#mira is so stupid I love her

[klywrites]

Ashley likes to joke about how Mira has a thousand lovers because Mira "accidentally flirts her way into relationships" and really is that libra meme ~don't flirt with me because I will flirt back and you will fall in love alone~

Mira is oblivious to others' feelings towards her until things get messy. my daughter, you cannot possibly assume everyone you flirt with knows you're just being silly, you dumb

Mira: *flirts*

Someone: *develops feelings for her*

Mira:

[unimaginativebepisenjoyer99]

the satrinyavas

[justauthoring]

yours, always.

requested -> ooh since ur writing fairy tail fics now, how abt a gray x ice dragon slayer reader where she just likes the taste of gray’s ice and always convinces him to make her some by -> anonymous

a/n -> it's been a hot minute since i wrote for fairy tail and gray is just adorable so here yall go

pairing -> gray fullbuster x f!reader

want to support me? send me a coffee!

“blegh.”

from across the bar, drying a cup in her hands, mirajane raises a curious brow. “what’s the matter, y/n?”

meeting her eyes, you pout, draped across the top of her bar rather dramatically. your hands stretch out before you, and you not so subtly shove the cup of ice away from you. “i’m hungry.”

“oh,” she frowns, concerned, eyes momentarily eyeing the cup of ice you'd shoved away. “i can make you something if you’d like? you need only ask, y/n. you know that.”

you turn to her, letting your chin rest on the table instead of your cheek and frown, not having meant to insult her. “I know, mira. thank you,” you say honestly, sending her a small smile. “it’s not food really that i’m hungry for, it’s—“

whatever you’d been about to say promptly gets cut off by the sound of the doors open. you straighten, surprising mirajane as you practically leap to your feet. instantly, your head is snapping towards the door, desperately hopeful, before your eyes practically shine at the sight of a familiar dark-haired (shirtless) mage.

“gray!” you call, bounding towards him without a second thought.

at the sound of his name, gray turns to face you, settling once he realizes just who called for him. his face brightens and a gentle smile curls on his lips as his arms widen to hug you, body obviously easing at you, his girlfriend, given how much he’d missed you while taking solo job.

it wasn't even like he'd been gone for that long — the mission had taken no more than two days. it was just rare that the two of you didn't go together, or at least with the rest of team natsu, but you hadn't been feeling well so you'd opted out.

you'd severely regretted that decision the second gray left.

except, you don’t jump into his arms like gray expects, arms shifting to prepare himself. instead, you stop right before him, hands reaching to clasp his wrist and tug it towards your chest.

“ice.”

and he blinks, stunned and confused, the whole thing happening in a blink of the eye to gray. he's dreadfully confused and a little disappointed because he'd been looking forward to that hug and then, your words register and he smirks teasingly.

“and here i thought you actually missed me.”

eyes shifting from his hand to his eyes, you pause. “oh, yes, gray of course i missed you. im glad you’re safe,” you rush out in a way that doesn’t completely seem heartfelt in the way gray had really wanted. but, he guessed, it was that thought that counted?

“now, ice. im starving.”

huffing, gray moves to oblige, not able to deny your request but still pouting about it.

“seriously,” he whines, feeling rerribly unlike himself (only you would have the ability to make him whine), holding his hand and making some ice for you to take. “it’s like you just use me to eat my ice. did you know that i missed you and you were on my thoughts the entire—“

gray halts when he feels your lips press against his cheek.

lips parting, his eyes follow you as you lean back, the ice he’d made for you held safely in your hands as you beam up at him.

“thank you,” you whisper, warm and genuine.

the sight of you smiling at him like that and the sound of your voice has gray short circuiting, cheeks turning a bright red as you move to happily munch of the ice.

“mm!” you exclaims, giddy and satisfied. “delicious. as always. no other ice can compare.”

and it’s silly and stupid. it’s just ice, but it melts gray’s heart and your words mean so much to him that all he can manage is to smile back at you, eyes flooded with love.

"you're welcome," he muses, watching you with adoring eyes. with the ice happily in your hands as you munch away, gray wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you against his side as he leads you towards a table.

truthfully, he'll give you all the ice in the world if it makes you that happy every time.

and he'd be foolish to deny how happy it makes him that only his ice can satisfy your craving.

[ladykailitha]

The Harrington Pattern Part 1

Hey, guys! Sorry I'm late uploading today, but I went to bed early last night and forgot to schedule this.

Oops!

But! Welcome to what I've been calling Steve is a History Nerd agenda. We see in season two on Steve's essay for colleges that he can link his grandfather's military service with his prowess on the basketball court.

It is also surprisingly well written. *shakes fist at the Duffers stop telling us he's stupid and then showing the opposite, please! Let him be smart, too!*

Summary: The Renaissance Fair is finally back in Hawkins after three year absence (Starcourt was built on the fair site and after the fire it was bulldozed back to it's original field). Everyone is excited, even Steve to everyone's amazement. But Steve is hiding other hidden depths as he offers to help the kids make their costumes for the Fair.

Lucas is struggling with being both a nerd and a jock and fears the judgment of his friends. Steve sets out to help him overcome those doubts to be himself.

Tagging the untaggable: @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

***

Nobody expects Steve to be excited for the Renaissance fair. Dustin, Will and Lucas spend hours plotting bribes, schemes and out and out manipulations to get Steve to agree to take them. Even Robin expected him to side with her about the dust and the filth. Eddie expected him to be dismissive of the fantasy aspect of it.

Boy were they all wrong.

For it was Steve to bring up to the group after a rather successful D&D session.

In his hand was a bright pink flier and a wide grin on his face.

“Guys! The Ren Fair is back this year,” he said in lieu of a greeting. “I’ll finally be able to show off that tunic I’ve been working on.”

All heads turned to Steve in shock.

There was a cacophony of questions.

“Since when did you know how to sew?”

“What do you mean back? I didn’t even know Hawkins had one to begin with!”

“You want to go to the Ren Fair?”

“Why would you want to spend all day in the heat and dirt?”

Steve looked around at all off his friends in shock.

“Guys, I love the Ren Fair,” he muttered. “Didn’t you guys know?”

All their jaws dropped.

And Eddie? Eddie felt an icicle to the heart at the sight of Steve’s hurt expression.

“You’ll pardon the peasants, my liege,” Eddie said, bowing grandly. “I’m afraid we have all be harboring under the delusion that Ren Fairs were beneath your notice.”

Steve blinked at him a moment. “But I love that stuff. It’s the history and sword fights and jousting. It’s the like medieval Olympics. It’s the romance and chivalry of knights fighting for a fair maiden’s hand. It’s getting to dress up in fancy clothes and rip into turkey legs like a savage. What’s not to like?”

Dustin frowned. “Who here knew Steve liked history?”

Robin and Nancy raised their hands. They looked around waiting for me people to join them. But they stayed down.

Steve ducked his head and scuffed the floor with the edge of his sneaker.

“The ex-girlfriend I’ll buy,” Dustin continued. “But Robin didn’t become friends with Steve until after he graduated so how did she know?”

Robin blinked at them owlishly. “You mean you guys don’t know?”

Everyone looked around each other and then shook their heads.

“Steve was in my AP history class my junior year,” she said as if this was know fact.

“You do know that AP stands for advance placement, right?” Mike asked.

Eddie smacked the back of his head. “She was in it, dude. Don’t be an ass.”

Steve looked up at him and smiled a little.

Good, Eddie thought. Nothing like a little Mike violence to cheer up Steve.

“He wrote an essay for early placement college exams,” Nancy said. “He didn’t get a chance to turn it in because of our second go round with the Upside Down, but it was really good. It needed a little neatening up with the actual writing, but the history was solid.”

Steve blushed. “Thanks.”

Dustin looked skeptical. “What’s your favorite part of history?”

Steve opened his mouth and then closed it again. “I liked hearing about my grandpa’s time in the US army during WWII, but that was more because he made it interesting. But I really like the Industrial Revolution. Or rather the first Industrial Revolution. There have been four. The first one was from 1760-1840 and featured heavily in the textile movement.”

The room was silent.

“Why textiles, Stevie?” Eddie asked as the silence grew awkward.

Steve lit up like a child at Christmas morning and he began talking about the British textile movement.

“What the hell?” Dustin huffed, breaking into Steve monologue.

Steve ducked his head again and blushed. “Just because I’m not interested in science and fantasy doesn’t mean I’m stupid.” He straightened up. “And yeah, sometimes I get things wrong. But everyone does at some point. In fact I get a hell of a lot more flack for my intelligence than Eddie does and he repeated his senior year twice!” He took a deep breath and then ran his fingers through his hair.

“No offense,” he said waving to Eddie.

Eddie looked up at him with earnest eyes. “None taken. I concur.”

They all looked around at each other in shock. Like they hadn’t realized that they had done that.

After a few moments, Steve put his hands on his hips and pointed at all of them.

“So do you guys want to go or what?”

Eddie sat back with a smile as everyone roared their approval.

*

“No corsets,” was Robin’s only firm and fast rule for Steve when it came to dressing her up for the Ren Fair.

Steve looked her up and down. “Why on earth would I want you in a corset? Have you looked in the mirror?”

“Uh...” Robin said. “Is that a trick question? Of course I have. I don’t what that has to do with saying no to corsets though...”

Steve rolled his eyes. “In order to give you the curve you need to match the proper silhouette you would need to be cinched to hell. And as this is supposed to be fun.”

He grabbed her hand and started hauling her toward his car.

“Where are we going?”

“Thrifting!” he said with glee.

It took three different stores and a stop at the mall to get everything he needed.

“Give me three days,” he told her when he dropped her off at her house. “And I think you’ll like what I come up with.”

Robin eyed him warily. “If you say so.”

Steve laughed.

He crashed the next D&D session, showing up early to pick them up.

“What is everyone wearing to the Ren Fair?” he asked with a note pad on his lap and wagged the pen in his fingers.

“You want us to dress up?” Mike asked, eyes wide.

“Why not?” he asked with a shrug. “I’ve made my costume and currently reworking some thirfted threads for Robin’s outfit.”

Eddie blinked. “You made your costume?”

Steve shrugged again. “Yeah. I like sewing.”

There was suddenly an uproar and he held up a hand. “I can’t make you a full outfit before the Fair, but I can make over already made clothes to make them more historical. And maybe for next year I’ll have the time to make something special for everyone.”

Dustin eyed him suspiciously. “Like what?”

“Like tailoring pants to a tighter fit,” Steve explained “adding a sash or belt, turning old coats into vests and cloaks, things like that.”

They still weren’t sure how that would work out.

“Now I talked to Joyce and Claudia,” he continued. “And they’re both willing to help out in making sure everyone has something nice to wear. That includes Max and El.”

“Are the fair maidens joining us?” Eddie asked.

Steve nodded. “Yeah. Joyce is doing El and Will, Claudia is doing Dustin and Mike, and I’m doing Lucas and Max. Eddie said he already had a costume, so I didn’t have to worry about him.”

Eddie grinned. “You better believe it, pretty boy.”

Steve ducked his head and blushed. “So we’re all going thrifting with a $5 limit for each of you. But I wanted to brainstorm some ideas of what you wanted to go as so we don’t waste time wandering around.”

Everyone started shouting at once and it took Steve a good ten minutes before he got everyone calmed down enough to get what they wanted. Dustin wanted to go as a hobbit, but Steve had to nix that one.

“You don’t want to go running around the grounds barefoot,” he explained with a wince. “It’s not safe.”

“I’m going to have to agree with Stevie on this one,” Eddie said. “You guys have never been but there is all sorts of stuff laying around. It’s not indoors and the pathways are dirt lined. Think the state fair. It’s more like that then going to comic book convention.”

Dustin grumbled but conceded the point. Steve got them to decide on... well not quite peasant gear, but more rough around the edges than what Steve would be wearing.

Well, all but Lucas. He didn’t want to wear what they were wearing but he refused to say what he did want to wear.

So Steve dropped him off at home last.

They pulled into his driveway and Steve turned to him. “Do you not want to dress up? Because I won’t make you.”

Lucas picked at the loose string on his sweater. “It’s not that. I just remember the last time we did a group costume and they all thought I should be Winston because I was black like he was.”

Steve frowned for a moment. “The Ghostbusters, right?”

Lucas nodded. “I knew if I brought it up they’d shoot me down again.”

“So what did you want to go as?” he asked.

Lucas huffed out a sigh. “It doesn’t matter. It’s a stupid pipe dream anyway. Especially since you have to make Max’s dress and Robin’s costume, too.”

He opened the door to get out, but Steve reached over and slammed it closed.

“One, Robin’s costume is almost done,” he said counting out on his fingers. “Two, do you really think your girlfriend is going to want to wear a dress? And three, let me be the judge on what’s too much for me, okay?”

Lucas huffed a laugh at his second point. “Yeah, that was dumb of me.”

“So what is it?”

Lucas looked down again and heaved out a sigh. “An elf.”

Steve’s mind was whirling with the possibilities. “What colors?”

“What?” Lucas asked, not sure he heard Steve right.

“What colors would you want it to be?”

He pulled out the notebook and scrambled for a pen. Lucas pulled a pencil out of his bag and handed it to him.

“Uh I was thinking of a light blue and with a silver trim?” he said hesitantly.

Steve sketched something out. “Like this?”

Lucas leaned over to look at the drawing. “A little shorter so I’m not tripping over it and maybe those puffy pants?”

Steve adjusted the drawing and Lucas nodded.

“Yeah, like that.”

“All right,” Steve said. “I know exactly what to do and how to do it. It won’t be perfect because I don’t have time to do it right so I’ll be doing a lot of cheating. But yeah, it’s doable.”

Lucas gave him a hug. “Thanks, man.”

*

Steve called the one person he knew he could help him.

“Eddie,” he said the second the other man picked up. “I need your nerd connections to do a huge favor for Lucas.”

“Wha’cha got, big boy?” Eddie asked with a grin.

“You wouldn’t happen to know any Trekkies would you?” Steve asked chewing on his bottom lip.

“That depends, Stevie,” Eddie replied, “what’s the need?”

“Pointed ears.”

Eddie hummed. “I’m assuming you’re thinking Trekkie because of Spock and that’s a good thought. But I’m guessing since we’re going to the Ren Fair our stalwart ranger is wanting to be an elf?”

“Yeah,” Steve said. “Do you know anyone who can help?”

“Better than that,” Eddie said. “I know where to get the ears in the right... shade?”

Steve perked up. “Oh? I’m guessing Jeff?”

“Right in one, darlin’,” Eddie said with a soft smile. “I’ll give him a call and then call you back.”

“Thanks, Eds,” Steve breathed. “You’re the best.”

“Thanks, doll.”

****

I am so excited for this, guys. You have no idea. I'm little history nerd myself and this really fun to play around with.

Just a heads up. We WILL be addressing Mike's casual racism from the Ghostbusters scene because I don't like that it's never been addressed.

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 @artiststarme ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666 @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual

[captainuranium543]

Ft headcanons nobody wanted part 2

-natsu will occasionally get genuinely jealous over his friends owning appliances for heating. Why should they need those things when they have him, if they just call him over her do a way better job then any of those stupid gadgets. He finds out gray owns a hair dryer and immediately becomes a jealous ex girlfriend. He confronts Lucy in her apartment one night acting so serious he she doesn't even get mad that he broke in, then just goes "care to explain this?" And puts a lighter on the table.

- Wendy is very very quiet. Creepily so. Not elaborating but I think you can imagine the kinds of situations this leads to.

- Mira's eyes glow in the dark and it creeps everyone the fuck out

- erza has the worst hoarding problem. Her dorm room is entirely piled floor to ceiling with boxes of meticulously organized random items she refuses to throw out for some reason

young Mira: "alright this is ridiculous why do you even have this"

Young erza: "say what you want but when you need 746 packets of Mcnolias sweet and sour sauce and find your supply baron I'll be laughing"

- levy is one of the few members of the guild who actively sought it out to join. Before fairy tail she was an orphan and a student studying magic. She left to join fairy tail to learn more about magic in general from real world experience.

- laki will sometimes build creepily realistic wooden statues of her guild mates and leave them around in inconspicuous places so when you find them they scare the shit out of you. Sometimes she hides them too well and it takes years to discover them.

- Lucy has actually written several unpublished novels and the only other person who's ever seen them is levy. Lucy thinks their crap but levy carefully annotates every single one.

- laxus used to occasionally be forced to go on jobs with erza and Mira when they were young both to help and to make sure they didn't kill each other and he hated it.

- I think I might have said this before but I firmly believe levy, Lucy, freed and jellal later on all form a book club because they love reading, the problem is they all have vastly different tastes in book so they can never decide what to read each week and usually just end up playing Scrabble and talking shit about their various teammates

"please guys trust me this one's good"

"I am NOT reading Colleen Hoover Lucy and that's final"

- this one's based on city hero but I personally believe erza and Erik find a shocking common ground over motorcycles. Erza likes vehicles in general and Erik took up bike racing as a hobby, since discovering this is the longest they've been able to be in the same room together without someone throwing a punch.

- Wendy visits lamia scale regularly still to hang out with chelia. she usually brings romeo and they all go out to do whatever dumb kid stuff they want. (Tbh I just like her having friends her own age)

-lucy sometimes randomly lets her rich girl's heritage show in random conversation and it's always jarring. You'll be having a normal chill convo with her and then she'll look you dead in the eyes and ask you what colour your personal carriage was growing up.

- Natsu is genuinely a really good cook he just has a terrible taste so nobody wants to eat his food. For reference he only ever cooks his food because he enjoys doing it to him it tastes fine either way.

- if you had asked the fairy tail guild who the scariest guild member was in early season 1 the answers would have been erza, guildarts, laxus etc all the usual suspects. Once season 2 starts however the answer is unanimous. It's juvia. Juvia is fucking terrifying when she gets mad. You don't realize how scary water can be until it's filling your lungs and as your vision blurs until all you can see is her merciless stare.

