#not to mention all my pens and other stationary ???

[aroacesigma]

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[lovelybucky1]

Dirty Money- Tommy Shelby x Reader

masterlist

warnings: very mild dub-con, guns, canon-typical violence, dom/sub dynamics, humiliation, degradation, clothed sex, office sex, semi-public sex, name-calling, unprotected sex, mentions of prostitution, rough sex

The chatter from the party room (if this occasion could even be called a party) lessened as you made your way down the halls of the Shelby house. The Peaky Blinders were having a celebration- another shady business practice gone in their favor, earning them a large sum of money. You are just a pretty face to the Blinders. You get in close with the arrogant, sleazy men who the Shelbys often have dealings with, get information, and maybe pickpocket occasionally, but that is the extent of your duties.

Your position means you don’t get any of the money they earn from deals; all they provide you is free drinks at the Garrison. The Blinders are just a stepping stone along your path. You knew they had money, and if you could get an in with them, then you could have access to some of that money. And really, who would notice if a small fraction of that money was taken?

Your dress flows at your feet as you creep down the hallway towards the boss’ study. When you reach the door, you press your ear to hear any voices; when you deem it safe, you twist the handle and push it open.

Thanking God the hinges don’t squeak, you shut it behind you and take in your surroundings. The room is dark, the light filtering through the windows from the street is barely enough to see by. You approach the solid oak desk that likely took the whole family to move into the office. Atop the desk are a few letters, a pen, a set of lamps, and a figurine of a horse. The rest of the office is similar; sparse with decoration, but bits of Thomas’ personality shine through.

You don’t know much about your boss, despite interacting with him frequently. You’ve been his date on various occasions, all with ulterior motives, of course. Even when he is acting vulnerable, you know it’s a farce. Everyone knows Tommy Shelby is all about business, and he never takes a day off.

You walk around to the other side of the desk and pull at the top drawer. Inside, only stationary, so you close it and try the second drawer, which is locked. You take a pin from your hair and bend it before inserting it into the keyhole. It’s been a while since you’ve picked a lock, but you eventually get it open without too much difficulty. When you open the drawer, you find two stacks of money sitting next to a gun and a pack of smokes.

You pick up one of the stacks and flip through it. Two stacks, each one thousand pounds. You’d be set for life with this amount of money. You could get out of this shit, smog-filled city, buy yourself a nice house in the countryside, a car. You could have everything you’ve ever wanted and more, and it was all in your hands at this very moment.

You were jolted from your fantasy about your future life by the lamp near the door clicking on. You whip around, money still in hand, to face the door. Illuminated by the golden light stood your personal grim reaper, the very man you were stealing from.

Tommy has his hands on his hips, eyebrow raised, and his weight leaned onto one leg. His stance screams what the fuck do you think you’re doing? Your stomach drops when you meet his piercing blue eyes, and a wave of fear washes over you. Tommy stares at you until the weight of his gaze makes you tremble, and only then does he speak.

“I’ve had many people try to get close to me for their own gain,” Tommy pauses just to make you sweat. “But none of them have ever been stupid enough to steal from me in my own home.”

“It’s not what it looks like,” you say as if there weren’t stacks of money in your hand.

Your voice cracks when you speak and you’d curse yourself for your lack of composure, but it’s hard to remain calm when you’ve just gotten on the bad side of a man who wouldn’t hesitate to kill you.

“No?” Tommy asks. “That’s a good thing then, because if you were stealin’ my money, then we’d have some problems.” Tommy stalks forward toward you, eyes never leaving yours as he crosses the room. He takes the money from your pliant fingers; you have enough sense of self-preservation to not put up a fight right now. He places the money back in the drawer and when you look down, you see his fingertips brush against the gun- a reminder. When you look back up, his face is inches from yours and he is looking down the bride of his nose at you like you’re nothing but a pathetic animal. “So why don’t you tell me what you’re doin’ in here, eh?”

You inhale shakily as you try to come up with a convincing lie. You figure that he will see through any of the bullshit you say, but it’s better than admitting your crime. “I lost my ring and I thought I might have left it in here.”

“You might have lost your ring… in my locked drawer?” He asks, tone suggesting he is simply humoring you.

“If you found it and thought it was valuable, I thought you would put it in a safe place,” you explain, trying your best to look innocent.

“I see,” Tommy says, putting his hand on the desk next to your hip and leaning on it. “Now, if you’re done lying, I’d like to hear the truth.”

You swallow thickly as you resign yourself to the fact that you were caught. “I was taking money from your desk.”

“I’m not fuckin’ blind, am I? What’s the money for?” Tommy asks, voice even and steady, though you know he must be simmering with anger.

“For me.”

“Two thousand pounds, all for you? You have no affiliations?” you shake your head. “You’re not working for anyone?”

“No, sir. I wanted all of this for myself,” you confess.

“Hm,” he considers your words. “I’m surprised you were able to put together this little plan, so I doubt you’d be able to pull off bein’ a double agent all this time.” The way he talks down to you makes you want to hide your face in shame, but in the position he has you in, you have nowhere to go. “What were you going to do with all this money?”

“Move out of the city. Find a place for myself. Start a new life. A good life,” you say. Your tone must have been sincere enough for Tommy to believe you because he seems to relax a little.

Tommy shifts on his feet and he looks distantly over your shoulder as if he is lost in thought. You stare at his face, waiting for the other shoe to drop. You wouldn’t be surprised if he killed you, he’s killed others for much less.

“So,” he starts, “You’re not working for anyone else, but you’re still a thief and a traitor.” His intense gaze is back on you and your skin crawls with anxiety. “I don’t think I have to remind you what we do to thieves and traitors.”

You shake your head, knowing full well the fate that all who have wronged the Blinders have met. They’re not deserving of a quick death; they beg until they are too swollen to beg, they pray until God has been beaten out of them, they break until there is nothing left whole, they bleed until they’re dry. A traitor to the family suffers. They’re a spectacle to keep all others in line.

“But that would be such a waste of a pretty face,” Tommy says, the unexpected compliment makes your heart stutter in your chest. “You always did do good work for me. The races, the parties I went to with you on my arm. Sometimes I wished they were for leisure rather than business.”

You furrow your brow slightly at the admission. “What do you mean, Mr. Shelby?”

“I quite fancied you,” he says with a slight smile. “But then I caught you in my study with my money, and I came to my senses.”

He stands up straight and reaches into the drawer, taking out the gun. You take a step back, frightened once again. He doesn’t point the gun at you, only holds it, but you are still no less threatened.

With a sigh, he speaks again. “I don’t trust you not to bring down the rest of us if I turn you in to the coppers. So because I held such a soft spot for you, I’ll let you pick. I could cut your hand off to make sure you won’t steal again, I can send you far away without a single penny to your name, or I could give you over to the Italians as a peace offering.”

Your stomach drops when he lists off your options. For some reason, you thought he was going to let you get away. But seemingly despite his soft spot, business comes first, as usual.

“Please, Mr. Shelby, there has to be something else,” you say, voice watery with held-back emotion.

“What kind of businessman would I be if I let my employees steal from me?” He asks eyebrow raised mockingly.

Feeling desperation cloud your mind, you take a step forward, despite the gun. You reach out and place your hand on his shoulder, the rough material of his suit jacket rubbing against your skin. He looks down at you, his face a mixture of shock and amusement.

“I will do anything, sir,” you say, voice vulnerable and weak, hoping that will appeal to his baser urges. You know it’s a bold and risky move, but you don’t have many other options.

A laugh escapes Tommy’s throat, a rare and usually pleasant sound when it’s not being directed at you. “Are you looking to add prostitution to your list of crimes?” he chuckles.

“No, sir. I am not a whore.”

“You’re offering yourself up to me like one,” he smirks. “Why don’t we make a deal, then?”

“What are the terms?” you ask, trying to add strength to your voice that you’ve lacked since you saw him in the doorway.

“You let me fuck you like the whore you claim not to be, and you get to keep your job with us,” he says casually like he’s talking about the weather.

“That’s it?”

“Well now, don’t sound so ungrateful. If you’d prefer, I could give you away to those animals out here,” he gestures towards the door. “I’m giving you a chance to keep that pretty smile of yours.”

“No, no,” you shake your head. “I am grateful, sir. Thank you.”

Tommy puts the gun down on the top of his desk and closes the space between you. His hard chest presses against yours as he brings his hand up to gently stroke your cheek.

“Greedy little thing,” he says, his eyes drinking in the sight of you. Your lips are parted just so, looking soft and pliant, just the way he loves. Tommy’s hand trails from your face down to your throat, where he plays with the simple goal pendant that rests against your skin.

Tommy leans in and brushes his lips to yours, making your heart stutter and your breath catch in your throat. You can feel a slight smile on his lips before he presses them together in a claiming kiss. He smothers you, stealing the breath from your lungs.

When you part, his lips are pink and glistening with a mix of your saliva. His light eyes are blown with lust and you feel small in his arms.

“Are you clean or am I going to have to fuck your mouth?” he asks, the dirty words a sharp contrast to his gentle hands on you.

“I’m clean,” you say, voice no more than a whisper.

The only response you get from him is a shark-like grin. He grabs your hips and pulls you flush to him. Even through the layers of your dress, you can feel the hardness in his pants.

It’s almost hard to believe that right now, Thomas Shelby is hard for you. You’ve imagined this countless times; when you were his arm candy, when he’d drink with you at the pub, and even sometimes in your own home. You never thought you’d actually get to have him in such a way, especially not when it wasn’t for business.

“What are you waiting for, dear?” he asks, looking into your eyes and then down at his trousers.

You lean back, putting enough space between the two of you to undo his belt and unbutton his pants. You take out his cock and give it a few dry strokes. The size makes you nervous; you’re no virgin, but you’ve been so caught up with work that you haven’t been seeing anyone.

Tommy shrugs off his jacket and tosses it haphazardly onto his desk chair, clearly unconcerned that he is wrinkling a very expensive suit. Taking his undressing as a hint, you ask “Should I take off my dress?”

“It’s not our fucking wedding night,” he huffs. He grabs your waist and pushes you towards the desk, You brace your hands on the surface and look back at him while he hikes up the skirt of your dress. He piles the bunched-up fabric on your lower back and bends down to admire the view. “Though these knickers suggest otherwise,” he chuckles, slipping his finger under them.

It’s humiliating to be bent over your boss’ desk while he looks at you like you’re a piece of meat, As much as you wish you were more upstanding, that this whole situation repulsed you, the burn in your abdomen is undeniable. You’re getting off on whoring yourself out to your boss.

Tommy grabs the waist of your knickers and pulls them down, letting the white satin pool at your feet. Now bare to him, Tommy inhales deeply, taking in the scent of your arousal. He swipes his thumb through your folds, gathering your wetness and smearing it on your thigh.

“Mr. Shelby, please,” you whimper.

“What’s the matter? You don’t like me teasing?” he chuckles.

He rubs his hand over your pussy, his cold fingertips burning from the heat of you. You wiggle your hips a bit, silently begging him for more, and in return, he gives a sharp slap to your cunt.

“You forget this is a punishment. I could leave you here desperately and wet for hours and there’s nothin’ you can do ‘bout it.”

You let your head hang between your shoulders with a sigh. You don’t doubt his threat; Tommy can be a cruel man and you wouldn’t put it past him to torture you in such a way. No matter what, though, this is better than the alternative.

You feel a long, thin finger prodding at your entrance and you force yourself to relax. Tommy slowly pushes his middle finger into you, and from behind you, a quiet groan can be heard. He pulls his finger out only to quickly replace it, along with a second digit. The fingers inside of you slowly work back and forth to loosen you. Despite Tommy’s rough exterior and degrading words, when it comes to the act, he’s more caring than you anticipated.

The slow drag of his fingers makes you dizzy, desperate for more to fill you as you open up. Seemingly have read your mind, Tommy pulls out his fingers and places his wet hand on your ass.

For a long moment, nothing happens. Tommy stands behind you, both hands on you, but unmoving. You look back to see him watching you expectantly.

“Do you think I’m just going to give it to you?” he asks. You furrow your brow, not understanding what he’s getting at. “Clearly you’ve never been properly fucked,” he huffs. “Beg me for it.”

Of course, how could you be so stupid? A man like Tommy Shelby loves power and control. He wants to own everything and everyone, especially his conquests. You’ve already submitted yourself to him, but he wants you to relinquish the rest of your pride for him.

“Please, sir, I want it,” you try, the idea of begging for sex unfamiliar to you.

“Surely you could do better than that, eh? I’ve heard the things you’ve told our associates. I know your mouth is dirtier than your pretty white knickers let on.” The smirk is evident in his voice and it makes you burn with shame. The things you tell whatever man you were ordered to seduce were all acting. You separated yourself from it, from them, but now you were doing to be deep in it.

“Please fuck me like the whore I am, Mr. Shelby. I’m yours to do whatever you want with. I want you to forgive me.”

The words feel foreign on your tongue and Tommy seems to recognize that. The grin on his face tells you the begging was more for your embarrassment than his enjoyment.

“That’s better, my little whore,” he says as he grabs ahold of his cock and rubs it through your folds. He pushes in slowly but steadily, easing you into it but not hiding his desire until the head is inside. Like a gentleman, he lets you accommodate the stretch before seating himself fully inside of you.

You lay atop the desk limp and pliant, like you’re a toy for Tommy. He grabs your hips tightly, possessively, before he starts to rock his hips against you. The friction of your ass against his hips doesn’t do too much to satisfy your sexual need, but the feeling of his skin makes you burn from within.

“When you first joined,” Tommy speaks up, “I had to make a rule. Don’t fuck the other members. Never had that problem before, but I knew the boys would tear you apart the second they got the chance.”

