anger that I tried to push away, lest it interfere with the job at hand. It kept creeping back, though, bubbling up whenever my guard was down, as it was now. How could he do this? my mind kept muttering, in a cold fury. I shouldn’t be here; I should be home, resting quietly by Jamie’s side. I shouldn’t have to be pursuing him, preventing him, fighting both anger and illness. A nagging pain from the coach ride knotted at the base of my spine. Yes, he might well be upset; I could understand that. But it was a man’s life at stake, for God’s sake. How could his bloody pride be more important than that? And to leave me, with no word of explanation! To leave me to find out from the gossip of neighbors what had happened. “You promised me, Jamie, damn you, you promised me!” I whispered, under my breath. The wood was quiet, dripping and mist-shrouded. Were they here already? Would they be here? Was I wrong in my guess about the place?

The coachman reappeared, accompanied by a young lad, perhaps fourteen, who hopped nimbly up on the seat beside the coachman, and waved his hand, gesturing ahead and to the left. With a brief crack of the whip and a click of the tongue, the coachman urged the horses into a slow trot, and we turned down the road into the shadows of the wakening wood. We stopped twice, pausing while the lad hopped down and darted into the undergrowth, each time reappearing within a moment or two, shaking his head in negation. The third time, he came tearing back, the excitement on his face so evident that I had the carriage door open before he got near enough to call out to the coachman. I had money ready in my hand; I thrust it at him, simultaneously clutching at his sleeve, saying, “Show me where! Quickly, quickly!”

I scarcely noticed either the clutching branches that laced across the path, nor the sudden wetness that soaked my clothing as I brushed them. The path was soft with fallen leaves, and neither my shoes nor those of my guide made any sound as I followed the shadow of his ragged, damp-spotted shirt. I heard them before I saw them; they had started. The clash of metal was muffled by the wet shrubbery, but clear enough, nonetheless. No birds sang in the wet dawn, but the deadly voice of battle rang in my ears. It was a large clearing, deep in the Bois, but accessible by path and road. Large enough to accommodate the footwork needed for a serious duel. They were stripped to their shirts, fighting in the rain, the wet fabric clinging, showing the outline of shoulder and backbone. Jamie had said he was the better fighter; he might be, but Jonathan Randall was no mean swordsman, either. He wove and dodged, lithe as a snake, sword striking like a silver fang. Jamie was just as fast, amazing grace in such a tall man, light-footed and sure-handed. I watched, rooted to the ground, afraid to cry out for fear of distracting Jamie’s attention. They spun in a tight circle of stroke and parry, feet touching lightly as a dance on the turf. I stood stock-still, watching. I had come through the fading night to find this, to stop them. And having found them, now I could not intervene, for fear of causing a fatal interruption. All I could do was wait, to see which of my men would die. [...]

Through a blackening mist, I saw Jamie’s sword come down, graceful and deadly, cold as death. The point touched the waist of the doeskin breeches, pierced and cut down in a twisting wrench that darkened the fawn with a sudden flood of black-red blood. The blood was a hot rush down my thighs, and the chill of my skin moved inward, toward the bone. The bone where my pelvis joined my back was breaking; I could feel the strain as each pain came on, a stroke of lightning flashing down my backbone to explode and flame in the basin of my hips, a stroke of destruction, leaving burnt and blackened fields behind. My body as well as my senses seemed to fragment. I saw nothing, but could not tell whether my eyes were open or closed; everything was spinning dark, patched now and then with the shifting patterns you see at night as a child, when you press your fists against shut eyelids. The raindrops beat on my face, on my throat and shoulders. Each heavy drop struck cold, then dissolved into a tiny warm stream, coursing across my chilled skin. The sensation was quite distinct, apart from the wrenching agony that advanced and retreated, lower down. I tried to focus my mind on that, to force my attention from the small, detached voice in the center of my brain, the one saying, as though making notes on a clinical record: “You’re having a hemorrhage, of course. Probably a ruptured placenta, judging from the amount of blood. Generally fatal. The loss of blood accounts for the numbness in hands and feet, and the darkened vision. They say that the sense of hearing is the last to go; that seems to be true.” Whether it were the last of my senses to be left to me or not, hearing I still had. And it was voices I heard, most agitated, some striving for calmness, all speaking in French. There was one word I could hear and understand—my own name, shouted over and over, but at a distance. “Claire! Claire!” “Jamie,” I tried to say, but my lips were stiff and numb with cold. Movement of any kind was beyond me. The commotion near me was settling to a steadier level; someone had arrived who was at least willing to act as though they knew what to do. Perhaps they did. The soaked wad of my skirt was lifted gently from between my thighs, and a thick pad of cloth thrust firmly into place instead. Helpful hands turned me onto my left side, and drew my knees up toward my chest. “Take her to the Hôpital,” suggested one voice near my ear. “She won’t live that long,” said another, pessimistically. “Might as well wait a few minutes, then send for the meat wagon.” “No,” insisted another. “The bleeding is slowing; she may live. Besides, I know her; I’ve seen her at L’Hôpital des Anges. Take her to Mother Hildegarde.”

I summoned all the strength I had left, and managed to whisper, “Mother.” Then I gave up the struggle, and let the darkness take me.

24 THE BOIS DE BOULOGNE ~Dragonfly in amber

[meraki-yao]

Dropping in to say your crying at the vows Payneland was SUPERB! Is it too late for 🤬 Payneland? If so no stress at all! Your writing is awesome!

Hi! Oh my God, thank you so much! I'm glad you liked the last one! Thank you for the prompt and sorry for this being late!

🤬Argument with a family member

This is a human/alive AU by the way!

TW: Paul Rowland being a homophobic, abusive asshole, homophobic slurs

Charles freezes, his fiancé’s hand tightening on his arm. Standing in front of their wedding venue entrance, arguing with the security, is his father who he hasn’t seen in years. After struggling through university on his own and meeting Edwin Payne, he took off and ran far away from home, cutting all contact with his parents while building a new home with the love of his life. A few years down the line, he and Edwin created a cipher to communicate with his mother. But throughout all of this, they have deliberately steered clear of his father. His father, who beat him senseless; his father, who locked his lanky teenage self in the basement that he lived in since he was five; his father, who nearly ripped his pierce off his ear, calling him homophobic slur years before he came to terms with his bisexuality. After Charles confessed his trauma after a particularly violent nightmare, Edwin had held him and promised that he would never let Paul Rowland near him ever again. Charles had gripped his boyfriend’s waist and promised the same: he cannot ever let his father lay a hand on sweet, gentle, loving Edwin. But he’s here now, at their rehearsal dinner, and he can’t help but freeze at the sight. Why? How? What is he doing here? How did he find him out after so long? What do I do now? Charles’ eyes meet his dad’s and the next thing he knows, Paul Rowland is pushing the security guard to the ground and comes marching their way, the rage on his face horrifyingly familiar. He has to move, he has to leave, he has to protect Edwin— But he can’t move. He’s frozen in place, legs turned to jelly. He wants to scream and cry but only quick puffs of breaths come out. Just before his dad can shout a curse at them, Edwin suddenly steps forward, pushing Charles behind him. “Excuse me, sir.” He says eerily calmly, which is a sign that he’s actually angry. “I don’t believe you’re invite to this function. You are trespassing right now, please kindly leave the premise before we have to call the authorities.” “Move out of the way, you fag. I’m here to talk to my son.” Paul Rowland growls, and Charles flinches, he wants to grab Edwin’s hand and run. “As you can clearly see, Charles does not want to talk to you. Now, leave.” Edwin continue, not phased by the slur. “CHARLES! YOU FUCKING USELESS PIECE OF SHIT, HIDING BEHIND A FAIRY?” The familiar roar rings in Charles’ ear. He can’t fucking breathe oh God oh fuck— BAM! Edwin, his sweet Edwin who has always gravitated to words, who he has tried to get into boxing without much success, punches his dad square in the jaw. Both Rowlands stare at him in shock. “YOU FUCKER! HOW DARE YOU—” “No, you listen here.” Edwin states, a dangerous edge in his voice. “We have given you multiple warnings. I will not allow you to come here, ruin our joyous occasion and do any harm to my fiancé, physical or otherwise. The police can deal with you now, we’re done here.” He lays a hand on Charles’ back, gentle despite the situation, and leads him away as the police who have finally arrived come and pull his dad away for questioning. They’ll need to provide their recount too, but Edwin insisted that they’ll deal with that later. They enter the dressing room of the venue where Charles collapses onto a chair. Edwin kneels before him, hand cupping his cheek, thumb swiping under his eyes. “Charles, please tell me what’s going on.” “No, it’s nothing, I’ll be fine I— Holy shit, Edwin, you punched my dad!” “Yes well, I very well couldn’t stand there and let him cause you even more distress, and he was clearly not going to listen to a word I say, sometimes actions do speak louder than words.” Charles pulls Edwin into his lap and wraps his arm around his waist, nose buried in his neck, breathing the familiar scent. Edwin’s hand goes to his curls as he presses kisses on to the top of his head. God, how lucky is he, to have such a wonderful person to call his? “We’ll be alright, my love,” Edwin whispers. “I promise, we’ll be alright.” Charles has never doubted him.

[locallixie]

hi!

can you do a chan angst but with fluff ending?

love your work 🫶🏻

us first — bang chan

> summary . it wasn’t just your fault, it seemed the both of you were in the wrong for lashing out at each other the way you did that night.

> genre . angst, fluff, domestic au, married life, husband!chan, gn!reader.

> warnings . argument, minor language.

(wc) > 3.1k

(sunny's note) ☆ oh my god is this angsty, the playlist i had playing the background when i was writing this really got me in my feelings.

It was one of those nights again, one of those nights where you had to go to bed by your lonesome. It has been like this for the past couple months, he hasn’t been coming home for a long long while now. You didn’t think you could even recall the features of his face anymore. You could not remember how his cologne smells like, or how his stature stood beside you. It almost felt as if you were never married at all.

Gazing at the silver wedding band that wrapped neatly around your finger, has this thing lost its meaning? It supposed to be a union, not a separation. Without him around, the ring you wore was just another random accessory that carried no significant. It came in a pair, did it not? The rings from a velvet box, it tied his soul to yours.

You knew to give up hope earlier than you expected, sat yourself straight with the reality that he was not coming home anytime soon. Chan has always been a workaholic, he would sometimes canceled dates ‘cause of how much work he had. You understood, or at least tried to. He only did it on rare occasions though, and if he did, he would make it up to you. However, that was during the time you two were still young and filled with passion. You were too in love to foresee the future when he proposed.

Now that you were in this situation, you couldn’t help but regret a bit. Overjoyed, you said ‘yes’ too fast. Was this what you really wanted? Or did you simply not want to embarrass him? You were sure with your feelings for each other, you were confident with your relationship. But sometimes you wished you spent a little more time thinking about your decision the day he proposed to you, if you didn’t let your heart fully speak for you.

Won’t be home ‘til two, don’t wait up. | 11:45pm

“You're always making me wait, you jerk.” You sighed, having some sadness peaking through your voice. You held no resentment for your husband, but in this case, you sure did have some hatred. He had forgotten you, where were his priorities? You didn’t want to be selfish, but you were his spouse, you should have a say in this relationship too. The 'your' was plural, it wasn't singular.

