#me earlier: why are people sending me the blue hearts

[ckret2]

Chapter 55 of human Bill Cipher finally having a little fun for the first time in over a month of captivity in the Mystery Shack:

Bill does his level best to teach Mabel everything he knows about everything as fast as possible (while Ford eavesdrops). In the process, he finally reveals something about his home dimension!

But not everything about his dimension.

"Did you have rainbows in Flatworld?" Mabel had started drawing her shapesona again at the bottom of a fresh piece of paper. The heart was holding out one hand with several strips of glue shooting in a beam out from the palm; Mabel started shaking glitter onto the glue strips to make them rainbow.

"Not natural ones."

"Awww!"

"We could make them with flashlights and prisms, though."

"That's something." Still, it wasn't as cool as a real rainbow. She started carefully drawing Bill floating above her shapesona. (She probably should have drawn him before she put down glitter. She had to push up her sleeve and lift her wrist to avoid smearing the glue.) "When's the first time you saw a real rainbow?"

Bill didn't answer.

Mabel glanced at him. He had a hard look in his eyes. "Bill?"

####

For the first time in his life, the triangle was up—up but not north—in space, in the third dimension, looking down but not south at the plane where he'd spent his entire existence. It shuddered and rippled and cracked, contracting, as the entire universe crunched together around him.

Great walls of pale blue flame half a googol light years wide erupted into third dimensional space, where stars were caught and crushed between the quickly collapsing cosmic tectonic plates. He hadn't known his flat universe had stars of its own.

His home world shattered and crumbled, shrapnel and rubble spraying out, stone instantly pulverized into dust. Distant oceans rode the waves of the convulsing universe, flinging billions of gallons of water into space in a fine thin spray, glittering in the sunlight.

As the triangle watched, a great flickering rainbow ring formed in front of the ejected ocean, like the hollow eye of a hostile god staring at him in judgment.

He stared back.

And he felt himself fill with more and more and more power.

####

"Bill?"

"Sorry, I was trying to remember!" Bill sat back, laced his hands behind his head, and shrugged, "It's not coming to me. But I'm sure it was after I took charge of Dimension Zero. From time to time planets with weather systems would fall in through a wormhole, I must've seen a rainbow on one of them!"

"Oh." The answer disappointed her, but she couldn't quite put her finger on why. She puzzled over it as she drew a fireball shape around Bill's hands in glue and shook on pale blue glitter.

Bill nodded at the page, "So what are we up to?"

"Fighting evil! With rainbow lasers and... whatever that magic fire thing you do is!"

"Hey, superheroes! Sounds fun. Who are we killing?"

"Superheroes don't kill people!"

"Fine. Who are we sending to the hospital with third degree burns?"

"I don't know, I haven't made up a villain yet." She almost asked Bill what kind of monsters existed in his world; but the question died in her throat. That might be too depressing a question. She added a heart-shaped glue outline around her shapesona and shook on a glitter rainbow, and set the picture aside to dry. She grabbed a fresh paper and tried to imagine what a two-dimensional butterfly would look like. Would it just have flat little stick wings since that was more aerodynamic? That sounded boring. She started drawing a two-dimensional squid instead.

Bill studied Mabel's latest finished work—the glitter-outlined heart, the glitter rainbow laser, the glitter fire, and the plain him. After a moment, he casually mentioned, "I used to wear body glitter."

She blinked at him. "What?"

"Earlier you asked me about glitter in my dimension," Bill said. "Body paint was makeup to us. I wore it when I went dancing."

"WHAT!"

"And I'd cut open glow sticks to paint my arms and legs!"

"What color glitter did you wear?!"

"Usually gold."

"What?! Bill!" Mabel laughed. "You're already yellow!"

"But I didn't glitter. That's important!"

"You're boring."

"Shut up! I was gorgeous and I knew it! Why mess with perfection?!" He gestured down at himself, perfection, as though he'd momentarily forgotten what body he was in. "Listen, club fashion gets repetitive. If you've seen one equilateral in cutesy primary color gradients, you've see 'em all. There's beauty in simplicity—not a lot of shapes can pull off a solid color with a little light highlighting and still look flashy!" He'd sat up straighter, chest puffed out proudly, as he talked about how pretty he thought he'd been. "Buuut sure, sometimes I highlighted my points for fun. And to keep from stabbing people—it's hard for other people to judge distances with strobe lights on."

"What colors."

"Usually red, blue, or purple. You know—nice contrasts with gold."

Mabel grabbed another paper and started drawing Bill dancing. He leaned closer, elbows on the table, watching with more interest now. Mabel asked, "You had clubs with strobe lights?"

"Of course we did, we aren't barbarians." Bill picked up yellow and black markers out of Mabel's supplies, leaned over to her drawing in progress, and started adding a decorative border around the nearest edge of the paper in dots and dashes.

"What kind of music did you listen to?"

"It was... It's closest to the music in— You've never been to that dimension. Well, it kind of sounds like... I'll never hit those notes with human vocal cords." He drummed his fingers on the table. "Hold on. Let me get Questiony's piano."

####

It turned out that Flatworld club music sounded kind of like a broken tornado siren.

"It doesn't sound very good on a human piano," Bill said, giving the electric piano balanced on his knees a disapproving look. "The intervals between notes are tuned wrong, it's about four octaves short, and it's missing that tympanic membrane shredding tremolo when the treble jumps."

Mabel regarded the piano with some dismay. "Do you know how to play anything else?"

Bill sighed.

He played "Don't Start Un-Believing" for her. He even did that cool thing where you drag a finger up half the keyboard at once.

####

By now, Bill seemed a lot happier to answer Mabel's questions about his world; but she quickly worked out which ones he'd actually give a direct answer. He was the most free with science-y questions, hit or miss on the fun cultural questions, and instantly evasive when asked about his own life or uncomfortable political issues.

When she asked if shapes and their houses just kinda floated unattached to anything because they didn't have a home planet, Bill said they did have a home planet—hundreds of miles below, marking south by its gravitational pull—and they lived in the sky in between their planet and its rings. When she asked what kind of clothing they wore, Bill said they usually didn't wear anything, unless it was for practical purposes (gloves for gardening; goggles for chemistry; elbow-, knee-, and corner-pads for spelunking), and when she asked about his top hat he said slyly, "You mean my telescope?" and gleefully refused to explain further.

But when she asked if it was true that equilateral triangles were the lowest rung you could stand on before getting knocked off the social ladder altogether, Bill said that was a pretty rude question to ask a triangle. And then he said his world didn't have ladders.

When he casually let slip that he'd been able to see the third dimension when nobody else could, she asked how that was possible. He'd paused, looked up from his seventh completely incomprehensible drawing of an animal (she'd asked him whether Flatworlders had pets), and, with an eager gleam in his eye, he asked, "How much time do you have?"

####

Ford heard Bill's voice the moment he opened the door—"All right, star girl, pop quiz, let's see how much of that you kept in your noggin."

"Oh, I'm so ready!"

Baffled, Ford leaned in the living room doorway. The room was absolutely plastered in crayon-covered papers—illustrations, lists, mathematical and scientific diagrams—stars, cells, planets, vehicles. At the moment Bill was pointing at six papers taped together with a diagram on them that Ford thought was a Punnett square that had been expanded into a four-dimensional tessaract. "A polygon's sides are determined by...?"

"Genetic inheritance!" Mabel announced, the proud student who knew all the answers. "You have however many sides your parents have genes for!"

"And the idea that polygons increase by one side each generation...?"

"Is propaganda! Because if everybody hides their kids without enough sides, and they only talk about the kids that did go up a side, it makes everyone think that's what always happens and their family is the only one that's failing!"

"Perfect! And the highest natural amount of sides a shape can have?"

"Twelve! Decadoggins!"

"Close enough, dodecagons! But this isn't Greek class, I'll give you full points. So, any shapes with more sides than that got them through—?"

"Random mutation!"

"Correctamundo! Meaning the only way to get shapes with hundreds of sides is..."

"Crazy bonkers inbreeding! Because the same rich families just keep marrying each other!"

"With consequences including—?"

"Um..." Mabel puffed out her cheeks as she thought. "Skeletons getting all crackly, having a hard time making babies, and high—uh—infant morality!"

"Mortality."

"Lots of dead babies."

"Yes! And remember: when a mutation makes a body produce so much more of something than it needs that it starts harming the body, that's called...?"

"Cancer!"

"Meaning circles are...?"

"Tumors!"

"And what do we do with tumors?"

"EXECUTE THEM!"

"YES!" Bill ripped the Punnett tesseract off the wall. Behind it was a piece of paper that read, in blood red crayon, ANTI-MONARCHIST ANARCISM. "You're ready to man the guillotines! A+, star girl! Give yourself another sticker!"

"Yes!" Mabel peeled a sparkly purple star off a sticker sheet and stuck it on her cheek. Her face had over twenty star stickers.

Ford leaned against the living room doorframe, watching the scene inside with wonder. He was more than a little iffy about the political lesson—he, personally, was incredibly opposed to the idea that it was morally imperative to execute anybody with extra body parts, nobility or not—but the presentation of it was certainly captivating. It had been a long time since Ford had seen Bill like this. (It had been a long time since Ford would have trusted any lesson out of Bill's mouth.)

"Now let's get back to biangles." Bill picked up a fake crystal ball that he'd drawn various lines and shapes on with a marker.

"Awww, again?!"

"Hey. Listen," he said firmly. "I believe in you. You'll get it this time, I know it."

Ford looked around the room, taking in the scene more fully. The floor was scattered with drawings of aliens. A few of them were various polygons—regular and irregular, with the irregularities further broken down by whether they otherwise showed radial or lateral symmetry—each with thin limbs and an eye on a corner. Most were fantastical alien animals, a few that Ford had seen or been warned about on other worlds. Some had been scribbled out and redrawn when Bill's limited artistic capabilities didn't live up to his unknown standards; a few were in Mabel's art style, meaning Bill must have described them to her while she drew.

Twenty pieces of paper had been taped together on the wall behind the TV, with a drawing of a planet surrounded by a circular ring of small blobs—a planetary ring?—and a moon further out. The empty atmosphere between the planet and the ring was filled with squares and rectangles, which were grouped together in red blobby circles that were each labeled by letter: "Country △," "Country B," "Country C," "Country D (communists)," etc. A badly-drawn sea serpent slithered along the outside of the ring with the words "Here There Be Monsters" written over it.

A tall column of taped together papers was covered in examples of alien writing systems—some of them Ford recognized from his travels through other dimensions. From the ones he understood, it looked like the words were demonstrations of Mabel's name in dozens of alien writing systems. Sometimes Bill spelled her name Maybell or Mabelle.

And there were so many papers scattered around the room with little graphs and symbols and arrows Ford couldn't make sense of. And in the center of it all, Bill, alive, energetic, his full attention enthusiastically focused on his student.

Bill had to be up to something; but Ford couldn't imagine what, based on the bizarre assemblage of information in front of him. What nefarious purpose could be behind showing Mabel how to spell her name in alien languages? Unless his goal was to so enchant her with tales of other worlds that he could persuade her to help him open a new portal...? No, even for Bill that felt like a stretch. 

He looked at the wall again. Surely, that wasn't Bill's homeworld. Ford had spent years of his life trying to find the world Bill was from; surely Bill hadn't just drawn it in the middle of Ford's living room. Had he?

"Okay, let's start with spherical geometry from the top," Bill said, polishing the crystal ball on his leggings to rub off the marker lines. "Don't tell anyone I can do this." He held up the ball, tapped it twice on the bottom, and it hovered in place when he let it go, freeing up both his hands to hold a ruler and marker. (How long had he been able to do that? Had he even noticed Ford was standing right outside?) He drew a line across the surface of the ball, "Pretend it's a planet. If you draw a line on a sphere, it's obviously curved, right?"

"Right," Mabel said.

"But now pretend you're on the planet. The surface of the world is a flat plane to you. From your perspective, you can walk in a straight line from point A to point B."

"But it's actually a curve. From space."

"Now you're catching on. That's what makes spherical geometry a little weird: when you're on the sphere you treat everything around you like it's 2D even though when you're off the sphere you can see it's 3D." Why in the world was Bill teaching Mabel about spherical geometry?

Bill drew two more lines to connect to the first. "So! You can draw a triangle on a sphere, no problem, right?"

"Right."

"And something you can only do in spherical geometry... is... pretend this is the North Pole and the South Pole..." Bill carefully rotated the ball under his marker as he drew a straight line from one "pole" to the other, and then drew a second straight line from pole to pole next to it. "Ta-da! If a tri-angle has three angles, a bi-angle has two angles. You've got yourself a two-sided polygon. Right?"

Mabel hesitated. "Right."

"You with me so far, Shooting Star?"

"So far," she said, with a tone that suggested she expected that to change very soon.

"But if you try to transfer that shape from spherical geometry to Euclidean geometry—" Bill turned to an expanse of still partially-uncovered white papers taped to the wall like a makeshift whiteboard, drew two points, and drew two straight lines, red and blue, between the points, "—it just doesn't work. You can't see a biangle in a flat world."

And now Mabel was squinting suspiciously at him.

Bill said, "I lost you."

"But where does it go!"

Bill shrugged. "You lost it when you lost the third dimension."

"But you said when you're on the sphere it's two dimensional!"

"From your perspective it's two dimensional, but there's still a third dimension enabling the sphere to exist."

"Then from my perspective when I'm on the planet shouldn't a biangle look like that?" Mabel pointed at the two straight lines on the piece of paper. "Since everything looks all 2D to me? But it doesn't! It's like flying from the North Pole to the South Pole through America and then flying back through China! China and America don't just squish together into the same place just because you're going in a straight line on a sphere!"

"I'd kill to hear you give a geography lesson to a Flat Earther convention."

Mabel gave him her best angry scowl.

"It was a compliment! I think you'd inspire some hilarious arguments, that's all!" Bill put two dots on the paper and offered Mabel the marker. "Look, try it for yourself! Draw a biangle."

Mabel took the marker and, after a moment of thought, drew two curved lines between the points, making a football shape.

"Those aren't straight lines, kid."

"Argh!" Mabel pulled the paper off the wallpaper, bent it into a curve, and shakily drew a straight line between the two points; but no matter how else she twisted or bent the paper, she couldn't find a path that would let her draw a second straight line between the points without overlapping the first line she'd drawn. She crumpled the paper, tossed it on the floor, and whispered, "It's witchcraft, Bill."

He burst out laughing. "I could name a few horror writers that felt the same way about non-Euclidean geometry."

"But whyyy does the biangle disappear when it goes from a sphere to normal flat paper."

"Because..." Bill groped for an explanation he hadn't already tried. He crossed an arm across his chest and tapped a knuckle just under the bow tied in his hoodie's draw strings the way some humans might tap a hand to their chin, his eyes narrowed in thought. How many times had Ford seen him make that exact same face in his true triangular form, whenever Ford was struggling to understand a lesson on portal physics and Bill was struggling to find a way to translate it into concepts Ford had encountered in his human education? "Let's try this another way."

The scene made Ford ache.

Look past the paper and the crayons, and the graph- and figure- and writing-covered walls looked so much like the advanced physics lessons and blueprints that Bill had coated Ford's starry blue dreamscape in during his sleep. Look past the flesh and bone, and Bill moved and gestured and spoke the way he had when he was teaching Ford how to build a bridge between worlds.

It was the first time since Bill's death that Ford had seen 100% of his personality shining—unhindered by grief, secrets, or a disdainful human audience. It was the first time in decades that Ford had seen Bill at his best.

In that moment, for a split second, Ford forgot how to hate Bill. He couldn't see Bill the traitor, Bill the invader, Bill the homicidal party animal. The only person in that room with Mabel was Bill Cipher the Teacher, Mentor, and Muse that Ford used to know so long ago. Like an ancient god who'd chosen to spend a day roleplaying as a giddy professor—Bill was holding back a tsunami's worth of vast, ancient, unintelligible alien knowledge so that he could drip out revelations at a faucet's pace, slow enough for his student to catch each drop in her hands.

Over thirty years ago, there had been moments when this Bill peeked out behind the above-it-all façade—and that had been the Bill that Ford was happiest to see, the Bill that Ford had thought of as a friend rather than a mere teacher... but each time, it hadn't been long before Bill seemly caught himself and turned off the faucet for the night.

Because he couldn't let Ford learn too much, or he would have seen through Bill's ruse.

Hatred tiredly crept back in.

"I've got it!" Mabel triumphantly flung her hands in the air. "It's like orange slices!"

"Orange slices?" Bill repeated.

"Be right back!" Mabel zoomed to the kitchen, shouting, "Hi Grunkle Ford!" as she passed.

Ford watched her go, then looked back at Bill; Bill had glanced at him for the first time. But all he did was frown and mutter, "I don't remember inviting you to audit this course."

Before Ford could decide whether to retort, Mabel charged back into the living room with an orange and a sharp knife. "Okay! If you draw a triangle on the orange," Mabel said, doing so with a marker, before cutting into it with the knife, "and then you—you cut it out all the way to the center..."

"Be careful with that," Ford said. Mabel was holding the orange in one palm and stabbing into it from the opposite side.

Bill said, "Lay off, Six Fingers. I'm keeping my eye on her, she's not gonna hurt herself."

"I'm being careful!" Mabel was struggling to get an even wedge cut all the way to the center of the orange; she eventually gave up and  dug into the orange with her fingertips to tug out a messy mangled handful of fruit, attached to a roughly equilateral patch of orange peel about two inches to each side. She shook orange juice off her fingers. "Pretend I cut that out better."

"I dunno what you're talking about," Bill said. "It looks flawless."

She pointed at each corner of the peel triangle. "Okay so, these are the three corners of the spherical triangle, right?"

"Right."

