#tbh i didn’t even know they existed until today

[00kittenz]

── smarty. ( pjs ) 🪷

๑ Jay has had enough of your brattiness for today, there’s only so much he can take.. so he may as well teach you a little lesson, right?

pair: bf!jay ㅊ gf!reader | warnings: smut, angst (??), small age gap (jay is 5 years older), d/s dynamics, bratty!reader, slight ddlg themes, spanking, p.ssy slapping, oral (f. rec), edging, crying, daddy kink, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, reader is implied to be a curvy/thick girly but anyone can read tbh ! | words: 1.7k

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“what’d i tell you about saying things like that?”

“i don’t care, it’s true !” you snarled, if it hadn’t been made clear how aggravated you were, it sure as hell was now.

you and jay spent the weekend with his parents at a resort somewhere in jeju. everything was going fine at first, that was until an unexpected guest invited themselves to join your little ‘family trip’. her name was hanna ? halie ? you don’t know and you didn’t care. what fogged your mind for the rest of the trip was how she clung up onto jay like the smoke to dry ice.

what agitated you even more about her was her need to call you out asking you a million questions about your clothing and how she’s so shocked that jay settled down with someone like you. all of her backhanded compliments would rub you the wrong way and she just gave you weird vibes. it’s as if you weren’t “pretty enough” to date him; according to her at least. don’t get it twisted, jay definitely shut all of that down. he wouldn’t let any woman pin you as anything less than you were. a fucking goddess.

“why’re you acting like this? what’d i even do?” he paused. “what haneul does has nothing to do with me.” he continued, eyes focused on the road. he’s become fed up with your constant nagging. maybe it’s just his level of maturity that makes him unable to see it, but he doesn’t understand why you worry so much, it was as if every ‘i love you the most’ ‘you’re my favorite’ ‘it’s only you’s’ didn’t matter. he felt like his words held no weight whatsoever.

“nothing to do with you ? hah, you’re the one who let her bombard our vacation. might i add family vacation.” you sterned, shifting your body closer to the door of the vehicle, looking out the window.

“what did you expect me to do y/n? she’s been a family friend for years now, i can’t just tell her to fuck off and go somewhere else. she’d go crying to my mom about how mean i was to her and that’s just extra drama that i don’t need right now..” he exhaled heavily, glancing at your avoidant figure. when he got no reply from you he left it be, turning up the music to avoid the awkward atmosphere the both of you created.

๑ ๑ ๑

“babe, can you pass me my frames ?” jay dared to ask even though you’d been ignoring him since the incident from earlier.

“y/n.” “please ?” watching as you hadn’t budged even a bit he grew upset. it was already bad enough for him that you were acting like he didn’t even exist, which was fine. though, he wouldn’t just take your constant disrespect.

so he got rid of what seemed to be your main source of attention. your phone.

“what the fuck, jay !” you reached at him. “give me my phone !”

“jay !” he mocked, his voice altering to sound high pitched like yours. “don’t you see that i’m trying put things back together? why do you have to act like such a child.” he was disappointed in you. you were a fully legal adult, yet your actions said differently.

“strip.” jay broke the silence you let fill the room. you were hesitant, and confused, but at least you were actually looking at him now. “you heard me, now.” his brow raised as his mouth slipped a scoff.

were you just gonna let him boss you around ? definitely not. were you feeling intimidated ? yes. but your pride stood stronger than the trouble you’d get into. you breathe heavily finding your way to the door of your bedroom for your dramatic escape; until you felt a tug at your arm and then the softness of your mattress, cosigned with the weight of your built boyfriend.

“i guess i have to do everything myself today, huh ?” jay sounded calm but you knew otherwise, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t let this play out just to see this side of him. ‘cause you did. hell, you felt your wetness dripping past the wall of your ass, the sticky sensation sending your body chills.

the jingle of his belt caught your attention, but before you could even glance at him, your face was meshed with the comforter of your shared bed. you shriek.

“jay— !”

“oh now you wanna talk ? huh, funny.” his hand sent goosebumps throughout your body as he runs his palm over your clothed ass. “it’s a shame you don’t listen. now your pretty tails gonna be all red.” he pinched the fabric of your skirt flicking it upwards onto your lower back.

“ ‘m sorry..” you uttered feeling him tug at your underwear.

now, jay was ignoring you. all you felt was him adjusting your waist, so that your ass sat in the air.

“‘m really sorry..ja—” you pause, shrieking at the leather that came in contact with your silky skin. if you could describe the feel of it, it’s like a slow burn, a slow burning that spread like wildfire everytime he unleashed the branded weapon on you.

discipline is a topic your parents took lightly. yeah, they disciplined you, but it was never a ‘bend over my knee’ type of discipline. more like, every morning you wake up ‘sit in that corner’ type of discipline. jay never went soft on you when it came down to it. he wanted to make sure you never do whatever you’re in trouble for again.

“crying ? what’re you crying for,” jay never pushed aside your emotions, he had to hear you out or his guilt would eat him alive. hearing you sniffle shot a sort of worry in him.

“listen, you put yourself in this situation—” he paused throwing his belt. “you already know what happens when you wanna act like a brat.” he palmed your cunt. he wasn’t going to baby you this time, that’s all he ever did. maybe this was partially his fault too..

subconsciously, you felt yourself grinding on his hand. you were needy, you always were after a punishment, even if he didn’t know. but now, you were on display. there was no way he wouldn’t find out.

“you’re such a fucking slut,” his thumb caressing your entrance, pushing your sweetness through your dewy folds. “already so wet for daddy, hm?” his thumb slid through your sticky walls in a in and out motion. your slick caking his finger everytime he pulled it from inside you.

“please..” was a constant that came from your mouth. you didn’t know what you were pleading for. more ? less ? what was it ? you only knew that he made you feel so good. the look of him drenched you. you wanted him to slut you out. ruin you.

“please ? please what?” he couldn’t help but snort at you. the mere thought that you can get what you want with just a please— scratch that. the thought that you think you can get whatever you want after testing his patience, made him laugh. “please.. forgive me ?”

“i dunno..m” you slurred, you were estatic. just his thumb, making you feel so dumb. it made you feel small, like you were nothing but a tiny spectacle of dust.

“you dunno..? wan’ me to help you find out ?” you were flipped onto your back before you knew it. once you saw the shift in his eyes change, you knew what he was prone to do. the thought itself making you spread your legs wide open.

you even made the mistake of trying to rub yourself. that quickly got disposed.

“you lost your damn mind ?” his hand reached down to slap your weeping pussy.

“baby, i can’t wait.. please!” you whined watching as he kneeled down, face between your begging thighs, hands cupping each pretty chunk of flesh.

“but you can.” “matter of fact, you will.” he blew onto your core. the cold sensation bringing your hips to a jolt. his eyes scanned your smaller figure watching every expression that played out on your face, then down to your breasts. “lift up your shirt, let me see your beautiful body, baby.”

earning yourself a “good little girl.” when you comply.

๑ ๑ ๑

you hadn’t gotten a break since he started his mouth on you. drinking in your first orgasm, then the second. seems like you were now on your third.

“fuck.. jay.” you groaned your hips aching to move in his grasp. you’d try not to breakdown whenever his nose came in touch with your throbbing clit.

“you done ? talk to me baby.” he growled against your heat. his warm breath made you thirsty. he was eating you like it was his last supper. ripping you to absolute shreds.

“i’m gonna come, daddy..” your legs were shaking, your voice was whiney, and you needed an exhale. once he started sucking on your clit your back arched. at him, the feel, and the thought of him, making you feel.

“yeah, you gonna come for me ?”

“yeah.. wan’ come for you..” you spoke through labored breaths. once your moaning got louder, he stopped. he’d love to make you come, third times a charm. but he wasn’t going to. he basically lured you in just to trick you.

“jayy !” “it was right there, i was about to cum !” you childishly whined at the begging sensation between your legs. the quivering feeling making you force your legs closed to suppress the throbbing feel. you felt his hungry stare on you. you knew he wanted you. it’s when you realized this wasn’t an after punishment treat. he was edging you. right after overstimulating you. how cruel..

“aww, look at you ! my pretty girl..” he pouted at you, your sad, twitching state. you were groaning for more as he watched you. pitying you. how could you have thought it was over? after a mere spanking ? silly.

“i guess you really thought huh.” he cackled. “ooh ! should we order room service.. i’m kinda hungry. you ?” he got up to go and search for the phone.

maybe you did deserve this. shouldn’t be acting so damn bratty all the time, even if it’s in your nature to piss him off. now look at you. eyes all watery, and a mess between your legs.

oh well, not his problem.