Tommy’s fingers press into your skin as he begins to slowly thrust into you. As he did with his fingers, he makes the drag of his cock slow, ensuring you feel every inch of his length. Your pussy gripped him like your body knew you were made for him.

You let out a small, involuntary hum when he reaches the spot inside of you that makes your toes curl. You had fantasized that Tommy would be a good lover, but you never imagined that he’d light all of your nerves on fire.

“Fuck, Tommy,” you moan as his steady pace builds up the pressure in your abdomen.

“It’s Tommy now, eh? Where’d those manners go?”

“I’m sorry! Fuck, I’m sorry, Mr. Shelby.”

You’re certain Tommy is going to kill you, despite your deal after you disrespected him. Maybe he’d be merciful since you let him have you… or maybe that would make torturing you even better.

“Say it again,” he says, voice gruff with lust.

“What?”

“My name. Say it again.”

“Tommy,” you whisper, hesitant.

His blunt nails dig into your skin, leaving crescent-shaped indents behind. The speed of his hips increases slightly, but he doesn’t slam into you like some previous partners have. He seems to understand your body; to be rough in some ways but caring in others.

“If I punished every thief like this, I’d have far fewer enemies,” he muses as he slides his right hand up your back, then rests it on the base of your neck. “But you’re lucky.”

The hand on the back of your neck moves to the side of your head, where Tommy presses down. There’s not much force behind it, but your head is pinned to the desk. It’s degrading to have him hold you down, preventing you from seeing what’s to come. His fingers twist in your hair and his trusts become increasingly irregular.

“Tommy,” you whine.

“This cunt’s divine,” he says, and for the first time, his voice has an edge of desperation to it.

“Tommy,” you say again.

“What?” he breathes.

“Fuck me.”

With an airy chuckle, Tommy pulls you closer to him by the hips so you can meet each of his thrusts. Your body jolts each time his thighs slap against yours, completely at his mercy while he fucks into you. You feel him shift behind you and suddenly there is a weight resting on your back. Tommy is leaning over you, holding you impossibly close with his mouth next to your ear.

“You’re my fuckin’ whore,” he says, his hot breath and gravelly voice making your skin break out in goosebumps. “You understand me?”

All you can do is nod, but that answer seems to satisfy him because he is standing back up and fucking you sloppily, a stark contrast to his steady pace from earlier. After a handful of strokes, he pulls out and you’re left cold and gaping on the desk, brain lagging to catch up with reality.

You hear a strangled moan from behind you, and then you feel drops of scorching liquid hit your thighs. You squirm on the desk once you realize what has happened. Tommy Shelby has just come on you, effectively claiming you as his own.

He rests his hand on your back as he catches his breath, chest heaving with exertion. He steps back, out from between your legs, and wipes the sweat off of his forehead with his sleeve. You look back at him with lustful, half-lidded eyes and he gives you a soft smile. You push yourself up so you can stand, and when you turn to face Tommy again, he looks confused.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“We’re done, aren’t we?”

Tommy chuckles and steps forward again, picking your skirt back up and pushing the bunched fabric into your hands to hold.

“You poor thing,” he says. “You haven’t gotten yours.”

His words surprise you. You wouldn’t say Tommy is a selfish man; self-interested is a better term. You expected this to be over once he was finished, but it seems that equal satisfaction is of importance to him.

He reaches between your legs and slips two fingers into your cunt, then rests his thumb on your clit. You gasp when he touches your bud, which is extra sensitive from the lack of attention. Tommy’s other arm wraps around your waist to hold you close, his lips brushing against your temple.

“Tommy,” you whimper when he curls his fingers inside you.

“So fuckin’ good for me. Guess all it took was a cock to keep you in line. God knows I would’ve done this ages ago if I knew. Think about all the times I could’ve had this sweet cunt when I settled for some whore,” he says, voice thick and sweet. “But now you’re mine.”

His possessiveness, combined with the perfectly placed touches under your dress, makes your head spin with pleasure. You let your head drop forward to rest on his shoulder and he pushes his face into your hair. You reach up to grab at his vest, needing something to ground yourself, lest you collapse into a puddle of pleasure on the office floor.

“I-I’m close, sir,” you struggle to get out between moans.

“What do good girls say?” he asks.

“Please.”

“Cum for me, dear,” he whispers.

As if he pulled a trigger, your release washed over you. Your muscles tighten and relax as the waves of pleasure rock you. Tommy rides you through it, not giving up his assault on your soaked pussy until you are squirming and pushing his hand away.

You lean back to rest on the desk as you find your breath and let your skirt drop down to the floor, covering up the mix of cum that wets your thighs. You watch as Tommy straightens out his clothes and fastens his belt, feeling slightly disappointed that you didn’t get to see more of him.

He joins you by the desk, reaching into the formerly-locked drawer and taking out the pack of smokes, as well as a matchbook from his pocket. He lights the cigarette and tosses the burnt match into his ashtray. He holds it with the two fingers that were inside of you and takes a drag, exhaling a plume of white smoke that swirls in the air in front of you. Tommy offers the cigarette to you but you decline with a shake of your head, and he doesn’t press.

“Do you smell that?” Tommy asks, breaking the silence. You sniff the air, mainly smelling smoke but there is the underlying musk of sex, as well as the intoxicating scent that Tommy wears. “That’s business,” he says, answering his own question.

“What do you mean?” you ask, turning to face him.

“We had a deal. I fuck you and you get to stay here, all your limbs intact.” You nod slowly, not quite understanding what he’s getting at. “I’d like to offer you a promotion.”

You perk up at that. Not an hour ago you were certain Tommy was going to shoot you where you stood, but now he’s offering you a higher-ranking position within the Blinders.

“I want you to be my personal assistant,” he says, a slight smirk on his lips. “No dirty work, no men. It’s an easy job, making my breakfast and bringin’ me whiskey, sorting my mail, writing my letters. Making appointments for me, keeping track of my calendar, making small talk with incredibly dull people I can’t be bothered with.”

“So I’d be your maid?”

“If maids get the added benefit of fuckin’ their bosses, then yes, you’ll be my maid,” he grins. “And you know what the best part is?” You shake your head. “You don’t get to lay a finger on my money.”

You look away from him, embarrassed. Tommy grabs ahold of your chin and makes you look back at him, his blue eyes boring into you once again.

“You can live in my house, I’ll buy you fancy things or whatever the fuck you wanted to do with two thousand pounds, and the only thing you’ll have to worry about is cleanin’ the blood from my shirts.”

You pretend to think over his offer, but really, there’s no question. This is better than any life you could attempt to start on your own, and you have the added bonus of being in the boss’ favor.

“I accept your offer,” you say with a smile.

“Good. Now let’s get out of here before you find another thing to steal,” he says, placing his hand on your lower back and leading you towards the door.

[as-is-above-so-below]

The Captain - Simon Riley x Sniper!Reader, Wife!Reader

Part 3: Let's Have a Baby

summary: Ghost’s sniper wife (reader) joins Task Force 141 on an op, against his wishes call sign: Freyja warning: MDNI, mentions of canon typical violence and death (ofc), implied child loss Note: The much-awaited part 3 of The Captain! Thank you so much for all of your support! And don't y'all, Part 4 is brewing ;) Enjoy and blessed be! << Previous | Next >>

“Mohawk’s gettin’ particularly long, Johnny boy. When’s the last time you took any off the top?” Freyja asked, tugging at the end of a long strand at the back of his head.

“Dinnae dae that!” Soap whipped his head around and gave her a look of playful irritation. “If it weren’t for that wee barra in your belly I’d knock ya one, lass.”

“You wish, tough guy.”

“Just you wait, soon as y’return to full duty, we’ll have a square go, ye fuckin’ weapon.”

“I’ll block off my calendar.”

She and Soap had grown rather close since they all returned to England following the mission. As promised, Ghost spoke with Price, who convinced Kate to transfer her to the 141 permanently. While she was on desk duty for now, being on the same team would be tremendously helpful in keeping their schedules in sync. The couple could carpool to and from the base together, and John would do his best to keep them from being deployed at the same time.

Plus, she got to spend all her day with her friends and husband, which was a phenomenal change of pace from their previous setup. It was far less lonely being surrounded by the bustle of the busy base and having other friends to talk to besides Price.

They had a standing ‘play date’, as Price called it, every Friday night, where they watched movies, played board games, and ordered takeout. Board games usually ended in a heated exchange between her and whichever unlucky soul had crossed her (usually during Catan), her normally fiery temper heightened with each month of pregnancy that passed. There had been several instances of Ghost scooping her up in his arms and hauling her away to cool off before (any other) objects were lobbed at someone’s head.

One time, Freyja was in rare form when Gaz refused to trade for a material she desperately needed, and whipped a pointed dinner knife in his direction.

“What is with you guys and throwing bloody knives at me?!” he cried, throwing his hands in the air as Ghost dragged her off, screaming obscenities in various angry-sounding languages.

Soap jerked the blade out of the wall. “Dunno if I should be turned on or terrified,” he had said thoughtfully, turning it over in his hand. 

“BOTH, YOU SLIMY, CHEATING MOTHERFUCKERS!”

Catan was banned for a few weeks after that incident, and Freyja gave Kyle the following day off as an apology, though he insisted it wasn’t necessary.

Freyja lowered herself into a chair on the other side of Soap’s desk and leaned her head on her fist, watching him do his paperwork. She’d already finished for the day but was waiting for her husband to fetch her and bring her home to prepare for another Friday with the boys.

“So, Captain, any big plans for this weekend?” Soap asked, still scribbling away at the stack of forms in front of him.

She pursed her lips and shrugged. “Nah. It’s our anniversary on Sunday. Have a routine visit tomorrow to see how the baby’s growing. Nothing crazy.”

“Anniversary?! You didn’t tell me that was comin’ up!”

Her eyes rolled with a chuckle. “Soap, we aren’t showy people. Never have been,” she started, adjusting to sit straighter after having slid down in the chair a bit. Her round belly had started to weigh down her body a few weeks back, and she was starting to feel the effects of back and neck pain. “We weren’t together for very long when we got engaged, if you’d even call it that. We got married a few days later, as soon as we got back to the UK. Didn’t want to waste time, given our line of work.”

Johnny laughed at this, tossing his pen into a mug he fashioned as a stationary holder. “Oh, I’d bet he just loved slappin’ his name after ‘Captain’, too,” he joked with a raised brow.

The image of a spinning circle on a computer came to mind because that was exactly what she was doing. Buffering, her mouth open slightly while she processed his comment. Her mind screamed at her to say something, anything, but nothing came out as she stared at the Sergeant.

He clearly picked up on her inner turmoil, because he asked, “What? What’d I say?”

Goddamn pregnancy brain. “Ah…Nothing. He didn’t like me taking his name, actually,” she mostly muttered, unable to find a way out of the conversation at this point. “He asked me not to change my name and I did it anyway.”

“I don’t get it, why wouldn’t Ghost want ya to change yer name?”

Freyja sighed as she rubbed a hand over the top of her bump, a recent habit for comfort. The baby hadn’t been particularly active that day, only offering a bit of shifting. “You’d have to ask him, John.”

She rarely called him John, so he knew the conversation was over on her part. “How’s your back?” Best to change the subject and move on. 

She was grateful for it. “Terrible. Even sitting here is bothering me.”

Soap lit up and he practically jumped to his feet. “I can do that thing I saw Ghost doin’ last week!” He was already in front of her before she could even answer.

He had been relentless ever since he caught their cute little private moment in the kitchen when she was supposed to be getting herself some fruit to snack on. Simon followed shortly after, offering to get her fruit bowl together for her so she could sit down again. Craving some semblance of independence, she instead offered to cut up her snack while her husband took some of the weight off her back.

“Walked myself right into that one. You just want an excuse to grope my belly.”

“Me? Never! M’offended that y’would say such a thing, Bonnie,” he feigned hurt feelings, pouting with his best puppy dog eyes.

“Alright, fine! Come’ere, I’ll show you,” she laughed, high up in her chest. Freyja pulled herself up with his hands and moved them to the more open space in his office. “Alright, so I’m gonna stand here—“ She turned to press her back against his chest and took his wrist in her hands. “—then you just wanna put your hands flat like this—“ She flattened his palms just under the swell of her stomach, by each point of her pelvis. “—and now you carefully pull up. Emphasis on carefully.”

She groaned at the sudden relief, her head falling back against Soap’s shoulder as he just barely lifted her stomach. 

“There w’are. Steamin’ Jesus, how’s such a wee thing so bloody heavy?”

“Yeah, now imagine carrying that around with your back twenty-four-seven.”

They stood silently for a minute, soaking in the relief from the lack of pressure on her disks. A small hand dragged across the underside of her stomach, pressing against Soap’s hand. His chest rumbled against her back, but he held steady.

“Will anyone be coming for a visit? When she’s born?” It was bold of him to bring up such a sensitive subject, but his curiosity got the better of him.

“No.”

“And you’re alright with that?”

“I have everyone I need right here, Johnny. Who else outside my husband would give my back a break and hold my giant belly?” She reached back to jokingly slap his cheek a few times.

“Where’s that husband o’ yours at? It’s gettin’ late.”

A soft knock on the open door had her turning her head. “I’m comin’, Jesus,” Ghost said, approaching with his hands in his pockets, t-shirt tight as ever. He took in her smiling form, intrigued by the scene in front of him. He smiled beneath his mask, eyes crinkling slightly. “How are my girls?”

Freyja flinched, a hand flying to her belly at the sharp kick. She sported an angry pout. “Ow! That hurt, you little–”

“Be nice. She can’t help that I’m her favorite.”

She pulled out of Soap’s hold, sad to lose the help on one hand, but thrilled to see Simon on the other. “You’re so obnoxious. I’m literally creating her organs and limbs, making sure she has ten fingers and toes, and I don’t get so much as a single hand or kick. But the second she hears your stupid voice, she’s suddenly an MMA fighter,” she complained, shoving at his shoulder. “Un-fucking-believable. I hate you.”