"And if you want to make a regular flat triangle, you can... try to cut a straight line between the corners, like..." She squeezed the rest of the orange between her knees, held the edges of the triangular peel with her fingertips, and sawed off the orange pulp underneath, trying to cut a flat level plane as near to the triangle's corners as she could. Ford almost warned Mabel about the knife again, but glanced at Bill's face and his expression of unworried, keen curiosity, and kept quiet. Bill reached out and caught the sawed-off chunk of orange pulp before it hit the ground.

Mabel held out the peel slice. "There! Right? Spherical triangle on top and flat triangle on the bottom!"

Bill considered that, one hand on his hip. He popped the orange chunk in his mouth. "All right. So far so good."

"But if you make a biangle..." Mabel drew two lines between the top and bottom of the remaining orange, and cut a wedge free. "There isn't anything extra to cut off to let you make a flat shape. There's just a straight line between the two points!"

"Ha! Okay, all right, that works! Brilliant! What do you need me for? You just taught yourself the whole lesson!" Bill ruffled her hair so enthusiastically that he knocked her headband askew.

She shoved him away, laughing, and straightened out her headband. "Bill!"

"What did I say! Didn't I tell you you'd get it?" Bill was beaming at her, impressed, delighted, proud. "Congratulations, you've just mastered college-level geometry."

"Wh—What? Are you serious? This is college stuff?" She shook her head. "No way, you're lying."

Bill pointed at Ford without looking at him. "Tell her."

He felt a little like a dog being commanded to bark; but he said, "He's right. I didn't start studying spherical geometry until my second semester in college." He was sure he could have studied it sooner, if his high school had offered it; and he doubted Mabel had absorbed an entire semester's worth of spherical geometry; but he didn't see any reason to point any of that out when Mabel's face lit up in excitement.

Bill said, "There you have it! Way to go, star girl! Two big stickers."

"YES!" Mabel peeled off two jumbo-sized star stickers with smiley faces and stuck them onto her earrings. "So does that make a biangle a girl or a boy?"

And Ford was immediately lost again.

"No," Bill said.

Mabel sighed loudly and tried again. "Does that make a biangle a line or a polygon?"

"Still no, but for a different reason. Externally, they look like lines to anyone who isn't psychic. Internally, their anatomy usually functions like a polygon's. But socially, you've gotta ask. Some of 'em consider themselves lines, some polygons, some claim biangularity is neither linear nor polygonal. Personally, I say they're whatever they say they are. Because," he said grandly, "I'm just that open-minded and accepting."

Ford stifled a derisive snort. But Bill's self-aggrandizing aside, Ford's mind was reeling trying to keep up—spherical geometry, the (gendered?) socialization of shapes, Flatworlder anatomy—what did psychics have to do with anything? Ford's fingers itched for a pen. He wished he had his journal with him.

Bill grabbed several papers off the floor and the floating crystal ball and climbed on top of the wooden TV cabinet. He left the ball hovering behind him seven feet up in the air, tossed aside several papers he'd already used both sides of to let them flutter back to the floor, and taped the rest to the wall with their blank backsides turned out. "Now back to remote viewing." He drew a grid in blue lines on the papers, said, "Toss me that triangle wedge," used a marker to draw an eye on the triangular orange peel, tapped it twice like he had the crystal ball, and stuck it against the grid, where it sat unmoving.

And the entire time, Ford watched with his arms crossed tightly.

Almost a month ago, Bill had given Ford his manipulative trap of a birthday gift, a miniature grimoire, five pieces of paper, margins filled, two rows of text per line, packed with as diverse an array of magical spells and occult knowledge as Bill could fit. It wasn't a gift, it was a boast and a taunt: look at everything I know that you don't; look at what I could teach you if you let me live. 

It was something Bill could have given him all along—effortlessly, with no cost to himself—but didn't, until Bill wanted something from him. 

On his birthday, Ford had wondered, furiously: when this was what Bill could have been—gift-giver, wish-granter, teacher, guide, friend—why did he choose not to be?! It was an internal scream of rage, the howl of a wounded victim at the condemned criminal as he was marched to the gallows: you monster, you monster, you monster, when it would have been so easy for you to be something better, why instead are you a liar, manipulator, torturer, murderer, life-ruiner, world-ender? Answer for yourself: why are you this instead of someone better? How dare you?

It had made Ford want him dead even more.

This was the exact opposite of the grimoire.

The question in Ford's head wasn't a scream of rage anymore. It was grief. It was a plea. It was one last desperate attempt to understand:

Instead of being who he was, why couldn't Bill have been this person? This charismatic, energetic, ecstatic muse who ruled like a king over a classroom he'd constructed himself, eager to share a trillion years of collected wisdom with a fragile mortal mind, lighting up with joy whenever she grasped something that was trivially simple to him? This guide to the vast wonders beyond Earth, competent and encouraging and funny, delighting in the weirdness of the wide wide universe? The Bill that Ford had once liked so much—the Bill that he'd called his friend?

"Okay," Bill said, all sunshine and excitement, "Back to how to view the third dimension from the second dimension—"

Mabel said, "Can you view the fourth dimension from the third?"

Bill hesitated a split second, but said, "Sure! You can view any dimension from any dimension! You've just gotta bend your eye the right way to see higher ones!"

"What does the fourth dimension look like?"

"Well—hm. Imagine the way that the third dimension looks different from the second, and that's the way the fourth dimension looks different from the third."

Mabel stared at Bill.

"Eddie wrote an entire book about a square meeting a sphere because that was the closest he could get to telling other humans what seeing the fourth dimension is like! If I could still visit dreams, I could just show you, but..."

"Isn't the fourth dimension time? Blendo showed us the time stream! Is that what it looks like?"

"Nnn—close! You're close. The fourth dimension isn't time, but time is in the fourth dimension."

"How's that different."

Bill pointed at the floor. "If the carpet's the second dimension and the lamp's shining on it, the third dimension isn't light, but light is in the third dimension."

"Ohhh." Mabel gasped. "That's why you called some weird thing flying around in a higher dimension an eclipse! Because eclipses were in a higher dimension in Flatworld!"

Bill's face lit up in surprised delight. "All right, skip three lessons ahead, why don't you! In a week's time you'll be teaching people how my dimension works." He turned back to his papers and started drawing a branching river. "So! That time stream you saw isn't time itself! It's a visual metaphor being generated so humans can see time too—sort of a hologram projecting from the fourth dimension into the third—have I explained that the universe is a hologram yet—"

Why weren't you this person, Ford wondered. Why did you choose not to be this person? When it was so easy for you to be this? When this made you happy, too?

Why couldn't you have been this person?

Why are you only like this now, when you're about to die?

####

(Hope y'all enjoyed Infodump: The Chapter. This is one of those chapters with something hidden in it that'll unravel the whole fic if you happen to find it, so have fun searching for that. Let me know what you thought of this week's chapter! And get excited—we've got Big Things coming up... soon.)

[dipplinduo]

I can't stop laughing 💀💀💀💀💀💀

[hemmingsleclerc]

Scandal!┃CL16-MV1

I just want to say I love w all my heart charlotte so I'm not trying to hate on her, she looks very friendly but I just used her for her pics with charles

Also I had this idea on kylie and timmy's ''relationship rules rumours'' she put on him, poor timmy😭😭

instagram

f1_gossip

Liked by 183,573 others

f1_gossip According to reports, there is drama in the paddock! It all started when rumors came out of testimonies close to the couple where Aurora (Charles' new girlfriend) has imposed ''rules'' in her relationship with the driver!

"First, Aurora wanted him to cut ties with all of his exes, especially with the female driver, with whom he is still very close", Let's remember that Leclerc and Y/LN dated for almost 3 and a half years but they separated and they remained on friendly terms, before this they had been friends since childhood and the model ''did not like that'', they tell us.

comments

username girl what the fuck??

username stop, pls you're literally a ''model'' bc your mommy knew people and got u a job, on the other hand, Y/N has trained her entire life for that sport and she is super talented and has achieved all that by herself, stop embarrassing yourself.

username IF SHE MAKES SURE WE NO LONGER HAVE MOMENTS BETWEEN CHARLES AND Y/N, SHE WON'T LIVE TO TELL ABOUT IT FRRRR

ynln

Liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing and 1,845,295 others

ynln Made some great memories in Miami, had dinner w friends, and podium celebration this weekend, see u on Imola <3

lewishamilton fun night!

username I miss charles' comments on her posts 😭

maxverstappen1 🤘!!!

landonorris why wasn't I invited?

ynln bc I hate u

landonorris lol wth? I literally apologized 5 times for laughing at your pic,pls :(

redbullracing 👏👏

charles_leclerc

Liked by scuderiaferrari, aurora.official, and 1,642,795 others

charles_leclerc A little bit of blue and leo 😘👑Miami, thank you

aurora.official SO PROUD OF YOU BABY!!!😍😍

username girl okey we got it, now stop.pls

username PLS- THE WAY HE CROPPED HER FROM THE PHOTOS 🤣🤣🤣

scuderiaferrari blue suits you 🩵

username you look so good on blue cha 😭💗

cha_yn

Liked by 843,537 others

cha_yn I miss my parents, pls they were so in love 😭😭💔

username the way charlie looked at her

username my man was so deeply in love....

username she used to shine more when she was with him :(

twitter

comments

username Ok max having a crush on yn wasn't on my bingo card this year

username ok but what a great and hot couple they would both be

username I SEE IT 👀

rebullracing

Liked by ynln, maxverstappen1, and 739,539 others

redbullracing P1 and P2!!! What an amazing race for our team, very proud of max and yn!

ynln ❤️‍🩹

maxverstappen yes baby!

username did anyone saw charles' face when yn and max celebrated together??? no?? okey

f1_gossip

Liked by 429,683 others

f1_gossip Apparently after the great victory of both Redbulls, both went out to celebrate at a bar and sources claim that both were "very comfortable around each other", what do we think of this?

username nooo, I was still hoping charles and yn came back :(

username I'm here for their reputation era

username Idk if I want to be yn or max

aurora.official

Liked by charles_leclerc, herbestfriend and 284,626 others

aurora.official My baby got P3!! I'm so proud of him❤️❤️

username girl,do you at least know something about the sport?

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f1_gossip What the hell happened between these two?? In the first practice of the weekend both drivers fought! According to some fans who came today, Charles approached Max furiously while he was yelling at him and Max wasn't far behind! What could have happened between these two?

username STOP WHAT IF IT'S FOR YN!!?!??!?!

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Part2

[yuquinzel]

[ 8:37 pm ] — miya atsumu.

the clock reads 8:37 pm, exactly 14 seconds to 38 and atsumu is painfully aware of each long, dragging and excruciatingly endless second because it's been exactly 4 hours, 19 minutes and 12 seconds since you left on him read.

he's currently laid on his bed, in his dimly lit room where the only source of illumination is the faint fluorescent glow of his mobile screen.

he's frowning, brows furrowed at the dull ‘seen 4hrs ago’ in anticipation because at any second now he'll see the ‘typing...’ indication and he doesn't wanna be late to reply.

atsumu is a fast and an energetic texter. he sends you at least 14 cat videos with the “ur the third one” message immediately after each. or he sends you those ‘ask your friend which hour of the day you are’ followed by a “you. blue hour” hopefully awaiting your reply because he needs to know if you think he's the golden hour or not.

y/n 🛐: you're definitely the golden hour then lol

the better twin: damn. didn't expect that.

he actually did. hoped for it in fact. he thinks about it for the next week.

you're not the type to leave people on seen for more than 5 minutes. at least not him. you reply as quick as you can with the same energy as him and have a habit of liking his rather funny texts from time to time.

so he's more confused than upset right now, thinking of all possible reasons you could've read his messages but were unable to reply. he hasn't seen you since last friday when you told him about a week long road trip with your family. his frown only deepens when the clock hits 8:40 and there's no sign of a reply from you.

he's beginning to type a quick “are u good?” when his screen flashes with a call. your contact name. the phone rings in atsumu's hand but his fingers are frozen.

you're calling him.

you don't like phone calls.

atsumu clears his throat because he doesn't want you to hear him squeal with excitement, but he's giggling and kicking his feet, running a hand over his heart and rubbing his eyes to make sure it really is you. he lets the phone ring for a mere seconds before picking it up, “oh hey” he hopes it's as casual as he thinks.

the moment he hears you speak from the other side, atsumu knows he has lost, “ATSUMU! I'm so sorry for leaving you on read. i was in the car and battery fucking died before i could reply and i lost my charger!” you're chasing after your own words, each cut by the next one.

“oh, nah that's fine. so ya found yer charger?” he groans internally at his words, but truthfully he doesn't know what to say.

of course you didn't willingly leave him on read. of course you're calling him now because you don't want him to think otherwise. of course your words are rushed, you've always been that way.

“oh, right yeah. i got home and charged it as soon as I could” you laugh with a newfound sense of relief.

atsumu blinks, “yer home already? weren'tcha coming this sunday??” he asks.

“ohh, no, we decided to come back earlier”

and the voice call ends, leaving you confused.

it's 9:29 pm and there's a knocking at your door, hastened and impatient, the way you know someone always knocks.

“’tsumu? wait, why are you here at this hour?” you ask, wide eyes set on the setter in front of you panting like he ran a marathon.

“ya said you were back and ya must be tired so i gotcha ice cream—” he breathes out, gesturing to the bag in his hand, “—gee, coulda told me you were comin’ back today, when'd ya get here anyway? how was the trip? did ya take pictures?—”

“atsumu” you say softly, and he pauses, “breathe ”

atsumu lives about 45 minutes away, 15 if he takes the car but as he's panting right now, you know he's ran all the way here. and if he stopped by the convenience store down the street and still get here in time, you're sure he needs at least a minute to breathe.

he smiles one of his boyish, princely smiles, “also got that movie ya wanted ta watch”

“i thought you'd have watched it already?”

“wanted ta watch it with you” he's giggling with excitement you know he's trying to hide.

“okay” you laugh, grabbing his hand to pull him inside.

“okay” he repeats.

© yuquinzel2023 [ plagiarism is a violation of moral rights ! ]

[lipglossanon]

Mythical/Supernatural Being

vampire!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader - NSFW

warnings: 18+ minors DNI, biting, blood kink, technical monsterfucking 😜, unprotected sex, creampie, oral (f receiving), gaslighting, mind/memory wipe, coercion, noncon

not proofread ✌️

You’re at a party when he catches your eye. Mindy, your co worker, decided to have a little costume party that now seems to be out of her control with people from all over showing up to her house. 

It explains why this man you’ve never met, but feels familiar, seems to be checking you out. He’s pretty in a handsome sort of way, strong cheekbones and very serious blue eyes. You shoot him a smile when your eyes meet and he tilts his head, a curious and bland look on his face. 

Feeling like you may have read the room wrong, you offer an awkward smile and a shrug before turning and making your way into the, surprisingly, empty kitchen. 

“Hello.”

A man’s voice speaks behind you making you jump in place before turning around, clutching the base of your neck. 

“Jeez, you scared me,” you laugh nervously, “uh, h-hi.”

The man from earlier stands just a foot away now, letting you see him fully. He’s taller than you thought and fit, biceps and shoulders pressing against his shirt and making your mouth water. 

“I’m sorry for staring earlier,” he gives you an easy going smile, “you just reminded me of someone.”

Embarrassment burns hot behind your eyes making you internally cringe. 

“Oh no big deal!” You clear your throat, “I guess I’m just sorry I took it the wrong way.”

His smile slips into a grin, “How did you take it?”

Feeling flustered now, you fidget with the gaudy rings on your fingers that you thought were a riot to pair with your vampire costume. 

“It doesn’t matter,” you shrug, “so uh, are you friends with Mindy?”

He laughs, “Is it bad that I don’t even know who that is?”

You grin, “No, to be fair, I don’t think more than ten people probably know the host. But I guess however you found out, you at least knew to dress up.”

He laughs again, blue eyes sharper than before, “Yeah? What am I supposed to be?”

You gesture to yourself, “A vampire, unless I’m off the mark. We have the same vibe going.”

Leon glances down at his own clothing, dark pants with a long sleeved white shirt and vest offset with a velvet coat with tails. He then looks up to see your silly lacy frock with a red vest paired with dark wash jeans. 

You laugh again, “Okay, well yours is a little more like the real deal but to be fair I only had like an hour to throw this together.”

He goes to step forward when a group of people bustle into the kitchen, loudly talking and laughing with each other. Grabbing your hand, he tugs and you follow as he leads you both through the French doors into the backyard. 

You feel your heart rate kick into overdrive when he guides you all the way to the gazebo off to the side, nearly hidden from view of the house. 

“We shouldn’t be interrupted anymore, right?” He smiles at you but instead of invoking warmth it sends chills running down your spine. 

“R-right,” you give him a shaky smile in return, realizing Leon is blocking the only way out of the gazebo, “so, um, you said I reminded you of someone. Were you looking for her here?”

“You could say that,” he takes a step forward and you take one back.

“I might can help, I mean I know a lot of people here already,” you ramble, feeling your nerves get the best of you. 

He smirks, features looking colder in the moonlight, “No need, she’s technically not around anymore.”

“Technically?” The spit in your mouth dries up as your back hits the gazebo lattice. 

Leon keeps getting closer to you until he’s boxing you in, hands coming up to brace on either side of your head. You’re engulfed with his scent of cedar wood and pine resin sprinkled with hints of warm vanilla underneath; it makes you dizzier the more you breathe it in. 

Leaning down, he noses gently against your hairline making you gasp.

“She’s not alive anymore,” he murmurs against the shell of your ear in amusement, “it’s just a little game I like to play, to find her look alike. This isn’t the first time I’ve played with you. Aren’t you lucky, my little vampire?”