[glitchinginhyperfixis]

guys help i accidentally liked a cherry post on accident bc i skimmed the post and didn’t read it all the way 😖

[55sturn]

✮ SWALLOWIN’ MY PRIDE

series masterlist!

pairing: boston bruins player!chris sturniolo x fem!reader!

synopsis: in which chris is forced to swallow his pride as he comes to terms with the new that y/n has shared, realizing it’s not just her fault. however when he mentions the alternatives, he fails to see how much it hurts his girlfriend.

warnings: swearing, angst, chris not wanting a kid, verbal arguments, big talks about abortions and giving the kid up for adoption, mentions and descriptions of vomiting, a loooot of angst tbh.

important things to note: this is a heavy chapter so please keep that in mind if you choose to keep reading, i’ve done my part and have warned you about what this chapter entails so please do yours and close out of this fic if you cannot handle those topics. i am not your mother i cannot stop you, but if you choose to keep going despite being uncomfortable with the things i’ve warned you about, you are not allowed to get upset with anyone but yourself. enjoy<3

THIRD PERSON POV

chris was left utterly speechless as he stared at the thin plastic stick in his hand. the only thing running through his mind, was “what am i going to do? i just signed the contract today?” he felt guilty being so absorbed in his doubts about his career but it was something he had worked for his entire life. he knew his concerns were selfish, he knew that, but he couldn’t stop worrying about them.

the words “we’re pregnant, chris.” rang in his ears like a bell chiming, he felt his breath get stuck in his throat and he wasn’t able to breathe. he quickly shifted y/n off his lap so he could begin pacing, he held his head in his hands as his skates clunked against the padded locker room floor.

“what the fuck are we going to do y/n?” chris spits, his voice broken and unsteady as he looks at his girlfriend, her eyes red with unshed tears as she shook her head softly and shrugged.

“i don’t know chris.”

“why weren’t you careful?” chris exclaims, unintentionally putting all the blame on her as her head snaps up, her brows furrowed tightly as she breathes out a listless laugh.

“how is this all my fault?”

“i’m not saying it’s your fault. but why didn’t you just get an abortion?”

“in case you forgot what you were taught in fifth grade health class, it takes two people to make a baby, chris. you were the one that wanted to hit it raw and you promised to pull out but clearly you didn’t. and i didn’t want to abort it without your input because this child is half of you, too. and i would not be able to sit through that alone!“ she scoffs, tears dripping down her cheeks as she stares up at him, guilt and regret chipping away at the slight glimmer of hope that chris would be okay with it that she held.

“i just signed a good contract baby, i can’t miss my games for this shit.” chris sighs, his heart rate slowing down, but his mind was still racing, leaving him blind to the internal battle his girlfriend was facing.

he felt sick, he had everything mapped out for the next five years and this baby completely threw a wrench in everything that he had meticulously planned. there was no way a baby this early in his career would look good, it’d make him look reckless and uncaring about his job.

“do you not think i’ve been thinking about that, chris? that’s the only thing i’ve been thinking about since i found out or even had the slightest idea i was pregnant, i have been terrified of derailing the life plans you’ve set up for yourself and i don’t know what the fuck to do but what i do know, is that we’re pregnant and we have to make a decision about this. so until you’ve processed this, you can stay with one of your brothers, i will be waiting at home.” y/n replies, her voice gradually getting quieter and breaking even more as she finishes. wiping her tears, she quickly exists the room, the need to vomit overcoming her.

her mind wouldn’t stop racing. it brought every possible scenario to the surface and she was beyond scared. what was she going to do? chris sure as hell didn’t seem to want the baby, and she thought she didn’t either but talking about it to chris had her realizing that she wants a family more than anything.

as she knelt in front of the toilet, she couldn’t help but laugh internally. finding out you’re expecting a child was supposed to be a joyous and happy time. finding out that you’re carrying a life that is half of yourself and the person you’re in love with, the person you’re fully committed to for life, was supposed to have you feeling over the moon. and instead, it had y/n’s stomach twisting with guilt, regret, heartache, and distress.

ash she wiped her mouth and flushed the toilet, she sat on the edge of it, letting her tears fall as she let the feelings of hopelessness and loss fully consume her heart. would she really see this pregnancy to term if chris didn’t want anything to do with her and the baby? if she did, would she let chris back into her life when he decides he wants a family? or would he seek a family somewhere else?

“how the fuck am i going to survive this without him?” she whispered to herself, quickly exiting the public washroom and making a beeline for the front entrance.

chris on the other hand, was stoic as he stared at the wall opposite of him, the thin plastic stick beside him taunting him and his mind, almost as if it was telling him that he was acting selfishly. instead of comforting his girlfriend, who was as equally terrified of their recent news as chris, if not more? he blamed her. he yelled at her.

he callously told her to abort their baby to be. to get rid of the life growing inside her as if it meant nothing. as if it wasn’t the product of two people that loved each other deeply. even if it wasn’t planned or considered, that child to be was still the result of chris and y/n’s love. of the fact that they held each other so closely that they made love without any preventative measures. but chris couldn’t look at it that way, he didn’t want to.

his focus was on his career, hockey was everything to him. it made him everything he is. but was hockey really the only thing that mattered to chris? as he mulled over the answer, images of y/n sobbing as she held the freshly positive test, of her sobbing and scared in front of him waiting for him to pull her into his arms in the middle of that locker room flash through his mind. he felt guilty, he hadn’t even hugged her as she sobbed, he so badly wishes he could rewind the clock a few minutes so he could react differently but he couldn’t.

he knew he wanted a family at some point in his life, but now? it was so early. he wanted to bask in all the glory of being the newest and youngest star on the bruins without the responsibilities of his personal life hanging over his head. but that wasn’t possible.

as his team made their way down the hall, chris shoved the test into the side pocket of his hockey bag and plastered a fake smile on his face. the team cheered and hollered as they had won the game. chris joined in on the festivities, briefly forgetting the decision he had to make as the team got dressed in their suits and dress clothes, deciding to hit the bar in the lounge above the rink nd celebrate their win and landing bracket in the playoffs.

y/n was in the complete opposite state, she sat at the table, the meal she had prepped hours ago as soon as she got home after leaving the game early sat on the table in front of her. it had grown cold and stale as she tried to bring the urge to eat to life but she couldn’t bear the thought of choking back her food. she hated eating without chris. she knew he wasn’t going to join her after she told him to stay with one his brothers, but out of pure muscle memory she made a plate for him and it sat across the table from her, taunting her, as if to say “this is what your future will look like if chris decides he doesn’t want the baby.” and it broke her heart into a million shards.

could she really handle a life without him? they’ve been together for so long as it is. was it worth it to go through everything that they have already, just for a child to tear them apart? she didn’t know the answer to that and she didn’t want to. she hoped that somehow, chris’ mind would change and he would have this great epiphany and realize he wants this, the family life with y/n.

she knew how important this spot on the bruins’ team was to chris, she knew that more than anybody else. but was it more important than a life with the woman he called his soulmate? was his career more important to him than his relationship?

y/n, truthfully, had began to believe it was. he would call off dates and anniversary dinners to go hang out with the team, he would come home late the nights he promised to be home early. he put so much of their time together on the back burner, and maybe this child was the wake-up call she needed. maybe she wasn’t cut out for the life of dating a superstar hockey player.

sighing, she cleared the plates off, putting the leftovers in an air-tight container and leaving them for her or, hopefully, chris to eat another day. she quickly loaded the dishwasher and started it before cleaning the rest of the kitchen. as she had finished, she flicked off the main kitchen light, leaving the light above the stove on so that when chris came home, if he had made up his mind yet, he wouldn’t be surrounded by complete darkness. but she knew in the back of her mind, chris coming home tonight was just wishful thinking.

as she laid in bed, she scrolled through instagram, chris’ story updates catching her eye. pressing down on his profile circle surrounded by a pinkish purple ring, she was met with the sight of chris and john shot gunning beer in their suits, leaving her slightly hurt that instead of talking about things with her or his brothers he chose to party with his team. she knew that making an appearance at the after parties was important, she had just hoped their situation was more important. but refusing to let herself dwell on what she meant to chris, she rolled over and willed herself to sleep.

it had been a few days since her confession to chris and she had yet to hear even just a single word from him. and the silence was killing her. after her doctors appointment, which confirmed that she was in fact two months along, she had received texts of congratulations and more from his family so she assumed he had said something and maybe he wasn’t completely ashamed of what was happening, but she had a gnawing feeling of doubt in her stomach telling her that wasn’t the case.

“matt i don’t know what to think.” chris sighed, looking to his more level-headed brother for advice in this situation.

“well chris, do you really want her to abort it? like can you live with the fact that you’re putting her through that, you know that she’s completely all for it, but it’s different when it’s the one going through it. so would you be able to live with the fact that you’re pushing her to take away this chance, both of yours and hers, at a family right now?”