“Mmm, sure you do. How will I ever get back in your good graces?”

“I want Chinese tonight.”

“I think I can manage that.” Ghost bent down to gently, but briefly, touch his forehead to hers, one of their familiar gestures to refrain from more overt displays of affection on base. She would occasionally give him a peck over his skull mask, and they often shared passing touches, but neither partner was a huge fan of PDA. In the comfort of their own home, they were much more obvious, even around the other members of the team. Just not on base (save for a quick romp. Or two. Or– y’know what, never mind).

“Aw, lookit ya wee sook,” Soap cooed, nudging Ghost with his elbow as he walked past, gathering his things to head home.

She giggled and patted Simon’s pec. “He really is!”

Simon grumbled but guided Freyja to the door with a hand on her lower back. “If you lot keep talkin’ nonsense around me, I’ll pop a gasket.”

“It’s not nonsense, Simon. It’s a beautiful language. One that your people just so happened to smother into near extinction,” she sang, pursing her lips in a challenge as she looked up at him walking next to her.

“OOO, sick burn, lass!” Soap smacked their hands together, laughing heartily.

“Fuckin’ hell…”

~*~

Simon checked the time on his phone again with a deep sigh, shaking his head. He detested getting to work anything past ten minutes early, and it was currently five past six. Freyja had told him to go ahead and toss their baby bag in the car, which he had done ten minutes ago. He insisted they keep their ‘go-bag’ (her word, not his) with them, either in the car on errands or on base during the work week.

The area around their front door was littered with broken-down cardboard boxes from various toys and furniture from the nursery. The Task Force had turned out to be extremely generous uncles, to the point where the Rileys hardly had to buy anything. Johnny and Gaz were by far the worst listeners, continuing to purchase mountains of clothes long after Freyja and Ghost begged them to stop. Enough clothes that she would never have to wear the same outfit twice for the first year of her life.

Not even born yet and already spoiled rotten.

Her boots weren’t in the tray by the door, so she must have gotten to that part of her routine, at least. He pushed off the door frame in their entryway, making his way toward the living room. “Frey, what are you doin’? We’re already five minutes late–”

He cut himself off when he laid eyes on the sight in front of him – his wife, now 39 weeks pregnant, attempting to contort her body around her bump to lace up her boots. Simon allowed himself a moment to watch in amusement before clearing his throat and grabbing her attention. “Do you need help?” he asked, about to kneel in front of her.

She grunted and shook her head, then tried to smooth the mussed-up fly-aways that had started to poke up at the edges of her tied-back hair. “No, I can do this. I just did it on Friday.”

“Darling, that was three days ago. There’s no shame in askin’ for help–” He stopped again at the icy glare thrown his way, crossed his arms over his chest, and sat in the armchair across from her. “A’right, if you insist.” He had long noticed that she sometimes struggled to accept help with tasks she could normally complete on her own, if not for a protruding bump being in the way. He knew if she really needed help, she would ask.

This time, she propped the heel of her boot on the coffee table and attempted to stretch over her belly. She was proud of the strength and flexibility she had been able to maintain throughout her entire pregnancy, up until now. Not many people could say they could even see their feet this far into their pregnancy, let alone tie their shoes. After another minute of huffing and puffing, fingers just barely unable to graze the laces, she held her foot out to her watchful husband and sighed. “Fine,” she mumbled, crossed arms mimicking his.

He smiled softly under his mask, blue eyes twinkling with silent laughter as he slid to his knees at her feet, pressing the sole into his chest. “Thank you,” he praised, taking his time to focus on doing her shoes up at the tightness she liked to support her ankles, but allow breathing room at her calves. As he finished up the second foot, he heard a quiet sniffle and jerked his head up to meet her eyes.

Bloody hell, not the waterworks again…

He gently pushed her legs apart and settled between them, his gloved hands covering and rubbing her knees. “What’s wrong, love?”

Freyja wiped her nose with the back of her hand, then used the neckline of her t-shirt to swipe at her wet cheeks. “Nothing, I’m just annoyed. Feels like I can barely function on my own.”

“If I recall, you’re the one who insisted on working until she’s born.”

“Fuck you.”

“Promise?”

She playfully shoved his shoulder, rolling her eyes as she scoffed. 

Ghost pulled his mask up to his nose, just enough to steal a long, soft kiss from her, fingers still gripping her thighs. When they broke apart, he swooped down to press wet kisses on her belly. Freyja put the fabric back in place with deft fingers. “A’right, we sorted?” He smacked her thigh twice when she nodded and offered her hands to help her stand. “Good, you know how I am about bein’ late.”

“Maybe I’ll get lucky and she’ll be an early bird like her daddy.”

“Better than always being late like her mum.”

“Low blow, baby. Low blow.”

They made jabs at each other back and forth the entire ride to base (lovingly, of course) and during their walk to their offices, only pausing for the occasional passerby.

~*~

Kyle handed off a steaming mug of tea to Ghost, taking a small sip of his own as they watched the recruits spar with Soap. Most days, the three of them worked with the privates for a few hours, varying from marksmanship, hand-to-hand combat, etcetera. Ghost tugged his mask up enough to enjoy his caffeine, the steam dampening the wrinkled fabric.

“How was your weekend, Ghost?”

He hid his subtle smirk behind the cup, the memory of their anniversary evening at the forefront of his mind. Ghost met Gaz’s gaze with a side eye, to which the Sergeant snorted with a throaty chuckle. Gaz fixed the brim of his hat lower to shade his eyes from the sun better. “Shouldn’t have asked,” he said, a bright, cheeky grin on his face. “Change the subject.”

Ghost thought back to that morning, snickering himself and cradling the mug with both hands. “Frey couldn’t tie her boots this morning.” He tried to hide his amusement, he really did. But both men burst into deep laughter, Gaz shamefully covering his eyes with his free hand as he imagined the Captain working around her stomach.

“Bloody hell, poor thing.” When they finally composed themselves, Kyle took a deep breath and wiped a stray tear from his eye. He sighed and placed his now empty mug on the ground, his hands now hanging onto the lip of his tactical vest. The Brit observed the training session, occasionally glancing over at Ghost to gauge his mood. Maybe he should mind his business, but Gaz also wanted to be a good friend to the Rileys. In the end, he decided to take the plunge. “I see it, y’know,” he said, choosing a careful tone.

Simon turned his head fully to shoot him a probing look, urging him to continue.

Gaz sighed to himself. In too deep, now. “Just something I’ve noticed. Seems like she’s done this before, s’all.”

Damn Kyle Garrick and his perceptiveness. How long had the Sergeant been sitting on that thought, watching and observing her mannerisms? Simon stood staring blankly at his companion, unblinking for too long. His heart clenched painfully, twisting and beating violently against his ribs. When his eyes did finally come back into focus, he covered his face again. “As you were, Sergeant,” he commanded, his tone stern and unyielding. Neither of them noticed the Scot break away from the recruits, reading a text from his phone.

“I don’t mean to pry, sir–”

“Lt?” Soap held the device up, brows knotted together. He didn’t make much of an effort to hide his emotions and was concerned. “Price needs ya, sir. Said he’s pretty sure yer wife’s been in labor for the last hour.”

The trio quickly appeared in her office, where she sat behind her desk, beads of sweat on her forehead as she typed away at her computer. John shrugged helplessly and then scratched at the stubble under his chin. About an hour into their daily morning meeting, where he brought her peppermint tea while they worked over files and potential recruits. They were mid-discussing her scheduled c-section when he noticed her breaths sporadically shake, or the muscles in her arms tightening for seemingly no reason. Price asked her if she was okay and was brushed off every time he prodded at her; when he finally had enough, he decided to call for reinforcements.

Freyja glared at the men, mainly aiming it at Price. “Traitor,” she growled, continuing to work through another contraction.

Simon tossed the keys to their car to Price, who swiftly snagged them out of the air and slipped behind them. In the meantime, he tucked his mask into the back pocket of his jeans, his slightly overgrown blonde hair and the top of his head sticking up. He sat on the edge of the desk, looking down at her as she attempted to ignore his presence. His foot slipped a little on the floor, and he found a small puddle trickling across the floor from the space under her chair. “Anything you want to tell me?” he asked, impossibly soft and gentle for a usually deep, gruff military man.

“No.” She was an accomplished sniper and a skilled linguist and had been deployed on hundreds of special missions, interrogations, and rescues during her military tenure. She, however, wasn’t very convincing when it came to lying to her husband, especially when another sharp pain rippled through her body, forcing her to flinch.

“Wanna try that again?”

Her eyes watered uncontrollably, her lip trembling as she tried to keep herself together. The notion didn’t last long, and her head shook from side to side.

“How long?”

“Long enough.”

“Hm.” Simon turned her chair with his shin until she faced him. As he suspected, dark wetness was creeping up the fabric of her jeans. “We should get going then, yeah?” He tilted his head to the side, watching as she grabbed his hand in a fierce grip.

“Simon–” The woman choked on her tears, panic starting to claw its way up her stomach and wrenching her tight throat. “The OB’s out of the country,” she whimpered, barely a whisper.

“I know. Seems that she’s taken after her old man, like y’said,” he offered in an attempt to give her some comedic relief in her state. Simon could see the panic attack set in, and while he knew he couldn’t stop it, he could at least lessen its effects some.

“I was kidding.”

He smiled softly at her and squeezed her palm, drawing soothing circles with his thumb. “Don’t think she’s quite old enough for sarcasm, there, sweetheart.” He got down to his knees in front of her, sitting back on his heels, just under eye level now instead of towering over her. A familiar position for them as of late. “Looks like we’re doin’ this the old-fashioned way.”

She started crying hysterically now, nearly crushing his hand and cradling her belly. “Simon…I–”

“I know.”

It was as if their audience had completely disappeared, leaving just the two of them for what should be a private moment. But Soap and Gaz were still pressed to the wall by the door. In the months they had become close friends with Simon’s wife, she was almost always composed, her moments of hormonal rage the only outlier they witnessed. They’d never seen her such a panicked, blubbering mess, but Gaz had an idea he knew what it was about, even without specifics. For that reason, he chose to keep his distance and advised Soap to do the same with a tap to the shoulder.

“This–This isn’t the plan. I wanted…they’re supposed to take her out. I don’t want to push again.”

“I know,” he repeated. “I’m sorry, love, but you’ll have to.”

“Can’t we just–” A gasp cut her off, her features pinching together in pain while she rode out yet another contraction.

“No. We can’t.”

“I can’t do this again, Simon! I can’t!” Her chest heaved and she sobbed, struggling to catch her breath. Panic attacks had become more frequent during her pregnancy. There had been about five or six instances where an odd feeling or uncomfortable pain had anxiety washing over her, sending her into a spiral until they could get to an emergency room or OB, snapping at them to ‘just fucking check, for fuck’s sake’. This was definitely one of the worst. All of her meticulous planning, down to every nitty-gritty detail to ensure she didn’t have an episode went right out the window because a certain impatient Riley was eager to make her exit and simultaneous entrance to the world.

The world was collapsing around her, dark and suffocating. The cold pit dragged her back to what seemed like another life, where she lay curled up in a hospital bed, sick and hot and in the worst agony she would ever experience. Her bones burned and ached, struggling to sit still yet unable to move at the same time. Price’s phantom touch ghosted up and down her bare back in that place, brushed her sticky hair off her forehead, pressed a cold towel to her neck as violent sobs and forced, unnatural contractions tore through her—

She blinked when different, gloved hands slipped under her hair, the warmth of her skin bleeding through the material as he cradled her face. Her fingers slipped down to dig into his tattooed wrist. “You can, and you will. Take a breath,” he took a deep breath, guiding her through the exercise. He held the air in his chest before letting it out in a slow exhale, which she mimicked. Ghost summoned Gaz over and rose, pulling her up with him. “Good girl. Can you walk?”

When she nodded, Kyle slipped into the space beside her, offering his forearm for support. She knew Simon could have handled her himself, but it warmed her heart to see him leaning on their friends. John had been a great support system when Simon deployed on his own, but having so many hands to hold made her feel loved and understood.

“A’right then, let’s have a baby, yeah?”

taglist: @esthervalea, @miss-leto, @lethalchiralium, @sweetestcowboy, @blueoorchid, @apocalypticseagull, @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction, @covenlovenn, @330bpm-whiplash, @gnoccheyy, @jaggernauticals, @dwkfan, @untoldshortsofthefandomsdoms, @bobfloydsgf, @maviee, @thomaslefteyebrow, @kyovy, @prodyng, @scout-fang, @avalkyrieofparis

Copyright © 2023 as-is-above-so-below. All rights reserved.

[kuroppiii]

  stickers ᵕ̈        boyfie!akaashi keiji x gn reader ˎˊ˗

⋮⋮ ˒ ₍ᐢ..ᐢ₎ 𖥻 ⿻ : where does he   ⋮⋮  get them from ?