You couldn't sleep tonight, tossing and turning in your bed in distress. Your mind was in a disorder, thoughts kept flying across your head, thoughts that you repelled wholeheartedly. His warmth, you missed. The bed felt cold, a bit too cold for your liking. You knew your husband haven't even been coming into bed with you, he slept on the couch outside in the living room. At least it was the couch, and not the bed of another.

Where was he? At this late of a time? Please come home, you needed him. In desperation, you could only called out to him with your aching chest. No missed calls, a simple text message hurted so much more. You didn't feel like picking up your phone, it was all hopeless. Whatever he was working on, his total focus would be on that. But if he could just check his buzzing phone for one second, would he remember about you?

You couldn't help the tears, it had a mind of its own but a fragment of yours came along. The fabric of your pillows was the only thing wiping away your tears for you, wetted with the woe of yours. This bed was now too spacious for you, you hated how much space he left you with.

Crying to ease yourself to sleep, you felt light-headed enough to pass out. This sleep felt forced, felt like a distraction for you to forget momentarily. It seemed that you were going to miss his arrival once more, why did you try to stay up in the first place? Oh, it was the fact you had to constantly remind yourself that he loved you, he was busy and couldn't get home in time.

The clock told you it was the middle of the night, you awoken unwillingly with your head banging painfully. The door to your bedroom was still shut tight, but you saw a small ray of light peaking in through the cracks. Putting on your cardigan that you had threw on the floor earlier in a fit of silenced rage.

You got off the bed, leaving your shared bedroom. Despite how heavy your eyelids were, you could still make sense of the figure sitting on the couch. The T.V wasn't on, his bag was on the floor as well—he probably got back not too long ago.

"Hey, did I wake you up?" His voice sounded odd, deeper and tired. Not just that, you couldn't register in your head that that was the voice of your husband.

You sat down beside him, "Why are you not in bed?"

Chan looked at you, hesitant at the sudden question. You didn't bother to answer his. "I just got back a minute before, don't worry about it, I'll just finish a few things then I'll come—"

"You still have work?" You cut him off, not sensing the anger that was building up inside of you. He was pushing your limit and your patience, how longer must you wait to have one night with him just in bed with you?

Chan stopped for a second, the tone that you chose to deliver in was unlike you. “Yeah, why don’t you go back to bed, okay honey?”

After all that working, making you wait for God know how long, and he still have shit to do? He wasn’t just a workaholic like you thought he was, your husband was literally work obsessed. At this point, all he could think about was work, work, and work. In the span of the couple months he spent being away, the only thing occupied his mind would be his work. The songs he had to produce for his company’s artists, the meetings he had to attend, the ludicrous amount of paperwork about copyright infringement that he has to resolve. Not one second did he stop and think of the one waiting for him at home every night and day.

“You haven’t even been in bed for the past couple months, why are you telling me to go back?” Asked, the disappointment he left you was unbearable. He kept playing around, toying with the tiny bit of hope left in you that he would be back home early for once. Ever since you two got married, he has been working more and even overtime. As long as you remembered, you two haven’t went on your honeymoon yet. Did he put a ring on your finger and left as if your title as his spouse was a mere status symbol?

“Honey, let’s not do this. I’m stressed out and exhausted, and I don’t want to pick a fight with you right now.” Chan sighed, rubbing his face into the palm of his hands.

It had been too long, you were done with the stupid mind games he put you through. You wanted to pick a fight, wether he like it or not. You didn’t care about anything else, you would rather argue with him than not seeing him at all. You would happily pick a hundred fights with him if you could, as long as you’d get to be with him.

Your volume started getting louder, “And what if I want to? You don’t fucking care about me anymore! Is this the only way I can get you to pay some attention on me?” Tearing up, throat becoming tighter as you continued to force your words out.

Before he got a chance to reply, you interrupted him once more. “Shut up, you’re always telling me to wait, how about you wait until I’m finished saying what I got to say?”

You agreed that was quite rude of you, out-of-character might you add. But gosh were you angry, it has been sitting on your chest and making it hard for you to breathe for a while. There were many things you wanted to say, the only problem was that he was simply never home for you to do so. Until now that was, on the rare chance of having him in the same room as you. You were face-to-face with your husband, screaming and crying while he sat there without a clear emotion.

“The only thing you’re concerned about now is your work! What am I to you then, an after thought?! If you’re so interested in your work, why don’t you just leave me and go marry it already?!” You told.

“Can’t you see that I’m working to support us? I’m trying my hardest to put food on the table and shelter over our head, so what if I come home late or not at all, at least you’re not waiting for me on the cold fucking street!” He instantly retorted.

Furrowing your eyebrows, you tried wiping away the tears falling from your eyes but they kept coming nonstop. “Fuck you, Chan! I’m working too, it wasn’t my idea to move in together when we had nothing to our names!”

You deserved credit too, you were dealing with your full-time job to bring money in for both you and him. You weren’t a housewife, depending on Chan to survive. Instead, you were out there fighting for your life in a crazily competitive industry. Yes, you must admit that Chan contributed the most in your relationship, but that didn’t mean that he could throw you away along with your accomplishments.

You two were both broke college students when he popped the question, it was a risky decision back then. Everything that weighted heavily on your blossoming romance was the harsh reality, student loans, rents, and the debts that you both were in from your marriage. Young and dumb, what an era to be dead. What if you didn't say 'I do'? What if you told him to wait a bit longer? Then you two wouldn't be in this position, screaming at each other's faces with venom and knives.

"My mother was right about you! That I shouldn't have settle down in a rush like that! I had my whole life planned out ahead, but you came and ruined everything I have ever worked for!" You yelled at him, the plans you made didn't include him. He, was the part of the story in which you did not plan to write in the beginning, out of the blue he appeared in front of your eyes.

"Oh yeah?! You don't think that I want better things for my career? But I agreed to step down just because I didn't want any fame to get between us, if I haven't asked you to marry me then I would be out there making millions in a foreign country!" And he too was crying with you, his eyes and ears was flushed red in regrets.

"You know what, Chan?" You had enough of him, you couldn't stand another day living this soulless life in a house where it was cold and woeful. Taking off the ring that bind you two together, you threw it at him. "Let's end this, let's get a divorce."

Running away in tears, you locked yourself in your bedroom. No matter how many times he was going to knock or call out your name, you weren't going to open yourself any time soon. This time, you would be closing it off for good. So was this the end? That was it? You wished you and him could have a different ending, but from how you both acted, there wasn't any chance it seemed.

Like you expected, as soon as you opened the door, he was no where to be found. This house felt nothing like home, the shades of blue you two painted it with. For the next few days, he was not going to be home. You did not receive a single text, much less a call from him. He didn't tell you where he was, or when he was going to be home. The line has gone quiet, and you had no idea of how to fix it—or if you should even fix it at all.

A cold war between spouses, neither of you were ready to apologize to the other. Of course you were mad at him, furious even. However, you were at fault for lashing out at him the way you did, how could you? The words you spoke were totally out of anger, you didn't mean it. No, maybe you did a bit—and you guilty of it. As far as you knew, you messed up big time.

Stubborn, you wanted to be, kept waiting for him to finally break off this foolish war that you started. You admitted that you were quite embarrassed and scared to face him again, you were such a coward with your true feelings that you would rather hide and wait for the other person. You were wrong, but you were not ready to face that truth yet. In the back of your mind, every part was building up the courage to tell him that you were sorry. Sorry for a lot of things, or sorry for everything. Because you knew, if you kept up with this recreant act, you may not see him ever again.

That pain in your chest, between your ribs kept aching. Day after day, the absence of him slowly broke you down little by little. It started with the thoughts of him, how his image and the happier moments you made together began replaying in your head without a stop. It had gotten so bad to the point you were desperate, hugging the clothes he left in the closet. Anything, you would give anything! If it meant that Chan would be back home, you were ready to give up so much for him.

You haven't eaten much these recent weeks, your body was weak and slowing down from the lack of nutrients. The silenced conflict you had gotten yourself in has taken quite a toll on you, missed one or two work days, shed some tears here and there. Still holding onto one of his black hoodie, the scent of his perfume was beginning to fade away already. The only thing that was never going to disappear from your grasp was the music he wrote, all his wonderful songs that his artists blew life into. You couldn't stop listening to them, even if his sweet voice wasn't present, the lyrics had a piece of his heart and half a piece of his soul.

The sad love songs he wrote lured you to sleep, the lullaby of a devoted husband. One more time, you begged with the entirety of yourself for him to come back home. You were raising the white flag, you were backing down and asking to restore peace. No more fights, your husband was enough for you, you would not ask for more.

As you awoken for tomorrow, there were no life left over for you. Immediately closing your eyes to shut out everything, at this moment, it felt as if everything was going to hurt you. A cold feeling kissed your skin when you went to wipe your wet eyes, it contrasted drastically on your warm cheeks. Your sight fixed itself on the wedding band around your finger, it took a minute for you to realize that it was physically there in front of the shock on your face.

The weight on your stomach wasn't just the blanket, a whole arm laid over your body. Nothing could describe the feeling you were going through, finally seeing your husband soundly sleeping on the same bed as you. Every time you tried to move, he pulled you a bit closer to him. The touches of his rough calloused fingers brushed appreciation upon your skin, worn out from working, to you were gentle nonetheless.

This life would be nothing without him, sometimes the rain will be falling and the sun will hide away. Although, it was terrible, especially when you were out there wet with no umbrella. After the gods stop crying, something wondrous was bound to happen. Either it was sunlight pouring upon everything, or him running to you just as wet with a coat in hand.

I love you | 2:45am

You were his person, his desire, and his pride. He too, would be a nobody without you. This life that you created together from nothing to something. The doors wouldn't have to close as long as he was here beside you, he would polish your lock and share the keys with you.

Lowering your ego, pressing your lips on his forehead. It wasn't worth it to fight, everything got blown out of proportions. Let's both agree to come home and see eye-to-eye again. In a weak voice, you spoke to him. "I'm sorry."

In answer, you received his soft lips on yours. Pulling you to him, his hand holding you nape. When was the last time he kiss you? Too long to remember. A hazy memories yet you wanted to live in the present. Reminiscence held no meaning, 'cause it felt every emotions you once felt and every thought you once had was happening right here right now. If he could hold you forever and never have a single thought of letting you go, you were ready to see the end with him.

"I'm in the wrong, honey, don't you say sorry." Chan replied, wrapping his arms around you once again. Holding you sweetly as he pulled the covers over your body. Whatever time of day it was, you two would happily miss works for your reunion.

"Chan, but it was not right of me to blow up on you like that. If I could have been a little nicer, and have a bit more patience—"

Chan interrupted, "Stop talking, I love you, okay? I don't care what happened or is going to happen, I just care about you." He held your left hand to his lips, kissing it with all the love and adoration he saved in him for solely you. "From now on, I'm putting us first."

For once, this house actually felt like home. The warmth that now arrived from its long hiatus, may it co-exist with you and your husband for eternity. Yes, you would be having many more fights in the near future, but for only this moment, you were going to live in the present in his embrace.

