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inkskinned · 1 year

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you know, the light that fades at the end of Goncharov isn't light.

i am not a very good person to talk to about movies. i haven't seen most of the "official" american canon - jaws, psycho, citizen kane. i have seen sharknado, though. like so much in my childhood, what i knew was a little jar on a long shelf of gallons; my world was a catholic desert in new england weather.

my father had gotten his snout up about something; so we had to watch it. he was mad we hadn't seen it, the way people are going to be mad i haven't seen those three up i named there, as if i me having-not-seen-the-movie was because i was making some kind of political statement or argument. i just haven't seen them yet, i have no opinion about it. i'll eventually get around to it, god be willing.

during that time, i was doing bad in school and worse in taking care of my body. i sat on the floor on this green pillow, one of the ones my dog eventually tears up. my dad typed g-o-n into the DVR with that slow methodical passion, the remote tilted so the "rays" or whatever would somehow find the ever-smaller input.

he was excited. "you need to understand the light." he didn't look at me while he did it, focused.

"are you spelling gonorrhea." my brother, the eldest, was 17 in this memory. he was sitting on the chair in the corner, playing a game i can't remember the name of. (starfleet? star invaders? it was online, i know that. lots of clicking.)

my dad is used to this. we talk over each other all the time. "when they made it, scorsese wanted this specific hue over everything." my father looks over his shoulder at me, but i'm on the floor, stretching. i don't have a smart phone yet. i'm just watching with the anxious-restless feeling we all get when your father is painstakingly typing something into a virtual keyboard at an eighth of the speed you could have managed. "you'd like this, raquel. what color do you think he wanted?"

my mom comes in from the kitchen. "do we want salt or butter on the popcorn?" she has a handful she pops into her mouth. "wait for your sister to come upstairs. she'll be mad if she misses a part."

"salt," i say, while my brother says "butter."

"spruce." my dad is undeterred. he finally clicks the v, and then navigates over the red tiles to enter. "Spruce."

"okay?" i like dark green too. to be honest, i have no idea who Scorsese is or why he is important. (this is, by the way, still true.)

"here's the thing." my father doesn't actually click the "enter." he just looks at me, adjusting his glasses. "it doesn't exist."

okay. he's right. i do like this. i squint up at him, the signal to go on.

"it came to him in a dream. it's not a real color." my brother monotones, flat. he's heard this story before, and he's 17.

"i still say it's green," my mother says. she comes in holding the salt-and-buttered popcorn, fluffy in an orange bowl. "he just never painted a house, is all."

"it's a candle smell," i say.

"a tree." i don't know when my little sister came upstairs. she's braiding her hair, frowning. "i thought we were going to watch psych."

"it's old movie night," my mother answers. there's something there, in the cant of her smile, which i won't understand until i am much older. if you are over 25, you know what i saw. my mother, seeing her family settle like tired birds around a movie screen, for the moment placid, not-fighting. none of the children are happy about the selection - why would we be?

"Scorsese says it's not green." my father finally clicks rent for 2.99. "he was looking for this specific color, the one from his dreams. the color he had been told was called spruce, through someone in the dream." he looks to me again, his poet. "you know how dreams always feel... different. when you look back on them in your memories, they don't color in all the way. and he wanted that dream tinge."

the memories of my dreams are covered in colored static. sometimes i nightmare in black and white. i did not share this information, thinking it was too private. (forgive me. i was 14. everything was too-private for me.)

"a regular hitchcock," my mom mutters. we don't know, yet, not really, about what hitchcock did.

"he revolutionized the lighting industry. raquel, you have to look for the light in this thing. it's only in a few frames per scene. he didn't want it to be overwhelming."

"he fired like 10 people while he was doing it." my brother doesn't look up from his screen, clicking feverishly. "in order to get the color, he had to develop a software to switch lighting past human speed." he sends a glance towards the TV, kind of relenting. "it was cool, actually. he didn't actually light the room with that speed, he used one set of colors on the set and then another set specifically over the film. we're basically seeing two films: one that has the regular lighting, and then just this lighting track playing on top."

"like a sound list - ah, what's that called?" my father's remote hovers over play. i am trying to figure out what color i think spruce is going to be. "soundtrack," he amends. "are we all ready?"

"i still don't think it's real," my mother says. "i think he made it up for PR." my mother is good at colors. my mother would be right about that kind of thing.

"hon, he spent thousands of dollars on this." my father isn't angry, for once, he's smiling. "i'm telling you, it happens."

she shrugs. "i'll believe it when i see it."

we are not ready. we have to each find places to sit. i've been lying about how bad my eyesight is getting, so i keep my seat on the floor, close to the television. my mother, father, and sister take the couch. i make sure i am within reaching distance of the popcorn. my brother even kind-of closes his monstrosity of a laptop. then my mother has to use the bathroom, so we all do, so we won't have to pause later. then my sister remembers her homework, so i get mine too, spreading it uselessly in front of me. i slide open my verizon sidekick keyboard phone to text Dean who the fuck is scorkayze? [sic] and then we are ready.

my mom falls asleep by the end of the first 15 minutes. my father misses most of it, since he's already seen it, going downstairs to play World Civ instead. my sister doesn't get it, so she ends up at the dining room table, doing homework instead. my brother goes back to the video game.

i stare really, really, really hard at the film, trying to figure out where the spruce happens. a few frames per scene.

i don't like the film. like most movies i saw at the time, i found it boring. i had undiagnosed adhd. i spend most of my time stretching and texting and not-doing my homework. again, i'm sorry - i was 14.

when the "gun" finally goes off - if you've seen the movie, you know the scene, and i won't spoil it here for other readers - i looked back over my shoulder towards my family. all of us, quiet in our own little seats. satellites. did i want this memory to be different? that i would turn and see my family, happily crowded chickadees, our wings brushing? or is this just the real-life, the type of love where we are not nesting birds, but foxes. prowling the edges of our comfort with our jaws open. snapping at the shadows, wishing for the closeness we don't allow ourselves to get. tomorrow we will watch psych. this is the last year of my life that all of us will live under the same roof. my brother goes off to college, and my sister and i follow suit. it is the last year my grades don't matter. it is my sister's first year of middle school. it is 2007; and in 2008, in the recession, we will no longer be able to afford to turn on the heat.

behind me, on the television, the light was fading.

sometimes, when i think back to it, shifting through the memory: it appears out of the thin air. a frame of spruce. it's never around the movie. my father's hands on the remote. my brother's low voice. the sound of my sister walking up the stairs. the popcorn smell hanging in the air. for a moment, the sense - everything is easy. and you know? i think i see it, mr. scorsese.

#how far do we go for a meme?#haha :)#what if i just write about the death of childhood by accident #this was supposed to be 3 paragraphs but i just finished disco elysium #so i am too full up on words #ps most of this is true #i still haven't seen those movies lmafo

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darkwolf989 · 18 days

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Is it okay if it is a one shot instead? I don't want to force you to do anythinggg 😭😭😭 it's my own preference!!

Hi There!

I will DEFINITELY do one shots when requested! They’re so much fun to write about, and honestly this is one of my favorite things to write about. I think to keep it organized from the “Outside The Office” series I’ll respond directly to the request with the story attached and add that to the master list.

You asked specifically for Val or Vox x reader and their little girl, so I tried to give both Val and Vox their time to shine in respective, responsible, parental roles. If you want a specific Vox x reader and their little girl or a specific situation for Val x Reader and their little girl, let me know! There are SO MANY to choose from but this is the first one that came to mind!

As always, enjoy! Feedback is always, always appreciated and valued!

“Princessa, hold still.” Valentino grumbled to the squirming toddler. His hands moved as quickly as they could, weaving her blonde hair into braids. “Princessa, stop, I don’t want to pull your hair.”

She let out a shriek and Valentino quickly wrapped the end of the braid in a soft pink hair tie before he scooped her up into his arms and rocked her gently, tucking her against him. “Shush, princessa, daddy is here.”

Never did Valentino ever think he would be calling himself daddy in the most appropriate context of the word.

She quieted quickly and snuggled into him. Valentino smoothed back her hair and pressed his lips to her forehead. Cooler than she was an hour ago. But not quite broke of her fever yet. Definitely due for her next dose of medicine.

She stuck her thumb in her mouth and sucked vigorously- a habit he despised with every fiber of his being. Honestly, he’d rather let her just have the pacifier but his wife was insistent that she break the habit. It wasn’t good for her teeth, she said.

He guessed she would know more about it than he did. She read more books on the subject than he had, and he had read quite a few himself as he tried to teach himself how to be the father he had never had. Truth be told, when his wife first found out she was pregnant, he was both ecstatic and terrified. A baby of his own- of their own. What if he fucked it up? What if something went wrong and he lost them both in the process? But the first three years of his little girl's life proved to be the opposite- he loved her with every fiber of his being.

The flutter of the kicks during the first nine months of her life. Listening to her heartbeat for the first time. Watching the love of his life, his reader bring her into the world, and the first time he held her in his arms- she was so tiny he was afraid of hurting her.

He remembered sitting in the hospital room, holding her as his wife slept, when the nurse came in and suggested that he take his shirt off and doing skin to skin contact with the baby.

“That’s a mom thing, I’m not her mom, I’m her dad,” he protested as loudly as he dared, so as to not wake the sleeping infant.

The nurse said it didn’t matter. The process would help her regulate her temperature and her heart rate- it was biology. Beneficial to them both. Reluctantly, he handed her off his baby and unbuttoned his shirt. The nurse handed her back to him and guided him to hold her against his chest, over his heart, and covered her with the smallest pink blanket.

“There you go Dad, just like that,” she told him.

Dad. No one had ever called him that before. At least, not in the true sense of the word.

Overnight, the top floor of the V tower he and his wife shared with Vox and Velvette had turned into a hybrid of ruthless overlords and a little kid's dream house. Neither aunt nor uncle spared any expense the moment they found out he and his wife were expecting a little girl, and Velvette herself had designed her pink princess themed room that his daughter called her own.

Not that she slept there. For a while, she was in a bassinet. And then a crib. And as soon as she was mobile she crawled into her parents bed and that was it. She slept between them, and more than once he and reader were grateful they had a big bed. For such a tiny kid, she sure took up space. They would have to break that habit he swore he would never develop, but according to the books he read- it really was okay, at least, for the time being.

“Dada,” she muttered. “Don’t feel good.”

He snapped his attention back to her. “I know babygirl. Come on, Daddy’s going to make you feel better.” He lifted her up and carried her into the kitchen.

One of the only benefits of being home with a sick toddler was simply that he didn’t have to go into work today- he could stay at home with his little girl. Normally his wife would be the one who handled all the care, but today was day two of his sweetheart’s sickness, and his wife was spent. And so, he put her to bed and the last time he checked, she was fast asleep.

And now as he filled the plastic syringe with a mix of bubblegum pink medication and juice, he half heartedly regretted that decision.

“No!” She screamed when she saw the dropper. “No! No! NO!”

No. It was her favorite word, one he was both proud and unhappy that she knew. Honestly, he couldn’t blame her for her refusal. He had tasted the sticky liquid himself out of curiosity and immediately regretted the decision. In all of hell’s amazing medical advances, could’t they make something that tasted good?

“Dollface, I know,” he said to her tiredly. “Look, I’ll make you a deal. You take this, and I’ll take you down to see Uncle Voxxy and his sharks, okay?”

That perked her up.

“Sha ka. Now.” She demanded.

He held up the medicine dropper. “Medicine first. Then sharks.”

“Sha ka!” She demanded.

“Then open up,” he replied, taking her chin in his hand. “All of it goes into your tummy. Then sharks.”

She gave him a look of disdain that inwardly made him wince, but she opened her mouth. Honestly, he feared what her teenage years would look like if she was this defiant at three. He stuck the syringe in her mouth and slowly pressed down on the plunger.

“Swallow it. All of it.” He reminded her. “The sooner it goes from your mouth to your tummy, the sooner you can have juice.”

To his relief, she swallowed it and he handed her a bottle of juice. Also probably not the best parenting decision, letting her be on a bottle this long, but the pacifier battle was enough of a fight. Even with Vox and Velvette’s help, they had to pick and choose their battles.

“Sha ka.” She demanded, reaching for him to pick her back up.

Valentino sighed but lifted her into his arms. She snuggled into his neck and that feeling of love, of protectiveness washed over him. He held her a little bit tighter as he carried her towards the elevator, pausing only to grab the diaper bag at the entryway.

Love. It was his field of expertise. But nothing, not even the day he married his wife, could compare to the type of love he felt the first time he held his daughter in his arms. It was different than anything he had ever felt- pure and protective. That feeling had never gone away, even on the roughest of nights, when his wife struggled to stay awake every few hours, struggling to feed this tiny little creature that now depended on them for her every need. Of taking turns holding her until she granted them both the mercy of sleep.

“Sha ka!” She screeched as he stepped into Vox’s office. She struggled in his arms and Valentino set her down.

“Aw, how’s my little peanut? Come to Uncle Voxxy!” Vox turned around in his chair.

Valentino watched as she took off to him and jumped into his arms. For the overlord of technology, he turned into mush around the little girl. And she felt the same way about him, that much was obvious.

“Yeah, you wanna see the sharkies? Come on, we’ll go see the sharkies!” Vox lifted her up and looked at Valentino. “You look like shi- fuck. Crap. I mean, you look like you need a shower.”

“Swear jar. Three quarters. No exception.” Valentino half joked.

The first time his daughter called her stuffed animal a word no toddler should say, Velvette in all her genius introduced the swear jar. The rest of them resisted at first, but it wasn’t like they couldn’t afford it. Vox struggled the most with the no cursing rule around the kid rule and as a result, she had enough in her piggy bank to buy herself a new car if she wanted. Sometimes, Valentino wondered if he did it on purpose. After all, she could spend the money however she chose and Valentino had a feeling that it would be spent at the toy store the next time he and his wife went out of town.

Or he would just buy her whatever she wanted and let her keep it. The word spoiled didn’t exist in his vocabulary. At least, not when it came to her.

“I mean it Val, let me take her for a bit. Go get cleaned up. Maybe lay down for a few minutes. I got the baby, yes I do, yes I do!”

He looked down at himself. Black tee shirt, and yesterday's sweatpants. Probably baby vomit from when she got sick earlier. But a shower sounded like a fantastic idea- a dream, really.

“She puked earlier, and she’s still running a fever. You sure you want that?” Valentino warned doubtfully as he handed Vox the diaper bag.

Vox shrugged. “Push comes to shove I’ll bring her upstairs and get her changed. Not a big deal.”

Valentino watched her snuggle into him and her bottle fell to the floor as her thumb went right back into her mouth, leaving baby drool and Lucifer knew what else all over his shirt. He bent down and picked it up, handing it to Vox.

“You don’t want to help with bath time tonight, do you?” Valentino asked hopefully.

Vox laughed. “Ha! Not on your life! I know what a little terror this princess is with water, yes I do! Yes I do!”

She let out a cross between a giggle and a shriek as he lightly tickled her.

“Go, Val. Shoo. We’re fine, I promise.” Vox reiterated as he turned back towards his desk. “Say bye bye to Daddy, babygirl, we’re going to go see sharks!”

“Sha ka!” she shrieked. “Uncie Voxxy! Sha ka!”

“Alright. Princessa, be good for Uncle Voxxy okay?” He kissed her forehead. Cooler, but not as cool as she was earlier. He turned and walked out the door to the sound of Vox cooing to her.

He walked back up the stairs and took as quick of a shower as he could, hoping he didn’t disturb his sleeping love. To his relief, reader didn’t move from where she lay, fast asleep. A pang of guilt. Being a full time mom was no joke, and he wished he could help her more. But hell would freeze over before he allowed his little girl in the studio- it was bad enough reader came in from time to time. He hated his wife seeing him in that role.

He pulled on clean clothes- jeans and a black shirt and bent over, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Was it him, or did she feel warm too? She blinked, and let out a tired yawn as she looked up at him. He saw the panic in her eyes.

“What time is Val? Where is the baby?” she asked, swinging herself out of bed.

“Baby is with Vox, go back to sleep my love,” he said soothingly as he caught her before she could stand up. “You need to rest.” He carefully looked at the watch on her wrist and opened the synched app on his phone. She was running a temperature too. Son of a bitch. “Do you feel okay?”

He listened to her as she inhaled and broke out into a coughing fit that sounded similar to what the kid had come down with. She shook her head no.

Double fuck.

“Honey, I’m going to bring you some medication and a drink. Do you want water or juice?” he asked.

“Water is fine.” She buried her face in her hands, only looking up when he brought both over to “I need a shower.”

“You’re free to do whatever you want, my love. I’ve got the baby.” He smoothed back her hair as she swallowed the drugs. “You rest, I need you to feel better too.” He pulled her to his chest and kissed the top of her head. “I can only do this by myself for so long. I need you back to full force, and that means lots of rest for you.”

She broke into a laugh that turned into a coughing fit. “That’s going to mean less sleep for you.”

“I’ll manage.” He wrapped his arms around her and cradled her head to his chest for a moment. “Go shower, love. I’m going to free Vox from her grasp.”

She nodded and he stood up. He waited outside the door for a few minutes until he heard the water running. Only then did he make his way back down the stairs.

“Princessa? Vox?” He called as he walked into the studio.

Vox turned around in his chair and shook his head, pressing a finger to his lips. Even from a distance, Valentino could see her tucked against Vox, his sleeves rolled up and his jacket covered her like a blanket. The drool stains on his shoulder were larger now, and was he wearing a different shirt?

“Shush, you’ll wake the baby,” Vox said softly as he carefully stood up and adjusted her against him.

She snuggled into his neck and started to fuss. Vox carefully handed her back to Valentino, ensuring she stayed wrapped up in his jacket.

“Hey baby, Daddy is here,” Valentino said quietly as he adjusted her in his arms. “Thanks, Vox.”

“Don’t mention it. That kid will rule the world someday, mark my words. I’ll see you after work tonight, happy to watch her for a few hours so you can get some rest too.” Vox handed him back the diaper bag. “She did puke by the way. Bright pink medicine, all over my shirt- totally wrecked it. Thank god you keep an extra tee shirt in the diaper bag, and I keep a spare set of my own in the office. I cleaned her up the best I could. But she fell asleep right after and I didn’t want to move her any more than I had to.”

God, there were definitely some parts of being a parent that were completely gross, even for Valentino.

She was fast asleep by the time Valentino carried her back upstairs. He pressed his lips to her forehead and was relieved to find she wasn’t burning up. A cool washcloth should help. He checked in on his wife, and seeing her fast asleep, made his way to the living room and laid down on the couch. It was a risk to lay the cloth on her neck but thankfully she didn’t stir.

