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ariesangelxo · 4 months

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mornings - part two

MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI

cw: more angst, still no comfort (i promise it’s coming in the next part), heartbreak, one mention of panic attacks, prescription benzo use, recreational coke use, drinking, arguing, mention of a gun and a gunshot at the end, not proofread lol

an: thank u all SO SO much for all of the love on part one !!! i am blown away and in awe. there also will be a part three for sure <3

part three

the past twenty-six days had not been kind to you. your mornings were spent rotting away in bed until your mom would force you to get up, her expression of concern always made you feel even worse. your days weren’t much better, you forced yourself to detach from your heart and numb your emotions. it was the only way you knew how to keep going. you put on a mask during the day with your parents, giving them occasional smiles and laughs that weren’t the kind that warmed their hearts. they knew you weren’t okay, but they also knew they couldn’t force you to talk about it or you’d shut down completely. your nights consisted of taking a benzodiazepine in order to fall asleep, you couldn’t sleep without them. you tried, it only led to intense panic attacks and hysterical sobs that made your mother’s heart break in front of you.

this morning had been a bit different. you were awakened when you felt a weight in your bed, and in the haze of waking up you initially thought it was rafe. you shot up the moment you remembered everything, eyes widening and heart racing, but you looked over to see sarah in your bed. "oh my god, sarah you scared the hell out of me!" you exclaimed, holding a hand over your chest.

she let out a giggle, "i'm sorry, your mom let me in. i miss you," her tone was gentle. you had become very close with sarah during your relationship with rafe. being over at the cameron's house so often led to a beautiful friendship forming between the two of you. she was like a sister to you, something you cherished deeply as you didn't grow up with a sister.

you felt a pang of guilt in your chest at her words. you knew she missed you, she'd messaged you every single day since your break up without fail, even if you didn't always text back. you had seen her a couple times, but when she asked about what happened, you told her you weren't ready to talk about it. sarah was incredibly understanding, knowing how much you loved her brother and not wanting to push you too far.

"i miss you too, sar. i'm sorry i've been such a shit friend lately." you responded to her. you gave her a small smile, curling up next to her as she sat against your headboard.

"it's okay, i know you're not doing great with everything going on right now," she trailed off with a sad smile, "but, you're going out with me tonight!" she became animated as she spoke.

you didn't have it in your heart to deny her, not when she looked at you like you were the most important person in her world. "you know i can't say no to you. where are we going?" you asked curiously.

"there's going to be a huge party at the boneyard, and you're coming with me. no ifs, ands, or buts." she giggled out, "i need to get you out of your room, you're rotting away in here, babe."

"god, you sound just like my mother," you teased back. "i'll go though, i miss you more than you know. i even miss the pogues a bit." you both laughed, referencing her newer relationship with john b.

you couldn't prevent your curiosity from getting the better of you, "how- how has he been?"

sarah bit her lip, debating internally how much to tell you. "he's been... not great. i don't see him much when i'm home, he's usually in his room with the door shut. he's been a lot more moody too, snapping at literally everyone in the house. it probably didn't help that i told him he's an idiot and he fucked up the best thing to ever happen to him."

you couldn't suppress the laugh that slipped through your lips or the slight satisfaction you felt knowing that you weren't the only one struggling. "i love you sar. thank you." you leaned over, giving her a hug.

"i love you too. now get your ass up and shower. we're getting you a new outfit for the party."

you spent the next few hours strolling through the streets of figure eight with sarah. your arms held multiple shopping bags, filled with clothes she insisted you needed for tonight. you were incredibly grateful that she had forced you out of bed, you actually felt human for the first time since everything happened.

you found yourself in a small cafe, giggling as sarah told you a story from one of her drunken adventures with the pogues.

“you know… you should talk to jj tonight. i know he thinks you’re hot.” sarah gave you a mischievous smile as she wiggled her brows.

“funny,” you rolled your eyes playfully at her, “but it’s way too soon for me to get into anything with anybody right now.”

“i didn’t mean start dating him, i just think you would have fun together.”

“i just- i don’t know, sar. i’ve been such a wreck these past few weeks… can i tell you what happened?” you looked up from your fingers to meet her eyes, now widened with shock.

“yeah, of course you can. but don’t feel like you have to if you don’t want to.”

you were grateful for her support, going into your explanation of how the last couple months of your relationship, rafe’s behavior changed drastically. sarah hung on to your every word, needing to know exactly what led to the end of your relationship.

“and so i walked into the country club to surprise him. i spent the whole morning getting ready, did my makeup how he likes, even wore a new sundress that i know he would have loved. but i walked in and…” you looked up as your vision began to blur, “he was talking with some bitch i’ve never seen before bartending. she had short brunette hair, but he fucking smirked at her the way he only does- did for me. and- and then, she basically fucking held his hand while she fucked him with her eyes, and he let it happen!”

you spit the words out like they were poison on your tongue, not noticing your voice beginning to raise with frustration. sarah’s jaw was nearly on the floor.

“what the- what the fuck?” she racked her brain, trying to remember if she’d seen anyone matching your description recently, but nothing came to her.

“god, shit. i’m so sorry, babe. i don’t know what the fuck is wrong with him.” she attempted to console you as you dabbed your eyes with a napkin.

you shrugged your shoulders, “what’s done is done. i just want to forget about everything for a while.”

she nodded, “then let’s go get ready. we can pregame at yours and ride with john b and them.”

after a few shots, a couple hours spent transforming yourself to not look like you spent the last three weeks trying to cope with your break up, and a lot of laughter, you and sarah were ready to go.

you wore a cropped loosely crocheted white sweater over your pink bikini and a white miniskirt that hugged your hips , the strings from your bottom peaking out from the top of it. you were finally feeling good about yourself again, and you’d be damned if you let anyone ruin it.

the ride to the boneyard only lifted your spirits more. it was impossible not to laugh around the pogues, especially when jj did whatever he could to hear your giggle.

you arrived just as the party was beginning to pick up. relief flooded your veins when you didn’t see rafe anywhere. you knew it was a possibility he’d be here, but it was going to be significantly easier to have a decent night without his presence lingering around.

you filled up a red solo cup at the keg, downing the cheap alcohol before refilling it.

“slow down there, or you might not make it too long.” jj approached you, giving you a flirty smile.

you gave him a laugh in response, “i’ll be fine, jay. i just want to be able to let loose tonight.”

“stick by me then, don’t want any of these pervs creeping on you.” the thinly veiled concern in his voice made you smile. you know he’s flirting, but it’s clear he wants to keep you safe knowing it’s your first night out in so long.

you spent the next hour surrounded by the pogues, and true to his word, jj looked out for you. he did so well that you failed to notice who had shown up to the party, the one and only rafe cameron.

rafe, on the other hand, saw you immediately upon arriving. it was impossible for him not to when your presence demanded his attention. he was not happy to see who you were hanging around with. his ongoing beef with the pogues was well known by everybody on the island. he didn’t come to party though, he had other business to attend to as barry gave him a side eye, “fuck are you doing, country club? you can fight for your girl later, we’ve got shit to do.”

your drink had somehow disappeared. your furrowed your brows as you looked down, giggling to yourself as you told your friends you were going to get another one. you were at the perfect level of drunk, not to the point of blacking out or vomiting, but to where you couldn’t quite walk in a straight line and everything was funny to you.

you stumbled up to the keg, starting to fill up your cup when you felt someone watching you. the hairs on the back of your neck stood up, you instantly knew who it was. it was as though there was a chip in you that alerted you to when he was nearby. you took a deep breath as you turned your head slightly, seeing rafe sat next to a man you didn’t know as he handed a small plastic bag filled with overpriced coke to a touron. rafe’s eyes didn’t leave you as he signaled him to leave.

you could hear your heartbeat in your ears, the hand holding onto your cup now trembling and the lump in your throat building. rafe stood, starting to approach you as you froze. your brain was screaming at you to run but your body refused to move an inch.

“what the fuck do you want, cameron?” your words were spat out with venom. your tone clearly surprised you both as he looked shocked momentarily. you were typically one to stand your ground, but never ever was your attitude aimed towards him.

“what do you mean ‘what the fuck do i want’? you fucking up and left out of nowhere and haven’t spoken to me in almost a month.” his voice was filled with anger, his nose flaring as he clenched his jaw.

you let out a humorless laugh, “out of nowhere? you can’t be serious, rafe. you treated me like shit the last few months of our relationship.” you didn’t yet mention seeing his interaction with the bartender at the country club, not knowing if topper and kelce had told him about seeing you when you left that fateful day.

“what? be-because i couldn’t be with you twenty-four fucking seven? like i- i wasn’t out working my ass off to afford nice shit for you?”

“‘working your ass off’ will you stop fucking lying to me? i fucking saw you at the country club,” his facial expression showed confusion, bringing his brows together to try and understand what you were talking about, “you let that bitch touch you, you looked at her how you used to look at me. i spent hours getting ready, i showed up, wanting to surprise my boyfriend for lunch, and what do i see? my boyfriend letting some bartender hang off of him while he flirts with her?”

your voice had raised as you got more and more angry. you were now shouting at him as other partygoers failed to hide their stares and murmuring. nobody ever talked to the kook prince the way you currently were, unless they wanted their face bashed in.

rafe grabbed your arm harshly, pulling you down the beach and away from others. you stumbled behind him, knowing you weren’t physically or mentally strong enough to push him away.

when you looked up at him, you suddenly noticed his blown-out pupils. you felt your heart sink. “you’re using again.” you stated flatly.

he scoffed, rolling his eyes at you. “don’t act like you fucking care.” he spat out at you.

“jesus fucking christ- rafe, when did you start again?”

“don’t worry about it. when did you come to the country club?” his tone was demanding, sparking further irritation in you.

“the day i left. i- i let a lot of shit slide for too long, because… because i wanted to be a good girlfriend and support you when i thought you were just stressed out from work. and, in return, i get to watch my boyfriend make me look like a fucking idiot.”

rafe was silent for a minute, his lips pursed as he clearly was trying to remember what he was doing before he came home to an angry ward and an empty room. then realization hit him, he knew exactly what you were talking about. he brought his palm up to his face, groaning.

when he was about to speak, he was cut off. “is cameron bothering you?” jj’s familiar voice called out. you looked past rafe’s large figure to see all of the pogues standing beside him, looking ready for a fight if it came to it.

rafe gave a humorless chuckle, “stay the fuck out of it, pogue.” he clearly wouldn’t go down without a fight either.

your heart stopped for a moment and your body filled with ice cold terror as jj pulled out a gun that was hidden behind his back in his waistband. it was clear you weren’t the only one not expecting it as the rest of them looked at jj with concern, john b telling him to put it away. “yeah? let’s fucking go, rafe. been itching for a fight for too long.”

everything became blurred. the mixture of shouting, seeing figures suddenly moving towards each other, and the unmistakeable sound of a gunshot, and then everything went black.

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outermaybanks · 1 month

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calm after the storm - toxic!ex!babydaddy!jj wants you back so bad it makes him look stupid ( a/n: i would like to give a HUGE thank you to @redhead1180 for the baby names i owe you a million kisses <3 18+ smut, p in v, unprotected sex

JJ had never been in your forever plan, at least not after the first breakup. Sometimes you couldn’t help but wonder how different your life would’ve been had you just had a stronger resolve. Over 3 years in total when you had gotten pregnant, on and off, but the off periods never lasted long; you and JJ just couldn’t stay away from each other.

You had been broken up for about 2 weeks when you found out you were 6 weeks pregnant with your daughter. You and JJ tried to make it work for the remaining 7 and a half months, but something in him always knew how to piss you off, and something in you practically challenged him to do so, so the last month of your pregnancy, you called it off, “For good this time. I mean it, JJ,” you had told him. Of course he didn’t believe you, why should he?

But you made good on your word, at least, more so than you had in the past. You went six whole months without caving, and when you did cave, finally letting JJ back into your bed, you made sure to tell your daughter’s father that it didn’t change anything; you still weren’t together.

Now, your beautiful daughter Lilly was over a year old, and somehow you and JJ made co-parenting work despite not being together, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t still get pangs of jealousy when the other moms at the park checked him out. What you didn’t know was JJ felt the same way, constantly, just knowing you were ‘single’ drove him nuts.

Before Lilly, sure, JJ had wandering eyes, he never actually cheated, at least not by having sex with anyone else, but in the past, you had caught girls in his dms, and while he never explicitly gave them a chance, he didn’t do much to reject them either. But once you brought his daughter into this world, there would never again be any doubt in his mind that you were the only one for him.

So while you were mentally preparing for the day that JJ brought another woman over to meet your guys’ daughter, he was figuring out a way to get you back.

So, here you were, waiting for JJ to come pick up Lilly for his weekend with her. Hair and makeup done because you were ready for a break from crying, breastfeeding, changing diapers, and worse of all, Lilly hadn’t stopped asking for da-da all day; you needed tequila.

When you heard the rumble of John B’s van (JJ started borrowing it for pick ups after you gave him a long lecture that babies cannot ride on motorbikes), you stood up, holding Lilly on your hip as you opened the door and stood in the doorway.

JJ rolled his eyes the second he got out of the van and saw you, looking all pretty for someone that wasn’t him, but his grimace dropped the second he locked eyes with his daughter, who immediately started reaching for him.

“There’s my sweet girl, you miss daddy?” JJ cooed softly as he took her from your arms, smiling at her sweetly before he turned back to you, his eyes trailing up and down your silhouette before turning back to lovingly baby-talk to his daughter. “Why does mommy look like she’s trying to get me to give you a sibling, hm?”

You rolled your eyes. “Not that it’s any of your business, Jesse,” you sneered, “but I’m going out tonight.” “With who?” JJ was quickly to ask, bouncing Lilly in his arms to keep her placated, his eyes focused on you. “What part of none of your business did you miss?”

Now it was JJ’s turn to roll his eyes. “Whatever,” he said, grabbing her diaper bag and throwing it over his shoulder with the hand that wasn’t holding Lilly. “Call me when he can’t get you off.”

Before Lilly, you would’ve chewed him out for saying something like that, so cocky, but now, he wasn’t just JJ, the annoying guy who unfortunately was your first love, but he was your daughter’s father, and for her benefit, you learned when to bite your tongue. Like now.

When your girl friends showed up to drive you to the bar you couldn’t be more grateful for the break. Truthfully, you had been nervous about JJ being a father, going as far to offer him an ‘out’ when you told him the news, but he couldn’t have proved you more wrong. He read the books (skimmed) and got sober (on his days with her) and got a good paying job (and a few side hustles). He wasn’t a deadbeat dad, furthest from it. He was constantly texting you to ask if he could stop by before or after work, or when he was on break to see her, he gave you money even though you never took him to court, he bought things for her for his place and yours, and even bought stuff for you to make sure you were taken care of too. You had no worries about leaving JJ alone with Lilly for the whole weekend.

You were two shots deep before you couldn’t get JJ off your mind, not worried about your daughter, or if he was struggling with her, oh no, this was different. You felt your thighs clench together when you picture the way he held Lilly earlier today. You can feel uncomfort between your legs when you remember his snide comment about giving Lilly a sibling. You down your third shot and pull out your phone, immediately opening your texts with JJ.

You: how’s Lil?

JJ is immediately texting back, only a second passing before the read time comes up.

JJ: need me already? You: i asked how our daughter is JJ: she’s fine already asleep. got the baby monitor on her.

You bit your lip as you tried to think of what you could say next, but before you had to struggle long, you felt your phone vibrate in your hand.

JJ: u coming home or what?

You quickly said goodnight to your friends, bumbling out an excuse about Lilly, and ordering an uber to JJ’s front door.

When JJ pulled the front door back, it was with a cocky grin already plastered to his lips.

“Knew you missed me,” he said, his voice low. “I wanted to check on Lilly…” you say, trying to feign innocence. “Lilly’s sleeping,” JJ replies, cocking his head slightly, calling your bluff. When you didn’t say anything, just stared at him with crossed arms, not wanting to give him the satisfaction, he let out a huff and opened the door wider, allowing you in. Without a word you went past him, you knew your way around JJ’s place like it was your own. You slowly opened the door to Lilly’s room, turning your head to look inside her crib. Like promised, she was sound asleep, in mismatched pajamas, but otherwise okay.

You slowly backed up, closing the door with you, but the second you heard the click of the door, JJ’s lips were on yours, his hand on your waist and pushing you against the adjacent wall. A part of you wanted to push JJ off of you out of spite, but the other part wanted him so bad, you couldn’t help but kiss him back.

“There she is,” JJ mumbled against your lips between kisses. Your hand came up to his cheek, pulling him closer in an attempt to silence him. He quickly leant down to put his hands underneath your thighs, pulling you up to carry you to his bedroom, closing the door with his foot before collapsing on top of you on the bed.

“Knew you still wanted me,” JJ mumbled before his lips kissed down your jaw to your neck, quick to mark his territory. “Shut- up-” you mumble as you hold back small noises of satisfaction. “‘S okay… better even… you’ll always come home to daddy, won’t you, mamas?” JJ ask gruffly, his hands already moving to trail under your shirt and pull it up to your neck, freeing your breasts.

You stayed silent, well except for little huffs you couldn’t help but let out as the moment became more and more heated. But JJ wanted an answer. When your hands moved down to untie the strings to his plaid pajama pants, his hand enveloped yours, forcing you to stop. “Say it…”

You bit your lip as you looked up at him, eyes flickering between his rapidly with need. “I’ll always come home to you daddy…” A smirk stretched its way across his lips as his fingers expertly untied his pajamas pants. “That’s right, mamas… no one else gonna fuck you like I do, you need this dick. Say it.”

“Need your dick, daddy,” you mumble, spreading your legs more for him, allowing him to slot himself right where he belonged as he flipped the hem of your skirt up. JJ pulled himself out of his boxers, his dick already hard in his hand as he slid his tip through your folds. “What do you need, baby?” At this point, you were annoyed. He knew what you wanted, why couldn’t he just get on with it?“You! JJ, I need you, please-”

That was all he needed to hear before slamming into you entirely, your head immediately falling back into the pillow. It had been a couple months since the last time you caved, but the stretch burned with delicious familiarity, something only JJ could give you.