[kakashisenppai]

dunno if you're still looking for kakashi ideas buttt...

can i request a proposal or wedding oneshot with hokage kakashi pls? ty <3

sure! i saw you said hcs were fine too but i tried to do an oneshot tho =) anyways, heres kakashi proposing, kinda long lol, hope you like it! <3

hokage!kakashi x f!reader

word count: 3.1k

___________________

tag, you're it.

'it's today' kakashi thought, breathing deeply probably for the thousandth time that day. he had it planned for about a month but he couldn't help to feel anxious as the time got closer. touching the little velvet box in his pocket, kakashi watched the clock on his wall, wondering if time got slower since he step his foot there. he was waiting, not so patiently, for his lunch hour just to see you. everyday you stopped by to hand him his lunch or even eat together, but today it was going to be different, early that morning kakashi asked you if you two could go to Ichiraku get some ramen at his lunch time, and you agreed without a doubt, but actually he planned to take you on a walk by the river, where close by there was a picnic ready and waiting for you and then, lately he would finally ask you those four words he's been dying to say to you.

"are you waiting for someone?" he heard shikamaru's voice next to him, bringing him back to reality.

"huh?"

"I said are you waiting for someone? you're staring at the clock for some time now" the younger male affirmed, placing a pile of papers on his desk.

"just waiting for lunch, I'm kind of hungry" he tried to change the subject "and these are...?" he pointed to the papers in front of him.

"work. and you better be fast kakashi-sensei, there's more coming by the afternoon" he said turning away.

"thanks, shikamaru..." he said low while the boy closed the door behind him. kakashi shoulders got tense as he looked at it, taking a deep breath he didn't waist time to start, he had two hours until you came. by the time you walked through the door, kakashi placed the last paper sheet on the pile beside him, he rushed to get it all done and fortunately he had managed it just in time.

"hi, love" he said getting up to greet you with a kiss on your cheek.

"hey, babe, are you ready?" you smiled at him, placing your hand on his arm.

"for you? always" he joked, trying to act normal. you just laughed lightly, giving him a pat on the chest.

"should we get going then?" just as he was about to answer, you two got interrupted by shizune and shikamaru walking in with huge piles of paper, being followed by two other people holding just as much paper.

"hate to be a killjoy, but you have to get these ready till tomorrow" shikamaru explained while kakashi looked at him with wide eyes "and there's more coming". kakashi took a deep breath placing his hand on his face, frustrated about this inconvenience. he looked at you in the eyes and you could see the distress in them, smiling slightly you tried to reassure him.

"it's okay 'kashi, I'll go buy us some ramen and then we can eat here together, okay?" you caressed his covered cheek while he looked down at you, disappointed.

"I will make it up to you"

"there's no need, now go sit and get it started because I want you home tonight, I will be right back." you gave him a quick peck and turned away leaving the room, kakashi only stood there, hand in pocket touching the little box.

"hogake-sama?" shizune called him. now, taking a deep breath for the thousand and third time that day, kakashi sat by his desk and started once again those endless piles, upset his plan was ruined.

afterward when you came back with lunch, you two ate side by side, and after that you insisted to stay there with him, switching between helping him with paperwork and massaging his shoulders through the hours. when the sun was already down, he insisted you you go home, promising you he wouldn't stay all night there.

the two hands of the clock were up, indicating it was midnight when kakashi got home. taking his sandals and his hogake cloak off, he saw you on the couch, wrapped in a blanket watching whatever was on the tv. you glanced at the tired man in front of you, opening your arms you invited him over to your embrace and kakashi didn't even flinch when he moved to sit between your legs, hiding his face in your chest and holding you as close as possible to him.

"long day, huh?" you asked, stroking his soft silver hair.

"the longest. thanks for staying with me through the afternoon, I really appreciate it" he uttered.

"it's okay love, I just want to be by your side".

"forever?" he closed his eyes.

"forever".

kakashi then relaxed, drifting into sleep thinking tomorrow was going to be the day, he was going to ask you tomorrow. tomorrow.

✂

kakashi was hopeful as his lunch time was getting closer, he again asked you to go to Ichiraku together and for the second time his clone got the picnic prepared. today everything was going to be fine, no paperwork to get done and no shinuze or shikamaru to trap him there all night. kakashi patted the box in his pocket, waiting for the time to come. he was going to ask you today. as the time passed, kakashi was getting impatient, usually you're never late and that was enough reason to get him anxious. the silver haired man then decided to summon his ninken to help him.

"congratulation, boss" pakkun said right away, trying to look nonchalant.

"I didn't asked her yet, pakkun" he started, looking at the dog frustrated "but I need a favour".

kakashi then proceeded to explain everything to pakkun and what he needed to do so his plan could work, the dog only agreed and told kakashi to relax, put this matter on his paws meant job done. kakashi only sighed, wishing pakkun a good luck when he saw the dog leave his office.

after hours of waiting, pakkun walked in the room, carrying a box on his back. kakashi stopped everything he was doing and looked at the dog, waiting for him to talk and actually explain why he took so long. when he noticed pakkun was waiting for him to say something, he arched an eyebrow in question.

"she's taking care of Mirai, boss, she said Kurenai had an emergency and she forgot to contact you. she also made me bring you food," kakashi exhaled, resting his head on the back of the chair " there's biscuits for me too, so pay attention to not take them." pakkun jumped on his lap, patting kakashi on the leg to get his attention.

"I should eat your biscuits just because you made me wait for so long" kakashi provoked the dog, who groaned at him in response. he tried not to get disappointed again by the fail, so he just reheated the food his girlfriend made and ate, enjoying his dog presence.

tomorrow, he was going to ask you tomorrow. tomorrow.

✂

on the third day, everything was more than prepared, no paperwork, no unforeseen, no problem ahead. when you got there, kakashi quickly took you outside the hogake tower, not letting anyone interrupt you two. you walked beside him watching your way while kakashi watched you closely, distracted by your lovely figure next to him, he only noticed his surroundings when you started to get closer to Ichiraku. surprising you, kakashi took your hand and started to guide you in the opposite direction from the restaurant, you looked at him confused and he only gave you a warm smile. you decided not to ask, you trusted him with your life after all. taking his hand in yours, you intertwined your fingers, walking along with him.

you were already outside the populated part of Konoha, getting closer and closer to the river. kakashi was sweating as the anxiety dropped his stomach on his feet, the hot weather didn't help him at all with the shivers down his spine. watching him from your side eye, you finally spoke.

"what are you planning, kakashi?"

"nothing, love" he looked at you "I just thought we could enjoy the weather together". you looked at him suspicious, but decided to believe him anyway.

the walk was calm, the spring wind was blowing the flowers around you, helping the romantic vibe. kakashi was happy about how well this was turning out, you looked comfortable and joyful by his side, making he believe he couldn't be more in love. you stopped on your feet, turning your face to look at him surprised, he took a moment to realize you two were already by where his clone prepared the picnic.

"what is that, kakashi?" you squeezed his hand. kakashi looked over the blanket where the basket, the champagne and flowers were sat.

"for me looks like a surprise for a lovely person" he said playfully. you patted him on the shoulder and ran over the blanket, kakashi chose the right location under a big tree, making the river look ever more bright and clear from there, he was happy that place didn't not change at all along the years.

we walked slowly to you and places both of his arms around your waist, holding you tight from behind.

"I hope you like it" he placed a kiss on the top of your head.

"oh 'kashi, i loved it" you turned around, placing your arms around his neck "it's beautiful", you slowly took his mask down and placed a tender kiss on his lips.

"not as beautiful as you though" he answered when you broke the kiss, giving you a quick peck on the lips again "are you hungry?". kakashi watched as you happily agreed with him.

you two sat down next to each other and kakashi started to take things off the basket, he bought all of your favourites, and you watched it admired, it was almost like a mini feast for the two of you. kakashi could see not only in your eyes, but in your face as well how delighted you were and he couldn't be more satisfied by that. you two ate calmly, enjoying each other presence, the whole evening was full of food, conversation, laughter and caresses.

when you two were leaning on the tree, champagne glasses empty and your head on his shoulder, kakashi felt like it was the right time, so he turned at you taking a deep breath, taking your hand in his he turned your attention to him.

"y/n, my love, I don't know if your remember, but this was the place we met, right under this three" you shook in head in agreement, "since that day you became the most important person in my life, we were both fourteen years old and we were both going through tough times..., when I met you I felt a connection, and as the years went by I fell in love with you" he took his hand inside his pocked, holding your left hand only "and now, after so many things together, after a war, and after becoming hogake, after so many years..." he switch hands, holding your left hand with his right one, looking for the box in his other pocket "after so many years... I just know I couldn't be more in love with you..." he patted his back pockets lightly "I love you more than you could ever know... y/n..." he patted the pocket on his leg, looking in your tearfully eyes.

kakashi stopped for a moment, not believing this was happening. shit, shit shit. he held his head in his hand, taking a deep breath. this couldn't be happening.

"baby, what's wrong?" you asked seeing he changed his behaviour.

"I think I lost my keys" he came with an excuse, deadpan expression on his face. he stared at you, and for a moment you just stayed there looking at each other, until you break in laughter. kakashi didn't know how to react, but seeing you laugh that much, holding your belly in your hands, calmed him down, not believing his forgetfulness in such moment, he only could laugh at himself. you laid on your back, still laughing and he laid by your side, watching the tears fall from the corner of your eyes.

"oh my god" you said, trying to calm down "I love you so much, kakashi" you looked at him, smiling brighter than the sun "I love you so fucking much" you gave him a peck on his covered lips "thanks for today, love, I will never forget it" you shifted positions, laying your head on his chest, for a moment he became nervous about his heartbeat, but didn't mind as you cuddled him.

"me neither, darling" he placed his arm around your waist, and he didn't lie, he could he ever forget how he forgot the ring to propose you on that day.

✂

the dark clouds became closer and closer to the village as the hours went by, kakashi and you were walking peacefully through the village, he early decided shizuke, shikamaru and naruto could handle things today, so he decided to take the day off to spend it with you. he was holding three bags in one of his hands, the other one was holding yours tenderly, after you went home yesterday, you two couldn't get off each other, you were still inebriated in kakashi's words and kakashi was still trying to pretend like he wasn't going to propose you yesterday, but he still had a plan. you two stopped at Ichiraku to get some lunch before going home.

"y/n, I was thinking if we could take a walk with the dogs today" he said when you two got home.

"I'm totally up, but we should go before it starts to rain" you mentioned.

the eight dogs walked around you two, you were close to the same river as yesterday, but near the training grounds this time, still no one around, you two were quiet, but not uncomfortable.

"how did you manage to get out that office today?" you looked at him.

"I said naruto could practice being hogake for a day and shikamaru being his right hand without me to train him, shizune is supervising them though" he explained to her.

"ugh, I hope naruto can become the hogake soon so I can have you all for me" you said playfully.

"you already have me all for you, darling, duh" kakashi pulled you close by your waist, placing a small kiss on your forehead.

"but not as much as I would like" you placed a peck on his lips, kakashi took his mask off and pulled your lips together again, tasting the sweet ice cream flavour you had before on your tongue. you wrapped your hands around his neck, pulling the hair on his nape slightly. you two broke the kiss when the first drop of rain fell on your heads, looking to the sky, you two smiled at each other before sharing another kiss. the ninken who were close to you decided to run, happy about the earth becoming mud under their paws.