“well when you put it that way-“

“and who’s to say that you won’t be looking at having a family the same way down the line if, let’s say, she aborts the baby now and this entire thing happens again? would you put her through it twice? when you could just as easily implement all the later plans with your career that included a family into your plans for now. it would be much easier to maneuver things around right because the ink on your contract has barely dried yet. you do it later down the line and shit could go up in flames. but if you’re still dead set on pushing her to an abortion, by all means do it. it’s up to you man but from the way you’ve talk about it, y/n wants to have a family so what you’re doing is most likely killing her, and if you pushing her to do this wrecks your relationship, you won’t find another girl to love you the way she does. and i know you didn’t actually ask for it, but my opinion is that you’re being a fucking idiot. you and i both know that all you’ve wanted with y/n is to raise a family. you talked about your future kids’ names with her two months into the start of your relationship. so i’m not sure why you’re doing all this shit, chris.” matt rambled, his words cutting directly into the flesh of chris’ heart, he knew matt was right. every word he spoke nothing but truth clinging to it. so why was he putting both him and y/n, mainly y/n, through all of this? sighing, chris nodded and thanked him for the advice before plucking his keys off the counter of matt’s kitchen before heading out the door and climbing into his car.

chris made quick work of driving home to y/n, he felt so unbelievably guilty for leaving her alone with her thoughts for as long as he had. as he stepped into their shared home, he felt like an intruder, he didn’t feel like himself, because in what world would chris, the same chris who is so unbelievably and irrevocably in love with y/n, push her to terminate their child? chris should’ve been ecstatic and sobbing over the news. instead he let his job cloud his judgement and focus, and he felt terrible.

“baby?” chris calls out, quickly climbing the entryway stairs and standing in the main hallway, waiting for y/n to answer.

“in here.” she calls back, her voice tired and strained from all the crying she had done. as chris rounds the corner into their room, his heart breaks at the sight of her curled up on his side of the bed in his hoodie.

“i am so sorry y/n, i’ve been an asshole.”

“i’ll say.” she whispers, shifting back to her side of the bed as chris climbs in beside her.

“i want to apologize for blaming you, it’s not your fault. and for suggesting an abortion without actually hearing what you want. if you want one, i’ll support you. i talked to matt and he made me realize what a jackass i’ve been. if you genuinely want this baby, then i do too. i love you, and i want you to be safe and happy. and if having a family makes you happy, then i’m willing to raise this baby with you because in all honesty, i do want this baby.”

“what about your career?”

“we’ll figure that out when we need to.”

“okay. i love you.”

“i love you forever and a day, y/n. i’m so sorry i’ve been so shitty, i was scared and lashed out on you when i should’ve acknowledged that you were scared too, i shouldn’t have let you deal with it on your own.” chris hums, wrapping his arms around her as she dries her tears and rest her head against his chest.

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[tteodoroki]

the dragon’s devotion [zhongli x creator!reader]

cw: obsessive themes, cult themes, religious themes, slight yandere themes I guess, not beta read we die like Makoto

notes: I just love the concept of Zhongli being the Creator’s most devoted follower. Idk why but it gives Gomez Addams in an unhealthy way tbh.

There is an old tale in Liyue, one that parents pass down to their children. It’s a story of love, of a being that tamed a wild beast. One where a proud dragon kneeled before his own God and in return, found love.

The Dragon’s Devotion.

That’s what the Liyue citizens called it, and it’s the name of the play that is put on every year during the Lantern Rite festival. Songs can be heard of this tale from Mt. Aozang all the way to Liyue Harbor, a true testament of the adoration and reverence that blossomed between two ancient beings. It started years before the Archon War, before the seven nations were even created. Morax, the God of Geo, and the [Y/N], the Divine Creator. In his youth, he was arrogant and insatiable, hungry for war and bloodshed. Until you descended Teyvat one day, where the Lord of Geo found you in what is now known as Luhua Pool, bathing in the crystal clear waters. It is said that your beauty and divinity brought him to his knees, where the proud God worshipped you and begged for your forgiveness for his arrogance and brash ways. Being the Divine Creator, you simply smiled and told him that you cherished and loved him. A bond was formed that day, one that soothed the beast inside the young God.

That’s the story that the public knows, anyway. You, however, are familiar with a much different, a more twisted story.

The basis of the story that today’s Liyue citizens are most familiar with is true to some extent. You did meet Morax in Luhua Pool, and he did beg for forgiveness. But you didn’t fall in love with him, at least not in the way everyone believes. That’s the version that the mortals of Teyvat like to believe in. Morax, one of the eldest and strongest Archons to exist. A proud man with an unshakeable faith, has been your most devoted follower ever since he took his first breath in Teyvat. He held you close to his heart. Everything he did, was to honor you. Even the actions he took during the Archon War, in his mind it was all done in your name. Every life taken and drop of blood spilled was for you, his beloved. His Creator.

“My Morax,” You whisper softly, your hand reaching forward to gently caress the Archon’s face. Morax knelt before you, his polearm laying at your feet. It reeked of death, the gold blade stained with the blood of your people. Your heart ached, mourning the countless lives that were lost. “What have you done?” Your voice trembles, eyes full of sorrow. Morax brings his gaze to look at you, his heart shattering at the look in your eyes. Was this not what you wanted? To be worshipped as you rightfully deserved? To be honored?

“This was all for you, my love.” He said, his golden eyes looking up at you with complete adoration. But you can see past that. In his eyes, you can see his true feelings. It’s not reverence or adoration or even love; it’s an obsession. In your naivety, you failed to see the truth in the beginning of your relationship, his growing obsession. The spark in his eyes was no longer there, in its place was a roaring fire that could not be quelled.

“Your obsession is clouding your judgement.” You say, moving your hand from his face. Morax watches your every movement with bated breath. Would you punish him for his transgressions? He will gladly take whatever you decided to do to him. In his mind, he deserved it for upsetting you. You pick up the polearm from the ground, the weight heavy and unfamiliar in your hands. You made this for him, your beloved Morax. It was supposed to protect the mortals of Teyvat, not destroy them. What was supposed to be a symbol of strength was soaked in the blood of your people.

“Punish me however you see fit, my love.” Morax says, golden hues watching you carefully as you look over the weapon you so carefully crafted him. Would you impale him with his own weapon? A fitting punishment, truly.

“No matter what you do, I could never harm you, my dear Morax.” You smile sadly, dropping the polearm to the ground. There was an ache in your chest, something akin to loss and grief. But at the root of it was anger. Not at Morax or any of the other Gods, but at yourself. This could have all been avoided if you didn’t descend to Teyvat. You would never have awoken this darkness inside of your beloved Morax if you stayed out of the mortal world.

“I fear that I have spent too much time here, in Teyvat.” You say, turning your back to the God of Geo in favor of gazing at the scenery below you. Beautiful glazed lilies bloomed around your feet, and you could faintly hear the rush of a nearby stream. You would miss this, you would miss your creations.

“What are you saying, my love?” There was an edge to Morax’s voice, and if you didn’t know any better, you would have thought he sounded almost broken. The irony, really. The great Morax, the God of War, crumbling before you at the mere thought of you no longer gracing him with your presence.

“My time on Teyvat has come to an end. I have spent too much time in the mortal world.” You say, your voice as soft as the petals of the glazed lilies in front of you. You would miss the pleasures of gathering silk flowers and violet grass. Maybe in a few millennia you would visit again, and hopefully all of this could be forgotten.

“My love, please, don’t.” Morax pleads. He’s now standing at his full height, but compared to you he feels minuscule and insignificant. He tenderly grasps your hand with his, moving so he’s standing directly in front of you. His golden eyes, the ones that shine like the brightest cor lapis, stare at you in desperation. It’s a silent plea, begging you to stay in Teyvat, to stay with him.

You look at Morax, giving him a soft yet sad smile. The last thing you wanted to do was hurt him, but you knew if you stayed with him, his obsession, his darkness would only consume him even more. If you stayed, you would be the cause of his destruction, and you couldn’t bear to watch your dear Morax destroy himself.

“Whatever it is you wish for, I swear to Celestia I will make it happen. I swear I will see it done, just please, stay with me.” There’s a desperation in his voice, panic, almost. Despite the urge that you have to wrap your arms around your beloved Morax, you hold strong. You have made up your mind, and you will leave the mortal world once more.

“My dear Morax, this is the one thing that you cannot give me.” You say, your fingers reaching out to cup his face one last time. He leans into your touch, golden eyes full of sadness.

“I will descend to Teyvat in the future if Celestia allows it. But for now, I just have but one request.”

“Anything.”

“Use your power to guide the mortals. No more bloodshed, I do not think my heart can take anymore.” You sigh, brushing your thumb over his cheek.

“As you wish.” He nods. You give Morax a soft smile before leaning forward and kissing your beloved Morax once more. As painful as it was to leave, you knew you had to. You weren’t all knowing, and you didn’t have the gift of foresight, but you could sense that if you stayed, something sinister would consume your beloved Morax. In the end, this was for his safety and well-being just as it was for the rest of the people of Teyvat.

But little did you forget the main characteristic of a dragon; they never let go of what’s theirs.

[badaspebble]

ah i’m loving your writing~!! i would like to request something where reader is a trainee on a survival show, since swf dancers often become judges, bada being a judge/mentors, and maybe reader gives her secret love letters? or flirts with her off camera because she has a crush. it doesn’t haven’t to be a whole oneshot or something headcanons would be cool too ! ty~

✎ To My Secret Admirer

A/N: Hey babe! Thank you for the compliment and the ask 🫶🏽. I hope you’re doing well. This is like super short and rushed I’m sorry :(

Warnings: Swearing. It’s all just fluff.