“Fuck! JJ-” you groaned, but he quickly shut you up by moving his hips. “You feel so fucking good, mamas… can’t believe this pussy gave me a baby…” he seethed out, his hips moving at a merciless pace. Small whines and whimpers left your mouth despite your attempts to quiet yourself, until finally you just bit down on JJ’s shoulders, clinging onto him for dear life while he fucked you the way only he could. “Think it could give me another?” you didn’t miss his mumbled words.

“Shut up-” you panted out, wrapping your legs around his waist to encourage him to go deeper. “Want a boy this time…” JJ said between small grunts that left his throat with each thrust. “Whatcha think ‘bout that, hmm baby? Little mini-JJ?”

He knew what his words would do to you, because that’s exactly how you ended up with Lilly. Your eyes rolled back as he hit particularly deep, pulling a loud moan from you. You’d give him whatever he wanted as long as he kept moving his hips, your orgasm already nearing.

“Gonna wake the baby, sweetheart. Gotta keep quiet for me, cupcake,” JJ said his voice low, partial groans escaping with his words. You had to bite down on your lip to keep yourself muffled, your fingertips digging into the flesh of his shoulders, pulling him down closer, giving him the perfect opportunity to press his lips to yours. The kiss was ravenous, like JJ might swallow you whole just to keep you here, and it was just what you needed to push you over the edge, his lips muffled your moans perfectly.

In the blinding pleasure of your orgasm, you didn’t feel him cum inside you, but once you were both laying side by side, panting unevenly, you slowly felt the warmth drip out of you.

“Are you fucking serious?” you said, not angry, more annoyed, sitting up on your elbows to look at him, his eyes focused on your face, a smile on his lips. “Told you I wanted a mini-me.”

#jj #outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #obx #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader

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ellecdc · 3 months

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can i request a hurt comfort (with as little hurt as possible)

where barty either gets a letter from his dad or his dad is just a dick and he goes to reader for comfort

thank you

thanks for your request lovie! and also for your patience in my writing it <3

Barty Crouch Junior x Potter!reader who comforts Barty after a moment with his dad

CW: fem!reader, Sirius spends the entire fic being an absolute pain in Remus' ass, I feel like Barty acts a bit ooc in this (more hurt Barty than angry Barty if that makes sense), I'm also not 100% sure how I feel about this piece so I apologize if it reads weird

“You can always add more layers, right? But you can only remove so many.” Peter explained earnestly.

“Not the way that I do it.” Sirius replied salaciously, earning him a jab in the ribs by Remus.

“No, I think being cold is the worst feeling in the world.” James offered resolutely.

“Wrong.” Remus drawled without looking up from his book. “I’ve never been more miserable than when I’m overheated”

“You’re miserable 75% of the time, Moons.” Sirius mumbled; though the words seemed to escape his mouth without his permission because no sooner had he said them was he slapping a hand over his mouth and looking at you with a horrified expression.

“Yeah well next time you’re so cold, Sirius, you can try crawling into Peter’s bed for snuggles.” Remus muttered back.

“What’s the count at now, Pete?” James asked quickly.

“That’s the….eighteenth time Sirius has been put in the dog house.”

“This week?” You asked.

“No, just since breakfast.” Peter responded simply.

“How about you, Trouble? Do you think being too hot or too cold is worse?” Sirius redirected.

“Hot.” You replied as you flipped a page of your book, earning you a snicker from Remus, a cheer from Peter, and grumbling from James and Sirius.

“You only voted that way because I’m your brother.” James bemoaned.

Peter looked between the two of you inquisitively. “Erm, wouldn’t that have put you in her favour?”

You, Sirius, and James all chorused ‘no’ as Remus snorted.

“Siblings don’t operate that way, Pettigrew.” Regulus said from behind you, causing the group to turn towards the entrance of the Gryffindor common room to see Regulus and Barty making their way over.

“Hi baby!” James called over, causing Sirius to make a dramatic gagging sound and Regulus to roll his eyes, though no one missed the furious blush that decorated his cheeks as he moved to sit beside your brother.

Barty quietly moved around the sofa to sit beside you on a cushion and let his head fall onto your shoulder.

“Hey bubba.” You greeted quietly, pressing a kiss to your boyfriend's hair.

You heard a quiet ‘hi tres’ as he pressed a chaste kiss to your shoulder before repositioning his head back onto your shoulder.

“Merlin, who kicked your pygmy puff, Junior?” Sirius asked after a beat of silence, causing Regulus to hiss something at him under his breath and Remus to snap his book shut abruptly.

“Alright, you’re done.” He barked at Sirius before he was throwing his now gawking boyfriend over his shoulder and marching up to the boys’ dorm room.

You craned your neck to look at Barty whose head was still pointed downward as he fiddled with the bracelets adorning your arm.

Your bemused gaze shot to Regulus who pursed his lips before mouthing ‘dad’ at you.

You took in a deep breath and tapped Barty’s thigh twice before standing and offering him your hand.

You knew it was bad when he never made eye contact with you as he accepted your hand willingly.

You knew it again when not one word was shared between the Gryffindor tower and the Slytherin dungeons; nor as you whispered the password to the Slytherin common room and made your way to the boys’ dorm room.

And you knew it once more when nothing was said as you and Barty pulled off your uniforms, changed into some comfies and crawled into bed.

Barty curled up in a quasi-fetal position on his bed as you mirrored it, your body facing his as you brought one of his hands in both of yours to your chin.

“What’s going on, my love.” You whispered before pressing your lips to his knuckles.

The only response you got was a quick shake of his head.

You allowed silence to fall over you for a few moments before you couldn’t stand the anguish anymore.

“Barty? Please? Talk to me…” You all but begged.

Barty’s breath hitched slightly before he was pulling you towards him from where you were joined at the hands.

Needless to say, you went willingly.

“What happened?” You whispered as you tucked his head into your chest, wrapping your arms protectively around your boyfriend as if they could single handedly protect him from any negativity the world tried to throw at him.

You’d certainly try.

“I don’t know why I let him get to me. I-” Barty started, his voice cracking miserably. “I don’t know why I care-”

“Of course you care, Barty.”

“But I shouldn’t!” And though his volume got louder, his tone never grew angry; not at you, at least. “I shouldn’t; he’s awful Y/N, just terrible. And I shouldn’t care if terrible people hate me or wish I was never born or wish I was dead or whatnot. I shouldn’t care if he wants me to be more terrible like him. I shouldn’t care, it shouldn’t hurt-”

“Bubba.”

“I don’t know why I ever thought managing to receive all 12 O.W.L’s would be good enough for him.”

“Sweetheart, I-”

“I don’t know why I give a shit what he thinks of me when I know-”

“Because he’s your dad, Barty.” You finally got out, tightening your hold around your quickly spiralling boyfriend as he took a shuddering breath. “Because even if you only managed to pass 3 O.W.L’s, even if you dropped out of school to become a hard-done-by ventriloquist performer; he is supposed to love you and he is supposed to be proud of you. That’s why it hurts.”

Your words seemed to be of little comfort to Barty who simply nuzzled further into your chest which was quickly growing damp with his tears.

“I’m sorry, Barty. You’re not wrong for feeling hurt; he’s wrong for hurting you.”

Barty managed to fall into a fitful sleep as you simultaneously thanked the gods for blessing you with parents like Euphemia and Fleamont Potter and cursing the gods for not gracing such luck onto every child.

No matter, though; you had a plan.

“Goooooooood morning, Siri!” You greeted as you floated up to your most dutiful fellow trickster.

He simply looked at you sceptically.

“No way, Trouble.”

“What?”

“Not happening.”

“I haven’t even said anything!” You whined.

“Yes, but you see, I’m on my best behaviour today.” He explained solemnly as the other three marauders made their way over to the table where you had found Sirius sitting alone.

“Remus refused cuddling privileges last night, didn’t he?” You asked nonplussed.

Sirius harrumphed and sat back in his chair as Remus, Peter, and James all chorused “Remus refused cuddling privileges last night.”

“That’s too bad…” You hummed noncommittally. “I could really use your guys’ help with something.”

“Yeah?” James asked, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees as he considered you.

“With a prank.” You continued, noticing the way both Peter and Remus perked up at the p word.

Finally, you turned your gaze to the eldest Black brother who was very pointedly looking down at the book he’d been studying from prior to your arrival.

“Against a very old, very bigoted, downright horrid Pureblood family.” You finished.

To both your absolute horror and delight, Sirius finally looked up at that; a rather sinister looking smile taking over his face as he locked eyes with you.

“Well…why didn’t you just say so?”

Remus was in the middle of muttering about how it was horribly unfair that he put in nearly three times the amount of effort into his homework only for his boyfriend to earn the same score as him after having hardly read the book at all just as Regulus, Barty, and Evan took a seat at your table.

“Morning.” Barty greeted you quietly as he cozied up on the bench beside you, pressing a lingering kiss to the side of your head before fixing himself up a cup of tea.

“How is it that when McGonagall calls on you, you’ve not got a sodding clue what she’s been going on about, but you managed to get an Exceeds Expectations on your paper?” Remus grumbled before putting down his cup rather more aggressively than strictly necessary.

“Because, Moons; I’m brilliant.” Sirius responded simply.

“You’re a brilliant pain in my arse is what you are.” He grumbled as Sirius beamed at him.

“I hardly understand how any of you lot get anything done with all the tomfoolery you concern yourselves with.” Regulus mumbled as he fixed himself some toast.

“Tomfoolery. Merlin’s tits, Reggie, come join us in the twentieth century will you?” Sirius taunted from the other side of James, earning him a withering glare from his brother.

“Speaking of tomfoolery.” Evan started as he looked at you with a mixture of pride and suspicion. “Why don’t we go around the table and share where we all were last night? I’ll go first; Reg and I were studying for the alchemy test coming up. Barty?”

You barely had a chance to give Evan a sideways glance before Barty was scoffing at him. “I hardly think that’s any of your concern, Rosier.”

“Nevermind; Regulus and I left you in the dorms and found you in the dorms immediately afterwards; how ‘bout you lot? Oi! Gryffindors! Where were you last night?”

“Head boy duties.” James offered without looking up.

“Prefect rounds and then bed.” Remus explained nonchalantly.

“Following my boyfriend around during his prefect rounds and then bed.” Sirius continued.

“Pete and I played three rounds of wizarding chess and one round of gobstones before bed.” You said flippantly.

“Who won?” Regulus asked quickly.

“What?”

“Who won the game of gobstones?” He clarified.

You and Peter said “I did” at the same time before whipping your heads to look at each other.

“In what sodding world did you think you won that, Peter?!”

“Uhm, how about because you’re a cheat?” Peter scoffed back at you.

“Oh, you’re dead. Rematch, tonight!”

“No, not tonight.” Barty argued.

“Why not?” You asked, turning your attention from your faux adversary to look at your boyfriend.

“He’ll be too busy duelling me for calling my girlfriend a cheat.”

“Don’t blame the poor sod for the fact that those two didn’t have their stories straight before our interrogation, Junior.” Evan said with a smirk.

“What the hell are you on about, Rosier?” Barty challenged.

Evan made a noncommittal sound as he tossed a copy of the Daily Prophet in front of him.

In big, bold letters, the headline read “MYSTERIOUS FIREWORK RELATED INCIDENT ENGULFED HALF OF CROUCH MANOR IN FLAMES” before the story continued on.

An alleged attack was sieged on Crouch Manor in the late hours of the night when charmed fireworks were set off within the Sacred Twenty Eight family’s home. It appeared that the two current residents of the manor were not home at the time of the attack, so though there were no resulting injuries, approximately just under half of the Manor had been completely desecrated by the time the occupants had returned home.

You and the marauders were all in various states of shoving food into your mouth, speaking to one another about the weather, and other general forms of innocent behaviour as Barty turned to look at you incredulously.

“What did you do?” He asked breathlessly.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Barty.” You said softly; staring intently into his green eyes that seemed to be searching the very depths of yours.

“Did you do this for me?”

You scoffed in faux derision. “The only thing I did last night was completely annihilate Pettigrew in a game of gobstones and two rounds of wizarding chess.” You continued to deny.

“Two!?” Peter exclaimed from a few seats away from you.

“You’re perfect.” Barty whispered at you before you had a chance to start another verbal row with your co-conspirator.

You took a moment to examine Barty then; a way you hadn’t done since you last left him.

Since you left him curled up in a blanket, cheeks still damp with tears as he no doubt dreamed of his deep rooted hatred of his father.

But right now, today, there was none of that boy; today his expression only held ease, admiration, and hope.

“Well….perfect would have been if the whole manor had gone up in flames but…I suppose there’s always next time.” You muttered as Barty cackled loudly.

Yes…you decided you would do it for him a thousand times over if this version of Barty was the one that it promised.

#marauders era #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #reader insert #self insert #barty gate #barty crouch junior #barty crouch jr #barty crouch jr imagine #barty crouch jr x reader #barty crouch jr x you #potter!reader #barty x potter!reader #fem!reader #barty crouch jr ficlet #Barty Crouch jr blurb #ellecdc fics

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neteyamsilly · 2 years

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i will soften every edge, hold the world to its best | 2

summary ;; Your burning determination to prove your father wrong and Jake's wish to teach you a lesson both end up in a pyrrhic victory. PART 1 | PART 3 pairings ;; dad!jake sully x reader, mom!neytiri x reader, sully family x reader genre ;; pure angst and family feels notes / explanations ;; im speechlessly overwhelmed at the sheer amount of love you guys showed me these past couple of days. like. literally never had something like this happen to me before. i got too excited to finish this chapter to give back to yall, there was an attempt to proofread but... i hope it's not too bad, please enjoy! as always, if you see any mistakes, im sorry!

The path further into the floating mountains was all the worse to navigate thanks to the lack of light, the only useful guides you had were the faintly flickering bioluminescent lights from the forest deep below. The branches twisting around each other to create a naturally built bridge from mountain to mountain benefited from this, contrasting as a clear obscured line to your eyes against the glow underneath.

The easiest part of your journey, in hindsight, was just skipping along this line.

You weren’t exactly happy about this.

The more you left behind, the more you were freaked out that Neteyam or anyone else was onto your intentions already and hot on your trail right this moment. Imagining father making a beeline to you in the air with Bob, a cruel, merciless whistling arrow, made you all jittery and almost puking kind of nervous, pulling at the depths of your stomach.

Your rationality told you that it was a half an hour walk to your spot from the tent, and Neteyam would be hurrying the more he thought he wasn’t able to catch up with you along the way, so you had around twenty minutes until the whole family was panicking and raising the clan to look for you.

Tuk had gone missing once thanks to some hide and seek game with Lo’ak (she’d hidden so well and was waiting for her siblings to find her already, blindly sticking to the game for an entire day, not out of stubbornness but childish purity), and this was exactly what had gone down —

the resentful part of you questioned if father thinks of you highly enough to resort to that.

If something happened to you, he would maybe urge your brothers to search for you for a while, and drop it then — leaving you to your own devices happily.

Maybe.

Were you even worth it in his eyes for a search party? You wondered if he cared enough that you disappeared.

But that was a stupid, childish thought you knew you fantasized about a lot — perhaps this was why he’d called you immature. This was no mindset for a strong, independent, confident hunter. The thought father was right, even a miniscule bit was bitter on your tongue, worse than what he called black coffee.

Disappearing so you’d find out just how much he cared was unfair to mom, for one.

She had lost so much in such a short amount of time, the stories she sang poignantly about were hard to listen to without tearing up. Her home. The trees of voices, all the lost ancestors. Her father. Uncle Tsu’tey. Her first ikran, Seze. Loss upon loss you think there’d be nothing left to give anymore, but sky people’s fire was always hungry, always willing to waste more to grow bigger.

You wouldn’t forgive yourself for making her cry in your pursuit to punish father. Never.

You weren’t a child.

Just wanted to be one, sometimes.

Wanted father to babytalk you, pet your head longer than a passing touch as he walked away hurriedly to attend to other matters, make beads for your braids the way he always did from pretty stones he found on ponds, carve you little trinkets when you graciously had to give up your toys to Lo’ak and Kiri’s greed.

Your neck piece was all them in fact, he’d see it if he ever paid enough attention, or perhaps it was all insignificant to him, five kids meant countless belongings for each individual child had been passed down from his hands, it would be a miracle for father to recognize you still wore his clumsy creations. But again, it had been too long since he’d even looked at you affectionately, he wouldn’t See.

He’d transferred those habits entirely to Neteyam at one point in time.

Your older brother would always ruffle Lo’ak’s hair and tease him the way father used to, comfort him in his own playful way, and even though the younger looked discontent at being babied, you knew he was happy Neteyam was quite literally his shadow to look after him through tough times — including shielding from father’s line of fire. In return, he was suffering from being a foil to the older son, you understood the struggle because you were going through the same comparison, you just weren’t obsessed with catching and living up to father as much as Lo’ak did.

Win some, lose some, I guess.

Plus, Neteyam was trembling under the massive planet-weight pressure, he had to set the standard, he had to live up to the older brother title. He was becoming more of a father figure to Tuk as days passed and the Olo’eyktan became more transparent from his family’s life as a dad to five.

Besides, Lo’ak made trouble enough for two people to go around that you felt bad for your big brother, Kiri was thankfully more mellow (despite frequently hanging out together with him and Spider) compared to him that Neteyam could breathe, not having to divide his attention.

You were in awe of her about how disconnected she was from all the changing dynamics. She had her own problems you could never understand, more spiritual than your grandmother, and ever the ethereal soul who you thought would disappear into Eywa if flesh wasn’t holding her down to Eywa’eveng.

You were the teeniest, tiniest bit jealous of her (and Tuk) holding the softer sides of father, the boys thought he was deliberately softer because they were girls — but you were also a girl, so why weren’t you allowed in?