As he laid on the couch with her in his arms, he wondered how he would get through the next few days, and hoped that whatever sickness took both his girls down stayed far, far away from him. He needed to take care of them, after all.

#valentino x reader #valentino x wife #valentino x you #the vees #hazbin fluff #vox x reader #the vees x reader #valentino #hazbin hotel #valentino hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel valentino #vox hazbin hotel #voxval #hazbin hotel fandom #hazbin x reader #hazbin #velvette #voxvel

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topazy · 2 months

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Teen spirit

Pairing: Carl Grimes × reader, Maggie Greene × sister reader

Warnings: Swearing

Chapter: 5.07

“Why can’t Maggie be in here?”

An older woman with auburn hair named Deanna smiles at you. She was in charge of Alexandria, and she would be deciding if your group would get to stay or not. You didn’t mind talking to her initially, but what made you uneasy was her videoing your conversation and not allowing your sister to sit in the room with you.

“I won't bite,” she smiles. “I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable; I just want to ask you a few questions.”

When your group first arrived in Alexandria, everyone was made to hand their weapons over, and now being asked personal questions... it felt intrusive. Deanna straightens out old-fashioned flora curtains before wiping her finger along her bookcase, which was fully stacked. She smudges the dust between her fingers, then turns to you and asks, “How long have you been out there?”

“Uh, I’m unsure. Two years maybe.”

She sits down in the chair across from you and asks, “How did you all find each other?”

“When someone got shot, they were brought to my family's farmhouse so my dad could help save them.”

She looks intrigued. “Is your father a doctor?”

“No, he was a veterinarian.”

“Smart man. I’m assuming because you’re referring to him in the past tense, he’s no longer with us.”

“I lost my dad not long ago.”

“Have you lost anybody else?”

“I lost my big brother Shawn, mom, and cousin Arnold all on the same day. Walkers attacked them. My dad and sister were killed by people.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she says, sounding sincere. “How old are you?”

“Fifteen.”

Deanna shakes her head and says, “You are far too young to have lost so much. I truly am sorry. So, as far as I’m aware, Rick is the leader of your group.”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“How do you think he does?”

You thought you could handle a few more questions, but tears began to swell. You didn’t like being asked anything because it brought everything you'd been through back. “Rick is a good person; everyone in our group is. We’re a family.”

—

Your group was given two large houses to stay in for now, but so far everyone has just gathered into one and is taking turns cleaning up. Being in the walled-off community felt like being in a TV show where the rich housewives live in the suburbs. The only thing you felt was normal was Daryl cutting open a possum while sitting on the porch. Your eyes widen when Rick walks outside; he has showered and shaved off his beard, making him look like a completely different person.

But then again, you looked different. After showing Rosita how to braid your hair, a nice blonde woman named Jesse dropped off some clean clothes for you to wear, along with toys for Judith.

“Has anyone been there yet?” You point to the house next door.

“I don’t think so,” Carl says, looking up at his dad. “Can we go check it out?”

Hesitantly, Rick agrees. “You can go look; just be quick and stick together.”

—

The house next door was nearly identical, aside from a few decorations. Growing up on a farm, you’d never dreamed of living in a modern home built like this. Carol had come with you to check it out; she was now leaning out of the kitchen window, talking to the people who live in the house next door.

When you hear a thumping noise coming from upstairs, you jump and grab Carl’s wrists. “Shit, sorry.” Feeling heat rush to your cheeks, you let go. “I’m just on edge.”

“It’s fine.” Carl offers you his hand. “I get it; I’m scared all the time too.”

He loosely holds onto your hand as you walk up the stairs, and when you reach the room, the noise is coming from Carl. He pulls out his knife and waits for you to do the same before pushing the door open. The room looks like a typical teenage hangout spot; the floor was covered in magazines, comics, CDs, and weirdly designed pillows with posters of bands you’ve never heard of before pinned to the walls.

“It’s weird, isn’t it?” Carl says, “These are probably things we would have been interested in if things were different.”

“Not me,” you sigh. “I would never have been allowed magazines with half-naked women on the cover. Shawn was grounded for two months when Maggie found a magazine with a woman wearing nothing but a bikini under his bed.”

Carl laughs while kicking a dusty blanket aside to see what’s underneath it. After a few moments of silence, he says, “You never talk about your brother much.”

A fleeting smile tugs at your lips. Being the youngest, Shawn completely doted on you, and as a child, you would follow him around like a shadow. He always had time for you. His death hit you so hard because you thought he would always be there to protect you, but he died trying to save your mom from walkers.

“Hope? You okay, you kind of zoned out there.”

Hearing Carl’s voice, you snap out of your thoughts and back to reality. “Yeah,” you say, smiling at him. “I was just thinking that my brother would have really liked you.”

—

You bite the insides of your cheeks to stop yourself from laughing. Judith looks so confused as an elderly couple. Natalie and Bob Miller fuss over her. It was clear there weren’t many kids around, and this was the first time anyone had seen a baby in years, so they were all excited to see Judith.

“Is that Jesse?” Carl asks quietly.

You look up and see his dad talking to her, “Yeah, she’s nice.”

“My dad seems to like her. He says we’re to go to her house later and meet her son, Ron.”

It was weird; the idea of being a normal teenager was starting to freak you out.

—

After showing you around his home, Ron led you and Carl up to his bedroom to introduce you to his friend Mikey and girlfriend Enid. You were still trying to wrap your head around the idea of returning to school in the afternoons, which was held in a garage, when Carl nudges you with his elbow to gain your attention.

“Sorry, what?”

Ron chuckles. “I said cool bracelet; where do you get it?”

“Em, Carl found them,” you mutter.

“Neat, kind of like a souvenir of the apocalypse.” He pushes his bedroom open. “Enid, Mikey, this is Carl and Hope.”

After an awkward introduction, Ron lists the different things that they do while hanging out, such as reading comics, playing video games, and playing pool. The fact they had electricity from solar panels was mind-blowing enough, but seeing all the stuff they had was leaving you speechless.

You smile at Enid as you sit on the edge of Ron's double bed, while Carol joins the other boys in playing video games. You thought it was a little bit in bad taste; they were playing a zombie video game, but don’t mind watching until a particular scene happens: one of the players finds a sword and begins decapitating the undead.

You and Carl exchange a look before you excuse yourself. “I gotta go; I need to help Maggie with something.”

—

Rick isn’t the slightest surprised when he enters Carl’s new bedroom and finds you in it as well. You were staring out the window in his room that overlooks the woods outside, watching as walkers gathered on the opposite side of the wall. While Carl lay on his bed, staring up at the ceiling.

Rick sits at the edge of the bed, asking, “How was Ron’s house?”

“What do you think of this place?” Carl asks him.

“Well, I think it seems nice.”

“Yeah, I like it here. I like the people, but they’re weak. And I don’t want us to get weak.”

The people here don’t have a clue what it’s like on the outside, and if the walkers broke through the wall, most of them would be dead in five minutes.

When Rick leaves, you go and sit on the floor with your back against the bed. You pick up one of the comics Carl found earlier, place it in your lap, and start to flip through. Feeling a tap on your shoulder, you look up and ask, “What?”

Carl looks as if he’s struggling to say something; after a moment, he swings his arm lower and links his fingers with yours.

#the walking dead #carl grimes x fem!reader #carl grimes fanfiction #carl grimes/reader #carl grimes fanfic #Carl Grimes x you #carl grimes x reader #Carl Grimes/you #carl grimes #teen spirit #teen spirit 5.07 #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead fanfic #twd fanfiction

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upat4amwiththemoon · 8 months

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i need some wanda angst ANYTHING PLSS

Wretched mirrors

Summary: Mom, are your arms open tonight?

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x daughter!reader

Warnings: angst, cursing, complicated mother-daughter relationship, bad mental health

Word count: 2259

a/n: you asked for it

Tags: @thought-of-you-and-me @rafecameronswhore @sayah13 @wandsmxmff @emsmultiverse @natashamaximoff69

masterlists | guidelines

Wanda hums a Sokovian lullaby with a smile on her face, as she braids five-year-old Y/N’s hair into a french braid. Y/N is swinging her legs, as her short feet can’t reach the floor yet, while she’s watching Bluey. Sometimes she giggles at the characters ok the television, and sings the opening song with them, clapping when the episode starts.

Every once in a while, Wanda has to set Y/N’s head back into a good position, so she can actually braid her hair, buy she doesn’t mind. This is her favorite time.

It’s early morning, the sun has just risen. There’s porridge in the pot, ready for them to eat once the braids are done. Birds are chirping outside and Wanda is spending time with her little girl. And she loves that little girl with her full heart. Her eyes are so innocent and big, they shine every time she learns something new. Her hair and skin is so soft, Wanda loves to hold her close as much as possible. Her tiny nose and chubby cheeks are perfect for playful pinching. She’s perfect. She couldn’t have asked for a better babygirl.

“All done, Y/N!” Wanda crouches in front of her, looking at her handiwork. “You look so cute, baby.” She smiles with her teeth and Y/N giggles. “Are you ready for breakfast?”

“Uhuh!” She raises her arms high in the air.

Wanda grins and lifts her up to the side of her hip. “Oh my goodness, how did my little girl get so tall all of a sudden?” She gasps, twirling them around.

Y/N giggles, “you’re holding me, mommy!”

“What are you talking about?” She gasps even deeper this time, lifting one of her arms up. “I’m not holding anything in this hand.”

“No!” Her laugh is like music for Wanda’s ears. “Other hand, silly mommy.”

“Is mommy being silly again?”

“Yes.”

Smiling, Wanda rubs her nose against Y/N’s. “Yes, she is, silly mommy. But guess what?” She grins, rubbing her cheek. “You’re my daughter, so you’re just as silly!”

Y/N starts laughing with her full body. The sound echoes through the house, making Wanda’s heart ache with joy. Her eyes tingle as she stares at her daughter.

Her daughter.

She’ll never get tired of saying that.

The pots and pans clang loudly as Wanda washes them. She’s using a lot more force than necessary for washing dishes. Y/N is sitting at the kitchen table, a math book in front of her and a pen in her hand. She’s trying to math work for school, but instead she’s crying.

“I’m sorry, mommy.” She cries out, too scared to look at her mother. “I’m really sorry, mommy.”

Wanda doesn’t answer. She slams a plate to the drying rack. Y/N is scared a dish will break.

“I didn’t mean to do so badly, I just didn’t get it.”

The tap gets turned off with force. “Do you understand how badly you embarrassed me?” Her voice is loud. She walks over and stops right next to Y/N, who is still too scared to look at her in the eyes. “Your grades have been so bad, the principal asked me if there are troubles at home. Do you at least get what that means, huh? It means your teachers think I’m a shit mother!”

“I’m sorry!” The tears are coming out faster.

“And then you start crying in front of the principal? You don’t do things like that!”

“You were yelling and I-“

“Oh, it’s all my fault again. I guess I’m the fucking worst mom then!” Wanda throws her hands in the air, walking to the living room and sitting on the couch. She turns the television on.

Y/N gets out of her seat, “you aren’t the worst mom,” she walks a few steps closer, trying to talk over the loud sound of the television, “you are a good mom, please. No one think you’re the worst.”

When Wanda doesn’t answer, Y/N drops down to her knees and start sobbing loudly. Wanda doesn’t stand up and come to comfort her, she doesn’t say anything, she doesn’t even look at her. All she does, is watch the show, and let Y/N cry, until the tears stop and she goes back to doing her math work.

“I think there’s something wrong with me.” Is the first thing coming out of Y/N’s mouth since they got into the car.

They’ve been driving for twenty minutes towards the campsite where Y/N will be sending a week with her friends. There’s still and hour and a half left to drive.

“No honey there’s nothing wrong with you, you’re perfect.” Wanda assures, fiddling with the control of the radio. She’s trying to find a good channel. “You’re just thirteen and a teenager. It’s all normal.”

“No, mom,” she lets out a heavy sigh, “I think there’s really something wrong with me. Something doesn’t feel right in my head.”

“You’re just tired.”

“But the tiredness is never ending!” She turns her head to look at Wanda. “Look at me, please, mom. I need you to see me. There’s something wrong with me and I need you to see it too.”

Wanda’s eyes stay on the road. “Stop saying that, there’s nothing wrong with you.” Her lips are in a thin line, and her brows are scrunched. She’s starting to get annoyed.

“There has to be something wrong with me! This can’t be who I am. Please, mommy!”

With sharp moves, Wanda drives the car to the side of the road and stops it. “Shut up, right now! You’re being so grateful right now. You had a good childhood, you got food and water whenever you wanted, you had a roof over your head and all the toys you wanted to play with. There are people with worse lives, who have actual problems. So either keep your goddamn mouth shut, or walk the rest of the way, do you hear me?” She doesn’t start driving against until Y/N nods.

The rest of the car drive goes in silence. Y/N looks out the window all the way to the campsite, fighting her tears while Wanda hums along the song on the radio.

Opening the door as quietly as she can, Y/N steps inside the house, slowly putting her shoes to the mat. She closes the door and starts sneaking towards the living room. She stops on her tracks when she notices the television is on. “Well, are you going to come in or not?” Wanda’s heavy voice comes from the living room. Not bothering to be quiet anymore, Y/N walks to the living room, where Wanda is sitting on the couch, watching the mute television. “Where the hell have you been?” She turns to look at her daughter, but all Y/N does is shrug. “Do you know what the time is?”

She glances at the clock, “three.”

“Three in the night.” She’s staring Y/N right into her eyes, and Y/N stares back. Her eyes are red, but it’s not from crying. She hasn’t cried in a long time.

“Fun.”

Wanda stands up, coming right in front of Y/N, so she has to look up at her. “What the hell is wrong with you? This isn’t the girl I know.”

“I’m not five anymore.”

“For fucks sake, Y/N, I know that, but you sure aren’t acting like a fifteen-year-old.” Y/N rolls her eyes and goes to walk away, but Wanda grabs her arm. “Don’t you roll your eyes at me. I am your mother and you’re supposed to respect me!”

“You don’t deserve my respect. You’re not a good person.” Her teeth are bared like an angry dog’s.

“And you think you are?” Wanda scoffs. “You’re my blood, so you’re just as bad. You’re horrible.”

Y/N is packing her things to two different boxes. One says to donation and the other to dorm. She’s nineteen years old and ready for college, ready to move away from her mother’s house. Most of the things in her room are already back, though she has to wait until tomorrow to actually leave. She’s taking the train to her university, not wanting to be in the same car with Wanda for six hours.

“Is packing coming along nicely?” Wanda appears to the doorway, leaning her shoulder against the doorframe. “I could help you out if you need me?”

“Uhh, I think I’ve got it.” She rubs the back of her neck, looking around her room. “There’s not much left.”

“Okay.”

They stand there in silence. Neither of them know how to talk to the other. Wanda never bothered to learn and Y/N gave up on trying. Besides, she couldn’t talk about the things she wanted to without crying, and she really doesn’t want to cry in front of her mom.

“Did you find any things to donate?”

“Some.”

Silence again. It’s making Y/N shake from the need to lay it all out for her. She wants to scream and throw things, but she just bites her lip. There’s no use. No matter what she says, her mother won’t lis-

“What do I have to do?” Y/N suddenly breaks the silence.

“Hm?” Wanda looks at her with a confused expression.

“What do I need to do to make you love me.” The silence is deafening. They’re staring at each other, but Wanda isn’t saying anything. She never does. “Tell me what to do!” Her voice gets louder, but Wanda doesn’t react. It makes Y/N angrier. All the times she was sobbing while her mother punished her with silent treatment coming to her mind. She hates silence. She can’t sleep in a quiet room anymore. “Tell me how to change myself to make you love me!” The tears start falling, and all Wanda does is stare. “Because it hurts, mom, it hurts so bad.” She’s getting desperate. She wants to hurt her, not physically, but the way she has hurt her. All she wants is for Wanda to feel the way she has always felt growing up. But instead of saying something hurtful, all she says is, “I’m sorry for being a bad daughter.”

Wanda walks out of the room, and Y/N wipes away her tears before continuing her packing.

After a few hours, Y/N is sitting on her bed, reading a book. A smell is coming from the kitchen, which tells her dinner is almost ready. She doesn’t want to go downstairs, at least not until Wanda somehow expresses she isn’t angry anymore.

Her whole body tenses when she hears steps coming upstairs. She’s holding her breath when Wanda walks into the room and sits behind her on the bed.

Y/N puts her book down, but doesn’t say anything. All Wanda does is set her head to a correct position and start making a french braid. There’s a piece stuck in Y/N’s throat as she sits there, it makes her whole body hurt, but she fights back the second set of tears threatening to fall.

Wanda’s fingers work in a fast and skillful pace, having done this multiple times. Y/N’s hair is longer now, and there’s a lot more of it, but still it gets done quickly. She puts the ponytail in place, kisses Y/N’s cheek and walks right out of the room.

Y/N takes the braid to her hand and holds it against her cheek. She starts crying silently. It doesn’t feel the same as it did when she was five years old.

Breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth, Y/N holds her phone in hand. There’s a small cupcake in front of her with candles that say 22 on them. She hasn’t eaten it yet.

Her hands are shaking and black spots are starting to appear in her vision. Whatever is wrong with her, is starting to get worse again. She thought she had gotten better after moving on her own, but it all came rushing back after the initial relief. It was manageable for a long time, but these past few months, she has started to feel like she’s drowning.

She’s afraid she’ll do something bad if she doesn’t get help.

Which is why she has been gathering courage to call her mom and tell her she want to come back home, that she needs to come back home. How she feels like she won’t survive if she’s all alone. She needs her mom.

“I need help, I want to come home.” She mumbles quietly to herself as practice before pressing the contact on her phone and bringing it to her ear. She waits for three rings before Wanda answers. “Hi, mom.” Her voice is quieter than usual.

“Hi, honey. Happy birthday!”

She’s tired.

“Thanks, mom.” She huffs out a laugh.

She’s just tired.

“How’s it going over there?”

“Hm, it-“

“Oh, you can’t believe what the weather has been like over here.”

Y/N freezes. She grips the phone tighter. “What has it been like?”

“Crazy. It was raining so much yesterday, and today there’s some kind of wind monster outside.” Her mother laughs. “What’s the weather been like over there?”

“Sunny.”

“Oh, isn’t that great! I wish we’d get sun more over here, I’m getting fired of…”

And Wanda continues talking. And Y/N continues listening. The phone call lasted for thirty minutes. All they talked about was the weather.