Bada Lee x fem!reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Who am I?” Those are the first thoughts you had when you saw her. She was beautiful. Absolutely fucking captivating. Her tall stature made her seem unapproachable, but Bada was really just a giant puppy. Who were you? A contestant who was hopelessly in love with this woman. You were somebody that couldn’t have her, right? You pondered on that thought until you were reminded of the way her face would light up when she found your notes towards her. Your notes, not anybody else’s. Of course, she didn’t actually know it was from you, but let’s be honest. You’re way too obvious when you’re around her.

Tripping over nothing? Are you serious? Stuttering when you’re trying to impress her? Lord. Even if she was blind with no sense of anybody taking a liking to her, she would still know it was from you. Might as well write your name on them too. It wasn’t long until you remembered that did actually know.

The little glances towards you, along with the way she’d take any chance to be in contact with you…it made you keep going. You were glad you did, because you started receiving notes too. They weren’t much, but every single word that was written on them really brightened your day.

It would be stuff like “You look so beautiful today,” or funnier ones like “Your hair looks so good! (Please kiss me)” and “Tbh you shouldn’t let others perceive you in my honest, humble opinion that is not biased :)”

You especially loved those ones. Communicating through notes was good at first, but you craved her direct attention. You wanted her eyes on you, wanted her to smile while talking to you.

You’ve been recently feeling very courageous, sending more bold things her way. You’ve even left your lipstick mark on your newest letters. You figured since she basically already knew, might as well go up to her.

Your eyes were glued onto her as you walked up, ignoring the conversation she’s having. Which was a bit rude, but who knows when you’ll be this brave again. You took a deep breath as she turned to you, and swallowed harshly.

“H-“ Your voice cracked, embarrassing you even further. You both just stared at each other after that, with Bada trying not to laugh and you trying not to run away while looking at her blankly.

You didn’t try to speak again, but Bada thankfully spoke up. “Hey..” She smirked, holding in her laugh. Your voice was cute, and it still sounded cute with your voice crack. You were adorable. “How’s your routine going?” She asked, still smiling bright while trying not to laugh.

You swallowed again, threatening whichever higher being that existed to not let you embarrass yourself again. “It’s good…uhm it would’ve been better if you were there to help..” You coughed awkwardly.

Bada looked at you, slowly letting her smile brighten even more, if that was even possible. “Was that your attempt at flirting?” She said with a giggle.

You just looked at her and pursed your lips. “Anyways..” You said, turning your body around and walking away.

You heard Bada’s laughter behind you as it slowly got louder the closer she got. “Don’t run!” More laughter followed. “I thought it was cute, I pinky promise.” She grabbed your arm, turning you around to meet her twinkling eyes. “How about I teach you some stuff later? My studio is just around the corner.”

You looked up at her, letting a shy smile take over your face. “Are you sure that’s even allowed? You’re gonna get me kicked off this thing.” You say jokingly, avoiding her stare.

“I won’t let them. Don’t tell anybody but…you’re my favorite.” She leaned in to whisper jokingly, before she giggled.

Swallowing harshly, you finally met her eyes. “Okay..” You mumbled, still a little bit unsure. You felt her pat your head, subtly messing up your hair and running away as you noticed. “Hey! Bada??” You yell out, hearing her giggles down the hallway.

Sighing, you fixed your hair as you felt your heartbeat increase. Would she actually take the time out of her day to teach you? Are you guys just going to ignore the fact that you’ve been sending letters to each other? You laughed at that, not realizing how weird it sounded out loud.

You sat on the ground next to the set, realizing you don’t have her number nor do you have the location of her studio. “Am I a dumbass?” You laughed at yourself, probably looking crazy as hell. You were about to get up and wallow in your self pity as you walked home until you heard a motorcycle in the distance. It rolled up to you before slowly stopping. You were about to tell them to fuck off before they took their helmet off, revealing Bada.

“Are we in a movie?” Was the first thing you said. “This is the most cliche thing ever.” You continued saying, looking at her in disbelief. Her smile graced her face as she laughed. “Just get on, I promise it’s not that far.”

She handed you a helmet as you looked at her in even more disbelief. “Girl…” You mumbled, putting the helmet on and sitting behind her. She started off going slow before revving her bike and going faster. “How do you even know my head size? That’s very weird of you.” You yelled so she could hear you over the wind.

Silence followed, and you guess she might’ve not heard you. “…Next question.” You finally heard her mumble. You laughed, the arms holding her waist securely started to hug her tighter as you rested your head on her back despite the helmet. It was quiet the rest of the way, both of you just basking in the comfort of each other.

It wasn’t long before you made it to her studio. She was fast as she got off her bike, taking her helmet off before pulling you off too. You giggled despite yourself, loving how unnecessary that entire act was.

Bada played it cool after that. “Yeah I’m like super strong and stuff. I workout occasionally…you know.”

You looked at her. So much for playing it cool. You tried really hard to keep in your laugh, your face turning red and your eyes looking anywhere but her.

“Interesting…” You said while giggling subtly. “Yeah..” Bada said with an awkward cough. “Anyways, let’s go in.” She hurriedly switched the subject, ushering the both of you inside. Once you both settled your stuff, you looked at each other. “Soooo…” You looked around.

Bada looked at you sheepishly, looking kind of guilty. “To be honest, I only did this so I could spend time with you..” She mumbled, looking like a kicked puppy as she looked around.

Smiling, you sat on the floor facing the mirror. You patted the spot next to you. “So let’s get to know each other some more..”

Bada giggled again, looking like she just won a million bucks as she sat next to you. The night went on, as the both of you talked about anything. From favorite colors, to wondering if aliens exist, to theories about the multiverse.

“Do you think we’d meet in every universe?” You questioned. Bada looked at you, her eyes sparkling brightly as she took in you, your soul…your existence in her life. “I would hope so…I think you’re the only one I’d want to meet in every universe.”

She held your hand, interlocking your pinkies together as you guys giggle. “You're actually probably stalking me in every universe” Bada says jokingly.

You look at her with wide eyes and an offended expression. “Way to ruin the moment dummy..”

A/N: Tony Ann is so perfect to listen to whenever I write. Def check him out

[iomoru]

Harmony in Strokes & Notes

A/n: I still haven't done my homework tbh

Genre: Modern Au!, High School Au! Fluff, Albedo is in Art Class, Reader is in Piano Class, Albedo x Reader, Gn!Reader, Senior Year, Second Person, Not Proofread.

Summary: After school, your piano playing catches Albedo's attention as he paints in a nearby studio. Both of you often stay late, absorbed in your own art, but today, Albedo decides to approach. Sitting beside you at the piano, the quiet connection between you grows as your music fills the room. With subtle touches and unspoken words, the air between you is charged with a gentle tension, hinting at a deeper bond.

The quiet hum of the music room lingered in the air, the soft sound of piano keys resonating through the hallways. It was late afternoon, and most students had already left for the day. You, however, found solace in the empty piano room, your fingers dancing across the keys in a delicate melody. Music had always been your escape, a way to unwind and release the tension of the day.

Across the hall in the art studio, Albedo was still working. He, too, preferred staying late after class, when the world was silent and all that existed was the canvas in front of him. His strokes were precise, careful, just like the way he approached everything in life. But even in the quietness of the art room, your music reached him.

He looked up from his painting, his eyes narrowing in concentration as he listened. That melody…it was familiar. It was your signature—soft, sweet, and a little bit melancholic. He had heard it many times before in passing, and each time, it intrigued him more.

Deciding to take a break, Albedo wiped his hands on a rag and stood, making his way toward the piano room. You were there, completely immersed in your music, unaware of his approach until the door creaked slightly as it opened. Your fingers paused mid-note, and you turned, startled to see him leaning against the doorframe.

"Don’t stop," he said, his voice soft but commanding. "It sounded beautiful."

You smiled, a bit flustered at his sudden presence. "I didn’t know anyone was listening."

Albedo stepped into the room, his eyes wandering over the piano before resting on you. "I always listen when you play. It helps me focus."

You felt your cheeks warm at his words, though you tried to play it off casually. "Really? I didn’t think my playing was that special."

"It is." His gaze was intense, the kind that made your heart skip a beat. "It's like the sound of your soul, expressed through the keys. I find it fascinating."

The way he said it, so direct and honest, left you speechless for a moment. You had known Albedo for a while now, he was in your senior class after all, but the two of you had never really interacted outside of passing conversations. He was always so calm, composed, and mysterious.

"I could say the same about your paintings," you finally replied, trying to match his intensity. "They…speak in a way words can’t."

Albedo moved closer, standing just behind you now, his breath barely ghosting the back of your neck. "You’ve seen them?"

You nodded. "I might’ve peeked a few times on my way to class."

He hummed in response, leaning down slightly until you could feel the warmth of him so close behind you. "Then I guess we both have an appreciation for each other’s art."