Well, thanks to that, you’d gotten closer with Neteyam and known him better after the whole clan had settled on High Camp, so it wasn’t all that bad. You could badmouth father all day long sitting on some rock and make him laugh abashedly, guilty that he was smiling along with the trashing of the father’s name he respected so much — it was therapy, as Norm had taught humans frequently sought back on earth. It got you trying some things with Neteyam, becoming more of a companion and ranting buddy for him who he could be honest and open with, so that he didn’t have to worry about taking up a larger role in your life to fill father’s missing presence. You were concerned about him more than he could be concerned about you.

That got you contemplating if father had noticed how comfortable his two oldest children were with each other that it was always Neteyam who he sent after you. A girl could dream, no? For one moment, it wasn’t because it was Neteyam’s responsibility, but because father was paying attention to how his kids got along.

The image of him pushed you to be frantically fast to reach your destination as the fear returned with might. If he caught you right now when you had no ikran to prove him wrong, the punishment he was sure to give would be way more humiliating, you at least wanted something in your name to taunt him with if you were going down anyways.

A smile crept up your face at imagining him discombobulated and speechless, unable to pick out one thing that you did wrong.

The carelessness that came with your speed combined with how dark it was to see where to clutch and put your feet on caused you to slip up countless times when climbing, the sharp rocks scraping the insides of your palms and insides of your forearms, lifting your skin up. What you cared about more than the pain was that the blood was now tracking material for your family to sniff you out — you couldn’t exactly wipe the rocks clean, so you carried on with a hammering heart, more afraid of father ruining your perfect moment than whatever ikran that would soon be going straight for your throat.

At least you were able to wash the blood off your hands in the waterfall.

Downside? You couldn’t see shit. With your bare back flushed straight to the wall of rock and your feet feeling out the thin edge, the shrill cry of ikrans and the roaring of water was about to overwhelm your senses too much to pay attention —

and you slipped.

The shriek that ripped out of you at the sensation of falling and the drop of your stomach alone almost made you pass out, and for a split second it was a good thing that you wouldn’t feel the moment you died, but your body, once again, was one step ahead of you, it twisted in the air the last second and your hands gripped the ledge.

The wet rock and your blood made all that your life was hanging on slippery as you dangled into the abyss, swaying with the strong winds at this height.

You didn’t know if it was the adrenaline or the nervousness, but something made you laugh out loud, and the bubbling laughter continued until you were able to pull yourself up safely at the ikran rookery, finally.

Looking around like a fish out of water, how you hadn’t cracked your skull open shooting down to the forest below was a total miracle.

You’d made it?

No one was there to witness what you just pulled off in total darkness. Your whole body was shaking, and you weren’t even chosen by an ikran yet. This was happening. Shit. This was totally happening!

Your excited and terrified, “Hell yeah!” went unheard apart from your aerial crowd.

But.

One among them answered your holler with its own that cut into the night like a battle horn. It was the closest one to you that was apparently watching you the whole time, starting to roar at you and twitching on its feet, shadow in the night informing you of its movements.

You’d seen from Neteyam and Lo’ak’s iknimayas that you only had a few seconds to pull your shit together until it attacked, this was meant to be dangerous, serious, you could end up as a late night snack to them if things went wrong, but you couldn’t stop grinning from ear to ear that it had chosen you.

You were chosen.

It wanted you as its rider.

If only father could see you now. The sensation of being the one — being special was unmatched. Now you could somehow get the fraction of the high he must have felt as Toruk Makto.

The, “Let’s fucking go!” that left you kept echoing into the night as you lunged at it, dodging to the left when it snapped at your head, hooking one arm around the ikran’s slender neck and clamping your legs around it the moment it started thrashing around wildly.

You didn’t know why father had made a big deal out of it. You formed tsaheylu in no time, breaking Neteyam’s record — and you didn’t even have the rope to hoop around its neck and jaw.

Firstborn daughter excellence.

Confidence restored and triumphing wildly to the pulse of your heart, the flickering smile on your face in wonder turned into a full-fledged smirk. At that moment, nothing mattered. It was just you and your victory. Proving father wrong.

Feeling the ikran’s lifeforce through the bond, a shiver went down your back as his beady eye looked up at you, pupil shrinking and expanding rapidly while you both took a minute to catch your breaths after the fierce wrestling.

“Gotcha,” you panted. “You’re mine now.”

The adrenaline made everything sparkle and shine, your spirits soaring high and unbothered about literally anything else in the world, and for one glorious moment, lost in the memories of your brothers’ iknimayas boasting with cheers from the clan and sometimes encouraging, sometimes fearful screams of your parents, your spirit sought them out to be soaked in the same pride — forgetting that it was night and nobody was there to celebrate you.

You were all alone.

The smile dropped from your face and crashed down like paper thin porcelain upon the slightest movement.

Right.

You’d forgotten you were doing this out of spite. It snuffed every twinkle of magic away from the previously shimmering milestone of your life.

Your ikran felt the crushing disappointment through your connection and chirped at you, almost like an excited sibling pulling on your arm to show you something, weirdly comforting. Mom’s ikran was a spitfire, but also nurturing — this one felt different somehow, you felt him bouncing from wall to wall in your head, hyperactive and cheerful.

Flying! He wanted to fly!

The first flight sealed the bond, after all.

You weren’t alone even if none of your family members were here to share the joy — you had your new buddy. And the drop of gravity was thrilling this time, not the terrifying chaos that had your asshole shriveling up as it was when you’d missed your step.

The flights with mom were something you looked forward to, drying up in frequency as you aged, you’d missed the wind on your body and the greenery dancing below as you maneuvered in the air — but mom reserved nighttime rides for father only, and after the move to High Camp, the skimpering chance you could get your way if you begged cutely enough was gone too. You’d never flown at night.

The sight was out of this world. The stars leaving a glowing trail above you, the forest pulsing with faint purple, green and blue lights underneath, everything was elevated in beauty because darkness let them shine.

You made loops in the air with your ikran, got as high in the air as you could before your breath thinned, and scraped at the tips of trees before shooting up again, all the while laughter you’ve never screamed before bubbled out of you.

And you were all alone. There was no mom to gleefully taunt your ikran with hers to get both of you dancing in the air. There was no father to watch on with a small smile he was fighting. There was no Neteyam to stop you from dipping too close to the ground, and no Lo’ak to challenge you to get closer to race with him — no Kiri to complain how all of you were being so childish, how stupid this was all the while she was the worst of you all, instigating all the chaos.

No Tuk in your mom’s lap whining about you guys leaving her off the fun.

Instead, there was the scent of a bogey in the air, snapping you out of the haze of sorrow.

When had you ventured out further into unprotected territory?

Linked with your thought process, the ikran stopped advancing forward and started beating his wings downward to stay unmoving, you observed the surroundings to get a better feeling of where you were, and noticed this was around the old shack, artificial lights were gliding between the leaves and branches that obscured your view of just who was roaming the grounds at night, definitely not a natural part of the forest’s flora.

Father’s voice materialized in your head, drilled into you and your siblings’ heads over and over again. If you come across any threat at all, do not engage, fall back and inform me. Got it? You call for me first.

And that split second of being afraid was your death sentence — that father would be so angry at you for your ignorance, amateurism, carelessness and idiocy that he could throw you out of the family for almost leading the demons to base simply by being there that they could figure out what direction you’d come from. That moment of weakness was enough for someone to snipe you out, and get you falling down from your ikran straight into the forest below, the cries of your new friend falling silent on your ears as you did your best to hug giant leaves to cushion your fall to the best of your ability. .

Barely any time was left for you to shake the disorienting motion sickness off, you couldn’t even attempt to run into the accepting, protective hands of the forest before whoever just shot at you was onto you, harshly gripping your arms and raising you up.

Father’s gonna be so mad if he finds out. Shit, I gotta get out of this.

But… Avatars? In full camo, armored, even. You hadn’t heard of this from anybody in camp!

“Damn! Didn’t actually think you’d be able to land the shot from all of that tree, man! Up-top!”

Two of them high-fived, you were actually going to be sick.

Thumb between his belt and stomach, another Avatar strutted towards you. The saunter and confidence meant that he was their leader. “Now, now… What do we have here?”

“A native.” You were being pushed down on your knees, one hand being grabbed and shown like a trophy. Just how many were there? You couldn't calm yourself enough to focus! “Four fingers.”

The speaker this time was a woman. “How unusual. Those monkeys don’t leave their coven at night.”

“Where were you flying, little bird?” The leader, a sleazy smirk on his face, leaned down to take a good look at you. “Leading away from the nest, perhaps?”

“She don’t understand, Colonel, don’t bother. Ya think Sully could ever manage teaching one word of English to those?”

“Watch how she learns in three seconds.” He yanked on your queue so hard you saw white light in this hour of darkness — and when your vision came back, a screen with your father’s face was being shoved to your face. “Jake Sully. Toruc Mactoe. Where is he?”

You screamed when he pulled with increasing strength, keeping up with the act you didn’t understand. And the state of pain and terror massively helped, contributing to you looking frantic and lost, only knowing that you were being zapped to your core.

“Seems like I don’t need to ask you.” His fingers snapped your head back to get a good look at your earpiece, late to notice you had it on at all because of the dark. “Can directly ask the man himself.”

All you could form to think was, ‘Father’s gonna kill me for this. He’s actually gonna kill me this time.’

You weren't terrified of what the Avatars would do to you. You were afraid of him.

One empty shell from the reloaded machine gun flew away, tinkling hollow when it fell down, and rolled until it stopped in a small pool of water that had formed on the jagged ground of the cave systems. In the scarlet and orange glow of the campfire he’d haphazardly put together right outside of their home out of impatience after Neytiri had basically thrown him out, Jake almost mistook the liquid for blood.

An ominous cloud of dread settled on his shoulders, a paranoia every father tended to go through.

“Big Brother, this is Devil Dog. State your status, over.”

Neteyam didn’t miss a beat to answer, thankfully. “Devil Dog, this is Big Brother. I’m still en route to Foxcove, over.”

“How much longer?”

“Ten minutes at best, sir. Over.”

What he wanted to say was how come he hadn’t met you halfway, but it was empty talk. No need to stress the boy out. “Devil Dog signing out.”

This girl was half the reason for the wrinkles on his forehead, Jesus Christ. He was basically waiting you out like a father sitting in the dark to ambush his daughter who had snuck out at night, for that single glorious moment of yeah that’s right, you got caught, after the light would come on to ruin that moment of relief of successfully making it back in.

His mate had scolded him to be nice and understanding, a Marine was anything but, the closest he could compromise was not being as mean to you than he had to be. Sassing, “So how was your Iknimaya?” like he planned was out the window — Neytiri was spot-on to say the girl would simply give the same mean energy right back at him, and that could only mean another erupting volcano of a fight and a good night’s sleep ruined for him, overthinking where he went wrong and how else he could have salvaged the situation.

He’d just make you tend to the ikrans for a week for some patience practice, cleaning shit for hours on a daily basis would certainly throw the temporary whim of the rite of passage hyperfixation out of your system. The possibility of you shouting you hated him was unavoidable, but Jake had to get his point across, no matter how terribly it nauseated him to hear something like that from his child.

It was strange to remember he couldn’t care less for what people thought of him in the past. Some shithead he wouldn’t give a rat’s ass about hated Jake’s guts? Good. He was living in their head rent free, it was fun even — Neytiri too, Jake absolutely enjoyed her hating game at first.

Being legitimately resented by his very own child, though, was a heartbreak he didn’t expect to hurt him the way it did, knocking air off his lungs the first time he heard it. A burning stab right in his heart that wouldn’t go away until he had to hear it for himself you hadn’t meant any of what you said.

Because that said hate actually stemmed from hurt Jake must have inflicted. Because you could actually despise him, and never allow him to reconnect with you again if he could ever manage to garner the courage to reach out to you — a mightier challenge than hunting Toruk in the sense it actually scared him.

His teenage daughter. Scared him.

Jake didn’t know what to do about it, he couldn’t even show what exactly this made him feel, too ashamed and proud for it in the first place.

The growing distance between you and him was an uneasy, frightened bird he tried to shush and calm in his heart in favor of other pressing matters that drilled small holes in the depths of his stomach, and over time, those little holes had fused together to create one big pit with greater gravitational pull than the sun — until Jake didn’t know how to stitch them back together anymore.

He told himself he would talk to you later, for sure. The morning after every argument, every fight, every jab from you he snapped at he would try to make amends for, definitely.

And then he didn’t.

“What is this, are you palulukan ambushing prey? I told you to make up with her, not prepare for hunting.”

Jake shook his head, dropping the machine gun back inside the crate. The warmed metal was some sort of consolation to his nerves. Marine habit. Always felt safer with a gun near. (Or was it the American in him?) “Neytiri,” he acknowledged, bobbing his head. “I’m just passing time.”

“What do you think will happen when she comes back and sees you waiting for her like this?”

Ah, like the old times when Jake couldn’t do one thing right in her eyes. “Yes, ma’am,” he said playfully, but with no mirth behind it, closing the crate with a muffled thunk. With nothing to do with them, one elbow went to his knee and the other hand’s fingers started a rhythm on the lid he’d just shut.

His mate’s hand gingerly came down on his shoulder, kneading the nerves. “Just talk to her, Ma’Jake.”

“I don’t know how to,” he admitted, he covered her fingers on her shoulder with his, and she immediately held his hand back. “Don’t know what to even tell her.” He gave an exhale from the deeper, tired parts of his soul, gazing at the path leading away from their tent. “With Neteyam and Lo’ak, it’s easy. I tell ‘em what to do and they—”

Neytiri took a seat next to him, gathering their hands together. “Suffer just the same.” Jake was about to brush her off, but she didn’t relent. “What you’re doing is hurting them.”

This now was about all of their children rather than you, specifically. Neytiri was trying to get him to see the bigger picture first before moving to cover what he did wrong with each child of his, they had had this conversation countless times before.

Here we go again, Jake thought.

“Doesn’t matter if that’s what it takes to keep them safe.”

“Does it?” Neytiri leaned in, and calmness washed over him despite the disturbing nature of what she was saying. “Does it keep them safe? Or push them to act out more, get in worse situations?”

He grimaced. “I have to—”

“You feel like you have to.” His mate shook their clasped hands, rattling his bones. “I keep my children safe with trust and honesty. Transparence, Ma’Jake. So that they listen to me when I mean it because they See me. You shut them out.” Her lips bared to show her pearly teeth as she was practically beseeching him. “You don’t get your children’s trust by treating them like a squad.”

“They trust me plenty.”

“They trust Olo’eyktan. Toruk Makto. What about their father?”

“I make sure they’re safe.” Neytiri dropped his hands with an agitated snarl, she thought they were back at the beginning again, he couldn’t make her truly understand no matter what he did. He poured his heart out through their tsaheylu everytime, but her values and beliefs were wired so differently from his at the end of the day. “I make sure they stay where I want them to stay for their own good.” Jake shook his head, his voice soft, hushed. No force behind it when Neytiri was heated in return. “One day they’ll understand.”

“They won’t if you never tell them.”

“Tell them what?” Jake asked. “That I’m being harsh on them to prepare them for war? You think they’ll take it seriously after this?”

“Na’vi were in war long before you. There will be wars after you. No parent sullied his child’s happiness for the price of becoming a warrior. You still don’t get our ways even after all these years.”

“The sky people’s way,” Jake emphasized with his arms. “I have to teach them how they think, what they go through, so they know what they’ll be facing, okay? I can’t simply teach them by telling them.”

“You’re deluding yourself, Jake. Contradicting.” Neytiri was gentle in her cruelty, the flickering flames burned less than her amber eyes. “Tuk and Kiri are getting none of this. I know your heart isn’t allowing you. Why can’t you do the same for your other children?”

Because he had gone too far already with the older three.

Trial and error.

He couldn’t take back the things he did and say back — and quite honestly? Jake was being pulled from all sides to sit down and rethink his parenting. All he thought anymore was how to protect his family, frequent nightmares of losing his children in gruesome ways were haunting his every step.

A father protects his children, that’s what gives him meaning.

Jake had his own desperate ways to do so.

He opened his mouth to say something back, anything, but was interrupted by the communication line coming on. “Dad.”

Jake immediately knew something was wrong, body sitting ramrod straight. If the frantic breathing and barely controlled voice wasn’t any indication of it, his eldest’s behavior was. Neteyam didn’t slip up in the codenames like Lo’ak did, dropped all formalities only when he was borderline panicking.

“Dad. I’m sorry, dad, sir, I can’t find her, dad, I’ve looked everywhere around here, I thought maybe she was hiding underwater, behind rocks—but I can’t, I can’t—.”

“Slow down.” Jake could barely contain his own panic rising from the state his son was in. The boy wasn’t able to see it, but he couldn’t stop himself from leaning in as if Neteyam was right in front of him, and started gesturing with his hand. “Slow down, son.”

“Dad—”

Jake tsk-ed. “Neteyam, slow. Slow.”

Neytiri took his elbow. “What is it?”

He told her to wait with his gaze, and turned his attention back to Neteyam. This could only mean one thing, he was praying to be wrong — needed clarification. “Now tell me calmer. What’s going on?”

“She’s never been here. She never came here in the first place. There’s no sign of her. No trace. I’ve tracked.”

Jake’s instant response was fear. Domineering, ice-cold, cutting fear. Bodily and emotionally both. You were clockwork, similar to him in having unchanging routines and patterns. Angry? Went for a walk. Depressed? No talking to anyone until it passed. Happy? Wanted to go to the forest to spend time with your siblings and always craved sweet fruit. Didn’t want to be around anyone? Hid in the little bioluminescent cove with a pond two little mountains away, always. Always.

Neytiri sensed this, observing the change of demeanor in him.“Ma’Jake?”

“Okay, son.” He seized back control. One missing child was enough. “Stay right there and don’t move. I’ll contact you.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Jake,” Neytiri hissed finally, at the end of her ropes.