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cowboybeepboop · 1 year

Text

Through the window

“Fuck you”

“Baby thats what youre gonna do”

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x fem!reader

Genre: smut

Word count: 2214

Summary: Late night self pleasure turns into more than self pleasure.

Warnings: p in v, mainly porn with some plot, disgusting words for clit cause it got a little awkward at 1 am, use of vibrator, age gap (like three years), major daddy issues, kinda some Voyeurism, roughness from Bradley but with sweetness, praise kink, hair pulling, getting caught.

A/N: Literally just me writing this while sobbing to Shawn Mendes songs, also I wrote most of it while sitting out in front of my school 💪😩💪 I’m a fucking vibe. I don't know if there's like a big fandom on here anymore considering Top Gun Mav has been out for a while now but yk who cares. Also lowkey have been binging Harry Potter and the last of us so maybe I’ll write some of that later. Not proof read like ever

Bradley has been your built-in best friend, being Mavericks daughter means that you spent the majority of your childhood eating dinners with Carole, having Carole brush your hair and tuck you into bed. Carole Bradshaw became your adoptive mom, she taught you to cook, bake, sew, she helped you with your homework and made sure you knew your worth.

Mav was hardly ever around, he put his heart and soul into being a better person so that Goose wouldn’t be disappointed in him, this being said he forgot about the responsibility of actually taking care of his child. But you never blamed him for it, maybe it’s because when he was there with you all he ever wanted to do was cuddle on the couch watching your favorite films. Sometimes he would come home and lay his head on your lap and you would brush and braid his hair.

So, because of your sometimes absentee father, Bradley filled in. He was there with Mav for every milestone, kindergarten graduation, elementary school choir concerts, he even took time from his busy schedule to come to your highschool graduation.

Which makes your sexual attraction to him all the more disgusting, he basically was your stand in father, even though he was only 3 years older than you. But when Maverick finally realized he had a responsibility to spend more time with you, Brad stopped being like a father figure and more like an older friend who you had the hots for.

Bradley hasn’t been home for months-or longer, you totally haven’t been counting, and it totally hasn’t been exactly 8 months 3 weeks and 5 days. He isn’t planning on coming back any time soon, at least if he is he hasn’t told you, which is why you’re stuck pouting with your face between your hands as a few people purchase drinks from the bar.

You work at Penny’s bar, The Hard Deck, which is lowkey awkward considering your dad used to date her. But nonetheless she treats you like her own daughter. The only thing you dislike about working with her is the fact that she scolds you when you flirt while working, it's understandable but makes you want to roll your eyes.

Maverick walks in with a small smile on his face, sitting down at the bar in front of you, “How’s your day Y/N?”.

“It’s pretty good Mav, Penny might want to talk to you though,” winking at him you walk away, heading in the direction of the dart board.

“Hey boys, need a refill?” you smile sweetly, tapping your heel against the wooden floor softly.

“Thank you, baby girl,” Hangman smirks as he hands you the empty bottles, “you know which tab to add it to right?” he nods toward Coyote.

You give a small nod and head back to the bar to grab two more beer bottles, you add the total to Coyote’s tab. He lost in darts, even after covering Jake’s eyes, one more night and you don’t think you’ll be able to withstand his charm any longer.

“Y/N it’s time for you to clock out, if you want to beat the rush and get to your date on time,” your eyes light up.

“Thank you Pen!” you smile gathering your things before clocking out. “See you tomorrow evening.” Penny nods at you, smiling at you softly as you rush out of the door.

__________

Hours have passed along with another failed attempt at online dating. Both things have led to you lying in your bed holding your breath as you imagine what it'd be like if Bradley came home and surprised you.

It started off innocent, him holding your waist close to him, the heat radiating from his chest as you sucked in a deep breath. Basking in his mahogany, sandalwood and vanilla musky scent, it made your knees weak, your eyes roll into the back of your head.

Your body felt hot, like you were boiling from the insides out. Squeezing your legs tightly together to keep your panties from soaking your bedsheets.

While biting your lip you carefully open the shoebox hidden underneath your bed, grabbing your bright pink bullet vibrator. If your dad came home, you’d know, so locking the door wasn’t a big priority.

Sucking in a deep breath you relax against your plush mattress. Licking your lips you spread your legs being gentle while unbuttoning your shirt, being slow with each button to build up the tension.

Once you finally peel off your blouse, you throw it to the side of the room before leisurely unzipping your skirt. You’re starting to become impatient, every part of your body is aching to be touched by Bradley’s calloused hands.

“For fucks sake,” a soft whine escapes your parted lips, squeezing your eyes shut you begin roaming your hands all over your body. You squeeze the soft part of your body, moaning Bradley’s name as you do so.

Spreading your legs, you pull down your panties, running a finger through your soaked lips. Once you find the bundle of nerves you start rubbing soft and steady circles into it, this causes your hips to jerk a little while your eyes roll back.

You wrap a hand around your neck putting a comfortable amount of pressure on it, soft moans spill from your lips as you push your hips up begging for more friction. You press the smooth button, listening to the faint hum, you press down two more times. The soft hum from before has become more intense and slightly louder.

Let’s be honest, masturbation is nothing compared to sex. Especially the sex you’ve been dreaming and lusting over since age 16.

A soft smile forms on your lips as you press the rough tip against the hood of your clit, your muscles all tense up while your breathing stops for just a second. It sounded like a rock or something else small had hit your window, after waiting for a few seconds you decide it's probably nothing and press the vibrator against your nub.

You bite down on your lip harshly, squeezing your neck roughly. Sadly, you have a shitty toy because desperate times call for desperate measures so there isn’t much more it can give. Removing the hand from your neck, pushing two fingers into your pulsating hole.

Unbeknownst to yourself, there was now a visitor in your room, one who snuck in from your open window. Hiding in the dark corner next to your window, a hand clasped against his mouth as he absorbed the sight of you desperate and needy begging for more.

“Bradley harder!” you moan loudly, as you pick up the pace of your fingers,your back arching. Cum spills from your pussy, you sink back into the mattress, sighing discontentedly.

“Oh, Sweetheart.” the familiar voice rings through the now silent room. You instantly throw your hands over your chest and squeeze your legs together tightly. “If you needed some help you could have just asked for it.” Bradley walks out into the middle of your room, staring down at you with darkened eyes.

“B-bradley, when did you get in here?” you try to play it cool but sweat is forming on your forehead as you rapidly cover up with a blanket, eyes shifting to the window.

“Do you mean, how much did I see? Or rather how much I heard?” He raises his eyebrows with a smirk, you nod as your cheeks turn a deep red. “Not much, just you pleading for me to be rougher, is that really how you like it princess?”.

“Bradley! Shut up,” you cover your face with your hands while trying to figure out the best thing for you to do now. “Look, I didn’t know you were stopping by. I’m sorry that you, uhm, that you saw what you saw.” Your voice cracks while you barely take a breath, his shoes clack against the floor as he makes his way to you.

The dip in the bed being the sign that he’s next to you. “Y/N, I really don’t care.” He pries your hands off your face. “I know you didn’t know I was coming into town, because it was a surprise.” He sucks in a deep breath, “I just didn’t know I was the one who would be surprised.”

The room fills with silence, just your accelerated breathing and the ticking of your alarm clock. “Hey Brad… Can you please leave?” you push your face into your knees.

Bradley licks his lips, “I think I have a better idea,” he runs a finger down your spine while pressing kisses into your shoulder. Your body relaxes into him as you sigh quietly, he pulls your face from your legs “Look at me, my pretty girl,” you slowly open your eyes while avoiding making eye contact,

“Darlin’ I want you to look in my eyes,” biting your lower lip you look up at him innocently, his hands move to cup your cheeks and pull you into his face. “Fuck, you’re so hot,” he grips your neck and leans into kiss you.

You move onto his lap while tangling your fingers in his hair, he groans into your mouth before pulling back. Bradley pulls away from your lips and moves to kiss your neck, using his body to push your back against your bed. You gasp as he explores your body with his mouth, calloused fingers pinching your nipples.

Arching into him you moan loudly as he pushes a finger into your throbbing pussy. “You like that?” his voice low and seductive, using his thumb he presses your nub softly. Bradley presses kisses all over your stomach, groaning at the sight of you so needy under him, pre cum leaks from his tip as he grinds against the bed.

“I need you right now, please,” you grab Bradley by his face and pull him up. Kissing his lips passionately while grinding down on his fingers.

“Oh what a needy little slut you are, huh?” He pushes two more fingers into you, “is this what you needed? Or is this a little more up your alley.” He smirks while wrapping a hand around your throat, applying ample pressure.

“Fuck you,” you groan, lips parting as your chest heaves, gasps pouring from your mouth.

“Baby, that's what you’re gonna do,” he taunts, Bradshaw has had enough. He finally lays down and pulls you onto his stomach, his hands massage your thighs as he lifts your hips up.

“Bradley wait,” your hands rest on his chest, “ condom, left middle drawer”. He leans over grabbing the small golden wrapper, ripping it open with his teeth, fumbling with the latex as he squeezes it over his tip.

“Thanks for reminding me princess,” he tucks your hair behind your ear, “now ride me babe,”.

Lining your hole up with his tip you begin to lower yourself down on him, moans leave your parted lips. He furrows his eyebrows, hands moving up to cup your breasts, you sink down on his length, wincing at the uncomfortable stretch.

“Fuck, good girl,” bradley groans, his shakey breathing fills your senses. You lift your hips slowly bouncing on his dick, he grabs your ass squeezing roughly. Your hands explore his abs as you use his body to steady your own.

Your eyes squeeze tight, body tightening up around him. Twirling your fingers into your hair you grasp the strands pulling at his roots.

Bradley flips the pair of you over, his eyes dark and dominant as he hovers over you, his hips thrust into yours at a steady pace. He lowers his head to suck on your erect nipple, one hand wraps around your neck squeezing just enough to slow your breathing.

Your arms wrap around his neck as you pull him to you, kissing his lips passionately, your nails dig into his back. Bradley presses his middle finger into your clit, rubbing rough circles into it, while trying to hold back moans you bury your face in his nape.

His thrusts become sloppy, bradleys hand tightens around your neck causing you to arch into him, he leans down sucking dark hickeys into your neck. “Darling, I’m so close,” the sound of skin slapping fills the room as you nod in response.

“Me too Bradley,” you whine quietly. Bradley uses his middle and pointer finger to rub sloppy circles into your sensitive nub, causing your body to jerk forward and your eyes to flutter shut, soft moans fill his ears.

He runs his hand through your hair pulling your head back. Bradley throws his head back in pleasure, you begin to tighten up around him drawing out a long groan. “Rooster,” you chant his name, “more, please I need more,”, he complies with your desires and angles your bodies so he hits even deeper.

Hugging your body close to his, he thrusts a couple more times before you cum around him, Bradley slows down as he cums. His body jerks softly, “Thats the best welcome home present ive ever gotten love,” he whispers into your ear.

Your bedroom door opens, revealing Maverick, “Get your clothes on and meet me in the living room,” his stern voice shakes you to the core.

Well shit

#top gun #top gun fandom #top gun x reader #top gun maverick #top gun smut #top gun rooster #rooster x reader #rooster x you #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw x female reader #top gun imagine #top gun maverick smut #top gun fic #miles teller #miles teller imagine #miles teller x reader #phoenix top gun #bob top gun #fanboy top gun

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axailslink · 1 year

Text

Help me dip my hair

Some snippets of how that situation ^^^ with all of the characters I write for.

A/n: this is for my black readers especially because well this is a black reader thing. (Dipping your hair after getting braids by the way that's what's happening here.)

Shuri Udaku

Shuri looks at the pot of water then back at you before shaking her head "I'm not doing that" you laugh seeing her weary facial expression "I'm not doing that you're not about to be mad at me because I accidentally burned you I'll have Okoye help you but I simply refuse." You grab her hand with a serious face "Okoye doesn't have hair what makes you think she knows anything about hair?" Shuri laughs "I don't know I just know I will not be blamed when you are burned." You grab your towel and press it into her hands anyway but she continues to shake her head she gently grabs your hair and pulls your head back a bit "this is giving me flashbacks." Shuri laughs as she grabs the pot and carefully dips the ends of your braids "dip them a bit further" she does as asked and you flinch purposely "damnit you burnt me" Shuri pauses in her actions "I'm sorry baby where!?" You laugh and she straight faces you as she sits the pot down "babe I'm sorry" she just glares at you as you catch your hair in the towel before it can drip all over the floor. "So you gone give me the silent treatment? It was just a joke I was joking" Shuri walks off leaving you in the kitchen you can't help but laugh to yourself.

Riri Williams

Riri happens to be a pro at this she has you sitting in the chair and wraps a towel around your shoulders "babe don't burn me" Riri nods "I got you but you got to be still" You nod slowly as she gently dips the ends of your hair she slowly pulls the pot away and grabs your hair in the towel with one hand as she carefully places the pot out of the way. Riri gently dries the hair pulling down so it doesn't curl she sections the hair off and continues to dry it when she's done she taps your shoulder. "Baby you're good" you're honestly not surprised because you knew someone was doing her hair when it wasn't you.

Vivienne Scott (Scotty)

Scotty is shaky as she pushes your head into the sink she grabs the pot and slowly pours it over the ends of your hair. Her mom watches from the couch curiously "Viv you know how to do hair?" Scotty puts the pot on the other side of the sink and places a towel under your hair "yeah I worked at a hair shop for a while." There is honestly nothing that Scotty can't do in your eyes people assume she's some kid but she's had many jobs she knows more than the average adult. "As she dries your hair over the sink you lean up and press a firm kiss to her lips causing her to smile and look away "hold on you can't be doing that all of a sudden you got me smiling." More knowledgeable than the average yet still easily flustered.

Jamie Harrison

Has absolutely no idea what she's doing so you end up doing it on your own. "You sure you just don't want to cut it short like mine?" You raise a brow at her "Jamie if you come near my head with any sort of blade I I'm going to beat the dog shit out of you." Jamie looks at you confused "I don't know what the fuck that means..." You roll your eyes and shake your head "how does that even make sense Y/n? You can beat someone until they shit like a dog... Oh my God that's what it means?" You can't help but laugh at her moment of realization even though she is still very wrong. You end up doing this on your own however Jamie does pay close attention just in case she has to later.

Rosalie Otterbourne

(help me style my finger waves since you know her character is set in the 1930s)

Rosalie eyes you from over the counter but says nothing as you play a hard game of spades with her aunt. "Rosie can you do my hair for me? Me and Salome have a big performance tonight" Rosie smiles "why you telling me like I ain't know? I arranged it" she carefully comes behind you and takes the rollers out of your hair you hand her the bobby pins which she holds in her mouth as she carefully places them. Rosalie will tell you and anyone else she knows nothing about hair but when asked oh Rosalie will deliver she's a bit heavy handed but she definitely knows what to do.

A/n: not going to lie doing these saves me so much time

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lunedottir · 10 months

Text

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤSIBLING DYNAMICS WITH GWEN !! ♡⁠ (⁠˃͈⁠ ⁠દ⁠ ⁠˂͈⁠ ⁠༶⁠ ⁠)

pairing: platonic!Gwen Stacy x fem!black!reader / mom!Jessica Drew x adopted!Gwen Stacy x reader.

genre: fluff! headcanons! a liiiiiiittle bit of angst! just a little bit 🤏🏾

warnings: english is not my first language, daddy issues, pregnancy ig, mentions of normal sibling violence

a.n: hello!! :3 this is the first day of my challenge of writing something everyday for the entirety of July! so yeah! this popped out on my head when i was having a conversation with my brother so i wanted to write it down! anyways, love y'all, be safe! <3 xoxo

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤPLEASE CONSIDER REBLOGGING!!

it started with Jess talking about Gwen all the time. you were jealous, yeah, but you wouldn't admit it. the girl was disinherited by her father over being spiderwoman, which was ridiculous. but you could relate, since your own father left your mother when he found out she was spiderwoman. but that's not the point. over the time, Gwen started visiting more, having more sleepovers, and all that stuff. until the day Jess came home asking how you would like a sister. obviously you already knew what she was talking about, so, yeah let's now go to the ✨ sibling dynamics ✨.

⁠↳ when Gwen gets more comfortable, oh boy, poor Jess

↳ you two are a menace to this woman

↳ you're always fighting about something

↳ mostly because Gwen took something of yours, like a shirt or a hoodie

↳ she says they're more comfortable than hers and would die on this hill

↳ likes to go to your room and just lay on the floor while you do your stuff

↳ or just walk around and read a book, or sit on the ceiling and creep at you

|ㅤ "can you stop? you're freaking me out."

|ㅤ "nah. btw why do you have so many entries about hobie in your diary?"

|ㅤ "mOOOM"

|ㅤ "nO NO NO STOP"

↳ and then you'd throw a stapler at her

↳ if you knew how to cook, would definitely teach Gwen so she could go to the cookout at the Morales'

↳ Jess doesn't approve Miles to date Gwen but oh well

↳ you would be the BEST wingwoman for Gwen, always going out with her as a disguise

↳ hobie, pav, margo and miles would defo have a sleepover at your house when Mom™ is out in mission

|ㅤ "mom can the boys and Margo sleepover?"

|ㅤ "while i'm away? nuh uh!"

|ㅤ "but mom-"

|ㅤ "did your sister agree with that"

|ㅤ "uhm…"

|ㅤ "Y/N DID YOU AGREE WITH THE SLEEPOVER"

|ㅤ "YEAH MOM IT'S FINE"

↳ and she would give Gwen the most criminal offensive side eye ever given, but everything would work out fine (lie).

↳ she learned how to braid hair so you wouldn't have to do it by yourself, cause she saw how tiring it was for you to do your own braids

↳ you take care of each other's hair like, in general

↳ would only go to salons when really needed

↳ defo do each others nails

↳ (projecting w this one but 🤭) you like acrylic nails and she likes them short

↳ you would do all the prep for your nails and she would do like cool designs or pick the colors

↳ TALKING ABOUT COLORS

↳ y'all don't match outfits, you match the color schemes!!!!

|ㅤ "i wanna do red"

|ㅤ "nah let's go with purple, G"

|ㅤ "but red-"

↳ and there goes another argument :D

↳ Gwen has nightmares almost every night

↳ so it's common for you to go to her room in the middle of the night just to calm her down

↳ she would cry on your shoulder every time, and apologize a thousand times about waking you up

|ㅤ "ay, don't worry, G. you're my sister, I'm here for you"

↳ and she would cry even harder

↳ overall you're very protective over each other

↳ but you did chase her with a knife once... meh, another day another slay !