- Mira and freed can drink blood for demon reasons. gray can too after getting devil slayer but he thinks its gross. Surprisingly so can gajeel because of the high iron content.

- gray the type of guy who's bed has only the smallest thinnest blanket on his bed and usually it's on the ground cuz he gets too hot

- meanwhile erza is the type of girl to have so many pillows, blankets and plushies on her bed you wonder how she fucking sleeps in it. Mf has a NEST.

- Lucy isn't even surprised anymore when she finds people in her house, she doesn't know how they keep getting in and honestly she doesn't care anymore she's to tired to deal with it.

- freed plays a lot of really fucking weird instruments. Idk it just seems like something he would do.

- bixlow can speak most languages and it's always really surprising when he randomly says smth like "oh yea I can speak ancient nirvid no prob" like that's totally normal

- if laxus and freed ever did get together (in my heart it's cannon) evergreen and bixlow would be their biggest haters. Yea they love them and they're happy for them but also EW. GROSS. GET A ROOM.

[slowlysoluminary]

[ ISAT SWAP AU, FAMILY END SCENE ]

ACTORS: king, {euphrasie,} [claude,] <nille,> |mira,| drawing kid

.

{"Wh-whats. . ."}

Fear drips through each of her words.

{"Oh no. Oh no, no, no. . ."}

Her hasty breathing climbs.

You turn your head.

You wish you didn't .

{"Pele, this smell-?"}

Her panicked eyes lock with yours.

You can't shift your expression fast enough.

She knows... She knows. She always knows. Of course she'd know now.

You don't understand. You did everything right. Couldn't the Universe send you a boon? Lend you silence as the world breaks around you, again? And again? And again? Over and over and over and ...

And what's different? You found a home, a place you belonged? A place you were loved? Did you think that would help you? Were you really that stupid??

Hahahahahaha!!!!

["Euphie!"]

They rush to her aid. You're frozen in place. Too useless to comfort her. (She wouldn't want you there anyway.)

<"Pel?">

Nille noticed, too.

<"What's goin' on? Is sum'n the matter?">

She's torn, between reaching out for you and sticking by Euphrasie. Why? You can't help but wonder.

The Kid lets out an anxious bleat. Nille ushers them closer.

|"I-I'm sorry! Monsieur, please...!!"|

{"That Mirabelle..."}

{"Ooh, it got her too..! It's too late!! I should've noticed sooner!"}

<"Euphs, we're gettin' worried! What are you talking about?">

Are you just going to stand there?

She's suffering. It's your fault. Do something. Do something!!!!

["Pele! What's-"]

["Urgg!!"]

The world breaks.

|"I don't know what's happening!! Forgive me, I'm sorry!"|

{"No, no, no, no, no, no, no, n-"}

["The air around us, it's -! Augh!"]

Burnt sugar thickens the air around you. Breathing is a chore.

<"Crab, my head hurts...">

Is someone wheezing?

<"PELE!!">

... Oh, it's you!

They're all running, reaching. Worried. Confused.

<"COME BACK!!!">

You haven't moved, and you make no motions to do so. You have no such intention.

Will you ever get to see Nille reunite with her younger sibling? Watch her reunite with the one person she talks about most frequently, most favorably? Help her guilt come to pass? At the end you'll always find a sliver of that woman (shame she'll never stay that way).

["H-hey! Pele! Something's wrong! Talk to us!"]

Will you ever get to see Claude find peace with herself and her situation? Will you ever get to see her in her daily life, untroubled by the weight of an entire country? Will you ever get to see her find happiness with the one she loves? Will you yourself ever find peace with Claude's situation? (You don't think about the tug on your heart at the thought.)

The Kid cries, trailing behind Nille, unsure what to do.

You hurt. Will you ever get to see this kid's family? Will you ever find their name, their identity, their home, some safe place for them to stay? Will you ever be a safe place for them to stay? (Your heart burns with the mere idea that you've been an insufficient provider).

{"P-Pele... what did you do?"}

You hurt. Will you ever get to see her smile at you again, with the same genuine glee she does at the rest of the world? Will you ever mend your broken bond with that woman? Will you ever get to speak a word with her without fighting the urge to claw your eyes out, or flee, or what have you? (You love her.)

Will you ever get to see a happy ending?

<"HOLD OUT YOUR HAND!">

You oblige, with little heart. It won't work. The idea is futile (it comforts you anyway).

What do they see in you? What do they think of you?

|"I'm sorry, I failed you!! Euphie..!!"|

You take a step forward.

And

your world falls apart.

(They are your world.)

【 ✦ 】

ADDITIONAL

Only in this moment can you finally rest.

[carmenized-onions]

Doing Too Much. | House Call

logline; Appliances can reach their breaking point, when you push them too far. Same goes for people.

[!!!] series history, this is the sixth; First, Second, Third, Fourth, Fifth

[New Thing!!] Spotify Playlist, if you like to listen while you read. I listen to it when I write :) Constantly gettin' added to.

portion; 4.8k

possible allergies; eatin' meat, besides that, we're pretty good actually. did somebody say calm before the storm....?

pairing; Carmen ‘Carmy’ Berzatto & Fem Reader (no pronouns, but girl is said a couple times, i believe.)

After this chapter, I'm entering my era of couch hopping as I move to a new city n start a new job. I'm really excited for the chapter after this one, so hopefully I actually get time to write it-- But that's just my lil warning if you're left rereading for like two weeks </3 But I'll def be stalking my activity/inbox so please do yap to me

Monday morning. The next morning after everything. Well, closer to noon than morning, at this point. You’re supposed to have, what, a work ethic this week? After the most insane weekend of your life? No. You’re lazing around and doing fuck all. No matter who calls. Well… Not completely no matter, but like, most people.

When you check your phone, you’ve gotten a text at 6:43 A.M. Unknown number. Ah. Carmen. You put him in as Carmy, and put his nickname as ‘Mister New York’. Listen, old nicknames Mikey ingrained in your brain die hard.

It’s a simple text, deeply un-romantic.

‘Connections Puzzle #342’

Then, four lines of four perfect categories. Flawless. Purple first, even. The hardest category. And then,

‘Morning’

Stupid. Incredibly stupid, to be enamoured, by this. You reply,

‘Good morning!’

‘Connections Puzzle #342’

And then a failed jumble of coloured squares, you get one out of four categories. What the fuck is 'dogleg' and since when has it meant taking a sharp turn? You follow that up with,

‘Fuck you.’

Aside from Carmen, you’ve actually gotten texts from a couple people. Your boss at Eden’s asking if you’re alright. What the fuck did Cicero say? Oh well. You tell him you’ve ‘been better, been worse. Will be okay by next week.’ Perfectly vague, and you still get wired your cheque and tip out. Alright, maybe Uncle J does deserve your free labour.

Speaking of, the next text on your itinerary is from Uncle J, just info for the winter nuptials of Vinnie and Mira. Oh yeah. Three-hundred guests, you remember that part. You also remember him saying it’d be an ‘easy gig’… He did not mention you’d be the only bartender. This is going to be a nightmare. Oh well. You text back that despite it being an open bar you get to put out a tip jar. He just reacts to it, ‘haha’. That sounds like a yes to you.

And then, adorably, a selfie from Syd, wearing the collar and pins you’ve gifted her, under a green sweater. Cutie. You hype her up accordingly.

Besides some texting though, Monday is relatively unbusy. No calls. No emergencies. No businesses knocking down your door for your services. You’re thankful for a break, letting the inertia set in, finally being able to relax after fix after fix after—

Tuesday comes, you get sent another perfect round of New York Time’s Connections around half past six in the morning, along with a good morning text. And again, you fuck it up. You send him your Wordle results this time, as an act of rebellion. You then ask,

‘How’s reworking the menu going?’

‘Hard to say’

‘Ask me tomorrow’

God he’s an awful texter. Horrifically dry. You know you’re down bad beyond a belief when you find that endearing. You spend Tuesday drowning and pruning your plants after depriving them for so long.

Plus working on your art piece for Carmy. You’re pulling out old film photos, a canvas, and a load of bleach—It’s like high school art class all over again— Surprise surprise, the handyman who loves to up-cycle is a mixed media artist. Who could’ve guessed?

While trimming a photo, an exterior of The Beef, a picture frame on your wall falls down behind you, you tut, turning your head to it, chastising the air. “Mikey! It’s a copy, relax! I’ve still got the original print…”

There’s every chance you’re insane— No, you’re definitely insane. But you’re allowed to be, your best friend died, you’re allowed to talk to the air as if he’s still around. Sometimes the timing of doors swinging open for you and things falling down are just too uncanny to not be a ghost.

Wednesday arrives, and again, just after 6:40, Connections results. And the Wordle, this time; plus a ‘Good Morning’. It looks like this is simply just your thing, now. Every morning, the second both of you get up, you send each other puzzles and wish a good morning. You don’t mind that. It’s nice to have a ‘thing’, with someone. With Carmen.

Part way through the day, around two o’clock, you get another text. Two, actually. From Carmen, in quick succession.

‘Are you busy?’

‘Don’t worry if you’re busy. Can call Fak’

You’re quick to reply, frankly deeply offended.

‘Are you fucking firing me????’

‘I’m gonna get ready. Text me details’

While getting dressed, you watch three dots bubble, bubble, bubble… He’s taking forever, just don’t look at it, you’ll get anxious for no reason. No jumpsuit today, you’ve got to switch it up every now and again. Navy cargo pants with the perfect number of pockets and zippers, and an orange Chicago’s Kindest shirt, tucked in. Hm. Looking in the mirror, hickey is still there. Lighter, but there. Foundation? No. You’ll sweat it off and that’ll just bring up more questions. If Syd asks you’ll just tell her you fell down the stairs… On your neck. She's not the type to confront anything remotely sexual anyways.

Speaking of Syd, before Carmen can text you back, she calls you, which is fair— Don’t leave a Carmen to communicate. You stick your phone in the crux of your neck and answer while you pack your utility belt. This feels nearly nostalgic. “What’s fucked?”

Carmen is in the background; you can hear the tail end of a sentence, grumbling. “—Don’t call—”

“My life.” She responds without missing a beat. “And also, Carmy’s stove and oven.”

“Oh.” You squint. “What the fuck happened?”

“Overuse? I actually don’t fucking know, it just stopped working. We plugged it in and out— He even reset his apartment’s breakers. I dunno what’s wrong with it. It’s probably got something to do with him putting his fuckin’ jeans in there.”

“…He what?”

You can hear him in the background, again, clearer this time, grimacing, “What are you doing to me?”

Syd does not mind him at all, continuing, “I know! He’s fucking weird!”

“He’s extremely weird.” You like him a lot. “I’ll be over soon, were you guys like, mid-cooking?”

“Yessir.”

“Christ, alright… I think I have a dual burner hot plate laying around somewhere, you want me to bring it—”

They both speak clearly this time, together, “Please.”

You’ve got a pile of things to give to them anyways, and maybe you miss Carmy’s face. Just a little.

Instead of just buzzing you in, Carmy comes down for you. When he sees you through the door window, carrying a cardboard box, he almost breaks into a full run. He’s somehow opening the door, grabbing the box from your hands, and chastising you all at the same time. “You should’ve left it in the car, I would’ve—”

You step in through the entryway and kiss his cheek, cutting him short. You can’t help yourself, it’s the first time you’ve seen him since and you feel like a giddy teen. The teenage girl in your head is no longer just in your head, she’s fully manning the station. “You’re very sweet. But it’s also not heavy.”

When he continues to be frozen, the regret starts to mount, “Is—Sorry, is that okay to do—?”

“It’s very okay to do.” He manages to reply, with haste. Nodding to himself. “It’s good.” He nods again, then marches off, expecting you to follow to the elevator. You do.

“What floor?”

“Eighth.” He sniffs; you press the button. He stands next to you, looking you up and down. He astutely observes. “Orange.”

“Yeah.” You smirk, looking back at him, “Turns out, businesses can have two colours in their designs.”

What’s a little roasting of fellow small businesses between two not just friends?

“Oh yeah?” Coy, smirking. Oh no. You’ve gotta get the teen off the controls. He tilts his vision to stare at your jacket. Ah. You opted to wear your Carhartt instead of his jean jacket.

“Didn’t wanna give Syd more questions.” She already guessed you’re a sugar baby, you don’t want to wrap Carmen in on that too. Especially since ideally in a month or two he’ll be your boss. Hm. The Bear is going to need an HR.

He hums, nodding. “We’re not telling Syd?”

“What’s there to tell?” You grin, crossing your arms. “You suddenly have free time, Bear?”

He takes a beat, thinking, then just takes a deep frustrated yet amused exhale. “I’m gonna fuckin’…” He can’t think of a threat. “…Get you.”

You snort, “You’re gonna get me?”

“Fuck you—!” “You’re gonna fuckin’ get me, Bear?”

“I—” He tries to hold a straight face, it doesn’t work. “Yeah, I am.”

“Can’t wait.” You nod, grinning, turning back to the doors. “You told me to ask how menu’s going tomorrow.”

“I did.”

“It’s tomorrow.” The door dings, opening on the eighth floor; you step out together. He switches his grip to hold the box in one arm. Alright Biceps, we don’t need to brag here...

“It’s… We’re getting there.” He grimaces. “Syd’s recipes are always… Almost perfect.”

“Ah.” You nod, you know your friend well enough to know where this is going. “And she fucks up one thing hard?”

“Mhm.”

“And when you tell her it’s okay and give her a hand she just feels worse?”

He nods. A touch surprised you’re right on the dot so quickly. “Everything ends up perfect, but I think she’s finding the edits…”

“Demoralizing.” You walk down the hall together, he nods. “I know what she needs, I’ll find an in.”

“You always do.” He hums, you walk just a touch ahead of him, unknowingly walking past his door. He pulls you back by the back of your jacket, making you stumble back into him. This seems to be this villain’s intention; as when you turn around, he’s quick to grab your chin and kiss you.

“It’s very good.” He emphasizes, again, before opening his door and acting like everything’s totally normal and fine. Since when did he turn the tables and make you the desperate one? Son of a bitch.

Ah. Actually, subtract any attraction you had in this moment— He lives like this? Books on the floor, by the window. Jeans on the dinner table, because they were in the oven. The kitchen actually looks alright— You’re almost certain that’s purely for utilitarian purposes while they’re working on the menu. This motherfucker better have a bed frame or him asking you to sleep over would be downright offensive. God, he’s wonderful. God, you’re an idiot.

You find Syd at the table, moping, head in hands. Carmen sets the box down, sitting beside her. You pat the top of her head. She silently moves one of her hands to go over yours. You nod. The silent exchange of girls who know.

“Yeah?”

She nods, grumbling. “Yeah.”

Carmen has no fucking idea what’s happening and he’s never been more intrigued by a near wordless social interaction in his entire life. What? You’re not even making eye-contact. What the fuck is happening?

You fish through the box with your free hand, grabbing a pot. You place it in front of Syd. “Look.”

She peeks through her fingers. A tiny but flourishing nursery pot of basil sits before her. You speak. “You’re gonna hyper-fixate on this basil I’m gifting you, and then you’re gonna crack back into it with the dual burner until I’m done fixing the oven.”

She nods, putting her hands in her lap, “Yes, Chef.”

You pull out a second nursery pot, setting it down for Carmen. “For you.”

“What for?”

“Basil grows like a motherfucker and it’s getting unhinged. I need to start pawning off to people that’ll make good use of it. A-K-A, chefs.” You look at Syd, pointedly, “Talented chefs.”

You hand off the heating pad— Wrapped in brown paper with a card tied to it, to Carmen. “For Nat.” You add, when he looks confused, “Can’t imagine I’ll see her sooner than you will.”

He looks even more confused, when you hand him a spray bottle full of reddish water. It’s one of the good spray bottles, too. Continuous. Carmen wouldn’t know the difference, but you do. “Rosemary. —Water, that is.”

He squints; you clarify, gesturing to your own hair. “You mentioned, losing hair, so— Thought I’d make some, with the trimmings of rosemary I had. Got ginger and cloves in it, too.”

Why have you trapped him in hell? You’ve remembered such a specific off hand from days ago and acted on it? And he can’t express the grandiose level of affection he feels right now? Are you serious? You’re the devil. You’re absolutely the devil. He just coughs out a ‘thanks’.  

“And, the pièce de résistance,” You pull out the old ass, boxed up double burner countertop stove. “A stovetop that ideally fuckin’ works. It was my single claim to fame in my college dormitory.”

Carmen’s already opening the box. Sydney smirks, curiosity peaked. “Was that legal?”

“You a fuckin’ RA?” You grin, poking her forehead. “It was not. And that’s exactly why everyone loved me— Didn’t serve them fuckin’ hot pockets.”

The configurations of Carmen’s apartment would be great for literally any occasion besides the current one. The kitchen is narrow, and so, when you pull out the stove to check the back, there’s an estimated no fucking room left for Carm and Syd, so they sit at the dinner table with your stove top. You’d think they’d look like they’re doing a cute hot pot. No. They look like two conflicted and confused twelve-year-olds working on a science project.

So do you, honestly. Wiring is definitely more your speed than plumbing, but if you’re being honest, this is the first oven you’ve worked on without your dad, and you’re having a hard time remembering everything. There’s a lot of embarrassed Googling on your phone, when you're sure they’re not looking. They can’t know you’re even slightly incompetent!

You’re pretty sure it’s just a couple damaged wires, fried from overwork— Easy fix, if you had wire. You don’t. Slightly harder fix. But soldering is your bitch really, you’re in your bag. You look stupid, wearing chunky goggles and a respirator, but you’re in your bag, baby! What’s that one saying? Skills make you hot? That’s not a saying.

But it is true. When Carmen’s able to peer into the kitchen, quickly looking over his shoulder when Syd takes a moment to write a measurement or direction down, you look stunning.  Respirator and all. You just look correct there, in the kitchen. His kitchen. So stunning he feels guilty. Do you find it annoying? Constantly fixing errors behind him? Probably. You say it’s not a lot of work, but that can’t be true.