You push against Leon’s chest but his mouth watering scent keeps you dizzy and weak, like a kitten pawing at his vest making him chuckle.  

“Poor thing,” one of his hands moves to cradle your jaw, his thumb smoothing over your bottom lip, “you’re in over your silly little head, hmm?”

“Who’re you?” You slur out, tongue feeling heavy in your mouth. 

“Leon, but you already knew that,” he coos, blue eyes gazing deep into your own, “you’re resisting me, little vampire, but it’s no use.”

“Wanna leave,” you mumble tiredly, unable to pull away from him. 

He chuckles meanly, “But why? I’m going to make you feel so good.” 

You feel a sharp needle like pain sink into the side of your neck followed by honey thick pleasure dripping down your body from that pressure point. Pressing your thighs together, you whimper as your cunt throbs with want. A rumbling moan comes from the man in front of you as he drinks from your neck. 

Your hands tangle in his hair with the intention to yank him away but against your own wishes you pull him closer, whining for more. With a growl, he pulls away from your neck, blue eyes so bright they seem to shine in the dark. His mouth is swollen and painted red with your blood. 

“So sweet,” he licks his bottom lip and you catch a hint of his fangs, “I could smell you from outside. Your blood called to me as it always does, sweetling.”

“W-what?” You gasp out while he licks across the bite mark on your neck, sealing the wound as if it was never there. 

“Shhh, just let me taste you,” he murmurs against your skin. 

Tearing your vest off and shirt open, he pulls down the cup of your bra and bites your breast right above your heart. A keening cry slips past your lips and you sag against his firm body. He moans and uses one arm to wrap around your upper body, cradling you to him as he drinks. 

Your mind drifts in a fugue state, feeling the sharp bite of pain each time he sinks his fangs into your body but immediately having it swept away by arousal so potent it has your thighs trembling as slick fills and soaks through your panties. 

By the time, he pulls away from your body, you’re swaying into his chest, unable to stay up on your own two feet. He slots his leg in between your thighs and you moan, rocking down on the pressure against your clit. 

“Such a needy girl,” he rasps, big hands gripping the fat of your hips to help you grind against his thigh, “come on sweetling, make yourself cum and I’ll take you home.”

The only thing your brain latches onto is making yourself cum. You need it so badly. Humping down onto Leon’s thighs, he kisses and nips at your neck, scraping his fangs against the skin and making you whimper at the hint of pain. 

“Cum for me, then I can take you apart in a real bed, make you scream for me,” his dark baritone promises, tongue tracing the shell of your ear, “be a good girl and cum on my leg.”

He yanks you down on his leg just right, rubbing your swollen clit against the seam of your jeans and making your orgasm uncoil from your belly. You cum with a low moan; reaching out, your nails dig into his broad shoulders as you whimper, slowly coming to a stop against his thigh. 

Your whole body feels wiped out, like you can sleep forever.

A rumbling chuckle makes you realize you must’ve spoken out loud. 

“No one wants to sleep forever.”

Your brain is slow to come back online which Leon is all too happy to coax you back into a half asleep state. He swings you up into his arms and that’s the last thing you remember before passing out. 

It feels like your consciousness is swimming through molasses as you finally come to your senses. Blearily, you open your eyes, squinting from the steady moonlight pouring through the open window. Turning your head, you can’t see much of the room, only that you’re splayed out in a large bed with soft sheets. 

“There she is,” a voice rumbles from between your legs drawing your half open gaze. 

Looking down, you see that you’re completely naked and marked all over with puncture wounds. The man from the party is lying between your spread legs. 

“Leon,” you murmur softly and he grins, showing off his sharpened incisors. 

“Glad you could join me,” he kisses the bite mark he’d been nursing on your thigh making your clit throb. 

His mouth kisses up to the junction of where your cunt and thigh meet, letting his fangs pierce your soft skin. Your thighs tremble and slick drips from your pussy as he laps up the blood beading from the punctures he made. 

“So pretty, all marked up like this,” he purrs, mouth kissing across to your mound and aching clit, “should I sink my teeth into this fat little pussy?”

You moan shakily as his fangs teasingly brush across the lips of your cunt.

“Maybe after I’ve had my fill,” he chuckles lowly, “wanna eat you out first.”

With a sigh, he sinks down and licks up the slick dripping from your hole, tongue thrusting lazily inside your pussy. Your arms lay above your head, fingers twitching, feeling weighed down like you can’t move them. Whining, you toss your head back, hips rolling against Leon’s hungry mouth. 

His hands trap your thighs against the bed, keeping your spread open as he laps and sucks his way up to your sensitive bud. His mouth softly kisses across the hood of your clit until you’re rocking up into him. 

“Please,” you gasp out, “please, Leon.”

He growls and suckles your clit into his mouth, tongue circling the sensitive nerves over and over until you’re humping his mouth with a moan. Laughing, he pulls away to spit on your cunt making your whole body shudder. 

“My girl tastes so good,” he kisses all around your pussy, teeth nipping the sensitive skin making you whimper, “but I think it’ll be better if I fuck this silky pussy, right baby?”

You moan and Leon pulls away from your wet cunt. He moves up your body, forearms braced on either side of your head as he grinds down against you, dripping cock leaking precum all over your slick thighs. Your body feels an insatiable need to be filled— fucked by Leon. 

He slides his arms underneath your shoulders to help you wrap your hands around his neck. Then, he reaches down to guide your legs to wrap around his waist. 

“Good girl,” he coos, making your head go fuzzy as that intoxicating scent of his seems to bloom in the air, “about to stretch this gorgeous little pussy out.”

You let out a choked off gasp as his cock breaches your cunt, bottoming out quickly, stretching your walls to the point you feel split in two. 

“Leon,” you mewl pitifully, tears slipping from your eyes.

“Shh, shh,” he soothes, “it already feels good doesn’t it, sweetling?”

His fangs open up two new holes in the side of your neck making your cunt clamp down on his cock as a small orgasm washes through you.  

“There we go,” he coos condescendingly, “pussy just needed a little help. Now you’re cumming all over me.”

You sob out a moan, tears streaming down your temples as Leon pulls out and fucks roughly back into your sensitive hole. Although your legs and arms are wrapped around his body, you lie there practically limp as he fucks his thick cock into your soaked pussy. 

“You’re always such a good fuck,” he grunts in your ear, “no matter how many times we do this.”

“What’re you…”

You try to talk but your mind is just too out of it to form words. 

He chuckles meanly, “This isn’t the first time. But don’t worry, I’ll make you forget so we can do this again.”

His cock throbs and kicks inside your fluttering walls making you whimper.

“Mmm, I’m gonna play with this cute pussy all night,” he groans, dragging his cock against the spongy spot in your cunt that has you clenching around him.  

He snaps his hips harder and fucks the fat tip of his cock against your cervix making you squeal. He’s barely pulling out before thrusting back in, scraping against your g-spot before his cock presses deep inside your pussy. A handful of harsh grinds as he fucks the opening to your womb has you a drooling mess. 

“That’s the spot,” he rumbles, voice a low rasp, “and when I cum, it’s gonna be deep inside this needy cunt.”

You cry out when he sinks his teeth into you over and over, not even drinking your blood, just marking your neck up with vicious bites. It’s enough to make you cum hard around his cock, toes curling as fireworks explode inside your mind. He humps inside your spasming pussy until burying himself balls deep and spilling his sticky jizz all inside your fluttering walls. 

“Taking it like such a good girl,” he moans, pumping his load directly against your cervix, hot sticky ropes of cum spurting from the tip of his cock. 

The blood roars in your ears as he grinds down against your hips. 

“Just close your eyes, sweetling,” his smoky voice drifts into your ears, “when you wake up you won’t remember a thing.”

divider: @firefly-graphics

[writeforfandoms]

Love Letters

Find my Halo masterlist

This is just a fun little gift for/brainrot with my lovely @chaoticgeminate​ who helped me plan out the idea and cheered me on. Love you darling! 💖

You never intended to actually admit your feelings to Master Chief. But your supervisor meddled, he knows, and you might be having anxiety. A silly cute one shot about developing feelings.

John-117/Master Chief x f!reader

Warnings: swearing, mild implied violence, tooth rotting fluff, Blue Team Supremacy

Word count: 5.7k

“You did what?!” You stared at your supervisor with horrified eyes, hands gripping the edge of your console too tight.

“I delivered that letter.” Your supervisor, Melinda, was a good supervisor. She ran a tight group. She was also a troublemaker who meddled and had a secret romantic side. 

Which she had apparently used to send a letter that was never actually meant to be sent!

“Why?” You couldn’t keep the weight of despair out of your voice, half-pleading for her to be pranking you.

Melinda shrugged. “It was a nice letter. Very sweet. If nothing else, he deserves to know.”

“No! He was never meant to know!” You pried your hands off the metal and debated the merits of strangling Melinda. Pro: they’d court martial you so you would never have to face Master Chief. Con: you’d end up on a work colony planet and probably get shivved within days. 

Fine, no strangling Melinda. Yet. 

“Why not? I think your crush is adorable.” Melinda smirked in that particularly infuriating way she had. 

You made a wordless noise of protest and despair, letting your head fall to your station with a little thunk.

“Go walk it off,” Melinda told you, slapping your back. (Ow.) “Take a break. That’s not a suggestion.”

“Yes, ma’am.” You sighed and stood as she walked away, trudging away from your station. Not that you had anywhere in particular in mind to go. The ship was not small, after all. But you had been told to walk it off, so… Walking it was. 

At least until you rounded a corner and damn near ran into a very familiar armored individual. All you had to do was spot that particular shade of green and you damn near jumped out of the way.

“Sorry, sir!” Okay, so maybe you squeaked a bit, but. Really. You could not be blamed. Your heart couldn’t take this kind of stress, especially not with the stunt Melinda pulled earlier.

But Master Chief just nodded to you and continued on his way. Only once he was out of sight did you deflate with a whoosh, leaning back against the wall. 

Okay. Either he hadn’t read the letter, or he hadn’t gotten it yet, or he had read it but was just ignoring you. What if you’d made him uncomfortable? What if he didn’t even know how to respond and you just fucked things up?

You groaned and covered your face with your hands. You were never going to recover from this disaster. 

–

There was a letter on his floor. An actual, physical letter. Hardly anyone used those anymore - he’d used a notepad maybe a handful of times to take notes. (And once as a distraction. It made a lot of noise and left some very confused Unggoy.) 

Point being, John was fairly certain he’d never received a physical letter in his life. But the envelope said “Master Chief” on the outside. And it had been left in his room.

He sat at the desk and opened it, fingers working carefully at the envelope to get the paper out. 

The first thing he noticed was the handwriting. A little curly, a little scratched, it was almost… endearing. 

And then he actually read the letter. 

And stopped.

John was aware that some people found him attractive. While it wasn’t something he had ever encouraged or discouraged, not really, it wasn’t something he entirely understood, either. It was very rare that he thought of people in terms of attraction. 

But this… This was not that. Not quite. This was far more emotional. In fact, the writer admitted to having not seen him without the helmet. 

This was not physical attraction. This was something different. 

He had no idea what to do with it.

For now, he folded it up and carefully tucked it away in his desk. Using every privacy protocol he knew of, he went into the database to search for reference material. 

Half of which were old movies and shows revolving around the sending and receiving of these letters, usually with comedic or dramatic aspects.

John would never, ever admit to having watched one of them. It’s not like he needed a lot of sleep anyway. 

But he was still at a loss as to what to do. Did he write back? Did he find this person and talk to them face to face? The sources available to him were… unclear on proper protocol. 

His Spartans, he knew, would be no help with this. For various reasons. Not least of which being that they’d tease the hell out of him. So, alternate sources needed.

(And he couldn’t help the flash of pain at the thought that Cortana would have an answer, she’d find an answer for him, she always had answers–)

Captain Lasky had proven himself trustworthy and discreet. While not John’s first choice, he would do if further research yielded no results. 

With a sigh, John closed everything down for the night. He needed sleep. At least a little sleep. Not sleeping led to being forced to take downtime, which was… a bad thing. A very bad thing. 

He laid down and stared up at the ceiling, systematically going through his body and making sure there were no noteworthy aches. Then he closed his eyes.

The last conscious thought he had was that he liked your handwriting. 

–

John purposely waited until after his next mission to bring up the letter. He had already decided this was a conversation he needed to have with the helmet on. 

So, after debrief, instead of taking Lasky’s usual dismissal, John shifted his weight. “There is one more thing.”

Lasky looked up at him with a faint, concerned frown. “Speak freely, Chief.” 

“A Spartan received a letter.” John spoke slowly, weighing each word. He didn’t want to lie, but he didn’t want to reveal the whole situation just yet. “Of a… personal nature.”

Lasky grimaced. “If someone needs to be spoken to–”

“No.” John tipped his head to the side. “It wasn’t a bad letter.” 

Lasky blinked, caught off guard, and nodded slowly. “Then what is the concern of this Spartan?” 

This would be the hard part. John stuck to the same tactic, in hopes it worked. “None of us are aware of proper protocols for responding to such letters, Captain.” 

Lasky was completely silent for a long moment. And then he lifted one hand to rub his forehead, muttering to himself. (John knew he wouldn’t have been able to hear without his enhanced hearing.) “I am not equipped to handle this talk…” Lasky drew in a deep breath and looked back up at John. “Let me see if I have this right. A Spartan received a personal letter, but not an inappropriate one. I’m guessing a love letter or a confession letter of some kind. And… you want to know how to respond.”

“Correct, sir.” John didn’t move.

Lasky sighed. “Well. There are a couple ways to respond, I suppose, depending on how the Spartan in question feels. If they’re uncomfortable, they can ignore the letter or turn the person down. Or if the… feelings are accepted, they can write a return letter or tell this person face to face.” 

“What would the contents of a return letter be?” John frowned, yet again glad the helmet was concealing his expression.

Lasky looked like he would rather be doing anything else. “That’s up to the person writing. Granted, letters haven’t been common for centuries, but… Stating your own feelings is pretty typical, or inviting the person to continue writing. Some people find it easier to write their feelings than say them out loud.” 

John turned this new information over in his mind before he nodded once. “Understood. Thank you, sir.”

“Chief?”

John paused, half-turned away from the captain, and tipped his head back that direction.

“Let me know if this becomes a problem. Otherwise, I’ll assume all is well and I will not go looking for more paperwork.”

John nodded his understanding of that and left. He was scheduled to get out of the armor now and have some time to fuel and sleep. 

But maybe… 

Stepping into the Brokkr to get the armor removed was second nature by now, and John barely paid attention to the machinery whirring around him. He was instead still puzzling over the letter in his mind. 

Lasky’s explanation had been sufficient for him to move forward. 

Walking around the ship without armor always left John feeling exposed. He was so used to being in the armor, being a soldier, that being without was… odd. Fortunately, it happened infrequently enough that he still had some anonymity - although it was clear he was a Spartan, most of the crew didn’t equate him to the Master Chief outside of his armor. And that was just fine with him. 

The mess was busy when he entered, but nobody bothered him as he took a tray, gathered food, and sat at an empty table well off to the side. Just as he preferred.

He spotted you sitting at a table not too far away, datapad in front of you, tray forgotten to one side. He watched as your brow furrowed, as you hunched closer to the screen as if that would help you, as you scrolled through whatever you were reading with just the very tip of your tongue poking between your lips. 

He’d never spoken to you, but he had looked you up after reading the letter. Clean service record, glowing compliments from multiple supervisors. You’d been in communications your entire career, and you were, by all accounts, good at it. 

Despite the clear fluster you’d shown that day you’d run into him. 

He tipped his head to the side a little, watching you mutter under your breath as you did… something on the datapad. You were… different. Cute, maybe. He didn’t have much of a frame of reference for cute. Or attractive. 

When you finally looked up from your datapad, John was carefully not watching you. You seemed totally oblivious to having been observed for the better part of five minutes, and started eating with half your attention. 

Depositing his tray after he was done, John made his way back to his room. He knew how he needed to proceed.

–

You weren’t paying attention as you walked back to your bunk, which was… not unusual. You shared with three others, and you all had rotating schedules, so you could usually get at least a little time to yourself. 

But the crinkle of something underfoot when you stepped into your bunk was new. Frowning, you looked down.

There was a letter. On the floor. Partially under your foot.

Heart suddenly racing into overtime, you bent to pick it up. It was addressed to you in unfamiliar, blocky handwriting. This did not help your pulse at all, which was still thrumming hard and fast. 

Double checking that you were alone, you dropped down to sit on your bed and opened the envelope with shaking fingers. 

The letter was short, and for a moment your gaze caught on the name at the end. 

John. John. 

…Wait. John-117. Master Chief. 

You were definitely going to murder Melinda. 

Your letter was very kind, if unexpected. I've never received a letter like this before, and was uncertain how to respond. 

I don't know you, but I would like to, time permitting. If you would like to remain discreet, further letters would be welcome. I am also open to suggestions. 

Regards,

You stared at the letter unblinkingly for several moments. He… hadn't turned you down. He hadn't said no. 

He'd… said yes? 

You carefully put the letter back away. Put your face in your hands. And squealed. 

Okay. Maybe you wouldn't kill Melinda, after all. 

But wait. Now you had to decide what to do! Tipping over sideways, you hid your face in your pillow and shrieked. Just a little bit. (The walls weren't that thick, after all.) 

…Wait. Now you had to figure out how to reply. 

You were so fucked. 

–

It took you three days to write a return letter to him. Partially because you had to figure out how to say what you wanted to say (and you definitely ended up scrapping two pieces of paper). Partially because work required actual focus, and you couldn’t always goof off. And partially just because it took you a bit to gather your nerves. 

You’d never really intended to confess your feelings to Chief. To John. You were still figuring out how you felt about having been outed, more or less. 