“She didn’t go to the cove,” he said, face icy neutral as always, but his eyes showed dizzying concern. Neytiri put a hand on her mouth as Jake wasted no time in changing channels. “Night Owl, this is Devil Dog. Come in.” He couldn’t even wait two seconds before trying again. “Night Owl, what is your status? Where are you?”

Silence.

The more fear dug deeper into his skin, the more his anger and annoyance soared up, his tail was whipping the air erratically, the finger on the earpiece could send the metal right into his brain with how hard he was pressing on it. “I know you can hear me. This is no time for playing games. You know what you did to your brother? Do you know how panicked he was, not being able to find you—”

Then Jake remembered what Neytiri advised, he didn’t change strategies because she was right next to him to dig his eyes out, but because his heart was picking up its pace by the second. “Tell me where you are, I’ll leave you alone, I promise, alright? If you’re somewhere open, get to safety, I’m only asking this from you. Or else—”

“Don’t.” Neytiri raised a warning finger at him, voice just above a whisper so they could hear their daughter if she decided to cut in. “Threaten her.”

He couldn’t stop her from snatching the communication device off of him. “Ma’ite, it’s mom. Can you talk to me at least?”

His ears twitched at picking up on you responding, not quite making out the words.

Jake’s eyes shut close for a long time as his whole eyebrow line migrated upwards, he physically had to get a few steps between him and the earpiece so the obliviating worry that’d almost blinded him wouldn’t cause him to say something he’d greatly regret later. He could feel himself deflating. A migraine could be coming anytime soon.

You wouldn’t even acknowledge his existence but the moment your mother interrupted, you did? Fine. Fine. He didn’t care. Jake could live with it. At least you were alive.

A rippling shudder shook him the moment that thought hit him, an image of you lying dead in a ditch, pale blue, flashing in his mind, he had to run a hand down his face.

When Jake looked back, irked by the silence, he found Neytiri standing completely stock-still. And all of a sudden, her petrifying glare was on him, ears pinned all the way back, hands gradually starting to tremble.

“Neytiri?”

She wordlessly handed him the device, and with a deep frown, Jake put it back in his ear.

“Hi there Corporal, you hear me? Yeah, I know you do. As much as I’m charmed by the fatherly love I could give you a big old sloppy wet kiss, we have unfinished business.”

And the ground disappeared right under Jake’s feet, plunging him into hell itself.

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#dad!jake x daughter!reader #dad!jake sully x reader #jake sully x reader #jake sully x daughter!reader #dad!jake sully x daughter!reader #sully family x reader #mom!neytiri x reader #neteyam x sister!reader #neytiri x daughter!reader #lo'ak x sister!reader #kiri x sister!reader #irma: 📝#📖: light

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tteokdoroki · 7 months

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⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚⟡. — KATSUKU BAKUGOU. homemade love.

about. katsuki takes the pain of his middle-born daughter to heart, and does anything he can to fix it.

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! sfw, fluff, characters aged up, bakugou is a girl dad of three, reader is referred to as ‘ma’, their daughter is quirkless like deku lol, he makes her pasta, pro hero!bakugou, fem!reader, … a draft from a long time ago!! enjoy please <3

katsuki who cooks and makes his middle daughter her favourite pasta recipe whenever she’s down.

she comes home from middle school with scraped palms and knees, teary eyed and with the weight of the world on her shoulders.

“they don’t like me ‘cause ‘m quirkless.” she says as soon as she’s through the door — the authentic bakugou twang thick in her shaky voice. her face is pressed into your torso when you make eye contact with katsuki, who’s emerged from the kitchen down the hall and to your left.

you see it all flash before his eyes — his childhood, his high school career and the day he died. the way he treated the number one, uncle izuku, for so many years. it’s all reflected in the familiar red of his middle child’s eyes and it kills him.

“c’mere squirt,” katsuki calls to her, drying off his hands with the red riot tea towel slung lazily over his shoulder. he’d been washing dishes before she got home. “we’re makin’ dinner together.”

“but i—“

“i wasn’t askin’, i was tellin’.” the older blonde nudges his head towards the kitchen, reaching a hand out for his daughter which she tenderly takes. when she sniffles, bakugou tucks her into his side as if to protect her from the horrors of the world. you let them go without interrupting, knowing the importance of this moment for the two.

it’s not easy, being a bakugou when you’ve got dynamight’s reputation to live up to. he’s fearsome and fiery, confident and calculated. your husband and the father of your three beautiful daughters is one of the main reasons why japan is safe today. the burden and weight of his reputation that your children carry is unimaginable — only made worse by the fact that your middle is quirkless.

and yet, dynamight’s love for her doesn’t falter. since the moment he first held his baby girl she’s been his entire world, his moon along with his sun and now his stars. he’s adored her before she even became a twinkle in his eye — no amount of power or special ability would change that for him.

she’s katsuki’s girl, not just dynamight’s daughter. he’d tear the world apart to find anyone who ever hurt her.

“hold the knife properly. you cut your finger off ‘n yer ma will have my head.” his gruff voice, holding no malice, makes your sweet girl snort with laughter — a change from her earlier wobbly bottom lip and teary eyes. “we’re tryna mince garlic for the sauce, not yer little hands, squirt.”

she sticks her tongue out at him, bright blonde curls bouncing when she narrowly misses a playful swat from her father. “i’m trying,” your middle child wails with faux upset — her nose scrunches all too similarly to how yours and it sends an arrow of love straight through katsuki’s chest. for a moment, the kitchen falls to silence and the elder of the two turns his attention to the pasta dough in his large floured hands — focusing on shaping them into little bow ties just how his daughter likes, on occasion adding them to a boiling pot of water.

“i’m trying,” she says again, but quieter. “but daddy, everythin’s so hard.”

and like pot simmering away on the stove, her emotions start to boil over — tiny hiccups forming a sad symphony with the sounds of a working kitchen.

bakugou instantly springs into dad mode, dropping everything that he had been doing to take your daughter’s hand in his. despite how messy it may be. “hey now gorgeous, don’t cry…tell me what’s wrong, yeah?”

“i-i don’t want to disappoint you by not havin’ a quirk n not bein’ a hero…” she manages to get out through her blubbering — digging the heal of her palm into wet eyes. “i jus’ wanna make you proud!”

katsuki’s face softens, everything except for love for his daughter melting away. “‘nd i am proud. fiercely fuckin’ so…ah, shit, don’t tell yer ma i cursed, kay?” he stumbles over his words, he’s never been the best at comforting people but when bakugou’s child needs him, he’ll be damned if he leaves her in any pain. “from the moment y’first came into this shitty — i mean — crappy world, i’ve been proud of you. you’ve always pushed yourself beyond anythin’ i could achieve, you’re kind to people when they don’t deserve it, you smile whenever things get tough…”

taking a moment from his passionate rant, katsuki slows his breathing and composed himself — squeezing his little girl close. “yer the best thing that’s ever happened t’me ‘n yer ma. my proudest moment… i love ya so much. you’d never disappoint me.”

“really, daddy?” your baby sniffles, rubbing at her snotty nose.

bakugou nods with a gentle smile, cupping her face between his two floury hands before kissing her forehead z “really.” he affirms. “now get yer choppin’ skills together, this pasta sauce ain’t gonna make itself.”

the two blonde’s return to cooking, a comfortable silence settling in your family kitchen, also full of love. that night, your family of five sit together munching on homemade pasta bow ties in a sauce that your middle daughter had worked so hard to make. she grins brightly between her sisters, staring at her father with her shining red eyes thankfully.

in that moment, she knows that she is loved no matter what the status of her quirk is.

you link your fingers with bakugou’s under the table. “you did good, dad.” you whisper to him, stabbing through your pasta with your fork. “

“so did you, ma.” he whispers back gruffly, thumb running over your wedding band as he eats his pasta too.

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edenesth · 9 months

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The Way to His Heart [4]

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 3.1k

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

Part 3 | Fic Masterlist | Part 5

"Mistress, please allow me to help you back to your quarters." Eunsook pleaded, once again attempting to gently pull you up from the floor. But you shook your head weakly, keeping your forehead stubbornly glued to the ground.

Jongho sighed, stepping in to help, "Miss Jang, it's the general's orders. We've been tasked with taking you back to your room. If you don't cooperate, we might be in trouble."

To the relief of both employees, that seemed to work. They quickly moved to assist your limp and defeated form, with your tear-stained face and the bruise forming on your forehead breaking their hearts. Without wasting another minute, they moved you onto the assistant's back before rushing back to The Cold Palace.

You were already unconscious when they gently laid you on your bed, the toll of your crying apparent. Eunsook sighed, pulling the blankets over your petite frame and tucking you in. She then moved to dab your wet cheeks lightly with the sleeve of her uniform.

Observing you, Jongho frowned, "She feels so light; that doesn't seem normal. It's as if she barely weighs anything. Just what in the world was her life like in the Jang estate?"

The head maid gestured for him to keep quiet, putting a finger to her lips and shaking her head in warning. She didn't want to risk waking you up or, worse, letting you hear them talk about you as if you weren't there right in front of them.

Outside your room, the two took a moment to process the events of the day. It became apparent to them that you were just as much a pawn in your father's game as their master. It was also clear that your sudden presence was set to shake the very foundation of everything they had ever known in the general's estate.

"Let's just... take a break for the night and see what happens tomorrow." Eunsook mumbled, massaging her temples to alleviate the approaching headache.

Jongho agreed, "At least we've learned that our master isn't completely heartless." They exchanged knowing smiles before retiring to their respective quarters for the night.

Unbeknownst to everyone in the estate, Seonghwa stayed awake until he was sure that his assistant and head maid had carried out their assigned task. Laying in his bed, he forced himself to sleep, but the haunting image of you sobbing and kneeling on the ground plagued his thoughts incessantly.

He tells himself that perhaps he should have begun eating a bit first during dinner; that would've allowed you to have more energy during the extended hours of kneeling. Your reaction to the food lingers in his thoughts. In retrospect, he acknowledges that instructing the servants to discard all the food while you were hungry might have been a bit much; he realises that now.

Tomorrow, I'll allow her breakfast.

Tossing and turning throughout the night, the general found no reprieve until the early hours of the day. Even when he did manage to drift off to sleep, his dreams were filled with recurring scenes of the heart-wrenching dinner. His guilt and remorse persisted even in his unconscious state.

As the morning arrived, the voice of the head maid echoed from the entrance of your room, waking you from your sleep, "Good morning, mistress! May we please enter? We will be fixing you a bath and helping you get dressed for the day."

"N-no! I don't need help getting ready!"

You gasped, a sense of panic seizing you as you tried to move towards the mirror to inspect your reflection. The prospect of them assisting you with bathing and dressing meant they would inevitably see the bruises and scars littered across your body. The risk of being ousted on your second day loomed over you, and that was something you couldn't allow.

Your legs betrayed you and gave out, succumbing to weakness due to prolonged hunger. You crawled the remaining distance to the worn-out mirror in your room, suppressing a sob as you covered your mouth upon seeing your bare, unadorned self. The tears from the previous night had washed away your makeup, unveiling the stark reality of your appearance.

"Mistress, please. We've brought a new set of clothes for you, along with the freshest rose petals for your bath. It will be relaxing and enjoyable, we assure you!"

The kindness in Eunsook's voice intensified your emotional turmoil. As you stared at your hideous reflection, you realised you didn't deserve such luxury. You weren't the beautiful and elegant first daughter promised to Seonghwa; you felt like a fraud. How naive could you have been to believe you stood a chance of becoming the wife of the renowned General Park?

You weren't good enough; you'll never be.

"No, I don't want anything! J-just leave me alone, please..." You cried, pulling your knees into your chest and hugging them close. Despite the continuous persuasion from the elderly woman, you ignored her and remained curled up in the corner.

"Mistress... please," Eunsook gave up with a sigh, shaking her head at the servants behind her, "Take it away for now." They obeyed and dispersed with the clothes and bath supplies they had prepared. She knew there was nothing she could do if you refused to grant her permission to enter.

As the footsteps of the departing servants faded away, you released a sigh of relief. Your gaze remained fixed on the marks on your skin, cruel reminders of the abuse inflicted by your father, scars that seemed destined never to fade. So long as you have these on your body, you will never know what happiness is.

A bitter, humourless chuckle escaped your lips as you contemplated the fading hope for happiness. The general's response to your heartfelt words served as undeniable proof that, no matter how sincere your efforts, he would never accept you. The burden of the Jang surname seemed to ensure that you would never be given a fair chance, regardless of how hard you try.

While you wallowed in self-pity, Seonghwa was on the opposite side of the estate, reluctantly getting dressed for the day. His sleep had been far from restful, leaving him in a sour mood.

"So... how is she doing?" He asked in a detached tone, staring out of his window to avoid meeting his assistant's eyes.

Jongho arched an eyebrow at the question, suppressing a knowing smile as he observed his master's attempt to maintain a nonchalant demeanour, "Are you referring to Miss Jang, sir?"

The general clicked his tongue in irritation, "Who else would I be asking about?"

His aide nodded, "Right, how silly of me. Well, it seemed like she was sleeping quite well when we returned her to her quarters. I haven't checked on her since then, but Eunsook has organised a group of servants to assist her with a bath and preparations for the day."

Seonghwa hummed in approval, doing his best to mask any sense of satisfaction, "Very well. She better be punctual for breakfast then, we shall see how she plans to prove her innocence."

Despite his insistence on you being suspicious, Jongho could discern that there was no malice in his master's words. Perhaps there was hope that things could work out between the two of you after all. It seemed like the general was already letting his guard down, even if only slightly; the assistant could see it.

Or not.

"Where the hell is she?"

Seonghwa frowned, growing impatient as he had been waiting for some time, and you were nowhere to be seen in the dining hall.

Breakfast had already been served, and he even had the servants prepare slightly more than usual, anticipating your need for extra food since you hadn't eaten dinner the previous night.

Just as he asked the question, Jongho pointed at the head maid rushing towards the dining hall, strangely without you in sight, "There, Eunsook's coming."

The elderly woman bowed upon reaching the dining hall, catching her breath before addressing the general, "Good morning, master."

He waved off the greeting, "What's going on? Where's Miss Jang? Were you not getting her ready?"

She appeared to hesitate in her response, stammering, "W-well, I was trying to, but—"

"But what?" Seonghwa pressed, annoyance evident in his tone. Sensing her master's foul mood, Eunsook knew she had no choice but to tell the truth.

Jongho nodded encouragingly at his colleague, not wanting her to get in trouble. The head maid lowered her head in defeat, "I arranged for her bath and everything first thing in the morning, and we've been stuck outside her quarters for nearly an hour. Master, she refuses to let us in. It seems she doesn't wish to be bathed or changed."

The general and his assistant found themselves baffled by the revelation. Your new husband struggled to comprehend why anyone would be foolish enough to refuse a pleasant bath and a fresh change of clothes. But he was becoming less surprised after witnessing your odd behaviour the day before. By now, he had accepted the fact that you were far from normal.

Letting out a heavy sigh, he pressed a hand against his head, "Just... if she doesn't want to be bathed that badly, leave it. Just tell her to come out and eat," He muttered, recalling your longing gaze fixed on the dishes during dinner, "Go, get her now."

"Yes, master." Eunsook bowed before heading back to you. She hoped that this time, you would finally show yourself. Her concern grew as she remembered hearing the anguish in your voice when you asked to be left alone just earlier.

To be sure, she checked with the nearby servants if you had called for anyone or even emerged from your room while she was away, only to sigh in disappointment when they shook their heads.

She raised her hand to knock gently, "Mistress, I've come to inform you that breakfast is ready. The master is waiting for you. He wants you to know it's alright if you prefer not to be bathed or changed, but please, come and eat."

Instead of providing comfort, that only heightened your anxiety. Was the general summoning you to further interrogate you? It seemed likely. If he were to see you in this state, he might resort to beating you to death in an instant. Surely, being wedded to someone like you would be an insult to the great General Park.

As appealing as the idea of breakfast was, you feared you might not get to eat, similar to the previous night. Especially not with your current appearance. You winced, feeling the ache in your stomach from going without food for so long.

Perhaps this is how you'll meet your end.

"Mistress, wouldn't you like to have some breakfast?" Eunsook made another attempt, her concern deepening as she noticed your silhouette huddled in pain in a corner.

You shook your head, holding onto your stomach, "No... I-I don't want anything! Just... just go away, please..."

Seonghwa's impatience reached new heights as he waited, and it only intensified when he saw the head maid returning once again, without you by her side. He narrowed his eyes, feeling stupid for trying to be considerate towards you this morning. Here you were, revealing your true colours by being an ungrateful brat already.

His anger finally erupted when the elderly woman bowed deeply with a regretful grimace, "I'm sorry, master. Miss Jang refuses to leave her room."

The general slammed his fists against the table, scaring both Jongho and Eunsook as he pushed himself off his seat, seething, "That's it. If it's my attention she wants, then she's about to get it."

In a panic, the two employees chased after their furious master, making pitiful attempts to calm him down, "Master, please, perhaps she is still emotionally recovering from what happened last night!" But no amount of words could extinguish the fire in Seonghwa's eyes as he stormed towards The Cold Palace.

Truth be told, the assistant and head maid had never seen the general so worked up over any of his fiancées before. In fact, he barely paid them any attention, and they would all flee the estate in less than a day. Had it been any other woman, he probably wouldn't have cared if she came to breakfast or not; he probably wouldn't even bat an eyelash if she died in her room.

But he was oddly affected by your absence.

"Get out of my goddamned way!" He roared, pushing through the servants working around the garden paths that led to your quarters. They scrambled to their knees, bowing their heads low to avoid angering him further.

Jongho and Eunsook shot apologetic looks as they hurried past the poor servants who were just trying to do their jobs. But they had no time to worry about their colleagues when they saw Seonghwa closing in on your room. They scurried over to hold him back, trying to prevent him from scaring you any more than he already had.

"Master, please—"

Before they could intervene, the general forcefully slammed the flimsy doors of your room open, causing one of them to break off its hinges. Your cowering form was immediately revealed, but your new husband was too furious to show any sympathy.