“How’s The Bear, ‘sides menu rework?” You ask, raising your voice in the kitchen.

“S’good.” Carmen. “I’m in hell.” Syd. Not hard to tell which statue is lying, here.

Syd stutters on, “Nat’s takin’ care of baby Michaela— Which is very good and—and cool, actually.”

“But?”

“But we’re back to handling the business side entirely ourselves, for like— The next month. Maybe two? Fuck, are we doing the wedding without her?” Sydney almost burns her sauce, Carmen’s quick to move it off the burner.

He mutters, “Don’t even start to think about it. It’s gonna be fine. We’re gonna figure it out.”

“Oh yeah, wedding— Have you gotten your menu yet?” You call from the kitchen, muffled by your respirator.

“Oh my god!” Sydney exclaims, and Carmen is wincing. She can’t tell you things are going wrong; doesn’t she know that? You’ll fix it, if things are wrong. You always fix it. Fix him. You’re gonna put him in your phone as Carmy Bad News. If you haven’t already. Start a support group with Tif.

Syd continues, “They’re so fucking particular and somehow also vague—Like, ‘we want salmon and chicken’ for main course— What kind of preparation? ‘Surprise us!’ Okay, how about roasted chicken—? ‘Mmmm, no, not that’. I’ve been told ‘non quello’ at least ten times in the last four days.”

No, you’re witty. Bad News Bear. Fuck, that’s definitely his name in your phone, isn’t it?

“Fuckin’ nightmare. Y’know, I’m the only fucking bartender? For like three hundred guests? Thank God they’re not asking for a custom cocktail or anything, I’d lose my shit.”

Sydney laughs, and she steps back into her flow easily, reducing the sauce without burning it, now. She looks more serene than she has in days. What? How are you doing that? What are you doing? Are you casting a spell?

“Can you even fucking imagine what their couples’ cocktail would be?”

You groan from the kitchen, laughing in return, “Not you too, Syd! Must you make me work!?”

“C’mon maestro, make a cocktail!”

“Bleh. Uh… They give long island iced tea energy, but it’s a wedding so— Like a boozier negroni?”

“That sounds fucking disgusting.”

“I didn’t say it’d be good, I said it’d be their couples’ cocktail.” You’re both giggling, like school girls. It’s like you said— You become teens, together.

Despite the fact that Syd is making an incredibly complex dish, and you’re fixing an oven—His oven— Ridiculing the other impossible tasks set out for the both of you… Despite all of that, you’re laughing.

Carmen is, what, nearly thirty? A restaurant owner, with a full crew, who attends Al-Anon, and is only now truly registering the power of an unsolvable burden being shared. Not fixed, shared. Talking. Laughing. God, this all comes so easy to you, doesn’t it?

You finish soldering, test each burner, and the oven— All working, thank God. You quietly cheer in the kitchen, removing your respirator and goggles. “We’re good here! Fixed!”

“C’mere!” Syd calls out to you, and so you do. Eagerly. She hands you a fork. Unprompted, she does the thing. You’d missed the OG, really.

“Beef Oxtail, pressed in a Foie Gras casing, seared. Basted in a King Oyster mushroom sauce. Pureed greens on the side.”

“I never know what the fuck you’re saying.”

She pushes the side of your face with the palm of her hand. “Put it in your mouth and chew.”

You want to make some sort of kink joke, but you respect the already struggling man in the room and take a bite. Hm. Hm. You put a finger over your mouth, swallowing. “...Now it might just be my unrefined palate.”

“That’s why we have you try it.” Carmen pipes in. Syd nods, following. “It’s important to know the baseline.”

“…It’s got like,” You hand the fork to Syd so she can try it, while you think. “A bit of a bitter aftertaste? Which might be the… goal?”

Syd spits it out the second it touches her mouth, she shouts your name, your actual name— A rarity. She’s so terrified that she forgets the Walk-In bit she’s been in on all week. “I just fuckin’ poisoned you— Oh my god?! Are you good? That was— Fuck! You swallowed that?!”

She grabs your face like a concerned mother, also maybe to check if you have superpowers, you’re not sure. All you know is there’s a golden opportunity to make another sex joke and you have to hold back. Life is so unfair.

Carmen takes a quick taste, also spitting it out. “I’ve got it, Chef, don’t sweat.” Immediately looking to the drafted recipe card to see where they went wrong.

Syd almost squeezes your cheeks like a stress ball but thinks better of it, letting go, groaning, beyond frustrated at this point. “You shouldn’t have to fix it— I should fuckin’ have it, at this point.”

Carmen's trying to ignore how much he relates to the sentiment. He's not the focus, right now.

“We make mistakes, Chef—” “Syd.” You snap your fingers, pointing to her, interrupting Carmen. “Can you help me grab something, from my car? It’s kinda big.”

Carmen’s quick to chime in, already going to untie his apron, “I can—”

“No!” You look at him pointedly, trying to communicate through look alone. He kind of gets it? “It’s… Girl stuff.”

Syd squints. “You need me to help you carry a big girl thing?”

“…Are you fuckin’ helping or are you gonna poke holes?”

“What are you actually dragging me out for?”

“Technically I do actually need your help grabbing something, it’s just not a girl thing. And it's also not from my car.”

“Oh?”

You walk out of Carmen’s building with his keys, and gesture out to every apartment buildings treasure trove— The spot everyone throws their furniture when they move out and don’t know what else to do with it.

“Bookshelf!” There is actually one pristine looking bookshelf, a cheap one, definitely just something from IKEA. But it’s better than the fucking floor. “I spotted it on my way in, we’re gonna bring it up for Carm.”

She groans, hating the concept of manual labour, but still walks with you and grabs one end anyways. “Why didn’t you make Carmen carry his own bookshelf?”

“Because you need a fuckin’ pep-talk.” You pick the other end of the bookshelf up. It’s thankfully not that heavy. You walk backwards so you can keep facing Syd.

“…I don’t—” “Yes the fuck you do.”

She kisses her teeth, you frown. “What’s up, Adamu?”

“It’s just fucking annoying— I keep, I keep fucking it up. I keep—Keep—”

“Doing too much.”

She gives you a look, ‘are you serious?’, type look. You continue. “You’re doing too much. You’re not cooking like you.”

“I can cook like Michelin—”

“I never said you couldn’t. Watch your step.” You interrupt, walking over a bump in the sidewalk. “You can do star level shit, Syd. But that’s a grade, not a type.”

She kind of reels, at that. You continue, “You cook great complex dishes, you always have, I’ve tried them. But now, you’re all caught up trying to prove some shit, to Carmen, to—to— Who gives stars? The tires guy?”

She laughs, almost dropping the bookshelf. “Yeah, I’m trying to impress the tires guy.”

“Fuck you.” You snort, stepping up the stairs. “What I’m trying to say is, you should make what you want to eat, not what you think you should eat.”

She nods, you stop on top of the stairs, both taking a second to breathe. “…Thanks.”

You nod back, hands on your knees for a second before standing back up, opening the lobby door. “I’ll always be your cheerleader, Syd.”

“More like coach.”

“Can you let me have one hot girl career, please?”

When you get back up to Carmen’s, he’s already grimacing. You and Syd are split apart by the bookshelf standing between you in the hall. “Fuck is this?”

“It was free and I’ll clean it!” You press your hands together pleading. “C’mon, you can even put your jeans in it!”

“Jeans on a bookshelf?”

You turn to Syd. “Better than the oven.”

“I think he’s doing that to dry them.”

“I think it’s ‘cause he doesn’t own a dresser.”

“It’s both.” Carmen clicks his tongue, single-handedly picking up the bookshelf and carrying inside. Alright, does he need to show off this much? Whatever. It’s definitely not making you feel any type of way at all.

You squint, watching him walk further in his apartment, and then to Syd. You speak at the same time. “He stays doing too much.”

As promised, you wipe down the bookshelf, making sure it’s free of grime and roadside pests. Syd and Carmy work together in the kitchen, with a now functioning oven. You load the shelf up with the books on the floor— Thankfully they’re piled into categories already, so you don’t have to bother him about that.

You’re tempted to clean his living room, but that would probably be rude, right? Don’t want him to take it as you saying he’s a slob. But they are taking a while… Alright, you’ll just throw out trash. You won’t fold blankets or pick up dishes or anything. Just trash! No big! He can’t be mad at you for that.

You pile together the garbage, then sneakily throw it out in the kitchen trash can as fast as you can, before he looks. He’ll think he’s just sleep cleaning, or something. “How’s it goin’ in here?’

Carmen pipes up, eyes focused on the dish as Syd plates it. “Good.” Syd holds the plate in one hand, and silently corrals you with the other to sit at the table. You do. She sets it down the plate before you, handing you a fork and knife.

You look up at her expectantly. She shakes her head. “Eat first, this time.”

She looks serious, so you nod, cutting into the dish. It’s different from the last one. Instead of oxtail, it’s pastry. Or at least, a puff pastry exterior. You’re pretty sure it’s Pillsbury, you remember Carmen buying that, the other day, on your excursion.

Inside it, you believe is the beef oxtail, there’s other things, too. Some sort of sauce, some greens— Oh well, no time to bask in the cross section because Syd looks like she’s about to explode. You take a bite. You nod, chewing.

Syd starts, “Searing the duck caused the bitter taste— So instead of- Of searing the outside, I coated it in the mushroom sauce, the greens— Not pureed, this time, for texture. Your basil, too. There’s a crumble of feta, for a subtle tang. And then wrapped it all together in puff pastry, and baked. It’s sort of like, a varied take on a beef welling—”

“You made a fucking gourmet hot pocket?” You swallow, wheezing. The second you say this, Sydney’s focused face beams, laughing, like she’s just pulled off the most perfect prank of all time.

Carmen was so intrigued and focused on Sydney’s explanation, that you watering it down to hot pocket and being right makes his entire system reboot. He cannot stop smiling, aghast. He's been helping Syd make a hot pocket for the past hour?

“I told you to make what you want and—” wheeze “—you make a fucking hot pocket?!” You double down, laughing with her, she’s trying to defend herself but she can’t stop wheezing in tandem.

“I— I can’t fuckin’ stand you!” You snort, covering your face with your arm. “I hate your ass, oh my God, Syd.”

“Did—” snort “What did you think?” She recovers, slowly but surely.

You shake your head, handing her the fork. “It’s sick, Syd, obviously, it’s fucking perfect… Chef.” You tack on at the end, almost forgetting. “I’m not gonna be able to have an actual hot pocket, ever again. You’ve ruined my life.”

She takes a bite for herself, nodding. She does a small cheer, pumping her fist. “Let’s fucking go.” She points her fork at you— Purely on muscle memory, and you both instantly remember the days of her testing out recipes and you pairing them on first taste. She’d point her fork to you like a microphone. It was a fun game between two nerds.

It’s a reflex response for you, even now. “Barolo. Savory, dry, red. A young one, though. Light body. Could also do an Amarone, if you’re not buried in money.”

She hands the fork off to Carmy to try it, then writes the pairings down, mumbling, amusement still in her voice. “How the fuck do you do that?”

“I honestly don’t know. I think I have some wires crossed.”

“Fire, Chef.” Carmen swallows his bite. “We cannot call it a hot pocket on the menu.”

“Then what’s the point!?”

Leaving Carmen’s place is objectively the most awkward experience— But also the funniest. You offer to wait for Syd and drive her home— You’ll need a second to pack anyways while they make their business plans.

When you do offer, of course, Carmen stutters short, almost asking you again to sleep over or at the very least stay late, but saves it, realizing himself.

Syd accepts the ride offer. You pack up and wait for her to be done. When she is, Carmen offers to carry your things down with you both, in which Syd accuses him of thinking you’re both weaklings— He does not have a defense case for this, he has to let you go. You can tell he wants to kiss you at the door, and you do too. Sadly, you’re equally down bad, but he can’t know that…

You say your goodbyes, Syd helps you load your tools and hotplate in the trunk of your car. Your phone vibrates. Text from Mister New York.

‘Look up I’m on the balcony. 8 floors.’

You look up, sure as shit, he’s out there, cigarette in mouth. Unlit. He waves, you wave back. He texts again, in rapid succession.

‘Thank you’

‘For helping Syd’

‘And the oven and the hot plate and the bookshelf (not necessary)’

‘nbd + I think it’s v necessary’ Does Carmen understand acronyms? You’re risking it, here.

‘and cleaning my trash’ Sonofabitch.

‘ah fuck. I don’t think you’re messy!!! I just wanted to help!!!’

‘I know. You’re you. Be safe.’

Oh goddammit, stupid dry texter, saying something so gah. You jump as Syd taps the roof of your car behind you, getting your attention. Watching from a far distance, Carmen laughs, though you don’t notice it.

“Are we going?”

“Yes! Sorry!” You hurriedly pocket your phone, waving one last time as you get in your car. Syd sits beside you in shotgun, her pot of basil sat safely in her lap. You drive off.

You’re half way down the road, when Syd pipes up again. “So y’all are fucking, correct?”

You almost brake check the guy behind you.

 “How do you fuckin’ do that!?”

the opening is dedicated to my dear friend and i who have sent our wordle results to each other everyday for the past like year and a half.

Things of note, one - people usually skip the shit up top-- I made a spotify playlist! Listen if you like, I'm not your dad.

Two, I know this is a self insert right, i know what I set myself up for-- Do you know the hell i am in as a syd x carmy girl writing scenes with both of them and it NOT being them? What have I done, to myself? The only coping mechanism I have is imagining in this universe Syd is a lesbian. And that is helping.

The hot pocket recipe-- Who fucking knows, if that would taste good? I think it would? In theory? I fucked with a dish from Daniel NYC, to make it into a bit. Would it work? ....Beef wellingtons do, I can't see why this can't???? Idk man.

Rosemary water w cloves and ginger does fucking work btw. I am part of the so stressed out i lost my hair brigade. Also basil does grow like a motherfucker.

We're seein' a little bit of that tenseness that comes with being in an 'almost relationship' both of them feel like they've got something they can fuck up now. Poor birds. They'll be okay. Probably.

I'm really excited for the next chapter, I don't wanna give shit away, but it's gonna be,,,,,, different. I haven't seen anyone try this kinda formatting on tumblr before, and I'm excited to see what you think. Between my moving and how complex the choreography of it is gonna be, it's gonna be a much longer minute between this chapter and the next, I fear. But listen, you already knew your ass was gettin' spoiled with a chapter every two days. Hehe.

As always, please come yap to me in the replies/inbox/dms/reblogs. I love to hear thoughts!! It sustains me, baby!!

Next Part

[queers-gambit]

Distraction

[ series masterlist ]

prompt: at a rare family dinner, you have news for your husband.

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader

fandom: House of the Dragon

word count: 5.9k+

note: i didn't want to like him but the pirate baby war criminal does something to me.

warnings: cursing, spoilers, Aemond being a little shit, basically the dinner scene with Aemond's wife. canon-level incest (?) and dialogue. not edited!! ❗️major season one, episode eight spoilers

"How's this?" You asked Amira, your handmaiden, showing her the sixth dress you've tried on. You observed all angles of yourself in the mirror, smoothing over the material of your dress in worry.

"I like it better," she nodded, admiring your figure. "And you can't even tell you're hiding - "

"Mira," you warned, sighing sharply.

"When are you going to tell him, my Lady?" She demanded, helping you into your shoes as you fixed jewelry around your neck, wrist, ears, and fingers. "It's killing me!" She whined lowly.

"Soon, Mira," you rolled your eyes.

"You've been saying that for a month, and now you're starting to show!" She snipped, hands on her hips. "He's not stupid - "

"He's been distracted as of late," your eyes rolled. "He is not paying attention to me right now, I've time to think."

"I beg to differ, but sure, let's be ignorant."

"Mira," you sighed, or more like whined. Your head tilted back and you sighed sadly, pinning her with an exasperated look.

"I'm being honest, Princess, and I'm telling you the Prince absolutely adores you. How he's not noticed yet is beyond me."

You sheepishly admitted, "I might've... Lied a wee bit."

"And said what?"

"I was bloated from bad fish and my cycle," you shrugged. "He doesn't know much different, and he's been coming to bed in exhaustion that he doesn't much stay awake to notice my growing figure."

"Well," she sighed, hands slapping her thighs as she shrugged with defeat, "this dress hides everything better, it fits nice. It's a winner for tonight's dinner... Just - "

"Don't eat too much," You ended for her, smirking. "I know... I know."

"You should just tell him, Princess. Rid us of this game, please."

"I will..."

"He has the right to know," she whispered.

"He will - just once I figure out what to do."

"What do you - "

"Once I figure out how to be okay with this," you sighed sadly. "Look... I just... Aemond doesn't seemed thrilled by the idea of being a father but his mother insisted on lineage. He only did his duty," you shrugged, fiddling with your fingers as emotion caught in your throat, "and I'm nervous to tell him, because... T-Then it's over."

"What's over?" Amira asked softly.

"The marriage," you sniffled, "the bliss, the partnership. I just become a cast-aside-milk-machine."

"You know the Prince would never - "

"Truthfully, Mira, we don't know," you cut her off sadly, "because nobody can predict what Aemond will say or do next."

"He wants to be a father," Mira nodded, but both of you froze when a new voice asked from the doorway,

"Who wants to be a father?"

Recognizing your husband's voice, Mira was swift to answer when you froze in fear, "My husband's brother. He's trying for a baby with his wife and I was telling the Princess how excited he is because he really wants to be a father."

"Hmm," Aemond considered a moment, stepping into the room in-full and letting the door close softly behind him. "Well, speaking of my dear wife, are you almost ready, love? We've dinner arrangements."

His eye raked over your form and when he settled on your face, he smirked with mischief. Gulping from the flush of heat his gaze brought, you glanced at Mira before affirming, "I'm ready, my Prince Ameond."