📋 content     ♡ # 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧 🐮     ♡ # 𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘵 🥛     ♡ # 1.4k 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴

🧸 directory ‹ ✩  like what you read ? check out more of my blog !  •ᴗ•

akaashi always handwrites you notes on special occasions. the first one you had the pleasure to receive was for your one-month anniversary. you had seen his handwriting on the assignments you’ve worked on together or the exams he’s gotten back, but that was the first time you saw his written words dedicated to you.

you’d be lying if you said that first note didn’t make you tear up a little bit.

he always uses a black, fine tip ballpoint pen when he writes his notes to you. his handwriting is practiced and wispy—you can tell each stroke flows through to the next yet it’s not rushed, it’s careful. you know that because his words indenting ever so slightly through the paper they’re written on is evidence he’s a little heavy-handed as he translates his words to you through ink. it shows he really means those words you read off the page.

and another charming detail about your ever-growing collection of “keiji notes” is that they have stickers on them. small ones, blink-and-you’d-miss-it ones. in the margins, or in the corners, or even right by where he signs his name—laying claim to the inky confessions precededing it.

but for the life of you, you can never seem to find where he keeps them. the stickers, that is.

you’ve been together for a little over a year now—a year filled with many, many stickered notes—and yet you’ve never seen a single sticker sheet in his possession.

not in his bag…

nor his locker…

not in the drawers of his room’s desk…

nowhere!

and other than where he kept them, you had plenty of other questions. how many did he have? where’d he get them from? when did he get them? you spend so much time with him yet have never seen with your own eyes him buying them.

it was like a special mystery to you; something yet to be discovered in you and akaashi’s relationship that kept it fresh as long as it remained a secret. to preserve this little bit if whimsy, you never voiced out your curiosity. a silly part of you was convinced if you dared to even mention the stickers, next thing you’d know, they’d stop appearing in your precious notes from akaashi.

so you let it be. you accepted it without asking your questions—occasion after occasion, note after note…

،   そ   ✧   の後    🌱 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗻 ...

that was until one day: a friday night in winter as soon as school got out for the week, when the two of you were at a local corner store, splurging on snacks for a cozy night in with akaashi at his house. you had lost him in the fluorescent-lit aisles in your excitement to assemble the ultimate date night feast for the two of you.

after you’re finished carefully selecting the ramens and drinks and chips you concluded would perfectly accompany the queue of movies you and akaashi had picked over the past week’s lunch breaks, you start to roam the aisles to reunite with him.

peeking over the mountain of cheap treats you have balanced in your arms, you finally spot him in the very corner of the store, intently looking over a section of an aisle, “keiji, i’m ready to check out now!”

hearing your voice, he quickly turns around and you catch a sheepish smile creep onto his face as he leaves what he was checking out to make his way over to you. he immediately starts gathering some of the food items you have piled up in front of your face in his own arms to help alleviate your load.

with each new small snack pack akaashi took on, you get a clearer view of which aisle the two of you were standing in—it was the stationary aisle.

you look further down to where your boyfriend just was. he was looking at the corner store’s sticker sheet selection.

so that's where he gets them from.

“you think we’re really going to finish all this?” akaashi’s voice snaps your attention back to him. now with his own arms holding up a dozen or so items, he starts heading toward the self-checkout.

without getting a moment to further think about catching your boyfriend red-handed (sticker-handed?), you start trailing close behind—pointing out something along the lines of how he always pays for your date night food expenses, and so he could simply ask you to return some of the items back onto the shelves if he was so concerned.

and as the items get scanned (beep… beep… beep!) and akaashi packs them into the provided ‘thanks for shopping with us!’ plastic bags (all for him to carry out the doors of the corner store himself, so that you don’t have to worry about lifting a single finger), he defends himself with something that sounds vaguely like, “you’re too cute for me to resist. that’s not my fault!”

،   そ   ✧   の後    🌱 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗻 ...

you both make your way back to akaashi’s place under the street lights, alternating between periods where you can see each others faces lovingly looking at each other and small stretches of time where you have to rely on your voices to communicate that same emotion.

akaashi always had a way with words, written or otherwise. he’s quiet with his volleyball teammates or when he’s in class. with you, however, he makes sure your voices always mingle in his ears no matter what—always asking you to elaborate on things to hear your voice more or telling you about all the mundane things about his day that reminded him of you.

but while he thought he may have diverted your continuously flowing conversation away from the corner store sticker incident, he thought wrong.

“how many stickers do you have?” you quickly ask in a hushed voice as soon as your back-and-forth banter reached the smallest lull, beating akaashi to the punch with one of the questions that have been floating in your mind for so long.

“hm?” his voice perks up.

“stickers. like the ones on the notes you give me…” you trail off, as it feels weird acknowledging the childish touch to the heartfelt paragraphs you’ve been receiving for so long.

you’re both passing through between street lights, but you can almost hear akaashi’s smile grow in the dark as he asks, “you saw me in there looking at them?”

“yes!” now you’re in the light, and his smile is in fact there, making your heart skip a beat. but you push that thought away—he can’t charm his way out of this one—as you push him further, “now tell me! how many do you even have?”

“hm…” the rumble of his hum slices through the chilly night air as he thinks, “i have a few holiday ones, for when i write cards for the team—santa hats, birthday gifts, volleyballs, stuff like that."

“the stickers i get don't look like that,” you comment questioningly.

akaashi agrees with you with another calm hum, “yeah, well… i only really started buying the cuter stickers when– when i started going out with you, so—"

you feel your face warm up despite the cold breeze gliding past the two of you going down the street, “you still haven’t answered the question: how many?”

your boyfriend sighs and shakes his head lightly, “fine, let’s just say i have enough to keep making you notes for the rest of our lives. does that finally answer your question?”

very much delighted at his answer, the corner store bags clutched in akaashi’s hands rustled as you suddenly fling your arms around his shoulders once you reach the next street light.

akaashi lets out a huff at the sudden embrace but when he turns his head to face you, you can clearly see his smile hasn’t faded away one bit—just as content with the notion of his answer as you were.

“you really mean that?” you tease in a whisper, fingers playing with the hair at the base of his neck.

“of course i mean it,” he whispers back. he means it like he means every word he’s written to you on the page. he means it like every moment of every day he spends with you.

you lean in for a soft kiss, feeling your smiling lips against one another. akaashi’s hands are still occupied with the bags, so your arms hug him tighter and closer before you two finally pull away.

“where do you keep them?” still so close that your lips brush against akaashi’s as you speak, you try to question even further.

“oh, i can’t tell you that.”

“why?”

“can’t have you finding them and spoiling them for yourself. some of those will be for our wedding one day, after all.”

[eternal-kosmo-ghoul]

*°:⋆ₓₒ day 25. fuck party

.｡❅*⋆⍋*∞*｡ “merry christmas”

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — ❤︎ the ministry is all decorated in festive decor and it truly feels like the holidays are in season! now… what do these ghouls want to do with you?

pairing: era iv nameless ghouls x gn!reader

a/n: first off i just want to apologize for the last few days being so late. i really did try my best to make sure that each day had a good fic. this is the only fic that doesn’t really follow the prompt, but i tried my best. consider this fic a nice little letter for the start of 2024. happy new year, and please enjoy !!!

cw: slight nsfw content. horny ghouls. poly ghouls. implied orgy near the end. there’s nothing nsfw that really happens, just mentioned.

▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄

“we want to make this holiday special, dear. come on down to the nave of the ministry… you won’t be disappointed. merry christmas, sweetheart~” —❤︎

┅✦┅

the entire month has been a rollercoaster of emotions. each day you felt like something wild and absolutely ecstatic happens to you every day. it has only made your holiday season more and more interesting.

and now here you were, all cozied and nestled in your room, the scent of roasted chestnuts and currier ives lingering in the air. you sat atop your wooly quilt, with eight different letters in hand.

the slips were underneath your door when you came back from a long shift of working in the ministry. they were all decorated and colored differently, each envelope having its own unique flair and personality to it. you didn’t even have to read the names to know who’s was who.

smiling to yourself, you opened each letter one by one, excited to read what’s inside.

—

you had started off with the shiny white envelope. it was decorated in cute stationary stickers and the front was written in a glittery pink pen. at the bottom left corner of the envelope was a pink laced ribbon tied neatly with your name on it. if there was anyone that loved colors more than the entire human population, it was your favorite colorful ghoulette.

“aurora’s letter of thanks”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ to my dear y/n,

hello my darling! i hope this letter reaches you well, because i know how the others can get at times~ happy holidays, my love. i know that this month has been busy for you because of the constant yule traditions, but i’m delighted that you were able to make some time for me and that we could make gingerbread houses together like usual! and i gotta say… your tongue skills never fail to impress me~ you made me come so hard i swore i was going to pass out!! but really though… thanks for being such a sweetie to me, the ministry really doesn’t deserve you. i hope to see you soon for our little surprise~

with lots of love,

aurora ghoulette

—

the next envelope was colored in a dreamy grey, with cute hearts inked in pen on the cover, it gave off a much more serene and calm vibe compared to the vibrant letter of aurora’s. at the back was a little pocket that contained a written song. after careful observing, you had determined it belonged to an infamous air ghoulette. oh what a songbird she was.

“cumulus’ dreamy songbird”

༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹▫◃ ۪۪۫۫༄ؘ hello darling ♡︎

what a beautiful winter night, is it not? i often like to be in touch with nature when i’m writing, helps me keep my mind at center. how have you been, darling? i hope you’ve been better after our little passionate night in bed. you were so cute with how you were eagerly trying to get my lingerie off… it was charming, really. though, putting the promiscuity aside, i just want to really want to send this love letter to you as a token of my thanks. you’re my little songbird, and you inspire me to do better, whether it’s songwriting or performing. so as a token of my gratitude.. i’ve prepared a … special song for you. i hope you like it. anyways… come see me later, i’ll sing it.. specially for you~ i love you, dove, and i wish you a happy new year ♡︎♡︎♡︎

your dearest,

cumulus ghoulette

—

the texture of the next letter was earthy and coarse, but it emitted the soft aroma of fresh pine leaves. it seems that this letter was specially crafted personally for you. just from the scent and touch alone, you smiled to yourself knowing it came from a certain earth ghoul. upon opening it, there was a little sunflower necklace attached to the sand paper letter.

“mountain’s delighted memories”

*:..｡o○ to y/n,

hope you’re doing well, and that this year has been treating you well. i appreciate you approaching me that night… and throwing me into the passions of bed. i gotta say, those faces you made when i came deep inside of you, filling you up with me seed, it still gets me going. just being honest here. the reason i’m bringing this up is well… i want to make more memories like that with you. ones that we can share together, and make ourselves feel like we’re ascending to the heavens we can’t reach. you’re really someone that makes me want to just go all out, and in many ways. which is why my gift to you this year.. is going to be imprinted into your mind for eons to come. so, if you want to find more… stop by soon please, i’ll be waiting. ‘till then, have a good christmas.

from your love,

mountain ghoul

—

this paper was crumpled and slightly torn. it looked like it was made in a rush, but it held a certain charm to it. there were little trinkets and treats attached to the letter, all of which had a cute homemade vibe to it. the faded streaks of purple pen gave away who it belonged to, and you couldn’t be more happy when a certain bug came to mind.

“phantom’s sweet treats”

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ hi y/n!

i missed you :(( and i know that we live in the same ministry, but you’re so busy and i barely get to see you! which is why i dragged you out to ‘look for a christmas tree’ with me. i gotta say, i was nervous… but seeing how you reacted when i pounded you against that tree.. satanas, still sends shivers down my spine. after that night, i just can’t stop thinking about you. the way you reacted to my touch, oh it was so good. i put together some handmade goodies for you, hope you like them. think of it as my way of saying thanks for a good night :) on that note, i’m sure the other letters have talked about meeting in a special place. i’ll be there, and i’ll be sure to give you all of my attention <3

love,

phantom ghoul

—

closing the envelope shut, you grabbed the next one. lipstick marks stained the paper perfectly, imprinting kisses everywhere. looking at the particular shade of red of the lipstick, you instantly thought of a certain keyboardist. there was a soft pink rose attached underneath the slip, and you opened the envelope with ease.

“cirrus’ gratitude”

ﾟ+*:ꔫ:*﹤ evening darling,

i take that christmas has been well for you, huh? it certainly seems like it has been, considering how you were with me during that night in the log cabin ;)) we have to do that more often, sweetheart. you were so cute, with how your face was squished up against the window while i went to town on you… oh, still gets me wet, i can’t lie. it’s one of my favorite memories this season, and for that, i thank you. thanks for being such a delightful and loving partner. you’re honestly a saving grace for me, and you always make me feel good, both in and out of the bedroom. honestly, i’ve never met someone as good in bed as you are. so, as a token of my gratitude, i want you to meet me with the other ghouls tonight. it’ll be fun sweetheart, i promise.

from your dearest,

cirrus ghoulette ❤︎

—

looking at the next letter with intrigue, you were greeted with a faint smell of cologne, the scent of it was soft and reminded you of the beach. laced over the envelope was a red ribbon with seashells and shark tooth carved trinkets at the end. what a gorgeous sight. you opened it, and smiled upon recognizing the stunning calligraphy ingrained on the paper.

“rain’s poem”

｡･ﾟﾟ･ dear y/n,

having a good christmas? you better be, otherwise i’ll make sure you are. but for real though, i’m sure this year has been great for you. i would also like to thank you for.. ‘helping’ me with my own personal gift. you looked so goddamn good tied up in my bed like that. i’ll admit, i got carried away with my words, but i know damn well you were into me treating you like my bitch while i dicked you down on the mattress. though, that made me realize how much you love my honeyed words, so i’ll use this opportunity to praise instead to degrade. y/n, you’re an absolute starlight in my life, a treasure like no other. i’d move the heavens and pits for you. it’s cheesy, but it’s true, and i promise to show you how much i love you in any way i can. come by soon ❦

from your favorite water boy,

rain ghoul

—

the next letter had an ashy and brazened texture, but it shone with a brimstone-like layer to it. the paper was slightly calloused, and there was a fiery flair to it that could only be from one infamous firecracker you knew of. popping off the sloppily made wax seal, you opened it to find an equally burnt letter, but the sight made you smile.