"oh, it's going to be a mess" you said, watching them play with each other.

"yeah, but a really cute one" he added.

"can't disagree"

you two watched as they played happily, mud now all over them. distracting you for a while, kakashi placed his vest on your shoulders, you gave him a smile and accepted it, wearing it fully and closing it around your torso. you two were now soaked from head to toe but you didn't even mind, you were happy with each other presence and nothing could change that. for a seconds you didn't even comprehend the words who came out of shiba's mouth as he got closer to you, a second later before a 'tag, you're it' you slipped on your feet as the dog jumped on you, making you fall butt on the ground.

"sorry!" the grey dog said before running away from you.

"thanks, shiba!" you voiced while kakashi only laughed at you "help me, 'kashi" you insisted, when he gave you his hand, you held it and pulled him to the ground as well "tag, you're it" you said, now laughing as well.

"what a dirty game" he declared, smiling playfully "I suggest you to run now" he said taunting you "I'm gonna count till five"

when kakashi started to count, you quickly got up on your feet, staying closer to the dogs. once he started to run, it was pure chaos, the dogs rushed around, trying to scape from him and you ran trying to stay on your foot, slippering most of the time. you ten played for a long time, slippering, falling and laughing, over and over again. it was kakashi's turn again when he made you his target, you tried your best to dodge from his touch, but when you got out of breath and placed your hands on your knees, you heard kakashi stop close to you letting out a giggle, you closed your eyes, trying to steady yourself, saying 'just a sec' to him. when you got up, you almost fell again as you saw kakashi on his knees, holding a little black velvet box in his hand.

"tag, you're it" he said opening it, revealing the prettiest ring you have ever seen. you watched him mouth-open, not knowing what to say, you felt tears forming in your eyes as he cleaned his throat, opening his mouth to say something "y/n, I love you, will-", you didn't let him finish as you jumped on him, making him fall back on the ground with you on top of him, saying 'yes' multiple times "I didn't even get to finish" he laughed looking at you, you sat on the ground and pulled him to sat in front of you, murmuring a little 'sorry'. taking a deep breath, he looked at you "y/n, will you marry me?" you took his mask down to look right on his face, the smile he gave you melted your heart and you never felt so vulnerable with him looking at you like that.

"yes, kakashi, I will marry you" you answered him, tears now rolling down your checks. kakashi took the ring and putted it in your dirty finger, but you didn't even care, it looked beautiful like that. you held his face with your both hands and kissed him deeply, and as kakashi pulled you closer, the only thing you could hear was the loud voices of the dogs behind you.

it didn't happen as planned, but kakashi didn't wish it to be any different, you were finally his.

________________

ignore any mistakes lol

any feedback will be appreciated, hope you guys like it!!!!

[animeniacss]

Parents!Jeonghan x Reader - The Ornament Fiasco (One-shot)

Synopsis: This is what you and your husband get for daring to take a family picture before your daughter was born. (Inspired by a tiktok I saw)

Genre: One-shot, nonidol!au, parental!au, Domestic, Christmas time, Fluff,

Length: approx. 850 words

The Ornament Fiasco

“Daddy.”

“Yes?” Jeonghan looked down as his daughter padded up to him. He could see something gripped tightly in her hands. She looked up at him. Immediately, she stuck her hands up in his direction. 

Jeonghan knelt to better understand what his daughter was holding so tightly. She offered him a little Christmas ornament, one she had gotten from the recently retrieved box. 

“Aaah.” He gently took the ornament from her, turning it to her view as he held her close. “We got this when Jeonghui was born.” He pointed to each of the little snowmen inside the snowglobe ornament. “See? Mommy, Daddy, Jeonghui.” He pointed to the little photos of each of you placed in each respective snowman. “Uncle Seungcheol gave it to us when Jeonghui was born.” 

Jeonghan expects many things, being the father of a three and eight-year-old. However, he did not expect said three-year-old to look absolutely distraught. “What’s with that face, Haeun?” He asked amusement in his voice.

“Where’s Haeun?” She asked softly. Okay, guess we’re doing this.

Jeonghan smiled a bit. “We got this one before Haeun was born.” Haeun did not seem convinced. How could she not be in a family ornament? Jeonghan went to put the ornament on the tree, but Haeun quickly grabbed it back. 

“Haeun…..” When the girl’s eyes began to water, Jeonghan knew the one day he agreed to set aside to decorate for Christmas with his family might now turn into two. “Where’s Haeun, Daddy?”

Jeonghan chuckled. “Haeun. We got this one before you were born. We didn’t know you were going to be born, yet.” 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his older son, Jeonghui, making his way to the wall. His hands were filled with stockings and little knick-knacks from another box. You were close behind, holding the tools needed to hang them onto the fireplace. 

Haeun’s little whimpers alerted your attention. Whimpers turned to sniffles. Before they could turn to cries, Jeonghan motioned to the ornament box. “Where’s the other one?” He mumbled to himself. Haeun held the ornament tightly as she watched her father rummaging through the box. “Here. Look, Haeun.” He pulled his daughter close to him. He held up an ornament with the four of them, once again customized with name and year. It was taken at Lotte World the previous year. “Here. Mommy, Daddy, Jeonghui, Haeun.” 

That didn’t help. Haeun continued to sob and sniffle as she gripped the snowman ornament. “But Haeun isn’t on it.” She held up the snowman. Jeonghan chuckled as he pressed a kiss to the sobbing toddler's temple.

“Awww Haeun. I know. It’s ok. We have this one.” Once again, attempts to offer her the ornament with her name proved useless. She was so focused on this one in particular. Jeonghan glanced up at you for support but only received a side glance and a smile.

“Wait until she sees our wedding pictures.” You mumbled. Jeonghan snorted a bit. He motioned Haeun to the tree, helping her put the family photo ornament on. When he scooped her into his arms, he guided her hand to an available branch, slipping the loop through the leaves. “There. Okay.” 

Haeun still whimpered as she held the ornament without her name. She pressed on the plastic. Maybe if she opened it they could put her inside. “Haeun, how could we have known you would be born yet?” Jeonghan asked, continuing to hold her in your hands. “We couldn’t guess you’d be a little girl until you were born.”

“But I wanna…” Haeun continued to sob in distress. You looked down at Jeonghui, who held back a little snicker as he hid behind your leg, watching the scene unfold. He, like Jeonghan, was a bit of a mischievous soul behind a gentle face.

“I know you do. I’m sorry.” Jeonghan smiled. “We can get another one for you.” 

You watched as Jeonghui hurried over to the ornament box, rummaging through it for a moment. You watched him, stockings laid across your arm as you waited for your helper. Finally, he pulled one ornament out. 

“Haeun.” He called. Jeonghan watched his son hand an ornament up to his crying sister. “This one only has you! Look!” Jeonghan took the ornament, showing his daughter. It was taken during her first Christmas by your friend, Hao, along with many others that were displayed around the house, some with Jeonghui inside.

“See? Look. That’s baby Haeun.” Jeonghan said. Haeun reached for the little picture, laminated, and punched through with ribbon. She stared at it for a second, her sniffled and sobs finally subsiding.

Jeonghui, like his father, doted on the youngest member of your family.

Jeonghan pressed a kiss to Haeun’s head, ruffling Jeonghui’s hair in the process. However, Haeun immediately began sobbing again.

“Jeonhui-Oppa. Where’s Big Brother Jeonghuiiiiiii?” She continued to sob.

You snorted. When you saw Jeonghan staring you down for support, you simply motioned to the stockings still draped on your arm.

“You can do it, Dad.” You grinned playfully. Jeonghan sighed, diving into another long attempt to calm down your sobbing daughter.

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[ourflagmeansgayrights]

ofmd s2e1 rewatch where i pause to jot down my thoughts and other random shit

not quite a reaction post bc i've already watched the whole thing. not quite a liveblog bc it's one post and it's probably gonna take me a full hour to get through a 28 minute episode at the rate of pausing and typing i'll be doing

s2e1, s2e2, s2e3, s2e4, s2e5, s2e6, s2e7, s2e8

anyway, pirate time:

i love how much fun con is having choking on his own blood

dream!stede's extremely teary face right before he takes off running down the beach is doing psychic damage to me

also dream!stede's stupid ridiculous outfit with all the long ribbons and shit...

ed and stede make contact so hard shjfkhsgjkfd the loud OUGH sounds from both of them

also the return of ed's old beard! i didnt expect to see her at all this season, so that was a surprise.

"babe" "love" im tearing out my own hair

stede has yet to learn that ripping ass near your beloved can be a love language

stede is a terrible fucking roommate just deal with wee john's gas in silence like the rest of them. goddamn.

WHO HAS THE OUR FLAG MEANS DEATH TRAMP STAMP. WHO IS THAT.

i like when the background OST is familiar to me lol the little strings when stede starts his letter throwing me back to s1

olu: that–that's the swede the swede: Im the swede roach: he's single ;) me: *pissing my pants with laughter*

also the direct confirmation that the swede literally doesn't have a name. incredible

shjkfhdhfkj the crew encouraging him. stede's "it's okay" and roach "be brave" im CRYINGGGGG

stede doing customer service is something that can be so personal. "reservation?" "eat my fuckin' shit" "right! walk-ins, then" average restaurant experience

the random background guy saying "my favorite hand!" abt getting stabbed in the hand is making me giggle. i love the humor on this show

why does stede have so much shoulder movement going on when he's walking through the bar. whore behavior.

"this is for mom!" sorry but i want to know more abt whatever's going on there

also the purple mohawk. dope.

buttons is so distressed LET HIM RETURN TO THE SEA THESE CONDITIONS ARE INHUMANE

"i know the odds of you finding this are slim but so were the odds of us finding each other in the first place" IM RIPPING OFF MY OWN SKIN

also stede's lil sad hopeful smile after throwing the bottle... i care him

i love how they make this wedding fucking suck so we don't feel too bad abt the whole massacre thing. "the natural condition of humanity is base and vile. it is the obligation of people of standing, such as yourselves, to elevate the common human rabble through the sacred transaction of matrimony" if i was at a wedding and the officiant said that i'd also start killing people probably

yayy murder montage :)

FANG BREAKING THAT GUY'S SPINE OVER HIS KNEE

the whole cake scene is so fucking funny im sorry. i love u jim drawing the line at attacking a shitty wedding. i love u archie who wasn't here for the good old days so you dont really see a problem with how things are. i love u frenchie with ur box in ur brain that u never open again. i love u fang it's gonna get better i swear. i love u frenchie again bc u just took the cake right out of fang's hands while he was fucking sobbing hfjhgkjhdkjkf

I MISS IVAN JUSTICE FOR IVAN. wish they could've said he'd just fucked off somewhere instead of dying but i think that would've raised the question of why hasn't anyone else fucked off since they all seem so miserable

very relieved that stede isn't taking the racist/antisemitic caricature drawings of ed to make like a boyfriend scrapbook like some people were theorizing. would've been overkill if after episode 4 from last season stede still didn't realize that ed hated these sorts of depictions of him.