His brow furrowed as Mira showed herself out, Ameond asking, "Since when do you address me so formally, my love?"

"Oh, well, just - you know, we're going to have dinner with your whole family, Ameond, I just wanted to remember formalities and, you know, my place..."

"Your place," he reaffirmed as he reached for you, "is at my side, sweet girl. You worry for nought, my family adores you."

You sighed lightly, "As if you gave them a choice but only to accept me."

His smirked broadened, "You're right - I gave them none. Come, you're worrying yourself silly. It's nothing, my sweet girl, Father called for this dinner to celebrate us being together."

"Might you promise me something, then?"

Aemond sighed, "You know I cannot break promises to you."

"Exactly," you smirked lightly, feeling his arms tighten around your waist to keep you pressed to his front. You worried he'd feel the small curve of your belly, but distracted him by asking, "Do not antagonize anyone while your King Father is present, my love, please. He's old, he's sick, let us grant his wish of having a meal together - in harmony, in peace..."

He sighed again, letting his eye shoot over your face as you pouted lightly. "All right, my love," he agreed, "I will behave myself while Father is present."

"Thank you," you whispered, thinking that was the end of it. Your Lord husband smiled and took your hand to tangle his fingers with yours, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips.

"Shall we, my love?" He muttered softly.

"Hmm," you hummed, kissing him again. "All right, yeah, let us go. Shouldn't keep the family waiting."

He smirked, "Come."

Aemond liked keeping you close, moving from your shared rooms and down the halls to reach the private dining room the Royal Family was to take their meal in tonight. Upon entering, you discovered the fires ablaze and torches set to provide ample lighting, making you smile as the room was the perfect temperature for your pregnant, flushed-flesh.

As custom dictates, you bowed to the Queen Mother first; greeting the Hand of the King after, then with similar bows, greeted the crowned heir to the Iron Throne, your birth mother, Princess Rhaenyra. You gaze shifted to your mother's husband, the Prince Daemon, your step-father, and offered him a polite greeting. Truth of it was that you were always cautious of Daemon, and the way he looked at you was hard to decipher; never knowing if he even liked you or not. You skin was toned down from your father's, the late Lord Laenor Velaryon, but your hair was as bright as your mother and father's, and all who shared your blood.

Your marriage to Aemond was a bid for peace after your younger brother, Jace, took the young Aemond's eye about 6-7 years prior. To placate tension, your hand was offered only 2 years ago, and it turned out to be a surprising love-match. You and Aemond grew closer after the years apart, and though you tried to understand all sides of the situation, you knew the truth behind the loss of his eye, and only tried to offer comfort for your husband on day's he became overwhelmingly insecure.

You loved your family, but you loved the man you shared your life with now and did your best to keep the peace.

You greeted your brothers and cousins before looking back at your mother, who grinned in excitement.

Your mother breathed your name and stood from her seat, making you match her excitement as you let go of Aemond's hand to hug her tightly. "Mother," you gasped into the tight embrace. "Oh, how you glow! Pregnancy has always agreed with you. How are you feeling?"

"I'm well, my sweet love," Rhaenyra nodded, pulling away to gently pet a stray hair from your forehead. "Your hair's grown so much in these years."

"Do you like it?"

"You look beautiful, my love, I adore it," she promised, squeezing your hand. "How are you fairing?" She glanced over your shoulder to your husband - who was greeting his own siblings.

"I am doing well, Mother, you do not need worry," you assured. "Aemond is good and kind to me, I promise. I have known only love and warmth from him, and I feel I should both apologize to you for protesting the arrangement, and then thank you for it..." She smiled fondly, caressing your jaw and chin. "It has worked out better than I ever could imagine."

"I am delighted to hear it," your mother spoke with so much love and kindness that a light sheen of tears coated your eyes. "You look well, love," she sighed lightly, petting over your long hair. "You know I miss you daily, my sweet girl. It is not the same without you."

"I miss you, too," you swore. "More than words..."

She sighed, "Well, go on, we should find our seats..."

"We'll talk again soon," you assured softly, giving her hands another squeeze before breaking apart. You nodded to her husband, "Prince Daemon."

"Princess," he nodded back, watching you move around the table to snag Aemond's hand in yours, and together, the two of you made it to your seats at the head of the table. Aemond pulled your chair out and let you sit before taking his seat between you and his grandsire, leaving you between him and his sister, the Princess Helaena.

"Good evening," Otto muttered to you, nodding with a soft smile. "You look beautiful, Princess."

"Thank you, my Lord," you smiled. "You look well yourself. And you, Princess," you directed at Helaena, "that dress befits you."

"Thank you, my Lady," she smiled, "you're glowing... In this light," she spoke with a knowing twinkle in her eye.

"Love?" Aemond muttered, a servant holding a goblet. "Would you like wine tonight?"

"Oh, please," You accepted, Aemond taking the goblet to pass along to you. "Thank you, sweetheart."

"Hm," he acknowledged with a small smirk, raising his own to his lips as he observed the whole of the table and slowly turned in his chair to crowd into you. "Say the word, love, and we'll leave..."

"We're fine," You assured in a soft whisper, bowing your head to speak in his ear. "You are on edge, my Prince."

You could almost physically feel his nerves.

"With reason," he sighed, leaning in to press a kiss to your neck. "Aegon wants a word, my love. I'll be a moment."

"Go on," you sighed, smiling with a nod as he stood from his seat; leaving you with a parting kiss on the top of your head. The table was still being dressed for dinner and the Targaryen-Hightower families all sat around as they all waited for the King to arrive. Aemond and Aegon stood for their conversation at the corner of the table, leaving Helaena to rise to her knees in her chair; giggling with you over whatever riddles plagued her mind in that moment. Otto smiled as he watched you two for a moment.

From your place, you could feel the tension from Queen Alicent and Princess Rhaenyra, knowing all of their feud from your limited years at court prior to tonight. When the doors opened and a procession of Kings Guard was seen, you all pushed from your wooden chairs to stand for the King's arrival; your husband reaching for your waist to stand together as a united front. Aemond always took your union very seriously as your birth appearance only left room for rumors to fester about your brother's lineage, and Aemond took immense pride in calling you wife.

You, who had the color of your father's skin, and the hair color of your mother; you, who was a highly desired prize to the courts; you, who was desired over others, and looked at only as a trophy - but being that you wed a man who had known you your whole life, he treated you as much more. You were proud of your marriage, and stood tall at his side.

The King was carried in a chair that would double as his seat for the evening meal, requiring a set of guards to carry him up to the table before being lowered.

When everyone was allowed to reclaim their seat, Aemond held a hand to the servant boy who meant to push your chair in; smirking at you as he took the liberty himself. Say what you wanted about the lad, but his mother raised him right...

Much could not be said for his brother, but Aegon was not your worry.

Aemond took his seat after, letting his hand drift to your thigh in invitation; smirking again when both your hands tangled with his. You noticed both of your brothers now sat with their betrothed, who were Daemon's daughters with your Aunt Laena - who passed seemingly only days before your father. Both tragedies left your mother, Rhaenyra, and uncle (?) Daemon available to marry, and you remember standing on your ancestral home of Dragonstone, watching the Old Valyrian customs come to life as they wed.

A beautiful ceremony in truth.

Around the table, all members of the Targaryen-Velaryon-Hightower family claimed their seats as King Viserys Targaryen, First of His Name, was set down at the large gap separating your mother and step-mother...

How odd to think about the relations around this table.

As the guards retreated, Viserys croaked, "How good it is... To see you all tonight... Together."

You smiled at Aemond and let your head fall into the crook of his neck when he glanced at you; his arm readjusting to better hold your hand, both attentively listening to the King's words, but not before his chin caressed the top of your head when he returned your brief show of affection.

The tension at the table was nearly palpable, leaving Alicent to ask her husband, "Prayer before we begin?"

"Yes," Viserys agreed.

Everyone took proper prayer form, you glancing at your seemingly confused mother for a moment before to your lap as Alicent lead the prayer: "May the Mother smile down on this gathering with love. May the Smith men the bonds that have been broken for far too long. And to Vaemond Velaryon, may the Gods give him rest."

You ignored the under-breath huffy responses to Queen Alicent wishing for rest upon a man slain in court today, nodding when the prayer was over and lifting your head to reclaim your husband's hand in your own. Viserys continued, "This is an occasion for celebration, it seems. My grandsons, Jace and Luke, will marry their cousins, Baela and Rhaena, further strengthening the bond between our Houses." You nudged Aemond gently when you saw him staring at Jace with unnerve. "A toast to the young Princes and their betrothed!"

"Hear, hear," Daemon mocked as he took up his goblet, your husband spying your smirk of amusement.

And though he lowered his voice so his father did not hear, Aegon's words reached your own ears as he muttered to your brother, "Well done, Jace. You'll finally get to lie with a woman."

Jace let his goblet set to the table forcefully, catching your eyes as you subtly shook your head at him. He ignored Prince Aegon's antagonizing words.

"Let us toast, as well, Prince Lucerys... The future Lord of the Tides."

"Hear, hear," his future sister-cousin toasted with a soft smirk.

"You'll be great," his cousin-fiancé assured.

"Love," you reprimanded softly, catching his stare again. He only sighed at you as Aegon was turning to Jace again.

"You do know how the act is done, I assume? As least, in principle? Where to put your cock and all that?"

"Let it be, cousin."

"You can play the jester if you wish, but hold your tongue before my betrothed," Jace defended, keeping his voice low so the adults would not hear him.

"Hmm," Aegon sighed, nodding once before sitting forward in his seat. You sighed to yourself, feeling Aemond's hand stroking over the meat of your inner thigh and leaning into his arm slightly.

But all came to a stand-still when Viserys grunted and stood uneasily to his feet, leaning forward on the table to hold himself up. His words were spoken between huffs of breath, "It both gladdens my heart and fills me with sorrow to see these faces around the table." He looked around with meaning, "The faces most dear to me in all the world... Yet grown so distant from each other... In the years past."

Aemond blinked once, then twice, and lowered his gaze to the table before looking down at you. You offered a silent smile and pet over his hand. But both of your smiles dropped when you looked up again, watching Viserys reach for the latch that kept the golden facemask in place; realizing his intention. You were used to Aemond's injury and scar, but the King's was something else entirely, and with your pregnancy stomach - you were unsure how you would react seeing it.

Aemond's hand squeezed yours when the King dropped his mask and gave a front-row-viewing to his decaying face. Aegon and Helaena refused to look, their eyes set to the table as Viserys looked around; Rhaenyra seeing the extent of his illness, and how his children could not look at him for longer than a few seconds.

Viserys continued, "My own face... Is no longer a handsome one," he snorted lightly at his own joke, "if indeed it ever was. But tonight... I wish you to see me... As I am." Otto watched the King directly, boldly, and your eyes could only handle small glances, focusing on the way Aemond was distracting you with his fingers running up and down your thigh in your lap. "Not just a King," Viserys continued through haggard breathing, "But your Father!" He turned his eye to Daemon, spitting, "Your brother!" His head turned to Alicent, "Your husband." And then he looked to the middle of the table, "Your grandsire. Who may not, it seems... Walk for much longer among you." He slammed the gold mask to punctuate his point, all eyes staring at him now. "Let us no longer hold ill feelings in our hearts. The crown cannot stand strong if the House of the Dragon remains divided. But set aside your grievances." You felt emotion swell in your chest as Aemond's hand paused to squeeze your hand. "If not for the sake of the crown... Then for the sake of this old man! Who loves you all so dearly!"

He panted in exhaustion as he fell back into his seat with Alicent's aid; fixing the mask back over the decaying half of his face. Suddenly, your mother, Rhaenyra, was shooting up from her seat with her goblet in hand; making you sit up straighter almost subconsciously. Aemond fought off his knowing smirk as he watched your mother hold her goblet with intention.

After a moment, the crowned Princess spoke, "I wish to raise my cup to Her Grace, the Queen." When Alicent had helped secure the gold mask, she looked up in curiosity. "I love my father," she continued to Alicent. "But I must admit that no one has stood... More loyally by his side than his good wife." After a meaningful look, your mother spoke to the rest of the table, "She has tended to him with... Unfailing devotion, love, and honor. And for that, she has my gratitude... And my apology."

When your mother's eyes caught your own as she sat down, you nodded with your own toast, "To the Queen Mother."

The others echoed your words and took their obligatory sip of wine, watching Alicent accept your mother's words. "Your graciousness move me deeply, Princess." Daemon sat forward at the Queen's words, your mother watching her as your own husband seemingly stilled to watch the tense exchange. "We are both mothers... And we love our children. We have more in common than we sometimes allow." Your mother accepted her words, in turn; and the Queen Alicent Hightower stood to her feet, and hoisted her cup high, "I raise my cup to you and to your House." After a moment, she ended, "You will make a fine Queen."

You smirked gently as your mother fought off her emotion, raising your cup again to call, "To Princess Rhaenyra, our future Queen!"

The rest of the table followed suit, and with King Viserys, took their gulps of wine. Aemond smirked and pecked your temple, earning your attention for you to grin at him - feeling as if this was a perfect moment to announce to your husband and family that you were pregnant. But his attention drifted when his brother drained his goblet, cleared his throat, and stood from his seat.

He sighed and kept close watch as you silently turned your attention as well. Aemond knew better than anyone how protective you were of your brothers, and though you shared different traits in appearance, they were still your blood, and you, and your gorgeous green dragon, Kasta, would defend them until your death day.

You could not make out the words Aegon was muttering to your cousin, but you knew the lad liked to instigate; his farce of pouring himself a new goblet of wine only getting him so far.

Whatever was said upset the Prince enough for his hands to bang on the table as he stood; Aegon's smirk assuring you he meant for this reaction. "Jace," you heard Rhaena try to intercede.

But as Aegon made for his seat, your husband stood to his feet, and stared Jace down as if in challenge to say anything. The table all stilled, and even Viserys, who had witnessed your husband ferocity, waited with held breath. "My love," you whispered, reaching for Aemond's sleeve to give a simple tug. "You promised," you reminded softly, begging him to sit down again. But when his fist formed, you stood from your seat to press into his side, whispering urgently, "Aemond, please, do not do this, I am begging you."

His arm slithered around you to keep you at his side as Jace only pounded his fist into Aegon's shoulder in a show of good faith; noting the way Aemond went rigid even under your soothing touch.

Jace toasted with his own goblet, "To Prince Aegon and Prince Aemond. We have not seen each other in years," Jace glanced from Luke to you and Aemond, "but I have fond memories of our shared youth. And it is obvious the love, devotion, and respect you show my sister - and for that, I give both gratitude and thanks." He paused to look at Aegon, who looked sour at the show of responsibility and educated-tongue. "And as men, I hope we may yet be friends and allies. To you and your families good health, dear uncles. Or, should I say, dear uncle, and brother," he smiled at you after, seeing you return it with all-teeth.

But when Aemond's hand tightened on your waist in anger, you whispered again with urgency, "Please, let it go."

Behind you, Jace had gripped Aegon's shoulder, giving a tight squeeze, before another friendly fist pound - making the Prince reply tightly, "To you as well."

"A moment," you called, making Aemond pause in his descent to his chair, and prayed you could cause reason to smile again, "because I'd like to toast my good and loving husband." He offered you a solemn smile, but cocked his head in confusion. "And... I'd like to take this moment, before our families, to share the good news..."

"Love," Aemond whispered in shock, Alicent perking up as Otto did. "You speak what I think you do?"

You nodded, glancing at the table, but telling Aemond, "I'm pregnant. We're going to have a baby, the Seven's heard us at last, my Prince."

There was a round of cheers and applause as Aemond breathed in relief and pulled you in, letting both his hands caress your cheeks as he kissed you tenderly. "Truly?" He muttered, making tears brim your waterline.

"Yes," you confirmed, feeling one of his hands drop to press against you gently swelling womb. "Just a bit over three months in."

He laughed and pulled you in for a proper hug, the table sending their congratulations to you both - and you foolishly thought you were successful in distracting Aemond enough. You took your seats again, him fully turned to keep his arms around you, as the family all muttered in good tidings.

But above them, you could hear Helaena mutter, "Beware the beast beneath the boards."

You didn't get to question it because you were leaning over to give Otto's hand a squeeze - thanking him for his good tidings. Your mother caught your eye after, giving you a bright and happy grin; silently toasting to you, making you return the motion and take a sip.

Thinking you had ended the toasts for the evening, imagine the surprise when Helaena, a usually quiet girl, stood from her seat as if it burned her. Aemond and you both paused to look up, listening as she spoke, "I would like to toast Baela and Rhaena. They'll be married soon. 'Tisn't so bad," she assured sincerely. "Mostly, he just ignores you..." Then, a thought came to her, "Except sometimes when he's drunk."

You honestly didn't mean to, but you laughed a little - eyes widening as you look at Aemond with your hand over your mouth. But he chuckled, too; and dare you say it, but you swore Otto let out a singular chuckle to his granddaughter's words. In fact, you knew he did, when Helaena found her seat again and he nodded at her, muttering, "Good."

"Let us have some music," Viserys spoke, and a moment later, the live musicians struck a tune. Curiosity burned in your gut when Jace stood from his seat, muttered to his fiancé, and then stepped around the table to approach Helaena with an offered hand.

"Jace," You warned your brother when he halted beside you; watching as Aegon could not tear his sights away from his wife as she accepted, and let the Prince lead her to a small clearing for a dance.

Aegon turned and shared a hardened look with his brother. Aemond let his chair push back some to give him a proper view of his surroundings, taking your hand, and encouraging you closer. You sighed with mild worry, muttering, "Won't you eat something, my love? Please?"

He hummed, tearing his gaze back to you. "No, sweet girl, you go on. Eating for two now, aren't you?"

You sighed lightly, "W-Was this alright?"

"What?"

"Telling you here?" You wondered, genuine fear flooding your chest.