“sodo’s confessions”

∞ ₒ ˚ ° 𐐒 to my y/n,

i’d ask you how you’re doing n’ shit, but i’m not good with words, or greetings nonetheless. so to get things out of the way, i’m going to be as straightforward as possible. y/n, i want to fuck you so badly this christmas right now. that night we shared, in my bedroom, fuck that was so hot. i loved the way you reacted every time i brought the candle wax down on your body. you looked so goddamn sexy covered in all of that… and the memory still makes my dick so hard. call me a pervert or whatever, but i’m proud to be one for you. i can’t help myself when i’m around you. your body, your scent, everything, it drives me fucking insane. don’t tell the other ghouls, but you’re my favorite, and i really can’t figure out why… guess i’m just so drawn to you. at midnight, when you meet the others, i’ll be sure to let them know who can make you feel the best in bed. and that’s not a threat, that’s a fucking promise. but ‘till then, i’ll be waiting for you, sweet thing

i love you,

sodo ghoul

—

the final letter had a reddish stain on it. bringing it closer to your nose, you got a faint whiff of red whine from the stain. the designs on the letter were intricate and creative, but there was a suave and sultry feel to this letter. if there was any infernal who knew how to be smooth, it was a certain multi ghoul with the voice of an angel.

“swiss’ invitation”

❤︎*♡∞:｡.｡ to my love,

welcome, darling~ i know how much you like the smell of wine, so i indulged you a bit in my envelope for you. merry christmas, and thank you for being such a passionate lover. gotta say, bunny, you looked so cute that one night when you were sitting on my cock. the way your rosy cheeks just got more pink every time you looked at me, desperate to stay warm… ooh, that’s what you call hot. good to know that i was able to keep you warm during that snowy night, and i got to get my dick wet too. so it was a win/win situation for the two of us, dear~ but all jokes aside, i had come up with the plan to treat my favorite sibling of sin to some… fun this season. i conspired with all of the other ghouls and ghoulettes to help me, and i’m sure they all mentioned in their letters that they want to meet up with you too. we want to make this holiday special, dear. come on down to the nave of the ministry… you won’t be disappointed. merry christmas, sweetheart~

forever yours,

swiss ghoul

—

folding all the letters neatly and piling them on your desk, you smirked to yourself, and got up from the bed to start walking over to the nave of the church. each step carried your eager body closer to a lustful, passionate and loving location.

whatever your lovers were planning… you knew it was going to be a good one.

eyeing up the tall, church doors, you pushed them open to be met with a glorious sight.

the moonlight streamed through the glass panes windows of the dimly lit nave. candles aligned everywhere with ribbons decorating every corner and crevice. but the best sight of all… were the infamous nameless ghouls themselves.

they were all dressed for the occasion, all dolled up to your liking. the ghoulettes were in matching lingerie, but in different colors. aurora in a rose gold, cumulus in white and cirrus in black. they all huddled together and perked up upon seeing you. you looked to the other side to see another group of ghouls. rain’s expression was neutral, but there was a promiscuous glint in his eyes as the red ribbon twirled between his fingers. sodo’s expression was as hungry as ever, eyeing like a piece of candy while holding onto a candle. phantom looked excited, but jittery, claws digging into his seat, and mountain looked as calm and collected as ever, albeit, not minding the little problem in his pants.

from the center, swiss emerged, and he looked down at you with a wicked, yet lustful grin. his tail flicked about to the side, and you looked up at him with curious eyes, chuckling, his long fingers traced around your jaw and gently clasped around it while craning your head up, making you look at him.

he smiled at you,

and in return you smiled.

“merry christmas, y/n.” he spoke suavely, his words still as honeyed as ever.

he then stepped behind you, gently massaging your shoulders and holding onto you. with a snap of his fingers, the ghouls and ghoulettes giggled and approached closer to you, lust on their minds.

oh

this would certainly be a christmas to remember~

▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄

[demodraws0606]

Why I am a die-hard believer that Whit is the mastermind

You know I was going to make an entire structured theory thread about it but Tumblr decided to be a little bitch and remove all my writing so I'll just kinda throw a messy list of evidence here.

Notice how Veronika's summary of Forever Dead is suspiciously similar to the secret dialogue

Notice how the main character's gender is pointed out

It's also interesting how the mysterious dialogue in the beginning who seems to be related to the hidden text (the idea of not being able to remember anymore link those two) seem to often mention the fact that they're grieving the loss of someone.

That someone most likely being Mai who seems to have suffered a tragic fate due to Teruko, which can explain the mastermind's hatred of her.

Guess who's character is linked with grief ?

(I know this is most likely about his mother but there is nothing contradicting the fact that he could be idolizing multiple dead people)

Wow it's interesting how these secret texts about Mai seem to be really idolizing her.

We can also add how the person who wrote the note to Xavier is very clearly the mastermind and how Whit's tool is a Stationery (it's spelled Stationary but i believe its a typo) which is commonly known as writing and other office materials.

Which includes paper, pens, ink, highlighters and other tools for writing

It's even made worse by the fact that the note seems to be written by a specific type of blue pen that we haven't seen anywhere in the series.

And even worse is that Charles, who knows Whit's handwriting, couldn't point out the writing is his as he couldn't access the scene of the crime due to his trauma therefore he couldn't see the note's handwriting.

It's really really interesting how the hidden text points out how they can predict everyone's behavior in a killing game and Whit's intuition is highlighted three times in this game.

Another suspicious thing is how the mastermind of the game talks about how they basically can predict anything that can happen. It's almost like how Whit jokingly predicted Arei's death.

Along with how Whit is the only one who has directly talked to the audience (him showing the papers) or how he's nudged the killing game into more interesting directions/avoided it from going off the rails.

Other exemples would be him defending Teruko/Charles in the first trial, him not revealing David's secret until the last minute (as well as the note that suspiciously pointed to Eden), him not trying to help with the fight in episode 4, him insisting that Charles and Teruko talk about their family life (aka nudging them to talk about their backstory which would entertain the audience) and other stuff i don't feel like adding.

It's also important add that Mono-TV and Whit also have similar personalities. They both don't take anything seriously and make constant jokes about the killing games, Mono-TV and Whit also act constantly incompetent and like they're a lot dumber than they actually are.

Another thing is that it's interesting how Whit opens up about his secret so easily, even though almost everyone's secrets are something they're at least flustered about and at worst completely ashamed by. If he was the mastermind, it would make sense that his secret wouldn't be anything that could ruin his character and that he could just admit easily.

Also another point, the mastermind character talks about a time when they cared so much about people and how it hurt them so much when they died. Which you can see that caring nature shine through a lot with Whit as it's possible that Whit's personnality is not actually a lie but more so a reflection of how he used to be before he went through all this alledged horrible stuff.

We can also note how the mastermind has to be one of the students and how there is an extreme likelyhood that Mono-TV saying it isn't bait because it's not actually told to the students but to us. Why would Mono-TV tell it to us and not to the students if it was a lie meant to make the game more interesting, wouldn't it be more entertaining to reveal to the students of a fake mastermind among them to get them to kill one another more easily. It's why I have no doubt someone in this class has to be the mastermind behind it.

Mono-TV also seems to not have any contact with the person controlling him which would make sense if it was someone in the killing game as they would have a hard time communicating without being caught.

(It's a stretch but it would make more sense if Mono-TV didn't know if the mastermind was one of them as if the mastermind was behind the scenes there would be no reason why it wouldn't interact with Mono-TV, although take this with a grain of salt as he could be lying)

And just really there aren't a lot of other options for the mastermind that would be compelling unless they introduce a mysterious new character.

It could be the mysterious red haired girl but everything hints towards her being dead or hurt and it being the cause for the killing game rather than her being the one behind it. There is some decent evidence that it could be her but I genuinely don't think so considering it again feels a little too obvious and doesn't work with how the story/secrets present her.

(It's just not very compelling to make your ONE mystery character the mastermind and again it would be weird considering Mono-TV telling the audience the mastermind is in cast doesn't make sense logically as he would have no reason to try and trick the audience)

Not a lot of characters in this cast can be really put into the mastermind category as they are either too obvious (teruko, veronika) or too farfetched (eden, hu etc...).

I honestly am a die hard believer that Whit is the mastermind however what's interesting to me is not If Whit is the mastermind but more so the Why ?

Which honestly might be a question for another time...

But yeah this is why I 95 pourcent believe Whit is the mastermind

If anyone has anything more to add I would be really interesting in seeing what other people have in terms of evidence.

[cordeliawhohung]

One day, Simon finds a nondescript notebook pushed underneath the couch. He recognizes it as one of the many pieces of stationary he bought expecting to use and then never did, leaving it empty. But he didn’t leave it under the couch, much less next to a pen with a bitten cap.

He pulls it out and opens it to the first page.

On it is a rough sketch of a pretty girl who looks suspiciously like his Bonnie, kneeling in a dress with hair covering her face. Beneath it are the words My Thoughts. Simon huffs in curiosity- seems Bonnie got her hands on this old book and decided to make it her own. He reads further.

The top of the next page reads Day 8 of Captivity Residency.

I found this notebook next to some of Simon’s classical novels. It’s empty, so I hope I can use it to make things a little more bearable. I don’t think he’ll miss it, and I need someone to talk to. Everything still feels very surreal- I wake up expecting to be back in my room at home only for Johnny to squeeze me. Honestly, I still don’t understand why this is happening to me. I don’t know either Johnny or Simon. Simon doesn’t even seem to like me at all, even though he’s the one who kidnapped took me. I think he mentioned something about me being a gift for Johnny, but why would Simon get a third wheel to his own relationship willingly? Nothing makes sense and sometimes I just wanna tear my hair out, but obviously I can’t. I have to be the docile pet they both want me to be. Not like it’s hard to play the part when I’ve been doing it all my life. I guess that’s one thing the experience of being the eldest daughter is good for.

At least I have my little whispering book now. I almost feel giddy, having a little secret thing just for me. But I know it won’t last. Even here I have to be careful in case one of them finds it. But I have to take that risk, otherwise I’ll go insane with all my thoughts stuck in my head. I wonder if that’s how Simon turned out this way. Or Johnny. I wish I wasn’t so scared all the time. I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop, for one of them (probably Simon) to really hurt me, but it never comes and I just keep getting more paranoid. It would be easier if Simon didn’t seem to hate me so much. Why does he hate me?? I’m doing the best I can to be what they want me to be and I think I’m doing a pretty good job given the circumstances. Will he ever warm up to me, or am I going to have to deal with his disdain forever for as long as I’m here?

Simon chuckles as he reads, gaining a more complete picture of Bonnie’s thoughts. She and Johnny are sleeping right now- no reason not to read a little more.

~🦋 (if it’s not taken!!!)

oh my goodness!!! i loved the little bit at the end:

forever for as long as I’m here?

like bonnie's convinced she's going to get out, or at least has to keep positive and hope she'll escape back to her normal life some day in order to keep sane. thanks so much for this little blurb omg!!!

[kenphobia]

contents. nami x reader; urrghhghd just a drabble i might expand on if asked; fluff, no exact plot; might ooc; i need more nami x readers man ... why do the guys take up all the attention, give my girl some love; these btches gay!!!! good 4 em!!

Nami, the sly bright-haired navigator of the strawhats, who came to your little village to restock and happens to come across your shop that fits exactly her needs— a stationary shop.

Her slender fingers brushing up against jars of ink, eyeing at the price tags and feeling her jaw drop at the cheapness of it. Her eyes glancing towards you sitting behind the counter, assisting the other customers in their purchase.

She wonders around your shop for a while, too long actually, as she slithers her way around and out of aisles in search for ... whatever she's racking out of her brain when you ask her what's she's looking for.

Nami, the usually level-headed and responsible one out of the strawhats, suddenly unable to stutter out a proper excuse in front of a pretty shopkeep.

You watch as her eyes brighten and glisten in delight when you allowed her to rest your papers' qualities, admiring the strokes of ink on the sheet. It didn't bleed through, the paper doesn't rip easily or crumple under the slightest movement. Not to mention the pen she used feels comfortable in her grip.

A wide gracing her lips as she happily buys your products, even giving more than what's supposed to be paid for and excusing it as tip (even if you don't exactly accept tips). When she exits the shop, the orange glow seems to fade alongside her bright hair.

Nami who came back to the ship happier than usual, humming and even swaying ever so slightly as she strides straight to her room with a sense of urgency, as if something's waiting for her inside.

When she closes the door on her, leaving the others to look at her with either confusion, amusement or both, she pulls out a piece of crumpled paper that's been obviously ripped out of a notepad.

She looks down at it and her face softens, twiddling the piece in her hand as she settles her newly brought belongings down on the table.

'XX - XXXX - XXXX call me sometimes?'

She laughs, caressing the crumpled sheet as her thumb goes over the written number and tucks a strand behind an ear.

"I'll definitely call you," Nami turns to the porthole, showing a view of the still sea, "(Name)."

notes. this is my sad attempt at squeezing myself in the one piece side of tumblr hhrrhhghh pls reqs are open pls pls

[shubblelive]

— RED PEN

— summary : wilbur's next show is in three days, and he just so happens to be in the same city as you.

— genre : fluff

— warnings : literally just the word sex, one singular curse word, mentions of food/eating

— pairing : musicianbur x reader

— featuring : musician!wilbur soot, lovejoy (mentioned)

— pronouns : none (you/yours)

— word count : 0.7k

— note: reader is in early 20s in uni and still lives at home also i accidentally adhd coded reader

you couldn't find your red pen.

you were colour-coding notes, and you had put your red pen somewhere and you couldn't keep writing your notes without it. your window was open, letting a light breeze in on one of the last warm nights of the year, and you were looking under your bed for the damn piece of stationary.

it was dark, and you were feeling slightly claustrophobic, phone flashlight in one hand the other pushing things out of the way.

"what are you doing?"

your head shot up, hitting the underside of your bed and making you swear loudly. you had to do the awkward reverse-army shuffle to get out from under your bed. it definitely wasn't dignified, and yet when you finally got to your feet the man in front of you couldn't be more enamored with you.