His words sent a shiver down your spine. It wasn’t just what he said, but the way he said it—so close, so deliberate. You swallowed, trying to keep your composure as the air between you thickened with unspoken tension.

"Would you…like to stay?" you asked, your voice softer than usual. "I can play something for you while you finish your painting."

Albedo’s eyes gleamed in the dim light. "I think I’d like that."

He settled beside you on the piano bench, his proximity making your pulse quicken. His shoulder brushed against yours as you began to play again, a gentle melody filling the room once more. As your fingers glided over the keys, Albedo's hand rested casually on the bench behind you, his presence both comforting and electrifying.

It was a simple moment, yet it felt so intimate, like you were sharing something beyond words—something only the two of you could understand.

A/n: God I feel so lazy

© ²⁰²⁴ ɪᴏᴍᴏʀᴜ

[offbrand-deltatraveler]

Tbh I get that all the episodes of this arc being extremely rushed and episodic and awkwardly cutting off instead of having proper endings is just part of the YouTube Shorts aesthetic, but it really doesn’t work for an episode as important as today’s that was a video and not a Short. And arguably never worked for any more serious story-important episodes tbh

(Spoilers for pretty much everything and just a lotta general negativity ahead)

Like things like the explanation of the lore and the countdown could be done in Shorts because they were clearly made with the fact that they were going to be Shorts in mind, but when things finally started to pick up it felt less like Shorts and more that they were only showing us little bits and pieces of a much bigger story that we’ll never get to see and that really messes with the immersion

“But the world doesn’t exist outside of when Chikn wants it to. The Shorts are all there is to see. That’s the point” the point is stupid

And that doesn’t even work because if the world can only exist when Chikn wants it to then everyone should be dead. How did any episode or even any moment without Chikn in it ever exist if that’s the case? How are the characters shown to have done things off-screen multiple times?

Also furthermore like. Everything was just so rushed???

Like one minute Chee is getting upset and ends up punching Chikn so hard it knocks him out (Not to mention she didn’t even punch him in the face and just kinda awkwardly pushed him. Would’ve been cool if she scratched him being a cat and all but the devs didn’t wanna go for that for some reason), but in the next scene she’s smiling like nothing was ever wrong to begin with, and somehow manages to trigger a flashback without even saying anything?

Also the devs teased a lotta puppet imagery with Chikn that they can’t decide whether or not they actually want because there was that whole thing about how while the chaos is caused by Chikn, he still feels like a part of it rather than the cause of it (“Sometimes I feel like I’m just… A puppet on a stage”), which is presumably because of his chaotic powers running wild and trying to take control of him, but in this episode that apparently was completely retconned in favor of Chikn himself feeling like he has to destroy the world. Which I can also see as well with how Bezel keeps egging him on but 1. They didn’t have to replace one with the other. It’d arguably be more interesting if both were true at once (Chikn feeling like he has to fulfill his destiny and destroy everything made it easier for his powers to get the better of him), and 2. Bezel never said anything to him that would actually make this work. He didn’t even know about his destiny until his powers started doing their thing because Bezel explicitly refused to tell him. Where did these feelings of having to fulfill his destiny even come from? How does he even know there’s a prophecy instead of thinking that he just happens to have weird powers?

Or maybe he did. Maybe all that stuff did happen and does have an explanation and we just won’t see it because they don’t show us the full story

And also speaking of Bezel what happened to “Everything must be cute. Everything must be nice”? If Chikn is so convinced that he must follow his destiny of destroying the world what was up with that part where he explicitly stated that he doesn’t want the world destroyed?

(Also also speaking of Bezel, the reveal of him being the doomsday clock was cool and really clever but like. If he’s not the embodiment of time why didn’t Iscream & Fwench Fwy literally just kill him?)

“Well maybe his powers did what power usually does and began to corrupt him” They should’ve said that. As the viewers, AKA the people who are not writing the story, it is not our job to fill up plotholes

And also that still goes for the “Puppet on a stage being controlled by the chaos inside him” angle while today’s episode goes for the “Bezel gaslit Chikn into thinking his destiny is inescapable” angle

And also furthermore if he’s convinced he has to destroy everything why didn’t he eat her? Why didn’t he ever try to hurt Chee or show that he was going to (And yes, I do mean show. Chikn tells her over and over again that his destiny makes him dangerous for Chee to be around, but she is never shown to be in any real danger)? Maybe instead he could’ve started trying to do that thing he did in one of the earliest episodes where he pulled out her pin and she just died. Maybe seeing her like that could remind him of that time and that could’ve been the thing that triggered the flashback

Not to mention the whole reason this happened in the first place was because Chee stopped hanging out with him and that made him feel lonely and the emptiness and boredom he felt allowed him to become aware of his powers and how they affect people. Why was that never brought up throughout like any part of this whole thing? “We’re all here for you” He doesn’t want a “We’re All” he wants you specifically. That’s why he’s doing all this. That was the whole significance of Chee going to talk to him

And speaking of how his powers did that thing to Chee, quick sidenote to mention how we never see the result of that. We never see what exactly happened with Chee that stressed him out so much or how Cofi and Slushi reacted to it and that wouldn’t been such an interesting thing to show. And no this is not because of an episode limit they literally have 300 of them

And speaking of Slushi, why do we never see her reaction to the fact that all of this was Chikn’s fault? Between Chee randomly walking out on their hangout and Chikn’s powers rubbing off on Sodi she has to have noticed

And the line delivery in this episode was shit because we know Chikn Nuggit characters can sound genuinely emotional when they need to

tl;dr: The “Silly little relatable Shorts made by a small group of people who just wanna have fun” aesthetic doesn’t work well when applied to Shorts that aren’t silly or fun. Trying to uphold this vibe has done infinitely more to hurt the story than to help it

[brighter-by-the-daly]

Rachel Daly x Reader

Part Six: Dashed Hopes

AN: I know it’s been forever since I added to this series, tbh I thought part 5 would be the end but I kept writing for it and it’s been sitting in my drafts for ages. There’s another part after this but I just gotta figure out how to end it so idk when that will be coming (do we want them to get back together?), just wanted to get something out so I didn’t feel like I’d completely abandoned writing.

In America, off season starts a lot later than in Europe meaning all your friends from back home go off on holiday while you’re still playing competitive football. By the time it was your off season, your friends would be back to work and trying to squeeze in a vacation with them was pretty impossible. You loved visiting your parents and extended family but sometimes you wish you played in the WSL with them so you could have more time together other than international breaks. You weren’t even sure if you’d get called up again but knowing England are competing in America this break gave you a better shot seeing as you’re already here.

Since returning home to The Dash, Rachel had been hard at work trying to win you over again - staying up until the early hours in the morning to be able to call you, often paired with FaceTime. You rarely gave her the same luxury, you didn’t stay up at all hours of the night so you could speak to her and everything was on your terms; every Monday she asks when you’re available and makes sure she calls you in the allotted time frame you give her. It was obvious that she was doing everything within her power to get back with you, whether that meant long distance or you eventually going back home to England.

You looked forward to seeing your national teammates in a few weeks time when England compete in the She Believe’s Cup, it meant that for once, you wouldn’t be doing the 8 hour flight to base camp and they’d all be coming to you! Rachel had been talking about the camp nonstop and didn’t hide her excitement of being able to see you again. She was happy to take what she could get, be that as a friend or even if it just meant acquaintances, at least your were speaking again and that was enough for her. You couldn’t lie that you didn’t look forward to her evening phone calls and the attention she gave you made you feel good but you weren’t allowing her to consume your every thought like before. Propping the phone up on the kitchen counter as you cooked dinner her voice floated through the speaker from another continent, “I saw you got the call up!” she beamed, knowing your fears of Sarina forgetting you existed, “I told you after your World Cup performance, nobody could forget you!” You smiled into your saucepan of steaming pasta, pleased for yourself before sitting on the sofa to eat and stream Love Island. In America the series was being aired 2 weeks behind England and Rachel had avoided all spoilers to watch it with you, she’d often fall asleep half way through and you’d be lying if you didn’t think she looked adorable. Still, you were determined not to get sucked into the facade she played and as soon as her eyes closed you hit the red button. You hadn’t forgotten what she had done the year previous but your feelings towards her had certainly softened. 