Finally, though, you gave up and just wrote the damn thing. It was late, you were mildly sleep deprived and running on a bit of liquid courage. 

John,

I hope you don’t mind if I call you John now. I have one more confession to make. 

I wrote the letter, yes, but I never actually sent it. I’m… a little intimidated now that you know. I really hope I haven’t overstepped. 

But I would really like to get to know you. Whatever way you’re comfortable with, really. Letters are good with me. Honestly, they’re probably more coherent. I can ramble on for a long time if nobody stops me in person, my supervisor teases me about it sometimes. 

I work in Communications, so my shifts tend to be pretty predictable. I’ve got the early shift at the moment - 0600 to 1500. It’s not bad, really, but it does mean I tend to go to bed early. I rarely have plans after my shifts. Although I do like to wander the ship. I have definitely gone into areas I was not supposed to. It’s kinda fun. 

Alright, maybe I can ramble on paper just as well as I can in person. 

I know your schedule tends to be a little unpredictable, so I guess just let me know if you want to do anything? Or we can stick to letters. Whatever you’re comfortable with. 

Sincerely,

You didn’t let you second guess yourself, folding the letter and sealing the envelope. You stood, ready to go deliver it right then.

And realized you actually had no idea where his quarters were.

You stood there, stumped, momentary panic flashing through you. This was a terrible idea. 

Your datapad chimed, and you set the letter down to check your datapad instead. 

You haven’t given me an update on your letter to Chief! Did he ever respond? If you need to go bug him, all the Spartans are on S-deck. He’s in 117, of course. Just walk like you belong and nobody will bother you. Have fun! :D 

Sometimes you were really tempted to kill Melinda… but she had her uses. 

One more deep breath to settle your nerves and you started for the nearest elevator, letter shoved into your pocket so you wouldn’t fiddle with it. Fortunately, there were plenty of directional signs on the ship. Which made sense, considering the size of the bloody thing. 

It also suited you well in finding S-deck. 

The elevator opened onto S-deck, and you stepped out cautiously. But nobody was around, not right then. Swallowing, you took a quick look around before you started walking. The first fork you came to was fortunately labeled: quarters to the left, rec room and gym to the right. You could hear activity from the right, but fortunately you needed to go left anyway. 

The doors were all clearly labeled. Some few had actual personality on the outside - one person had attached some stickers to the outside of the door, while another had painted the numbers green. 

Room 117 was in a little ways, but you found it. The door was plain, unadorned. You had no idea if he was in there or not. 

But this was enough bravery for one day. You crouched and pushed the letter under his doorway, making sure it was all the way through and couldn’t be seen from outside the door. 

Then you turned and very calmly fled. 

(You didn’t even notice a Spartan further down the hall, eyes narrowed and focused on you. You turned a corner and vanished from sight, and the speculative gaze turned to Chief’s door instead. Hmm.) 

–

John didn’t outwardly react as Linda fell into step next to him. She’d speak her piece in her own time, there was no point in rushing her. 

“Did you know you got a letter, Chief?” 

John didn’t break stride. But only through sheer force of habit. “I was unaware.” Which was true - he hadn’t been back to his quarters yet. But he had kind of hoped that he would find a letter. 

“But you’re not surprised.”

Damn. He had hoped she wouldn’t pick up on that. The alternative was worse, so John just didn’t answer. 

“John.”

“Linda.” 

She didn’t huff, didn’t demand. Just kept steady pace with him. Metaphorically wearing him down. 

Although, if he really wanted to be stubborn, that could take a long time. 

John made the turn down to his quarters, weighing pros and cons. Then he nodded once and hit the button to unlock his door.

Sure enough, there was a letter just inside the door. He picked it up and then stepped out of the way, inviting Linda in with nothing more than a tilt of his head. She stepped through after him. 

“This is the second letter I’ve received.” John tucked the letter, unread, into his desk. He would not be reading it with company present.

“Who from?”

“Does it matter?” 

“Nobody uses letters anymore.” Her head tilt was all curiosity. And when Linda was actually curious about something, she dug until she got what she wanted. 

There were a few different ways he could handle this. He could pull rank and tell her to back off. And she would. But it would not be graceful. That was his least favorite option, honestly. Any of his Spartans deserved better from him. 

So he chose a variation of the truth. 

“It’s personal.”

“Someone wrote you a personal letter.” The surprise coloring her tone was very faint, but there. 

“Yes.”

“And you’re aware who it is.”

“Yes.” John didn’t move, watching her closely. 

The two remained locked in a stalemate for a full minute, completely silent. Linda wasn’t willing to back down entirely. John wasn’t willing to give her more information just to assuage her curiosity. 

Then Linda smirked, a faint tick of her lips, an expression that had John instantly on guard. “I’m sure it will be easy to find her name,” she murmured. “I’ll recognize her when I see her again.”

Shit. If Linda had seen you leaving the letter, then she would find you again. It would just be a matter of time. 

And, intended or not, Linda could be… intense. They all could. John knew that, he’d seen the way the crew sometimes eyed them, unsure how to interact. 

But he didn’t want Linda scaring you, even inadvertently. So he made a concession. 

“You do not approach her about this. You do not investigate her.” He stared her down, waiting until she nodded her agreement to continue. Then he gave her your name. 

Linda nodded once. “What is your end goal here?” 

John shrugged, a tiny movement that nonetheless conveyed everything it needed to. Linda frowned a tiny bit, almost disapproving, before she released her breath in her version of a laugh. 

“Don’t do anything foolish, John.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he drawled, completely dry. 

Linda shook her head, just a little, and bumped her shoulder into his as she walked back out of his room. 

John finally sat at his desk, pulling the letter out. Your handwriting was still a little chaotic, moreso than last time. As if you’d been writing in a hurry. He read the letter quickly the first time and then slowed, reading it again. Unbidden, his lips quirked. 

Well. Your rambling, as you called it, was not anything that bothered John. If anything, he found it endearing. 

Maybe he should mention that? Would it help to put you at ease? 

Shaking his head a little at himself, John debated how to answer. 

–

“Is that her?” 

A tiny nod. 

A single grunt. Keen eyes observed every movement, every flicker of emotion. 

“She’s soft.”

“Is that such a bad thing?”

Another grunt, quiet, contemplative. 

It wasn’t until their quarry moved that they did. 

“Think this will work?”

A soft sound, almost a laugh. “Chief is stubborn.”

A huff of acknowledgement. Really, that was all that needed to be said. 

–

You groaned softly as you walked down a hallway, rolling your shoulders. It had been a long shift fighting with some misaligned repeaters. Coordinating with Engineering was always a pain, and today had been somehow even more aggravating than normal. Your shoulders ached with lingering tension, and you didn’t want to deal with people yet.

So, wandering the ship it was. You may have sneaked through a Jeffries tube to get two decks down without having to take the elevator. Look, nobody caught you at it, it was fine. 

You weren’t even sure where you were going, but it felt good to just… go. Especially when you stuck to quieter corridors and less populated areas. 

You’d find your way back. You always did. Not like you could get that far, after all. 

Coming to a crossroads (and signposts), you blinked when you realized you were almost to the aft observatory. Well. That was… something. Huffing a little at yourself, you continued down that hallway, stepping quietly into the observatory. 

It was empty, and you breathed out a little sigh of relief, sinking down to sit cross-legged on the floor in front of one of the floor-to-ceiling viewports. The quiet and the calm helped, your shoulders easing down into a more relaxed position. 

The door opened behind you and your heart plummeted. Maybe they’d leave. Or at least leave you alone. The floor shook a little under heavy, even footsteps, stopping next to you. You looked up… and up… and up, finally into a golden visor. You blinked, caught completely off guard.

“May I?” His voice was low and deep and calm, soothing to your nerves. Somehow.

“Oh! Sure! There are benches if you prefer.” You shrugged, a little bashful, still staring up at him. 

He merely lowered himself to the floor next to you, surprisingly dexterous for a man wearing nearly half a ton of armor. (Not that you’d gone and looked up all the information you could get your grubby little mitts on about the Mjolnir armor.) 

“Did you know I was here?” You tipped your head to look up at him, curious more than anything. 

His head dipped in a nod, a little hesitant. 

“Huh.” You blinked and then ducked your head. “You didn’t have to come all the way down here for me,” you murmured, warm, heart fluttering in your chest.

“I wanted to.” Still that even tone, matter of fact. But still soothing. 

You nodded, peeking up at him again. He had shifted the tiniest bit, arms braced on his thighs, helmet forward again. Giving you space, you realized with a warm swell of startled affection. 

“I think this is only the third time I’ve been here,” you started slowly, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. His head tipped, indicating he was listening. “The first time was an accident. I couldn’t sleep, just got switched from the overnight shift to first shift.” You paused to chuckle. “Had a few very blurry days before I adjusted, that was awful. But I was wandering around, must’ve been after midnight, and kind of blindly stumbled in here. It was so quiet - just the air filtration system, really. I sat down, figuring I’d do a bit of reading, and woke up with an awful crick in my neck and my alarm going off. Had to book it back up to communications.”

His shoulders bounced once in what might have been a laugh. 

“Can I…?” You looked more fully at him, a little shy, a little hesitant. “Do you want me to tell you more?”

He nodded. “Whatever you can share.” 

“You’re going to regret that one day,” you warned him with a little laugh. “I told you I can ramble.”

“I don’t mind.” He didn’t move, still relaxed, still waiting on you.

So you started telling him about another one of your rambles. 

“...and I really wasn’t planning on going all the way to the hangers,” you told him, trying (and failing) to hide your mirth. “Especially not from the ceiling.” 

“The Jeffries actually opened into the hanger?” He sounded… something. Dismayed? Disgusted? Something. 

“Apparently, they weren’t supposed to.” You paused. “But that one definitely did. Spent a few minutes clinging to the ladder inside the tube. There was a lot of panicked shouting. They eventually got out a ladder that reached and got me down. The whole tube had to be closed for maintenance for four days before they found the malfunction. After Captain Lasky gave me the dressing down of my life, he grudgingly admitted it was a good thing I found that malfunction before it became a problem.” 

John’s chest practically vibrated, his chuckle so quiet you could barely hear it. “That was you?”

“Oh god, you’ve heard of that?” You dropped your head, hiding behind your hands, though you were laughing. “How’d you know?”

“Roland almost asked me to go, decided on a Spartan-IV instead.”

You giggle-snorted, covering your eyes. “They were debating the merits of sending someone up with a jetpack to grab me until one of the Pelican mechanics found the ladder.” You paused purely for effect, peeking up at him between your fingers. “I never managed to tell them I’m afraid of heights.” 

That time you heard the chuckle, low and rumbling and wonderful. You hid your face again until you could contain your own laughter. 

Finally, though, you checked the time, dismayed to see how late it had gotten. (Well. Late for you, because you were the most boring person on this entire ship.) 

“I’m not keeping you from anything, am I?” You twisted your fingers together, peering up at him, caught between worry and hope. 

“No.” He shifted, facing you a little more directly. But still giving you space. Still giving you time. 

“Okay.” You paused, chewing on your lower lip. “Have you eaten?” 

He shook his head, silent, watchful. 

“Do you want to?” You were quick to continue as the implications of what you’d just asked caught up with you. “We don’t have to, of course, or another time, whatever you’re comfortable with.”

He paused and then his head jerked around to the doorway. “Later,” he said, getting to his feet with a fluid grace you frankly envied. But his hand reached back down to you, helping you to your feet like you weighed nothing. (To a Spartan, you didn’t.) 

“Okay.” You weren’t going to push. Not about anything, really, but definitely not about this.

“Lasky’s calling Blue Team.” He offered the explanation without prompting.

Something in your chest relaxed, some anxiety you hadn’t even named. “I hope you won’t be late.”

“I won’t.” He sounded so easily confident, like he could bend the universe around him to his will. You half-believed he could. “Here.” He held out a letter to you. Where it had come from, you had no idea, but you took it with barely trembling fingers. 

“I’ll see you soon?” You tried to keep the hope out of your voice. You failed. 

He nodded once to you before he turned and strode out of the room, quick and purposeful. You stood frozen until the door closed behind him. 

(Outside the door, the rest of Blue Team fearlessly faced down John, having kept everyone else away from the room so he could have his time. His head dipped, the barest amount, in recognition and thanks. They fell in behind him to make their way to Lasky. No words were needed.) 

–

That meeting seemed to have signaled some kind of break in the ice between you and John. He found you more often than not after your shifts. Sometimes you two walked and talked. Sometimes you found a place to sit - the aft observatory became a favorite with you two. Sometimes you even had a meal together, although those times were more rare. John was still shy about being with you without the armor.

That was okay. He could take as much time as he wanted. You weren’t actually trying to jump him. You genuinely liked his company, no matter what he was wearing. 

(When you told him so, quietly, one night while the two of you had a late snack in the observatory, his cheeks went pink and he ducked his head. But he also bundled you up into a hug before he left, which was warm and firm and the absolute best thing ever.) 

And you may not have been the smartest person on board, or the most observant, but even you couldn’t miss the way the rest of Blue Team hung around. You made sure to wave at them any time you saw them. Not that you got a response out of them, most of the time, but still. You liked them. 

Especially after Kelly grabbed a letter from you as you were taking it to John’s room and bolted away. You found out later that John had been sent on an unexpected mission, and Kelly had just gotten the letter to him before he’d gotten in the Pelican. 

You kind of assumed that meant they liked you, too. 

But it wasn’t all good all the time. 

While John was gone on this super secret mission, comms went down to most of the rest of the universe. Meaning a pileup of crew who had messages they wanted to send home who couldn’t. 

And it was nobody’s fault. But somehow you were blamed (and the rest of the communications staff). The whole department was working around the clock to get it fixed, but it looked like the problem wasn’t even with the Infinity, but with a relay elsewhere in space. 

Meaning there was quite literally nothing you could do. 

But a handful of ODSTs didn’t like that answer. 

“I got people to talk to back home,” one of them, the ringleader of their little group, grumbled at you. He was taller than you, using his height to try to tower over you. (That might have worked a few months ago, but now? Not a chance. John had inadvertently seen to that.) 

“I told you, there’s nothing I can do,” you insisted. But you took a step back, hoping you could escape to the mess or somewhere else populated. “The problem isn’t on the ship, and we’re not headed towards the relay to fix it.”

“Yeah? Why not? You think it’s okay to just make us wait?” The ringleader took a step closer to you. 

“That’s not–of course not!” You puffed up as much as you could. Which was… not a lot. “You think we don’t have family, too?” 

“I don’t think you do,” one of the others jeered, just to be cruel. 

But the remark still landed, and you still flinched. The other two drew in closer, like wolves scenting blood. 

“Seriously,” you tried again, pushing your shoulders down and back, “if you have a problem with the outage, talk to my CO. She’ll tell you the same thing I did. There’s nothing we can do until another ship gets to the relay.” You did your very best to glare them down. 

Either your glaring skills had improved or they got tired of taunting you, because one of them nudged the ringleader, and they all backed off in a hurry. Actually, it looked like they scrambled away from you. Which was… confusing. But. Hey! It worked! 

Turning, you hummed as you continued on to the mess. You really needed food now. 

(Behind you, Fred let out a slow breath from where he’d stepped behind some machinery to get out of your line of sight, after scaring off the ODSTs. That had been close. Too close. He made a mental note to talk to Linda and Kelly about assigning you a permanent shadow until this communications issue was cleared up, or Chief got back. You had the self-preservation instincts of a lemming.) 

–

The first thing John wanted to do after debrief was find you. But he took the time to get de-armored first, carefully not fidgeting through the process. He got dressed and was out in record time, completely ignoring the armor techs. 

He had missed you during this last mission. And that was… new. And odd. Not unacceptable, because he had felt this ache before. But it still scared him, a little, this need to see you. To be near you.

But for once, he went with it, rather than fighting it. Even though it had been a long time by now, Cortana’s words about one of them being more human than machine still rang in his mind. 

He was finally making the decision to be more human. 

He found you in the aft observatory, Kelly standing guard by the door. He nodded to her, and her return nod was easy. Good. No issues worth mentioning, then. 

The door opened and he stepped inside, finding you immediately. You were sitting with your knees up near your chest, arms loose around your legs. You looked… sad. Lonely. 

He could fix that. 

John didn’t say a word as he strode over to you, not even returning your sputtered greeting as he sat behind you. Immediately, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling your back flush to his chest so he could curl himself around you as much as physically possible. He could feel your heart beating hard, could hear your stuttered breath. But you relaxed into his hold almost immediately, curling one hand around his. John breathed out slowly, steadily. 

For now, this was enough. He would need to explain more to you later. Maybe in a letter if he couldn’t get himself to speak the words. 

But for now? This was all he wanted. You, safe and warm and protected in his arms, the tension leaving the both of you. He tucked his head down into the crook of your neck, listening to your heart steady out. 

Yes. This was enough. 

[tillthelandslide]

Insufferable Arsehole Part 15: You

A/n: hi everyone! Feels so surreal to say but this is the penultimate chapter of insufferable arsehole *cries*. I love this series so much so please feel free to send in any requests you want to see from these characters. But the main series is nearly over *sobs*. I hope you enjoy this chapter, I love you all so much and thank you for all your support <3. I want to give a massive shout out to @ughgoaway and @justanamesstuff for loving this series as much as I do. Without all of your support (but especially my loving ia stans) this series would've been over a long time ago. I love you guys so much. Hope you enjoy <3

Extra note: I wrote all the little poems in the notebook part of this series. They're all original (whether you think they're shit or you like them) please don't copy them.