"wha- what am i doing?" you spluttered, diving into wilbur's open arms. "what are you doing? i thought you were on tour!"

wilbur chuckled and stroked your back. "i missed you,"

you buried your head in his neck. "i missed you." despite the fact that will only had a few hours with you and wanted to catch up on everything that you'd been doing, he let you hug him for as long as you needed.

"what were you doing under the bed?" he asked quietly, knowing your parents would be asleep.

"can't find my pen," you mumbled, not pulling away.

as much as he didn't want to, wilbur pulled back slightly so he could look you in the eyes. "it's in the fridge,"

"why the fuck would it be in the fridge?"

he took your hand, and gently lead you down the stairs. "well, if i know you, which i hopefully do, then i know you always forget to eat. and you know this," he gave you a look and you stuck your tongue out at him.

he reached your kitchen, letting you sit on the kitchen bench. he pulled open your fridge. "so, in an effort to remind yourself you put essential items with food," he tossed you your pen with one hand and held up a tupperware container of pasta you'd saved for dinner.

he was right, and you hated that he knew your weird little strategies. he saw your frown and put the container down, coming to wrap his arms around you. "darling," he said softly. "i love you,"

"i am embarrassing," you said decidedly, melting into his embrace.

"maybe," he mused, planting a kiss on your jaw. "but i still love you,"

"i think i'm done studying for tonight," you put a hand on his cheek. "let's go,"

will was lying on top of you in your bed, your fingers scratching gently at his scalp. "how did you get in, by the way?" you asked as an afterthought.

"window," he said simply. "the rest of the band booked a hotel, but i knew i had to see you," you kissed his forehead. "like i said. i missed you,"

"are you performing tomorrow?" you asked gently, almost scared to hear that he'd have to leave.

"nope," he sighed contentedly. "next show's in three days, and i don't leave 'till the afternoon before. so i am all yours until then."

"what do you wanna do?" his fingers traced along your arms with a feather light touch you'd missed so much it ached.

"we could have sex?" wilbur asked, and you couldn't stop yourself from giggling.

wilbur looked at you amused. "what's so funny?"

you snorted. "nothing, darling," you could barely get it out, wheezing. wilbur started laughing too until you both fell silent.

someone knocked on your door.

"everything alright?"

"mhm," you said. your parents understood you were an adult, and they adored wilbur, but you knew they wouldn't take too kindly to him sneaking into their house without them knowing. "yeah, sorry. just... on the phone to will. sorry, i'll keep it down,"

wilbur pressed his face into your sheets to stop from laughing, and as soon as your dad had gone he looked up at you. "god i've missed you,"

"ah shit," you said suddenly. "i forgot to eat."

[idleglowingpixels]

I forget if I had mentioned it before but I'm currently watching One Piece per my bestie @stellarstar18's insistence, and I'm enjoying it so far! I'm about 45 episodes in now, I just finished the Arlong arc and I wanted to just ramble about something I thought was cool from it. Normally this isn't a series I gush about a lot, but this arc went crazy so of course I'm gonna talk about it!

I'm gonna add a Keep Reading for fellow newbies but from here on out consider this your fair spoiler warning for the Arlong Park arc's ending. Also, to those who are already caught up on the series, please don't spoil anything for me and other newbies! You can absolutely screenshot my post if you wanna add onto it with further spoilers.

The main thing I wanted to talk about was near the end of Luffy's battle with Arlong, where Luffy just starts throwing everything out of the mapping room -- desks, stationary, and nearly ten whole years' worth of maps of the seas -- not giving a single shit about what gets destroyed, all after seeing a bloodied pen left behind from Nami.

What got me was that you'd think Luffy was just doing it to piss off Arlong, to destroy the maps so he can't beat Luffy to the Grand Line, but that wasn't the reason AT ALL. He knows what kinda shit Arlong put Nami through, and even after being left behind by her, he still stuck to his guns, went after her despite the protest from the other crew mates, and stood by her side.

To Nami, he was just another pirate that she needed to steal berries from. She knows he and the other Straw Hats aren't the typical bastard pirates who hurt innocent people for their own selfish gain, but her obligation to her hometown and to Arlong's agreement is what made her ultimately try and leave them behind.

Luffy could've easily scooped up all those maps for himself, taking them along to further his own journey across the seas and toward the Grand Line, but he doesn't. Not because it wouldn't help him, it absolutely would, but those maps were made from the blood, sweat and tears of a desperate child just trying to keep what's left of her family and village safe. That's what makes him such a compelling protagonist.

Of course, yes, there's more than enough times where Luffy does things for others that are ultimately for his own gains. Him rescuing Zoro within the first few episodes is a good example of this. Zoro is a pirate hunter, known for killing several captains and their crews, but Luffy barely batted an eye to that because they both hate corrupt authority, the deconstruction of which is a mutual goal of theirs. He also knew having a strong swordsman would benefit him in the long run, which was his initial mission, but on the way he also helped the village Zoro was protecting by saying "fuck you" to the corrupt marines and kicking their asses.

Here, it's a similar situation. He's mainly going through all this additional effort because he knows Nami is an intelligent navigator that will help him toward being deemed King of the Pirates. BUT he is ALSO going through the extra work to help the innocent villagers, which includes Nami, and removing her obligations to both Arlong and her village. She went through years of suffering at Arlong's whim to protect them, and again, he hates corrupt authority. Part of it is so Nami no longer has to protect them alone through her suffrage, but the other part of it is protecting innocent lives from bastards like Arlong, who don't deserve to consider themselves King of the Pirates for even a second.

Luffy would rather have Nami happily join his crew by her own volition, and willingly navigate the seas and create maps. He doesn't care for all the maps she made for Arlong because she was forced against her will to do so. I know it's kind of a running gag that Luffy just says "No you're joining my crew whether you want to or not lol" but every single time, whatever characters he says that to ends up saying "Y'know what, yeah maybe I will join your crew" after seeing him kick ass with his rubber-man powers, and knowing that he's not an asshole like the vast majority of pirates. He never actively forces anyone onto his ship against their will, he's just like "Come on, we gotta get to our next destination!" and the others see his ambition and roll with it.

TL;DR, idk Luffy's a pretty cool dude lol

[marshmallowprotection]

Hi! I see that since you mentioned match ups are open people have eagerly hopped in. I honestly don't blame them since you're so good at it. It's really fun reading everyone's match ups so I wanted to give it a go too! I wanted to avoid mentioning or comparing characters to avoid influencing the results but like simplifying a person's personality is hard so I'm just gonna roll with it, lol.

In terms of personality, I'm an introvert but that doesn't mean I'm shy. I can be (I have, like, 3 different anxiety diagnosis) but usually I'm generally low energy and relaxed. Very deadpan. So much so much so that people tend to laugh even when I'm being serious. I'm a Taurus and I find the description very much fitting. I take pride in being pragmatic, grounded, down to earth. I like taking care of people in a more realistic way (and just in general). In spite of seeming calm or blunt I'm actually really sensitive and emotional (although I'll never show others my vulnerability). I always try to consider the other person's feelings which is why I'm often called kind and considerate. A good listener. I'm quiet so that comes with the territory lol. I generally don't like to talk about myself and will only say something if asked/spoken to first. In simple terms I'd say I'm a weird mix of Jumin(practical, decisive, analytical) and V(emotional, sentimental, self sacrificing). I always end up getting the most hearts from them when I respond honestly especially Jumin haha. One last thing for me is that along with my millions of anxiety disorders(including paranoia so I heavily relate to Rika and Saeyoung) I also have ADHD(I guess *also* like Saeyoung lolol). As I'm sure you can tell by now I don't have the one that makes me bounce off the wall. I believe the one I have is called inattentive and it makes me a total space cadet. But I was very imaginative and creative so I think it was good trade off? I'm pretty sure my mom thought child me was a plant because I was so quiet and still. Never cried that much and was an "easy" child except when she had to coax me to do things. Then I was stubborn lolol. Definitely a Taurus haha.

For work and study, ever since I could hold a crayon I've been drawing and art has always been my focus. In public school I'd pick the all the art classes and I'd even take outside classes during summers off and when I grew out of that I'd do self study with books and online tutorials. I do illustration and graphic design and my major in college was visual communication design (which is a wordier way to say graphic design). I got my associates but sadly had to drop while doing my bachelor's (would love to get a master's and study art forever but it's just a dream for now). Currently, I work as a bakery clerk part time until I can get a better job but I like it. I like seeing people's faces light up saying "SO PRETTYYY~" when they see our cakes. I do a little bit of everything so bread bagging, baking, set up, orders, cake decorating. It's very well rounded job where I'm breaking a sweat and feel like I'm earning my dollar while also having creative input. I like giving the customers advice for their get togethers and parties. It's nice. I'd like to one day have my own brand and put myself out there as an artist but for now this is fine enough.

When it comes to hobbies I feel like it's on the nose cause I like to be creative and have my hands moving. The obvious is drawing (both digitally and traditionally. Love using soft chalk pastels) and baking but I also like more crafty hobbies like crocheting and scrapbooking. I'm a big stationary nerd and I love collecting paper, notebooks, stickers/washi taped, pens/pencils, ect. Been into watching bookbinding vids. I also have the more typical hobby of listening to music, reading (big book nerd put me in a book store I'll leave with a tall stack), big gamer nerd.

Some other miscellaneous info about me is my favorite color is green 💚. I generally like deep earthy, natural colors but I also like gentle pastels like pink and lavender. I'm a big dog person and I dislike cats. I'm actually afraid of them and they cause me a lot of anxiety. I would never cause trouble for them and I hope they are homed to people that genuinely adore them. I just don't jive with them. I can and have taken care of them in a pinch. I wouldn't let my personal stuff cause them harm. I definitely understand and relate to dogs more. I want to grow old with a bunch of pups to take care of lol. I don't want kids so cute puppers will do. I have hazel eyes and rusty red hair. When I was younger my hair was much brighter yellow orange compared to Saeyoung but as I got older it turned into a deeper, darker rust red. I also have freckles all over. My favorite shape is stars! I love astrology and magic and whimsy (again such a contrast from how I present lolol ⭐)

Im more prone to forgiving and moving on and I found Saeran's AE really relatable. It brought up a lot of topics that were really important to me that I feel a lot of people overlook in stories about healing from abusive parents. I really can't hold onto my anger for very long and generally prefer to look at people for what they are and either work with them or move on. I don't like letting others take my time and energy which is why I'm "nice", or at least normal, to even people i don't like. I feel like being petty and angry all the time is draining. It's just my style of healing. On the contrary I find anger and yelling very triggering for me even from friends who I know won't hurt me or are speaking on my behalf. The antagonististic energy is just very uncomfortable. I prefer a gentle touch I can trust. Everyone is capable of getting angry, it's healthy and normal, but I prefer someone who's first instinct isn't to jump to anger but understanding. Makes me feel safe.

That's about everything I can think of. I don't normally think about myself so it's hard to write haha. Hopefully that all made sense. Thanks for taking the time if you see this. 😊

I match you with...

Jihyun!

Hear me out, I know this might sound odd, but you seem to fall into the same realm as his heart.

Don't take this to mean that you're self-destructive, it's actually that you're passionate and that this passion is what inspires you to be who you are. Even though it may not be a lucrative career to survive as an artist, you find a way to make it work, and in doing so, you don't sacrifice what helps you feel like you have artistic liberty. Not a lot of people have that opportunity, and it would be interesting to be close to Jihyun, wouldn’t it? He didn't give up on his dream of painting, he simply found something else to fill the void in his chest because his father made him believe he would never be able to make it. 

Seeing you be your most authentic self is a challenge to everything he's ever told himself. You're the kind of person who challenges him, because while you are similar, you are inherently different, as well. It's not a bad thing, it's something he welcomes, and he can't help but want more. 

He's not the kind of person who's going to jump to anger when something goes wrong. You don't have to be afraid of being in a conversation with him, especially not with the two of you are upset, because he has a level enough head to know that you need to take some time to breathe, and do whatever you need to do before you come back to the conversation. Nothing ever feels like it's going to explode when you're with him. It feels like you can overcome any challenge that comes your way. 

[easierreadthandone4711]

Days Off

"...but all I ever took away from therapy was a somewhat clearer understanding of how messed up I was." - John Moe, The Hilarious World of Depression

I had expectations for my days off. The work week didn't end badly, even though a co worker of mine left a nasty taste in my mouth after speaking poorly about my work ethic to another co worker. The work load was easy and I was able to get a lot of reading done.

The Glass Castle by Jeanette Walls has me triggered and infuriated. I won't spoil books here but when I say the parents have me feeling some type of way...smh. Its been a great read though and I can safely say my oldest is also my literary twin.

I haven't mentioned her yet but I made a new friend here in Nantucket, she works with me currently and has been such a godsend for me. I'm not even sure she realizes how vital her taking me under her wing has been. For my first day off I woke up early with an optimistic attitude and ready to get things done. The front desk was finally having someone come fix the heater after days of freezing at night - while he was fixing I planned to go to the store to grab laundry necessities and food for the upcoming week. I would return and go to the gym, update my blog and get some studying done.

Ten AM came and went with no maintenance man in sight so I called the front desk and asked them if I needed to be here while he fixed it, they said no. I was only slightly annoyed that I was beginning my day later than I had planned but, shxt happens and I still had the whole day ahead of me so no big deal - nothing is fucked.

The prices out here are crazy and every grab off the shelves made me sick thinking about the total cost going up. Shockingly, the laundry items were cheaper than I expected and I was grateful for it. Typically, I don't purchase items like that at grocery stores, as the cost is much higher.

When I returned, the heater was fixed and I filled up my mini fridge. Things were moving swimmingly until I realized I did not have a working battery for one of my devices. I managed to find a store with a cheap one thankfully - but there those dollar signs were again. I do want to clarify that I am not in a pinching pennies situation, however, as a government employee, the shutdown would effect my paycheck and to make sure all will continue being taken care of, I've been extra cautious about spending.