↳ she loves you more than anything

↳ and so do you <3

↳ mama Jess is just grateful for the blessings.

tagging: @ppinkkkiwi @elusive-honeydew

#gwen stacy #platonic gwen stacy #gwen stacy x you #gwen stacy x reader #mama jess atsv #jessica drew x reader #atsv x reader #sibling dynamics #moon writes!#fluff headcanons #31 days with moon!#writing challenge

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vampzzi · 10 months

Note

Hobie with Goth s/o babysitting Mayday and having her listen to music that kids her age don't usually listen to?!?!?

I just think the idea is super cute <3

COLORFUL BABYSITTERS !!

SPIDERPUNK X GOTHIC S/O

author note; YESSS, when I saw this I know I needed to see this!! This is kinda bad cause I’m sleepy but once it was submitted. It needed to be written immediately!!

— “ I’D LOVE TOO !! “ Hobie had asked if you wanted to help babysit Mayday since Pav was busy with his girlfriend and her modeling career. A lot of people would turn you down to babysit because of the way you dressed and the stereotype that had built off your genre. You had always gotten weird stares and random side conversations about you when you walked down the street on sunny mornings. But you had confidence in your style and you weren’t about to let some strangers ruin that for you.

Peter knew who you were, he’d talk to you numerous times and at first he was a little frightened but as he got to talk to you, he eased up with you and Mayday seemed to love you when you guys paid together. Sitting on the carpet playing patty cake or Mayday giggling while playing with your jewelry it was a sickly sweet sight Hobie couldn’t deny he enjoyed seeing you in. “'avin fun 'here love?” as he returned with baby food for Mayday.

“Having tons of fun” your black lips cracked in a smile as Mayday clapped her hands babbling something as you turned your head “what you tryna say?” you said curiously and Hobie just stood there with the baby food as you looked back at him “right, feeding her.”

Today was the usual, Peter had opened the door and welcomed you inside and he and his wife were off. Leaving you guys to tend to Mayday. She smiled and babbled when we walked into the room. “Hii Mayday” you picked her up out of the crib and held her close as she drooled and put her hand on her face. How about we play a game with your toys again? Just like last time?

Picking up her toy and shaking it as she got overly excited and Hobie was scrolling on his phone. “Come on Hobie, we’re gonna play.” Ushering him to join you and Mayday as you guys sat on her fluffy carpet as mayday picks up the doll as Hobie is sitting down on the carpet with both of you as you hand him a black haired doll. Hobie had noted previously she reminded him of her because of her clothing. “Looks jus' like you”

“Mhmm” you picked up a random doll and you guys played with the dollhouse that was also on the carpet. “Oh my god, the kitchen is on fire!!” You exclaimed as mayday giggled and Hobie chimed in “We should pu' i' ou'”. Agreeing with this claim as you guys pretended to put out the fire, Hobie managed to get a few pictures of you and mayday playing and then got a full video of all them playing for memories.

After a while it got boring and Mayday was getting bored and started whining so you guys switched to snacks and hair. Picking up Mayday and taking her to the kitchen as Hobie followed close behind, Hobie got her and helped her reach her Cheetos on the top of fridge and you settled on something to drink. When everything was gathered, you all headed back to the room.

You sat on the floor and Hobie put Mayday in your lap while he sat on the floor, relaxed a bit. “You should take her, wanna put your hair in ponytails” Hobie looked at you as you gave that look of adoration, he couldn’t say no to as he sat in front of you as you took some scrunches and toyed with his wicks before capturing them into a ponytail. Then the next one.

“Looking gorgeous babe” you let out a little chuckle and Hobie playfully punched your thigh “ha ha funny” as he switched spots again. You took Mayday into your lap and began to French braid her ginger hair as Hobie took the top of the container and handed her the baby Cheetos.

Hobie watched closely as you braided her hair“You’re so good a' 'ha'” he said while closely observing the way you worked with ease and quickness “My mom taught me when I was younger, It’s something I hold dearly to me cause I love braiding.” Hobie just nodded, the room was kinda silent and you disliked silence cause that was boring. “Hobie, you should play that song we love”

Hobie was unlocking his phone and clicking on his SoundCloud as he scrolled through the many playlist before finding the one you two share. “We share a lo' ov songs, we enjoy 'oge'her dove. Gonna 'ave 'o be mawe specific”. You clicked your tongue as you finished up Mayday’s French braid “Let’s go to bed by The Cure”

The song flicked on and the smoothing beat filed the room, as you nodded your head while Mayday looked up at you and babbled. “Not a lot of people your age get to listen to music like this, gotta let you get a variety of music” Hobie agreed “If 'ha' ain’' righ’”. You had gotten up and handed Hobie Mayday as you held your arms straight and began dancing to the beat, Mayday copying you and as she held her little arms out and began swaying them. You guys giggled as you began to dance to the music , the song drifted on for a while.

“We should let her listen to her to Strawberry Switchblade, I think she’d also like it” as the song turnt on you had sat down and laid on Hobie while the song played and was slowly dozing off as the music played in the background. It had only taken a couple minutes before she was slowly snoring. A long yawn was drawn out of you as you pulled her up and put her in her crib as Hobie turnt the music off while you tucked her in, kissing her head. “Sleep well Mayday”

#SPIDERVINYL #spider punk #spider punk x you #spider punk x reader #spider punk x y/n #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x you #hobie x y/n #hobie brown #baby mayday #peter b parker

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giggly-squiggily · 1 year

Text

A Monstrous Craving: First Selection (Blue Lock)

Such an intense gif oh my-

Hey y'all! Happy April Fools Day! I don't really have any strong feelings about the day, but since today is one of hi-jinks and shenanigans, I figured why not make the most mischievous Blue Lock character of all a fic to celebrate?

This is part 1 of 2 fics I'm writing: This one takes place during the First Selection with Team Z, while the second one will take place during Second Selection (No spoilers in either, just lots of Bachira tickle-related shenanigans) I hope you like it!

CW: Swearing, gang tickles

Summary: Bachira wakes up with only one goal in mind; become the Ultimate Blue Lock Tickle Monster.

Bachira Meguru was a simple, if not whimsical boy.

He loved taking naps throughout the day. He enjoyed canned pineapple and a warm bowl of rice in the morning. He likes drawing dolphins on his things and adores Soccer with every thread in his body.

Oh, and he loved messing with his teammates.

How could he not? 11 different personalities essentially locked in the same room- it was bound to happen, this sudden craving of messing with them. Bachira hadn’t planned it- he simply woke up one morning with a single thought in mind.

“Today- I’m gonna get them all.”

~~~

Fingers worked meticulously through silky red strands. Chigiri was half out of it- despite a shower and leg care that morning, his brain wasn’t quite on yet. The good thing about his current hairstyle was he did it so many times these days it became muscle memory, so there was no need to fight for a spot in the bathroom mirror.

Bachira sat behind him, mesmerized as he worked. He loved watching hair braiding- he used to watch his mom do the same thing to her own hair before gathering her paints, his little boy brain blown as she smoothed it down into a single neat rope. Even now, he couldn’t help but be amazed by how effortless Chigiri made it look.

But right now wasn’t the time to gawk. He had a small window of opportunity.

This hairstyle required both arms up and out of the way, giving Bachria the perfect place to attack. He waited until Chigiri was tucking the last bobby pin against the base before shooting his hands out, going straight for the armpits.

“AH!” Chigiri squealed, falling backwards with a high-pitched yelp. Then he was laughing, squirming to and from against Bachira’s chest as he tried blocking out the mischievous fingers. “Gehahahahahaha! Noooo! Nohoohoho, don’t you dahhahahhare!”

“Good morning, ChiChi! How are you today? Aww, are you ticklish?” Bachria cooed, watching his cheeks go red as he covered his face in mirth, feet kicking. “What lovely hair- is it secure? Just testing out the endurance of it!”

“Bahhahahahchira, cohoohohome ohoohohohon!” Chigiri cried out, all but squeaking when those hands lowered to his ribs. “Plehhahahahhahahse!”

“Hehe, okay~” Bachira retreated, standing up and leaving a now exhausted Chigiri gasping for air against the floor. His hair- to Bachira’s satisfaction- remained the same. “Test complete- that’s a strong braid you got going on! Okay- bye bye!” He turned to leave, barely hearing Chigiri’s muffled curse as he went to find his next victim.

~~~

“Hm?” Gagamaru blinked when he felt a tap on his arm, turning to find-

Nothing. There was no one there.

“Is that you, Naruhaya?” He asked casually, figuring the tiny player was hiding in his blind spot. Another tap, this one on his elbow. He turned, and still- there was no one. “I’m not giving you food. I don’t even have any on me right now.”

Silence. Maybe he was being haunted?

Wouldn’t be the first time.

Another tap, this one on his lower back. Twisting- he found Naruhaya sitting by. “Found you!” He ran up, missing the fact the younger boy was sitting way too far to be the culprit, and grabbed his sides- squeezing gently. “What are you up to, you food thief?”

“Aheheahhahahaha! Whahahhahait, I dihihihiidn’t ehehehehven mohohohohove!” Naruhaya cried, cheeks flushing an adorable shade of pink as he squirmed and giggled in Gagamaru’s clutches. “I prohohoohoohmise!”

“Yeah right- you keep tapping me and running. I know your tricks.” Gagamaru moved a hand to his belly, making him squeal. “Confess, and I’ll let you be.”

“BUUHUHUHUT I DHIIHIHIHN’T DOOHOOHOH IT!”

“Keep on saying that-” Something brushed his shoulders, making the bigger boy shoot up. Forgetting to tickle, he turned- finding nothing once more. Okay- he was definitely haunted.

“What’s going on? Are you bullying Naruhaya, Gaga-chan?” Bachira tsked, walking up with a secret smile. Ah- there’s his ghost. “That’s not very nice of you. Naru-chan? Wanna get him back?”

“Yehehahhahah!” Naruhaya didn’t need to be told twice, already standing.

“Wait…don’t do it…” Gagamaru held up his hands, but the pair were already on him, fingers flying over his torso. He tried fighting back, but then Bachira found that same spot against his shoulder blades and it was all over. “Oh nohohohoohohooho!”

“Oh yes!” Bachira giggled, stepping back as Naruhaya took over, giggling along with him. Good luck, Gaga-chan! Now, who's next…?”

~~~

“X”

“Oh come ON!”

“What? ‘X’ is a fair guess!”

“Just how many words do you know that have an ‘X’ in them?”

“Xenomorph, X-Ray, Excalibur-”

“IT’S SIX LETTERS!”

“Guys, calm down.” Kuon sighed from his spot, shaking his head as he drew a foot on the hanging stick figure. “Unfortunately, ‘X’ is not on the list. Wanna buy a vowel?”

“Told you.” Raichi rolled his eyes at Iemon, crossing his arms across his chest as he glared at the notepad. So far, the six spaces contained a “O”, a “T” and a “R”. “Eh..sure. Give me a- “YEE!”

“‘YE’ is two letters.” Kuon raised a brow. “Which one?”

Raichi twisted around, rubbing his sides. He swore someone just poked him in the ribs. “Hang on- What the hell, Iemon? Why are you trying to sabotage?”

“Me? I didn’t do anything!” The goalie squawked in shock, eyes widening at the accusation. “Tell him, Kuon!”

“Really- he didn’t move.” Kuon nodded, tilting his head. “What’s up?”

“...Nothing- forget it. I’m guessing ‘E’” Raichi waved it off, a pinch of smugness in his chest when Kuon wrote it in. “See? I’m good at guessing!”

“If you're so good, why not go for the word then?” Iemon asked, turning to the paper. “Actually- I’ll do it. I know the answer!”

“Take a shot!” Kuon got ready. Iemon opened his mouth to speak-

And what came out was a string of giggles.

“...What?” Raichi blinked when the other settled, face on fire.

“I-something- that was…” Iemon stammered. “Nevermind. I’m guessing..’P’?”

“Close, but no.” Kuon popped the marker cap, going to draw a leg. “Not a bad gue-AHH!” His hand slipped, cutting across the paper when he felt two fingers drill into the center of his ribs. Now the little stick man had an elongated broken leg. “What the-”

“Ah! Fuhuhuhuck! No dohoohohn’t!” Raichi hooted when hands attacked his hips, squeezing from behind. Iemon blinked, catching a blur of brown-blond hair.

“Bachi-Gahahhahahaha!” Iemon spasmed when his ribs were once again attacked, this time lingering. “Whahahhahahht?”

“Huh? What-Ehehehehehehhe! Kuon arched with a giggle, notepad flying out of his hands as he tried guarding his armpits, feeling them prodded at.

It went as quickly as it came, leaving the three to stare at one another in wide eyed shock.

What the hell just happened?

~~~

Kunigami let out a slow breath as he positioned himself parallel to the mats. His muscles pulsed, sweat dripping off his bare chest as he began his one armed pushups. The gym was uncharacteristically quiet- usually one or two people would wander in at this hour to get a quick run or lift some weights. Today- Kunigami figured- everyone else was simply too tired to do it.

“KUNI!”

“SHIT-”

Nevermind then.

Bachira laughed gleefully as he watched Kunigami faceplant, groaning softly against the worn-in mats. “Wow- look at you, using one arm! Trying to show off?” He waltzed over and grabbed a nearby towel, tossing it across Kunigami’s back before taking a seat. “Why not wait until he comes in?”

Kunigami didn’t ask who “he” was, nor did he complain about the additional weight against his back. Instead, he adjusted himself so he was pushing with both hands, resuming his workout. “I don’t just do this for attention, Meguru. I do it because I love it.” Kunigami grunted some as Bachira adjusted, lying across his back and evening out the weight distribution.

“But you like it though? ChiChi watching you?” He teased, grinning when Kunigami’s neck flushed.

“...Maybe.”

“Admit it!” Bachira giggled, dropping his hands down and clawing at the softer parts of Kunigami’s belly. “You like ChiChi watching you!”

“Ah!” Kunigami yelped as he hit the mat again, catching himself on his elbows so he didn’t break Bachira’s fingers. “Stahahhap! Stop thahahhahat! Bahahhachiraahhahaha!”

“Admit it first! You like Chigiri! Say it! Say it!” Bachira cooed at him, hanging on as the other tried twisting this way and out of his grip. “Say it or I won’t stop tickling you!”

“Ahehahha! Fihiihihne! Pfft- Geahhaha! Fihiihihine, you wihiihhiihn!” Kunigami cried, tapping the mat repeatedly. “I like hiihihim, now stahhahap!”

Bachira did as promised, pulling his hands back and standing. “Knew it. Don’t wait too long to tell him now. He just might like you back.”

“Like who back?” As if the devil himself had been called. Bachira grinned at Chigiri’s confused expression, winking at Kunigami as he made his way towards the door.

~~~

“Want some?”

“No way.”

“Come on!” Igarashi groaned, bowing his head in plea as he presented his pickled radish. “One trade? I won’t ask again!”

“Dude, no way! Pickled Radish makes my breath stink. How the hell am I to pick up girls like that?” Yudai shook his head, leaning away from the dish. “Besides- it’s not like I’ve got anything better.” On his own tray were two soft boiled eggs. “I’m starting to hate eggs…”

“It’s not like we’re going to be meeting any girls while we’re here! Plus it taste’s alright!” Igarashi gave him his best big eyes. “I haven’t had soft boiled eggs on rice in so long! I’m craving them!”

“Move up in rank and you’ll have them then.” Yudai rolled his eyes, breaking a yolk over his rice. His stomach turned at the sight. “Nevermind. Here.” He traded.

“Yes! Thank you so much, Yudai! I’ll never forget you after you eventually lose!” Igarashi cheered, taking his eggy rice.

“What the hell does that even mean?” He rolled his eyes before taking the radish. Well- at least it was new.

“Hey guys!” Bachira bounced over, leaning in so he was between them. “Whatcha doing?”

“Making ourselves like this stuff.” Yudai poked at his tray, nose twitching as Igarashi devoured his rice. “Hey, do you like pickled Radish?”

“Mm..nah.” Bachira shook his head. “But you know what I do like?”

“What?” Yudai raised a brow, Igarashi putting down his bowl in equal curiosity.

No warning was given. Bachira simply put his arms around both their waists and attacked.

“AH! Ahehahahahhahaha, nohohohohoho come ohohohohn mahahhahahan!” Yudai cried out, nearly drowned out by Igagauri’s own wails of mirth.

“Gheahhahahahahahha! Nohohoohooho! Dohoohohohohn’t I’m tihiihihhicklish!”

“Are you now? Man, you two are so quiet- I nearly forgot you were here!” Bachira cooed sweetly, moving his hands to their bellies and earning even more squeals and laughs. “I need to do this more often, he he he~”

He pulled away, not before reaching out and stealing an egg. Smiling at the taste, he turned to his own tray, placing his plate of abandoned udon between them. “Thanks boys!”

Igarashi’s complaints about the egg were quickly forgotten as he and Yudai thanked him relentlessly, spitting the dish. Bachria grinned as he headed out.

Only one more person to go.

~~~ “So what do you wanna work on?” Isagi asked as they walked out to the field, stretching his arms. “Speed? Dribbling? Scoring?”

“Actually- I wanna work on something new.” Bachira walked up, an easy grin on his lips. The lack of a soccer ball should have been Isagi’s warning. “I wanna work on blocking.”

“Blocking? Alright.” Isagi shrugged, figuring they really didn’t need one then. “Like, blocking an approach or pushing past one?”

Bachira didn’t respond, only continued to smile. Isagi felt himself twitch, suddenly unsure of himself. “Erm..Bachira?”

“Hey, Isagi.”

“...Yeah?”

There was a flash, and suddenly the world was upside down. Isagi smelled the grass before he hit it, barely registering the feeling before he was dragged under again with waves of ticklishness.

“Ah! Aheahhahahahhahaha! Whahahahhait, whahahahhahait- Bahhhahachira!” Isagi cried, kicking his feet and twisting about as Bachira’s fingers flew against his ribs, focusing towards the center as he slowly began his descent towards his lower set. “Whahhahahaht the heheheheheehell?”

“I saved you for last, Isagi-chan~ I wanted to hear you laugh the most today!” Bachira cooed sweetly at him, going right for that awful spot on the lowest rib. Isagi arched with a shriek, laughter blossoming out of his lips as his squirms increased. “I wanna hear you squeal like a pig!”

“BAHAHHAHAHCHIRA, STAHHAHAHAHAHAP!” Isagi wailed, cheeks on fire and eyes wet with mirth. He pushed with his heels, trying in vain to get away. His hands circled Bachria’s wrists, gently tugging. “OHOOOHKAY STAHHAHAHP!”