Aemond sighed and leaned forward to crowd into you again, despite the head of the table posing with natural privacy. "My love... This is," he sighed lightly and took your hands in his, meeting your gaze, "The best news you could've given me - in any way. But in front of our families? That is special, indeed," he smirked some, leaning in to press a linger kiss to your forehead. "Worry not, sweet wife, for this is joyous news. I am just..."

"Uneasy?" You filled in with a frown. "I know this family likes to push buttons but please do not say or do anything - not with the King here, my love."

"I know," he assured softly, "I made you a promise, I will not break it."

You nodded in response, letting his lips meet yours for a slow kiss, his nose nuzzling against yours before he leaned back in his chair - nodding at your plate to silently encourage you to take another bite.

Some minutes passed and after laughing with Otto over something silly, you caught your husband's gaze again. You offered him a small look before leaning in, making him sit up and bow his head to hear your words, "You're staring again."

He chuckled, "Perhaps I am enjoying the view."

"Oh, of me eating, is it?"

"Of my beautiful wife, yes," he smirked, leaning back again, and leaving you to get sucked back into whatever was being spoken of now. You did not notice how the King gazed fondly at you all, taking note of his gathered family, until he was wincing and moaning in pain.

Slowing your chewing, you watched silently as Alicent called for the guards, and Viserys was then being pulled away, and carried away from the table. You stood with respect as he was dismissed, Aemond's hands smoothing over your waist to guide you back into your seat - a moment before he did the same.

Aemond sat at an angle, not eating, and leaving place at the table before him for the servants to raise and set a roasted pig before him. You eyed it wearily, knowing of the torment your brothers and Aegon put Aemond through for being dragonless in his youth, and tried not to think further of it. You reached to lay your hand on Aemond's knee in comfort, just placing your next bite to your mouth as Luke's snickering amusement enraged Aemond.

"Don't," you gasped after you swallowed when you noted the way his entire body turned to regard your younger brother; sighing in defeat when Aemond's fist rapidly pounded into the table's top as he climbed to his feet and swiftly picked up his goblet.

"Final tribute," Aemond proposed, ignoring the way you sighed and remained still in your seat. When the hall quieted and turned their attention to him, Aemond continued, "To the health of my nephews: Jace," he looked to the boy still-standing, "Luke," his sights turned to your brother that slashed his eye from its socket, "and Joffrey. Each of them handsome," your eyes met Alicent's, as if anticipating his words, "wise..." He paused, the tension brewing to a new height.

"Love, please," you whispered, watching him nod silently, and then finish,

"Strong."

"Aemond," his mother tried, but was ignored.

"Come!" Aemond barked as you slowly stood to your feet out of worry; his arm extending to wrap around you and settle you on his other side - as if to protect you. "With my sweet wife, let us drain our cups to these three..." Aegon rose his goblet with enthusiasm, ever the one to hide behind his brother's brute, words, and strength, "Strong boys."

"I dare you to say that again," Jace barked.

"Why?" Aemond instigated as his head snapped to look at your brother, you sharing a look of unease with Alicent. "'Twas only a compliment." He let go of you as Jace started forward, turning instantly to meet him. "Do you not think yourself Strong?"

Luke stood in anger as Aegon met him, Jace launching his fist into Aemond's jaw - making you wince slightly upon the impact, and making you call your brother's name in protest. You felt Otto raise to his feet and pull you back from the fray, as Aegon smashed Luke's head to the table. "THAT IS ENOUGH!" Alicent raged.

Seemingly unfazed by the fist to his face, Aemond smirked at Jace before pushing the younger boy back off his feet. He sprung up with a growl - making two guards lunge forward to restrain him - as your husband turned with a broad grin and his goblet, still in hand.

Jace and Luke were both restrained as you freed yourself from Otto's grasp to reach for your husband, who sat his goblet down in order to hold onto you. "What was that? Huh? You lost your mind finally?" You demanded in disappointment, hearing your brothers still growling and grunting with effort to free themselves.

Alicent descended upon you two, demanding in a lowered tone, "Why would you say such a thing before these people!?"

"I was merely expressing how proud I am of my family, Mother," Aemond rounded on her, one arm still tight around your waist. "Mm," he considered, raising his voice as he let go of you to turn, "though it seems my nephews aren't quite as proud of theirs."

Jace broke free and charged forward as Daemon barked, "Wait, wait!" With a silent finger held, he stalked between the two Princes; easing Jace backwards without uttering a word. When the boy was back by his brother and both of their betrothed, your mother was demanding of them, "Go to your quarters. All of you go, now."

Daemon turned and settled his sights on Aemond, making the hair on your neck stand on end with worry as you held your husband's hand tightly - as if it would keep him at bay. Your step-father came to a halt and sighed, still staring at Aemond, and you knew that just because your husband was unhinged, didn't mean you were, and Daemon genuinely made you nervous. He was undefeated and rumor of his win in the Stepstones was told to you directly by your father, who bore witness to the Rogue Prince taking the entire beach by himself.

Daemon was not someone you were eager to cross, but your husband loved a good challenge - and by the look in both man's eye, you knew they had met their matches.

Aemond sized Daemon up for a moment before your hand tightened in his, begging quietly, "Can we go, please?"

He hummed in response and tightened his hand in yours, leading you past your mother and step-father, but pausing when Rhaenyra spoke your name. Your mother reached for you, smiling, "Congratulations, my sweet girl. You'll make a beautiful mother."

"Thank you," you whispered to her, leaning in to kiss her cheek, and whisper, "I'm so sorry."

She winked at you in return, letting Aemond take your hand again and lead you onward into the torch-lined hallway. You sighed when you pushed from the room, leading in the other direction of the guest rooms, meaning, you did not have to worry about running into your brothers.

"You're angry," he mentioned in observation after a few moments.

"No," you answered quietly, leading up to your chamber door. "Just uneasy."

"Over me?"

"Over all of this," you admitted softly, entering first and hearing him follow. When the door closed, you continued, "It pains me to feel and see the divide in the family. And I walk both lines of it..."

"'S not easy," he agreed.

"No, it's not," you sighed, pulling your jewelry off. "And now isn't the time for petty games, my love. We've a child on the way, the time for grudges has passed - though I will not tell you to let this go." You turned to look at him in the firelight. "I know the pain caused, and I know what was taken from you..." He lowered his gaze, making you slowly approach him and reach for either hand. "But I need my husband with me, and not lost to some vendetta. We're having a baby, Aemond, and I'd like for them to know their uncles."

He sighed, nodding as he wrapped his arms up your waist. "Aye... I'd want that, too. But they can't call me brother, please, my love - "

You chuckled, "I will make sure they understand. We do not have to see them often, but the times we do, I'd like for some semblance of peace and normalcy."

He nodded with understanding, "Aye. For you, my love, I can do that."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," He sighed.

"Then please - no more Strong comments," you begged quietly. "They're leaving soon, please, do not instigate this further. You do not have to see them again, but I'd like to see my siblings off."

He nodded, "Whatever you want, my sweet."

"Well, I want my brothers and husband to get along but that's not happening, is it?"

"Not likely," he teased. "But I will do my best to restrain myself."

"I only ask that you try," you agreed, pecking his lips. "Now, are you gonna run off anymore or do I have my husband for the night?"

He smirked, "You have me, my love. I am here with you."

"Good," you smirked, letting a hand snake along the back of his neck to pull him down; searing a heated kiss to his lips.

[ series masterlist ]

[amirasainz]

hi!! i love this series sm and can u please write baby!sainz crushing on lando and carlos noticed it ++ lando and baby!sainz cute moments. thank you! have a good day 🫶🏻

Hey loves. I'm always so happy when I receive new requests. My requests are open and feedback is always welcome. Enjoy reading! -XoXo

Three times when...

The cooking fiasco

It was common knowledge in the Sainz household that Amira Sainz did not like cooking. In fact, it was a task she despised. When the Sainz children were younger, the chores were so divided that Amira never had to cook. She would go shopping for the ingredients or clean up the kitchen afterward. But she never lifted one pretty, manicured finger to prepare a meal.

So one could understand the shock when Carlos came down to the kitchen this morning and saw his baby sister cooking. And not just something easy like instant noodles—Senorita Sainz had prepared Croquetas de Jamón, a dish that required time and patience. Two things his little sister usually did not have.

However, Carlos had to admit they smelled amazing. When he tried to take a piece, his sister slapped his hand away. “Amira, what—” “Carlitos, they are not for hermano. It took me hours to prepare them, and I will not let you eat them all just because you’re hungry,” she informed her brother with a playful smile. “Come on, hermanita. Just one tiny piece. They look delicious.” She shook her head again, packed the Croquetas away, and told her brother they needed to leave.

The Sainz siblings, armed with their bags and a little plastic box filled with those delectable Croquetas de Jamón, entered the paddock. But it was Amira’s bold move that stole the show—skipping over to Lando and presenting him with her carefully prepared culinary masterpiece. Carlos, caught off guard, stood in the middle of the entrance, his jaw practically hitting the floor.

And then came Lando’s reaction: “Darling, this is the best thing I’ve ever tasted.” Amira blushed, and Carlos was left utterly dumbfounded.

Little did he know that his bewildered expression would soon become an internet sensation—a meme capturing the moment when Carlos’s brain seemingly took a vacation for a solid 40 minutes.

2. The hat

Oh, how he hated this hat. This stupid childish hat, that Lando wore for his first home GP. Carlos’s disdain for that neon green/yellow-ish hat was legendary, and it seemed to be etched into his very soul. But when he saw his sister, Amira, wearing the same hat, panic set in. His protective instincts kicked into high gear, and he bombarded her with questions: “Amira, what happened? Were you forced to wear this? Did Lando force you? Do you owe him money? Mi preciada hermana, you know I’ll lend you all the money I have. I will—”

And then, Amira’s interruption: “Don’t you think I look pretty?” Carlos was left speechless. Of course, she looked beautiful, but why this… thing on her head? Amira explained that it was Lando’s hat—the very same one he wore during his first home Grand Prix. She wanted to show her support for him, even though her loyalty to Carlos was unwavering.

Carlos grappled with conflicting emotions. On one hand, his sister’s gesture was sweet, even if the hat was an eyesore. On the other hand, why did it have to be that hat? His sister looked always lovely, but this neon monstrosity…

Before he could articulate his thoughts, Lando himself appeared. “Looking good, Mira,” he praised, and Amira blushed. Then, Lando turned to Carlos. “Hey, you good, man?”

And there it was—the unspoken tension between past teammates, siblings, and that ridiculous hat. Carlos managed a half-hearted nod. “Yeah, just… processing,” he mumbled. But deep down, he wondered if this whole situation would become another meme—one where Carlos stared into space, contemplating the mysteries of life, love, and questionable headwear.

3.The cut

It was racing weekend after a two week break. Carlos couldn’t help but tease Lando about that minuscule cut—the one that had everyone talking after his wild party weekend in the Netherlands.

“Cabrón, how did you even manage to cut yourself open? I mean, you were on a boat. A boat, Lando.” The banter flowed between them like old times, and Carlos secretly acknowledged that while Charles felt like a little brother, Lando was his true confidant. Amidst the tough competition at Ferrari, Lando was the one who knew all his inner struggles and insecurities—the person he could share everything with. Lando, who knew that Carlos didn't have any offers from other teams. Lando, who knew that the offer from Audi was taken back. He just couldn't tell Charles those things. Not because he couldn't trust him as well. But he always felt the need to protect the young Monegasque and didn't want to make him feel worse about his leave.

But then, the unexpected happened. Carlos’s attention shifted from Lando’s escapades to a quick blur of pink. The exact shade his sister had worn just days ago. And there they were: Amira and Lando, arms around each other. Concern etched on her face, she asked Lando if he was feeling alright, if she could do anything for him. His response—teasing yet sincere—sent a shiver down Carlos’s spine. Those stars in Lando’s eyes, the whispered words in Spanish from her: “Oh Lando, estoy tan feliz de que estés bien”, Lando rubbing her back for comfort.

Those two friends, caught in a moment that felt both intimate and confusing. Carlos’s mind raced. Did his sister have a crush on Lando? It couldn’t be, right?

Or could it?

[vodika-vibes]

A Marriage Of Convenience

Summary: You and Kix have been friends for years, since near the start of the war to be more precise. So, when you ask him to marry you, in the hopes that a legal wedding would finally give him and his brothers the rights that they deserve, he jumped at the chance. It worked. And now, four years later, with the war over, you’re still happily married to your best friend.

Pairing: Clone Medic Kix x F!Reader

Word Count: 1298

Warnings: Some miscommunication

Tagging: @bad4amficideas @justiceandwar98 @Mira-Loves-Star-Wars @tiredbi-peach

@dukeoftheblackstar @trixie2023 @kimiheartblade @padawancat97 @falconfeather23435

@etod @n0vqni

A/N: So this whole idea was born from the many asks I got on Saturday about this very topic. Also, I'm feeling much better, it seems like my fever finally broke late last night. Maybe. I haven't actually checked, lol.

Kix wakes slowly, taking his time to fight off the claws of sleep that want to drag him back into dreamland.

Not that there’s any reason for him to be awake, he’s not a soldier anymore and the clinic is closed today, so he could sleep in if he wanted to. But, even now, years after the war sleeping in feels wrong to him. 

So he lays in bed and blinks hazily at the ceiling, waiting to wake up enough that he’s able to roll over and look at his comm to make sure none of his brothers did something stupid last night.

Kix is about to roll out of bed, intent on starting his normal routine— an hour-long run, and then showering before making breakfast— when he hears a groan from next to him. 

His riduur is slowly waking up, and he can’t stop the smile that crosses his face at the sight of her lying there. Her hair is a mess, sticking up in random directions, and curling into her face. 

She blinks at him blearily, “Kix?”

“Good morning, riduur,” He sits up and leans over to brush a curl off her face, only for it to spring right back into place, and he has to muffle his laughter. “Your hair has taken on a life of its own.”

“S’alright,” She mumbles, “It does that sometimes.” She yawns widely, and Kix feels his heart clench. She really is unfairly adorable. Good thing he’s already locked her down and he doesn’t have to worry about anyone stealing her from him.

“You can go back to sleep, riduur,” Kix says lightly as he lightly pushes her hair out of her face so he can see her pretty eyes, “It’s early.”

“You’re awake,” She accuses as she rubs her cheek against his hand.

“I have a thing about sleeping in,” Kix replies, “You know this, cyar’ika.”

She squints at him, “Someday, I’m going to make one of your brothers tell me what those words mean,”

He leans in as if to share a secret, “They’ll never tell you because I’m scarier than you are.”

She pouts at him, and it’s almost enough to make him want to tell her what riduur and cyar’ika and cyare mean. Almost.

“Kix,” She whines his name and it takes all of his willpower to keep breathing, “We should sleep some more.”

“Cyare,” He teases her, “I’m going to go for a run.”

Somehow, her pout becomes more pronounced, “But sleep.”

“I’m not stopping you from sleeping in, cyar’ika.” Kix reassures, “And I’m certainly not going to force you to go on a run with me.”

“Good. If you did I’d ask for a divorce.”

“Ouch.” Kix replies with a laugh, “No need to worry, riduur, I know you’re allergic to running.”

“I’m only going to run if someone is chasing me,” She yawns again and buries her face in her pillow, her gaze locked on his face.

“Good to know.” Kix watches her watching him, and he raises a single brow, “Why are you staring?”

She grins at him and sits up suddenly, flinging her arms around his neck and knocking him back onto the bed.

It’s so surprising that a startled laugh falls from him, “Riduur—”

She buries her face in his neck and drapes one of her legs across his hips, her arms tightening around him, “There. Now we sleep.” Her breath is warm against his neck and Kix shivers, unable to help himself.

Slowly his arms wrap around her, one of his hands tangling in her hair, while the other slowly strokes her back, “Someone’s clingy this morning.” He murmurs in her ear.

“I’m clingy every morning,” She replies as she rubs her nose against his neck, “You just normally get up before I can be clingy.”

Kix hums thoughtfully and then shifts his head so that his nose is pressed into her hair. She smells citrusy, a mix of her shampoo, body wash, and the lotion she prefers. It’s a scent that he’s come to associate with her and with safety.

It’s a scent he’s come to associate with love. His love for her, to be more specific.

Kix doesn’t say anything for a moment, and he’s almost positive that she’s fallen back to sleep while half lying on him, until her fingers curl into the thin material of the shirt he wears to bed.

“What’s up, cyare?” Kix asks as he glances down to try and see her face.

She shifts so that her face isn’t buried in his neck, and the expression on her face isn’t one he’s ever seen before. It’s soft and warm and makes goosebumps spread across his entire body.

“Kix,” His name is a sigh on her lips and his arms tighten around her, pulling a startled squeak from her. A smile spreads across her face and she shifts so she’s able to press her hand against his cheek.

Kix closes his eyes and leans into her touch.

“I’ve been thinking,” She murmurs.

“About?” She doesn’t say anything for a moment, and Kix opens his eyes to look at her, her expression has become slightly wistful as she gazes up at him, “Cyare?”

“This whole thing started as a way to get you all rights,” She murmurs, “And it worked. You’re all legal citizens of the Republic.” She pauses her thumb lightly trailing against his jaw, “If…if you wanted a divorce,” She says quietly, “So you can find someone you actually love—”

“Stop.” Kix interrupts and she immediately falls silent. He slowly moves his hands to cup her face, “I want you. Only you.”

She blinks at him, and then she huffs, “You don’t love me, Kix—”

“Says who?”

She blinks at him dumbly, “What?”

“Who says I don’t love you?”

“...General Skywalker said that the marriage was—”

“I haven’t spoken to Skywalker since the war ended. How would he know?” Kix points out.

She blinks at him again.

Kix sighs, “Listen to me, riduur. Are you listening?”

“Yeah.”

“I love you. I’ve loved you for ages. And it’s fine if you don’t feel the same way. I’m happy with how we are. I absolutely do not want a divorce.”