"Are you angry because I didn't give you the wedding night you desired? If you want it that badly, I'll give it to you right now." Without allowing you to respond, he yanked your arms away from your body and tore the outer layer of your hanbok open, exposing your innerwear and shoulders completely.

"N-no, please!"

In just a split second, all of his fury vanished.

The sight of the numerous marks covering your skin, along with the newly revealed ones on your face, left Seonghwa frozen in place. He couldn't move as he observed the bruises and scars scattered all over you, and these were only the ones visible. He dreaded to think about what might be hidden beneath the rest of your body.

What the actual f—

Having tortured more than enough prisoners as part of his job, he was able to distinguish between old and fresh wounds. Judging from all the ones on you, he was repulsed to realise that you had a bit of everything – your injuries ranged from years to a few months old. This meant that you had been enduring abuse for a really long time.

A series of horrified gasps escaped Jongho and Eunsook as soon as they entered the room and witnessed the condition of your skin. You let out a heart-wrenching sob, making a feeble attempt to cover yourself again, "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..." You whimpered, despite being violated.

It's over. My life... is over.

Feeling lightheaded from all the crying and prolonged starvation, your vision darkened, your eyes gradually fluttered shut, and you slumped forward. The general acted swiftly, catching you and, for once, displaying gentleness as he nestled your head into the crook of his neck, holding your fragile form close.

"Hand me the blanket." He instructed. The head maid hurried over with the fabric, witnessing her master wrapping you in it.

Rising with you in his arms, he moved toward his private quarters with a newfound determination, "Jongho, go summon Physician Jung." The assistant bowed and hastily departed to fulfil his orders.

Entering his room, he laid you on his bed and carefully covered you with the sheets. Examining you more closely now, he became aware of your true frailty. Carrying you earlier, he noticed how remarkably light you were, like a feather. He clenched his fists in rage as he took in the horrendous marks that marred your skin. The new bruise forming on your forehead from the night before only made him feel worse.

Letting out a sigh, he tenderly wiped away the tears staining your cheeks, "What in the world happened to you? Who did this to you? Who dare lay their hands on you, hm?" He whispered, his heart tightening with more guilt than the previous night.

Eunsook stood in the corner, witnessing the scene unfold before her eyes with mixed emotions. While she was pleased to finally see her master display genuine care and affection towards you, it saddened her to realise the extent of the hardships you had to go through to evoke this response from him.

At the same time, her heart ached even more at the sight of the visible evidence of what you had been trying to conceal from everyone. It now made sense why you resisted a bath; you must have been terrified of anyone seeing the marks on your body. The thought of the horrors you endured in the Jang estate sent a shudder down her spine.

"Sir, Physician Jung has arrived," Jongho announced at the entrance, awaiting permission to enter. Seonghwa nodded tersely, "Let him in." The general rose from his seat to greet the physician, a familiar face who had become somewhat of a family doctor.

"Good afternoon, General Park. Are you feeling unwell—" The physician's words halted as soon as his eyes landed on the frail figure lying on the bed.

"It's not me this time, Yunho. It's... my wife."

« Preview of Part 5 »

"Jongho," The general called out softly, his eyes staying fixed on your unconscious form. Despite the softness in his tone, he was anything but calm on the inside. His aide stepped forward, "Sir?"

Finally shifting his gaze from you, he turned to his assistant, dead serious, "I'm going to need you to dig deeper this time. Hire a private investigator if necessary. Find someone willing to infiltrate the minister's estate and get someone to talk. Pay them as much as they need. Just find out what the hell happened while she was in there."

Deep down, he had a gut feeling about who might be responsible for all this, but he needed to know what exactly was done to you and why. He needed confirmation, and most importantly, evidence.

"General Park, I eagerly anticipate our forthcoming union. I assure you, my eldest is a gem; you'll come to adore her."

Recalling the smugness in Minister Jang's tone as he uttered those words, everything began to click. The puzzle pieces were coming together. The narrative of you being an accomplice for whatever your father had planned against him was finally being discarded; it was clear to him now that you were as much a victim as he was, except you'd had it much worse.

"Leave it to me, sir. I'll do everything to find out what happened to Miss Jang." The assistant said with determination, bowing.

Before he could leave, Seonghwa added, "Mistress. It's mistress to you all now. From today onwards, she's the official wife of General Park. I don't want to hear anyone calling her by that ridiculous surname ever again, understand?"

Jongho and Eunsook couldn't hide their smiles as they bowed rather enthusiastically, "Yes, master!"

Umm, surprise? HAHA I know I said I was sick, and I still am, but I'm feeling slightly better and gosh, not even the cold can keep me away from working on this! All your kind replies and messages got me so hyped, I had to finish this asap🤭

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

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#edenesth #the way to his heart #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #park seonghwa #ateez seonghwa #arranged marriage au #joseon era #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa x you #ateez fic #historical au

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fantastic-nonsense · 9 months

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I think people who genuinely wanted Percy to rebel against the gods and overthrow the system kind of...miss the whole point of the series

The question is not whether or not the gods deserve to rule; the books are kind of unambiguous that they don't! That the gods are generally undeserving of their children's loyalty is the one thing that Percy and Luke both agree on! But PJO is less about divine right to rule vs. ruling via consent of the governed and more about improving dysfunctional family systems. It's not about whether unfair rulers deserve to continue ruling; it's about forcing the gods to be better, fairer rulers and a better, fairer family given limited alternatives.

Because what are the alternatives, as presented to us within the scope of the original PJO series?

Option 1: allow Kronos to topple Olympus and take over. Clearly not a viable alternative for all of the reasons the books show us.

Option 2: the demigods overthrow the Olympians and rule the world themselves. Okay. How's that going to work out long-term, given demigods are mortal and cannot control or protect their parents' domains? Demigods will die out within a generation or two, so that's potentially a one-generation short-term solution, and then everyone's right back where they started. Except worse, because now the world has been out of divine balance for a century and the gods have a completely legitimate bone to pick with all demigods. Materially worse outcome.

Option 3: demigods ignore the gods and their will entirely. They integrate into the mortal world, refuse to participate in quests or talk to their parents, and pretend prophecies don't exist. Except that's clearly not a viable option, since we see that demigods usually can't safely exist in the mortal world without monsters coming after them, the gods are cruel enough to use blackmail and engage in hostage situations to get demigods to act as heroes, and prophecies have a way of coming true regardless of everyone's best attempts to circumvent them. Again: materially worse outcome.

And for Percy, for the demigods at Camp Half-Blood, for Luke and for everyone else who defected....for the most part, they don't actually have an inherent problem with the gods ruling them. They just want to be acknowledged, valued, and loved by their families, to be treated as more than a tool for their parents to wield whenever their services are needed. That was the core thesis of the demigod rebellion, which was wholly separate from Kronos' specific motivations for overthrowing the Olympians, and it's why Percy's asks at the end of TLO were what they were.

The point was always that had Percy grown up in a slightly more dysfunctional family environment...had he grown up with Frederick Chase's seemingly conditional love or May Castellan's madness instead of Sally Jackson's steady, quiet, unconditional love...he could have turned out like Luke. Like Ethan. Like the dozens of demigods who defected from camp to join Luke's cause. Percy could have turned out just as a bitter and angry and vengeful. Just as ready to tear down the system. Just as willing to betray and kill his own family for the sake of making a point.

But instead, Percy openly reprimands the gods for abandoning their families and using them as cannon fodder in their own petty disagreements. He forces them to acknowledge and claim their children. He demands that everyone who is part of the godly family be recognized and accepted, not just those related to the Twelve Olympians. He asks for those unjustly punished (like Calypso) to be set free and accepted back into the family. Because that's the point at the end of the day: not forcing bad rulers to step down, but changing an insanely dysfunctional family system that the gods and demigods are all members of into a better, safer, and more accepting environment for demigods to grow up and live in.

Overthrowing the gods wouldn't solve the problem at the heart of the series, which is the gods' shitty parenting and family management skills. It would only exacerbate the massive familial fault-lines that Kronos exploited and leave the demigods open to more godly manipulation. Which is why the series ends as it does, with Percy using his wish to tangibly improve the lives of his family instead of selfishly improving his own life (via accepting immortality/godhood) or overthrowing the gods. Because the conflict isn't about the gods as rulers. It's about the gods as parents.

PJO's core thesis is Percy, who grew up knowing unconditional familial love, looking at this whole world of children who didn't and saying "that's not fair. Gods should be better than this!" But instead of destroying them the way Luke wants to, instead of overthrowing them and putting himself on the throne, he instead challenges them to be better parents and family members. To be part of the solution instead of the problem. And Percy's demands don't solve everything, but they were necessary first steps! Without forcing the gods to acknowledge a bare minimum floor of inclusion, the cycle would simply begin all over again the next time a major conflict popped up.

So that's the problem Percy solves and how he successfully fulfills the prophecy: by believing that the gods had the capacity to change and forcing them to break the cycle of familial abandonment, he preserves Olympus and takes the first steps towards a new status quo, one that is objectively better for demigods than the one he grew up in. That's why he succeeds, and it's why Percy overthrowing the gods would have made for a much less satisfying ending than what actually happened.

#pjo #pjo meta #percy jackson #luke castellan #ethan nakamura #annabeth chase #long post #pjo tv #wow it's been awhile since I've written proper pjo meta lmfao

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star-girl69 · 18 days

Text

Caught You Girl

Georgia Amoore x Fem!Reader

—-

synopsis: georgia fiercely defends what is hers

also hi new pfp 😝

a/n: sorry for not posting in 10 years lol… shoutout to my wifey @cosmopretty bc she helped me w this 🫶 also the pictures at the beginning are from her…. tbh this fic would not exist without her everyone say thank you! this is also so bad but it’s ok ❤️

Caught You Boy - Lana Del Rey (Unreleased)

warnings: mentions of sex, lots of swearing, that’s it i think but lmk if i missed anything!!

—-

@/georgiaamoore my girlfriend is hotter than you and smarter than you and just better tbh (anyways happy 6 months my sweet girl can’t believe we kept it hidden for this long)

y/n.l/n it’s sweet that you think so highly of me but i thought you knew… i’m straight…

georgiaamoore @y/n.l/n bloody hell spare me

kamoreaarnold SOOO WHEN WE GETTING YOUR GIRL ON THE LIVE

y/n.l/n @kamoreaarnold wait i’m important enough to be on a KK ARNOLD LIVE????

kamoreaarnold @y/n.l/n GIRL YES WTF??

user-1 OKAYYYY HARD LAUNCH 😍

user-2 WHO STOLE MY WIFE.

user-3 @/user-2 she’s @y/n.l/n and did you not read the caption? she’s better than you

user-4 let me in there 😫😫

user-5 OMG I’m so happy for y’all 🫶

nika.muhl I feel like a proud mother

You are definitely not famous, despite the ten thousand followers that appeared out of nowhere, but your girlfriend and your friends definitely are.

You’ve been sitting on the floor for a few minutes now, KK Arnold’s phone propped up on the low coffee table in front of you, staring in shock at the rising viewers and the comments that pour in faster than you can read some of them.

Your jaw actually drops a bit when the viewer count hits 300.

You’re not famous. You’re not good in the spotlight. You’re awkward and you stutter over your words, you can’t get it out of your head how many people are watching you and analyzing everything you do.

You’re the new girl. The new person to pick apart.

And even worse, you’re Georgia’s girlfriend. And if the fans didn’t know about her official 6 month post, they can definitely see now that you’re more than friends.

Georgia has her arm wrapped around your shoulders, tucking you into her side- allowing you to feel like you’re hiding away from at least some of the prying eyes as you play with her other hand in her lap.

Her fingers softly work out nonexistent knots at the ends of your hair, and the comforting sound of her and KK’s laughs makes you feel a little bit calmer. You don’t quite forget that all the eyes are there, but they dull.

Another one of the girls here appears over KK’s shoulder, talking to the live, so Georgia turns to you. She presses a kiss to your forehead, keeping her lips there while she whispers softly.

It’s nice not having to worry about keeping your relationship hidden. It’s not like you wanted a secret relationship, it was actually Georgia’s idea. She wanted to make sure you were comfortable and all-in before she introduced you to the world of social media fame.

The one thing that’s not a secret, that’s never really been a secret, is how protective Georgia is.

You joke that it must be something to do with her being Australian, although you don’t really have an idea where that comes from.

She posted a few pictures of you in them, but she never tagged you, and your face was always pretty much hidden- she even posted a picture of the sunset and blocked out your face with her hand, laughing the entire time she did so at how ridiculous it was.

Even though you both knew there was no way she was taking that picture without covering your face.

Georgia didn’t want you to get spooked by how overbearing the fans could be- and she admitted that she selfishly wanted to keep you to herself. But you kinda wanted everyone to know that you were hers and she was yours.

And Georgia was always down for that.

You were trying it. And Georgia was there, at least. And you know you never have to worry about anything when she’s there.

“You okay, princess?”

“I’m fine,” you mumble back, careful not to let your lips move too much so the camera can’t tell what you’re saying.

“Yeah?” She says, squeezing your shoulder, prodding gently.

“I’m good,” you reassure her, smiling. You still feel kinda awkward, and she notices the way you look away from her.

“Are you sure, baby? Because if you’re not comfortable then I’ll end it right now. Or we can just leave altogether. We can grab food, if you’re hungry. Or just go home and sleep.”

“Hey, babe?”

“Yeah?” Her eyes are wide and concerned, her entire focus is poured onto you. Her eyes rake over your body language, her thumb rubs soothing circles into your shoulder, and your hand is caressed softly by hers.

“Stop spiraling.”

She smiles, squinting at you. “Hah. You’re funny.”

“I know I am. Seriously, though, I’m fine. I’ll tell you when I want to leave, okay?”

She’ll drag you away from this live at the first inkling of you wanting to leave. And even if you want to stay, she might drag you away anyways if she’s decided she’s done sharing.

She blinks for a long second.

“Okay, yeah. But seriously, tell me. Even if-”

“Georgia.”

She presses a quick kiss to your cheek, but when that does nothing to lift your unimpressed frown, she kisses your lips.

“Sorry?”

You roll your eyes, looking away from her as she kisses your cheek yet again, this time letting her lips linger. She’s about to say something, you can tell- probably jokingly beg for forgiveness, but you can’t help but notice KK’s side eye in the camera.

“Yes, KK?” You ask with a smile.

She crosses her arms and pouts. “Some of us are single, you know.”

“Awww,” the other girl coos, wrapping her arms around KK’s shoulders. “Is little KK feeling a little lonely? Does little baby need a hug?”

“Man, get off me,” KK says, still with a pout on her face, eyebrows furrowed. She props her elbows onto the coffee table while the rest of you burst into laughter at her antics. “Anyways. Y’all got any questions or anything?”

Georgia’s arm falls down from your shoulders to your waist, her nails lightly scratching your side.

“Who is the new girl?” KK reads off of the screen. “Y’all so rude, damn. This is Y/N, my new best friend and love of my life.”

You laugh, awkwardly waving to the screen.

“Y/N who are you?” KK reads another awkwardly worded comment.

Georgia makes a face and squeezes your waist, silently telling you that you don’t have to answer.

“Who am I? Um… I’m Y/N, I’m twenty-two, I’m in college right now…” You trail off, trying to think of something interesting to say. “My favorite color is pink?”

“Girl why was that a question?” KK laughs.

“I don’t know what to say!” You exclaim, gesturing to the phone. “There’s- oh, my God there’s 856 people on here. Why are you like really famous? Holy shit.”

“Thank you,” KK smiles, twirling a piece of her hair.

Georgia puts her free hand on the side of your face, angling you towards her as she narrows her eyes at the camera.

“She is also my girlfriend. So don’t get any ideas.”

“Girl, I think they can tell,” KK laughs, gesturing to the way you and Georgia are practically glued together.

Georgia shrugs. “I love my girlfriend.”

“We can tell.”

The comments immediately flood in. Some of them are talking about how cute the two of you are, a few of them are obvious jokes about you stealing everyone’s wife, but the one that sticks out to you isn’t anything like that.

wbblvr552022 THAT is georgia amoore’s gf? does she need her eyes checked 😭

You swallow, but thankfully there are so many comments pouring in that no one else seems to catch it.

“When’d you guys meet?” KK reads. “Oh, Q and A time, guys.”

Georgia immediately breaks out into a wide smile, contagious, one that makes you smile too.

She squeezes your waist in excitement before immediately launching into a dramatic retelling of her seeing you with your friends after a game, then her subtle way of inviting you to the next game in the set, then her subtle way of getting your number.

“And… the rest is history.”

KK laughs at the corny phrase, and you can’t help but smile either.

You lean forward to read more comments. “Oh, Georgia- what is your favorite thing about me?”

Georgia immediately presses her mouth into a line.

KK exaggeratedly turns towards the two of you, waiting patiently for an answer. “Don’t be shy, girly. I’m excited to hear this one.”

“I don’t think I should answer,” Georgia says, grimacing slightly. “Feels like a trap.”

“Well, there’s definitely wrong answers.” You pat her cheek with a smile. “C’mon, give it a try.”

“Umm… everything.”

You hum, pretending to think about it. “I’ll accept it.”

“What?” She asks, her eyes wide. “What the fuck is the right answer, then?”

You press your finger to her lips, shushing her. “Don’t worry about it, babe. You’ll get it one day.”

She rolls her eyes, but kisses the pad of your finger pressed against her lips. You can’t help but smile, wondering if the camera picked up that small movement- but you also find yourself not really caring.

wbblvr552022 is it possible to have a favorite thing about y/n? girl is UGLY

user-1 @wbblvr552022 hey this is actually insane!

user-2 @wbblvr552022 wtf is wrong w u?

You frown.

You can’t keep the look off of your face, you can’t help the sudden tightness in your chest and the thoughts facing through your mind.

Why are they so mean? What did you ever do to them? Are they just jealous? Or are they just right?

Do you deserve Georgia?

KK, surprisingly, is the first to notice your frown in the reflection. Her eyes meet yours, and she doesn’t say anything for a second.