Giggling, Bachira pulled back, resting his hands gently against Isagi’s belly as the other gasped for air, smiling warmly at him. “Hehe, you’re adorable, Isagi-chan.”

“Heh…hehehe…” Isagi rolled his eyes, moving his own hands up from Bachria’s wrists to his hands, holding them within his own. “Tehehhell me…dihiihd you actually wahahhant to train?”

“Nope!” Bachira popped the “P”, grinning. “But since we’re here, we can do something else~”

Isagi raised a brow, sitting up. “And that is…?”

Bachira’s lips silenced any questions he had as they pressed gently into his own. Not that he was complaining.

~~~

The day was long but rewarding, and Bachira giggled himself silly as he tugged on his sweats, fresh out of the shower. The entire time, he kept replaying the highlights in his head, his lips still tingling from Isagi’s kiss. The perfect ending to a fairly mischievous day.

And yet…he couldn’t shake the feeling something was missing. The smallest detail to make the day even greater than it was.

As he walked into the main room, watching the boys set up for bed, it hit him.

Quite literally.

“Grab him!” Raichi called, and Bachira turned on his heels, running for the door. Just a few more steps- “Nope! Chigiri was before him, his speed proving useful beyond the soccer field. A second of hesitation proved all that the other’s needed; Bachria squeaked when arms came around his waist, hiking him up and off the floor.

“Sorry, Bachira- but not really.” Gagamaru sounded deeply amused as he unceremoniously dropped him into a pile of futons. “You brought this on yourself.”

Bachira went to mock-argue, but all that came out were giggles of anticipation as the rest of the team came around him, Kunigami’s hands gathering his wrists in a gentle but firm hold as Isagi took his rightful seat across his lap. At least his back was protected. For now.

“Ready?” Isagi asked, raising his hands with wiggling fingers. On each side of him, Raichi cracked his knuckles while Chigiri giggled softly in his hands. Behind them, someone grabbed his ankle-possible Kuon, maybe Iemon? It really didn’t matter in a minute.

“Ahehehe- hohohold on! Wahhahait, wahhahit.” Bachira giggled out, willing his heart to slow. It didn’t- the pause only made his anticipation worse. “Neehhehevermind, just doohohoho it!”

“Eager, aren’t we?” Kunigami teased as they looked to Isagi to make the call. With an unfairly long pause, Isagi smirked.

“Get’em!” He shouted, and Bachira burst into howls of mirth as multiple hands attacked at once. Isagi took the lead going right for the ribs while Rachi drilled into his hips. Chigiri- oh that devil- he slipped his hands beneath him so he could claw at his back! His legs weren’t any better- someone’s hand danced along his sole while the other squeezed his knee and calf like they were playing guitar. Kunigami, much to his credit, didn’t attack- instead opting to keep Bachria’s arms up and out of the way. That, however, didn’t stop Naruhaya from slipping under his arm so he could give his neck and ears a few playful scribbles.

“GHEHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! WAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA!”

Teases and jeers were thrown at him, but he could barely think beyond just how ticklish it all was. He didn’t know if he was pleading for mercy or simply laughing- everything was a bit of a blur. Had it been a minute or ten? Was he still in this universe or had he transcended into a new one?

“Okay- STOP!” Isagi called, and instantly the hands retracted. Noise returned- he could hear the others laughing around him, cooing at him sweetly or jeering about how he had it coming. In the corner of his eye, he could see Kunigami gently prod at Chigiri earning a swat and a halfhearted glare.

It was all nice, but nothing beat seeing Isagi above him, blue eyes like the sky he so rarely saw since coming to Blue Lock. A smile played on his face as he reached out, cool fingers gently brushing sweaty bangs off his face. A pair of even softer lips followed, pressing gently along his brow before he climbed off, mumbling something about getting the dribbler some water.

“Best day EVER!” Igarashi cheered, earning a chorus of both “Hell Yeah!”s and “Shut the hell up!”s. Bachira giggled breathlessly as he curled beneath the futon he laid upon, watching the rest of them find their own. He felt light and dizzy and giggly and warm. So comfortably warm, like he was lying in his favorite spot at his Mom’s art studio. Isagi reappeared, water in hand, crawling beneath the blankets and pulling the smaller boy close.

“You okay?” Isagi asked in his hair, his hand brushing his back in a soothing gesture. “We didn’t go too far, did we?”

Too tired to talk, Bachira shook his head, feeling Isagi relax against him. His mind was halfway to dreamland, the rest of Team Z fading away until he could only hear Isagi’s heartbeat. “Thanks for making my day better, Yoiichi.”

Maybe he said it out loud. Maybe he dreamed about it. Bachira would never know. All he remembered was the sound of Isagi’s heart racing faster, the arms around him tightening some with such care.

He dreamed of endless blue skies that night.

Thanks for reading!

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mindful-of-ideas · 11 months

Text

Headcanon: Peaky Blinders

-Being the second youngest Shelby and being really close to John and Esme (fem!reader)

A/N: requested by anon right here, thanks again! Sorry for being a little late, I hope you like it.

As a kid, John always tried to shelter you. All of your brothers did, maybe trying to protect your innocence for just a bit longer, but John was the one who was trying the hardest. Arthur just didn’t know how and Tommy, as much as he wanted to shelter you, needed to make sure the rest of the world wouldn’t eat you right up.

Not having a mother was really hard. Sure, you had Polly and Ada, but it never felt like having a real mom.

Still, your childhood was filled with beautiful memories. You remember the boys taking you and Finn out whenever they could. You would go to the beach or just run in a field of flowers. Every day out of Birmingham was like a blessing to you. You couldn’t stand its ashy damp streets and its misery that seemed to seep out of every crack in the walls. John was always there to make sure you wouldn’t forget those beaches and fields.

“Y/N!” John called out coming up to you and Finn sitting on the ledge of the bridge, throwing rocks in the water. “What?” you asked, trying to slick back your hair that was getting frizzy from the humidity. “Look what I got for you,” he said pulling out the prettiest seashell out of his pocket. “Wow! It’s for me?” “Of course!” he said stuffing it in your hands and ruffling your hair.

Seeing you happy was enough to make him smile.

Then John got married and had children, and already you could feel the two of you drifting apart. You hated that. You hated it because you were jealous of his kids. You, you were his kid for so long and now you could see how easily you could be replaced. You hated it because those kids had a mom, which you could never have. But mostly, you hated it because you felt so bad about being jealous that you were the one who decided to put some distance between you and John. But it didn’t last very long.

“Y/N? Come here!” John said, hearing you walk in the house, “Come here I said!” he said grabbing your wrist and pulling you towards him, “Come sit with me for a second, will you? We barely talk anymore, what’s going on?” He pulled you onto his lap “I don’t know…” you said, “Why would you even want to talk to me anymore…” you mumbled. “What was that?” “Nothing…” “Y/N?” he said putting his hand on your head and pulling you close to his chest. “You’ve got your own kids now, why would you spend your time caring for me?” “I will never stop caring about you, Y/N. You’re.. you’re like my own kid, okay? Don’t ever forget that.”

After that, you stop being afraid to hang out at John’s place and you grow quite close to Martha too.

But that all stopped when the war started.

You got really scared when John was sent away to fight. It felt like the world had decided to rip away the only beautiful thing in your life. You were scared that everything was going to go dark while he was away. And what if he never came back…

While John was away, you were always around to help Martha. You helped her with the groceries, watched over the kids or even cooked. She was really nice to you too. She would brush your hair, braid it, let you try on makeup, and dance with you in the kitchen.

But John came back and she was the one who ended up leaving you. It was really hard on you. You stayed locked in your room for days, barely coming out to eat. John would sit in front of your door trying to coax you out. You could hear him cry sometimes. And you cried too. Because you missed Martha. Because you wanted to be there for the kids. Because you were supposed to be the one making John smile.

You got out of your room, slowly sitting down on the floor by John’s side. You weren’t crying anymore, but couldn’t really bring yourself to smile. You rested your head on his shoulder. “Do you remember her favourite song?” you asked quietly. “Of course I do,” he said,” she will dance to it all the time. You did too.” “So did you,” you added. “Maybe we could put it on… and dance…” “I think I would like that…”

At first, you were completely against John marrying Esme. Why would he marry someone he doesn’t even know! And why replace Martha! You understand it, of course, from a business and strategic point of view, but that’s all.

It doesn’t take long for you to notice how happy John is with her. So as much as you want to hate her, you can’t bring yourself to do so. When John finally presents you to her, you can’t hide how happy you are.

“Y/N, this is Esme, my wife,” John said proudly. “Hi,” you said, waving your hand shyly. “So you’re the famous Y/N,” Esme said, crouching to be on your level. “Famous?” you asked curious. “Yeah, famous,” she said pushing back a strand of hair behind our ear, “John can’t shut up about you, acting like a proud dad and stuff.”

And that was enough to make you fall in love with her. After everything, the war, Martha’s death, you felt like you were going back to your old self. You were happier than ever, always smiling and ready to help out.

Esme was really grateful for you too. John’s kids were still young, and seeing you close to Esme, trusting her, made them feel more comfortable around her. Very much like Martha, she took care of you, but unlike her, she wasn’t trying to keep you in the house. She would push you to go out and explore the world on your own.

You could tell something was wrong when her cocaine addiction was getting out of hand. You tried your best to be kind to her but she always seemed down and moody.

“Esme,” you said unsure. “What is it, sweetie?” “You… you… you look like you’re not feeling well,” you finally said. “I’m okay,” she mumbled, “don’t worry about me.” “But I can’t help it!” “Come here,” she said, quickly wiping and tear from her face, “Come on, smile for me, you’re our ray of sunshine aren’t you?” “Yeah…” you said smiling weakly, “But Esme, I really am worried…” “Shhh, let me do your hair for you,” she said spinning you around, “That will put a smile on your face, right?

Moving to the countryside estate is probably the best thing to ever happen to you. Esme was the one to invite you, saying that this could be your first step to getting out of Birmingham. It feels like living in a childhood memory. You would enjoy long walks in the field with the dog, drinking tea on the terrasse and watching the sunset over the trees. You were older now, of course, but you would still fall asleep to John telling stories to his kids.

It all gets destroyed, torn apart, when John is killed. A big red stain is spreading across your perfect life. You can’t stay there anymore, it makes you feel sick. You try going back home, spending time with Finn, then going to Ada’s, but nothing seems to be working. You start to spiral down

If people doubted you were a Shelby, they believe it now. You’ve been up to all sorts of troubles, petty crime, drinking, and fights, but nothing could fill the hole in your chest. Ultimately, you wound up getting a bunch of guys really pissed off. Something about you being a prude or something. You were so drunk by then that you could barely remember what they said. You could however remember how scared you were when they cornered you in an alley near the Garisson. You could remember how badly you wanted John to just show up and get you out of there.

It was Esme you showed up. She had been looking for you ever since you left the countryside estate. She brings you back home and tends to your wounds, making you feel at home once again.

“I didn’t mean to cause that much trouble,” you said. Esme was finishing up the bandage on your arm. “It’s alright Y/N,” she said,” don’t worry about it.” There was a long silence before any of you spoke again. “Why are you doing all this?” you finally asked. “Cause I care about you,” she said, picking up a hairbrush and sitting behind you. She was taking her time, slowly detangling the knots in your hair. “But…” you started, not knowing what to argue. “Cause you’re like my kid,” Esme said, cutting you, “And I’ll be there for you no matter what!” You turned around, suddenly hugging her. “I love you,” you whispered in her ear. “I love you too,” she whispered back hugging you tighter.

#mindful-of-ideas #peaky blinders headcanon #peaky blinders #john shelby headcanon #john shelby #esme shelby headcanon #esme shleby #requested #shelby!reader #shelby!sister

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slvshlvr · 5 months

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𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐃

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : 𝐚𝐱𝐥 𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐇𝐢𝐢 𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐱𝐥 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩!

𝐓𝐖 : 𝐜𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐬

𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐞

You were working late tonight due to working as a model and having a big photo shoot. Axl was your boyfriend who you didn’t live with but was planning to move it with along with your 5 year old daughter Aurora of course. Her father wasn’t in her life anymore so you were a single mom and sometimes you had to get some help with taking care of her since it’s a hard job.

𝐀𝐗𝐋’𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐕 :

Y/n who was my girlfriend had asked me to pick aurora her daughter up from school today. I felt a little nervous since I had to babysit her and I had never really babysat anyone before but I was happy you trusted me. I stood outside the school waiting for her while smoking a cigarette looking around until she runs out. She waves at me while running towards me hugging my leg. She wore a pink hello kitty backpack and a pink princess dress with her blonde hair in a braid. I smiled patting her head.

𝐀𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐫𝐚: “Heyy axl, mommy told me you would pick me up”

He smiles picking her up and stomping on his cigarette while putting her in her car seat

𝐀𝐱𝐥: yeah mommy is working late tonight

𝐀𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐫𝐚: can we go to the park?

I look down at her thinking a little while fixing her seat belt and getting into my seat starting the car.

𝐀𝐱𝐥: hm. Sure we can do that

He smiles and starts to drive towards the park y/n and aurora always were at. He looked at the mirror a couple times to make sure she’s okay while parking the car. Helping her out while she runs towards the park. He runs after her breathing heavily and standing against a tree watching her play making sure she doesn’t hurt herself. He gets another cigarette lightening it and then taking a puff looking up at her playing. He looks around at the other parents giving him judgement and disgusted looks, like he cared tho?

After a while he walks up to her picking her up and ticking her

𝐀𝐱𝐥: you hungry?

𝐀𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐫𝐚: yeah

𝐀𝐱𝐥: come on then

He takes her hand and walks with her back to the car bucking her in and getting into the front seat driving back to y/n’s place. When they well get there he gets a little nervous cause now he will have to entertain her somehow. He walked inside with her going to the living room. He gets her toys and sits down watching her play with her Barbie dolls.

𝐀𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐫𝐚: come axl

He nods getting up and sitting down on the floor next to her playing with the Barbie’s with her. He also helped her build up a doll house you had bought her. He orders some pizza and plays with her until the door knocks.

He gets his wallet and walks up to the door opening it and getting the two boxes of pizza handing the delivery man some money before walking back to the living room.

𝐀𝐱𝐥: are you sure mommy lets you eat in here?

He says while cutting up a piece for her and putting it on a plastic plate picking her up and putting her on the couch.

𝐀𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐫𝐚: yes axlll

He looks at her before sighing and nodding handing her the plate watching her eat. He goes to the kitchen getting her a glass of juice and himself a beer. Walking back to the living room he helps her drink and sits down next to her eating some pizza himself while putting on her favorite cartoon.

Later after they finished eating they cleaned up the mess of Barbie’s and food they made.

He gave her a bath before putting her into a pjyamas and braiding her hair. He brushed her teeth as-well getting her all ready for bed. He walks down to the living room sitting down on the couch Aurora laying down in his lap as they keep watching the cartoon series.

After what felt like forever you came home walking in and throwing off your jacket and shoes walking into the living room and smiling calling out for us. Aurora immediately jumps up running over to you and hugging your leg while yelling “mommy!”

𝐘𝐨𝐮: Hey sweetheart

You pick her up and kisses her forehead before walking over to me giving me a peak on the lips and smiling

𝐘𝐨𝐮: did she behave good?

𝐀𝐱𝐥: yeah she was really nice

You smile and nod saying thank you and kissing me before walking upstairs getting her into bed. After that you walk back downstairs to me. I get you some left over pizza and we cuddle the rest of the night.

——————————————————————————

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐧’𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐲 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐡 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐢 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭 <𝟑

𝐋𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 ! <𝟑𝟑

#axl rose fanfic #axl gnr #axl rose #fluff #father #relationship #stepdad #guns n roses #glam rock #hard rock #beautiful model #barbie #city #fatherhood #80s aesthetic #90s aesthetic

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morganski-19 · 3 months

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I Don't Know Which Way's Home

Chapter 9: Fights

ao3 link, Part 1, Part 8

cw: grief

December 1984

Julie stares at the small journal in her hands. Carefully figuring out how to wrap it so it looks pretty like her mom’s. It’s not a perfect present either. Her mom always insisted that she didn’t need to get her anything for her birthday, it already being enough that Julie was here at all. But that felt cheap, wrong. Her mom provided so much for her, she didn’t even deserve the world if it could be given.

So, she did the only thing she could do, wrote a story. It’s been the same for the last few years, something quick and easy but meaningful. A picture of the two of them that she drew, was last years, and now a story to accompany it.

A story where the two of them were happy. Not that they weren’t now, just a different type of happy. In her story, they were living in a house, not a trailer. Three floors, each with its own secrets to unravel. Ghost stories come to life and pictures moving on their own. Journeys they two of them would undertake, just the two of them.

Because that’s how it always was. Julie and her mom, hand in hand and fighting through life together.

They didn’t need anyone else, didn’t want it half of the time. Every time a new person came into their life, it ruined it just a bit. Always disrupted the peace that Julie and her mom had made. And while it could be lonely sometimes, just the two of them, she wouldn’t change it one bit.

So, it felt wrong not to get her something on her birthday. Which was today and Julie can’t even figure out how to wrap it properly. Giving up, she just does it. Folds the paper and tapes it down. The corners are a bit wrinkled, and the paper is sideways, but it’s wrapped.

When she gives it to her mom over breakfast, it’s taken with a smile. The bad wrapping ignored for what’s inside. The hug her mother gives her with a thank you makes up for everything. It didn’t matter that the present wasn’t anything special, it was special to her mom, and to her. That’s all it needed to be.

. . .

Present Day, December 1986

“The place looks the same as when I came here before,” Sarah concludes, writing something in her folder. “Except for the new decorations in Julie’s room, of course.”

Steve stands next to Julie, patiently waiting for the inspection to be over. Even though it went fine, he made sure nothing incriminating was in the house, it still made him nervous. Sarah seemed to be on his side of this, but he was still unsure.

Julie leans against the railing, picking at the skin around her nails. It’s gotten worse in the past few days, bandaids starting to wrap around her thumbs these days. Her hair pulled back in loose braids to hide the fact that it isn’t washed.