“...you don’t?”

“No, I don’t.”

She shifts slightly so that she’s lying on top of him, her gaze scanning his face as if trying to determine if he’s lying to her or not. And then she releases a soft sigh and she leans in to press her forehead against his, “You love me?”

Kix smiles at her, “You single-handedly won rights for me and my brothers. How could I not love you?”

“Not single-handedly.”

“Close enough.” He counters dismissively.

A soft laugh falls from her lips, and Kix can’t help the small grin that crosses his face at the sound. 

And then, quickly, she presses her lips against his.

It’s the first time they’ve kissed since their wedding day and Kix immediately leans into the kiss, allowing her to set the pace. And when she breaks the kiss, she looks flustered and she won’t meet his gaze.

It takes him a few moments to reset his brain and his grin is broad, “Does this mean that all talks of divorce are off the table?”

She shifts and presses her face against his throat, but he feels her nod.

“Good.” Kix tightens his arms around her and adjusts her so that she’s lying on the bed again. “I suppose I little early morning cuddling would be good for us.”

She peeks up at him, a small grin playing on her lips.

Later he’ll comm Rex and get him to find out what, exactly, Skywalker said to his perfect riduur, but for now, she deserves all of his attention. And she’s going to get it.

[thatbirdrestaurant]

ʚ fairy tail headcanons ɞ

ʚ these all range from canon-compliant to pure fanfiction lala land ɞ

ʚ this ended up being so much longer than i planned ɞ

ʚɞ

the b team from the gmg hang out regularly and are all very good friends. mirajane, cana, and juvia have special "making fun of laxus" privileges that not even bickslow has.

laxus is genuinely embarrassed about how he used to talk about erza and she uses it against him very often. "oh, yes, because how can i - a mere woman - possibly accomplish this task myself?" "fine! i'll open the pickle jar!"

cain instinct is strong in the fairy tail guild. everyone is resisting the urge to smack each other, and most of them aren't very good at it. even laxus can be a target, especially after he chilled out. the most surprising display was when levy smacked him square in the head with one of her books, and he just yelled at her, or when cana stared at erza for a few seconds before smacking her across the face.

sex education was, probably, the worst thing to happen to those who grew up in the guild hall. either makarov didn't give enough details or he gave way too many.

lucy and gray are the biggest gossipers in the guild. they know everyone's secrets and while they don't blackmail people, they never hide something from the other. if they're staring at you and whispering, they are talking mad shit or they found out something about you.

juvia and natsu get along alarmingly well. they're not even sure how it works, just that they're so different that it kind of makes them perfect for each other (as friends).

natsu is sting's celebrity crush and he thinks he's doing a great job at hiding it. he's not. everyone knows. rogue knows, lector knows, all of sabertooth knows, all of fairy tail knows, sorcerer weekly knows, natsu knows. no one has the heart to tell him.

juvia doesn't have romantic feelings for lyon but she wants them to be friends so badly. not to get closer to gray, just because she thinks he's really cool and easy to talk to. lyon is so smug about it and gray wants to throttle him for it.

erza and mira's rivalry is alive in the tiniest of ways. they're always having small contests like "i bet i can wash this cup faster than you," or "i bet lucy says hi to me first." there's no hard feelings involved, they just can't help but be a little competitive with each other.

erza was illiterate for a really long time, way longer than she should have been, and makarov felt awful for not realizing it sooner. she was just looking at the reward numbers and going with the flow. on top of that, she has really bad dyslexia, something that somehow went under the radar.

related to the previous headcanon, lucy eventually realizes that the reason natsu has such bad grammar and reading comprehension is because he was tutored by erza, and erza's so bad at writing and understanding big words because she has undiagnosed dyslexia. so takes the time to slowly teach them how to read more complicated things, showing erza ways to read with her dyslexia, and giving them handwriting lessons. the first time erza writes a comprehendible letter is to jellal, and she's absolutely ecstatic about it. natsu is thrilled that he can finally read lucy's book without feeling stupid.

gray teaches wendy a lot about social cues and how to survive in a city as big as magnolia. she grew up very sheltered in a tiny village, so it makes sense that she struggles with "big city living." she's very appreciative and gray is just happy he can be of use.

gray stopped smoking because he heard lucy say she finds smokers unattractive. (gray, in the manga, smoked for a bit, and it's explicitly stated that, at least for the first handful of arcs, he was interested in lucy).

natsu started having romantic feelings for lucy during their fight against kain, but he didn't realize he was in love with her until he watched future lucy die. lucy didn't realize she had feelings for natsu until she realized she was in love with him, which was after the events with the eclipse gate. (the specific moments i'm talking about: kain | future lucy | post-eclipse gate)

between her and gajeel, juvia is the older one. she doesn't give it much thought but gajeel sees her in a big sister role, and has found himself accidentally referring to her as his older sister. which he would rather die than let her find out about.

when asked who she would go after if gray wasn't in the picture, most people expect juvia to say she could never picture a world without gray, but she will look you dead in the eye and, without any hesitation, say, "erza."

gray and loke had something very gay going on before loke went back to the celestial spirit world. the sexual tension between the two of them in this scene is too strong, they've fucked, kissed at least.

when gray realized he liked juvia back, he had a full mental breakdown for several reasons. a fear of intimacy, a fear of losing her like he has every single woman he's ever cared about, and because he just couldn't believe her very weird and very aggressive flirting tactics worked.

in the same vein, evergreen was inconsolable for days when she realized she was in love with elfman. laxus, freed, and bickslow have never been more worried about her mental well-being.

all of crime sorciere have a betting pool on when jellal and erza will get their heads out of their asses. they've had to place new bets several times because they're still dancing around each other. at this point, the betting pool is getting tense, and someone is going to lose so much money.

cobra and jellal kissed once because they were both extremely drunk and extremely sad about their respective crushes. neither of them remember it but the rest of crime sorciere can never forget watching cobra shove his tongue down jellal's throat.

makarov has said "you're like the son i never had" way too many times for it to be an accident.

elfman wants to be a girl dad so bad. he absolutely loves having sisters and he's obsessed with the idea of having a daughter to spoil and dote on.

gray and juvia have a kid before getting married...whoops.

going against the grain and literally what mashima has said, and saying that natsu and lucy have a son before having a daughter. he's a lot like lucy while their daughter is almost exactly like natsu.

yukino is a raging lesbian and is endlessly distressed by how many people think she's in love with sting. her month was ruined when minerva congratulated them on their relationship. completely ignoring the fact that sting is a gay man and is openly down bad for rogue.

rufus and orga have been dating for almost three years and literally no one knows.

lucy cried for three hours when she found out about anna and ichiya.

laxus and freed are in a queer-platonic relationship. laxus is aroace and has no interest in being romantically involved with someone, but he likes the dynamics of dating someone, and freed just likes having someone to spoil (back massages, compliments, all the things freed does in canon).

natsu has ended up in so many situations where he's put in feminine clothing, that he's actually started to kind of like it. he really doesn't mind the idea of wearing a skirt or letting lucy do his makeup. lucy is obsessed with it, and they sometimes do each other's makeup.

romeo is a trans boy and canon is my enemy. macao is extremely supportive and is always introducing romeo as enthusiastically as he can. "this is my son, romeo. isn't he so handsome? just the most handsome boy out there. i'm so proud of my son. he's the best." it's as embarrassing as it is endearing.

gray gets really bad joint pain after using his demon slayer magic, because the demon ice is so cold that it hurts him. thankfully, juvia is always happy to give him massages and crack his back.

natsu had the fattest crush on laxus from the age of thirteen to the very end of the battle of fairy tail arc. everyone just thought he had too much faith in his guild mates, but it was actually because he was so horrendously down bad for laxus that he couldn't accept that he was kind of a psycho.

gray tries so hard to seem cool and nonchalant that he accidentally flirts with basically everyone he interacts with. he thinks he's being cool and mysterious, instead he's making people fall in love with him.

loke tells lucy she's beautiful all the way into her sixties, and he means it every single time.

jude, technically, didn't take layla's maiden name, they just had the most unbelievable coincidence in the world where layla's last name was "heartfilia," while jude's was "heartphilia," so neither of them really saw a point in changing their last names.

juvia and gajeel were not only introduced to the wonders of genuine friendship and family after joining fairy tail, but also the amazing world of weed by cana and bickslow. laxus will never forget walking into his apartment with the thunder legion for the first time in years, and being met with juvia, gajeel, and cana on the couch, passing a blunt, while bickslow was raiding the kitchen.

gajeel and levy elope, only bringing lily and juvia with them as their witnesses. lucy was a little (a lot) insulted by it, but she eventually understood why levy did what she did when her and natsu decided to do the exact same thing, and only bring along their team. basically, elfman and evergreen, and gray and juvia are like the only couples to have a ceremony.

fairy tail has a lot of lawsuits and property damage bills, and freed, levy, and lucy almost had collective aneurysms trying to get through and organize them all. the guild has never spent more money on coffee.

lucy eventually takes advantage of the fact she has a very powerful kick and gets a black belt in taekwondo, a type of martial art that focuses mostly on kicking. her raw leg power combined with knowing what she's doing AND her heels? deadly.

(cw for child abuse on this one, skip if needed) minerva has such a massive appetite because jiemma would starve her both as punishment but also to "make her stronger." her body just never feels full, like the food will be taken away from her again.

sabertooth members calling minerva "m'lady" started as a serious thing to show respect, but now it's a running joke where everyone is trying to be as obnoxious as possible with it.

it's kind of implied that rogue is (at least) sexually attracted to minerva, and the fact larcade's "find out who's a virgin" spell hits him right after seeing minerva being affected by it, makes me think he lost his virginity to her. it was awkward and objectively bad but he's still glad it happened. sting drank an entire bottle of tequila when he found out about it.

getting 1 v. 2-d by natsu was the biggest ego crash sting and rogue have ever, and will ever experience. they will never be able to live it down. it will follow them to their graves. please never talk about how egotistical they used to be, they will cry from embarrassment.

minerva calls everyone's boyfriend their "boy toy" because, and i quote, "i don't respect men."

juvia is the best gift giver you will ever meet. she just has a way of always knowing what's perfect for someone, and it's a mutual agreement to always make her go last for gift giving so everyone else feels better about their gift for at least a few minutes.

natsu is the kind of guy to remember something someone said to him once in passing and randomly bring it up weeks or months later. his brain is a library of miniscule information about the people around him.

gajeel talks trash about levy's romance novels but will also be sneaking peeks over her shoulder and trying not to react to various moments. he is deeply invested in the plot twists and the main characters' romance.

while he's traveling, gildarts will buy cana a gift from every town his visits, which results in him having about a pound of knickknacks, clothes, and alcohol for her when he comes back. she pretends to be embarrassed about it but she secretly loves being spoiled by him.

gildarts and cana go on daddy-daughter dates and she'd rather drink bleach than let other people find out about it. gildarts is just happy to be there.

natsu and cana have had this conversation: "so, are we, like, siblings now?" "excuse me?" "because, like, gildarts is basically my dad, and he's your dad. so..." "we are not siblings, natsu." "okay, didn't know you liked being an only child so much." "go fuck yourself."

gildarts knows lucy is going to be his daughter in law. he doesn't know if it's going to be from her marrying natsu or from her marrying cana.

wakaba would sneak teenage gray cigarettes. erza, mirajane, and makarov almost killed him when they found out about it.

mira is aroace, feeling absolutely no romantic attraction and being sex repulsed, but she is absolutely obsessed with other peoples' love lives. she thrives on it.

lisanna is fairy tail's resident lesbian and is a little in love with every girl she meets.

[spidybaby]

Stressed

Summary: When he's stressed and worried about work, that's the only thing on his mind.

Warnings: angst because I'm a sucker for it 😤

A/N: So I'm inspired, and you already know I love angst, I breathe angst, I eat angst. (Okay, I'm done exaggerating), but lemme know how you are? Are you drinking water? Hope you're fine 💐❤️

Since Kylian sent that letter to the higher-ups of PSG about not wanting to stay until 2025, everything is drama.

The french tabloids, for some reason, want him to look bad, want him to look like this ungrateful man.

He's experiencing too much pressure, Sergio leaving, Lionel leaving, possibly Verrati leaving. It was a mess. The whole teams is.

Especially now that this dumb reporter, her name is Sam, she's all over him about the whole side of him about the leaving, the selling, the quitting of Galtier. He's done with her, with the other reporters, with the ultras hating him for even breathing.

"Don't worry, Kyky, everything's going to be fine." Sergio pat his back, Kylian was one of the first ones to know about his retirement of the club. "Don't let that chick got to you."

"I just want her away from me." He drinks too fast for what he's used to. "Can't she cover something else?"

"Look, hermano." Ney says, he had to deal with the same reporter a few months before. "Just tell her something completely different from what she's asking, and she'll leave."

He knows she just wants to write something before anyone else, something that comes from his own, not for speculation. "Lie to her."

He scuff, it's not that easy to be away from her when she's also part of the PSG press people. She has access to everywhere. That makes him uncomfortable.

"Mira Kylian." Leo says. He's not new to this whole press drama. "Just don't mind her, ignore her, saying you have to be somewhere." He smiles, nodding to his advice.

Leo and Sergio are the ones he trusts with this media hate. They're goats, and they come from a long road. He can't deny that even Neymar is an expert. But he's been there for his own stupid mind, even tho he denied it.

He followed the advice Leo gave him, always ignoring her, saying the usual bonjour or a revoir. Nothing else.

That made her mad. She even asked Galtier for his number, not caring about writing him. That took him to the limit. He couldn't escape her. She was everywhere and anywhere at the same time.

"Don't stress, mon amour." You say kissing his cheek. You're massaging him, wanting to help him relax. "I know it's hard, but I'm here for you. It's only you and me."

You tried everything for him to relax, you didn't know the whole story. He never told you about this reporter. So you only think it's because of the whole letter drama.

♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤

"Bonjour, Kylian." Sam says, looking at him. She's blocking the door of the lockers. "Can we talk." She raised her eyebrows.

"I'm busy." He tries to pass her, but she's not moving, and the last thing he wants is touching her or making any type of contact. "Please move."

"Just five minutes." She says, begging him. "And I'll leave you alone forever."

"I prefer you to leave me alone now." His voice is this deep tone. He's done with her games. "Get out of the way." He ask nicely.

"Four minutes." She begged again.

"Sam, out of the way."

"Three."

He breathes deeply, and he's losing his temper. "I'll say it only one more time, and believe me, that I hate repeating myself." He grabs her arm, not hard but the right amount of pressure to move her gently. "I'm busy." He's mad. His whole day is ruined, thanks to her.

He enters his car, asking the driver to take him home. He's supposed to go to his mother's house, but he's too mad for that.

He arrived home funding. His train bag is now on the floor, you're home early, and you notice the noise, thinking maybe he fell.

"Are you okay?" You ask from your bedroom. Maybe he's hurt. "Ky? Amour?" You talk louder this time.

After a few minutes, you hear the footsteps on the stairs. A very agitated Kylian enters the room. "Hi, handsome." You say, opening your arms to him.

"Remember how you said you can take the stress out of me?" He sais breathless, you nod smiling. "Do it."

You throw the covers away from you. Ready to attack your boyfriend with kisses and attention. Your lips feel heavy on his own. He's tense. You can feel him.

There was no other reason for his mind to be elsewhere, hes uncomfortable by the fact that he has Sam on the back of his head, tunning after him, basically harrassi him.

There's no other reason for him to focus on anything other than you. The way your lips feel on his neck, the way your hands are touching the right places, the way you're making him feel good.

His hips are moving to a very fast pace. He's not one to take his frustration on you, but the way you're moaning his name and how your nails are scratching his back is making him lose control.

He doesn't know how, but it happens. He can't take her name out of his mind, now even when you're taking him so well.

When he dips his hips at a certain angle, the back of your head digs further into the pillow, and he attacks the exposed side of your neck. He's leaving red marks, marking you as his. The groan that's escaping his lips are pornographyc.

You could feel nothing but him, the weight of his body over yours, the thin layer of sweat on his back under your fingertips and on his forehead, making the hair close to your neck to stick to it.

What's making the entire situation so much worse is the fact that no matter how much he tries, he can't stop thinking about her. Not in a sexual way, but angrily wanting her to go away, to leave his mind alone.

His hand is griping your waist so hard. He knows he'll leave a mark. Moans coming out of his mouth. “Fuck, you feel so good.” he goes faster, knowing by the sounds you're making that you're close.

"Sam-" that's when he stops. His whole body stop. He doesn't know why he's saying her name. His eyes are open in a panic.

"Get off," you say out of breath. Your heart is beating as fast as if it's going off your body. "Get off of me."

You push his shoulders for him to get off of you. He pulled out and tried to explain. "Y/n, please, I didn't mean to do that."

Your mind is lost, one moment you're under him, holding him closer, kissing him and enjoying him.

And now you're pushing him away, not wanting him to touch you. You grab the covers of the bed. You wrap it around your body before running to the bathroom.

"Amour, please." He tries to grab your arms. "Amour." He almost catch you, but he's not fast enough.

The next thing he knows is you slamming the door in his face. He can hear the way you're breathing and how you sob. The sound is making his heart hurt.

"I promise I wasn't-" he can't even think of an excuse. He's fucked up, he's hearing the way you're crying and can't think of how to solve it. "Listen, she's a reporter that has been harassing me. She's always on me, and I".

You open the door, interrupting his explanation. You're standing there, tears running down your face, blanket around your body, eyes sad.

"Mon amour." He doesn't know if he can touch you. He doesn't want to make you more uncomfortable than what you already are. "I promise it's not what you think."

You pass him, walking to the room to get your clothes, dressing yourself again, hurried to get away from him.

"Please don't go." He says, hand grabbing your arm. "Please, let me explain." He feels like crying, not wanting to let go.

"Not now." You get off his hold. "I can't do this. Please get away from me." You push him lightly.