Reaching the last few games of the season you were mostly packed and ready to fly to South Carolina for the tournament next month. Tying up your boots and trotting out for warm ups ready for your game against the Red Stars you noticed louder than usual cheering when shooting practice began. “Is today something special?” you asked Ebony as you lined up to take shots at goal, she didn’t say anything but subtly nodded upwards towards the East Stand. Looking towards the source of the noise you spotted a familiar face you’d been getting used to seeing through a 6inch screen. ‘What the fuck is she doing here?’ you thought, rolling your eyes at the sight of her hyping up the crowd from her seat. Standing in the middle of the pitch in your bright orange jersey with your hands placed on your hips and an unamused pout, you waited for her to notice you and when she did you pulled a gesture that can only be explained as “what the actual fuck?!” Rushing down the stairs in excitement you’d be cancelled in a second if anyone knew you hoped she’d trip and roll down to the bottom, chuckling to yourself at the thought. “If you wouldn’t come to me, I had to come to you didn’t I!” she shouted, her grin expanding as she neared closer to you. ‘That’s rich’, you thought! “Or an even better idea would have been to not leave in the first place” you said sarcastically, one of your eyebrows raising to display an unamused look that your ex knows all too well. “Hey, be nice. I thought you’d be pleased to see me!” she jeered, acting like she thought her appearance would be like something out of a rom-com. “Shocked more like! You’re wearing my shirt” you said, arms still folded as you spotted your number under the club badge. “Yeah! Bought it at the gift shop, they’re flying off the shelves!” bouncing around to do your signature celebration by pointing at your name on her back, you couldn’t remember the last time you’ve seen her with so much energy! Shaking your head in amusement it was time to go and get changed and as you jogged away she shouted out to you “good luck captain!” smiling and waving like a fan girl which was seriously giving you the ick. You turned and stared at her smugly while walking backwards towards the tunnel, “have you seen the league table lately? Don’t need your luck mate, we got this!” Running back up the stairs to her seat she placed herself next to your parents who had agreed to also be bought along for the journey. With everything going on you hadn’t spotted them - it was either that or the fact they were hiding behind their programs! 

If you had known your parents were in the crowd you would have celebrated your goal with them but instead you celebrated with the opposite stand, desperate not to give Rachel any more airtime than she probably already had. You tried not to pay any attention to where your ex was sitting the entire game but according to other players (particularly ones that were unfamiliar with what happened between you) she was your biggest cheerleader, barely in her seat the entire game, shouting and cheering at every possibility. You pretended after the match that you hadn’t heard her but her strong northern accent boomed around the stadium; however distracting, you can’t deny that having someone from home in the stands pushed you on. 

Shaking hands and making your way around the field to thank both teams you finally looked up to see not only the blonde but... “Mum? Dad?” you screamed, shielding the sun out of your eyes long enough to see it was undeniably your parents. Launching yourself over the barrier faster than Usain Bolt you sprinted up the steps towards the back of the stands as your dad came bounding down towards you, scooping you into one of his giant bear hugs as you met in the middle. Your mum quickly wrapped her arms around you both to stop your dad from falling over from the shear force you threw yourself at him. Rachel watched everything unfold from afar, a tear rolling down her cheek knowing bringing them along had made you so happy. Surely you’d have to forgive her now, right?!

Rachel stayed until the end of the season, spending time getting to know each other again like it was the beginning. She came to every single one of your games and this time, it was her wearing your name on her back. For so many years it was the other way around when you didn’t play on the same team; you’d go to watch her but Rachel being in a higher league barely had time to show up to your games. Your walls may have been broken down easily but the team certainly hadn’t forgotten what she did to you and how they had to rebuild you after she left. It was extremely messy, it wasn’t a secret that you two were dating and the fans very quickly realised the 6 year relationship was over when Rach abruptly announced her departure from The Dash. Conspiracies and rumours flew around the internet for months trying to guess what had happened and who was the victim - Rach being the bigger name tended to get the most sympathy. You know you shouldn’t have read the comments online but you couldn’t help yourself and it nearly drowned you, if it wasn’t for your teammates you never would have made it out the other side. Now club captain, you had made your own name for yourself, no longer riding off the back of Rachel’s multi continental fame. You are (y/f/n) - striker, captain and leader. You are so much more than Rachel Daly’s ex girlfriend. 

Since her return, the rumours had started spiralling again – ‘had they broken up?’, ‘are they back together?’, ‘is Rachel trying to take her back to England?’ – it was relentless! On the last game of the season, Rachel was invited to make a speech at half time, stating how proud of the team she was and how Houston still feels like home to her. She donned a specially made jersey and given a commemorative photo album to take home with her. You couldn’t stand it and waited in the changing room until she’d dispersed back to the stand. She did do a lot for the team when she was here but it’s your turn now, you’re sick of still being in her shadow even when she doesn’t play here anymore! The back stabby feeling stuck around for a while, bitter that the fans and club still loved her, she even handed out the medals for winning the league! Having to stand there and shake her hand, accepting the trophy from her to take to the rest of the team made you want to drop it onto her foot but you saved face and smiled politely when inside you were dying. Just when you think she’s doing everything right lately, she does everything wrong… again!

Celebrating in the changing room you’d had a little too much to drink when she burst in, keen to join in the party. ‘Oh no fucking way’ you muttered under your breath, slamming your bottle down on the table a little to hard and pushing her right back out of the door she’d just entered from. “This isn’t your party, why are you here?” you slurred, becoming a little braver with your words now your body was filled with alcohol. “I just thought-” she started before you cut her off, “no, you didn’t think! This is my first win as captain and you’re here to take over!” your voice becoming louder and louder, earning you a few stares from passing staff. Even after everything that happened, you couldn’t believe that the club had asked her to be such a huge part of todays celebrations, everyone knows what she did and half of them helped her do it. They watched you for months trying to become yourself again after the worst heartbreak you had ever endured and still thought making it all about her was a good idea! “Just leave, I want to celebrate with my friends” you ended your rant, exhausted with still having to fight with her. “Okay” she nodded solemnly, “have a good night” her head bowed as her feet swivelled and she walked off. “Right!” bursting back into the changing room, “let’s get this party started!!!” 

[oh-saints]

gift

when your boyfriend is manchester city’s infamous number 3, it’s a bit hard to find a suitable gift for someone who practically has the world in his hands.

rúben dias x engineer!OC

word count: 3.7k

note: due to popular demand on my askbox (of which i can no longer reply 1-by-1) and as a thank you for the enthusiasm you showed in there, this is the 2nd part to this but can be read as a standalone for those who haven’t read the 1st part. this is also mildly inspired by this ask AND THE GIF (asfghjhjhj i'm still not over it tbh). however, as usual, i happen to always write around dawn so ofc this is not beta-read.

tags: @thatonesexycancerian <3

it didn’t take valentine’s day to know that rúben dias’ dominant love language is giving gifts.

hell, it didn’t even take a week for adrianna to know that. it wasn’t everyone’s cup of tea to curate a spotify playlist specifically for someone, inspired by the way they met and the current long-distance relationship they were holding on, and kept expanding whenever the boyfriend was missing the girlfriend—which was a lot.

the listing parade continued with a letterboxd list of movies to watch so adrianna wouldn’t run out of things to watch and a goodreads list of books so adrianna wouldn’t feel bored when the mood to watch had deserted her. the latter touched a part of her she didn’t know existed because she knew he wasn’t that much of a fan to books, but he’d vouched he’d read them before he recommended it to her.

maybe the sentiment behind them got her more than she’d liked because let’s be realistic, rúben dias is a busy man with a very demanding job, physically and mentally. not to mention he spent more time on the jet plane than on ground. yet, he spared some time—obviously more than he’d admitted over the phone when she confronted him—to create something so personal like that.

but what started small became something else entirely.

the lists, at least those she could take on. however, when adrianna told her boyfriend she was heading for the shore for the first time in a while, the portugese decided by himself that it was a good idea to upgrade her ordinary deluxe hotel room into a suite. while the luxury that was entitled to the hefty price tag was an absolute pleasure to be indulged in after months of being in a rig, adrianna vowed to repay him one way or another, despite rúben’s insistence that he wouldn’t take on the repayment because he'd “be more than happy to give his girl nothing but the best.”

and he lived up to his words. by the time they stepped into the 3-month mark, adrianna shook up the entire rig from having a 100-piece fresh flower bouquet delivered to the facility right before the day started for the engineers. the flowers surely was a rare sight to see, even more unheard of than the legendary blood moon, hence her male counterparts were genuinely elated for her. for her excellent catch, and for the hope it sparked to their love life—be it single-ready-to-mingle-but-distance-sucks or the helpless long-distance relationship.

6 months in and her royal boyfriend treated the entire rig for a banquet with food they rarely had the chance to devour unless they went back on-shore. he slipped in a little gratitude note for always looking out his girl when I’m not around, albeit anonymously because both rúben and adrianna agreed on not telling anyone until they were fully ready to share the relationship with the rest of the world, just like how adrianna had to share rúben.

there was also time when he missed adrianna so much he sent random gifts to the rig. today was a bouquet of lego flowers that rúben had constructed himself and framed in a box, complete with a little note to show how much he longed to have her in his arms once more and a polaroid of him and his dog, sporting all black fashion because they were mourning. she was astounded that (i) he remembered adrianna said the water the rig was using was actually filtered from the surrounding sea and it unfortunately wilted the flowers sooner than expected, (ii) he asked her if she also missed him they way he did her. the last part made her heart skipped a dozen notes.

it wasn’t like she never reciprocated how rúben expressed his profound love towards her—telling him how much she loves him, despite their short time together physically—but she’d never had to show how much she loved someone with gifts. sure, she wasn’t a plain jane or some sort towards that kind of lifestyle but she was more familiar in the tradition of gifting someone else a practical gift. at least something she knew they needed it so she bought it, none gone wasted.

and now… she wasn’t sure at all. because it wasn’t only about what he liked, but it was about how to blow his waters off the pool, too. at the same time, it should also be something that was equivalent as to saying i love you without spelling the 8 letters. she didn’t want rúben to think he was dating someone no good for him, someone who couldn’t match his level. someone not worthy of him. if there was one thing adrianna hated the most was to disappoint people she deeply cared about.

what do you give to someone who’s already had everything best in this world?

while she was now past the privilege of looking at her bank account every pay check day to ensure she could live off safely for the next month, she didn’t hold a single candle—not even the gigantic bath & body works 3-wicks candle—against what could possibly run down deep in rúben’s pocket. she didn’t need to look up his weekly salary—weekly, mind you!—on search bar to know so. take a look at the wall of rúben dias’ corner in her room and you’d get a good guess.

whoever implanted the idea that petroleum chemical engineering would bring abundance of fortune to adrianna’s pocket, surely never had the misfortune of dating someone in the same calibre as rúben dias of manchester city. she certainly had a hard time figuring out what kind of gift could be deemed acceptable for the rúben dias.

good lord, please help. or maybe rúben’s brother if lord was too busy taking another call.