There’s this feeling that something is up, and not like it has been before. That something, significant, is coming up. A date that she is now spending without her mom. And he wants to talk about it, but she keeps shutting him out before he can even try. He just doesn’t know what to do.

“I just have some questions to ask the two of you, and then I’ll be on my way. Steve, how about you first.”

Steve nods and leads Sarah to the kitchen table, sitting across from her. She opens a different folder from the one she used in the inspection, glancing at what is inside before looking up at him.

“I had a few more questions about you before I get to discussing the adjustment. You said that you started taking care of the financial aspects of the house since you were sixteen?”

“Yeah,” he nods. “That’s right.”

“Was that the first time your parents left you alone when they went on one of their trips?”

The urge to lie is strong. Just say that it was and get it over with, no one had to know the true extent of what his parents did. But she’s looking at him with the same concern she’d give Julie. That she’s looking out for him as well as her. And for the first time in his life, he feels the need to tell another adult the truth.

“Uh, no. They’ve been going on long trips since I was eight. Never as long as it was when I turned sixteen, but not that short either.”

A sourness turns in Sarah’s eyes with a slight twitch. He tenses, thinking it is geared toward him. But as she scribbles something in a file with his name, he can’t help but think it’s the same anger he’s been feeling for years.

“When you were eight, who was watching you?”

“Nannies mostly.”

“How many years did they hire nannies.”

Steve scratches at the back of his neck, trying to think. “Until I was twelve, thirteen maybe. At least the overnight ones, day to day ones stayed for another two or so years before there was none at all.”

A deep sigh escapes from her mouth as she continues to write. “How long were their trips then? Shorten than now.”

“Yeah. They were a month or two back then, getting longer as I got older. But when I turned sixteen, that’s when the longest one was.”

“And how long was that one?”

“Two years,” he says, for the first time letting it sink in how long it really was.

He knew that it was wrong that they left him alone, that much was obvious. When he was little, he used to cry and wish that they would come home. That they would want him. The hurt turned into anger with age, and now is just a distant memory.

The anger’s still there but trapped behind a veil of other people had it worse. At least he had a roof over his head and a never-ending cash flow to keep himself fed. A job that he went to every day and a car that he didn’t have to pay for. It was just how it was, and there was nothing Steve could do to change that.

But he’ll watch the Byers’, the Henderson’s, the Sinclair’s, and the Wheeler’s, Robin’s parents and Eddie’s uncle. All people who are there, for the most part, that want their kids. It’s hard to ignore the sting in his chest when he goes over for holiday dinners without his parents. Watching the other kids be loved by the people who created them. But it was fine because he made his own family with them. He had family because of them.

It was enough, until it wasn’t. Enough until his father called to berate him, and all that was left was the question of what he could do to earn his father’s love. His father’s respect, admiration. The answer was always nothing, and it was a simple fact that Steve accepted long ago.

“So, I’m going to hand you something, and it’s up to you to decide what you want to do with it, ok.” Sarah closes the folder she was writing in and slides it across the table.

“Ok,” he takes the folder and opens it. Inside is a list of evidence, with notes of how to gather materials to prove it, as well as a pamphlet on how to sue your parents for neglect, and the business card of a lawyer. “What is this?”

“Things I’ve started to write down since our last talk. It’s clear, from the way you talk about them, that they have neglected you. Which is why I asked you more questions about it today and given you this folder. If you would like to, you can sue them for neglect and, if there’s a paper trail of what you’ve said, probably win.”

Thoughts cloud his mind, making it impossible to fully grasp at what she’s saying. Sue his parents, clear neglect. Ruin the little relationship he has with his parents, for what, money. Proving in front of a court the exact type of people they were. Ruin their reputation among the public, and his among their friends because he stood up. Does he really want that?

“Of course, you don’t have to do it, not if you’re not comfortable with it. But, if you were to ever want reparations for the way they treated you, the evidence is there. And it’s damning.”

Steve opens his mouth a few times, but the words don’t come out. “I-I’ll think about it,” is all he can figure out what to say. Not a yes, but also not a no.

“Ok, let’s move on to something else, alright.”

“Ok.”

. . .

Julie is sitting at her lunch table, half falling asleep over her uncompleted math homework. She couldn’t get it done after the check in yesterday. Stress about what was going to come of it, that she might be moved again, had filled most of her day yesterday. Then she was too empty to think of doing anything other than lying in her bed. So, no homework got done.

Not like that was an uncommon occurrence these days. Homework seemed so trivial to the rest of her life. Moving houses, adjusting to new places. Grieving. All of it’s too much already, she doesn’t need to have homework piled on top of it.

Last night was bad, worst than normal. Which is to be expected of this week, but it still hurt. All the questions Sarah asked her to make sure she was adjusting, that she liked it there.

“Do you like it here, Julie?” she asked across the kitchen table.

“Yes,” Julie answered because it was the truth. But only half of it. “I do.”

Sarah had seemed satisfied with her answers, ending the meeting with a promise to be there if she should ever need it. If she would need to move again. Julie didn’t want to move again, she did really like it at Steve’s. There was just something missing, and that was the sad fact of Julie’s existence.

The worst part of it all is that his house started to feel like hers too. Her room was actually her room, with it’s painted walls and posters found at the thrift store. Clothes in the overflowing laundry bin, schoolwork scattered across all the surfaces. It’s her dishes in the sink and her tv program on pause in the living room.

Julie was finally starting to feel at home. Which was the problem.

“Can I ask you a question,” Max asks, breaking Julie out of her thoughts. “You totally don’t have to answer it, and I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t. But I’ve been thinking about it and Steve mentioned that you two are living together now, and I just. Are you ok? Like really ok?”

“I’m fine,” Julie responds coldly, packing up her math homework.

“Yeah, no, I get that. It’s just, when Billy died, I was really going through it, and I didn’t really want to talk about it that much. But it helps, to talk about it, sometimes. And I’m here for you, we’re here for you, me and Jane. We’ve both dealt with this kind of stuff, so if you wanted to talk about it, you could. With us, I mean.”

They’re looking at her like they understand, and they might. But this isn’t the run of the mill thing here. Loosing a brother sucks, Julie’s sure, but she knows they weren’t as close as losing her mom. And Jane, well she didn’t know a lot about Jane so she can’t really speak on that.

This pain was hers and hers alone, and no one can really know what she’s going through. Not the counselors pulling her out of classes to talk to her, not her teachers asking to talk to her after class. Not even then, her only friends she’s had in a long time.

“I told you, I’m fine,” she spits.

She tries not to feel angry when people ask about it. Tries not to feel angry when they try to connect with her. Show that they care. Because she should be grateful that people still care about her. That there are other people who give a shit other than her mom. And a part of her is, but the rest of her stings with the knowledge that they’re only here because her mom is gone.

Max readjusts herself, pressing her lips together. “I get it, I do. Just know that we’re here.”

“Steve was just worried about you,” Jane adds, innocently.

“Jane,” Max exclaims, “We weren’t supposed to tell her that part.”

The only reason she ever met Steve in the first place was because she really had nothing else. And while she was always going to tell him about her existence, of his father’s affair, she’s not so sure she would have done it in the way she did. Meeting him was the last lifeline she had after everything, so she had to take it. It worked out, and she’s grateful.

And now he’s there and he cares, and it should be great, but it hurts. Every time he gives her the look of “I care about you, just know that I’m here” her heart burns because it will never be the same. He’s opened his home to her, worked to take her in, changed his life to accommodate her. She wouldn’t change it, wouldn’t take it all back. It’s nice to have somebody. But he’s not her mom and never will be.

Every time he does something remotely close to what her mom did, she gets a burst of rage. It shows her exactly what she has lost, and what it has meant for her, and she hates it.

“I’ll see you guys later,” Julie says while slinging her bag over her shoulder. She takes her full lunch bag and dumps it into the trash on her way out of the lunchroom, heading straight to the bathroom.

Slamming the door behind her, she heads for an empty stall. She sits on the toilet, pulling the long chain of her locket from underneath her shirt. Opening it to find what’s always been there, a picture of her and her mom. Small and cut off weird, but it didn’t matter.

Tears stream down her face as quiet sobs rip through her chest. She grips the small charm close to her heart and stares at the ceiling.

“Why?” she whispers in the empty bathroom. “Just why?”

. . .

The phone rings on Steve’s nightstand, pulling him out of his sleep. He rolls over to reach the phone, dragging Eddie with him, arms gripped around Steve’s waist.

“Let it keep ringing,” Eddie mumbles into Steve’s shoulder. “Sleep.”

“Can’t, might be the school.” Steve swats Eddie away, finally able to sit up and reach the phone.

Eddie rolls onto his back in protest. “Right, you have responsibilities now. That’s not weird at all.”

“Shut up,” Steve says while picking up the phone. “Harrington residence.”

“Hi, is this Steve?” the woman on the line says.

“Yes, who is this?”

“I’m Mrs. Peters, Julie’s English teacher. You’re listed as her guardian, and I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Is she ok?” He’s half ready to jump out of bed and run out the door if he needs to. Well, after putting clothes on.

Mrs. Peters sighs through the line. “Truth is, I’m not sure. I’ve had Julie in class before, and she was such a good student. One of the brightest I had. Her essays were so thoughtful and her creative writing assignments, they were beautiful. It’s all changed this year. She’s barely turning assignments in, and half asleep most of the time. I know what happened with her mom earlier this year, such a tragedy. And it’s expected that students who go through such a loss will slip a little with grades. But she skipped my class today, so I wanted to give you a call. I’m worried about her.”

Steve leans back on his headboard with a sigh. “I am too. I’ve tried to talk to her about this, but it’s always shut down.”

“I’m sure it’s a hard topic for her to talk about it.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“That’s all I really called for, to see if she’s getting the support she needs at home. I remember you, had you a few years ago when I was teaching seniors. You were a good kid when you started trying, I know you’ll take good care of her.”

His heart warms with some sort of pride. “Thank you, that means a lot. I’m really trying here.”

“I’m sure she knows that. I hope things go better for you, and you’ll be able to talk to her about this. Thank you for stepping up and taking her in.”

“Wasn’t that hard of a decision once I got to know her.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t. I’ll let you go. Good luck, Steve.”

“Thanks for calling bye.” He hangs up the phone, sliding back down under his covers.

Eddie rolls over to look at him. “The school.”

“Yeah,” Steve says while staring at the ceiling. “Remember Mrs. Peters, she’s Julie’s English teacher. Said she missed class today, hasn’t been turning work in.”

Eddie hums. “You’re worried about her.”

How can he not be? When all he sees is the empty shell of a person some days. And he knows that’s not what she’s normally like. Because she’s bright and funny on the better days. And so, so caring.

It was there more in the middle, not the beginning, and not now. But if the night they first met was day one, and this is now day whatever it is. Right in the middle, he could see her, without the sadness that looms in her eyes. Just last week he saw it too, when they were picking up stuff for her room and painting it all. She was there. But the sadness came back again.

“It’s not like I’m expecting her to magically get better, for her grief to go away. I just,” he takes a deep breath. “I just want her to know that I’m here, that she can talk to me. Cause I might not know exactly what she’s going through, but I know enough about it. And even if I didn’t, I’m here to listen.”

He rolls on his side to face Eddie. Eddie takes his hand, encouraging him to continue.

“I just keep getting caught up in this loop of saying I want to help her. To let her know that I’m here. So she doesn’t have to go through this alone. But I never know how to say it, or show it, so I just don’t. And the days keep going on, and she’s still isolating herself. I don’t know what to do.”

“It’s hard, I know,” Eddie comforts. “And, as someone who lost a parent kinda like she did, it sucks, a lot. You think the world has ended and you’re left all alone. You’re angry, and sad, and so many emotions you just can’t name. But can I tell you something that you’re doing right?”

Steve shifts closer to Eddie. “What.”

“You’re showing her that you care. You take her out and change her room, despite the fears that you have. You ask her about her day, and make sure she has food to eat. You make her feel safe, Steve. That is more than any kid can ask for during this time. And while you’re still going to feel like you’re not doing enough. You’re doing the best that you can. If you want to ask her about her mom, you can, it just might not be met with the reaction you want it to.”

He lets out a long breath. “I think that’s why it’s taken me so long to say something. It’s already so weird knowing that we’re related. And knowing that the only reason I know that is because her mom died. It feels weird.”

Eddie presses a kiss to the back of Steve’s hand. “How are you doing with all of this? We haven’t really talked about it since when it first happened.”

Better, Steve thinks. He’s doing better. Even though he now wakes up in his painted room and almost goes into a panic attack. Even though he goes to a job he knows his dad hates. And now provides a home to the kid his dad never wanted.

It’s been hard accepting that he’s officially throwing away the role his parents expected him to play. That he’s finally breaking the last bit of relationship he has between them. He’s finally willing to leave. To have the life he wants, not what they want.

They want the wife and the kids with the picket fences and a good paying job. A respected, get a degree first kind of job. Where the anxieties and the nightmares never happen, and the trauma doesn’t exist. Where Steve’s hearing is normal, and his brain isn’t damaged. Where the scars aren’t there, and he won’t flinch every time the light flickers.

And while some of those things he still wants in his life. The kids, the house, a good paying job. Some aspects of his life are irreversible, unchanging. He didn’t ask for them, but that doesn’t mean they never happened. It’s a part of his life that they will never accept, or even know about.

“As good as I can be. I think a part of me will always hate him, for what he did. To me, and to Julie. And I’m tired of thinking that there will be a day where I’m not a disappointment to him. Especially when there are some parts of my life that I know would get me kicked out of the house. Out of his life. But” he takes a breath, “I don’t want to have a dad if that means I can’t be who I am.”

Eddie smiles, soft with a bit of pain. “It hurts to hear you say that, because I want you to have a family that will love you for all the amazing things that you are. But I am so proud of you for getting to a place where you can say that. I know it was hard.”

“It was,” Steve says, tears gathering in his eyes.

“C’mere,” Eddie pulls him into a hug, holding Steve close as everything lets go.

It was a lot of work getting to the place he is. Time and effort and tears. Years of built up, years of pain. But as the world came crumbling around him, he found more happiness in other people than he has in his entire life. Friends he never would have associated with, a family he never thought he would have.

And here in the bed his father paid for is a man that Steve likes, might even be starting to love. It’s the biggest fuck you he could have ever sent his father’s way. Because in Eddie’s arms, everything starts to fit into place. Everything finally made sense. He is finally, truly, himself.

Steve built himself a home. With Eddie, with Robin, with the kids, with Julie. He had his family, and nothing was going to take that from him now.

. . .

Julie just wants to go home. Wants to crawl into her bed and pray for sleep to come so this awful day can be over. Screw the test she has tomorrow, it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters anymore. Not today, and not tomorrow. The sadness will keep coming back, no matter how hard she tries.

She’s just so tired of it being like this. Of having good days where it hurts a bit less, where she can smile and actually mean it. But then waking up the next day and feeling like everything is terrible and never going to get better. Where she can have good days like last weekend, just followed with terrible days like today.

And she knew this day was coming, and knew it was going to be hard. She knew that the day before, and the day after, hell the whole week would be rough. That the grief was going to hit its highest peak since that first week. But it was worse than she could have ever thought.

Steve has off from work today, which means when Julie walks out of the high school doors, his car is in its usual spot next to Eddie’s van. She’ll have to make conversation on the drive back, before being able to escape to her room.

It’s just twenty minutes, she tells herself. Twenty more minutes of an impossible day, before she can stop pretending.

“Hey,” Steve says when she walks up to his car.

She mumbles a small hello before shuffling into the passenger seat, shutting the door with a thud behind her. Steve says a goodbye to Eddie before climbing into the driver’s seat. Pulling out of the parking lot without a word.

“How was school?” he prompts, fishing for something. Like he knows.

Julie hates that. It’s just another thing that pangs in her chest. Something her mom would do countless times when she knew something was bothering Julie. Only another reminder that she isn’t here today. That Julie’s living with someone else.

Leaning her head against the window, watching the trees fly by as they drive, she tries to stay calm. Tries to find a normal way to respond so he’ll just stop.

“Like it always is,” she whispers, just audible enough that he’ll hear it, but quite enough so he knows she doesn’t want to talk about it.

He must understand because it’s the last thing he tries to talk about in the car. She just wraps her coat tighter around her, closing herself up as much as possible. Trying to convince her brain that just because she left the school, the tears aren’t allowed to break through again. She already cried in a bathroom today, she didn’t need to do it in his car either.

“Hey, could we talk for a minute?” Steve asks when they get home, stopping Julie from immediately locking herself away in her room.

She can’t help the eyeroll that comes, the visible slump in her shoulders as she turns to face him. Crossing her arms across her chest, coming off defensive to hide the range of emotions bubbling beneath the surface.

“What,” she says more bitter than she’d like to admit.

Steve flinches, not expecting the harshness in her voice. He takes a breath, trying to think of what to say, like it’s important. She can’t deal with another thing today.

“I got a call from one of your teachers today, Mrs. Peters. She said you missed class,” he says it with a level voice, face full of concern.

It does nothing but make her blood boil. He wasn’t supposed to know, wasn’t supposed to care. That wasn’t supposed to be his job. Steve was her brother, not her parent. Julie didn’t have one of those anymore. And the face he’s making is the one she would see all the time, practically lived on her mom’s face sometimes.

“So,” she rolls her eyes. Wishing he would just drop it.

It’s like the two images of them are morphing together in her mind. Her mom and Steve becoming one person. Like he’s replacing her, becoming the new person in her life to fill that role. He didn’t get to do that. She didn’t get to forget her mom. Even if she doesn’t live in the same house anymore, even if her life has changed. It was never supposed to.

“So. I’m worried about you. You’re missing class and skipping meals. You think I don’t notice when you go to school in the same clothes as the day before. I know that this all has to be a lot for you, believe me I know how life can just take everything and spit you out expecting you to recover like nothing happened. I know-.”