"Don't go, I'll go, but you don't have to go." He dresses himself, not wanting you to leave. "I'm fucking sorry." Your back is facing him. You can't look at him in the eyes.

♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤

The past week, you were running away from Kylian, leaving extra early for work and returning while he was still training.

For him, it was hard not being able to speak with you. But you needed time, and he's willing to let you have it. Even if that hurt him in the process.

For you, it's been weird. You can't wrap your mind around the fact of what's going on. For you, it hurts that he didn't trust you enough to talk to you about what's happening, and the other part of you is your ego being hurt by him naming another girls name.

You were sure with a talk and being honest, you both can make up. You trusted him when he says he has never been with her, but you also needed to know the whole story.

The sound of keys jiggling is the way you know he's home. When he walks he sees you sitting on the couch.

He's tired, everyone is hating on him for the stupid tabloids, and he can't even find comfort in your arms because he hurt you without intended to.

"Can we talk?" He swears the sound of your voice is magical. He missed it. He missed you. He nods and takes a seat next to you. "Who's Sam?"

He didn't hesitate to detail the whole thing. The things his playmates advised him. "Kylian, why didn't you report her to the management?" You're mad, not with him but with her for being such a bitch and harass him about a stupid football news.

"Because I thought she was going to leave me alone." He yells, frustrated. "I can't do this anymore."

You hug him, caressing his back and him cry his frustration. His not crying about her. He's crying about the news, about the hate, about the media not leaving him alone.

"I'm here, don't cry." You kiss the top of his head. "I'm sorry I didn't hear you before."

"It's not you, I'm the one who made the mistake of letting her abuse her power." He let you dry his tears. "I'm so done."

"It's not your fault. Don't say that." You kiss his cheeks. "You're fine now, I'm not letting her or anyone hurt you or make you feel uncomfortable." You hugged him. Promising you'll never let him feel that way again.

[livesworthlivingau]

Lives Worth Living Chapter 3

General ISAT Spoilers possible below

"Oh hey, welcome back Sif! You're just in time, Bonnie's finishing up dinner now"

"Where's Loop? They shouldn't miss dinner!... Wait... Can Loop actually eat food?" (You pause... Mira brings up a very good point actually...) "Uhh… I'm actually not sure... But they said don't wait up, they uh... have some stuff to think about." (You respond, worried about them, but just glad to be back with your family for now. You take a seat at the table next to Isabeau, placing your hand in his and entwining your fingers, laying your head on his shoulder with a content sigh... wait... why is everyone staring at you?) "Uhh… S-Sif?..." (Isa asked, you could feel he was incredible tense all of the sudden, his palm soaking wet, even shaking a little... OH STARS! You quickly pull away, face burning darker as you realize what just happened. It was a leftover reflex from your former life. It was so natural you didn't even think about doing it. Mirabelle just gave a cute giggle and smile, almost as if she was enjoying one of her silly romance books.) "I didn't expect you to be so forward Siffrin." (Odile noted with a raised brow and a bit of a smirk, seeming to at least be glad the two of you were progressing in the relationship.) "I-I-... I'm sorry Isa I-I... I don't know, I wasn't thinking..." (You have no way to explain the actions you just took, just hiding your face in your cloak like you used to, tipping your hat forward as well to hide your shame.) "N-No it's okay!... I-It... was really nice actually..." (Isa was blushing just as brightly, slowly extending his hand, inviting you to place yours in it again. You know things didn't progress this quickly before, but... it couldn't hurt to get a tiny head start, could it? You return your hand to his, the both of you just flustered and looking away, still holding hands... the entire display must look terribly stupid... but it was worth it.) "MALANGA FRITTERS TIME!" (Bonnie shouts as they barge in, holding a large plate of your favorite dish... stopping and staring at the awkward scene before them) "... Why's everyone being weird?" --------------------------------------------------------- (You sigh some to yourself as you walked through the hall that night, it was a long day with a lot of surprises, so it was nice to finally have a moment to yourself, heading for the living space to relax on your own, only to find...) "Siffrin... I don't mean to force you, but considering everything that happened recently, I think you'll understand why I feel the need to pry. You've been acting strange, and not in the expected way. Do you care to explain?" (Odile... always so crabbing smart... She sat there with a serious yet caring face, and she clearly wouldn't let this go easily... Oh boy, how to handle this?) "Are you sure you wanna open this can of worms right now?" "I promise you I won't tell the other's unless I absolutely feel the need to, if that would make you feel better." "... I watched you die Odile... I watched you take your last breath... 30 years from now." (Odile's expression quickly shifted from studious to shocked, horrified even. She takes a while to process this, and will likely need longer than she'd allow herself) "Tell you what... bring a bottle, we'll have some fun with it, hehe~" (You instruct, shifting to a bittersweet look, and 'winking'. This seems to relieve at least some of Odile's worry, nodding and getting up to find a trusty bottle of vodka.) ----------------------------------------------------------- That's the end of this chapter but if anyone wants to suggest questions for Odile to ask in Sus 2: Electric Boogaloo, I'd love to hear them!~

[tokkias]

tell me you loved me from the start ship: natsu dragneel x lucy heartfilia summary: There's nothing that can get between a friendship as strong as Natsu and Lucy's—or at least, that's what they'd like to think. Sometimes feelings are a little too complicated for it to be smooth sailing when you're feeling them towards your best friend. Lucy finds that one out the hard way. ao3

Lucy had always been good at keeping secrets. Many a friend or guildmate had confided in her before, and as such, she had gained plenty of dirt that she was sure the guild’s gossips would kill for, by virtue of being able to keep her mouth shut. She was, for the most part, an open book. There were a few things she felt the need to keep close to her chest, which would have been difficult to achieve in the first place considering just how nosy her best friend was.

Given their frequent close proximity, Lucy couldn’t keep a secret from Natsu, even if she wanted to. He knew everything about her, and she, in turn, knew everything about him. She trusted him, so there was no reason to keep secrets. They both spoke candidly to each other about their lives and their feelings, each seeing no reason to keep things from the other.

For the most part, anyway.

It was just one, teensy, tiny little secret, something she was sure would go away at first. She had expected it to pass quickly; what she had not expected was for her little, baby crush on him to spiral out of control into a full-blown yearning for her partner that consumed her entire being to the point where he was always on her mind at any given time.

Part of her felt guilty for keeping it from him, though the other reasoned that she was sure Natsu felt similarly on some things. Romance was never the type of thing they spoke about; he didn’t ask and she didn’t tell, but that was before her thoughts of romance involved him.

A brief period of contemplation had passed in which she thought about letting him know, but the realistic part of her brain reminded her of the irreparable damage that could be done to their relationship. She liked what they had too much to throw it away over anything. Instead, she resigned herself to the fact that Natsu would never know.

It wasn’t the most well-kept secret: Levy knew about it, as did Erza, Mira, and Wendy; even Gray had been in on it too, but Natsu still remained none the wiser. It was nice being able to confide in others when she couldn’t with Natsu, but it felt wrong to keep secrets from him.

It had been about a year or so since her feelings had become too big to contain, and she had let it slip to Levy, and somehow it had become an open secret to everyone but Natsu. Perhaps it was out of pity, for fear of watching their sweet angel Lucy be rejected by a dense and romance-averse Natsu, but whatever the reason, everyone was sure to keep tight-lipped around him.

That’s what made it all the worse when it was Lucy who accidentally managed to let part of the secret slip.

Lucy rested her chin in the heel of her hands, her elbows balanced on the table below her where she sat in defeat, her gaze not even focused on Levy before her as she expressed her woes.

"I just wish he’d look at me, you know?" She sighed, resisting the urge to flop down onto the table in defeat. "I want him to say I’m pretty, or something, but it’s like he doesn’t even see me as a woman."

"Who doesn’t see you as a woman?" Came the voice of the man in question as he slid into the seat next to her, and Lucy immediately froze.

"Oooooooooohhh~ Lucy’s got boy problems," Happy chimed in with his sing-song teasing.

The two of them had been out on a solo job for a few days and hadn’t been expected back until tomorrow. Had she known there was a possibility that they would come to the guild hall today, Lucy would have kept her stupid mouth shut. Now, all she could do was gape like a goddamned moron as she sat paralysed in fear that she had just let it slip.

"Soooooo~ Who’s the lucky fella?" Happy sang, clearly trying to worm his way into information that could be used against her down the line.

"Yeah, I wanna know too," Natsu added, his tone and gaze much more serious than Happy’s.

Lucy looked over to Levy in a plea for help, but it seemed as though she had slunk away in the moments since Natsu’s arrival, leaving her to deal with this one on her own.

"How was the job? Did you do any cool stuff? Eat any good food?" She asked in a desperate hope of diverting the conversation.

"The job was fine, I kicked some ass and Happy ate so much fish afterwards that he passed out," Natsu replied in quick succession, seeing right through her. "Who is this guy you’ve got a crush on?"

"Crush? Who said anything about a crush?" She sputtered, trying to maintain her composure.

It wasn’t technically a lie. What she had going on was far beyond a crush.

"You did, just now," he said bluntly. "You said you wish he’d call you pretty. You only say that mushy stuff about guys you wanna date."

Lucy paused for a moment, surprised by how adamant he was about this. She’d assumed that getting him to talk about his job, all the cool things he did, all the bad guys he’d fought, and all the food he’d eaten along the way would be enough to divert his attention, but he was stuck on the one thing she did not want to talk about with him.

"Come on, I promise I won’t tell anyone," he whined through her silence.

That’s ironic , she thought to herself.

"No," was all she managed to get out without incriminating herself.

"Why not?"

"Because I don’t want to."

"What if I say please?"

"The answer is still no."

"Pretty please?"

The two of them continued to run in circles, neither willing to be the first to break, but knowing just how stubborn Natsu could be, Lucy was beginning ware down, only, not in the way he might have hoped.

"I’m not going to tell you, Natsu, so just drop it, okay?" She finally said, unwilling to let this go on any longer than it needed to.

"Why not?" He repeated.

"Can we not do this?" Lucy sighed. "Please?"

"Why?"

He sounded like a broken record at this point, and figuring that she was not going to win their little game, Lucy simply didn’t reply. Natsu, on the other hand, was not satisfied with this response.

"Tell me," he said.

Lucy stood her ground.

"Tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me," he began to repeat, over and over again, until the words began to blur together and Lucy simply could not take it anymore.

Grabbing her bag and throwing it over her shoulder, Lucy stood up to take her leave.

"I’m going home," she declared. "Go bother someone else."

She half-expected him to follow behind and continue his nagging, but it seemed her foul mood had done enough to have her off the hook for now.

By the time her rent was due once more and it was time for them to take on a new job, Lucy had hoped that Natsu had dropped the subject. She had hoped that in the time between when she last saw him and now, he had found a new subject to fixate on. That was decidedly not the case.

Suddenly, she regretted agreeing to walk the scenic route.

"Have you changed your mind yet?"

"No, Natsu, I have not changed my mind," Lucy sighed, arms folded across her chest as they walked. "I’m not going to tell you."

"Come oooonnnnnn," Natsu drawled. "If you tell me, I’ll be your best friend."

Lucy quirked an eyebrow.

"I already am your best friend."

"Nuh-uh," he refuted. "Happy’s my best friend."

"Aye!" Happy butted in, much to Lucy’s chagrin.

"But if you tell us who you like, I’ll let you be my new best friend."

"Hey!" Happy added, clearly not pleased to have the position of Natsu’s best friend being used as a bargaining chip.

Lucy looked over at him to ensure he saw just how unimpressed she looked with his deal.

"You’re not very good at this whole bribery thing, are you?"

Deflating at her reply, Natsu’s shoulders slumped forward and he stuck his lips out in a pout, apparently having thought that worming his way into Lucy’s secret would be much easier than it actually was.

"Please?" He tried rather pathetically this time.

"Still no."

"Will you tell me?" Happy chimed in.

"Absolutely not."

"What if I promise not to tell Natsu?"

"Wh- Hey! That’s no fair!" Natsu cried out.

"That’s a lie, and you know it," Lucy said.

Happy responded with a sheepish look that told her that she was right on the money. That damn cat would backstab her for the promise of fish any day.

"What if I annoy you into telling us?" Natsu suggested, and Lucy grimaced at the idea.

Being annoying was certainly high on the list of things that those two were good at, and anyone not as strong as her may have caved right at that moment, but Lucy remained strong.

"Tell us! Tell us! Tell us!" Happy began to chant, with the background vocals of Natsu’s "pleaaaassssssseeeeeee," ringing in the back.

Pressing her hands over her ears in some attempt to block the noise out, Lucy had never regretted not taking the train more than now.

The thud of Natsu’s pack hitting the floor was louder than usual as he let out his frustration on the poor thing. Though he had been all smiles just before, Happy was quick to notice the way his mood had soured into an almost sombre state the moment Lucy was no longer around, and he thought he had an inkling as to why.

"Are you sad because Lucy won’t tell you who she likes?"

"No," Natsu shrugged, brows furrowed as if he were deep in the dregs of thought—something Happy rarely saw on his face. "Maybe, I guess."

Natsu let out a hefty sigh, though the expression on his face remained inscrutable, even to Happy.

"I just-" He stopped, his brain unable to keep up with the words he was saying. "You know."

He didn’t have to elaborate. He did know.

Though Natsu was never really one to talk about his feelings too much, he’d confided in Happy on many occasions about his little Lucy problem. Though some liked to think of him as dumb, dense, and unaware, Happy knew better than that. He knew that Natsu had his complicated feelings and emotions just like anyone else; he just kept them closer to his chest and played things off like they didn’t affect him at all. In quiet moments like this, however, Happy caught a glimpse into what was really going on in that brain of his.

"Why are you doing this if it’s just going to hurt your feelings knowing that she likes someone else?" Happy asked, trying his best to be empathetic to his situation.

Natsu was quiet for a moment as he mulled the question over in his mind. Happy knew there wasn’t really an answer—not a rational one, anyway. Anything beyond admitting that this was just some unusual form of self-inflicted pain would be nothing short of a blatant lie.

"‘Cause I need to make sure they’re good enough for her," is what he settled on.

It sounded reasonable enough. If Happy didn’t know better, he might have almost believed him.

Almost.

"I can’t let Lucy date some loser who doesn’t call her pretty," Natsu huffed. "What kinda best friend would I be if I did that?"

Happy didn’t reply, instead letting him try to justify himself, though perhaps more to convince himself than Happy. He didn’t feel the need to probe further—he’d simply deny any accusations he made because Natsu was stubborn like that. If he wanted to figure out his Lucy troubles, he’d simply have to do it in his own time.

When Natsu hadn’t brought it up again the next time they were together, Lucy had thought she was safe. Little did she know, he had simply lulled her into a false sense of security that remained throughout lunch and all the way back to her apartment.

That was until the moment her apartment door clicked shut, and as if treating her secret as a reward for him to receive for not bringing it up all day, Natsu asked, "are you going to tell me who you like now?"

Lucy crossed her arms and let out a huff. He sounded like a damn high schooler, pestering her over some stupid crush, unable or unwilling to let it go. She didn’t even know why he cared so much, but she was certain that she cared more about keeping her secret than he did about knowing it, so instead of responding, she just shot him back a deeply unimpressed look.

Her lack of response did not deter Natsu, who, in the time between first bugging her about it and now, had come up with a new strategy.

"Is it Gray?" He asked, narrowing his eyes. "‘Cause he’s not good enough for you. You could do better than him."

"It’s not Gray," she dryly replied.

"Laxus?" He probed.

"No."

"Elfman? Gajeel?"

"No."

"Is it Bixlow?"

Realising he wasn’t going to stop any time soon, Lucy just gave him a blank stare, but he remained undeterred. He continued to list people until she was certain that he had named every single man in the guild, no matter how appropriate.

"Are you done?" She asked, fingertips pressing into her temples, thoroughly over whatever little game Natsu was playing.

The only solace she got from this situation was Happy’s silence. He had been quiet from the moment Natsu started nagging her—almost suspiciously so. Any other time, the cat might have jumped at the chance to annoy her until smoke was pouring out of her ears, but he hadn’t said a word. Supposing she shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth, Lucy was willing to take whatever small victories she could get in the wake of Natsu’s inability to just leave her alone.

"Was it any of those guys?" He asked.

"No."

"So he’s not part of the guild?"

Lucy stayed silent at his question. If Natsu was going to run around in circles, she would let him, but she wasn’t about to lie to his face. She was simply ready to wait until he would tire himself out and get bored of her lacklustre answers, but it seemed he didn’t have plans to stop any time soon.

"Is he from another guild? Sabretooth? Is it Sting? Rouge?"

With a groan, Lucy flopped down onto her bed, which Natsu seemed to take as a no.

"It’s not Jellal, is it?"

"No, I’m not interested in being shanked by Erza," she replied in earnest.

"Yeah, that’s probably for the best," he mused.

After a moment of quiet contemplation, Natsu spoke up again.

"Was it that guy from the library?"

"Why?" Lucy finally responded, thoroughly sick of this game.

"Why what?"

"Why do you want to know?" She asked, irritation seeping into her voice.

"‘Cause I’m your friend, and friends tell each other stuff like this," he justified.

Lucy scoffed at his almost humorous answer.

Yes, of course they were friends—they were best friends, but this, whatever it was, was not something they did. They didn’t talk about crushes or romance because Natsu never showed any interest in it until now.

But even if she wanted to, she couldn’t, because telling Natsu that every time she read a romance novel, she imagined the love interest as him, would completely and irrevocably ruin their relationship. Lucy liked what they had too much to change that, no matter how much her heart ached knowing that what she wanted with him was always just a little far out of her grasp.

"I’m not to tell you, okay?" She huffed.

"Why not?" Natsu hit back, seemingly growing frustrated at this trivial impasse that they had found themselves at.

"Because I don’t want to."

"But I’m your friend."