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

adrianna, at this point, didn’t know whether her heart was beating rapidly to match the drums played at the background or due to the nerves jumping up and down under her consciousness. all she knew was that whatever it is she was doing now was definitely on the scale of something she’d never done before, and the desire to give rúben only the best of her—in her capability, that is—was her only drive to play this crazy card.

crazy because she thought of all the things that’d need help arranging when she was so far away from where her boyfriend now and had no prior experience conducting this whole charade; not crazy because ivan thought his brother would want nothing else but what she had up in her sleeve. “crazy? this is probably the best gift he’ll have,” was ivan’s response when she confided her plan.

no matter how much ivan reassured her that her decision was brilliant—to the point he was very willing orchestrating everything else that was out of adrianna’s reach, in order for her plan to be perfectly executed—adrianna couldn’t stop herself from fidgeting her fingers on her lap. what if it still wasn’t enough for rúben?

what if she wasn’t enough for rúben?

if her sister whined once more about wanting to get married someone rich instead of finishing her study, she’d cut off her allowance for the rest of her life. it should serve her the reminder that it wasn’t easy to date someone that seemed… so larger than life. at least, her life.

yes, she’d seen a glimpse of what life next would bring to her back when they met for the first time at the airport. people started to made a sizable crowd around them, with their phone cameras pointed at rúben and her. the photos made the internet go berserk briefly and netizens tried to figure out who rúben’s newest, mystery girl was. but she could take that on, she’d thought. as long as they didn’t step over the boundaries, she understood that much. she was a fan of the jonas brothers herself a long time ago.

but now, as she stepped inside the packed etihad stadium for the last game of the season, she realised what dating rúben dias entailed. the cameras had been set up around the stadium, and it dawned on her that the crowd she went in together with today was only a miniscule part of city fans all over the world. what she did would affect rúben, and what if she took a wrong step? what if that wrong step was a sufficient reason to break their newly-embarked relationship?

adrianna felt like puking this very minute.

“you okay?”

ivan’s voice was enough to cancel her initial reaction of vomiting but not enough to conceal the shaky breath she took as she looked up to the man resembling rúben by the eyes. like his brother, this man harboured some sort of invisible power that unabled her to tell lies. but her mental breakdown was beyond comprehensive words at this point, and there was no way to summarize what she was feeling right now. so she swallowed every last bit of her sanity down the throat and took the seat beside the older man.

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

rúben played excellently as usual, but it was nothing but expected of the backline captain. still, manchester city conceded two easy goals for the opponent. absolute shambles, especially when they were in tight positions to secure another premier league trophy. they lose and the trophy goes elsewhere.

having watched her boyfriend’s matches now, adrianna recognised the look of frustrations rúben sported. frustrated that his team could’ve done better, frustrated that his team were on the verge of giving up, frustrated that he couldn’t contribute better on the other goal end. they needed two more goals to make an epic comeback.

they were running so well for the whole season that adrianna couldn’t help but blame herself, should they lose in her presence. she was halfway believing it was because of her that the team was behind because it was supposed to be an easy team win. it was the day she decided to come to manchester to finally catch her boyfriend in action after all.

“you should text him,” ivan said when the referee blew the halftime whistle and adrianna watched as her boyfriend was walking towards the tunnel, shaking his head, obviously disgruntled at the result so far. “it’ll cheer him up.”

why bother on placing another jinx of misfortune towards rúben and his teammates?

maybe her idea of coming here was bound to doom.

“i don’t want to distract him, ivan.”

“contrary to your belief, you’re the reason he’s so focused, adrianna,” ivan clicked his tongue in disbelief. “you make him better than every day before. it never happens to my brother.”

maybe ivan was only saying it was a good one out of pity towards her, seeing that her plan was failing.

“whatever,” ivan continued, his voice matching his gruff exterior. “i sent him one picture of you already, thought that might fuel his spirit even more.”

should she? what if her text wasn’t enough to lift rúben up?

just as about adrianna was on the verge of giving in, she felt something running down her spine. that familiar shiver when you know someone was watching you from behind. but instead of fear, she felt warmth. the kind of warmth that only rúben could emit. be it his voice, his presence—him. she turned her line of sight to the direction of the grass pitch and there he was, standing tall and proud and unbothered like his reputation of wall of china while looking at her with eyes smeared with a little bit of disbelief, but zeroed on her nonetheless. contrasting the traditional centre back posture was his mega-watt smile, the one he never failed to show her whenever she picked up his video calls before greeting her with, “minha vida, meu amor, how are you today?”

the one she knew he reserved it only for her. because it never failed to make her feel like the only girl in the world at that moment, like she was the centre of his universe and nothing else mattered to him the most.

and at that moment, she knew rúben chose her because she was enough for him.

it was easy for them the first time they met, and it was easy now for her to feel the affection rúben loved to shower her unconditionally with.

and before her brain could take over the last piece of logic inside her, adrianna flashed him a grin that stretched from ear to ear at the view that reminded her of a chesire cat eager to play with alice in wonderland. her version of the smile that was only intended for rúben dias and only at rúben dias, no matter the time and place.

she waved at him involuntarily, the part of her body that had been missing him to bits since their airport encounter stole the start from her rationale, unable to contain the lingering that had been gnawing her heart for months now. fuck distance makes heart grow fonder, it softened the hell out of the organ she could combust if she didn’t get to touch her boyfriend when they were now this close to being together, physically and mentally.

she didn’t think his smile could grow any bigger but it did, as she waved at him. and the disbelief in his eyes turned into something else entirely. fierce, but elated. like he was so happy she was here that it was enough to fire again the determination and desire to grab the win from the back. like he’d finally found his reasoning and awakening altogether at the same time.

and it was enough for him to light up the spirit. of him, of his fellow defenders, of his team. of the stadium and the fans everywhere else in the world when he slotted another well-executed header into the opponent’s goal to level the score. it looked effortless; perfectly timed and executed by kevin.

and for rúben, effortless was something he grew accustomed to lately, despite some people calling him crazy for his “rash” decision. but he couldn’t blame people when they don’t exactly know the real meaning of the word, not when he knew they didn’t have adrianna to show him everything he needed to know about falling in love effortlessly. like his goal, his encounter with adrianna was perfectly timed. so for him, there was nothing else more suitable than a celebration to match the theme.

the portugese didn’t think twice when he ran to the other end from where the goal just went in, so fast his mates were screaming his name to slow down, and then he simply stood there with the same smile he knew she loved and knew only came out when he was with her. no grandiose gesture, he just straight on looked up at his girlfriend, now wearing the blue shirt he’d always dream to see her on. erupting crowd and back hugs from his teammates paled to the pride and proud she wore in her face as she looked down at him.

ilkay shook the stadium once more when his strike went past the goalie the last 3 minutes of the game, pretty much sealing the most coveted trophy in the football industry for the 4th time to manchester city. when the whistle finally blew, literally and figuratively, the crowd went wild to the point the players had to be rescued from the pitch towards the tunnel. rúben didn’t think twice to call ivan immediately as he reached the locker room to ask if they were safe and sound.