“You don’t know,” Julie bursts, tears starting to well up in her eyes. “You can’t possibly know what it’s like. It’s bad enough that you ask my friends to try to talk to me about it, at school even. You don’t get to say that you know what I’m going through.”

Steve takes a breath, looking up at the ceiling. “I didn’t ask them to talk to you about it.”

“But you mentioned it to them, isn’t that enough.” She’s yelling now. Anger that she knows is misplaced, hitting the only target it could find.

“And I’m not saying I know what you’re going through. I’m saying that I’ve been in a place like yours before and it sucks. It’s one of the worst things a person can go through.”

“I get that you had a sad childhood, and your parents were never around. But that doesn’t give you the right to compare your situation to mine.”

It’s a low blow and she knows it. An arrow perfectly aimed just to get him to shut up. To get him to hurt enough to leave her alone. Because she can be mad at him. He’s here to be mad at. Giving her every opportunity to.

Because she can’t be mad at her mom. Julie can’t be mad at her for leaving her alone. For leaving at all. How can she be mad at the dead for leaving. She can wish and pray and beg the universe for her mom to come back. Cry a river of tears caused by the unbelievable grief that it’s left her in. Be upset with all that’s happened to her. Wonder what went wrong that night to take it all away from her.

But angry. No, that wasn’t allowed. She’s not allowed to be angry at her mom, especially for this.

Her words hit their mark, making Steve stop for a second. For his eyes to glaze over just a bit before he blinks it away. She should be remorseful, should take back everything she said and get it over with. But for a small second, she thinks that this might be over. That she can just run away without saying another word and cry herself to sleep for the third night in a row.

But instead, he keeps talking.

“That’s not what I was talking about, but that doesn’t matter. The point of all of this, was to tell you that I’m here if you ever want to talk.” The levelness of his voice is gone, and all that is left is bitterness behind his words. Just like she wanted, but it still stings. For reasons that she can’t quite explain even if she wanted to. But she’s tired of talking, so she just explodes.

“Just stop ok,” she pleads through her raised voice. “You’re not my mom.”

Her chest heaves with her words, the arrow coming back and hitting her instead. Tears well up in her eyes as she grabs her bag, running up the stairs before he can say anything else. And she’s pretty sure he does, but she can’t hear it. Doesn’t care that she didn’t.

Instead, she slams her door and falls into her bed. Not her bed, actually. Because her bed is back in the trailer park with her mom in the other room. Now it’s empty with nothing but her mother’s ghost, and Julie’s not even there to try and say hello.

. . .

“I’m not trying to be,” Steve says as Julie’s running up the stairs. She slams her bedroom door, isolating herself and blocking him out.

It could have gone better. A lot better. It actually went to shit. He didn’t know how else to do it. And he should have just waited, he saw what she was like in the car. That far off distant look as she just gazed out the window and didn’t talk. Not like he would ever force her to, but he wanted her to.

There was a day a few weeks ago where he picked her up, and she was so talkative. Told him about this book that she was reading for a book report and how much she liked it. How she saw herself in the main character, and loved how the world was crafted. Went on a on about it for the whole ride, and even past that. It was great, it was her.

That day, he saw past the grief that’s been encapsulating her. To the girl she was before the accident, before her mom passed. He just wanted to be able to see it more often sometimes.

It’s not like he was trying to speed run her grief, he never would. It just hurt to see her come home every day and shove all her feelings away just to keep a neutral face. To hide the fact that she was hurting from him. He didn’t have the right to see how she really felt, but he wanted to offer the key if she ever wanted to open the door.

So, he tried to, but look where that ended.

He runs a hand through his hair, keeping his hand and the back of his neck with a long exhale. Thoughts rushing through his head on how he can fix this. How he can apologize for pushing, and just take back everything that happened.

It’s an impossible task, he knows. Time, she just needs a little time to cool down. And Steve does too. The focus is on her, but he can’t ignore what she said either. Even if it wasn’t the worst this in the world, it was just enough to make him falter. To make him a little angry. Upset. He knew the technique well. Hurt someone else just because you’re hurting. Doesn’t make it right, but he knows.

Steve’s not angry at Julie, not for what she said. If anything, he’s just sad. Hurts for her and what she is going through. How even though he knows grief, he doesn’t know this. Losing a parent is something he never experienced, not like this. But he still wants to reach out.

He gives it an hour, lets her have her space. For her to cool down, and for him to as well. Let’s what happened settle in, so it’s not rushed.

Standing in front of Julie’s door, he knocks gently. She doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t hear music coming through the room, but that doesn’t mean she’s listening. He still talks anyway.

“Julie. I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring it up like that, and I didn’t mean to make you upset. I could have been gentler, could have said it differently. And probably could have waited for a better time. But I’ve been worried about you for a while now. And while you probably don’t want me to be, it’s true. You’re my sister, and while we haven’t known each other for a long time, I still care about you.”

He pauses, thinking about what to say, and how to say it. To tread lightly. Deciding it’s best just to take a step back, just a bit.

“I’m going to be honest, I have,” he takes a deep breath, “no idea what I’m doing. When you showed up at my door that night, I didn’t know what was going to happen past that. What I did know, is that I wanted to help you. I wanted to get to know the sister that I never knew, that I was never given the chance to know. And you let me, you let me give you a space in my house, you let me into your life. Sure, there were a lot of other factors in there that I’m sure influenced that decision, but I hope at least part of it was that you wanted to get to know me too.”

Steve rests his head on the door, willing himself to just find a point to this. “You’re right, I have no clue what you’re going through. The other things in my life that I’ve gone through, they might be similar, but they’re not the same. And I would never say that they are. But I’m here for you, whether you want me to or not. You’re the only blood related family I got, too. I’m not going away that easy. But I can never know how you’re feeling if you don’t let me in.”

He waits a minute, seeing if she would open the door. But the hall clock’s second hand the only sound filling the space, so he steps back and turns to walk away. Until the door lock clicks.

“What about your parents?” Julie asks, door open.

A sigh of relief escapes his lungs, He might have done something a little right.

“I was sixteen when they left for two years straight with barely a phone call from them every few months. The only time they came back was to reprimand me for not getting into college the day of my high school graduation. They didn’t even go to the ceremony. I might be related to them, but they’re no family.”

Julie stares at him with tears still painting her eyes. Hair falling out of her ponytail and sweatshirt sleeve cuffs still a little damp. “You were left alone, here, all by yourself at sixteen?”

“Yeah,” he nods. “I know a little what it’s like to be left behind at this age. Not the same, but not entirely different.”

She opens the door a little more, motioning with her head for him to come in. He walks into the room, sitting down next to her at the foot of the bed.

“I’m sorry for what I said. I didn’t really mean it.”

“Don’t worry about it. I know you didn’t. I’m sorry for pushing.”

Wiping a fresh tear off her cheek, she pulls something from underneath the bed and holds it in her lap. A small journal. “Don’t be. I think I needed you too, just a little bit.”

“Can I ask what that is?”

Julie presses her lips together, blinking away a lingering tear. She hands him the journal, letting him take it. He doesn’t look in it though, it doesn’t feel right.

“I pretty much have a journal a year, sometimes two.” She points to the tall stack of journals on her desk. “Every year since I was seven. I wrote stories in them, journal entries, and drew pictures with them. A few years ago, I got an empty journal to write a story in for my mom. And every year, I would ask for it back and write a new story in it. It was her birthday present every year.”

He looks at the journal in his hand, already knowing where this is going. “I’m sure she loved it.”

“She did,” Julie whispered. “I never got to finish the one for this year. After everything that happened, just couldn’t bring myself to look at it. Let alone finish it.’

“I’m sure she would understand, you’ve had a rough couple of months.”

“Yeah,” she lets out a shaky breath. Leaning her head back on the foot of the bed and looking up towards the ceiling. “Today’s her birthday,” she chokes out. “And I just feel so guilty for not finishing it.”

Steve doesn’t quite know what to do, but he’s trying. “Hey,” he places a hand on her shoulder. “It’s ok.”

“No, it’s not.” Tears start to roll down her cheeks faster than she can wipe away. “I’m just so sad that she’s gone, and then I get angry. I get angry at her for leaving, and at the accident for happening. Then I get upset for being angry because I know it wasn’t her fault. I can’t be mad at her for something that’s not her fault.”

“You still have a right to feel whatever you are about it all though. Be mad at the universe, not her. Be upset that she’s not here anymore, wish that she was here. All of those things.” He laughs in his head about the irony of what he’s saying, about what he’s going to say. How it took other people telling him to do the same thing for him to finally let himself feel. “Keeping it all bottled up, ignoring that they’re there and telling yourself that you shouldn’t feel this way. That’s not healthy, believe me.”

Julie looks at him, finally. Eyes puffy and cheeks stained with tears. “I miss her.”

“I know you do.”

The dam lets itself loose and Julie crumbles, leaning toward Steve as she breaks. He pulls her into a hug similar to the one that he gave Dustin months prior when they were waiting in hospital rooms. Holding her close to shield away the bad, as the emotions ignored to keep appearances finally break free. Letting her know that he’s safe, and he’s here.

That he’ll always be here.

Part 10

Tag list(let me know if you want to be added or removed): @homoerotictangerine, @mugloversonly, @thesuninyaface, @imyelenasexual, @anaibis, @ilovecupcakesandtea, @brainsteddielyrotted, @jackiemonroe5512, @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @cinnamon-mushroomabomination, @lolawonsstuff, @writingandmushroomdragons, @stevesbipanic, @sierra-violet, @steddie-as-they-go, @dauntlessdiva, @mousedetective, @the-daydreamer-in-the-corner, @zombiethingy, @connected-dots-st-reblogger, @that-agender-from-pluto, @allyricas, @cheddartreets, @devondespresso, @crypticcorvidinacottage, @queenie-ofthe-void @chronicpainstevetruther, @cheddartreets, @theupsidedownrealestateagent, @acidbubblegummie, @sirsnacksalot, @l0st-strawberry, @helpimstuckposting, @strawberry-starss, @freddykicksasses, @italianwhore1, @i-threw-my-name-out-the-window, @rageagainsttheapathy, @nuggies4life, @ape31, @whimsicalwitchm, @chrissycunninghamfanblog, @michellegilligan, @hippielittlemetalhead, @bridget-malfoy-stilinski-hale, @jaytriesstuff, @confused-stripes, @faeb1tch42069, @marklee-blackmore, @hel-spawn, @genderless-spoon, @mamafaithful, @estrellami-1, @starryeyedpoet17 @i-amthepizzaman, @lilpomelito @melonmochi

#stranger things #fanfic #stranger things fanfic #long lost/secret sibling #steve has a sibling #steve harrington #julie lawson #eddie munson #steddie #max mayfield #el hopper #angst #cw grief #tw grief #i don't know which ways home fic

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sunshinebingo · 11 months

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@gwynweekofficial Day 6 - Future

Follow Gwyn, Azriel and their twins on a Friday afternoon.

A/N: A while ago I posted A Morning at the Berdara Household and since it's Gwyn Week (and Gwynriel owns my heart) I thought why not do another 🤷. If you haven't read the first one, the twins are 3 years old. I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 1.7k

Read on Ao3

16.26 pm

Gwyn opens the door. But before she can even put one foot inside, two little kids run past her and enter the house first. ‘’Aren’t you forgetting something?’’ she asks her twins. And four little feet walk back towards the door again. Catrin and Eliot remove their dirty shoes and put them on the shoe rack next to the door before sprinting straight into the kitchen in their socks.

‘’Stop running,’’ Gwyn shouts.

Gwyn shakes her head when none of them listens. She wonders how they can have so much energy left after a long day at school. Well, the nap they have there a few hours after their lunch certainly helps. If only adults could have nap time at work as well.

Gwyn removes her own boots and follows her children in the kitchen. It is the same thing almost every day; Catrin and Eliot go to school from 9.00 am to 14.30 pm. After that, someone picks them up and takes them to Feyre’s painting studio where they spend more time with their friends. Then either their mom or dad picks them up at 16.00 pm. Today it was Gwyn’s turn since she only had training with the Valkyries. Today they have even walked in Velaris for a while before heading home.

‘’Mommy mommy look,’’ Catrin exclaims excitedly, waving the empty bowl that she has taken out of her bag at her mother. ‘’I ate all my sanwish.’’

‘’Good job sweetie.’’ Gwyn leans down to place a kiss on the little girl’s messy hair. The pigtail braids that she had on this morning are completely disheveled and she seems to have lost one of the bows that were in her hair. Knowing her, Catrin has either lost it while playing, or has given it to one of her friends.

Eli, who is struggling to get his water bottle out of his backpack, is in no better state than his sister. He has white paint in his red hair, and his blue shirt has traces of coloured pen in random places, even on his back. Gwyn sighs at the sight, knowing that it will be a struggle to get the stains out.

16.35 pm

After their lunch boxes are out of their bags and in the sink, the twins sit down at the kitchen table and wait for their afternoon snacks. ‘’What did you do at school today?’’ Gwyn asks as she pours milk in two glasses.

‘’I made a cloud like this,’’ Eli opens his hand as far they could reach to show how big the cloud was. That explains the white paint. Gwyn places their milk on the table before them along with some cookies.

‘’Cat hit Penny at school.’’

Gwyn’s butt freezes midway to her chair.

‘’HEEY,’’ Catrin pinches her brother, her face turning into a pout.

‘’Catrin, what did we say about hitting your friends?’’ her mother scolds.

‘’She is not my fwiend,’’ the pout on Catrin’s face is now a full on scowl.

‘’Catrin,’’ Gwyn scolds her again louder this time. Catrin’s wings droop behind her and she slides down a little on her chair, covering her face with her glass. Eli, not feeling concerned at all, just stuffs his face with cookies.

‘’I’m sowry,’’ Cat mumbles behind her glass.

Gwyn finally sits down with her own cup of tea and listens to the rest of her twins’ day at school.

17.05 pm

Gwyn only has the time to get out of her sweaty Illyrian leathers before the twins are banging at the door of her bedroom to ask her to play with them. She quickly slips into some comfy sweatpants and one her mate’s t-shirt and follows them to their room.

Once there, Eli sits on floor with his colouring book and Cat decides that her mom’s hair is more interesting than all of her toys. So Gwyn sits on the bed while her daughter stands behind her, pulling and tugging her long hair in every direction.

‘’Eli stop drawing on the floor,’’ Gwyn warns him.

17.30 pm

Gwyn and the twins have moved from the kids’ bedroom to the living room. Cat and Eli have decided to play hide and seek behind the furnitures, both screaming and giggling so loudly when they find the other that they could probably be heard from the House of Wind.

It is Friday which means family dinner at the River House. And since there is no need to prepare dinner for tonight, Gwyn lies down on the couch with a book while keeping an eye on her children.

‘’I win,’’ Eli laughs after he spots Catrin behind a curtain. It would not be as easy for Eli to win every time if Cat remembers to also hide her wings.

17.54 pm

‘’Daddy is back.’’

‘’Mommy look, it’s daddy.’’

Azriel hears the laughs of his twins even before he lands on their front lawn. And the screams of excitement start as soon as he does. Cat and Eli stand at the window with their faces glued to it, jumping up and down excitedly. Eager to see them too, Azriel quickly walks to the door. One second is all it takes before both of his kids throw themselves at him. Eli latches onto his leg and Catrin flaps her wings as much as she can to reach him. Azriel catches her midflight and Cat immediately buries her face in her father's shoulder.

When he walks into the living room, Azriel is greeted with the sight of his mate smiling brightly at him from the couch. Gwyn’s hair has plenty of messy little braids with butterfly clips and colourful bows. It seems that Cat is getting better at doing braids. With one kid clinging to his neck, the other to his leg, and both of them telling him so many things at the same time that he can’t clearly make out a single one, Azriel walks to his mate and bends down to kiss her.

18.00 pm

Azriel lies on the couch with his head on his mate’s lap and his twins sitting right on top of him, both playing with his hands. He snorts when he hears the story of Catrin’s incident at school. Gwyn stops running her hand through his hair and glares down at him, warning him not to laugh. Of course he finds this funny. But Gwyn is right. As always. This behavior should stop before the other parents start to complain. Not that many of them would dare to complain about the kids of a Shadowsinger and a Valkyrie.

18.20 pm

Azriel helps Eli picks his clothes for the evening while Gwyn takes care of Catrin in the bathroom. Tonight, he settles for a pair of black pants and a sweater.

When Gwyn comes into the room with Cat, Azriel and Eli leave the room for the girls to get ready. Azriel picks up his son and brings him to the bathroom where most of the time in the bathtub is spent scrubbing all the paint off of Eli’s hair.

‘’Eli don’t drink that,’’ Azriel says when the boy scoops the bath water into his mouth.

18.35 pm

Azriel leaves Eli with Gwyn when she finishes with Catrin’s hair. Getting him ready is much quicker than dealing with his sister. Cat has taken ages to decide how she wants to wear her hair before settling on a ponytail with a hair tie that matches her skirt.

18.50 pm

Once Eli is dressed and Azriel is ready, Gwyn leaves the twins with her mate and goes to her room to get ready. While Azriel spends some time alone with them, Gwyn takes the time to take care of herself. She wears fighting leathers and her hair in a braid almost every day because of training and missions. So tonight, she decides to spend some extra time on her appearance.

19.20 pm

‘’Mommy,’’ a little voice calls on the other side. Before she can answer, the door opens and Catrin walks in. When her daughter stops beside her, Gwyn picks her up and places her on her lap before the vanity.

‘’Mommy?’’

‘’Yes, love.’’

‘’Can I have some,’’ Cat asks, pointing at the lipstick on her mother’s lips. Gwyn smiles at the way her daughter looks at her with her big teal eyes that are so similar to hers. She leans down and presses her lips against Catrin’s in a loud smooch that makes the little girl giggle.

‘’Here,’’ Gwyn says, turning Cat towards the mirror. Her daughter gasps and her face breaks into the widest smile at the faint trace of colour on her lips.

19.30 pm

‘’No sweets before dinner baby.’’ Eli pouts when Azriel refuses to give him a candy. ‘’What is your mother doing?’’ he asks and his son shrugs like he doesn't care.

Before Azriel can call for his mate, she walks into the kitchen with Cat. ‘’I’m ready.’’ Azriel gapes at her for a moment. She wears a simple green dress but one that hugs her body to perfection. Combined with her long copper hair swiped over one shoulder and her light makeup, Gwyn looks exquisite. Azriel walks to her and kisses her on the cheek. ‘’You look beautiful.’’

Gwyn beams and blushes at the compliment. And that blush, even after years, still does things to him that he cannot mention in front of the kids. The surge of heat that suddenly flows through their bond makes Gwyn blush even harder. She tugs on the bond and Azriel smirks as he understands the promise behind.

‘’Daddy let’s go,’’ Eli complains, pulling on his father’s hand.

Azriel winks at his mate and follows Eli to the door.

19.32 pm

The door is closed, the ward is checked and everyone is ready to go.

‘’Ok let’s g-‘’

‘’Wait,’’ Gwyn interrupts. ‘’Did I lock the door properly?’’

Before Azriel can say anything, Gwyn is already placing Catrin in his other arm and rushing towards the door.

‘’QUICK MOMMY,’’ Cat shouts as if her mother was not just two steps before them.

Gwyn reaches the door, turns the knob and finds that it is properly locked. ‘’At least now I know,’’ she says as she returns to her mate and children.

‘’We can go.’’

Azriel sighs ‘’You sure?’’