She subtlety covers her mouth with her hand.

“You good?”

You’re really thankful that Georgia has suddenly turned away from the two of you to talk over her shoulder with a few girls behind you. You don’t even know their names, you don’t even care.

You smile in response.

You grab Georgia’s free hand, and she automatically tightens her arm around your waist. You tuck yourself into her, breathing in her comforting scent.

She turns back to the camera, barely even noticing the way you’re tucked into her- she’s just happy you’re touching her. You watch her smile at the camera and feel her squeeze your hand.

“Y/N’s sad?” She suddenly asks. She frowns at the screen, and your eyes widen-

user-1 y/n disappearing into georgia over there 😭😭😭

user-2 @/user-1 GOD they’re so cute i cant

user-3 y/n looks kinda sad tho??

user-1 wait you’re right y/n girl what’s wrong

You make a face and do your best to brush it off.

“I’m just tired.” You swear Georgia can hear the lie. “Thank you guys for worrying, though.” You flash the camera a bright smile and a thumbs-up.

wbblvr552022 GIRL put those chompers away 😭

user-1 @wbblvr552022 HELLO???? YALL SEEING THIS?

Georgia is not convinced that you’re okay. You can tell. She’s kinda tense against you, and she keeps looking towards the door like she’s ready to just throw you over her shoulder and leave.

She tries to meet your eyes, but you’re persistent in avoiding her, instead staring at yourself in the camera. You know that as soon as she looks at you, she’ll see it in your eyes. The bit of doubt you can’t hide.

What if they’re just right?

She suddenly squints at the camera, her eyes narrowing as she grabs it- despite KK’s protest- scrolling up as your heart slams in your chest.

“The fuck?”

The pure venom she spits those simple words out with makes KK stop trying to get her phone back.

“Georgia-” You start, squeezing the hand you’re still holding- she lets go of your hand to hold the phone.

“Sorry,” she mutters, her eyes scanning over the comments.

user-1 nice up close view i see

user-2 you got something in your nose queen

wbblvr552022 break up w your ugly ass girlfriend… cause im bored 🎶

“Are you fucking serious right now?”

“Um, hey… G?” KK starts, confused and smiling in a slightly scared way. “What’s goin’ on..?”

user-1 who the fuck is @wbblvr552022 and why have they been literally bullying y/n in the chat…

Your heart is beating so fast right now it’s roaring in your ears. Something inside of you just knows that the only way someone could get this kind of reaction out of Georgia is if they hurt you.

And as much as you hate to admit it, your heart keeps snagging on something in your chest. It does kinda hurt, as much as you want to rise above it.

Georgia hands KK’s phone back to her. She turns to you. Fuck.

“You saw those, didn’t you?”

“Georgia,” you sigh, wrapping your arms around yourself. “It’s just some random person on the internet. Yes, I saw it, but it doesn’t matter what they say, right?”

Your words sound confident and mature, and maybe if your voice could have displayed that too then Georgia would have let it go.

But you’re lying to her- and yourself.

It does fucking bother you, it does make you feel like shit- it makes you want to never go in front of a camera again.

“It’s nothing.”

You finally meet her eyes.

Maybe her being this pissed off should scare you, or concern you- but honestly? The fire in her eyes only ignites a fire inside of you. Deep in your stomach.

“It’s not fucking nothing, the fuck? No, no one gets to treat you like that. No one gets to make you sad.”

You put your hand on her face.

“Babe, it’s really sweet that you want to protect me, but you’re just gonna drag it out and make it worse, yeah? Okay? I appreciate it and I love you, but it’s okay.”

She looks away from you, trying to take a deep breath that sounds more like a pissed-off huff, and your heart is still fucking snagging on something-

“You love me, right?”

You blurt it out before you can even think, all small and insecure, chasing her love and affection that you know you have. At least, you should know you have it. But it’s like something inside of you screaming that you just need to hear it, that she loves you, and you know you’ll regret it forever if you don’t hear her say it right now.

“Fuck this,” Georgia says, practically hissing the words.

She sticks her hand out and KK- who sweetly has been doing her best to not listen to the conversation- gives the phone back.

Georgia props the camera up again, angling it so it’s only on her.

“I’m not fuckin’ playing, okay? I don’t know what the fuck is your problem, but I will literally kill you if you keep saying shit about my girlfriend.” She laughs dryly, but everyone knows there’s nothing funny about the look in her eyes and the conviction in her words. “Don’t talk about her, don’t think about her- don’t worry about my girl, she’s good with me. Worry about yourself when I fucking find you.”

She lets the phone fall back onto the table, crossing her arms, and you can tell that there’s still thoughts racing through her head.

KK slowly grabs the phone.

“Well… y’all heard her. I think it’s time to go, though… so, bye-bye girly-pops!”

She presses a button and closes her phone, and you watch the screen turn to black.

“Well,” you start, looking between Georgia and KK. “That was… something!”

Georgia sighs, itching her nose. “Sorry, baby.”

“Excuse?” KK asks.

Georgia barely cracks a smile. “Sorry, KK.”

“So… uhm… what the fuck happened?”

Georgia gestures towards the phone, huffing. “Someone was talking shit about Y/N. Like, calling her ugly, I- fuck.” She takes a deep breath. “Yeah.”

“Man, really? I’m sorry, Y/N- I would have blocked them if I saw it.”

You smile. “It’s not your fault, K. And it’s not that big of a deal, really. I mean, it sucks, but whatever. I should get used to it, right?”

Georgia laughs. “No. I am never posting you again. I’m never letting you be in a live ever again. They can’t treat you right then they don’t get to see you.”

KK makes a face that forces you to stifle a giggle. “Okay, Ms. Possessive-and-Controlling.”

She smiles. “Is that a bad thing?”

Your cheeks suddenly feel hot, because it’s really not. And you know Georgia is mostly speaking out of anger- she’s not really gonna keep you hidden from the world of social media. She might, for a week or two, but then she’ll probably forget.

“It’s been a lot of fun, KK, but maybe Georgia and I should go home..?”

Suddenly, she has the biggest grin on her face.

—-

Laying with Georgia in your comfy bed, wrapped in comfy blankets, shrouded by darkness with her chest as your pillow is probably where you feel safest. Nothing can reach you here. Social media or physical, you’re completely safe in her arms and the darkness.

“Happy?” You mutter into the darkness, smiling as you think of how mad she was just an hour ago.

“I’m really bloody happy, actually.”

“Very long night of sharing me, huh? Poor baby.”

“I agree,” she yawns. “We shouldn’t ever go out again. We should just stay in this amazing bed.”

“Okay, baby,” you mutter with an eye roll, humoring her.

“Y/N,” she says after a blissful moment. You can hear it in her voice. The concern, the hesitation. “I love you. I love you so much sometimes I’m kinda convinced you put a spell on me. Like, it shouldn’t be possible to love someone this much.”

You smile.

“I’ve caught you in my web,” you tease. “But you walked right into it.”

“Yeah, I did,” she laughs. “But I love you. You shouldn’t have to question that. I’m not doing my job as your girlfriend if you do.”

She kisses your forehead.

“All I want is for you to be happy… right next to me, though.”

You sit up, placing your hands on her chest as you swing one of your legs over her waist.

“I don’t have any plans of leaving. Do you?”

Her hands immediately move to rub up and down you thighs.

“Nope. Also, I change my mind. I want you to be happy on top of me. Or under me, I’m not picky.”

You laugh, leaning down so you can kiss her nose. You hands work out knots in her perpetually tense shoulders.

“Always thinkin’ about sex,” you mutter.

“Always thinkin’ ‘bout you,” she corrects. “And fucking you.”

You’re about to kiss her when she suddenly pulls back.

“You’re sure you’re good?”

You smile at her sweet concern for you.

“Yes, Georgia, I’m good. I mean… I felt kinda shitty for a second. Doubting that I was good enough for you- it’s silly. I know I am. And I’m… trying not to care about what they think.”

She brushes some hair behind your ear, nodding.

“You know I love you, right?” She smiles when she says it, because both of you know she tells you and shows you possibly too much.

“I know you love me,” you smile, your lips ghosting over hers. “I love you, too, my basketball star.” You press a kiss to the corner of her lips- then her chin, and you’re about to kiss her neck-

“As sexy as that is, I still want to show you how much I love you. You doubted I loved you today. We can’t have that happening.”

She sits up, and you sit back on your heels, rolling your eyes. “I know you love me. It was a millisecond, babe-”

Her hands squeeze your waist.

“Why don’t you just shut your pretty mouth and lay on your back?” She kisses your neck, that one special place that only she knows to kiss, the place that she found by loving you and now covets like treasure.

A moan immediately spills out of your mouth.

“I can do that,” you breathe, reveling in the way her hands feel as she helps you lay back.

“I know you can, baby,” she smiles. “Be a good girl, now, yeah? Let me love you.”

You’re really fucking glad that you caught this girl.

—-

#georgia amoore #georgia amoore x reader #georgia amoore x you #georgia amoore x fem #wbb x reader #wbb fanfiction

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slytherinshua · 9 months

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CHERRY BOWS

genre. fluff. cheol as a dad. warnings. toddler/parent stuff. cheol gets jelly. pairing. husband!scoups x wife!reader. wc. 1k. request. request by @blue-jisungs: you asked for soft hours n i shall give!! it’s been in my mind for a hot while actually but i’m too busy rn to do it myself… and you’re the perfect person bc U MADE ME THINK IF TJAT 🫵🫵 jealous dad seungcheol :( ofc he loves u n ur kid but give him some attention too smh >:T and requested by anon: i love your svt as dads!! they’re all so cute and i’d like to request one for cheol! a/n. i love love love dad cheol omg :( my second dad fic for him hehe <3 hes so girl dad coded and SOOOOO ADORABLE SKDJKS I LOVE HIM!!!!

“You ate without me…?” Cheol’s sleepy mumble was the first thing you heard from him. He had tiredly trudged downstairs when he had woken up and you weren’t next to him in the bed. It was already a bad start to the day when that happened, and he was frowning and pouting and generally sulking about it by the time he found you.

He wrapped his arms around you from the back, trapping you in the middle of the living room so you couldn’t continue without giving him the attention he needed. You smiled at his clinginess and deep raspy morning voice, but scoffed at how baby-like he was in the morning. Sometimes he acted even more like a child than your actual child.

Eunha was your now 2 year old daughter. She was adored by everyone and constantly doted on. She could be a handful at times, but only because she had started to take after your bossiness and knew exactly how to appeal to Seungcheol. If she ever wanted something, all she had to do was look at them with those big boba eyes that she got from him, and he’d be folding.

He loved her more than anything. Probably even more than you, but you were okay with it. It warmed your heart how much he cared for his daughter. He’d die for her in a heartbeat without a second of hesitation. You were learning more and more every day the love a father could hold for his children. You had expected this attitude when you married him, of course. Because you knew him and you knew how caring he was. He was so filled with love for people and the world, and you were so lucky to have him.

Starting a family had always been a dream for both of you, and Eunha’s birth had been your biggest blessing. It was challenging to take care of a toddler, but you and Cheol always did your best.

Eunha was happily playing with her toy dolls after eating breakfast— the entire living room spread with her mess. It was always a constant of cleaning her toys in the evening just for her to make a new mess the next day, but you didn’t mind. It was worth it to see her so happy, and though it could be stressful to have a messy space sometimes, her happy giggles made up for it.

“Were you playing dolls with her without me as well?” Cheol asked, the pout he was wearing somehow finding its way into his tone. You giggled and he squeezed you tighter out of jealousy. He didn’t want to admit that he missed your attention being only on him, but it was true.

You were getting up earlier to feed Eunha and play with her in the morning. The sleepy morning cuddles that Cheol looked forward to every time he fell asleep next to you were becoming rarer and rarer and he felt bitter about the change. It just wasn’t the same with Eunha. It wasn’t worse, it was definitely better in most aspects, but the free time that he had enjoyed before was being sucked away by the little child.

“She wanted me to be the doctor.” You told him, explaining the dynamics of Eunha’s favourite game. She would be the mother to her little baby doll, and either Cheol or you would usually be the doctor.

“The bed was so cold without you…” He murmured, pushing his cheek against your neck. His skin was warm against yours and you leaned into him more, savouring the feeling.

“I’m sorry. You know that Eunha likes to get up early…” You whispered.

“She should’ve woken me up instead of you. Aren’t you tired?”

“A bit. Eating breakfast with her was nice, though. She insisted on having strawberries with her yogurt since she had seen me eat it like that once.” You smiled. Seungcheol pouted.

“I thought I was her favourite…” He was mostly joking, of course, but slightly hurt. He had always been susceptible to jealousy. Maybe he was a little too greedy— he loved watching you and Eunha spend time together, but he also hated being left out.

Your little moment of warm embrace was interrupted after 2 minutes, a giggly Eunha running up and clinging to her father’s leg. She babbled something about her doll and wanting to get ice cream later today, which you were sure Seungcheol would indulge her in. He spoiled her too much.

You were happy to see your husband’s pout lift up into the sweetest of grins. He picked up Eunha, holding her so that she was resting on his hip. He kept one arm around you; almost if you would run away and leave him if he didn’t. Which was probably partially true since you hadn’t cleaned up from breakfast yet.

“Give daddy a kiss?” Cheol asked Eunha, giggles ensuing amongst both of them. She leaned forward and kissed his cheek cutely and you smiled. Now that Seungcheol was awake as well, the two would be inseparable for the rest of the day— especially since Cheol didn’t have any work to get to.

The morning happily proceeded with a small second breakfast and playtime. Now that your husband was being included in every activity, he was all smiles and giggles. He liked being the centre of attention; you had discovered that fact throughout the years. He was the happiest man in the world when he knew he was making his daughter happy.

Her happiness always came first, even when it relied on Seungcheol’s hair being tied up in pigtails with little cherry-coloured bows because Eunha wanted to play hairdresser. You were almost envious of how cute he looked in them. It was impossible not to love everything that Cheol did.

Along with the bows came matching sweaters with a cherry pattern for father and daughter. One look at the two and you could easily declare them the two cutest human beings in the entire world.

↳ svt taglist: @kangtaehyunzzz,, @yeonjuns-redhair,, @ddeonudepressions,, @hannahsophie0103,, @skz-minchan-enthusiast,, @shuabby1994,, @icyminghao,, @98-0603,, @weird-bookworm,, @edensgardenn,, @wonwooz1,, @cyberpunksunwoo,, @cienlvrs,, @amara-mars

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oddinary4bts · 2 months

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Chasing Cars | ch 11.5 (jjk)

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, some chapters contain mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

☆warnings: the events of ch 11 in jk's pov

☆word count: 1.2k

☆a/n: this one made me sad :( hope you guys like it! I've purposefully not put the full explanation bc it hits better later in the story sooo sorry about that. also just a note that depression sucks and I hope none of you guys have to deal with it and, if you do, please know that you aren't alone <3

☆series masterpost

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If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

☆☆☆☆☆

Jungkook is annoyed. He’s been annoyed all day, and he really just wants to go home.

To go home to you.

“What’s got you sulking?” Jimin asks, and four pairs of eyes shoot towards Jungkook.

Indeed, they are at the restaurant for lunch, Gabrielle having joined them to eat on her lunch break from her internship.

“Nothing,” Jungkook says, grabbing his glass of water and taking a long sip.

Taehyung frowns, yet remains silent. It’s been happening a lot frequently, and Jungkook has truly, really been annoyed by it.

“Missing OC?” Jimin teases, wiggling his eyebrows and earning a punch in the shoulder by Sera.

“Shut up,” she says as Jungkook clenches his jaw.

“Will you please fucking stop with that?” Jungkook lets out, unable to keep his ire from his voice.

Jimin’s gaze widens, and then he laughs. “Why are you getting so worked up?”

“Maybe because you’ve been a little shit about this the whole week?”

“You’re aware it’s making it seem like it’s true…”

“Stop, Jimin,” Sera intervenes, her tone stern and authoritative.

The only tone Jimin ever listens to. Indeed, Jimin stops, pouting, and he mumbles an apology. Jungkook ignores it, his gaze shifting to Taehyung, and he doesn’t miss the muscle feathering under Taehyung’s skin as he clenches his jaw.

“What?” Jungkook spits, unable to help himself.

“You fucking my sister?”

Jungkook lets out a bitter laugh, his heart clenching in his chest. “Nope. You guys need to fucking leave me alone is all.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes, but doesn’t say anything. This time, it’s Ariane’s turn to talk, and she does so with a pointed glare at Taehyung.

“I thought we said yesterday that we weren’t going to talk about her anymore.”

They did. Because scenes like this one have been happening the whole trip, and Jungkook really just wants to go home. The thought sticks around all day, up until they’ve had their shares of drink back at the Air Bnb, not feeling like going out.

Maybe Jungkook’s foul mood has been contributing to everyone’s lack of enthusiasm about going out, but he wouldn’t complain. He’d much rather stay at the Air Bnb, where he doesn’t have to avoid girls coming up to him trying to flirt.

Except Gabrielle. Though it’s not like that with Gabrielle, and he knows she’s a safe space. As much as someone can be without knowing about you - he reckons his only true safe space is you.

Perhaps that’s why he ends up sitting in his room with Gabrielle while the others chill in the living room. Partly to catch up, but also mostly to laugh at the absurdity of their parents wanting them to marry, as if they ever would.

“They’re crazy,” Gabrielle repeats for the hundredth time. “Complètement fou.”

Jungkook nods. “It’s nothing new. They’ve been like that since high school.”

Gabrielle chuckles, turning her head towards Jungkook. “Is your dad still an asshole?”

Jungkook winces, because he feels like his father has only been getting worse and worse with time, finding new ways to put Jungkook through hell all the time. Though the ignoring has been better than the fights and the constant insults he’d used to receive when he was younger, if he’s being honest.

“Yup. You really think someone like him could change for the better?”

Gabrielle slightly shakes her head. “Nah. People like our parents will die as shitty as they were the day they were born.”