INTERESTING DETAIL THO the background music in this scene is "a pirate's life" aka the song frenchie sang in the pilot. it's an instrumental version obviously but yeah i recognize that tune

also more cool background ppl with dyed hair man i love this show

zheng yi sao flirting with olu is so good. he deserves it.

how nice of ed to offer his drugs to the crew. sharing is caring.

also it's so funny to me that the thing izzy is tormented by is ed saying "you can't do the job, someone else will" the toe thing's happened three times and apparently that was fine but the thing the show edits together right before izzy breaks down into the most pathetic aheemheem whimpers isn't any of that it's ed threatening to fire him

also they cut ed throwing knives at izzy!! what the hell.

releasing the clip of izzy crying kinda ruined it for me when it came time to watch it in the show bc i watched it several times since it dropped and now seeing it in context i was like "ok i've seen this already fast forward." i mean i didnt fast forward through it but i did kinda zone out bc i've seen this bit already. this post kinda sums up my thoughts on it

"trifling ingrate plan" dshkjfshgdskhfjkhgkjh

"SEMI-CLEAN WATER"

JACKIE CALLING THE SWEDE "BOO CAKES"

"i know that guy we had breakfast together!" "you'll be having a lot of breakfasts-es together" "oh, okay" i fucking love this whole dynamic like i can tell they're writing the swede out of most of the episodes for budget reasons (sorry nat faxon) but by god do they give him such an excellent fucking send-off. can't wait to see him again when he's in his trophy husband number 20 era

roach is upset abt not being able to cook, buttons is tied up so he doesn't go running back to the sea (i assume). stede you are not giving your crew the environment they need to thrive.

olu being an optimist :)

buttons opens his mouth to drink the rain and in the background u can see roach yanking the rope around buttons back fhdjskgfjhgkjfh STEDE YOUR SEA WITCH CANNOT THRIVE IN THESE CONDITIONS

stede tries to make things sound good in his bottle letters to ed but out loud he says his actual insecurities... it's so fucking tasty tho that he thinks ed could be doing better without him and THAT'S why he's been stalling so much. not afraid for his life even a little bit he just assumes he's not wanted. brb i have to cry now

"im sorry if that's a little bit creepy" "you are creepy" in this scene where they're soaked from the rain. ofmd said this prince ricky guys is creepy and wet.

stede's fucking FACE when prince ricky says "you're my hero" his fucking "clearly you dont own an air fryer" face I CANT STAND HIMMMMMM (affectionate)

prince ricky "these rubes" "men of our standing" yeah i cant fucking stand this guy (derogatory) i love how he's barely even in this episode

stede's face when the swede is talking abt how happy he is with jackie... my man believes in love so much im gonna cry

also in what fucking way does the swede owe them a life debt. roach and buttons literally tried to eat him

izzy's "you know me better than anyone knows me and i daresay the same about you" this is literally so false i dont even know where to begin. izzy in e6 being like "if i didnt know any better i'd think maybe ed might possibly maybe be actually enjoying bonnet's company" while ed and stede are giggling and making each other friendship bracelets. this guy doesn't know ed at all.

also i cant get over how izzy wont make eye contact he's like staring blankly into the middle distance delivering these lines so flatly until he goes to say "i have... love for you" and in that moment he looks like he'd rather ed were feeding him more toes.

"im worried about you, we all are" not gonna lie my dude you've had a weird way of showing it thus far. where was all that worry when you told him he was better off dead than wearing a robe and singing songs?? where was that fucking love then?

and NOW izzy wants to talk it through. izzy literally voted to make blackbeard great again and now he wants to give open communication a chance???

lmao there's a limit to how many characters can be in a bulleted list so here's fucking. part two. on the same post:

ed asking everyone if the vibe is poisonous and fang cant stop crying and ed's face is just like "eh good enough" im fdhksgfkjtdkh

anyway ed with a loaded gun under his chin talking to himself is hurting me so fucking much actually. ed my beloved babygirl for whom i would die. this poor traumatized man. yes he is making this workplace toxic as hell but god. GOD. im gonna throw up.

the way ed is so fucking casual about shooting izzy in the leg. just calm and jovial as he promotes frenchie to first mate. stepping over izzy all crumpled on the floor. everything about this is so fucking good. i mean it's horrible for ed and everyone around him but for me watching the show this shit is DELICIOUS. i love when the pirates get violent and unhinged i love when this shit gets fucked up. ed's mental state is so bad right now and it is causing me severe anguish but also it is so tasty. fuck.

anyway frenchie trying to turn down the promotion fhjkghdfjkhf

the cut to the swede performing the husbandly duties is INSANE. COMPLETE TONAL WHIPLASH. I LOVE THIS SHOW.

"fuck those hammies up!" spanish jackie i love you

black pete why are you so fucking loud AND WHY WOULD YOU JIX IT LIKE THAT???

why is prince ricky so small. he's like a full head shorter than stede. also this guy is insufferable i love how stede just fucking abandons him fhjkgdhkdfghkj

"the calf muscle is the most mysterious of alllll the muscles" what the FUCK does that even mean. oh swede i will miss you

NOSE REMOVAL FUCK YES. I LOVE THIS SHOW.

obsessed with the swede playing dumb. the dramatic gasp. "wow, so bad!" fhjsghdkjf

"aint you that soup bitch?" "im the money bitch" i love women.

sfdsjkh spanish jackie being into double-crossing. and slapping the swede's ass on the way out. i love this show

i love how zheng says "this much indigo is worth three times what i paid" while spanish jackie and the husbands are still like, right there. and they just don't hear that bit. incredible.

OUGH the back of jim's weird rope armor looks like a ribcage that's so cool

i love how jim is so fucking bad at telling this story. i love how the monkey's paw comes into it. i love fang asking them to do the voice. i love archie trying to hold back her laughter i love jim and fang giggling together I LOVE THIS SHOW

ed's fucking voice breaking through his whole convo with frenchie. im tearing out my own teeth

HEY DID YOU GUYS KNOW THEY HAVE POST-CREDITS SCENES IN THIS SEASON?????????? WHAT THE HELL

i take back what i said about jim being bad at telling this story their version is so much fucking better. squeaky voice "I pray to you, Dark Lord, to make me real flesh! I want to be real flesh!" IM FUCKING OBSESSED. JIM I WOULD DIE FOR YOU

[karikarasuno]

sonder ch. viii

Pairing: Erwin Smith x Fem!Reader x Levi Ackerman

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Warnings/Tags: Lack of Communication, Flirty Behavior, Masturbation, Eavesdropping, Descriptions of Sex, Too Many Feelings

Word Count: 5.6k

song(s) for the chapter: my all by mariah carey

chapter vii | chapter viii | chapter ix

Pandora’s box. That was what Moblit and Hange were currently trying to pry open from you with their bare hands. When you agreed to take a late lunch with Moblit, you hadn’t realized that your chicken caesar wrap would be accompanied with a side of interrogation. All lighthearted and well-intentioned, but you’ve been unsurprisingly irritable lately. Your newly realized feelings for Levi and Erwin left you emotionally drained and physically tense. Not that it was anyone else’s fault but your own. Moblit, though, was not helping the situation. And Hange’s erratic commentary was truly the cherry on top.

“I’m just saying you all seem awfully close,” Moblit said. He was teasing you and it was clear, but you couldn’t help but bristle at his words. 

“Friends fuck sometimes and that’s okay,” Hange added, thoughtful and serious, which made your jaw drop and your food bitter in your mouth. 

“Hange, please,” you said, pushing your half-eaten wrap to the side and taking a sip of your iced hibiscus tea instead. “We’re not,” your lips refused to fix around the word fuck out loud, “sleeping together.”

“So then what are you three doing together all the time?” Moblit asked innocently. The innocence was a mere facade, though, since you knew he was simply trying to fish for information. 

“Hanging out. Y’know, like we are, right now.” 

“Right,” he said unconvinced. “So you expect us all to believe you’re not dating?”

“Yes, exactly that. Because it’s not a belief if it’s a fact,” you bit out, your eyes narrowing at him when he smiled and shrugged.

“So you and Erwin are just hanging out as friends this Saturday?”

“How the hell do you even know about that?!” You whispered loudly, leaning towards him and snatching a potato wedge from his plate as payment for your distress. Levi had asked a favor of you yesterday when he had to take a last minute shift for Saturday since one of his regular patients needed an emergency session. Erwin’s father and his fiancee signed up for a dance lesson for their upcoming wedding and invited Erwin and Levi to join them. But given Levi’s schedule change, he asked you to join them in his place. You said yes (obviously) because you said yes to all of their requests, even if it was at your own emotional expense. 

“Levi told me,” Hange said casually. “He only feels a little bad over it because he hates dancing.”

“Of course he did and of course he does,” you responded grumpily as you slouched back in your seat and looked out the window you were seated beside. “This is just a favor anyway, nothing else.”

“Not a date,” Moblit nodded, as if he was agreeing with you when in actuality he was pressing you further. 

“Do you think my first date with someone would be a double date with his dad and his dad’s fiancee?”

“Sounds romantic enough to me,” he grinned, swiping the uneaten half of your wrap and taking a large bite in retaliation for the wedge you stole. You stared at him for a minute, observing the tiny moments of intimacy he always shared with Hange. The light grazing of his fingers on the back of their neck or the way they always made sure he had enough to drink in his cup. It seemed so easy. Fluid. Envy turned in your gut and it was only worsened by the knowledge of knowing your friends bore witness to your complicated relationship with Levi and Erwin, but knew you couldn’t do anything about it. 

“I don’t see what your point is,” you mumbled, glancing away from them again as Hange took a napkin and cleaned the corner of Moblit’s mouth that had a smear of caesar dressing left there aggressively. You fought a disgusted sneer at the softness between them to not come off as bitter. Which you definitely were.

“My point is, if it sounds like dating and it looks like dating,” he said it slowly as if you were beyond the capability of comprehension. “It’s dating.”

“Well maybe you should break it to your buddies that according to you they have a girlfriend,” you said with an annoyed eye roll. “Because as far as I know I am their neighbor who also happened to turn into a friend.”

“I hope you don’t take this the wrong way,” Hange started, leaning forward with their elbows on the table. “But we’ve known Levi and Erwin for a long time and all we’re trying to say is it’s worth a conversation.”

“What conversation is there to be had?” You whined in exasperation. The memory of your almost kiss with Levi popped into your mind without your consent, the skin of your neck and chest warming up at the thought. That was a conversation that definitely needed to be had, but it had already been weeks since that night and neither of you made a move to bring it up. And with all your dinners together since then another incident like that hadn’t happened again. So, you forced it from your mind and refused to dwell on something that may have meant nothing at all. 

“The one regarding your feelings,” Moblit emphasized.

“What feelings?” You said stubbornly, arms crossing and an agitated huff released from your lips. You were starting to hate how easy it was for Moblit to read you. He had an uncanny ability of seeing straight through you. His intuition was nearly always right, especially when it came to the sticky complication of the emotions you swore you hid quite well. 

“You’re hopeless,” Moblit shook his head, placing your wrap back on your plate with a large chunk missing. Thankfully, they dropped the topic after that. But your mind couldn’t help but toss the concept around in your head for the rest of the day. 