Previous Part

Series Masterlist

Matty’s POV

The sofa I'm lying on feels way too comfortable, the warmth of it making it hard for me to get up. It’s soft beneath me and it lures me into closing my eyes.  I have things I need to do, I have people I need to call, meetings I need to attend, friends I need to make sure are okay, set lists to read and adjust. A wonderful and loving girlfriend who I need to show my love for. But lying here, listening to the soft strum of the guitar she's playing has my closed eyes fluttering and my body weighing down on the sofa. I don't fall asleep, I just lie with my eyes closed, letting her voice drift over me - consume me.

I had moments like these, moments where I felt... Numb. But she pulls me out of them, or at least fills my body with something other than numbness, she touches the parts that can't usually be persuaded on days like these. These moments were few and far between with the presence of Lou in my life and somehow it makes this time worse. I feel guilty for feeling this way, for feeling low, for slipping into a dark space. I shouldn’t be feeling like this, I had a wonderful girlfriend, I was finally with the girl meant for me. And I had friends, great friends who were more like family. I had adoring fans and I did what I felt like I was meant to for a living. Life was perfect… So why did I feel so unworthy of it all?

It had started earlier this morning when I had snapped at one of the music techs, I hadn't meant to and I felt guilty as soon as I did it. Her warm hand clamped around my shoulder almost immediately, telling me to go lie down and so I did. I heard her apologise for my actions, explaining that I was 'tired'. I felt thankful she didn't tell the guy the real reason. The guys understood it, maybe even more than Lou, so when she spoke to them before she came back to me, they got it. Jamie had once described me as someone with a huge ego but no self worth, in moments like these, I had to agree. 

The sound of the guitar stops and I hear her set it down, I hear the shuffle of the foot stall, feel a light bump against the side of the sofa, feel her soft hand drifting up my back, up to my neck and then my head, pushing the curls away and making my eyes flutter open.

My heart beat falters, my breath matching it, her beautiful eyes look down at me, soothing me. It was hard to describe them, they were ever changing. I wouldn't say they were green, but they weren't blue or grey either, it was as if those colours alone weren't enough for someone like Lou, they weren't special or unique so whoever created her (I don't believe in God but some greater being had to create a person like her) decided to make a new colour, a combination of all things beautiful. They had hints of grey and specs of yellow and sometimes the sun made them look piercingly blue but the sun could also make them look like emeralds. They were perfect, one look into them and I can feel myself slipping from the dark spaces of my mind. 

"Hi my sweet boy" it surprises me that I don't have to tell her what I need from her in times like these, she just got it. As if she had access to all parts of my brain, able to peek in and see what I needed and having the ability to just give it to me without a shred of hesitation or an ulterior motive. It shouldn’t surprise me, not anymore, not when I knew she was it for me, the only one I ever want to be with, to spend the rest of my life with. The person who was mine and I theirs.

"Hi" I don't recognise the voice that comes from me, a low, deep grumble of a sad man. One that felt like a distant memory, the voice of someone I used to know, not the person I am now.

"I want to show you something" she says and I find myself nodding, she places her black leather notebook in my lap and I find my heart beating three times as hard as I look at it. She had never shown me this before, showing someone this is like showing them your deepest thoughts and emotions, baring your soul to them. I had watched her scribble in it countless times, I had watched as she wrote lyrics that pulled her lips up at the corners, I had watched as she scribbled down angrily, tears falling from her eyes and coating the pages. 

I remember the only time I had come close to reading the lyrics, pinning her down to a hotel bed in some forgotten location, tickling her sides until the book slipped from her fingertips, holding the pages above her head just out of reach as our laughter was all that could be heard. I remember the way she begged me to give it back, of course I would never have read it without her permission. I remember her pleas made me drop the book and bury my face into her neck. She made me forget about the lyrics easily, too wrapped up in her to care about them. 

"Are you sure?" I ask, sitting up slightly so my back is against the armrest of the sofa, pulling the book towards me and playing with the frayed edges. She smiles at me, her hand resting against my jaw, her thumb running over her bone, making my eyes flutter momentarily.

"Sometimes I think you forget how much you mean to people, you forget how much people love you... And not just me, the band and the crew, your family, my family, the fans... Of course I can only speak for myself... So I want you to read this" she speaks, voice soft and delicate. Beautiful.

I want to speak. To tell her I love her. To thank her. I want to smile. To press my lips against hers. But my eyes won't leave the book.

"most of them aren't finished... They're not songs... They're just things I wrote, little poems" she says and I nod, looking up from the book.

"I love you Matty" she says, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to my forehead before leaving me. It takes a while for me to open the book, scared of what I'll find. My shaky hands eventually separate the cover from the first page.

I find a few I recognise, like the one she posted on Instagram, the one I loved:

"I'd stay with you here forever, you with those dark eyes and darker hair, the epitome of beauty, you put Adonis to shame, with the way you paint my brain, with everything that is you, you with those dark eyes and darker hair. The epitome of beauty."

Her handwriting is delicate, cursive and, for a lack of a better word, beautiful. I'm not surprised because everything she does is beauty. She is beauty.

I flick through the pages, little photos taped to the corners or wedged in, the photos make my heart swell. Photos of her and G, one in particular making me smile: a photo of Lou sitting on George's shoulders, looking as if she was scared to fall down, but she's laughing and so is George and his hands are clamped on her thighs that rest around his head ensuring she doesn't fall. A picture of her and Ross, pulling funny faces at each other, they both look younger, Ross’ hair is short and Lou’s is too, I wish I had her like that back then, even now, even still - I regret the time we lost.  I find a picture she took of me, her thighs resting either side of my waist as she takes a photo from above, I feel like a different person than the one smiling up at me. I see another one taken in a photo booth, one where we're kissing, it makes me smile.

I read on, my heart slowly being refilled with love and beauty and kindness and feeling.

I could bask in you for endless days and endless nights. For you are the sun that shines and glistens. For you are the one that warms my once cold heart and bones.

You're the sun in winter, warming up bones and creating smiles. You're rain on a summer's day, soaking the sweat away. You're all things good and kind and lovely. You're love and sex and beauty. You're the definition of passion. Cigarettes and coffee and fresh and home. You're my favourite scent. My favourite sound. My favourite sight. My favourite thought. My favourite feeling. You touch me and I feel you everywhere. Burying into my being. You're mine. My favourite scent. Cigarettes, coffee, fresh, home. My home.

I loved the complexity of some but simply adored the simplicity of others. Reading the ones which don't hide behind metaphors, they're purer somehow.

Pain engraved my brain. Hurt twisted through my mind. Envy soaked through my eyes. You appeared , all those emotions vanished. I began to love the way you loved me. I found myself loving you more. I used to hate you, I hated hating you. I love you now, I love loving you and  I love you loving me.

I smile, a huge smile and I feel it seep through my bones, warming my cold body, feeling finally flooding back in.

Red lips and brown eyes. Black curls and tattooed skin. I'd like to paint in you in my mind so I could have you here forever

The few words are the only ones on this particular page, the rest is filled with pictures of us, a picture of the M necklace I gave her, a picture of my marked neck, her marks. There's a picture of us kissing, ones in which any other circumstance would cause my skin to heat up and my blood to rush south. There’s sweet pictures too, of us in Rome, our hands intertwined, pictures of our tattoos we got together. 

The ropes within unwind under your command. Just say the word and I'll follow you to the ends of the earth.

Matty is sun kissed cheeks on summer days, cherry blossom on withered ground, swirling clouds amongst technicolour skies.

I turn the page and a larger piece of paper falls out, I unfold it carefully, taking my time in reading the words I find on the page:

Dear George,

I’m writing to you from Rome. Seems a bit weird to be writing you a letter knowing I’m going to be seeing you soon. Was feeling nostalgic I guess… Remember the days when we were both on tour and we’d write these big long letters to each other from wherever in the world we were. It was such a pain trying to make sure they were sent to you before you left that city or town. I remember us arguing one day because Jamie had complained about the amount of money he kept having to spend to retrieve the letters when had arrived a little too late. Grumpy sod.

Anyway, you’d usually write about how the tour was going, how Matty had been getting on your nerves. I always wondered whether you just said that to make me feel better for not getting on with your best friend. You’d send me pictures of you with Ross and Hann and I’d send you pictures of me and the girls (usually receiving a text from you or Macdonald after that made me want to hit you around the head - pervs)

Strange how different things seem now. Like now for instance - I'm writing this, by the pool (this place is fucking huge, you and Charli would love it here), Matty’s napping next to me. He’s sleeping with this dopey grin and… I love him George. So much. Please don’t try to cringe too much reading this. His skin isn’t as pale anymore. Shock right? Our pale boy has a tan!

 I want to thank you G. Thank you for everything. You’ve been the best friend I could have ever asked for… but thank you for bringing me him. Matty is everything George. The way he loves me is nothing I have ever felt before. I know now that everything up until now is worth it because now I have him.

I can’t help but wonder how I ever could have hated him. He cares so deeply for every one G… sometimes I wonder if it's too much, if he’s going to get hurt in the end. But that’s okay. Because he has me. And he has you and the boys. And together we love him deeply (still probably half as much as he loves us). I’m going to spend every day of my life proving to him that he is worthy.

So thank you George. He’s the love of my life. He owns my heart, now and forever. 

Your best friend - Lou x

My heart picks up in my chest, I love her, more than anyone I have ever loved in my life. I feel tears fall from my eyes, coating my cheeks. I swipe them away before they have a chance to hit the pages. 

But you... It was different with you

That's my favourite, my fingers find the page and I carefully tear the page out, I fold it gently and tuck it into my pocket.

I stand from the sofa, feeling weightless now, feeling love for her in every fibre of my being. I walk around the venue, trying to find her. I find George who smiles at me widely.

"glad to see you perked up a bit" he says with a hand to my shoulder.

"Where's Lou?" My abruptness takes him back but it doesn't stop him from answering. I appreciate that.

"She's with your mum in the kitchen, they're baking" George clearly sees my shocked face and he chuckles "yeah your mum is here" I hug him tightly before I leave him, heading for the kitchen.

My legs move too quickly for my brain to register but I don't care, I need to find her. My mum spots me before Lou does and she smiles widely.

"Hello Matthew, feeling any better?" She asks, Lou looks up at me as she finishes speaking.

"Explained to your mum that you were feeling a little tired" Lou explains and I nod, smiling at her.

"Much better mum, thank you" I say leaning down to place a peck against her cheek.

Lou's hands are covered in flour and it makes me smile. I squeeze past my mother with a gentle "excuse me" . My hands find Lou's waist and I hitch her up, making her smile.

"Matty put the poor woman down" my mother scolds me but I don't stop. Lou's hands find my shoulders as she feels like she's going to fall.

"I've got flour on your shirt now idiot" she says but she's still smiling. She looks down at me and I see everything in her eyes, every emotion, every indication that she loves me. I love her, god do I love you. 

"I don't care, come here" I say, one hand finding her chin and lightly pulling her towards me.

"Matty, your mum" she says, eyes flicking over my shoulder to my mum who giggles to herself, busying herself with the baking..

"I. Don't. Care" I say with the widest smile I think has ever graced my features.

"What has gotten into you?" She asks, smiling widely. Her eyes sparkle. God she's beautiful.

"I love you Lou, so much, you're everything. I'm going to spend the rest of my life with you, if that's okay with you" I say, I hear my mum coo behind us and Lou smiles above me, her legs wrapping around my waist to support herself more.

"Fine with me Healy" she says, leaning down to press her lips against mine finally. The kiss is kept short to save my mother seeing us in a compromising position.

"But you, it was different with you" I repeat her own words back to her and she nods.

"Yeah..." She says and I see her eyes well with tears, I feel myself copying her, placing her back on the floor but moving my head down to kiss her again. I hold her to my side as I turn to my mother.

"I'll leave you both to bake," I say, pressing a firm kiss to her cheek, smiling at my mother. .

"Okay" she says with a smile. I hug my mum tightly before I walk out, but I don't miss my mother's words

"That boy is obsessed with you, I've never ever known him to love someone as much as you" she says.

"Trust me, the same goes for him. I'd do anything for him" Lou's words make me smile and so I continue walking.

I find George again, happy to find him with Hann and Ross.

"Good you're all here" I say, drawing their attention towards me.

"Everything okay mate?" Ross asks and I smile as I nod.

"I need your help"

"Anything," George says.

"I'm going to ask Lou to marry me" they all smile widely at me, I like that. My eyes flick to George’s. He seems expressionless for a second.

“If that’s okay with you” I ask, I see George’s lip quiver slightly and his fingers grip his bottom lip as he nods. I see tears coat his eyes as he steps forward, grabbing my hand in his and pulling me forward into a hug.

���Fuck yeah” I find myself crying too. I feel two more sets of arms wrapping around us. I smile.

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[scarletwinterxx]

bigger than the whole sky - haechan imagine

helloooo, i think a few months ago i wrote a haechan dad scenario. but after watching The Lost Boys, it made more emotional🥺 our hyuck would surely be the best dad in the future💛

here's a sequel to that scenario😊

pt. 1 - Lee and Lily

if you have a request or scenario you want me to do, just send me a message I'll see what I can do😊💌

For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.

and if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2023 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)

There are many things you admire about your husband, from his cheekiness to his voice to his assuring words. But one thing you love the most about him now, something you only found out after your daughter was born, is how great of a father he is.

Haechan is very busy with work but he is a family man above all. You and Nari comes first. Which is why he decided to take the duty of driving and picking Nari up from school.

"You sure you want to do it?" you ask him the first day he did it

"Yea, gives us more daddy-daughter time. Take the morning for yourself" he tells you, kissing you on the forehead

"You know she loves you right? I know you, the wheel are turning in there" you tell him, weaving your fingers around his neck and playing with the ends of his hair

The moment Haechan found out you were pregnant, he vowed to always be there for your child. He always dreamt of being a father, a father who will always be there for their kid. And he has, but there are still times he feels like he missed too much because he's too busy with his career.

"Times flies by so fast, she used to fit right in my arm. Now she's running around, and she talks more than me. Would you believe that"

You chuckle at his words. She does have the talent to talk your ear off, she's now at that age where everything ends with a "why?" question.

"Daddy, why is the sky blue?" "Mommy, why do the fishy float?" "Daddy, why is this sweet and that one yucky?" referring to salt and sugar

Just some of the daily questions of Lee Nari.

But really that girl can ask you why water is wet every breakfast and you still wouldn't have it any other way.

And so the tradition started. Haechan is now on school duty while you stay at home.

"She does this cute thing when I drop her off, she goes bye bye daddy I love you" he tells you one day.

"How many times have you cried in the car after she said that?" you tease him

"Like 2 maybe 3, the first time was the worst. After she said it, she just walked away and left me"

"Stop being dramatic, she was just going to pre-school" you laugh

"The other day she asked me why was the sun chasing us when we were driving to school"

"What did you say?"

"Can't remember, something along the lines of 'the sun likes nice people'. I'm running out of answers" he tells you dramatically, making you chuckle once again.

It's been months since that routine started. the two Lee's enjoying the quick drive from and to school. Haechan would play his favorite songs while Nari sings along, his heart swelling with pride as he listens to his daughters singing.

One particular morning, it unexpectedly got hectic. You left earlier than the two due to do some errand and get a quick checkup. While on their way to school, Haechan got an urgent call from work.

"I just got here at Nari's school, why?" he waited until he was infront of the school and the car on stop before answering the call. He spots the teacher who welcomes the student every morning and fetch them outside, waving over to them and opening the backseat door.

Haechan was still busy on the phone while Nari waits, her teacher ushers her inside as Haechan smiles and wave as his daughter walks away.

Just as he was about to pull up on the driveway to get his stuff ready for work, he received another call this time from you.

"Yes?" he answered

"Did you drive Nari today?"

Confused, he answered your question "Yes, I just dropped her off. Why did something happen at school?". He didn't even wait for your answer, already starting the engine once again to drive back to her school

"Her teacher just called me, she was bawling her eyes out apparently. Had a mini melt down when you didn't say goodbye to her"

Just then Haechan remembered their little tradition. Feeling his blood run cold, he didn't say i love you to Nari and now she's sad.

"Oh my Nari, I'm driving back there"

"No need, I'm like 5 minutes away from the school. I'll handle it. You have a meeting today too" you tell him

"But-" he tries to protest

"It'll be fine, we'll see you later okay"

How can he focus on work when all he can think about is how he made his little girl upset. When you got home from Nari's school, it wasn't a surprise to see your husband sitting on the living room couch. Nothing but silence inside the house.

"Hey, she's fine now" you say, catching his attention

"I really didn't mean to forget, I was on the phone. I waved goodbye to her, I guess it flew my mind" he tells you, you can tell he's just as upset as Nari was.

You shot him a small smile before walking towards him. Immediately he opens his arms, hugging you around the waist while you pat his head lovingly.

"If it makes you feel any better, I forgot her favorite blanket the other day and she said she felt upset with me" you hear him chuckle from below you

"But then she hugged me and said it was okay. Our little girl doesn't have a single bone of hate in her body so don't worry too much okay? You're her favorite person ever" you added

"What if all she'll ever remember is me forgetting to say I love you to her?" he asks, looking up at you.

Sighing, you pull away to sit beside him but Haechan pulls you over to make you sit on his lap. Like he just needed your comfort right now.

"What she'll remember is how good of a father you are, how you practically hung the stars in the sky. You've always been the best dad, don't go doubting it now" you tell him, cradling his face in your hands.

Your words are always enough to wash away any doubt he has. It's a magic you posses. With that, he feels a lot better.

"She'll be home in a few hours, why don't we go and pick her up? Meanwhile, go do some work" you tell him, giving him a quick kiss before standing up.

A few hours later, the two of you drove to pick up Nari. You go to the front office to get her while Haechan waits outside, holding a bouquet of flowers for his little girl.