Unfortunately, all of this pushed into what would have been my gym time and I moved onto the next items on the list that I needed to take care of. I cracked open a black berry cider, made some turkey sliders and popped open my work laptop to finish enrolling myself and my kiddos onto my insurance.

There it was, an email stating I owe a very unexpected amount to the travel card issued by work. I gathered all of the statement/payment records and the notebook where I keep track of all my purchases and payments.

**Side note - there's a store in Boston called Muji and it was like stationary heaven to me. Other writers get it. Pens, planners, and these notebooks that hit like butter to my brain and I just cannot get enough. I have about a dozen of their notebooks, I would have more but I gifted my children and a couple friends with one their own. Giving the gift of a space for their thoughts <3 Just to reiterate, Muji, in Boston, chefs kiss.

**continuing..

I realized that when I made the discovery of these notebooks, I transferred over my bills/finances from old spiral notebook of lesser quality. Best decision ever, or so I thought. Normally I make sure to copy all the past entries so that I have no need to refer back to the old books but for whatever reason I did not do that this time. I was shxt out of luck and I was not going to be able to cross check my records with theirs. Its fine, I assured myself, just another change in plans today, I am going to audit the bit myself from day one, starting from May 24th. The new notebook begins in August so I figured, easy peezy. All is well, nothing is fxcked and I'll figure it out.

I finished out May and June expenses and prepared myself to compare mine to theirs - except, when I went to do so, I see that the earliest payment was in early July and I paid a couple hundred short of the actual amount I should have paid. There it was, the beginning of my spiral.

What did I do? How did I miss that many expenses when I reviewed them in June? How could I be that stupid? This is basic fxcking math - you fuxcking idiot. There you going being the cause of your bullshxt again. What were you thinking?! I can only imagine what the rest of the months look like. You probably owe the whole amount and more you fxcking idiot. How do you expect to make the next move for the kids if you can't even get your fxcking math right?! Math they could do. You call yourself a mother. You're just one fxck up after the other. It sickening the way they deserve better and they ended up with you.

Writing this out is troublesome because I sound really mean to myself. Sounds like a lot but in that moment, the glimmer of light I had began the day with was gone and I was once again the worthless waste of space again that can't do anything right.

I made a payment towards the card, closed my laptop, shut the lights off and turned on a random movie on Netflix. I sank into my bed telling myself it was okay and I'd be able to figure this out, Afterall, I've been through much worse than this, right? The gentle voice that I'd been working on was backed into a corner, the winds from the spiral holding her down. Numbers and images of the kids swirling around, slapping her around and making sure she stayed down, quiet. No, you don't get to talk yourself up for this one, stupid. So fxcking undeserving. You have one job and you're failing.

The movie came and went, unamused, I clicked play for the next distraction to begin. Didn't make it to the gym, didn't read, didn't blog... more than half my day gone, wasted. It brought me even lower. A few silent tears made their way to my pillow case, in those moments I focused even harder on the movies. This shapeless, colorless, invisible feeling was pulling me down deeper and deeper.

A knock at the door came, it was my new friend. She said she wanted to check on me before going to her room. I hadn't mentioned to her how I was feeling but in that moment, it didn't matter how she knew, I was being pulled back up for air and I wasn't going to fight it. I explained a little bit about the email and my discovery. She said, "you hungry?" I said yes and she gave me 30 minutes to get ready.

Dinner was nice, we spoke about football and the food in front of us. We remained present in that moment and that allowed my gentler self to get up and say it once more, it's going to be okay.

Depression doesn't work that way though, does it? As the book calls us "saddies", y'all get it, the saddies get it.

I played trivia with my babies until I couldn't see my phone screen straight anymore and then I fell asleep, hard. I'm not sure what startled me up this morning but I knew it was going to be a day of convincing myself to get out of bed. Don't worry, I made it out - lucky for me, feeling my body fat rolling around in bed is enough to disgust myself and I got up to prep for the gym. But first, my coffee.

While sipping on my coffee and scrolling through the social scene, I ran into memory lane. A video of my oldest saying good bye to her little brother, it was the first day of kinder. From behind the camera, I ask her if she's going to miss her brother - its quick and easy to miss, but I spotted it just then. A breath in, glossy eyed and a clenched jaw you can barely see because her cheeks are so round, a breath out, she nods and says "yeah". Her little brother looks to her with puckered fish lips for a kiss and they say good bye. The video ends there but the memory continues to play out...hand in hand, we begin walking towards her classroom. I ask her if she's ready, her expression scrunches into her serious face and her hand goes a little tighter. "Yes." she says it with conviction. I ask her if she's nervous, the scrunch gets tighter, so does her little hand. "No." I said okay, and gave promises of a fun day. I knew she was nervous, I could see the battle being fought in her eyes. She fought hard to keep that courage on her face and I wasn't going to let her know that I knew it was all a facade. I would never let her know that she didn't really succeed in hiding her fears, she needed to know she won that battle so that she would feel ready to take on what was up ahead. I held my own tears back that day because I needed her to know that I knew she had everything she needed to win that day. My tears would singlehandedly ensure that we would both lose the inner battles.

There was no gym today. I gave myself some grace and rested from the battle I have been fighting for so long. The wars that go for years hit different you know? My babies are strong for me, and I have to be too, for them. So this entry is serving as evidence I did SOMETHING today, even if it was more for healing purposes than productivity.

[qserasera]

hi i'm finally back. writing meme questions please: 19, 23, 32 as well, and 36

wahhhh im finally here to answer these friend!! questions from this writing meme here. 19.Tell me a story about your writing journey. When did you start? Why did you start? Were there bumps along the way? Where are you now and where are you going? o v o this is a tough one...man. i suppose mine would be one of those typical bookworm-since-i-could-read turned beginning writer pipeline....i have vague memories of making like. stapled together picture books with my own writing in them since i was six years old possibly!!! hahaha.

went thru the whole run of fic-writing during the rlly rough years of middle school-ft-high school etc.

still writing fic now (with some pieces actually going. over. 10k!!! unbelievable), with some attempts at original writing here and there (true) (intention is there)( ; v ; everything is a work in progress and that's okay!!) 23.Describe the physical environment in which you write. Be as detailed as possible. Tell me what’s around you as you work. Paint me a picture. long desk which makes a satisfying knocking sound if u thump your palms against it...looks like it's made of fake pine. surface covered in assortment of scattered pens, neatly stashed headphones, filed-away recipes for meals, and cute stationary paper. in the right corner, a reassuringly chunky radio clock (ft the kind in a studio ghibli film set) blinks red as the hours change.

32. What is a line from a poem/novel/fanfic etc that you return to from time and time again? How did you find it? What does it mean to you?

novel quote: this TGCF quote which strikes me in the kokoro every time for obvious reasons!!: “to me, the one basking in infinite glory is you; the one fallen from grace is also you. what matters is you, and not the state of you.”

fic quote: ok so this is from a natsume yuujinchou fic ft my very talented friend @defeateddetectives and yes. it is. under 1k. bUT NO LESS INCREDIBLY DEVASTATING!!!!!

this entire scene is basically between matoba seiji and nanase, after matoba is irate from a clan talk about marriage:

Briefly, she wonders if this target practice had always been more than it appeared to the untrained eye, wonders if he pictures the mark to be his heart with the belief that practice made perfect after all...

A beat later, she asks. "What do you want, Seiji?" It is the wrong question. His stillness fractures for a moment and his hair comes undone from its loose tie atop his head when he shakes it violently once. "Do not play games with me," he nearly snarls. "I want this house to survive and you know this."

He does not say: The rest is irrelevant.

in case you were wondering what the irrelevant thing was....he was thinking about natori shuuichi The Repression......the doomed feeling of Power and Devotion to his duty forcing him to crush down any softer sentimental feelings of his own, choosing Survival over love!!!....the archery as a metaphor for him striking at his own heart. exquisite work!!!! 36.They say to Write What You Know. Setting aside for a moment the fact that this is terrible advice…what do you Know? oooh i did answer this one time here, but i don't mind having a second try at this!!

hmmmmm....i think one thing either my beta reader or one of my other readers mentioned was how the ships i tend to favor have a really....natural intimate dynamic when i end up writing them in a fic?? or they have an implicit understanding of each other, and they respond and react to that accordingly without having it pointed out explicitly in-text. which kind of gives the atmosphere a 'romance-without-being-rated-as-romantic' feel.

i accept it as a compliment but im not sure how i do it though....maybe it's the influence of a constant stream of cdramas? im thinking of that one fic i wrote where childe had a long journey, and zhongli, being thoughtful of him took a seat near the corner of a table that was the coldest spot and blocked the wind from where childe was sitting and he doesn't comment on it and the fic....doesn't linger on it especially! zhongli just does it!! love expressed as....an act of care?? or something??? i don't know what it shows that i know but it's something ; w ;

[archduke-enver-gortash]

UNUSUAL OC ASSOCIATIONS

tagged by @camelliagwerm thank you! god i am so sorry i completely forgot to post this, it was rotting in my drafts😭 i’ll do ven and ollie.

VEN

Seasoning: hm. my gut says curry powder for some reason

Weather: typical april weather

Colour: pink, grey and violet

Magic Power: conjuring her kinetic fire?

House Plant: cactus. one of those small, round ones with flowers on top

Weapon: she doesn’t normally use weapons, but i think she’d have fun with a sling.

Subject: drama. yes she’s a fucking theater kid

Social Media: don’t think she’d use a specific site, she’d be an annoying troll on everything

Make-up Product: she has a collection of lipsticks that are all wildly different in colour. so that, i guess.

Candy: center shock! does anyone else know these. they’re like sour gum with tons of wild flavours

Fear: having emotions; accepting that she is an actual person and not some puppet

Ice cube shape: dinosaurs! other cool creatures! she’d use those trays you can put the water in all the time

Method of long distance travel: getting carried by regongar

Art style: abstract + surrealism

Mythological creature: imp

Piece of stationary: one of those multi-colour pens

3 emojis: 🎭🃏🤡

Celestial body: comet

OLEANDER

Seasoning: herbs

Weather: eerie, dark rainy day in the countryside

Colour: dark green and a reddish brown

Sky: cloudy

Magic Power: shapeshifting, making people rot from the inside with a touch of his hand (charming fellow!)

House Plant: trick question! all of them!

Weapon: again, mostly does not use weapons but instead gores people on his shambling mound shape branches. does that count? if it doesn’t, he’s also able to use bows pretty efficiently.

Subject: Biology + Philosophy

Social Media: obscure wildlife/nature forum, one of those ppl who has the best and most informative posts but it’s very obvious to everyone reading that he has issues when he briefly mentions his personal life in one of them (“uhh why is apocynaceae43 talking about the mother of beasts in his latest gardening tutorial??”)

Make-up Products: blood and guts :)

Candy: blueberries, all berries are good though

Fear: failing

Ice cube shape: cubes

Method of long distance travel: transforming into a vulture and flying

Art style: Romantic

Mythological creature: witches (almost was one before i went with druid)

Piece of stationary: old handmade journal for his poetry

3 emojis: 🥀🌳🙏

Celestial body: hm. black hole maybe?

[vermillionsails]

Fountain Pen

This is a Steven Grant x Reader fic

(A/N) This is pure fluff because I love this man so much. Also Steven is the king of stationary and you can't my mind. I don't own the gif or the characters. Except maybe Cheshire your cat. (Not the name of the cat obvi) You and Steven know of Marc but it's not mentioned here totally except maybe when you give him is gift. It's stuttle.

• she/her pronouns for the reader

• ⚠️ J.B being J.B you being bitchy to J.B that's it. Oh it's a little time Skippy I won't lie and the word you is used a lot.

• Synopsis- it's your guys first valentines day as a couple unfortunately he was scheduled to work and it has been pouring rain all day but, you surprise Steven with a fountain pen and other gifts, trying to make the most of a sucky day.

• Steven is blue and you're orange

Steven 💙🐊

Hey luv Donna scheduled me untill 10:00 tonight we won't be able to make our reservation. I tried to convince her to let me off but, she wouldn't have it. I'm on inventory for 3 weeks now. 🙄

Really on Valentine's day?! I should go up there and give her a peace of my mind. I'm tired of her doing that to you.

I think that would make it worse unfortunately darling.We could order take out and watch each others favorite movies. I know it's not what we planned but, will still be together.

That sounds good, we can always go another time and as long as i get to see you and give you your gift I won't tear off Donna's head. I love you babe see you tonight.

I can't wait to give you your gift and I love you so much! Laters gators 🐊 ❤️

After while crocodile 🐊 ❤️

You were gonna kill Donna if you ever meet her. Steven was so excited to take you to a French restaurant he found down town. You where a little nervous to go to it but as Valentine's day got closer you started to get excited, and seeing your adorable boyfriend's eyes light up when he talked about it made your heart swell. Untill Donna and what you assume to be fate settled to being a bitch today. You knew Steven was crushed. And you where sad too but, hopefully your gift and the little goodie basket you made him would make up for it.

You decided to try and calm yourself down and have a little spa day and take your time getting ready. You made yourself a bubble bath and put a face mask on. As soon as you sunk down into the warm water a crack of thunder and the pounding of rain made its presence known. You tried to look on the Bright side maybe you could kiss Steven in the rain later tonight. Like in all those rom coms you use to watch as a little girl. Sinking even further into the water you hoped that the day would go by fast. You where never the biggest fan of valentine's day, but the one time you actually get excited for it the, god's decided to knock you down a peg. Despite the sour mood you where gonna give your best for Steven and yourself.

After doing a normal bath routine you got out and whiped the fog off your mirror. Finished your skincare and, slapping some makeup on you made your way to your bedroom.