They made it sound so simple. So normal. As if you entering an already established relationship with two men wasn’t odd or complicated. And it wasn’t as if you were any sort of advocate for traditional relationships. It was just something you never considered. A relationship with one man nearly broke you in two. And almost a year later, you were still reeling from the aftermath. It was hard enough grappling with the fact that you were falling in love with two people at the same time. You recognized long ago that you had the capacity for it. Loving people with your whole being was not a foreign concept to you. But extending that love, acting on that love, that you held for Levi and Erwin seemed crazy in a way that you couldn’t imagine. 

If one man had the capability to crack your soul in half so deeply the damage seemed irreparable, you could not fathom giving your heart away to two. Surely, the loss of their friendship alone would leave you raw and exposed. It would reverse all the work you had done this far. And you were afraid of the person you would become if you faced another loss like that. You felt jaded and cynical enough. If you handed your heart over to them, only for it to be returned in pieces seemed like a fruitless endeavor. Stupid, even. 

So you kept it exactly where it was. In the center of your chest with a stitched crack down the middle. 

“Erwin, we’re going to be late,” you called for him from his doorway. He was adamant on finding his black t-shirt, which you didn’t realize was even a remotely big deal. But, apparently it was and you had to be at the dance studio by 5pm. Currently, it was 4:36pm and it was a 20 minute drive. 

“Just a second! I found it,” he yelled back excitedly and you couldn’t hold back your loud sigh because you really did hate being late to things like this. It always made you anxious. Another minute passed as you began to tap your heeled foot against the concrete step outside his door because you were convinced that if you stepped inside he wouldn’t feel your obvious sense of urgency. 

“Erwin!” You shouted again, pulling your phone out of your purse to double check the time. 

“I’m coming,” he rounded the corner breathlessly, black shirt fitted around his torso with a zip up slung over his shoulder since it was still chilly outside this early in the new spring season. 

“You looked fine before,” you complained, grabbing his forearm and tugging him outside when he was close enough. “I don’t know why you needed to change.”

He locked the door behind himself, bounding down the steps to meet you at the gate. His hand found the small of your back then as he guided the two of you to his car, “I wanted to match.”

He grinned down at you with pleasant sincerity. As if matching with you was a necessity to this particular outing, and if he didn’t he would’ve ruined the entire thing. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope,” he smiled again and opened the door for you. “What’s the point in going to a couples dance class if we don’t match?”

Your jaw ticked at the word couple, your muscles spasming in your lower back when his hand disappeared and left you cold and tense. He was excited, but you could sense his nervous energy the moment you were in the car and driving towards your destination. This wouldn’t be his first time meeting his father’s fiancee, but it was still evident that he struggled with the idea of his dad getting remarried. And in typical Erwin fashion he played everything off as if it didn’t truly bother him. But knowing him for almost a year now, you could sense the tiny cracks in his facade. The fractures in his usually ebullient personality were starting to become more and more apparent. You wanted him to feel comfortable in your presence. And at present his nerves were crackling off of him like sparklers in the hands of a child on new year’s eve.

“Are you nervous?” You asked, eyes tracking a couple on the sidewalk beside the car as they walked their dog. 

“About?” His tone was hesitant, like he could sense you calling him out on his anxious energy. But instead of confronting him like Levi probably would have, you allowed his feign on indifference to steer your conversation. 

“Stepping on my toes,” you said with a teasing smile at him. He stopped at a red light, turning to grin at you–teeth white and smile blinding. 

“Oh sweetheart,” he replied in playful condescension, “I’m a terrific dancer.”

“We’ll have to see about that,” you responded snidely, expression unconvinced as you turned to look at him just as the light turned green. He released a loud laugh, his hand moving from the gear shift and hovering above your knee for a second. You were curious as to what he was about to do, your thigh tensing involuntarily before his hand landed on your knee and he squeezed. Your breath was held tightly in your chest, your cheeks growing warmer (a constant, uncontrollable reaction you were becoming increasingly more irritated by), and when his hand didn’t move for the rest of the drive every attempt you made at relaxing only made the discomfort fester more beneath your skin. 

The studio was small and on the second floor of a renovated townhome with a cute bookstore on the first floor. On one side of the room were floor to ceiling windows with a perfect view of the park that was just across the street. The lights were golden and dimmed to create an intimate and private atmosphere. Before you entered the studio, your short heels clicking satisfyingly against the glossed wooden floor panels, Erwin’s phone rang and he stepped back out, leaving you to greet the instructors alone. 

They were an older couple with thick accents that you could only attribute to an eastern European country, but you weren’t sure which one. 

“Hello, pretty,” the woman greeted you first, leaning over to press her cheek against yours. She was beaming at you, her eyes sparkling with excitement and you couldn’t stop the sheepish smile from stretching your lips in response. Her husband, you assumed, extended his hand to you in a warm handshake. 

You heard Erwin finally walk in behind you again, tugging on your purse to slip his phone inside before he said, “Looks like it’s just you and me. That was my dad and he said he can’t make it.”

“Is everything ok?” You said with a note of worry, but also the itchy feeling of anxiety stirred in your chest because this truly was a date now. Whether you wanted to admit that or not. 

“Yeah, he’s okay. I refused to ask what he was up to considering the fact that he was out of breath.” He shivered at the thought, and you laughed at the grossed out look on his face. 

“I don’t blame you,” you said, stepping aside so the instructors could introduce themselves. You had to suppress an eye roll when Erwin kissed the older woman on the cheek and she pulled away blushing. Someone had to be immune to his charms and it was unfortunate that it wasn’t you.  

“You two make such a beautiful couple,” the lady said warmly as she led Erwin further into the room and you saw his face light up in the mirror that was parallel to you. 

“Oh, we’re n-”you started, but was swiftly interrupted by Erwin’s appreciative, “thank you.”

Maybe it was easier to indulge rather than explain in a roundabout way to strangers that you weren’t actually together. And that he actually had a boyfriend. Both of which you spend an alarming amount of time with. 

“If it sounds like dating and it looks like dating. It’s dating.”

Moblit’s words clanged around your skull like a ping pong ball gone rogue. The sharp sounds rang in your ears and you were dumbly frozen in place until Erwin turned towards you with an outstretched hand and a teasing, “are we gonna dance or are you too worried about stepping on my toes?”

Embarrassingly enough, you did step on Erwin’s toes. Not because you lacked the coordination or balance or rhythm, but because you were stiff as a board. He was impossibly close to you. One hand on the small of your back applied enough pressure to keep your bodies pressed together while his other hand held onto yours securely. It was a simple waltz, but you couldn’t concentrate on anything besides the way his firm body felt pressed up against the softness of yours. 

Finally, when you were awarded a short break as the instructors went over to choose another song, you all but pushed Erwin off of you so that you could inhale a breath that wasn’t stained with the smell of his cologne. He was smiling as if he was thoroughly enjoying himself. And looking at you as if he was privy to some sort of damning information about you. 

“You need to loosen up,” he said while stepping back into your space, his hands swiftly finding your shoulders and massaging the very present tension there. You sighed, the knot that settled near your neck forever ago being worked out by his attentive and strong fingers. “You know Levi can massage this out for you,” he added when he felt the obvious discomfort in your shoulders. 

“I’m not gonna bother him with that,” you shrugged Erwin off as you said it, inhaling another steadying breath. 

“It wouldn’t be a bother,” he chuckled, “we have a massage table in the guest room for a reason.”

You had never stepped foot in their guest room so that came as a surprise. “I’ll think about it,” you said, waving off the suggestion because downright refusing would only trigger his more persistent side. 

“Ok! Back to positions,” the woman called out, hands clapping together giddily. You recognized the song immediately. The first sounds of My All by Mariah Carey delicately filled the room and your spine tensed once again. You stopped yourself from groaning because out of all the songs this one had all the romantic yearning you could possibly imagine. And with Erwin’s hands on you again and your chest firmly secured against his, you had to close your eyes to steady the racing of your heart that you were sure he could feel pounding against his rib cage. 

“Relax,” he leaned over and whispered in your ear, his lips dangerously close to touching the shell of your ear as he squeezed your hand in an attempt to be reassuring. “Stop concentrating and let me lead you.”

You allowed your forehead to fall to his chest and swallowed down the apprehension that wasn’t allowing you to just enjoy the moment. Regardless of what Moblit said or how you felt for Erwin or Levi, you shouldn’t ruin the fragments of familiarity and intimacy offered by them. Whether it was their strange way of extending friendship or something much more complicated, you took it. You let Erwin lead you in a waltz. You relaxed your shoulders and when you took one last breath and looked up at him he was staring down at you with affection. Maybe tonight you would pretend– just as he had when you stepped in the room– that you really were a couple. That tonight instead of going home to a bed alone, you would feel the safety of two bodies beside you. In an ideal world it would be that simple. 

But reality had a sick way of reminding you that nothing was ever that simple. But a girl could dream. 

“Oh my god, look!” You said as you made your way to the car. There was a flower beginning to bloom right beside a tree. And even though snow hadn’t fallen in weeks, the dreadful chill persisted. And while the sun set hours later, spring had yet to reveal herself to you. 

Erwin stopped suddenly beside you, his arm bumping into your back from the abruptness of it. You were pointing excitedly at the flower. It was a tiny little thing with white petals. Nothing worth noting, really, but the stranger of hope began to introduce herself to you again. It was odd how something so seemingly insignificant made your heart grow in your chest. 

“Oh would you look at that,” he said, following the line of your finger with his eyes, “Levi’s gonna be happy about this. He’s been grumbling about his plants for the last month.”

“It’s how he relieves his stress,” you teased, smiling at the memory of Levi fussing over his herbs that sat in the kitchen window and cursing winter for overstaying its welcome. 

You heard Erwin scoff out a laugh beside you while unlocking the car as you approached. “I, personally, could think of far better ways to relieve stress,” he said as he reached around your shoulder to open the passenger side door for you. There was far more suggestion in his tone than you appreciated. And with how close his voice was to your ear again, you couldn’t suppress the shiver that went straight down your spine and scattered frenetically across your skin. 

The initiation of temptation had to be purposeful on his end. The lingering touches and over-indulgent words couldn’t be a coincidence and you were beginning to wonder if this was some game or if all three of you were treading across a tightrope that got thinner and thinner the further you balanced across. Someone was bound to fall first. And you were afraid it just might be you since you were barely hanging on as it was. 

But the fear of breaking after such a long fall was what kept your core tight and your body forcing your feet to remain unsteady on the rope. You were starting to believe, though, that neither Erwin nor Levi had those same priorities. Especially when, as you were stepping into the vehicle, Erwin leaned over and pressed a chaste kiss to the side of your head. It was so unexpected that it gave you pause, your foot braced on the floor of the car as you whipped your head to face him. He was smirking at you expectantly, eagerly awaiting your reaction like he was trying to bait you into something. 

And in your disheveled state most of the words you knew seemed to escape you. Yet, the only thing you could manage was a petulant, “leave that man and his hobbies alone. Don’t be nasty.”

His grin grew wildly into something wicked. Your stomach flipped and desire swirled around dangerously low in your gut. He nudged you into a seated position, your head bumping against the head rest before he grabbed the seatbelt and clicked it into place for you. When his face was merely a few inches from yours, his breath casting puffs of air across your lips, you were taken back to the evening on your couch with Levi. And you wondered if he knew what almost happened that night. But as much as you wanted to look up into his eyes for some sort of confirmation, they refused to stray from his lips. 