You and Nari walk outside hand in hand. Haechan thought she was going to be mad at him but the moment Nari sees her dad, she made a dash towards him. Immediately Haechan kneels down to catch her in a tight hug. Picking her up and hugging her close to him.

"Hi baby, dad's so so so sorry about this morning. Sorry I forgot to say I love you" he mumbles, the little Lee just hugs him for a while. You got to where the two were standing, taking the flowers from Haechan so he could carry Nari more comfortably.

Nari pulls back to look at her dad, the two of you waiting for what she has to say

"I got sad because I didn't get to say I love you to dad" she pouts

"You got sad because you didn't say I love you to me?" Haechan asks back, Nari nodding at her father's question

"Oh lovebug, you don't have to be sad about dad. I know you love me very very much" he tells her

"But I always say it to you"

You smile at your husband and your little girl. Loving hearing their argument of who loves more.

"Even when you don't tell daddy, I already know. But okay, I promise to not leave you until you say it to me. How does that sound?"

"Okay, I love you daddy" she says then hugs Haechan again.

"I love you, more than anything in this world, my Nari" he looks over at you, mouthing the same words to you.

You sent him a smile. Guiding the two over to the car,

"Okay now that's done, what do you want for dinner?" you ask the two

"Kimchi fried rice!" you hear the tiny voice say from the backseat.

"You heard the girl" you chuckle

"I'll cook you the best kimchi fried rice, it will be the best ever" Haechan says, starting the car and driving away. The conversation continues, with Nari's endless stories and wonders while the two of you answer.

He looks over at you, taking your hand and giving it a quick kiss. Just then you hear Nari's voice again,

"Mom, is the moon sleeping during the day?"

[oweninadaydream]

𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇 || 𝐂𝐇.𝟏

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : Hangman is the certified ladies' man and everyone thinks they can read him like a book, but what neither the Dagger Squad nor anyone else can even begin to imagine is where the hell Jake has been going every Saturday night for the last few months…

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x male!character

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 : mentions of alcohol, some making out but nothing too smutty, emotional distress lmao, age gap relationship (27-35), some religious trauma, self-deprecating thoughts, post Top Gun : Maverick, the Dagger squad is stationed together.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 2k

𝐚/𝐧 : Gif by @tay-swifts , M/N (Male Name). Hello beautiful people!!! I'm so exited about posting this project I've been working on for a while. I just wanted to say that since it's my first time writing for Jake this might be a bit OC Jake but I do hope I got it right hehe. Enjoy the fic and stay tuned for the next parts!!!

It was well after midnight when Jake arrived at the club’s entrance. The throbbing bass emanating from inside made the whole building shake, making his mind wonder what it would be like to live on top of such an obnoxiously loud place, contrasting with the quietness of the accommodations the Navy offered. The reflection of the neon sign reading  “Mon Ange” turned his natural olive-toned skin into a vivid dark azure that matched perfectly with the baby blue in his eyes. The smokers (all with stamps on their hands) were all gathered some feet away from the door to get back in after dragging a final puff from their cigarettes. The queue was not very long, mainly because everyone who was meant to be there had arrived way earlier than him. He reprimanded himself for getting there so late ; in less than two hours the nightclub would shut its doors and Jake would feel like he wasted four hours of his life for nothing. Well, his journey would not be in vain if he caught a glimpse of- 

“Jake”

This was L.A, a city 118 miles away from the Marine Corps Air Station located in Miramar, which is a two-hour long drive away from everything he knows. He had to remind himself of those facts to avoid spiraling  at the sound of his name in such a place; he hated how his body kept reacting to these kinds of situations, but not even a skilled lieutenant like himself could take the reins of these unnamed emotions that coursed through his entire being.

"What are you doing here by the door? I was worrying about you not showing up today, I was just about to send a search party. C'mon , let's grab a drink. Perhaps I can even convince you to dance this time" A wide playful smirk accompanied the flirty comment exquisitely and, even though Jake was more than used to these antics, his heart skipped a beat. Trying to compose himself, he answered while staring at the concrete floor. 

"I don't belong on that dance floor and y'know it, darlin' "

“Oh don’t say that, the 30s are the new 20s! … Even if you’re not planning to dance, you must’ve driven all the way over here for something, right?”

The damn question hit him like a truck. He could try to think of the right answer, but putting something into words made it terrifyingly real, and that was exactly what he'd been avoiding for months. The breeze made them both shiver, as the party outfits didn’t properly protect them from the chilly weather. 

“You're right” he muttered “Okay, lead the way. Make it worth the while, mh?" he teasingly replied. Even if what he was doing was definitely outside of his comfort zone, something about the constant banter between them calmed him.

"Don't you always have an amazing time with me? I thought that was why you only talk to me" a fake pout appeared on the face which Seresin couldn't help but to stare intensely in awe. Their hands intertwined and the pilot quickly melted into that comforting touch. His companion briefly exchanged some words with the bouncer and the doors opened for them. 

"Thankfully it was Joseph working tonight, I don't think Marcus would have let you in for free just like that" “I’m sure you would've charmed him into doing whatever you wanted anyway”

The thick air of the room embraced him as soon as the doors closed and the familiar feeling appeared in the pit of his stomach almost instantly; it seems like it was yesterday when he first stepped into the nightclub he now knows like the back of his hand, but in reality, that day was what it feels like ages ago. Still, the contradictions that manifested within him every time he returned persisted and only grew each day.

“I’ll go to the bar while you stay here and look pretty, okay? Same drink as always?”

It was because of moments like these that Hangman felt comfortable enough to let his guard down and be his usual extroverted self. Grabbing his wrist to stop him from going any further, he raised his voice so his words could be heard even though the music was top volume. “ Don’t you even dare to try to pay for those drinks, they’re on me.”

“Here it is, the Texan charm of Jake Seresin. I didn’t know you could apply those rules to this situation. Are you trying to imply I’m the girl in this whole affair? Shouldn't we at least draw lots for it?”

"Very funny, M/N'' the hostility that emanated from his rolling eyes made the other man realize his comment had affected Jake on a deeper level than intended. “Hey I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t hav- I know it’s  a touchy subject and I’m extremely sorry, please forgive me” the regret was visible in his expression and it also could be detected in the stuttering caused by the words rushing their way out of his mouth trying to obtain his forgiveness as fast as possible. Jake took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a second. 

Hangman was no saint, he didn’t go to church every Sunday or tried to look for a good christian wife to have kids with like his father did in his day. He knew God was not exactly pleased with the way he was running his life but he used to think that when the time came, He would welcome him with open arms (after having apologized profusely, that is). But now that he had fallen for the most vile trick in the book, he couldn't trust that previous statement anymore. Lust was a capital sin, pretty serious if you asked any priest from the church the Seresin family attended back in Texas, but sodomy? Say goodbye to eternal salvation, son. If Jake was being honest, the promise of heaven or the threat of hell didn't scare him. It was the destruction of all the life lessons that made him act the way he acted,  of his purpose as a son, as a man. The thing that truly haunted him at night  was the thought of a deity (and his father)  designing him to be this flawless individual with a very clear life path , only to end up as a filthy, disgusting f-

“Hey, are you okay? Would you like me to leave you alone for a bit?”

The thought of M/N walking away while he sank deeper and deeper in the sea of guilt and fury frightened him. “Please don’t” he begged “everything’s fine, I promise. Let’s down a couple shots and , who knows, maybe I’ll be in the mood to dance for a bit” the last comment was a futile attempt to hide the everlasting agony that clouded his mind. M/N moved so they were a few inches away and raised his hand to caress his cheek. His next step consisted in resting his arms around his shoulders and starting kissing him delicately in the neck and in the whole face in general, in hopes to kiss the discomfort away. 

How could something so delicate and sweet be so dirty? Was it even dirty to begin with? What about the women he had dated? He was attracted to them but now he- Too many questions Jake was not willing to answer that night. He only wanted one thing, and he was about to claim it. 

After regaining control of himself, Jake put his right hand on the younger male’s back to guide him to the counter where people were piling up fighting to get the barman’s attention. Being as attractive and well-built as he was, he obtained the alcoholic beverages rather quickly. After the last drop of tequila had made its way down their throats, Hangman took control and led him onto the dance floor. His mind was only filled of the smell of M/N’s cologne mixed with his natural scent enhanced by their bodies crashing against each other while swaying to the 2000s pop remixes, his eyes fixed on his partner’s hypnotizing movements and his hands focused on feeling what they can reach, testing if they can go further in their journey through M/N’s body. Jake was simply standing close and moving according to the song's beat but in a subtle way, just like he would do at the locals he frequented with his coworkers ; manly enough to keep his dignity intact but provocative enough to awake that lustful hunger in the other person’s soul.

‘Mon Ange’ had finally closed down and the two men were still all over each other on the angelino streets. The tingle settling in his chest could only be compared with the adrenaline rush he had previously experienced on those wild nights spent in college, the farewell by the porch of the first girl he had taken on a date or the night out after his first deployment; if he closed his eyes he could swear he was 20 again, but reality made sure to remind him of those fifteen more years that had passed. 

M/N had this juvenile thing about him, Jake couldn’t guess confidently his age from afar and his curiosity was finally satiated after befriending him and asking him about it directly ; he was 27, even though he looked some years younger. His bold character combined with his kindness and humor made M/N resemble a butterfly flying around collecting the pollen from every flower in the garden and making it seem effortless. That was one of the many things that hooked Jake on him as if he were the most addicting drug out there, making him throw away his plan of not getting attached and limiting this experience with sporadic hookups that would end then and there, never with the same person twice. That was the problem, he appeared and started moving his hips to some song, making the whole room turn around him and ever since then (even if Jake was still in denial), he was a goner.

The next thing he knew, he was laying down on M/N’s bed, a king size mattress close to a very big window that allowed him to take in the beautiful sight of the sleeping city. He had only been to the apartment twice, but he had always  left before the sun had made its appearance in the sky, moved by remorse and skepticism. This time though, he had stayed the whole night that was filled with passionate sex and heart to heart conversations and finally some cuddling that lured him to rest for a while. Now he was wide awake, sitting against the headboard, resting his eyes on the sunrise and on the slumbering figure facing him. He looked so calm, so peaceful. In that moment, turning his gaze away, he tried to repress a sob that came with a single tear falling through his left cheek. 

M/N had always known he was queer, embracing his bisexuality in childhood. Jake had never had any problems with people who were not straight, even if the people around him growing up did, but everything was different when it came to himself. For fuck’s sake, he was closer to being 40 than from his teenage years, what was he doing? He could only paralyze at the idea of anyone seeing what he was doing. It was definitely too late for him. Risking his life everyday up in the sky felt like a minor burden compared to the endurance of the dilemmas he carried with him everywhere, just like Christ had carried the cross all the way to Calvary.

He could feel himself falling for the person right next to him, and that was the worst thing that had ever happened to Lieutenant Jacob Seresin. His calloused hand cupped M/N’s soft face, making the other man lean in closer in search of that delightful warmth. Jake’s lips burned in desperate need to say something out loud. His heart started palpitating at a dangerous speed, as he knew the thing trying to escape from his mind was a cruel thing to say and that he was a horrible being just by thinking that. It was no one’s fault and it had no solution, yet the idea popped up in his mind like an unwanted ad appearing on your phone. His chest ached at the possibility of M/N hearing the words, so he tried to whisper as quietly as it was humanly possible. 

“I wish you were a girl”

[violet-fluff]

💙 Levi x Reader

Letter from Santa

Yes, I know Levi’s birthday is on Christmas. But to keep this drabble short, I left that out.

Levi never understood why you would be so festive during Christmas. To him, it was just another holiday that would quickly lose spirit after the day is over. But to you, all of December is Christmas.

“What are you doing now?” Levi asks, as he leans against the wall to watch you work away in the mess hall kitchen.

Smoothing out your apron, you pipe frosting onto bare cookies. “I’m making treats for everyone tomorrow. Tomorrow is gingerbread day.”

Levi clicks his tongue with a roll of his eyes. “Gingerbread day? What kind of fucking day is that?”

“Now now, let’s not be a Scrooge.” You say as you try not to let his words get to you.

“I don’t see what the big deal of all this is. Just get someone a gift and get on with your day.”

You pause and turn to look at him, frosting slowly spilling out of your piping as you hold it up. “Are you here to help, or here to complain?”

Levi stares at you for a moment before walking out, causing you to shake your head.

—-

The next day, everyone gathers in the mess hall to eat the cookies you’ve made the night before.

Levi watches as you smile and mingle with the other cadets. “I don’t see the big deal with getting so festive just for a holiday.”

Hanji, your long time friend, swats his arm. “Leave her be and let her enjoy this. It makes up for her not being able to celebrate.”

“What do you mean by that?” He asks.

“Hmm, well Y/N didn’t grow up in the best home with the best parents. She was never able to do anything like this when she was a kid.” Hanji explains.

Levi grunts while sipping his tea. “I didn’t either, but you don’t see me prancing around with glitter and cookies.”

Hanji sighs. “People handle trauma in different ways, Levi. If this makes her happy, then leave her be.”

——

That same night is Christmas Eve, but you are done celebrating for the day as most of the scouts ventured out of base to be with their families.

There’s a knock on your door and you open it to greet Levi on the other side.

“Levi, come in. Did you need something before bed?” You ask with a yawn.

He shrugs. “Just making sure you aren’t out doing some weird Christmas voodoo shit before tomorrow.”

You can’t help but laugh. “No…I did that earlier.”

Levi looks around the room. “What? No letter to Santa?”

You hum in thought as you lazily sit on your bed. “No, I don’t write those anymore.”

“You used to? That’s cute.”

“When I was a kid, yes.” You say sternly but with a smile. “I would write to him every year. I wouldn’t ask for anything in specific, just if he had extra gifts to give if I could have one for being a good kid. I never got anything. The last time I did write to Santa, I did want something. It was a doll I saw in a shop window. It was the prettiest doll I had ever seen and it had a puffy blue dress with sparkles. When I handed the letter to my mom to send out to him, she told me that he would definitely get me the doll if he thought I was a good enough kid.”

Levi noticed you tried to hide your sad smile with a neutral one. “I didn’t get the doll. My mom said I wasn’t good enough that year…” You laugh to fill the awkwardness of the story you just threw onto him. “Anyway, I gave up after that! So no more letters to Santa. Unless you want to write one with me.”

“I’ll pass.” Levi says while feeling guilty.

—-

The next morning, you wake up and see fog out the window. Perfect Christmas weather.

You put on some warm clothes and open the door to head out but stop when you see a box on the ground. It’s a tiny box with a snowflake pattern and a letter pinned to the top addressed to you.

You open the letter to read it.

Dear Y/N,

I would like to personally tell you that you have made it on my nice list. As promised, I have brought you a gift. A token to represent someone with a real golden heart.

From the jolly man at the North Pole,

Santa

Your heart races as you finish reading the letter. You didn’t notice your face hurting from the giant smile going across your face.

With excitement, you open the box to reveal a golden necklace with a heart shaped locket.

A tear falls down your cheek as you gently touch the piece of jewelry.

“Thanks, Levi.”

[deceitfuldevout]

Hidden Treasure (Part 8)

Arranged Marriage AU: Dark!Tommy Shelby x Wife!Reader

Warning(s): Angst, Fluff, Mentions of past domestic violence.

Author's note(s): Innocent heartfelt chapter (cue the fluff).

Your husband would have Finn either send messages to you, or simply keep an eye on your wellbeing. Although Finn hadn’t a clue of what was going on, he knew you of all people didn’t deserve this sort of treatment. He made sure to visit as often as he could for company.

You were grateful the moment Tommy finally let you out that dreadful basement. You hadn’t forgotten the promise made a few weeks ago to Finn. To bake him a signature custard from your bakery. He’d been dying to try. Soon, it became common for the youngest Shelby brother to stop by. He would either have a letter or message from Tommy. Most of them were if your husband would be late or earlier from work.

You’d pack Finn some lunch before bidding him a farewell. Most of the time it was just you and Charlie in one big, empty house. To say that he was a sweet child was an understatement. He had the power to make anyone’s cold heart melt. How could such a charming child come from a man like Tommy? You hadn’t a clue.

Of course, you could never replace Grace. You weren’t the one who’d given birth to him. But Charlie was your son in every single way that mattered. There were even a few special moments you’d spend with the other Shelby family members. You especially enjoyed bonding with the women of the family. Teatime with Polly was a particular favorite. She would give you as much advice as a wise woman could. In a way, Polly became your second mother.

As you were setting up the table Polly had been bouncing Charlie on her lap. Finn decided to stop by since today’s work was slower than usual, he choose to stay a little longer. Polly examines her finished tea. Her expression was confused at first, then startled. She shows Finn the cup, and it was as if he'd read something from it.

Polly let’s out a small sigh, “Tell me my dear…” she places her cup on the table, “…has my nephew been treating you well?”

You’re at a loss for words. How could you answer to her? Should you tell her the truth? How would she react? You made up your mind to keep it short and subtle, “Tommy provides me with everything a wife may need. What more could a woman want?” you try your best to force a smile, hoping that it was a good enough answer.

But Polly was suspicious that something wrong within your marriage. She could sense it, “You didn’t answer my question dear, has he been treating you well?” her voice is sterner this time. You tense. Your heart races, “I-I’m not sure what you mean...” you play off. Polly could tell that over the period of time since you've been married, the flicker of light in your eyes had disappeared. Blown out by the cold blues that followed into your nightmares.

At that point, Finn has had it. As soon as Polly leaves, he tells you of his plan, “Tommy’s going to some event next week, and he won’t be back until the morning,”

“Finn…” you warn. It wouldn’t be a good idea breaking your husband's trust. A man like Tommy never forgets. Finn grumbles, “I’m sick and tired of seeing him treat you like--like the dirt on his shoes! The bloke!” his hands ball into fists. You don’t think twice about his statement, in fact you understood completely why your new brother had the right to react like this. You sigh, reaching for his hands to hold, “Could you do me a favor?”