"I know you’re my friend, but I don’t-" Lucy paused to let her mind catch up with her mouth before she said something she might regret.

She didn’t want to argue with Natsu. She knew that he didn’t want to argue with her either, but it just seemed like this was something that they wouldn’t be able to compromise on.

"Look," she sighed. "I’m not going to tell you, so you can either make peace with that or you can leave."

Her remark was met with an almost astonished silence. Perhaps he hadn’t expected her to put her foot down like that. Maybe he had just assumed that she would eventually cave to his pleas. Whatever it was that was going through his head, Lucy couldn’t exactly see it on his face, so they simply sat in silence as she awaited his reply.

It didn’t come the way she had hoped.

Instead, he turned on his heel and headed for the door.

"Come on, Happy."

All Lucy could do was stare and gape as he left without another word, Happy shooting her an apologetic look before following his friend out the door.

She knew she had given him an ultimatum, but she didn’t think that was the option he was going to choose. It all felt so childish to her, leaving over a silly little crush. That had always been her fear, but she had never thought it would happen before she got the nerve to tell him.

It had her heart aching in her chest and tears pricking in the corner of her eyes, and all she could do was let her pillow soak up her sorrows.

The silence on the way home from Lucy’s apartment was uncomfortable. Happy could practically hear the way that Natsu seethed and sulked as they walked the ever-familiar path back to the cottage in the woods. Happy never really minded the silence between them, but this time was different. This time, Natsu was hurting, and Happy didn’t have the words to make it better.

"I don’t get it," Natsu said, finally breaking the silence. "Why won’t she tell me? Is it someone we don’t know? I named everyone."

Perhaps the worst part of this was watching this all fly over Natsu’s head.

There’d always been an inkling in the back of Happy’s mind about the way Lucy felt. He’d always wondered if Lucy saw Natsu as a little bit more than a friend, but over time he had simply put that down to Lucy being weird. Now, though, after Natsu’s interrogation and Lucy’s little scene, the pieces were beginning to fall into place.

Happy knew better than anyone that Natsu was not dumb. A little dense, maybe, sure, but never stupid, so the fact that he couldn’t see what was happening right in front of him had Happy scratching his head.

"Well, you didn’t name everyone," he curtly replied.

Natsu was quiet again for a moment, contemplative, before he spoke up again.

"You think it’s Alzack?" He asked, evident confusion tainting his voice, so genuine that Happy wanted to throttle him right then and there. "‘Cause I don’t think Lucy would stoop that low."

"I don’t think it’s Alzack," Happy shot back, trying to keep a straight face.

For as much prank potential as there was in spilling Lucy’s blatantly obvious secret, it also had the potential of her never speaking to either of them again out of sheer anger and mortification. So in the name of maintaining their friendship, Happy kept his mouth shut.

"Who do you think it is?" Natsu said, glancing in Happy’s direction.

Happy looked at him for a moment before responding. There was genuine intrigue in his friends’ eyes, perhaps a hint of desperation. Happy had to break their eye contact and look forward to the path before them before guilt started to eat him whole.

"I don’t know," he lied, earning a defeated sigh from Natsu beside him.

It certainly didn’t feel good lying to his best friend like that, but even Happy knew it wasn’t his place to meddle in their relationship. At best, it was disingenuous; at worst, he was wrong and getting his hopes up for nothing. He simply had to have faith that Natsu would put things together himself. If he was going to continue to sulk the way he was, Happy could only hope that he figured things out quickly.

When Natsu had stormed out of her apartment without a word, Lucy had hoped that he simply needed some time to himself. He could be a temperamental sort of guy, but sometimes all he needed was a little bit of time to blow off some steam before he was back to his usual self.

Unfortunately, this time, it seemed he needed a little more than that.

It had been a week.

A whole week since she had seen Natsu, much less spoken to him. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that he had been deliberately avoiding her, and that fact was beginning to piss her off.

The last thing Lucy had wanted was for her feelings for Natsu to cause a rift in their relationship, but it seemed as though she had no choice in the matter. Either she told him and things would grow weird between them, or she kept her secret and he would continue to resent her.

Damned if she did, damned if she didn’t.

In the week since he had walked out on her, Lucy had done a lot of thinking between all the tears.

Would it really be that bad if he knew? Surely their friendship was strong enough to withstand the fallout from it. Though, the longer Natsu avoided her over it, the more uncertain she became.

But maybe he deserved to know. Maybe it wasn’t right to keep a secret so heavily involving him. Maybe he would understand, and if they just talked about it, they would come to an understanding and maintain the easy friendship they had.

Maybe she should have thought more about what exactly it was that she wanted to say to him before she had come all the way out to his little cottage in the woods.

She hadn’t really thought about why she was coming out here or what she wanted to say. There was an equal chance that she was going to chew him out or that she was going to burst into tears the moment she saw him. She was so angry at him for letting this get in the way of their friendship, but more than that, she missed him. She missed hearing his laughter from across the guild hall, she missed taking jobs with him. She missed his teasing, his warmth, his comfort. She missed the way he’d crawl into her sheets at night and pretend to be asleep, so she couldn’t kick him out, not knowing that these days she’d never make him leave. Just thinking about it was enough to make the tears almost breach, but as she bit down on her lip, she maintained her composure and rapped her fist against the front door.

Every semblance of composure left her once the door opened and she caught a glimpse of Natsu on the other side, looking at her like a deer in headlights, as if her mere presence had struck the fear of god into his heart.

In that moment, she was overwhelmed with so many emotions—relief, joy, sadness, absolute seething fury.

It seemed that last one was the one that took over when Lucy finally opened her mouth.

"What the hell is wrong with you!"

Part of her was expecting Natsu to slam the door in her face, but all he could do was stand there and gape as she yelled at him.

"You are so stupid! You storm out on me, and then you not only don’t speak to me, but you don’t even show your face at the guild? You dumb, stupid idiot!"

Her expression didn’t match her harsh words as her lip began to quiver, all the emotions of the past week coming crashing down on her as she spoke.

"You idiot, you don’t know—hic—you don’t even know how lonely I’ve been…"

With that, the dam burst, and she was in full tears, sobbing and wailing. She tried to step towards him but stumbled slightly, with Natsu catching her before she could fall. Feeling his touch once more only served to make her cry harder as she recalled how much she had missed it in their time apart.

With no words to make her feel better, Natsu simply wrapped his arms around her, holding her close as she cried.

"Please don’t cry…" He mumbled, resting his forehead on the crown of her head.

"I don’t understand!" Lucy wailed. "Why does- Why does who I like matter so much that you’re willing to hurt me over it?"

Natsu’s jaw clenched, and she could feel his grip on her tighten, as though her words had caused him physical pain.

"I don’t- That’s not what I-" He barely managed to stutter out, clearly struggling to find the words. "Lucy…"

Though her grief-stricken wails had subsided, Lucy continued to sob, gasping for breath between them as Natsu struggled for an answer. When the words didn’t seem to come to him, there was only one thing he could think to say.

"I’m sorry…"

Lucy could hear the remorse dripping from every syllable. Natsu rarely apologised, even rarer did he mean it. This time, he did.

He wasn’t apologising because he was made to; he wasn’t apologising because he felt he had to. He was genuinely remorseful for making her feel this way.

"I still don’t understand," Lucy murmured. "Why? I mean- I don’t- It’s so stupid…" She paused to suck in a breath and gather her thoughts. "You completely avoid me because I won’t tell you who I like? Why do you care so much?"

"I- I just-"

Natsu sputtered out the words, clearly unable to form a coherent answer to the question, almost as if he didn’t know himself.

Lucy looked up at him with glassy, pleading eyes. For the first time since she had shown up, she got a good look at him, too blinded by anger and tears to have caught a glimpse prior. He looked so terribly lost and guilty, his brain seemingly barely able to comprehend the speed in which this had all happened. She couldn’t quite find it in herself to blame him.

She had shown up out of the blue, chewed him out before bursting into tears in his arms. It certainly was not her finest moment, but keeping up appearances was the last thing on her mind. Natsu was her friend—her best friend. Not having him by her side was like some cruel, twisted torture, a reminder of days long past that she had hoped she would never have to relive. She never wanted to not be with him if she could at all help it, and if weeping in his arms was the best way to get that across, then so be it.

"I don’t want you to like some… stupid guy who’s gonna hurt you because he doesn’t think you’re pretty," he said, cobbling his words together with uncertainty as he spoke.

"You’re already hurting me!" Lucy blurted out, not taking a moment to think about what she was saying.

She hardly even registered what she had said until he was looking down at her in some gut-wrenching combination of horror and confusion. It was like her words hadn’t quite set in, but he got the gist of where she was coming from. It was like he knew how she felt but wasn’t sure how to feel about it himself, and the idea of that made her swallow thickly to push down the bile that threatened to rise.

He looked at her slack-jawed before he managed to sputter out, "me?"

With no backing out of this one, Lucy decided the only way she was getting out was through.

"Yes, you, stupid! Are you blind?"

Her insulting words didn’t seem to hit him as he simply stood, lost in his own thoughts for a moment before he finally spoke up again.

"Why didn’t you tell me?"

"Because… I like the way things are between us," she breathed. "I don’t want to change that because I like you. It would just… make things weird, and I don’t want to lose what we have."

Natsu furrowed his brows slightly.

"Why would it be weird?" He asked, his voice low and soft, but she wasn’t certain he meant it to be. "I don’t think that’s weird."

"It is! It’s always weird when someone likes someone else, but they don’t feel the same, and it’s just-"

"Who said I didn’t like you?" Natsu interrupted.

"I-"

Lucy stuttered around an answer, not truly knowing what to say. No one had said that. She’d simply assumed that there was no possible way that her feelings would be reciprocated because it was Natsu. Natsu, who had never shown romantic interest in anyone, let alone her. It was just an informed assumption based on years of friendship that she thought was just that—friendship. She had never considered the idea that he might feel the same way, and now it felt like everything she knew about him had been flipped on its head.

"I just didn’t think that you-"

Her breath hitched in the middle of her sentence as her mind began to race with the possibility of being loved back.

"Why’d you never ask me?"

Because I didn’t want you to reject me. Because I couldn’t handle seeing your face as you tried to let me down easy. Because I knew that if I did, things would never be the same between us again.

There were so many answers to his question running through her head that she just couldn’t seem to figure out which one she wanted to hear.

"Because I wasn’t sure I was ready for the answer."

Natsu was quiet for a moment in response, and Lucy felt her heart sink to her stomach. He still hadn’t given her a real answer. For all she knew, she was simply getting her hopes up only to watch her friendship with Natsu come crumbling down.

In a small, dwindling moment of courage, Lucy squeaked out a soft, "do you?"

"Yeah," he breathed. "I do."

His words were a little shaky, but he said them with such conviction that Lucy couldn't do anything but believe them.

"And for the record, I think you're really pretty."

Those were the words that she had been waiting for him to say for all too long. She had dreamed of hearing it from him for longer than she could recall.

Suddenly, everything started to fall into place.

"Is that… Is that why you’ve been avoiding me all week?" She asked. "Because you were jealous?"

Well, it sounds bad when you put it that way…" He murmured.

"It sounds bad no matter what way you put it!" Lucy exclaimed.

So much of the pain and despair she had been feeling could have been foregone if he had just told her how he felt. She had never felt such joy and such frustration at the very same time, because, god, he felt the same way about her, but he had put her through such heartache over a little secret that it made her want to scream.

"I don’t know if I should be mad or if I should kiss you senseless."

She knew she couldn’t be mad, even if she tried. He was protecting his heart the same way she was protecting hers—she could never hold that against him. She’d be a hypocrite to pretend she was any better.

"Can you do the second one?" Natsu asked, drawing her back into the moment and away from her thoughts—and who was she to deny him?

With no reply, Lucy placed her hands on his shoulders and pressed her lips against his, sending them stumbling back into his home. He caught her by the hips, hands gripping tight, and Lucy hoped that he wouldn’t be letting go any time soon.

[thebestusernamepossible]

Thoughts combining two of three of my biggest interests rn

Isat x Gravity falls (note I’m role swapping, but if the roles had romance between them please note that it’s platonic now. Like the people in the Isa and Sif roles aren’t being shipped. Likewise, if I put someone in the gravity falls roles and they are being shipped I don’t ship those GF characters necessarily.)

Anyway, GF characters in isat roles

Siffrin -> Mabel. Her whole thing is that she doesn’t want to lose the people she loves and she tries to hold onto them, accidentally causing the apocalypse. Sounds VERY similar to Sif’s whole deal tbh. Mabel is also someone who acts as the ‘funny jokes person’ in her group, similarly to Siffrin, and controversy i’d say it’s a bit of a protective layer for both of them. Also the way Siffrin’s loops works and how he almost seems to crave them near the end and how Mabel was in the bubble can be parallels. Do you see the vision???

Odile-> Dipper. OK HEAR ME OUT!!! I know you’re going ‘no Ford would be Odile!!!’ WRONG! First of all, no Dipper is scrappy in a way Odile is and Ford isn’t (Ford is badass and kinda unhinged but he’s not ‘scrappy’ even when going insane). Also Dipper is generally more pessimistic and less gullible than Ford. Dipper and Odile are both people with a thirst for knowledge who don’t like not knowing things. Both these characters have a clear ambition, but are similarly grounded in how much they CARE. Also Ford could never pull off the sus quest, but I think Dipper could 100%. Also also Dipper and Odile are doing the same type of shenanigans to me (-awkward teen boy things).

Isabeau-> Stan. Hmmmmmmmmm…. Changing everything about yourself until the old you is dead because you hate yourself? Being too much of a coward to communicate with the people you love despite them meaning everything to you? Refusing to acknowledge how smart you are and acting dumb (well ok this one is a stretch because Stan actually thinks he’s stupid, but he TAUGHT HIMSLEF TO REBUILD THE PORTAL???? FORD needed BILLS help for that! Ofc Stan had some of Fords notes, but like…. He taught himslef complex physics to PUNCH A HOLE IN REALITY. I think it applies.)? Yeah Isa and Stan are weirdly good parallels.

Mirabelle-> Ford. I’m mostly relating him to Mira becaus Sif the way he felt like he was solely responsible for killing Bill weighed on him. This isn’t the most 1-1, but Mira is someone who is different from her peers. She follows a belief of change while being the most aroace autistic invidual ever who wants to stay the same execpt she gets to be a scholar and learn everything. OK FORD. Also I think if the Change God pulled a Bill Cipher on her she would also become a Sci-Fi hero and go try to fucking kill it, Ty <3

Bonnie-> Pacifica? Sorry the pines family is four members and none of them except maybe Mabel fit into the Bonnie slot, and Maybel is better as Sif to me. They could theoretically be Soos or Wendy who sometimes get added but none of them give Bonnue vibes and also if you have one you need the other.

Loop-> I so BADLY want to say Dippy Fresh…. so I will. Loop is Dippy fresh, fuck you. (Created from a wish of an alternate Mabel wishing that somewhere she had company while going isane? For a Dipper that understood the Loops? Idk.) OR MAYBE!!!! Anti-Mabel????? Alternatively she’s ‘Shooting Star’ (Mabel in a loop situation)

King-> Bill. Do I need to explain this? Pathetic horrible guys who have sympathetic backstories but are sopping wet assholes

Change-> axolotl

Euphie- J the Unswerving (Oracle)

[baurbiediv]

Jack and reader separating for a little bit bc of his immaturity but get back together after like 6 months

black!reader

content warning: use of the n word, i warned you!

“i don’t think you understand how crazy you’re treating me right now. seriously, you got me out here looking like i’m some stupid girl. you’re telling me you’re out at the studio and you’re out clubbing with some trick and you want me to take you seriously?” you complained, poorly attempting to readjust your black silk nightgown. everything you were telling him went through one ear and out the other, the only thing he could truly focus on was the way you were yelling at him.

of course you took notice of this and you rolled your eyes, you snapped your manicured nails in front of his face, “are you even listening to anything i’m telling you right now?” you pressed him, although you already knew the answer to that. “look y/n, i’m sorry-“, were the only words to come from his mouth before you abruptly slammed the door in his face and locking the door.

“i don’t have time for this.”

the sound of your obnoxious text notifications had gone off continuously which caused your eyes to quickly open and locate where the phone was. you looked down at the floor below you to see your phone face down, picking it up you see none other than the last person that you wanted to message you:

jackman 🔐🩵

‘come on y/n answer the phone’

‘you playing right now’

‘can you please talk to me?’

‘i know i fucked up, but please?’

you let out a dramatic groan as you shut your phone off and laying back down. the phone went off yet again, this time you wanted to scream, once more you flipped over the phone to see who could’ve possibly been calling you, a sigh escaped your lips as you saw your best friends contact, semira, on the screen. you pressed the green accept button as her face popped up into the screen. “i am so glad to see your face.” you told her as you watched her eyebrow raised, “something’s off, what happened?” her voice stern as she examined you through the camera. you’d explained to her about what happened the previous night, to which she replied “niggas ain’t shit.”

you sighed, “but mira-“

she stopped you there before you could get another word out, “no y/n, this isn’t the first time this has happened and it won’t be the last, i keep telling you stop going back to his goofy ass but you don’t listen to me though. right?”

to be fair, she really was right. it wasn’t the first and it wasn’t the last either. the first time he bought you a birkin bag you’d had your eyes on and the second time he bought you a chanel necklace to make up for it. sure you liked the gifts but you were tired of the same old same old.

“i know but this time i really am serious.”

you tried to cut off contact with him, you really did but it was really working for you and semira had been really proud of you. until she wasn’t. you found yourself easily convinced that he was adjusting to his lifestyle and he wanted you right beside him. and so here you were laid up under him at the all white july 4th celebration.

“you know i love you right?” jack said, his arm resting lazily on your hip as the both you sat down on one of the many couches. his lips pressing wet kisses into your neck, your back turned to him as laid up against him. your eyes closed as you muttered a small “mhmm..”