“Fine,” you saw his lips shift around the word seductively, “but just know my idea of stress relief is much more fun.”

He pushed himself off the center console, ducking out of your door and then shutting it behind him. You were startled in a way you couldn’t really describe. Desire flowed through your veins like fear. Lust drove through your heart like anxiety. And it was the most conflicting set of emotions you have ever had the displeasure of feeling. Because now he wasn’t even being secretive about it. 

And for the first time since befriending the neighborly couple, you were beginning to feel like you may be in over your head. 

“Ok,” you started as you strode into Moblit’s office at 8:06 am, exactly two minutes after you saw him enter the office. He barely had his things set down before you shut his door and closed the blind to the small window he had that overlooked the cubicles. 

“What’s with the secrecy?” He said, a bit concerned, but mostly amused. He was still shrugging off his coat when you started to pace. Which you knew wasn’t the best look, but after your evening with Erwin and then stealthily avoiding them for the rest of the weekend to protect your sanity after what you overheard after he dropped you off at your door. You knew you weren’t crazy regardless of how you absolutely, positively felt crazy. 

Erwin wouldn’t intentionally fuck his boyfriend loud enough for you to hear through the wall that separated your living room from their bedroom. He couldn’t possibly know you were even laying on your couch that night because you were too lazy to get up and drag your ass to bed because strangely enough the arches of your feet were sore from dancing in heels for an hour and a half. It had to be another coincidence. But you knew the mood Erwin was already in when you left the studio. He had reckless energy coursing through him the entire drive home. Even when you stopped to grab takeout on the way home, he still possessed that crackly, staticky spirit that had you shifting in your seat expectantly. 

So, you could confidently assume that he was horny. Especially with the way he carried himself with a sense of emboldened carelessness. He kissed you again on your doorstep, this time on your cheek and narrowly missing your lips so much so he might as well have kissed them. So, it shouldn’t have come as a surprise when you were startled awake from a sleep you hadn’t realized you fell under to a thud. It was muffled and distant sounding. You knew it couldn’t have come from inside your apartment so you decided to ignore it and chalk it up to the sounds of the city. But then, as sleep threatened to pull you under again, you heard a groan and a creak. Realization flooded over you like a bucket of cold water. Goosebumps rose on your skin in recognition of what was occurring on the other side of the wall and a fierce blush blossomed on your cheeks. Your whole body rising in temperature and that strange feeling returned to your gut. 

The heels of your palms pressed into your eyes and you knew you should probably gather yourself and head to your bed. But when you heard another moan, this one longer and needier than the last, you struggled to come up with a good enough argument to actually get up. One that based itself on something other than this probably being morally wrong. Eavesdropping on your friends while they were clearly getting hot and heavy was not an appropriate way to end your evening, but the weight of your touch deprivation was burying you into the cushions beneath you. You couldn’t even remember the last time you touched yourself. With the chronic stress and anxiety that exhausted your body it was difficult to conjure up the energy to even get yourself off. 

But this, this fervent desire that had rooted itself in your bones hours ago due to Erwin’s blatant teasing, was nearly suffocating you. Maybe you shouldn’t have allowed your hand to trail down your abdomen, smoothing over your sleepshirt and slipping hesitantly between your thighs. And you shouldn’t have matched the pace of your fingertips rubbing greedy circles against your clit with the way their headboard thumped against the wall. You muffled your own moans with the back of your free hand, merely mimicking what you knew to be Levi’s voice groaning alongside what you could only assume was Erwin fucking him. 

Your imagination, as vivid as it was, was running away from you. The idea of Erwin and Levi together in any position you could pull from your own memory was sending a hurried flush over your skin. Lips on heated skin, hands kneading at reddened flesh, it was too much. You already knew how pretty Levi looked with rose-tinted cheeks and wine-stained lips, and you could nearly feel Erwin’s strong body cradling yours. Being held by him without the layers of thin clothing separating your sweat-dampened skin. It was surprising how close you were to finishing with only a few sticky strokes to your clit. The pent up sexual frustration evidently brought to its boiling point. 

All you could hear, all that was replaying in your mind as you came over your own fingers was Levi whining out Erwin’s name in desperation. The sound of his release was obvious when Erwin could only respond with a “yes, Levi” and the pace of the headboard hitting the wall quickened for a few seconds before everything went silent. 

You lied there in astonishment and shame. Your fingers wet with your own release and your body slightly sweaty from unexpected exertion. How were you going to face them again after that? When all you would be able to hear when they spoke to you was the gruffness of their moans and the noises they made as they came?

It would surely haunt your every conversation and interaction from now until forever. 

“Are you gonna talk or would you prefer to burn a hole into the rug with your incessant pacing?”

Moblit’s voice startled you straight out of your memory. Your orientation returned to you once you remembered you were in Moblit’s office on the verge of a nervous breakdown instead of post-orgasm and spiraling out on your own couch after listening to your best friends have sex. When you met Moblit’s gaze, his amusement diminished in favor of true concern. Maybe you also looked just as crazy as you felt. 

“I’m in big trouble,” you said, arms crossing and eyes averting to look out onto his view of the lake that was miles away but still visible through the spaces between the high rises. 

“Legal? Do you owe someone money?” He said, hands leaning onto his desk and it should’ve sounded like a joke but he was being utterly serious. 

“I don’t want to know why that was where your mind immediately went. Quite frankly, it scares me,” you said, expression a mixture of confusion and astoundment. “But no, I don’t owe anyone money. I just maybe haven’t been completely forthcoming about my current situation with Levi and Erwin.”

“You totally fucked, didn’t you?” He smirked at you like he knew it all along. Like you couldn’t possibly keep anything from him without him finding out in some way. Which should’ve agitated you more than it did, but you were too wrapped up in your mess to scold him over it.

“No!” You said louder than you intended, so you lowered your voice when you added, “we didn’t fuck. At this point, I think that would be the simpler situation.”

“I have a feeling you’re being a little dramatic,” he said softly, again acting as if having a threesome with your two closest friends who were in a years long relationship didn’t have the potential to ruin things to an atomic degree. 

“Ugh,” you sighed, deciding to sit down in one of the chairs in front of his desk. “A couple of weeks ago Levi and I almost kissed, and up until my date on Saturday with Erwin I was under the impression that he didn’t know about that given the fact that Levi and I have pretended it never happened. We were also high so I kinda thought he didn’t remember it.”

“So it was a date,” Moblit grinned, leaning back comfortably in his office chair as he looked directly at you. 

“Can you believe that his dad canceled on us at the last minute?” You complained, throwing your hands up in exasperation. “So, yes it very much felt like a fucking date. And it really messed with my head, especially because Erwin was being so…”

You allowed the sentence to hang there, not sure how to really describe Erwin’s behavior towards you that night. He was treating you like it was the early stages of a relationship. The unmistakable air of a date, the touching, the closeness. It was all so real and unplatonic-like. You groaned into your hands while your body fell deeper into the seat. 

“What do I do?” You emphasized whinily, peering at Moblit’s smug face between the cracks in your fingers. 

“Did Erwin make a move on you?” He asked simply, and you scrunched your face up in thought because the answer in your mind was yes, but the lines were blurry and you couldn’t see them clearly enough to come up with a straight answer. 

“I mean, how would you define ‘making a move’?” You thought back to the kisses he left on your temple and cheek, which he has done before. And the way his hands never strayed far from your body, whether it was your waist or the small of your back or even when he rested it on your knee on the drive there. You thought of his reassuring words and how he put your seatbelt on for you once you left the dance lesson. Those all felt like moves, but they also all felt like Erwin. 

And Erwin was handsy and clingy. 

“You know exactly how I would define it,” he replied dumbly and you fought the eye roll that always followed you whenever you spoke with Moblit. You loved him, but weren’t always too fond of him calling you out on your bullshit. 

“Fine, then yes, he was very,” you made weird grabby hands at Moblit, who frowned and tilted his head but seemed to understand what you were trying to convey. 

“Did he kiss you?”

“Not exactly.”

“Not exactly?”

“He kissed me like right here,” you pointed to the corner of your mouth and refused to make eye contact with him. You felt so juvenile and ridiculous. This was so much harder than having a teenage crush. So much worse too. 

And it was made even worse when you heard Moblit stifle a laugh. When you glared at him, he couldn’t suppress the cackle where it was currently lodged in his throat and slipped out in one absurd sound. 

“You’re so annoying,” you grumbled as you rose to your feet, fully intent on trudging back to your office and hiding out there for the rest of the day. 

“Wait,” he called after you, and you stubbornly turned around to face him again. “I’m gonna suggest something a little crazy… talk to them.”

“Why can’t you just let me be difficult?” You had to stop yourself from stomping one of your feet on the ground petulantly. 

“Because this isn’t as difficult as you’re making it, I promise.”

You heard the earnestness in his voice. He truly believed that this thing between you, Levi, and Erwin would work out. And you weren’t sure if he was delusional or if you were oblivious. But the ache in your chest only ever subsided when you were with them. The feelings you harbored could be one-sided but as each day ended and another began that didn’t seem like the case. Fear gripped you, though, tightly around the neck, squeezing your vocal cords together and refusing you to utter a word about your love for them. Your very real, awful, tragic, beautiful love for them. 

“What if I ruin it again?” You said barely above a whisper. You wanted to shrink into yourself. Nothing but raw insecurity ripped through you. “I can’t do that to myself again.”

[rose-and-thorn-fanfics]

Hi love, could it be possible to request an Eric x reader where he didn’t die at the end so he’s just kinda out roaming and helping people when one night he ends up saving the readers life and it kinda grows from there? He becomes a protective and loving bodyguard/lover to the reader and if you want you can add some smut but fluff is always welcome. Thanks love ❤️❤️

Sure! Here you go! I did the best that I can :) lmk via ask box if you wanna stay anonymous whether you like it or not! I can always add or change anything! Im going to assume you mean a femme reader. I’ll release a part 2 tomorrow so keep an eye out. I would’ve put it all in one part but it was too long.

“I’m Only Happy When It Rains” Pt. 1 (Eric Draven x Reader) tw, attempted sa

Eric Draven wandered the streets of downtown Detroit. The few trees lining the walk to the graveyard were barren, their branches gnarled, like dark arms reaching up into the evening sky. He didn’t mind the cold. He was numb to it (perhaps one of the side effects of being undead). He paused, leaning against a shadowed brick wall. The crow landed on his shoulder. Pulling a pack of cigarettes from his tattered coat’s pocket, he struggled to light one as the steady rain became a harsh downpour.

CRASH. BANG. BANG. He dropped the pack of cigarettes, turning swiftly and witnessing the commotion inside the small dimly lit jewelry shop down the street. The crow cawed, jumping off his shoulder and flapping wildly above him in alarm. Eric ran in that direction, dodging a silver car speeding towards him. He pushed the slightly ajar door open with his hands and was met immediately by three men inside the shop, two of them with guns pointed at him. One was holding a distressed woman down against the metal counter.

▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️Y/N’s PERSPECTIVE▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️

Y/n struggled against the grip of the foul smelling man holding her down. Blood dripped from her bruised lip as the criminal thrust her head down against the counter again.