Jungkook likes to think that his parents weren’t always like this. That, perhaps they were just corrupted by money growing up. But then again he can’t reconcile the image of his parents being kind to the one that he knows, that he’s known all his life.

So instead, he raises his beer. “Cheers to that.”

There’s a silence as Gabrielle drinks from the wine bottle she carried to the bedroom when they left the rest of the group back in the living room. Jungkook’s thoughts trail to you, and he wonders what you’re up to right now. You mentioned you were going out with your friends - are you already with them, or are you at home thinking about him like he’s thinking about you, too?

“What’s going on with Taehyung’s sister?” Gabrielle asks out of the blue.

Jungkook freezes like a deer in headlights. And though he wishes to say everything, to tell Gabrielle about what he feels for you, he knows he can’t. Not as long as you haven’t said it’s okay to talk about it.

And not when Gabrielle would likely tell Ariane, and Ariane would then tell Taehyung.

“Not you too,” Jungkook grumbles, and he hopes Gabrielle can’t spy the blush slowly dusting his cheeks, up to the tip of his ears.

“I’m just wondering!” Gabrielle says, and she lets out a small laugh before pushing a blonde strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ve seen pictures, I feel like she would be your type.”

Jungkook makes a noncommittal sound as he shrugs his shoulders.

“So?” Gabrielle presses.

“So what?”

She rolls her eyes, laughing again. “Is something going on between you and her?”

Jungkook takes a deep breath, preparing himself to lie to the one person that he’s never had to lie to before. “No.”

Gabrielle remains silent, the weight of her gaze on his profile heavy, and then she sighs. “Then, can I ask for your help?”

He stiffens. “What for?”

He knows what to expect - it’s the same as back when they were in high school, and she’d needed his help more than once then. Though he’d used not to mind, this time he hates it. So much so that he gets up, heading towards the door.

“Please,” Gabrielle says, stopping him with a hand on his wrist. “S’il-te-plait, Jungkook.”

“No,” he reaffirms, turning to face her. He thinks of you, thinks of the last time he kissed you, and wishes he was with you right now. “I can’t do this again.”

“Just this once,” she insists. “And then I will never ever ask that of you again.”

He thinks of the years. He thinks of Gabrielle defending him when his father insulted him during a dinner, or that time at the charity. He thinks about every night they’d fallen asleep in the same bed dreaming about a day where they wouldn’t have to worry about their family’s influence anymore. He’d thought she’d be okay now, independent as she was, but it seems she hasn’t escaped the pressure of her family yet, much like him.

“Gaby, I really can’t…” he trails off, scanning her features, hoping that she’ll understand, that she’ll know you are in his life and would never do something like that to you.

“Please,” Gaby says, her gaze begging.

He hates himself. He always has, more than he’d ever care to admit, but Jungkook hates himself too much for what he says next.

“Just this once.”

It’s like the universe was planning for this to happen anyway. Indeed, there’s laughter behind the door, and Gabrielle immediately grabs his face, pulling him down into a kiss. Jungkook closes his eyes, tells himself that you’ll understand, that he won’t lose you.

When Gabrielle pulls away, looking just as uncomfortable as him, Jungkook whispers, “Don’t ever fucking do that again.”

It’s easy, after, to pretend that the tears in his eyes are caused by Gabrielle. Even as Taehyung claps him on the shoulder as if to congratulate him, Jungkook doesn’t have to hide how much he aches from the inside out.

Gabrielle leaves, and Jungkook goes to bed right away, wishing to be able to skip time until he can see you again.

Until he can prove to himself that he hasn’t lost you.

Read chapter eleven here!

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:((((( i hate myself for hurting the babies so much.. please come scream at me

#chasing cars ch 11.5 #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #jungkook #jjk smut #jjk angst #jjk fluff #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk fic #jjk #jeon jungkook #btswritersclub #chasing cars #chasing cars series

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tiamathh · 2 months

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How do they Remember You?

Note: Hi!! I'm back with another PAC :P Hope you like it! Please Like, Reblog and comment, if you do/if it resonates. Btw some of the likes are tough so like goodluck T_T. DO NOT REWORD, STEAL, PLAGIARISE, REPOST MY WORK!!

1 -> 3

Masterlist <3

Pile 1

Hi Pile 1! Okay, you may not have had the cleanest break with whomsoever you are asking about. To begin with, this person remembers you as a bad lesson in their life I'm getting "bad news", they remember you as someone who was very blocked and stunted creatively and intuitively, someone who is not that passionate or fun and is very hesitant to do anything or even interact with them. Damn, this person has a bone to pick, they think you moved on from them too fast and don't know who you are. They remember you as someone who wastes not only money but also your talents and your potential, and when they reminisce they think you were overly infatuated with them not necessarily romantically, just in a clingy way I got, "for someone this clingy you sure moved on fast" oof.

They were definitely hung up on you for longer than you thought about them post leaving or the falling out happening. They remember you as a hopeless romantic who could easily get swept off their feet, may think you are "easy" ew I don't like that word that's mean asl. They could also remember you as someone who gives up easy and is very weak or timid about their beliefs and views, someone who can't stand their ground.

I am also feeling a burning in my chest (not a heartburn) but this person has strong STRONG feelings either one of you could have strong fire energy too, but you are kind of etched in their memory for better or for worse. I am also getting "barren field" if this is relevant for anyone, like you burnt everything they had and then just left them with nothing. They do remember you with good characteristics too I'm getting, thinking you were grounded and humble and stable with your career, knowing what you want and being thoroughly planned out.

Pile 2 (Fun fact while typing 2 I accidentally typed W which is exactly what this pile is)

Hello pile 2, this person thinks the World of you, whoever you are asking about, you made a very big and positive impact on their life and how they were shaped. Your image in their mind is one of royalty, they hold you in high regards still and remember you as a mother figure, someone warm and welcoming, who was there for them when others were not, someone with overflowing femininity and warmth who had the beauty to match it, I see someone with beautiful shiny hair that sways as the light hits it just right.

They remember you as someone who not only had a lot of luck, but also someone who brought a lot of joy and love with you wherever you went, they remember you as a karmic connection to them, destined to happen and end but some of the best moments they may have in life, I heard "taught me how to love", I'm kinda tearing up randomly, they may miss you a lot, especially your smile and your eyes.

They also remember you as someone who held a lot of power and resources, someone who had the ability to anything they want, like a jack of all trades kinda person. Not only that but, they remember you as a master manifestor, you create your own life and helped them realise what they want in life too. Whenever they are thinking or remembering what you are like, they cannot help but attach themselves to it as well it's like they cannot see you without them, they still feel a deep attachment and deep love towards you.

Pile 3 (Sighs...goodluck)

Pile 3, this person feels so wronged by you. Like they remember you as someone who used them and manipulated them, someone greedy and untrustworthy, I also heard "slimy" they could think you tricked them into something and remember you as someone who tried to blame your failures and lack of success onto the world rather than looking inwards.

Oh, this is so bad, they think you were a disappointment and burdened yourself with responsibilities you did not have the ability to handle, which led to your "demise". When they reminisce about you, they sense that you did not see something through with them, like you were supposed to complete something with them, but you left in the middle, and they are very bitter about that.

They remember you as someone greedy as I mentioned earlier and someone who used them for their money till you got into a better position and left them, that you did not wait for them. They remember you as someone who they wanted to treat as an equal, but could not because you held more power over them than they did over you. I am sorry Pile 3 this is all I can channel from them, the energy is very negative.

#pick a card #pick a card reading #pick a pile #tarot #tarot reading #tarot cards #tarot readings #tarotblr #tarot community #pac #pac reading #intuition #intuitive readings #intuitive

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thriftedtchotchkes · 9 months

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you're a mean one, mr. miller

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: you and ellie decide the solution to joel's grinch-like approach to the holidays lies in finding him the perfect gift

warnings: jackson era, grumpy old man!joel, significant other!reader, fluff, mild angst, gift giving, christmas at the miller's, so many polaroids

word count: 3.8k

12 days of pedro masterlist - ty to @hellishjoel for organizing this project <3

The Miller household always gets a little tense around the holidays. When the days shorten and snow begins to fall, Joel throws himself into patrols and plans for winter-proofing Jackson, and it's all he'll talk about for months. It's obvious he does it on purpose.

Christmas is basically an unspoken no-no under his roof, and there might as well be a swear jar for the word if his reaction is any indication. He refuses to acknowledge it and only tolerates the day itself because he knows it makes you and Ellie happy.

You just wish it made him happy, too. You know it used to. Every year, Tommy regales stories about their Christmases in Austin as kids, and later with Sarah. Joel loved Christmas.

They used to visit the tree farm, pick the tallest, fullest tree they could fit in their living room, and decorate it the very same day. Their attic and even parts of their garage were home to lights and tinsel in every color you could think of, and ornaments Sarah brought home from art classes and the yearly holiday fair at school.

All of that changed after the outbreak. It wasn't just her passing that did it. It wasn't even the threat of death or worse lurking around every corner. It was time.

Joel just got used to life without it. After 22 years of missed holidays, he decided he didn't actually miss them at all. He couldn't afford to spare precious resources or energy on anything that wasn't necessary for survival. But that isn't the point of Christmas, is it?

You celebrate your loved ones and their joy. You celebrate life. Here in Jackson, he finally has all of that, but if Joel is anything, he's a stubborn man set in his ways. You can tell he's still resistant to the idea because he genuinely believes there are better uses for his time.

You can also tell he's afraid to let his guard down. You just haven't figured out a way to show him he doesn't have to be. No one's safety is guaranteed in the world you live in, but you're protected now. And that responsibility isn't solely on him anymore.

If you could give him anything for Christmas this year, it would be peace. One day, even just a few hours of tensionless shoulders and a wrinkle-free brow would be a gift for all of you. He deserves to enjoy something merry and cheerful again, just for the sake of it.

So, you ask the person who knows him best in the world for help.

"What do we think about getting Joel a Christmas gift this year?"

Ellie glances up from her guitar with the most incredulous look you've ever seen on her face.

"Depends. Do you have a death wish?" she jokes, draping her arm over her instrument so she's sitting more comfortably. She's settling in—you both know this is about to be a painful conversation.

"No, but—," you sigh, leaning against the door behind you. It's still chilled, even through your coat, from when you barged into the shed and interrupted her practice. "I don't know. He wouldn't make that big of a deal, would he? It doesn't have to be anything flashy, just something small. Something nice."

"So, you wanna get Joel something nice for a holiday he hates? That makes total sense," she says, rolling her eyes.

You don't appreciate the sarcasm, but you expected it. She knows as well as you do that Joel won't be thrilled by the gesture, if he even accepts it.

"El, come on. I could really use your help here," you try to appeal to the part of her that usually can't say no to you, and thankfully she's starting to cave. "If there's anyone who can come up with a present Joel will actually like, it's you."

She sighs. Her fingers drum an arrhythmic beat on the wood grain while she thinks, a habit she must've picked up from Joel.

"Look, Joel's not really a 'thing' kinda guy," she replies, and she's probably right. He's never been the kind of guy who has physical attachments. "When's the last time he actually gave a shit when something broke or got lost? Even his watch is broken."

"Yeah, but that's different. You know it's different," you counter softly. But you can see the point she's trying to make. "Okay, so we don't get him a 'thing'."

She nods, waiting for you to offer another idea, but you're even more stumped than you were when you got here.

"Maybe you can draw him something?" you grimace, grasping at straws now.

"His house is full of shit I've drawn," she deadpans. "Plus, I thought this was an us gift. That sounds like a 'me doing all the work' gift."

You let out a frustrated groan, and your head thunks dully against the door. You knew this wasn't going to be an easy task, but you thought it would at least be possible. Joel's a complicated man—it's one of the things you love most about him—but his wants and needs are surprisingly simple.

He loves a home-cooked meal, especially meat and potatoes. He enjoys cold beers with Tommy on the porch during the summer and walking Ellie through complicated picking patterns when she's stuck on a song. He likes relaxing on the couch and watching old Westerns or cheesy action movies, and craves your body, soft and pliant, under his after a frustrating day on patrol.

But you want this to mean more than any of that. A special something that goes beyond the norm to loosen some of the springs that keep him wound up tight and constantly in motion.

You glance around Ellie's space as your hope begins to dwindle, and the corkboard above her bed catches your eye. It's always been there, covered in doodled-on scrap paper and photos of her family and friends, and you're positive you've seen it hundreds of times since you've been in Jackson. But this time, it gives you an idea. The idea.

"That Polaroid camera you found in Eugene's basement—the one in the library. Does it work?"

Ellie's brows furrow at your sudden question. She clearly didn't expect it, but you're hoping she'll be on board once she finally catches on.

"Uhh, yeah, Cat and I were messing around with it the other day. Worked pretty well for us," she replies hesitantly, pointing at the entertainment console next to you. "It's next to the PlayStation."

Humming in response, you squat in front of the shelf to inspect it. It's in great condition, even better than you expected. Even the flash button lights up and whirs just like you remember.

Before she can protest, you whip around and snap an extremely candid, brightly lit photo of her. If the look on her face is the same one you just caught on film, then you're already off to a great start.

"Dude, what the fuck? What was that for?" she groans in annoyance, blinking the bright spots out of her vision.

"A scrapbook," you grin. "For Joel."

She's still glaring at you as she rubs her eyes, but she bites back whatever retort she was about to say. You watch her expectantly as she chews on the idea, relief blooming in your chest when she finally nods.

"I guess that could work," she says slowly, still thinking over the logistics in her head. But then she frowns. "When exactly did you plan on taking all those photos? Not to be a downer, but Christmas is in like, a week."

Damn, she's right again. It'll be hell in a handbasket to fill an entire scrapbook in that amount of time, and even if you manage it, it'll be a half-assed attempt at best.

No, if you're going to do this, then you're going to do it right. No rushed or slapstick presents for the man who already hates Christmas—Joel deserves better than that.

"What if we let Joel do his bah-humbug thing one last time? That's probably his idea of a perfect gift, anyway. Then next year, it'll be this," you hand her the fully-developed Polaroid.

It shows Ellie hugging the guitar Joel made for her, but there's no sign of the shocked annoyance that followed the camera flash. Instead, she's smiling. She has that rare, unguarded expression on her face, the one reserved only for people she trusts. It's a tender moment of peace, forever frozen in time.

She looks up at you, and you can see it in her eyes. She gets it, now.

"You do realize it's still a 'thing' present though, right?" she interjects playfully, and you have to resist the urge to grab the wood polishing cloth on the table next to you and swat her with it.

"Yeah, but it's a sappy thing. Admit it, Joel's a huge sap and you know it. You said it yourself, his house is basically a glorified fridge with your art magnetized to the walls."

She rolls her eyes again, but you can see the smile tugging at her lips. She knows it's true.

"So, you'll help me?" you ask, daring to hope that she'll agree.

"As long as you don't pull this shit again, I'll do whatever you want," she lifts the Polaroid, shooting you a dirty, but affectionate look before handing it back to you.

A grin breaks out across your face, and you bolt across the room to hug her awkwardly around the instrument still sitting in her lap. She places it down so she can wrap her arms around you properly.

Physical affection has never really been Ellie's thing but if you catch her at the right moment on the right day, you might get lucky. Today, you do.

"So, when do we get started?" she asks, pulling away.

"Right now," you reply, unable to contain your excitement. For the first time in over two decades, Joel Miller might actually have a merry Christmas, and that's something to celebrate.

"Now?" she gapes at you, looking over her shoulder longingly at her guitar as you drag her out of the shed. She barely has enough time to grab a coat before you're out in the cold with nothing but each other, a camera, and a plan.

"Now."

ONE YEAR LATER

Jackson in the spring is one of the most beautiful things you've ever seen, even among your memories of the world pre-outbreak. Snow remains on the mountain peaks in the distance, but the foliage below blooms with the promise of warmer weather. Somehow, you managed to capture it all—fresh flowers in the shop windows, friends and neighbors shedding their coats and congregating in the streets, and the post-winter excitement that spreads more and more with each sunny day.

You hid the stack of photographs in an empty jumbo box of tampons in the hall closet, positive they’d be safe from Joel’s prying eyes while you and Ellie continued your mission.

In the summer, two new foals were born, and Ellie and Maria spent almost every day at the stables to help out where they could. They even named them—Shimmer was Maria’s choice, and Ellie named the other Callus just to piss off Joel. Not only did it work, but it resulted in some of the cutest pictures of the season.

Joel and Tommy built a porch swing for Maria and their rambunctious toddler and spent countless balmy nights drinking Tommy's extra-strength whiskey and shooting the shit. They even broke out their guitars every so often and managed to bully Ellie into playing with them once or twice. You caught that on camera, too.

Slowly but surely, the memory box filled up, and the photos were transferred to a scrapbook you and Ellie made yourselves—with a little local help. One of the school teachers happened to be a former librarian with a bookbinding hobby, and graciously gave you a treasure trove of old, tattered books that were perfect for your project.

By autumn, everything was falling into place. Ellie adorned those pages with painted leaves in shades of red, orange, and yellow to complement the photos you took at the town’s annual Harvest Festival and Thanksgiving potluck. You hopped around from booth to booth, table to table, and thanked your lucky stars that Eugene was a hoarder and held onto every pack of film he found over the years.

Now, it's the night before Christmas and you have a single shot left. One last photo intended for the final page, but you can’t think of anything you haven’t already documented. Looking around Tommy’s living room, there are plenty of moments you’d love to capture, and yet none of them feel like the moment.

How the Grinch Stole Christmas plays in the background while you sit on their couch, curled into Joel’s side with Ellie’s head on your lap, but you’re barely paying attention, still lost in your thoughts. Joel isn’t paying attention, either—he was unsurprisingly averse to the movie to begin with—so when you don’t laugh along with everyone else at the Grinch’s antics, he immediately knows something’s up. He kisses your temple, careful not to jostle Ellie.

“What’s got you so in your head you’re not even laughin’ at Jim Carrey? I thought you loved this movie,” he murmurs against the shell of your ear. His familiar Southern twang somehow warms you up more than the fireplace crackling next to the television.