‘’YES,’’ Eli says so loudly that Azriel winces at the assault on his ear. Eli stretches his arms towards Gwyn who then takes her son in her arms. Catrin wraps her arms tightly around her father’s neck once Eli is passed on to their mother. Then Azriel laces his fingers through Gwyn’s and winnows them all to the River House.

#gwynweek2023 #day 6: future #gwyneth berdara #azriel shadowsinger #gwynriel #Gwynriel babies #♥️♥️♥️

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emotionalcadaver · 1 year

Text

The Clockwork Laws

Chapter 1: Thieves

Fandom: In Time

Pairing: Raymond Leon x OC

Summary: Rose is trapped in an impossible situation from which she sees no possible escape.

Series: Part 1 of The Shackles of Broken Time

Word Count: 3,769

Notes: Warnings for abuse.

Main Masterlist • The Clockwork Laws

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One of the neon bulbs in the sign behind the bar was burnt out. Little bits of broken glass clinked against each other, scraping along the wooden floorboards as Rose swept them up into a dustpan. Yet another casualty of men too drunk to really be trusted with breakable objects. Her manager, Tansy, was wiping up behind the bar, cleaning glasses and stowing them away. Dumping the swept up shards into the trash can, Rose began to heft the chairs up onto each of their corresponding tables. The wooden legs shrieked and groaned against the floor as she pulled them out.

Wiping her hands down on the little half apron tied around her waist, she returned to Tansy behind the bar, looking out over the newly cleaned space in front of her. Tansy was already turning out the lights. Rose coughed, in an attempt to pull her manager’s attention. The keys in Tansy’s hand jingled, like some sort of incredibly ugly windchime.

“Here you are,” Tansy pulled out the gleaming silver time capsule. Pulling up the sleeve of her shirt, Rose held out her arm, eyes looking down mournfully at the glowing, neon green countdown on her inner forearm, the seconds ticking down rhythmically. Most of her salary was made through tips, but that had all but dried up since the people in Dayton had less and less time to give. The latest taxes were bleeding everyone dry.

Tansy pressed the capsule to her wrist and they both watched as the numbers began to count up.

“That’s it?” Rose asked when Tansy pulled away the capsule. “That’s less than last week’s salary.”

Tansy shrugged. “The boss will be in tomorrow, if you want to talk to him about it.”

Grinding her teeth, thumb rubbing over the little green numbers as if that would somehow encourage them to multiply, she stomped to the back, shedding her apron and hanging it up, grabbing her coat and bag.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Tansy said, following her to the door with the keys.

“Yeah,” Rose huffed, letting the door slam shut behind her. It was already dark out, the streets illuminated by the measly street lamps lining the street. Tugging her hair from the tight braid she’d kept it cinched in while she worked, Rose pushed herself in a jog, covering the blocks quickly. The few people still lingering on the streets paid her no mind; it was a common occurrence to run from place to place in Dayton.

Boots skidding to a stop at her apartment door, she slid the key into place, listening for the click and jiggling the door until it opened. Sometimes it got stuck.

Kicking the door shut behind her, she hung her bag and jacket on the hook on the wall, running her fingers through her hair. Her stomach grumbled. She hadn’t eaten since the small breakfast this morning. Having lunch would have meant less time spent working, which meant fewer tips and an even deeper cut in her salary. She couldn’t afford that right now.

“Rose?”

Her jaw locked at the sound of her older brother’s voice, body stiffening. “I’m here.”

She listened as his shoes thudded against the floor. Her brother was a hulking, imposing man, with messy, dark brown curls and gleaming amber eyes just like hers.

“Come here.”

“No hello? No ‘how was your day, Rose?’” she raised an eyebrow. “I thought Mom and Dad taught you better than that,” rounding the corner to the kitchen, where his voice was coming from, her grin faded gradually away as he dropped down a small, familiar case onto the counter.

“Care to explain this?”

A slight tremor entered her hands, which she balled up in an attempt to hide her anxiety, tilting her chin up and setting her jaw stubbornly.

“You went through my things?” she knew for a fact that she hadn’t left the small case of paints sitting out. They’d been stowed carefully. He would have had to have been snooping to have found them.

“You know the rules, we only keep what we need. The rest we give away,” he ground his teeth together.

“I don’t think that the fifteen minutes that I spent on paints is going to solve world poverty, Luke.”

His eyes snapped up to hers, and she had to fight back the urge to take a step back at the look in them. “You have no right to this frivolous shit. Not when people are out there timing out on the street.”

“I’m old enough to be able to decide what I will and will not buy,” she snapped back, throwing her hands up. “For fucks sake, it’s just one case of paints. And they were on sale!”

His chair scraped loudly against the tile as he stood. Clutched in his hand was a silver time capsule. “We’ve talked about this.”

Yes, they had. More times than she could count. And every time it was the same story. How her brother and his underground group of revolutionaries dreamed of tearing down the existing system. How they had a plan: to steal time from the wealthy and privileged people and give it to the more needy. But the heists were more difficult to plan and execute than expected, not helped by their resources being consistently lifted and stripped away whenever the Timekeepers picked up one of their members. And the group Luke had joined up with insisted on practicing what they preached. All members could keep enough time to themselves to scrape by, but the rest was to be taken and given away to others. The more needy.

Rose often had to bite her tongue to keep from pointing out that she and Luke were technically part of the “more needy.”

But her brother had hitched himself to the cause, and she, by default, was dragged right along with him.

At first, she hadn’t minded so much. It wasn’t lost on her, everything that Luke had done for them, to keep them alive after their parents had timed out. And for a while, Luke had her buying into the whole rhetoric. It felt good to know that her time was being given to those who needed it.

But day by day, watching all of the time she worked tirelessly for disappear, left instead with the frantic anxiety of her clock running out before she got her next paycheck…to say she was disillusioned would have been an understatement.

There was a time when she had hobbies. When she did things other than just work and sleep. When she was a kid, she’d loved to paint. But now, it had been years since she’d even held a brush. They couldn’t afford a simple easel, let alone paints or brushes. She had bought the little case of paints on a whim, a silent hope to recapture some of what she had lost.

She just wanted to paint. Or have a day to herself that wasn’t spent running from one place to the next in an attempt to conserve the time ticking away on her wrist.

That didn’t seem so wrong to her.

“Give me your arm,” Luke ordered, expression still dark.

She knew from experience what would come next, and yet still she squared her shoulders and scoffed. “No.”

His wolfish eyes narrowed, hand shooting out, snatching at her arm. When she tried to pull it away, he slapped her so hard across the cheek that she staggered and had to catch herself against the counter to keep from falling. Seizing her by the wrist, hard enough to bruise, he turned her arm, pressing the capsule to her skin. She watched bitterly as the numbers started to tick down, her hard-earned time draining away into the silver container.

“That’s enough,” she tried to pull her arm away, but his grip was much stronger, tightening at her attempt to pull back.

“It’s enough when I say it’s enough,” he snapped. Anxiety began to build in her chest. He wasn’t going to leave her with enough, she was going to time out, maybe this time he would actually bleed her dry–

Luke pulled the capsule away, looking down at the numbers displayed on it. “You don’t have as much as you did last week.”

“They cut my salary. You know, like they’re doing to everyone these days?” she wrenched her arm out of his grasp. Looking down at the numbers, her body jerked with sudden horror. “You’ve only left me with an hour!”

“To give you an idea what the people we’re doing this for live with every day,” clutching her shoulder, he began to drag her down the hallway.

“Luke!” you’re going to kill me, you’re going to kill me, you’re going to kill me–

He shoved her into her bedroom, sending her tripping over the rug and falling hard on her front on the floor. Scrambling to her knees, she looked up at him, equally furious and begging.

Luke’s eyes were full of hate and shame, shaking his head in disappointment. “When did you become so fucking selfish?” he slammed the door a moment before she managed to pull herself to her feet, rushing towards it, grabbing and jiggling the doorknob. But it was already locked tight.

“Let me out! Let me out you fucking bastard! I’m going to time out!” she kicked at the door in fury. “You’re going to fucking kill me!”

But there was no response from the other side.

It was an odd feeling; to know that you were so close to death. That there was nothing to be done about it. She had screamed and raged at Luke for a good twenty minutes, kicking and slamming her fists into the walls and door, before slumping to the floor in defeated exhaustion. For a while she cried, burying her head in her knees, scratching desperately at the green countdown on her arm, as if that would somehow encourage the numbers there to increase.

They didn’t.

By the time her clock had only about five minutes left on it, she was bordering on numb. Still seated on the floor with her back rested against the bed, her arms hugged her knees while she started at nothing.

Maybe death wouldn’t be so bad.

The door opened, and Luke’s shoes scuffed against the rug, and then he grabbed her arm. She watched expressionlessly as the numbers began to count back up.

A part of her was tempted to try to break his arm.

“Get changed.”

“What? Why?” she curled her arm back protectively against her chest the moment he’d let it go.

“Billy dropped out of tonight’s heist. His daughter’s sick with the flu so he can’t come. We need an extra person.”

“Do I get a choice?”

He gave her a stern look. Sighing, she pulled herself miserably to her feet. “What do I need to wear?”

“All black. Something with a hood. We’ll be swinging by the base to meet up with the rest of the group and brief with Cyrus.”

“Okay,” she mumbled, still feeling shaky and raw, her nerves near fried.

“It’s an easy job. We’re just going after a couple of Timekeeper cars.”

She stopped, hand hovering over the knob of her dresser. “Timekeepers?”

“Yeah. We’re tracking them to crime scenes and when they’re distracted by whatever case they’re working on we break into the cars and steal their salaries. They use the mechanism in their cars to wire them their per diem, but there’s no real security. You just put your arm in, and tell it to give you time.”

“You do realize if you get caught stealing time like that, they’ll likely execute you, right?”

“I’ve done it a dozen times now,” Luke sighed at the unconvinced look on her face. “Be ready in five minutes.”

The rebel base was located in an abandoned subway tunnel, from the time before time zones and genetic engineering had left everyone forever frozen at the biological age of twenty-five. During the passing years it had been fashioned into a more livable area, complete with bunks, a makeshift mess hall, and even an area with cells to hold captured Timekeepers, traitors, or other prisoners.

Rose had never liked it. It was dirty, and there was a damp, musty scent in the air that would stick to her clothes for weeks after they’d left.

Everyone else in the group that would be going on the heist chattered gleefully amongst each other. Rose didn’t know any of them save for Luke and another woman named Jen who she’d met on other brief visits to the base. But the others: Frank, Kelly, and Liam, were all unfamiliar to her.

Lingering behind Luke, Rose didn’t pay much mind to the conversation, simply rubbing the toe of her shoe against the dirty ground in impatience.

“I heard a rumor that Leon’s been moving up in the ranks with the Timekeepers,” Frank was saying. Kelly rolled her eyes, tucking her blonde hair into her hood.

“Of course he is, look at what he gave them,” her lip curled upwards in disgust. “Fucking rat.”

“I tell you, if I ever cross paths with him, I’ll shoot him in the head,” Jen smirked.

“Screw that, I’d beat him to death with my bare hands,” Liam jeered.

“Leon?” Rose asked, confused.

“Uh, yeah, Raymond Leon,” Luke supplemented offhandedly. Rose’s stomach felt like it dropped out from underneath her, eyes blinking slowly.

“Raymond?”

Luke glanced at her funny in response to her tone, then did a double take, laughing. “Oh shit, that’s right.”

“What?” Jen asked.

“Rose and Leon were in the same graduating class.”

“You knew that fucking prick?” Liam sat up.

“I…” Rose bit the inside of her cheek, realizing just how touchy of a topic she had stumbled into. Maybe ‘known’ was not quite the best descriptor. She had never really gotten as close to him as she would have liked; sharing little more than brief hellos on the occasion that they bumped into each other in the hallways or in their handful of shared classes. It was unlikely, if she was being completely and brutally honest with herself, that he had even really noticed her at all. She had been little more than an awkward art nerd, spending most of her free time splattered with paint in the studio. The only brief moments that she spent amongst her other classmates outside of school were during her time on the school’s gymnastics team. And Raymond, well…

Even back then, Raymond had held an allure of mysteriousness to him. He was serious in a way that was bordering on cold, and he didn’t particularly seem to have attached himself to one specific clique, at least not within the school, anyway. It had been that mysteriousness that had so drawn her in. A level of unattainableness that had a good amount of the girls falling over themselves for him.

“Not really. I just saw him in the hallways and in class sometimes. We probably said only a handful of words to each other the whole time,” her eyes darted nervously between the other members of the group. “So…he’s a Timekeeper?”

“Yep.”

Her brows furrowed, mouth opening to ask more questions, when the door opened and Frank, the unofficial leader of this job, was called in to talk with Cyrus. As he left them, his eyes lingered on Rose for a moment, a glimmer of suspicion in them that made the hairs on her arms stand on end. She wondered just what he had seen in her face to make him look at her like that.

The others returned to their conversation, while she stood there in silent contemplation, mind twirling and tumbling with memories and curiosities. It had been a long, long time since she’d thought about Raymond. And how the hell did he become a Timekeeper? Granted, she had lost track of pretty much everyone from her class after high school, but still. No one from Dayton became a Timekeeper. That was common knowledge. Hell, she’d even applied to the academy on a whim following graduation and was promptly rejected. Even though she met all of the physical and intellectual benchmarks.

The door again opened, and they were all ushered inside the makeshift office.

The leader of the rebels was a tall, thin man named Cyrus, with brown, slicked back hair that was just beginning to turn silver at the temples. He had a pointed beard, and eyes the color of dark mud. As he briefed the group on the job he paced back and forth, cleaning his glasses languidly before sliding them back on his nose and shoving his hands into his pockets. Before all of this, he had been an elementary school teacher.

When they were finished, he did not say much, just nodded slowly. “Is everyone clear on their jobs?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Okay,” he pushed his glasses further up his nose when they slid down. “Go on, then.”

Everyone nodded, moving towards the door.

“Rosemary. A moment.”

She stopped, looking at Luke with wide eyes. He just shrugged and followed his friends out the door, leaving her alone. Taking a deep breath, she turned back to face Cyrus.

“Yes, sir?”

“It is Rosemary, yes?”

Clasping her hands in front of her, she took a tentative step deeper into the room. “Actually I prefer just Rose.”

“I see,” Cyrus nodded. “You brother tells me that you’ve been…” he spread his hands out. “Having a crisis of faith.”

“Is that so?”

“I believe the exact words that he used were selfish and disillusioned.”

“Luke has a habit of being hyperbolic.”

“Yes,” Cyrus chuckled. “But then, you see, I hear from Frank that you seem to have some sort of…infatuation with this Timekeeper?” he clicked his tongue. “So you can understand my concern.”

“I ask one question about him and all of a sudden I’m infatuated?” she cocked her head to the side.

“So you have no sympathies for the Timekeepers, or their mission?” Cyrus took a step towards her. Rose swallowed hard.

“Of course not.”

“So why the interest?”

“I was just surprised to hear that Raymond managed to get a position with the Timekeepers, that’s all.”

“You knew Raymond Leon?”

“We went to school together,” she shifted awkwardly from foot to foot, looking down. “I didn’t think that people from Dayton ever got accepted to be Timekeepers. So when I heard that he was with them…” she shrugged. “I was taken aback.”

“I see,” Cyrus nodded. The way he spoke was very soft and slow. When his eyes met hers, they were steady but stern. “But you do not have enthusiasm for our cause,” when she opened her mouth to argue, he spoke over her. “I’ve learned over the years how to tell when someone has begun to grow tired. It’s only natural, when a rebellion takes this long,” he moved to stand behind his desk, hands planted flat on top of it as he leaned towards her. “I find that it is helpful for someone to remind themselves of why they joined us in the first place.”

“I never had much choice,” she spoke hoarsely. Cyrus raised an eyebrow. “Our parents timed out, and I couldn’t survive on my own, I needed Luke. And he bought into your shiny posters and your talk of meaningful change and I was dragged along.”

“You seem to carry quite a bit of resentment towards your brother.”

Shrugging, she looked away, at the wall so covered in dirt none of the red from the bricks was visible. Only brown, muddy dirt. “Despite all this time and effort you’ve put into making the world a better place, all you’ve done is leave a trail of bodies behind and accomplished nothing in actually changing things,” she thought back to the way Luke’s hand had burned as it slapped across her cheek. “And it looks to me like your people are out of control,” she had to bite her lip to stop herself from saying more. Cyrus’s lips pressed into a firm line.

“Hm. There are a few bad apples, that’s true. But our cause is still just, Rose. This system cannot be allowed to continue.”

Looking down, she picked at her fingernail polish. “Okay,” tucking back a lock of hair that had pulled free from her braid, she looked up. “So what is your plan, then? To replace the current system once you’ve toppled it? Luke’s never told me.”

Cyrus stared at her for a long moment, and then his shoulders heaved with a long sigh. “Sometimes, Rose, you have to tear something down before you can even conceive building it back up.”

Her brows pinched, face contracting. “You don’t even have a plan?” she asked. “You’re asking us to give up our lives for this and you don’t even have an end goal in mind?”

“I have a group of people working on coming up with solutions. But these things take time.”

Pressing her hands to her face, she rubbed hard at the skin, likely smudging her makeup, but she didn’t care. God, it was all for nothing. There was no point to any of it. None at all.

“He takes all of my extra time,” she said numbly, shaking her head. “Everything that I earn…”

“Yes, that is how we do things.”

“I just…I don’t understand why you can’t leave me with something.”

“We all have to make sacrifices.”

She looked down at her countdown, nodding wordlessly.

“Go with the others, now.”

“Yes, sir,” her voice was a weak whisper, the hopelessness settling in her stomach. They would never let her go; she knew too much for that to be allowed. Nor would they allow her any type of indulgence or luxury.

Maybe she really was awfully selfish, to even want those things in the first place.

A rat scuttled back into the shadows as she walked slowly towards the door. Hand on the doorknob, she stopped. “Cyrus?”

“Mhm?”

“What did Raymond do?”

He was quiet for a long moment. “What do you mean?”

“The others…I’ve never seen that type of hatred before. Even towards a Timekeeper,” when she looked back at him, an uncharacteristic dark cloud had passed over his face.

“If you know what’s best for you, Rose, you would forget all about him,” the tone in his voice made it clear that the subject was closed. Swallowing around the questions building on her tongue, Rose just nodded, and slipped out the rusted door with little more than a sound.

Thank you for reading! Please consider leaving a comment, reblog, or like. I always appreciate feedback and love getting the opportunity to interact with you and hear your thoughts!

Next Part

Series: Part 1 of The Shackles of Broken Time

Main Masterlist • The Clockwork Laws

#raymond leon #raymond leon x oc #in time #rose mason #rose mason x raymond leon #my ocs #fanfiction #the clockwork laws #my fanfiction

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