“I told you the little lady won’t cooperate. She needs to be taught a lesson, don’t ya think, Greg?” The man said to one of the other criminals who was currently gathering cash from the safe they’d broken open.

“Ah who cares about the cunt. Let’s just get the money and goods before anyone calls the cops.” A third younger man chimed in nervously fingering his gun.

“Nobody’s gonna call the fuckin’ police force over a little shop like this, anyhow.” The leader assured them.

Tears blurred Y/n’s vision as she writhed and screamed in protest, the man holding her down started trying to undress her.

CRASH. BANG. BANG. One of the other men shot open a glass display case full of wedding rings.

Suddenly, the door swung open, letting in cold rain, and more significantly, a man and his crow. All three criminals turned swiftly, and Y/n took this new distraction as a chance to kick the man holding her down in the balls. The man howled, letting go and clutching his crotch. She dove forward and rushed towards the door only to be grabbed by one of the other robbers. Y/n felt the cold barrel of a gun press against the side of her head. She squeezed her eyes shut wishing she could just disappear.

“Eyyy! Looks like we have company!” The younger man said. “Well if it isn’t Detroit’s favorite man of vengeance.” Greg said, grinning maniacally. The other two men waved the guns threateningly in the direction of where the dark figure stood.

Y/n opened her eyes. ‘Detroit’s favorite man of…vengeance? Could it truly be Eric Draven himself?’ She thought as she observed the tall figure in the tattered leather trench coat step into the light. Seeing his face under the flickering LED lights glow confirmed her suspicions. The grim yet mysterious face paint was unmistakable. Eric Draven indeed. She watched in silent awe as he walked straight up to the guns pointed at him, unfazed. Lunging towards them he grabbed one man’s arm, redirecting its aim at the other man and forcing him to shoot the other criminal repeatedly, then snapping the man’s neck who’s gun he had been using.

Greg (still holding Y/n) tightened his arm around her neck until she started to suffocate, now pointing his gun at Eric. Seeing this, Eric ran towards them, ignoring the bullets ripping through his flesh (as each promptly healed by some inexplicable power). Y/n started seeing stars as the mans grip got tighter and tighter. Grabbing a large shard of glass from the shattered display case, Eric Draven threw it towards Greg, and like a throwing knife it pierced his throat with absolute precision. Y/n felt the splatter of Greg’s blood on her cheek, his grip loosened until he stumbled backwards and collapsed, choking on his own blood.

Y/n gasped, regaining her balance and filling her lungs with precious oxygen. “Y-You…. Thank you…” Y/n finally managed. Eric approached her slowly, offering her his arm for support as she found her strength. She gladly took it. His crow swooped in, perching on one of the coat racks.

“It’s no trouble.” Eric said humbly. Then he noticed the cuts and bruises on Y/n’s lips. “You’re bleeding!” His eyes darkened with regret. “I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner.” He leaned in, lifting his hands and gently wiping away the blood that was trickling down Y/n’s chin. His touch was tender and reassuring, much to Y/n’s surprise (after seeing how absolutely violent Eric Draven could be).

“Can I walk you home…?” He paused, waiting for her to fill in her name.

“It’s Y/n. And actually I was just about to ask you if you wouldn’t mind doing that…” she blushed, staring up at his dark makeup. Y/n hated to admit it but she had always been fascinated by the tales she heard of Eric Draven and his crow. Not to mention tall men in makeup was a definite turn on for her.

Eric walked Y/n home, arm around her shoulder protectively. Every once and a while he’d ask her where to turn, or slow down and check in on her. Finally, they made it to her apartment complex (which was rather nice for downtown Detroit).

“It’s here.” Y/n said. “Do you want to…. come in?”

Eric arched an eyebrow, surprised at her offer. But he found himself agreeing automatically. “You should be more careful though, at least in the future…” he said, as they entered the lobby and climbed the stairs to the second floor.

Y/n unlocked the door to her room. And let him inside. “Why? Letting a complete stranger in my apartment?”

“It’s true. You don’t know me. What if I were to do something terrible to you?” Eric cautioned.

Y/n whirled around abruptly and leaned very close to Eric Draven’s face. “But you wouldn’t, would you? You’re not that kind of guy.” She said playfully. Then she stood on her toes, so she could reach his face better and she planted a quick kiss on his cheek.

Eric blinked, completely shocked, but a bit amused too. “What was that for?” He said, smirking.

“That’s my way of saying thank you.” Y/n said sweetly. “Would you like some wine?”

TO BE CONTINUED (very soon)….

[streaminn]

Fuck, had an idea strike me before bed, now it's your problem. Streamer Enid let's fucking goooooooo

"I hate you." It rings in the otherwise silent halls of Nevermore, and it rings harder in Enid's ears.

"What?" It knocks the breath out of her lungs, and if it wasn't for her muscles stiffening in fear, she hasn't a doubt in her mind she'd be on the floor with blurred vision.

"I despise you, Enid Sinclair. I hate you. I hate hearing your grating voice, I hate listening to your rants of K-pop and social media, I hate listening to you text and giggle. I hate your laugh. I wish the Hyde had killed you. You'd be prettier in a box in the ground."

"Wednesday..." her limbs feel like grief-weighted lead; heavy and dragging and breath-stealing.

"If we'd never meant, I would be a much happier person. Better, maybe. Did you ever consider in all your attempts to "help me" you might've made me worse? No, because you think your good enough to help."

"Willa-"

"Do not call me that. That is a term of endearment. I want no endearment from vermin. A pest. A sickness. How incredible you are, then, Enid. You made me despise a plague. I'm happy to hate a plague if it's you, though."

"Willa- I- I don't understand. We were good- we-"

"Don't kid yourself. I had tricked myself into believing I was in love with you, out of a sense of debt."

For the first time since she started talking, Wednesday moves.

She'd been horrifically unmoving.

She walks past Enid.

"I was incorrect in liking Tyler. I could never want someone so weak as to fail in putting down a sick animal."

.

.

.

Enid never understood why movies show nightmares the way they do. Her nightmares aren't like that.

She doesn't shoot up and grab her chest, panting and frantically looking around.

She tenses all her muscles and stares at the celling, feeling the press of nausea in back of her throat. She stares teary-eyed at a celling that feels no remorse or pity for not rousing her from her distress.

When she can breath and think, she's knows she just had a nightmare. That's all it is.

It wasn't real.

It never happened. Wednesday would not ever say those things.

Why did it have to sound so much like her, then?

She reachs over to grab Wednesday's hand, her arm, face something, because it wasn't real, right? They got married, worked on themselves separately so they could be together and be better because of it. Wednesday didn't mean those nasty words- she meant her wedding vows.

Right?

There's no Wednesday in bed next to her, no dark hair unbraided and splayed everywhere.

There's no Wednesday to confirm that it wasn't real.

Right. She won't be back for anothed year and a half.

She grabs her phone.

2:07

Wednesday's in Australia.

4:07

She grips her pillow.

Papawolf: willa

Papawolf: willa

Papawolf: wilsl please awnsee me

Papawolf: wednaaday responde to me please

Papawolf: wednesday lease awnsaer me im zbout to vomit

Idon'twantanickname: What has happened, Enid?

Papawolf: do you love me

Idon'twantanickname: With the very blood that pumps in my veins.

Idon'twantanickname: What has happened?

Papawolf: call me

Papawolf: if you can

Idon'twantanickname is calling you.

Decline Answer

She hits the green button.

"Cara Mia? Are you alright."

"Nightmare."

"Sweetheart..." she wonders if it's the cooing tone or nickname if realness of Wednesday's that makes her calm down.

Maybe it's the palpable love in it.

"You said you hated my- everything. Everything that makes up my personality, pretty much. You said you hated my rants and K-pop and hearing me giggle and text and- and-" she hates the way she chokes and chokes but doesn't pass out from the lack oxygen in her lungs.

"You said you hated my laugh."

"E-"

"You said you wished the Hyde had killed me-"

"En-"

"Yo- you- fuck- you said I'd be prettier in a box in the ground."

"Enid."

'Ye-yup? Yes, yeah, what?"

"Darling, take a deep breath. I want to hear it over the phone. Can you do that, my Wolf?"

"I. I don't know, Wednesday I- holy shit I can't breathe, 'm gonna die."

"You will not. Try to relax your muscles and then try breathing. There is no rush."

"Okay, that." She pauses. She loosens her knuckle-white grip on her phone and her pillow, and tries to work up her arms. She imagines little lights in her arms, and tries to dim them. Not turn them off, just the brightness a bit. Wednesday thought her that in their second year.

Wednesday wouldn't have taught her that if she didn't love her.

She tries to dim the chest-light next. She can feel just a bit of air enter her lungs.

"I can do that."

"Good," Wednesday speaks softly. Enid wonders if she's in a hotel room. A little cafe, enjoying a quad over ice. "Good girl."

Enid's tail thumps against the bed.

"Deep breaths, Enid. I want to hear it."

"Right, sorry."

"You have made no mistakes. Do not apologize."

"Sor- uh. Okay."

"Good girl."

Enid breathes for a while. Sometimes she doesn't breathe loud enough and Wednesday tells her louder.

"I feel better, Wednesday." It's not a lie.

"Good. One last breath, then we talk. Okay?"

"I'm good to talk now-"

"Breathe. Treat it like your thoughts. You would never be so cruel as to deny me the right to hear them, would you? Treat your breathing the same."

Oh.

Fuck.

"Okay."

She breathes.

"Are you alright?"

"You love me?"

"One molecule in my body houses enough love for you to wipe out a city block."

"You don't hate me?"

"Didn't you just hea- no. I love you so much, Enid Addams."

"You don't think I'd look prettier in a box in the ground?"

"No. Even if that somehow happened, your brightness would pierce the earth and alert me to where you are."

"Okay. I love you too. I'm good to sleep now. Thank you."

"Sleep beautifully well, Enid."

Enid yawns, her jaw pops.

"You 'oo wil'"

Enid hangs up. Wednesday refuses to be the one to end a call.

She checks the time.

3:47

She smiles.

5:47

-Writer Anon.

I hope your rest is amazing writer anon!

-

"wait a sec, I killed Tyler what-" Enid's chopping turned more aggressive. "im anything but a sick animal because I bit his throat out so a boss. It was totally a one sided fight."

"is this over what your figment of me said?" Wednesday asks, her voice tiny from her spot in the phone. She's in an airport somewhere, waiting till it's time to board.

Enid just grumbles. Sick, broken, not right has been words she's been hearing all her life so to hear it from Wednesday stings alot more than she should.

It also irritatingly struck her pride.

She's stronger now, much stronger and with age comes alot of wisdom. That wisdom being, she totally wiped the floor with him during that night and there's no way people thought elsewise. The fact that her own brain thought so was betrayal!

That was the first time she protected Wednesday, she held it in very high regards okay! She may have struggled a bit but she still came out on top.

Take that, Tyler. Him and his dumb bug eyes- should've squeezed it out when she could.

"the true pest was him," Enid huffs, scooping up the vegetables and tossing it into the pot.

Wednesday just sighs, shaking her head but the slight smile showcased how used she was too it.

Sometimes its better to let your dear sulk a little.