“I do. I think I’m just getting a little sleepy, is all,” you reply softly, sagging into him. “Winter dance prep sucked this week. It’s like everyone conveniently forgot they volunteered to help.”

He nods, mumbling an apology into your hair.

“Guess that makes sense. All that runnin’ around you’ve been doing with that camera of yours probably ain’t helpin’ either,” he says offhandedly, and your brows furrow in response.

It’s not the first time he’s mentioned your sudden interest in photography, but with his gift sitting less than 10 feet away under Tommy and Maria’s Christmas tree, it seems more than a little suspicious. You catch Ellie glancing up at you in your peripheral, and you meet her gaze as discreetly as you can.

“Yeah, maybe,” you laugh it off, hoping it doesn’t sound as tense to Joel’s ears as it does to yours.

“What are you doin’ with all of those photos anyway? I swear, you take ‘em and then they disappear into thin air,” he presses on, none the wiser.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” you joke, shaking your head as if that’ll shake off all of his incoming questions. But it doesn’t work nearly as well as you hoped.

“Y’know, I was wonderin’ that myself,” Tommy interjects from the recliner to your right. “You’ve been takin’ photo after photo for almost a year, and I don’t think I’ve seen a single one.”

Maria scoffs next to him, coming to the rescue before you’re forced to come up with a believable explanation.

“Mind your own damn business,” she smacks him in the chest, then shoots you a sympathetic look.

You asked for her help not long after you and Ellie started planning Joel’s gift, so she knows how important this is. The last thing she’s going to do is let her husband’s need to stir the pot ruin it. But Tommy’s not the type of guy to give in that easily.

“I’m just sayin’, might be nice take a look at ‘em. You probably got some good ones of the kids in there, ‘specially from birthdays and holidays—,” he manages to get out before Ellie cuts him off.

“Can you guys have this conversation somewhere else? Some of us are actually trying to watch the movie,” she sits up from her spot on your lap to glare in his direction.

Then, Tommy abruptly stands like something just occurred to him and strides across the room to the mantle above the fireplace—right where you set the camera down earlier. Your heart leaps into your throat.

“Hold up. This thing’s still got one shot left, don’t it?” he asks excitedly, and you’re not sure how to shut him down without drawing too much attention to yourself or sounding mildly hysterical.

“Well, yeah, but—“

“Oh shit, s’got a timer and everythin’,” he continues, fiddling with its limited settings. He turns back towards the rest of the group and holds up the camera with a grin. “C’mon, everybody get together. We’re takin’ our first official Christmas card photo.”

“But, Tommy—,” you try again, but you’re drowned out by Joel’s sad attempt to leave the room.

“Look, I said I’d watch the movie, but I sure as hell didn’t agree to take a damn Christmas photo,” he grumbles, moving to stand, but you latch onto his flannel before he gets too far. He softens at your downtrodden expression and settles back in.

“Just to be clear, m’doin this for her, not for you,” he amends his previous statement gruffly, throwing an arm around your shoulder. You kiss his cheek gratefully, and Ellie pretends to gag as she shuffles to sit between your legs.

“Whatever you say, big brother. All you gotta do is sit there and look pretty. Think you can handle that?” Tommy teases him, making one final adjustment to the camera's placement. “Alright y’all, here we go.”

He sets the timer, then runs to the couch, squishing into the only available spot between Maria and an armrest. Everyone huddles together with varying levels of smiles and grimaces on their faces while you wait for the camera to go off. Except, it doesn't.

“Wait, how long did you set the timer for?” you peer around Maria to see Tommy looking genuinely dumbfounded.

“…Does it not just go 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, shoot?” he asks sheepishly.

"Oh my god, are you kidding me?" Ellie groans, leaning back against you, and the entire couch bursts out laughing.

And in that moment, the flash goes off.

Yeah, this is the one.

The photo in your hands feels like the culmination of every memory you made and preserved in the past year. Five faces—and one tiny sleeping one—look up at you, fully developed and as happy as you've ever seen them.

Tommy and Maria sit side by side with their son in her lap, their heads thrown back in laughter. Next to them, Ellie sits between your legs, mid-knee slap, as you cackle with your chin resting on top of her head.

And then there's Joel, grinning from ear to ear as he looks on at the family he's fought so hard to protect. The family that's safe and sound, and enjoying an ordinarily special day, just for the sake of it. You can only hope that a book full of photos and everything it represents will be enough to convince him once and for all that it's the truth.

As you slide the final Polaroid into place, Joel sidles up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist.

"What's all this?" he watches curiously as you close the book and swipe your hand lovingly across the cover. Then, you pick it up and turn in his embrace, leaning back against the kitchen counter.

"A gift," you reply carefully, hugging it to your chest.

You glance over to where Ellie's still sitting in the living room, but she shakes her head and offers you a small smile, her delicate way of telling you that you're on your own. You take a deep breath before continuing.

"It's a Christmas present from me and Ellie," you explain, hoping to convey even a fraction of what this means to you. "Look, we know this isn’t necessarily your favorite day, but...we still wanted to do something nice for you."

He nods, his expression frustratingly unreadable. But then he does something unexpected.

"Y'gonna keep huggin' it or are you gonna show it to me?" he drawls jokingly, and your brows shoot up in shock.

"You wanna see it?"

His face falls, and you immediately feel terrible at the brief wave of hurt that crosses his features. You didn't mean to sound so surprised, but you didn't anticipate this easy acceptance.

"'Course I do. The two of you spent a whole year workin' on this thing, why wouldn't I?"

That grin you know he loves lights up your entire face, and you turn to place his gift back on the counter. Flipping to the first page, you step aside and let him explore it for himself.

He takes in each moment of each season slowly, running his fingers across Ellie's doodles between photos and in the margins. Spring is framed by butterflies that you're somehow just realizing are painted in all of Sarah's favorite colors.

Ellie added so many painstaking details you'd never talked about. You're not even sure how she knew something like that, but you're grateful it's there. Joel notices it too, and reaches down to take your hand, gripping it tightly for the rest of the book.

He's silent as flips through summer and fall, and when he finally reaches winter, you feel him begin to tremble beside you.

The last page sits open in front of you, the photo from earlier flanked on either side by notes from you and Ellie. As he reads, then rereads them, you can see the cogs turning. He's starting to understand why you did this—and how something as simple as a photograph isn't just a look back on a life well-lived. It's a reminder to keep living.

“This is…,” his brows furrow as he tries to find the words to express the conflicting thoughts racing through his head.

“I—I’m sorry, I didn’t get you anything," is what he ultimately settles on, but when he looks up at you, his eyes are wet. You immediately drop his hand to cup his cheeks.

"You didn't need to. I have everything I've ever wanted right here," you tell him gently, brushing away the tears threatening to fall.

You glance over at the familiar faces in the living room, the same ones looking up at you from the page below, and he follows your gaze. The tension in his body begins to bleed away the longer he watches them, and you learn the wrinkle in his brow isn't actually the permanent fixture it always seemed to be.

He reaches up to cover one of your hands with his own, and you can feel his heart racing through his fingertips. In the back of your mind, you wonder if this is the moment it happens. If his heart grew three sizes bigger today, and if he's finally ready to give himself the gift of peace.

“Merry Christmas, Joel Miller," you whisper, kissing him deeply as the sweet voice of Cindy Lou Who brings the movie credits rolling in the distance to a close.

thanks for reading and happy holidays!

dividers by @saradika-graphics

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

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blackhairedjjun · 6 months

Text

late night returns - c.yj

pairing: choi yeonjun x gn reader | genre / tropes: angst with a happy ending, actor!yeonjun x non-celebrity!reader, exes to lovers | word count: 855 | warnings: mentions of being stalked (by tabloids)

part of my 300 followers event (event masterlist)

prompt - OVER?: after a mutually reluctant (and unwanted but necessary) break-up, the sender calls/visits the receiver and tells them that they’re still in love with them. (requested by @seolis-world)

author's notes: seoli!! this ended up longer than planned, nag-enjoy ako masyado haha. your trope choice allowed me to bring out my celebrity!yj x non-celebrity!reader thoughts, which are some of my favorite hcs to think about! (also actor!yj after seeing the behind the scenes of the minisode 3 trailer haha) i hope you like this!

‘Love Like Hydrangeas’ Star Choi Yeonjun Stuns in New Red Carpet Photos “Like a Fairytale Prince”: Netizens React to Viral Photos of Choi Yeonjun

you sigh as you read the social media headlines on your phone. yeonjun does look like a fairytale prince, and you admire the embroidered details of his dark suit while zooming in on the latest batch of photos from his new movie premiere. a heaviness settles over you while you scroll through photo after photo, remembering the first time he showed you that same suit weeks before: “i look handsome, right?” he asked you, and when you said yes, he let out a soft laugh that filled your heart to bursting.

that moment in his apartment feels like a lifetime ago, and all it took was one leaked image of the two of you from a tabloid photographer making the rounds on fansites. yeonjun’s agency went overtime trying to do damage control, and it was a miracle that your identity was never revealed. but once the storm settled down, you and yeonjun sat down not in his room but at the agency office. the two of you needed to break up, you both agreed, for your safety and his 一 and with a lingering embrace and one last kiss, you left.

tears prick at your eyes and you toss the phone back to your nightstand; the clock there reads 2:16 am. you cocoon yourself in your blankets, turn to your side, and shut your eyes. you want to sleep, because at least in your dreams you can escape from reality for a little while. yet the more you wish for sleep to come to you, the more it eludes you, and the restlessness only grows worse as you turn from side to side in your bed over and over again.

buzz!

you jolt up at the sound of your apartment doorbell. you have no idea who the hell is calling for you in the middle of the night, but at least it distracts you from your restlessness.

you open the door a crack. “who’s th一”

it takes a second for you to recognize the tall man in a dark hoodie standing in front of you. the dimness makes it hard to see his figure or his features, until you realize that they look all too familiar...

you immediately you throw the door open and sink into yeonjun’s arms. you sob into his chest, your body shuddering from the force of your tears, and he holds you even more tightly as his own tears stream down his face.

“i missed you,” he says, his voice hoarse. you haven’t heard the sound of his voice in weeks, and it only makes you cry even harder.

eventually your sobs calm down to quieter tears, and when you let go of yeonjun you can still see the tear tracks running from his eyes. with your hands still in his, you tug him inside the warmth of your apartment, and there he pulls you into his embrace once more.

“how did you...” you begin, your voice muffled into his hoodie.

“i snuck out.”

“you shouldn’t have...”

yeonjun kisses the top of your head once, then twice, then again and again. his kisses are feather-light and you sigh at his touch. “i love you,” he murmurs into your hair. “i n-never stopped loving you. i don’t一 i can’t do any of this without you. i miss you so much...”

your arms are around his waist and you give it a gentle squeeze. he rubs circles down your back and you hum. his touch sends waves of calm through your body, the heaviness you once carried slowly leaving you.

you recall the red carpet photos you were just looking at and your bliss is interrupted by a million questions. does anyone else know that he’s here? what happens when his agency finds out? or when his fans find out? are you really getting back together or does he just miss you? how would you even navigate the tabloids, the endless stream of gossip? you try to bury yourself even more in yeonjun’s arms but he doesn’t miss the quickening of your heartbeat.

your thoughts are interrupted by another kiss on your head. yeonjun moves you to the foot of your bed and cradles you as you both sit there, a hand making its way through the tangle of your hair. your arms perch around his neck and you nuzzle into him.

“i’ll protect you, okay?” he says. his voice is quiet yet solemn like a prayer. “i can’t... i can’t lose you again.”

you pull away to meet his gaze and you see the same shine in his eyes that you always loved. he gazes at you with such tenderness, and behind his firm words you see the affection that underlies them. he needs you, and you need him just as much too.

“i love you too, jjunie... please don’t leave me.”

“i promise i won’t.”

you still don’t have the answers to your questions, but you’d rather leave then unanswered than have yeonjun leave you again.

#txt x reader #yeonjun x reader #txt x you #yeonjun x you #choi yeonjun x reader #kpop x reader #txt imagines #kpop imagines #yeonjun imagines #txt angst #yeonjun angst #tomorrow x together imagines #txt fic #txt fanfic #yeonjun fanfic #bhj's 300 follower event 🖤#bhj: violet's works

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thinkwosolife23 · 10 months

Text

Are you being Serious? Katie McCabe

"Are you excited for your first day, love?" Katie asked as you headed into the Arsenal Training Centre.

Today was your first day training with Arsenal. Last week, you had visited the Colony to sign your contract and complete all your media duties. You had signed to Arsenal from Bayern Munich; after spending 3 years in Germany, you had decided that it was best for your career to return back to the WSL.

Not only did you now get to play with your sister for both club and country, you were finally able to play alongside your girlfriend. Katie and you had been together for just over a year. Her playing in England and you in Germany was really difficult, you didn't get to see each other all that often, but the pair of you made it work. And now you couldn't be happier to play with her.

"Yeah, for the most part. But I am a bit nervous." A slight stutter evident in your voice.

""Hey. Look at me." Katie tugged at your hand to stop the pair of you walking along, and now your body was facing hers.

She wrapped herself around your taller form; her arms going around your waist as her head rested on your chest and your arms resting gently over her shoulders.

""You've got absolutely nothing to be nervous about. Babe, you're an incredible player, I mean your literally one of the best midfielders in the world. Despite the fact that you're worse than me on the pitch, you're like the nicest person ever."

That was true. On the pitch, you're known for your aggression and your confidence. But off the pitch, everyone tends to describe you as a teddy bear, you're quite shy and quiet off the pitch and you hate confrontation.

"You know, I love this version of Katie. All soft and sweet." You slightly laughed as you glanced down to see Katie's now, screwed up face.

"Only for you, my girl." Katie said as she quickly pecked your lips before dragging you along to the changing rooms.

Turns out, all of the other players were already out on the fields by the time you and Katie had gotten there and were ready.

So when you walked onto the field, you were immediately thrown in hugs, greetings and introductions. Obviously, you knew some of the players from England or from previously playing them.

After meeting most of the team, you finally got to your sister.

"I missed you." Leah told you as she wrapped you up in a tight embrace, her head tucking into your neck as you quickly pecked her temple.

"I missed you too."

What you hadn't noticed, was Katie sending daggers to the sight of you and Leah being so close. You weren't that close or touchy with any of the others, so why were you like that with Leah.

Throughout training, Katie's mood only worsened. You and Leah had paired up with each other, laughing at joking every couple of minutes at something the other had said. To say jelousy was getting the better of her would be an understatement. And it was clearly affecting her play AND her temper: her tackles rash and harsh, she could barely hold the ball and to top it off - Jonas was laying into her about her often mistakes.

You had checked in on her a few times, but you were either shrugged off or just simply ignored. Many of your other teammates had faced this reaction as well, it was just less intense than how she reacted to you. You couldn't understand.

Once training had finished, the team began to flood into the changing rooms and the showers. Katie having stormed off way before the rest of the team. So when you strolled in, with your sister next to you, you were met with an angry Katie sat at her cubby.

Without a doubt in your mind, you headed towards Katie before placing yourself down next to her. Your hand jumping straight to Katie's thigh.

"What's up with you, grumpy?" You jokingly questioned her, her tensed face not moving a muscle.

"Nothing!" She snapped back at you, her gaze never looking anywhere other than the floor.

"C'mon Katie, you've been off since we got here."

"Why don't you go and let the rest of the team jump all over you?"

"Excuse me?"

"Don't play dumb, Y/N. Quite acting like you and Leah haven't been all over each other." Katie's voice loud and harsh, attracting the attention of your now shared teammates, including your sister.

"Are you being serious?" Slowly, tears began to drop from your eyes. You were shocked at Katie, not only at her accusation but also at the way she was digging into you in front of your teammates on your first day.

"For your information, she's my sister!" Your voice, now just as harsh, startled Katie.

"Y/N? I -"

And with that, you stormed out of the room, heading back towards the direction of the training pitches.

Katie was stood in the changing room, now receiving disapointing and angered looks from her teammates. Her head dropped in guilt and shame as to what she had just accused you of.

"What is your problem?" Leah shouted, giving Katie a hard shove in her chest.

"I'm sorry Leah. I really didn't know." This seemed to only make Leah angrier, giving Katie another harsh shove. Alessia and Caitlin now stood inbetween the pain, preventing Leah from getting to Katie.

"I don't care if you knew or not. You've hurt her!"

"You did just accuse her of cheating in front of everyone." Alessia's voice softer than Leah's.

"On her first day." Caitlin added.

Katie didn't even reply to her teammates, she simply ran out of the room before anyone could stop her. She began her search for you, opening every door she passed before slamming it in fustration when you weren't in there.

It wasn't until she went into the gym, that she calmed slightly. Out of the window: she could see your figure sat on the floor, slumped defeatedly with your head between your knees.

She slowly made her way across the field, not wanting to startle you before carefully placing herself beside you.

"I'm sorry, love." Katie's voice soft, barely going over a whisper. Her hand reaching out to grab yours.

"I don't want to talk to you." You snapped as you pulled your hand away.

"I know what I did - " She didn't even get to finish her sentence before you cut her off.

"Do you? Really? Do you know how it feels to be accused of cheating in front of a whole team by the person you trust and love most in this world? Cause I can't remember ever doing anything even similar to that, Katie!"

"I am really sorry. I don't know what to say. Sweetheart, I love you so much and I let my mind go away with something that would never happen. I was angry and may slightly have been a bit jealous. I know that you would never cheat on me. You mean so much to me and I get so scared that i'm gonna lose you."

"You're an idiot, McCabe." Tears were still running down your face, but you still let out a tiny chuckle.

"I know I am." She reached out for your hand again, letting out a sigh of relief when you didn't pull away. Her head going to rest on your shoulder as yours rested on her head.

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

"Could I maybe get a warning next time that you're a Williamson."

#woso #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso fanfics #arsenal wfc #awfc #arsenal women #leah williamson #katie mccabe #katie mccabe x reader

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