You were kept busy for the next few days, planning on yet another escape. Hopefully the last. Finn would send letters to your sister who lived in the next town. It had been quite a while since the two of you would communicate. Her and her husband had been busy since delivering their new baby.

So, it would take time to pack up their belongings before moving in with your parents. Finn would stop by the postal, on the way to wherever he was heading in order to avoid suspicion. For once it felt like everything was going your way.

As each day went by, you grew more excited to leave this place, once and for all. You let out your hair, made yourself more presentable, you even started smiling again. Tommy took note of how the corners of your lips would curl upwards on their own as you hummed a tune while making supper.

He’d been silently observing you adjusting to your new life. After putting away the dishes, you hoist Charlie on a hip before leaving the kitchen. Tommy listens carefully to your footsteps leading up the stairs before following them. He stops in front of his bedroom door, reaching for the knob.

But before he’s had a chance to twist it open a faint sound of laughter erupts. He opens the door to spot you and Charlie on the bed. Your hands reaching to tickle the boy’s sides. Seemingly unknowing that your husband is witnessing the display of affection.

You hoist the toddler into the air. Tommy notices your expression. For the first time in months, you're actually smiling. It was like some sort of trance. He leans against the door frame. Seeing you with his boy felt, in a strange way, right. As if you both were meant to be. His son loves you. You drop Charlie onto your bosom to catch your breath.

Soft giggles manage to slip out of every exhale. Charlie’s hair tickles your chin so you tilt it to the side. That’s when you notice Tommy standing at the doorway. His posture is more relaxed than usual. For how long had he been standing there?

You look away from his gaze. It always did make you nervous. His fingers twitch, curling into his palms, “I uh...” he slides them into his pockets, “I want you to be my guest for an event,” Tommy looks up, waiting for an answer. You raise a brow and sit up, still holding the boy in your arms, “Who’ll watch over Charlie?”

“Finn offered to keep an eye on him.” of course.

“Alright,” you agreed, already knowing how it would play out. Tommy nods, “I’ll be back, ‘bout three hours from now.” he checks his pocket watch. Double taking the time. You hadn’t planned for him to take you anywhere. It’ll only delay your plans. But you couldn’t risk him questioning his decision, “Sure thing.” you return. Tommy looks as though he had one last thing to say, “And uh...wear something nice,” He turns away, leaving as soon as he came. Now that was odd.

[ladycatofwinterfell]

Idk if you’re taking prompts but I just thought about this and 👀

Early in their marriage Ned is already hopelessly in love with Catelyn but he doesn’t think she feels the same and fears she still years for his brother. So when she tells him she’s pregnant again (Sansa) and that she hopes it’s a boy for them to name after Brandon, Ned gets sick with jealously and insecurity and even more sick that he feels like this way, because he knows Catelyn wasn’t supposed to be his wife anyways ✨

I didn’t think of an particular ending so if you want to write this prompt at any point you can get creative. I just LOVE jealous!Ned

I’m always taking prompts! I can’t always fulfil them very quickly and sometimes I never get to them, but it’s always worth throwing me an ask if you have an idea <3

Here is Ned being jealous and insecure with a sweet ending because I just had to. Enjoy!

The first time Ned had ever laid eyes upon his wife was on their wedding day, though he had learned of her long before that. He had never met her gaze before they swore themselves to one another, though he had heard of how blue her eyes were. He had never touched her hair before they took to bed on their wedding night, though he had been told of how soft it was.

He had been fostered in the Vale for years when the betrothal between Brandon and Catelyn was decided upon. He had received the news of it not much later in a letter from his father. Then, not long thereafter, he had been sent a letter from Brandon. By then Brandon had met his future wife and wrote of how she wasn’t a woman grown yet, though that she would be lovely once she was. Blue eyes one could drown in, auburn hair, a face that would be beautiful once she grew into it. Sweet and well mannered with a good head on her shoulder.

When he read the letter Ned had imagined what the girl, Catelyn Tully, looked like. What she was like. He had not paid it much more mind, it had not mattered to him. Why would it? He had not himself been a man grown yet, he had had other concerns. So small and feeble he could not even remember what they were, though they had seemed great to him then.

Over the years that lead up to the wedding Ned had heard of Catelyn Tully many times. Through letters and from Brandon when he visited home. He had listened with half an ear as his brother bragged about the woman he would marry, it had not been important. Until suddenly it was so very important.

Brandon had died and Ned had taken his place. In the end Ned had been the one to wed Catelyn Tully. It had been difficult to truly see her on the day of their wedding, his mind had been flooded with so many other things. So much death and destruction.

The pain remained once the dust had settled and they were both in Winterfell. Though life was calmer, it was easier to see. See for himself all that Brandon had told him of.

Brandon had not exaggerated when he spoke of Catelyn. She was beautiful, she was sweet and kind, she was clever and had her wits with her. His people took to her quickly and she was a good mother to their son.

His brother had never mentioned if Catelyn thought as highly of him as he did of her. Still she must have. Brandon had been handsome and charming. All girls had wanted Brandon, everyone had wanted Brandon. So had always been the way of things. Of course Catelyn had wanted to wed him, of course she had loved him. No one could fault her for it, he had been her betrothed and for years she had known she would be his wife.

With a sigh Ned fell back on his bed, looking up at the canopy above him. The thought of Catelyn was eating at his mind, leaving him with a weight on his chest. One moment he looked at her and felt his heart flutter, the next he found himself full of dread.

A few days earlier they had been in quarrel over Jon again. She had once again asked him to send the boy away, Ned had once again refused. As it had been for almost three years and would continue to be. Before he had been left more angered than anything else, that time he had felt something else. He had been angry with her, though it had been tinged with something else. Some regret. Not over bringing Jon home, but over speaking so harshly to her. It had not been necessary, he could have remained calm even when faced with her persistence in wanting Jon gone. What she said did not matter, he knew Jon would remain in Winterfell.

Catelyn had been cold to him since, only spoke to him when necessary. He had returned that. The thought of apologising had crossed his mind, still he had not done so. Apologising to her was difficult. Everything that had to do with her was difficult.

Ned shot up into a sitting position when there was a knock on his door. He considered sending whoever it was away. He was tired. So tired. He wanted the day to be through, wanted no one else to speak to him.

“It’s Catelyn, my lord” a voice said before he had made his decision. “May I enter?”

What business did she have with him at that hour? Was it something that had to do with Robb? He could not refuse her.

“Come!” he called as he pushed himself off the bed.

He was glad for that he had not had time to undress.

Even as he had called for her to enter he had to wait before she did so. Enough time for his heart to start beating faster. Enough for him to regret not having told her they could speak on the morrow.

Catelyn was not smiling when she opened the door, though a smile appeared on her face when she looked at him. He was surprised by that smile, by how joyful she seemed.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit, my lady?” he asked.

“I have something I wish to tell you” Catelyn said, her eyes gleaming. ”May I sit?”

The way her joy made him feel somewhat suspicious sickened him. Why was he not happy that she was happy?

”Of course.”

He gestured towards the two chairs by the bedchamber’s hearth and Catelyn immediately moved to sit. She sat on the very edge of the seat, folding her hands in her lap.

Something in him wished to resist when he followed her lead and sat in the other chair.

”What did you wish to tell me, my lady?”

”I have been wanting to tell you all day” she began. ”Though I waited for a good moment to do so and that moment never presented itself. Forgive me for disturbing you so late in the day, my lord, I simply could not wait any longer.”

”You need not apologise” he assured her.

She was free to visit his bedchamber whenever she wished. If she wished to do so, that was.

Catelyn took a deep breath and then paused. While Ned waited for her to speak she left her chair and moved it closer to his before sitting again. That time she did not keep her hands in her lap, she instead took one of his hands into the both of hers.

For a second Ned forgot how to breathe, not made easier by what Catelyn said.

”I’m with child.”

His wife was with child, he would be a father again. Then the happiness washed over him, took him under entirely.

Last time she had been with child he had learned of it from a letter he had read in the middle of a war camp. It had brought him joy, though it had also brought a terrible worry. Then the times had been uncertain, it was no longer like that. The war was over, both of them were safe in Winterfell. They would have another child together, a brother or sister for Robb and Jon. Everything was well.

”That’s wonderful, my lady” he smiled, squeezing her hand.

”It’s still early, the maester advised me not to become too hopeful” Catelyn told him. ”Though I cannot help myself.”

“We shall pray to the gods, both old and new, for that everything goes well.”

If the gods saw fit they would have a healthy child.

The thought of holding their newborn child made him warm. He had not been there to hold Robb, it would be different that time.

On a whim he raised one of her hands to his lips and kissed the back of it, making her smile even wider.

His wife, his Lady Catelyn, the mother of his children. They had made another child together, another life that would see the light of day. He wondered what it would look like, what its laughter would sound like, if it would be a boy or a girl.

“To believe you waited all day to tell me” he said.

How was he to sleep? He did not feel at all tired, he felt alive. Happy, so happy.

“I was not allowed to sit with you and tell you last time I was with child” Catelyn said softly. “I wanted it to feel right.”

It felt right, few things had ever felt so right.

“I am overjoyed.”

Never before had that word been so true.

“I hope it’s a boy” Catelyn continued. “If so I wish to name him Brandon for your brother.”

His heart dropped in his chest and it took only a moment for him to despise himself for it.

He had also thought of that, how he wished to name another son of theirs Brandon. Almost every generation of Starks had a Brandon, and he did wish to honour his late brother. The brother that had died because of his attempt to get their sister back. Still something turned in him when Catelyn put forward the suggestion.

There was nothing he could fault her for. She had loved his brother, a part of her most likely still did. Her loyalty to his memory was admirable and Ned had no right to her.

“Brandon is a fine name” he told her.

A good name for their boy. If it was a boy.

“A fine name for what will be a fine boy.”

Ned’s boy, Ned’s child. It should have been Brandon’s. All that belonged to him should have belonged to his brother. Some of it did still belong to his brother, Catelyn’s heart belonged to his brother. Did she wish it had been Brandon’s child? Ned did not truly want an answer.

Though Catelyn was not looking at Brandon, she was looking at him. She looked at him with soft eyes, and there was something he could almost recognise as loving. It made his heart ache.

~*~

Sansa was her name and she was the sweetest girl in the entire world. Small and frail and the most beautiful being Ned had ever seen.

It had been late in the evening when she began her journey into the world and not long after dawn Catelyn had brought her forth. A healthy girl, the maester had fairly quickly established, and the whole castle had breathed a sigh of relief. Ned most of all.

Hours later both mother and daughter were fast asleep. Catelyn in her bed and Sansa in Ned’s arms. Ned himself was rather tired, he had been awake for a day and half, though he did not wish to sleep. He wished to sit in a chair in his wife’s room and hold his newborn daughter so that Catelyn could sleep in peace.

It was a dream to finally be able to hold his child, the wait had been so very long. Since that evening when Catelyn came to tell him of the babe each day had passed slower than the next. Though the birth had come and it was a Sansa, not a Brandon. Ned was not disappointed in the least.

Outside the windows large snowflakes fell from a grey sky. It was not one of the wild and violent snowfalls, it was soft. The kind of snowfall that would have made the world still and silent had it not been for the bells. Bells ringing for the birth of a daughter of Winterfell.

“Do you hear that, little one?” he mumbled. “They ring for you. We have waited for you.”

His perfect daughter. Their perfect daughter. A daughter he and Catelyn had made together.

Sansa moved a little, though stayed asleep. She was so small, smaller than Jon had been. So little she weighed nothing at all, though strong all the same. She would thrive.

Carefully Ned left his seat and walked over to one of the windows, looking out at the castle. The snow wrapped Winterfell in a white blanket, brought a peace to the castle. It was a beautiful sight.

“A day like this the snow is good to you” he said in a low voice. “You will learn it is not always like that. Though I will keep you safe until you also learn how to survive.”

Nothing would harm his little girl.

“Not a day old and you’re warning her of winter.”

He turned and looked at Catelyn.

“I didn’t mean to wake you, forgive me.”

She smiled at him from under heavy eyelids. Her hair, matted with sweat, laid in a braid over her shoulder. She was pale and had dark circles under her eyes. Tired and torn from the night, still she had never been more beautiful.

“It wasn’t due to any fault of yours” she sighed. “It’s difficult to rest easy now.”

The same could not be said of Sansa, she remained asleep.

Ned went to sit on the side of her bed so that Catelyn could also look at the sleeping babe.

“What a beautiful daughter we have” she said softly.

She reached out and let a finger run down Sansa’s red cheek.

“She takes after her mother in that” Ned told her.

Catelyn huffed at that, though he saw that it brought some colour to her face.

“Thank you” Ned said before he could stop himself.

He had looked at Catelyn and their child and been overcome by a wave of gratefulness. Catelyn was his wife and Sansa was his daughter, and it had not been meant to be that way but it was.

“For what?”

“For her.”

He loved Sansa so that his heart ached. It was a good ache. One he wanted more of.

[yesthisismycurrenthyperfixation]

🕷Spider becoming a Harley Queen guy.

The torture with the machine, the way of upbringing, the only person who cares about him is the villain, his fault. He begins to hear voices. And instead of helping him, they send him to the humans where they don't help him either, he ends up with the RDA again, but they don't notify Quaritch. He escapes and grabs weapons and goes on a rampage.

He locks himself in a room to send a message to the scientists. Living so many years with expert scientists in different areas has given him skills. He knows how to make a bomb.While the bomb is creating her, she makes a video, her hair is shaved, without blue markings, thinner and whiter. Maybe smoking.

And he begins to tell his truths to Jake, Neytiri, the scientists, and his adoptive parents. He was a baby when it all happened, and a child when he realized that no one really cared. Children know, children listen."You just wanted a reason to treat me badly, because you couldn't direct your hatred towards my father. yes, I called him father, because he did more in 4 months than any of you in 16 years" no 17, I have 17 years. .... I forgot my birthday.

Cries and laughs at times.

As he finishes connecting cables for the pump, he speaks directly to his brothers. He loves them, he misses them. But he is the oldest, he has to take care of them. He gives some advice to Kiri, Tuk, Lo ak and Neteyam.He repeats that he loves them. But it has to stop the RDA.

Send whatever you can get on the computers to help make plans.

And even a message to Quarith ago, he wished their time together had been longer.And he knows in his heart that he would have saved him. Trust him. see him.

He says goodbye as Grace and Jake finish their journals.

Miles Spider Socorro Quarith says goodbye.

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

BONUS

The message is seen by the entire Sully family, and some other Navi and scientists who had gathered at the Metkayina home to study the things that were left on the ship. Kiri was on her knees, at the end of the recording, she began to scream while being hugged by Tuk who is the same...Lo ak had to be put up with because he wanted to attack Jake, the scientists anyone. Neteyam ran out, his brother must have been dead right now but he must see. He flew off in his Ikran.

Quaritch He also saw the message, feels that a part died, hits trees, cries and screams in pain. His Ikran screams with his rider.

Anon, thank you for this prompt. I hope this is kind of what you are looking for. Also I’m assuming you meant Harley Quinn Spider so that is what this AU will be called.

I hope you enjoy these thoughts and the oneshot. Your bonus with everyone's reactions will be coming soon.

Harley Quinn Spider!

One thing to know about me is I am a huge fan of True Crime. Podcasts, documentaries, shows, movies, etc… I love everything True Crime. While reading this prompt my love of True Crime was going crazy and here is why.

People can only handle so much before they break! With everything Spider has gone through in his life; being orphaned at such a young age, the neglect, the abuse, knowing he was never loved or wanted, then add on the torture, the head trauma/injury from the machine, gaining a villain father figure, etc… it’s a miracle Spider hadn’t snapped earlier. In this prompt Spider has started having mental health issues, hearing voices probably caused my the machine and brain damage, and never received the help he so desperately needs. No instead he is shoved aside and neglected once again.

Anyone that enjoys True Crime knows that all of these things put together is a recipe for disaster. I'm not saying everyone that has suffered will become bad, infact most will not, but for the sake of this AU things will be different. Spider would have run, would have isolated himself and it was this isolation that would have given the RDA the chance to stumble upon him and capture him for the second time. And the RDA wouldn’t have given Spider the help he needed either. Quaritch would have if he had known which is why Ardmore never told him she had his kid.

It was only a matter of time before Spider escaped, taking out as many people as he possibly could before finding the perfect lab to lock himself up in. Spider grew up around RDA technology so locking and disabling the door would have been child’s play for him. Plus no one ever watched what Spider researched as a kid so the fact he could make a bomb isn’t surprising, why do you think he locked himself in a lab?

Spider knows he isn’t going to survive regardless of what happens next. This knowledge is very freeing. Nothing is stopping him from saying everything he wants to, everything he has always wanted to but has never been brave enough to say.

Opening a wideband signal, one that is being broadcast across all of Pandora, Spider turns on a webcam. The sight of himself is so shocking at first that Spider merely stares. When he was caught, for the second time, Ardmore had his hair buzzed off. She also had his stripes scrubbed off and had forced him into human clothes. White tank and grey sweatpants, both now stained in sprays of red from his escape.

He was pale, lack of sun will do that, and thinner than he had ever been before. Dark circles stood out like bruises under his eyes. A start contrast to his chapped and cracked lips.

Unable to look at himself any longer Spider looked down at the material in his lap. “For those of you that don’t know me, my name is Miles “Spider” Socorro Quaritch. I was born and raised here on Pandora. Not loved, not cared for, merely tolerated by everyone. And most of the time not even tolerated. I can’t even tell you how many times I was attacked by the mother of my best friends and siblings.” Spider looked into the camera again. “That’s right Neytiri, I’m talking to you. What gave you the right to hate me? What gave you the right to verbally and physically abuse me time and time again. I never did anything to you or the Na'vi. I was an innocent child. By your own beliefs I should have been treated differently. All children are blessings in the eyes of Eywa, I only wished you followed what you claimed to believe.”