Sitting on your bed you stared at your closet debating on what to wear. Sense you where going to stay at Steven's flat, you decided on a nice comfy top and black leggings. After putting on your outfit your cat Cheshire a somewhat cubby Ginger cat, jumped on the bed. He greated you with a small meow. "What do you think ches? Do you think Steven will like it?" you gave a small turn for your furry companion. He gave you a few blinks and jumped down to rub and wind himself in-between your ankles. "I'll take that as a yes." You picked him up and gave him some head pats. "Ches im gonna go to Steven's flat. Man the house while I'm gone." All you got was intense purring in response. After putting him down he scurried to the arm chair he called his bed to watch you leave.

Grabbing a rain coat,Steven's gifts, and your bag. You said bye to cheshire and made your way to the elevator. You decided to go to the grocery store and pick up things to make dinner for the two of you tonight. You shot a quick text to tell Steven.

Hey baby I'm gonna go to the store and pick up stuff for dinner, I don't wanna press our luck with take out.

Oh gosh that sounds amazing darling! I can't wait to see you tonight I miss you so much. It's been such a rubbish day today. 😣

I know I miss you too and I'm gonna come get you at 10:00 it's raining really hard and I don't want you to walk in it.

That would be great , it started raining on my lunch break, my jacket got soaked. I can't wait for this shift to be over. Oh luv don't look in the closet your present is in there and, I want it to be a surprise!

I promise I won't look in the closet scouts honor, and I'm sorry your jacket got soaked babe, we haven't had the best luck today. 😞

No we haven't but, well get to see each other tonight and I'm off tomorrow thankfully. I don't know how I managed that but, I got to go Donna is coming. See you soon laters gators ❤️🐊

After while crocodile 🐊 ❤️

After texting him on the elevator, you drove swiftly to the nearest grocery store. Getting out and covering your self with your jacket you ran into the store. Trying to not get drenched.

The florescent lights of the store blinded you as you grabbed a shopping chart. It took you 20 minuets to find the ingredients for a vegan pasta carbonara and a vegan red velvet cake. You waisted some time getting some candles, and a new throw blanket for you and Steven too cuddle under for your movie night later tonight. After looking at the clearance racks and milling about, You whent through the self checkout and made your way to Steven's flat. You where glad that at least your shopping whent right.

You walked into the lobby and saw that the elevator was out of service. Of course it was you rolled your eyes and started to march yourself and your bags up to Steven's floor. A few of them almost dropped but, you managed to catch them before they kamikazed down the steps. After fumbling with the key for a good few minutes you walked into Stevens flat and breathed for the first time today.

You put the groceries up, set up the candles and blanket you bought, and hid your gift. It was still early afternoon and you had a while before you could start dinner and go get Steven. You fed Gus, watched some movies, retouched your make up, started to read a book you picked up from a self got bored, and watched TV again untill 9:00.

You cleaned the area you settled in and, made a vegan pasta carbonara and, a vegan red velvet cake which turned out pretty good by the looks of it.

You had just put the noodles into the sauce when you looked at clock on the stove. 9:54 your heart sped up as you turned the burner off, covered the pasta with a lid and rushed out the door. You practically flew down the steps to get to your car. You couldn't wait untill you saw Steven.

After a few traffic violations and about 5 different songs you made it to the museum. You walked up the steps and made it into the lobby. You looked for Steven and tried to walk to the gift shop "hey miss where closed!" A rude and bored voice called out to you.

You looked over to the booth where the security guard sat. You assumed this is J.B. He didn't even look up at you when he spoke just at the phone he had in his hands. "I know I'm here to pick up Steven." He raised a eye brow in confusion "you mean Scotty? You crossed your arms and rolled your eyes. "No I mean Steven can you not lift your head enough to read a name tag?" He finally looked at you it was in shock but, he looked at you.

You heard foot steps racing towards you. After you snapped at him. " your here!" Steven all but, tackled you into a hug. You melted against eachother. "Come on Steven let's get out of here." He gave your cheek a kiss " I couldn't agree More." After flipping off j.b while Steven wasn't looking you made your way to the car.

After a few more traffic violations you and Steven where at his flat in record time. " Love do you normally drive that fast?" Steven looked at you somewhat concerned while digging his keys out. "just when I want to be with you." You blinked up at him lovingly. He gave a small chuckle "very funny your not gonna cute your way out of this one but, sense it's Valentine's day I'll let it slide for today." You shrugged " I've missed you and I got impatient what can I say." Steven looked over his shoulder while unlocking the door. " I guess I can't blame you there. I missed you too."

The smell of the dinner you cooked wafted you and Stevens way as the door swung open. "Darling that smells wonderful." You grabbed Stevens hand and led him to the kitchen. "Let's celebrate we've waited long enough." After grabbing plates the both you dugg in to the pasta like wolves neither of you realized how hungry you where. "Oh Steven before I forget I want to give you your gift." Steven nodded "so do I" he ran to the closet and grabbed yours. While your pulled out his from your bag. "So can I give yours first?" You asked. "Yes love go ahead."

You handed him the little gift basket you made. His eyes lit up like a kids on Christmas. As he opened the Velvet box. "Oh it's a fountain pen. I've always wanted one of these. It's lovely thank you." You could feel your self blush again. "I know, you always talked about it and it made me think of you. once you get use to writing with it'll only work with the pressure that you use so it'll always remember you." Steve looked like he had hearts in his eyes. "I- love that's beautiful thank you this is one of the best gifts I've ever gotten." You gave him a kiss. "I'm glad you like it. I got you ink and some other stuff for it too." He handed his gift to you. "I can't wait to write with it and your gift I well, it's a thank you for listening to me rambling about egypt all the time." Opening the small jewelry box you pulled out a solid gold necklace with a bar of with what you assume to be a phrase in hieroglyphics. Steven cleared his throat while you stared at it in awe. "It's says I love you always. I know it's cheesy but, I really do love you and I thought Id get it in writing." You could feel tears well up in your eyes. "Oh Steven it's beautiful I'm never gonna take it off." You gave Steven a kiss while he put it on for you.

The rest of the night you and Steven stayed under the blanket you bought cuddling and making out while you watched movies. For the first valentines as a couple it turned out all right despite the bumps along the way.

[letarasstuff]

Unbreakable Bond

(A/N): This is based on this post and this tiktok

Summary: A big age gap between Aaron's children doesn't have to mean that they are unable to form a strong bond

Warnings: Mentions of Haley's death and failed relationships

Wordcount: 1.8k

✨Masterlist✨

_________________________________

His life took turns Aaron never expected. It’s not the “Oh, mh, well that was unexpected”-type of turns, I talk about the “God played Cards Against Humanity with angels and decided to make it happen for someone”-type. But looking back he would not want to change a thing.

After Haley and Beth he was convinced that God, the Universe, something out there shared the opinion that romantic love isn’t the right thing for him and Aaron accepted that fact. Even more when he and Jack went into witness protection. I mean, when you are worried about the life of your family being in danger because of a stalker, you don’t think about the beautiful neighbor, who lives next door, right? Right?

Well, without going into too much detail, Hotch did think about her and she about him and vice versa. Everything went good until Aaron received the message that the team found the stalker and that it was safe to come back. He decided to come clean to his girlfriend. They talked about the possibility of moving back to Quantico.

In the end they decided in favor of the move, the final argument was the surprising announcement of her being pregnant. Hotch wants to raise their youngest where his and Jack’s roots are located. But he decides against taking a position at the BAU, instead taking a desk job in order to be more at home. He also has the opportunity to work from home after little (Y/N) was born and continues to do so until she is old enough to go to Kindergarten. Even then he takes two days the week where he stays home. Aaron learned from his decisions and mistakes he made in the past and wants to live up to them and be a better father and husband than before.

And Hotch keeps it to this day, six years later. It’s (Y/N)��s first day of school, while Jack just graduated high school and goes off to college in a few weeks. Even though they have an age gap from twelve and a half years, their parents are sure there are no other siblings with such a strong bond.

Ever since his baby sister’s birth Jack is her biggest supporter, protector and friend. Her first word was his name, though it was more of a “ACK!”, but that’s the best nickname he ever got. As soon as (Y/N) was old enough to comprehend the concept of movies, he introduced her to Star Wars. Since then lightsaber wars out of cardboard pipes are not uncommon. Last Halloween they even dressed up as Chewbakka and Han Solo. You get three guesses on who was who.

“JACK!” (Y/N) runs into her big brother’s room with an excited expression on her face. “Daddy promised to buy me a real lightsaber after I read ten books! With lights and sounds and all! Isn’t that cool?” Jack smiles. Aaron did a similar thing with him. For a certain amount of books he got a reward they discussed beforehand. This way he felt motivated to read and improved writing and reading skills.

“This is awesome. I think that means we have to go book shopping together, what do you think?” (Y/N) is not only the cool kid that has an older brother, she is also the cool kid, whose older brother has a drivers license, a car and a part time job. She nods with big eyes, speechless, because the offer sounds like heaven to her. Getting books and one on one time with Jack after he was really busy with school for weeks? This has to be heaven.

“Ok, then you put your outside clothes on and I’ll tell Dad about our plan.” At that the little girl rushes to her room, not wanting to waste any more time. Jack makes his way down to the kitchen, where Aaron wipes the table from lunch down.

“Dad, I take (Y/N) to this bookstore in DC and we’ll probably go eat ice cream after that. Is that alright?” Hotch looks up at his son. It still feels like yesterday as he told Haley that Gideon is a big no as a baby name. Now he is all grown up and just a few weeks away from the next big chapter in his life.

“Of course, just let me get my wall-” Jack cuts him off. “No need, I want to use this as a kind of goodbye thing. At least until Thanksgiving.” Aaron knows what he means. It’s his last day before he goes off to college and just a couple more until the first classes begin. The family still hasn’t told their youngest exactly what’s going on. Else she would refuse to go to school and go on with her day, insisting on using all the time they have until Jack drives off.

Two hours later the siblings leave the bookstore, both of them having a bag in their hands. Of course Jack's heavier, but both he and the cashier assured (Y/N) that they lift the same amount of weight.

“Uncle Spence will be excited when I tell him that I read Harry Potter, he told me so many good things about it”, the girl gushes. Jack nods, indicating that he is listening. Of course they also picked books that are not that advanced. Still, no sister of his shall grow up without knowing the beauty of the wizarding world. Also, secretly he is hoping for her to turn out as nerdy as he is so they get more things to talk about. His next step is superheroes, especially the Marvel ones.

They converse until they get to an ice cream parlor and order both their usuals. “Do you think you are ready for me to tell you something important?” The older one asks after they sit down at a table. (Y/N) nods, confusion taking over her face.

“Uhm, you know how I graduated from high school? I’m done with school, but I want to get a degree, but for that I have to go to college. It’s pretty far away so I can’t come home for a few months. But I’m back home when Thanksgiving is and also for Christmas.” It doesn’t matter what Jack says, a sad frown has formed on the little one’s face. “Oh. And after Christmas, will you leave again?” He nods and explains when he is off from college and when not.

“We can always skype and write letters. How does that sound? And when you get your first phone, we can even text.” That (Y/N) lights up a bit. For her first year of school she got a stationary set and is eager to use it to this day.

“I’m going to miss you so much”, she says hugging her big brother. Jack pats her back. “I’ll miss you, too.”

The goodbye the next day is a heartfelt matter. Everybody cries, especially (Y/N). She can’t fathom a scenario where her brother isn’t there for her all the time.

The following weeks are also hard for the family. The youngest refuses to sleep alone for the first three days after Jack’s leave. She is more closed off and mainly just does her school work or reads the books he bought for her. By the time Thanksgiving is only away for another two weeks, (Y/N) has read through all of them at least two times.

Her father already ordered the lightsaber he promised her. Unfortunately shipping takes several months, so the little girl still has to wait patiently for her reward to arrive. In the meantime she works on getting the next and she is already pretty close to the comic book collection she wants.

“Sweetheart, can you set the table, please? Your Mom will be here soon from grocery shopping and she will need help getting them from the car into the house”, Hotch calls for his daughter while stirring in a pot.

The little girl nods, putting her stationary set and pens aside to do as her father asked. She is in the middle of answering her brother’s last letter, telling him that she is now the one that usually has to read aloud for the class because of her advanced skill for a first grader.

Just as she sets the last piece of silverware down the doorbell rings. “Sweetie, can you please open it? This should be your mother.” Happily (Y/N) runs up and turns the door knob. Over the last few months she hit a small growing spurt and is finally tall enough to reach it without standing on her tippy toes.

“Mo-” She nearly chokes on her own saliva. The one at the door is definitely not her mother. “JACK!” (Y/N) runs up to him and jumps onto his leg. “Hey Princess. I thought now that you read your books, we need to hold the most amazing lightsaber fight in history.” With a mischievous smile he pulls two from his back, giving one to his baby sister.

It is the most epic fight in history between an elementary schooler and a college boy. They can only be stopped by their parents announcing that it is a tie between both of them and that they have to sit down, else the food gets cold.

The following weeks mostly consist of (Y/N)’s joyous laughs and cuddling with her big brother. She even insists on him sleeping with her in her much smaller bed. On his last night before going back to college, the little girl turns to him in the middle of watching her favorite movie in the living room.

“Do you promise not to forget me when you are away? Because I alway think about you and tell my friends so much about you. I told them you are a hero, my hero, just like Daddy. They wanna meet you because of that.” Jack has to hold back tears at her statement.

“I also think of you so much. All of my friends at college are pretty jealous of me having such a sweet baby sister. Maybe one time you can visit me and I can introduce you to them.” The thought of that makes (Y/N) smile and is a little consolation to the thought of her brother leaving again.

Aaron watches the interaction going down, happy to see the strong bond between his children, despite their age gap. This is nothing like he and Sean were and that is a relief for him and the worries he had in the beginning. It is a sign that he did do some things right as a father.

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