Tears streamed down sallow cheeks, even as Spider laughed. “Not that Jake was much better. He watched me get abused time and time again and did nothing. Never made Neytiri stop, never made the scientists stop, never made the Na'vi stop. Hell, the McKoskers didn’t treat me right either. The number of injuries that were passed off as me being clumsy… how did no one question that? How did no one notice the constant injuries vanished after the McKoskers left? Seriously looking back at my life, it’s surprising I didn’t end it all sooner.”

“But I've realized, you just wanted a reason to treat me badly, all of you, all because you couldn't take your hatred out on my dad.” A smile spread across Spider face as tears continued to fall. “Yes, I called Quaritch my dad. That's what he is. Dad did more for me in 4 months than any of you did in the 16 years I was in your care. I’m only 16… no 17, I’m 17 years old now, I forgot my birthday.” A wild unhinged laugh escaped before Spider abruptly sobered.

“Dad, I just want you to know that I love you. We didn’t get a lot of time together but what we did have was the best few months of my life. Thank you for showing me what having a parent really felt like. Thank you for loving me, for putting me first, for choosing me, for seeing me. Dad, I miss you so much.”

Silence reigned for a few minutes as Spider finished building the detonation device he had been working on this whole time. With a beep it came online. Spider set it down on the table between him and the camera.

“This last bit is for my siblings. Neteyam, Kiri, Lo'ak and Tuk. The 4 of you are the best sibling I could ever ask for. I love you all and miss you. I wish I could see you again but someone has to stop the RDA, someone has to protect you. I can do that. It’s my job as the oldest sibling to protect you, my younger siblings. That’s my duty. I love you. Please, find my dad and take care of him. He'll have no one once I’m gone and he deserves a chance, a real chance. My dad was starting to see and I know he will see one day if given the chance. Please, for me give my dad a chance. Dad take this chance.”

“Well, this is my first and last video log. So, this is Miles “Spider” Socorro Quaritch signing off. Goodbye.”

The screen froze on a picture of Spider looking into the camera, face red and blotchy from crying. Eyes sad and empty with a small, lopsided smile spread across his face. It would be the last picture anyone ever saw of Spider alive. A picture of the boy so many failed and so few loved.

Bonus: coming soon

[marco-newgate]

Marco X CisFem Reader

3

Ace almost always entered your room without permission.

Drawing your name out into a long irritating whine he threw himself on top of you. Your eyes snapped open in annoyance while you flailed under the comforter and your idiot best friend.

"God damnit Ace if it's earlier than 10AM I'm fucking kicking your ass." You grumbled.

"It's 9:32 yoi." Marco's voice called muffled by the door.

"Get uuuuup." Ace whimpered completely ignoring your threat and going limp so it'd be harder to fight his dead weight.

"Why are you awake right now? It's Saturday." You twisted yourself around to your back spreading your arms out.

Quickly you wrapped your arms (with the blanket) around the freckled idiot flipping him onto the mattress sitting on his chest victorious.

"What the hell F/N?!" He wiggled beneath you.

"You were warned. Now you must face - "

"N-no don't! I'm sorry!" He shouted.

"- the tickle monster!" You finished digging your fingers into his ribs and arm pits through the blanket.

"I- ah- h-hate yah-you!" He giggled and kicked eventually finding the strength to push you over.

"We're too old for you to just come in here whenever you want. I need privacy sometimes ya know?" You flopped down next to him taking your blanket back.

"Gross." He muttered, "I just wanted you to come out with us. You've been moping around for almost a month."

"So, let me mope. I just had my whole future turned upside down." You pulled the blankets over your face.

It had been three weeks since you beat Sanji up and you'd had zero contact. He still hadn't returned any of the belongings you had left at his apartment, some of which you really wanted but there was no way you were going back there anytime soon. Facing people was annoying; people who knew what happened gave you pitiful glances and clichéd advice while those who didn't know asked how he was sending your heart into a depressing spiral.

Now you were living out of boxes in the room you'd grown up in. Barely sleeping and having your obnoxious best friend invade your space without permission... just like high school. But you loved it here. It was home. And though you'd never admit to them you loved living with these loud idiots.

There was a light tap on the door.

"Hey F/N...you should probably come out front." Sabo said softly.

Ace had quickly passed out next to you.

So much for waking me up ass.

"Will no one in this house let me sleep?" You groaned.

"Uh.. Well Sanji is here." He added. 

A gut clenching wave of nausea rolled over you as you sat up.

"Ace wake up dumbass." You swatted at his freckled cheeks.

"Wha - when did-"

"Shut up... Sanji is here." You choked on his name.

Ace shot to his feet while you rushed to make yourself look presentable. Dabbing concealer under your dark puffy eyes, you couldn't let him see how sleep deprived you were. Somehow it felt like he'd win if he saw what a mess he made you.

After braiding your hair and changing clothes you made your way to the front of the house. Ace taking confident purposeful strides at your side as you reached the screen door that lead to the porch. Marco and Thatch had already stationed themselves on the deck arms crossed and stone faced. Sabo stood nearby not quite as protective as the others. Ace pushed through the screen his balmy hand engulfing your wrist.

Your stomach fell again catching sight of the blue sedan. Marco glanced down at you offering a crooked smile.

" Seems he's too scared to get out yoi."

"I wonder why." You breathed palming his elbow.

The car's engine cut off drawing your attention back as Sanji stepped out cigarette hanging from his lips. That was a sight you hadn't witnessed since you'd become official. You didn't even have to nag him about it. He gave up smoking almost immediately. It was a rough couple of months and he substituted with constantly gnawing on a toothpick but you gladly accepted the trade.

Before you could will yourself to go down the porch steps Luffy came barreling out the door throwing himself over the rail that framed the deck.

"Saaaannnnjjjjiiiiiii!" He launched himself onto the blond causing the two eldest brothers to facepalm.

Seriously Luffy? He's the enemy.

You couldn't really stay mad at the youngest, though watching him cling to Sanji made you cringe. He is one of his best friends and Luffy is capable of existing passed the limbo of your differences and loving both of you.

"Oi Luffy - you disrespectful little -"

"It's fine." You hushed Thatch.

You took a deep breath before descending the small stair case.

"Finally bringing my things?" You asked breaking up the reunion.

Luffy stepped back grinning, "I'll help you carry your stuff F/N."

"Thanks honey, but I think I got it." You managed to smile at the raven.

"Uh yeah... Hey." Sanji muttered rubbing his neck, "I wasn't really looking forward to facing a firing squad."

"Yeah well you brought that on yourself." You shrugged, "Let's get this over with."

"Sure." He sighed opening the back door and pulling out a medium sized box.

You took it placing it on the hood of the car to rummage through and make sure he got everything. Some scarves, your favorite hoodie, flat iron, DVDs and books. Tucked into the very bottom corner were a pair of red lacy panties. Not only were they not your style they weren't even your size.

"These aren't mine." You stuffed them into the breast pocket of his pinstriped vest earning a chuckle from Ace, "There's a box in my room marked for this guy can someone get it for me?"

Without a word Marco dipped back into the house returning with a moving box labeled "Liar". He approached slowly, expression unreadable as he just dropped the box at Sanji's feet and turned to you.

"We've got to leave soon and you need to eat." He smiled picking up your box and heading back toward his brothers.

You stood awkwardly for a few moments trying to keep calm.

"Well if that's it." You turned away from the chef.

He caught your wrist, Marco and Ace bristled.

"I just really want to apologize. You didn't deserve that." He said softly smashing the cigarette with his boot.

"Well, I'm not much for forgiving right now so you'll just have to feel guilty for a bit longer if at all." You jerked out of his grasp, "You should go...these guys are pretty over it."

He sighed and slid back into the front seat as you climbed the steps trying to keep the tears at bay. Why did you still have to cry over this guy? You just wanted to be over it already. Ace held his arms out only to have them filled with your box of junk. Marco wrapped his arm around your shoulders and lead you back into the house. Ace shot Thatch an inquisitive look only to have the eldest shake his head and follow you inside.

"You really need to eat yoi. You're wasting away." Marco sat you down at the table with a plate of eggs and bacon.

"When did you worry so much over me?" You rubbed the mist from your eyes.

"Just eat."

"Can I promise to do it later?" You whined.

He slouched down in the chair beside you and leaned over just inches away from your face unamused.

"Ugh. Fine." You nibbled at the food suddenly feeling nervous under his lazy gaze, "Where are you guys going today anyway?"

"The beach!" Luffy cheered.

"Not really beach weather. Taking pops fishing?" You guessed.

"No he's over at Linlin's place on the lake this week." Thatch replied, "We just thought it'd be a good day trip, Luffy has been begging to go for a while."

You watched the youngest bounce around with bacon hanging from his lips.

"I think I'm gonna take a raincheck."

Ace let out a deflated sigh, "We want you to have some fun though."

"I know, and thank you, but I'm no fun right now. I don't even wanna hang out with me." You let out a dark chuckle.

"She can stay home if she wants." Marco defended making you shift beside him, "I'll just stay here with her. Koala is going so there's plenty of people to make sure the babies don't drown."

He was referring to Ace and Luffy who had never learned to swim but were drawn to water. It never made sense to you. You'd even offered to teach them – both just sank like rocks.

"You're one to talk." Ace scoffed.

"Yeah hypocrite pineapple." You chuckled, "You just wanted me there to lifeguard."

"Shut up yoi." He nudged you, "Don't fucking call me that."

You offered your best pouty face.

"Well whoever is coming get your shit together." Thatch called, "I'm leaving in 10 minutes with or without you."

After everyone left you sat on the sofa wrapped in your blanket channel surfing before landing on a movie you'd seen a few times. As you let yourself get lost in your thoughts Marco plopped down next to you.

"Are ya gonna stick to me all day?" You yawned.

"There's nothing else to do." He chuckled.

"Then make yourself useful." You nestled into his shoulder closing your eyes.

Marco crossed his arms settling into the sofa. A few moments later you were snoring lightly against him. You really hadn't gotten sleep it took almost no time for you to be completely unresponsive. Shifting a little he pulled you into his chest so that both of you were more comfortable.

"Sweet dreams." He murmured giving your scalp a soft kiss before drifting off himself.

A/N : Happy Birthday Pineapple! <3 

[ssentimentals]

joshua + prom night

leaning on the wall, you scan the room for any of your friends and curse quietly after finding none. why of all nights you decided to be punctual tonight, arriving twenty minutes earlier to the prom? there were not many people inside but those you have seen got you feeling a bit underdressed with their full on ballroom-like looks. you look down at your dress, self-consciously tugging at the material of it, smoothing down non-existent wrinkles.

'people here have an awfully bad taste.'

startled, you turn your head to find joshua standing next to you, looking immaculate in his three piece dark blue suit. his hollywood movie star charms always made you go weak in the knees but seeing him now in that suit makes your heart drop somewhere to the bottom of your stomach, awakening all of the butterflies. he sends you one of those gentle smiles that win girls over in a second, but being too jittery with nerves, you only offer a tight-lipped smile in return. 'yes, they outdid it with all that glitter.'

he chuckles at that. 'i was not talking about the decorations.'

'oh, you meant the food then? i haven’t tried anything yet, is it really that bad?'

this time joshua fully laughs, throwing his head back. you stare at him in confusion because you haven’t said anything remotely funny to get this kind of reaction and also because you are not exactly friends; joshua gets along with everyone but you two never really interacted outside of the class. 'i meant, they have an awfully bad taste because no one is asking you to dance with them.'

'oh, i see.' you nod, feeling very awkward. joshua is staring at you expectantly and you raise your eyebrow, really feeling super out of your element. 'um..yes?'

joshua blinks and his mouth first opens and then closes. he looks at you in such disbelief that your self-consciousness doubles, making you want to hide somewhere. 'i-you-' he sputters and then shakes his head, chuckling. 'that was a compliment.'

'what was?' you ask, horrified that you missed a compliment from him. you gape at him and he stays silent, letting you repeat the conversation one more time so you could realize — 'oh. oh my god. that was the compliment?'

'and my rather poor attempt at flirting as well,' joshua says, laughing in an a bit awkward way. 'guess it wasn’t as good as it sounded in my head.'

'no-no, it was great, it’s me who didn’t get it!' you rush to explain, not wanting him to feel bad. 'i’m a bit slow.'

'slow?' joshua repeats, smiling. 'so you like slow dancing?' 

you blink at him, registering his words. this time it’s you who opens your mouth and then closes it, unsure of what to say. joshua grimaces, tugging at his tie nervously. 'was it very bad?' you nod and he sighs in dejection, making it very hard for you not to laugh. 'sorry.'

weirdly enough this exchange loosened you up a bit and you stand in front of him more relaxed. 'it’s okay, i’m also bad at these kind of things.'

joshua, noticing the change in your body language, also relaxes, taking one step towards you. 'what kind of things?'

'flirting,' you blurt out and then gasp, turning to him. 'not like- i mean, not like what you said was flirting, i just—'

'it was,' joshua interrupts, successfully saving you from embarrassing yourself. 'it was flirting. but with no luck again.' he sounds a tad bit self-depreciative. 'i swear, when i say them in my head, they sound so much better.'

not knowing what to say, you just stare at him helplessly. in the back of your mind you're praying for any of your friends to arrive but you also kind of want to prolong this moment because when again you will have joshua this close to you? you open your mouth and quickly close it when joshua takes one step back and offers you a hand. 'i guess direct approach works best. i think you look breathtaking tonight and i am not sure what's wrong with others and why there's no queue here to dance with you, but it all works in my favor. will you give me the honor of having your first dance?'

trembling, you carefully slide your hand in his. there are thousand of butterflies in your throat, making it hard for words to come out but you still somehow manage: 'i never thought someone phrased it like that still. like having the first dance is..an honor.'

joshua smiles and lovingly cradles your hand in his, taking one step closer. 'it is an honor.' he says with conviction and you can see in his eyes that he means it.

you squeeze his hand back, gulping and pushing all butterflies back where they belong. 'then you have that honor, mr.hong. for all dances.'

the look joshua gives you at this makes you burn up. 'you won't regret it.'

when he leads you to the dance floor with one hand squeezing yours and another one placed securely on your back, exuding confidence and power, you think - no, you know that you won't regret it.

a/n: coming back to you with joshua imagine, hope you like it! check out my other works here - nini

tag list: @pearlygraysky @woozionascooter @jaetaimjadore @yeow6n @smalliechelle (let me know if you want to be added!)

[fluffykiddosstuff]

What is love? (nines X gn Reader)

BABY DON'T HURT ME NO MORE

Hum hum sorry guys, btw happy holidays even if I'm reaaaally late ! It was  sooo nice! There was even snow where I live!

------

You and nines were friends since last month, he came as gavin's partner two months before that, being gavin's best friend, you helped both of them to get along, you took a liking to the android, wondering why he wasn't deviant when every other android did. Connor told you it's because his software is far more advanced than the others androids, for exemple, Amanda wasn't a part of his system unlike connor had, when connor got him out of cyberlife, she instantly got erased by the rk900 software, just like a virus.

It was late in the dpd, everyone was gone, except you, nines, Gavin, hank and connor, you were all teamed on the same case and it was getting frustrating at this point.

"ugh we are not making any progress! At this rate my head will blow up.." Gavin said massaging his temples

"yeah I agree, I'm taking a break, hey, wanna go to the bar to forget this?" hank looked at you and gavin

"heck yes I am old man" Gavin got up and followed the lieutenant when you on the other hand declined politely, still wanting to re-read the reports of your case, connor chased after them, making sure they weren't intoxicated too much. Well that leaved only you and nines in front of the laptop, you readed again everything from the report out loud so nines could hear you.

"a couple was found nearby Detroit playground, an android and a human, both were shot in the chest where the heart is stated, either the killer is a surgeon due to this kind of presision, or it's an android who scanned them"

You massaged your temples just like Gavin did earlier, it was infuriating, no clues, no witnesses, you were to the  point 0 on this case, nines got up without you noticing and got you a cup of your favorite drink. You muttered a "thank you" before drinking it and looking at the screen again.

"detective, if you aren't feeling well you can go home and rest, I can work alone on this, plus, a good rest is essential when you want to achieve something"

You nodded and started to get up and gather your belongings when he stopped you in your track.

"wait I actually have a question before you go detective"

"yes what is it?"

No one spoke for like 5 minutes, he seemed to think before he was gonna ask what he wanted.

"don't you find it weird?"

"what?"

"that the couple was a human and an android?"

You thought a little about it, yeah it was a bit odd because androids didn't got their rights long time ago and still are scared or angry over humans for their loss, same for the other side, but they are exceptions after all.

"well laws are a bit weird recently but nothing state they couldn't be together"

Nines led spinned red and yellow, you looked at him when it hit you.

"you think they got killed because they loved each other?"

"that's a possibility, since the revolution, many people are still hostile on both side"

"yeah.. We should check the road cameras, maybe we could track a vehicle going in this area at the presumed death hour "

"that was what I was thinking, good conclusion detective"

You smiled and rushed a bit to him, he was still on the chair from earlier, you then kissed him on the forehead.

"you are a genius nines! We finally have a lead! I'm gonna send a message to hank and Gavin, I'm gonna go home now, see ya!"

Some blue tinted the android cheeks, he looked at you leaving the pretinct and touched his forehead where you kissed him, a warning going in front of his eyes.

Software instability ⬆️

He texted connor with his system and waited for his response.

"connor what is love?"