(well, the implied question was if adrianna was safe and sound.)

the roaring stadium couldn’t even conceal the palpitating beats inside his ribcage, the blood rushed to his ears faster than his regular pace that his phone had to alerted him to calm down. but how could he calm down when he just contributed the most important goal of his career, in the presence of the woman he loved? in the presence of the woman whom he knew must’ve taken half of her precious annual leave so bravely just to see him?

how could he calm down when he knew she was so close yet so far? when he knew he could’ve run upstairs just to have her in his arms for a minute before returning back in time for the trophy lift?

should he just forego this whole thing and be with her instead? he’d won 3 epl trophies before, the thrilling feeling shouldn’t be new anymore, right?

unfortunately, however, before he could execute his crazy escapade, the staff ushered the first team out to the field again for the one thing the entire building had been working on.

rúben waited in line for his turn to earn his silver medal with “4-time champion” inscribed on it and while doing so, he couldn’t help himself to look up to the tribune where adrianna was at. as soon as he saw the grin she was sporting, jumping up and down beside his brother ivan, looking as real and as regal as the first time he saw her, he smiled so wide john stones had to elbow him on the belly. “where’s the missus at? she here?”

rúben only answered the barnsley native with a nod towards his girlfriend, the grin on his face never perished. she waved again at him, her excitement so infectious that rúben couldn’t stop himself from blowing a kiss at her. john laughed at how corny that was but couldn’t bring himself to blame the portugese from being lovesick. being deserted by your ex just when you popped the question wasn’t something easy to comeback from. john was only glad he’d found a better match in all aspect for rúben, despite the distance the couple had to endure together.

the trophy lifted and paraded to every corner of the pitch, photos taken at every sequence, and now it was time for the family to congratulate their loved ones for the hard work they’d committed this past year. adrianna, included, although she only had the privilege recently.

despite the ardent crave to jump into rúben’s strong arms as soon as the portugese was in her sight, adrianna gave some space to the dias brothers to celebrate first. rúben had several times mentioned ivan and his cousin were two people that inspired him the most in regards to his professional career so she wouldn’t want to try to break the bond and respect that were shared between the two, and rúben swore he fell in love again once more when he realised the meaning behind her action.

as soon as rúben’s eyes diverted from ivan to her, adrianna didn’t hesitate to cut off the last remaining distance between them. and as soon as her head fitted under his palm and her legs hung around the back of his waist, rúben released the breath he didn’t know he was holding. at last, he muttered against her hair. who knew the smell of a shampoo could be so comforting?

at that moment, reality hit him. rúben dias had been too focused on chasing something—anything; trophies, titles, awards—that he forgot the meaning of home. and adrianna just handed it back on his plate.

it was so soothing how small she was in his arms, yet it felt like he had come back home. like he was holding his entire world in his embrace, and he couldn’t ask for anything else better, even if it meant that he had to undergo the whole failed proposal all over again.

“you’re here.”

“i am,”and there was the sound he’d been missing the most, clear as crystal. not the one he’d been hearing over the phone, through the endless video calls when he was about to sleep and she just woke up. “parabens, querido.”

“i must be dreaming,” rúbenhad to pull her closer to him—as if it was possible—to make sure she was here, in flesh and blood. “you can’t be real, you know? but i keep seeing you.”

adrianna pulled away from rúben’s lock around her, mirth glinted her eyes. “should i just go back to—”

“no,” rúben didn’t hold back as he kissed her. finally. her lips felt like the sweetest victory; for winning the title again, for waiting for her no matter how long it takes. and he devoured every last bit of it, slowly but sure, not wanting to miss any more detail. “you don’t know how long i’ve been praying to hold you like this again.”

“well, you got your wish,” rúben’s dropping bass tone to his voice sent shudders all over her body, both from the voice and the desperation that lingered behind his words. she kissed him once more to show she felt exactly the same and he hummed, as he felt her nipping his bottom lip. “happy birthday, benzinho. i hope you like your present because i don’t know what else to give you if you don’t like it.”

this time, rúben was the one who pulled away first, confusion written all over his face. “what, you think i’m not going to like it?”

“well, look around you, rúben,” adrianna casted a glance everywhere else but him, awkward and so unlike of her. “i can’t possibly compare to—”

“you’re the best thing i could ever ask for, gatinha,” rúben moved up his hands from her waist to cup her face, the sharp jawline contrasted the soft glimmer in the beautiful eyes he loved. “doesn’t matter if it happens on my birthday this year, next year, next decade—i want you and i will always ask for you until the day comes. you’re the reason i start looking forward for tomorrow, knowing you’re awake already when i wake up, and you’re the reason i want to be better everyday so that one day, when the day comes, i can be the man that deserves you entirely.”

“rúben—”

before adrianna could say anything else that described the way his words swayed her world, rúben closed the vacant space between their lips, effectively shutting her up. “i don’t know what’s that pretty mind of yours have been thinking but te amo, meu amor. you’re my love and my life, meu anjo, and i don’t want it any other way.”

[pyrosomatic-metamorphosis]

one thing that really stood out to me today, that i only really just realized, was this

[Minecraft book that reads “1) A lot of us really don’t know french and those that do are rather busy. 2) From what I’ve been told the Federation genuinely doesn’t know where the eggs are. It’s freaked everyone out because they’re supposed to know. They’re supposed to see everything.”]

This is what Ron told Bad about the federation and eggs today, during his “RON o.O” stream.

But THIS is what Ron told bad about the eggs weeks ago, during his “THE FEDERATION ARRESTED ME! :( | QUESTIONS WILL BE ANSWERED!” stream when we saw him interrogating Ron for the first time:

[Minecraft book that reads: “I have never heard of them before. Please believe me.”]

Bad, after Ron said this, became more agitated and said, “You can’t just keep saying that.”

We know that Bad was interrogating Ron offscreen. We know that Bad asked where the eggs were, multiple times, and that Ron stuck to the story that he didn’t even know what the eggs were. So what’s changed?

I’m seeing two options here. 1) This is new information that Ron is sharing, and he’s in contact with the Federation and being used to manipulate Bad. How convenient that his answer is what drove Bad to agree to work with the feds to find the eggs, when before, when being tortured, he adamantly REFUSED to say he even knew they existed. It suggests that his loyalty to the feds run deep, and that the feds have been manipulating Bad for a while- which would explain why that “Bad is Innocent” report was so easy for him to get his hands on.

2) Ron is dead, and the Ron we saw today was a hallucination. I don’t know who came up with that theory initially, but tbh its my favourite answer. It explains why Ron was so snarky and happy, and where that bathrobe came from (Bad’s imagination), and why Ron had so many answers for bbh that lined up so well with what he wanted to believe. Yes, Kameto is suspicious. Yes, the federation is trying to find the eggs. Yes, I forgive you. It does not, however, explain why the lights in Ron’s room were already off during the October 1st “CUCURUCHO IS IN MY HOUSE!” stream, which is the only thing that really gives me pause. If Ron was already moved, he wasn’t there for Bad to kill and eat. It doesn’t necessarily mean he’s alive, but it does mean that, if he’s dead and it WAS a hallucination, we don’t know the time of death, or the cause.

That meeting gave us a lot of potential answers, and a lot of further questions. Bbh is an unreliable narrator so I don’t think we’re going to get those answers until Baghera gets the chance to see Ron in person herself, but either way i am so so excited to see where this goes

[thesmutsideblog]

When Your Heart Feel Heavy You Drink (Eddie Munson, Ft Steve Harrington)

Content Warnings: Accidental Pregnancy, Implied Plans For Abortion, Explicit Language, Alcohol Use, Drunken Behaviour, Smutty-ish Content But Not Extensive There Would Be More Heavy Smut If I End Up Doing A Second Part. Implications Of Reputation/Bullying. Use Of Nickname "Bunny" Both Derogatorily And Affectionately. Not Beta/Proof Read. AFAB Reader Word Count: 8k+A/N: So, a few things. One, I started writing this at 1am on a random Wednesday because I had a half asleep thought and then could not let it go. Two, I have said, time and time again, there are few tropes I hate more than accidental pregnancy. Now take that as a personal preference issue, take that as an embodiment of my fear of pregnancy, the fact I do not want children and my raging asexuality. Three, I had no idea this was going to be as much as it was when I started writing it. And I had no idea where it was going to go either. I knew I wanted it to be Eddie based, but I also knew it might end up being Harrington in the end, maybe even some Steddie content, I really didn’t have a clue, so I just let it write itself. And I might continue to write it, fuck knows. Do I think this is my best work? No. Not remotely. But I wrote it, and I wrote a lot of it, and tbh I’ve written a lot worse and thought fuck it, it exists, might aswell put it out there, so both you’re welcome and I am sorry. But also I am not sorry.

Now

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

No string of curse words was going to change the two red lines on the stick you held between your hands. No amount of praying, of cursing, of wishing. No amount of screwing your eyes closed and counting to ten and opening them again was going to change the result.

The tiny little rest glares up at you, illuminated by the shitty white lighting of the convenience stores public bathroom, and it feels like the biggest taunt you’ve ever experienced. You wonder to yourself if you could drown yourself in the dripping water of the sink you are resting your head against. You doubt it and with a deep inhale you pull yourself up off the floor.

“Right,” you tell yourself. “Not ideal, but we can fix this, we can fix this and we can forget about it, and we can focus on college applications.”

You tell yourself over and over you can do that, you can focus on tomorrow like you’re not spinning. You can think about school and college and work like your heart isn’t threatening to stop in your chest.

Like you’re not pregnant.

Your watch beeps and your hairs stand on end. Four o’clock. It’s Saturday, and it’s four o’clock. Shit, you’re about to be late for your shift at Family Video. Your whole body feels cold. You cannot go to work today. You can’t. Not with everything going on. Not there. Not if there is even the smallest chance you’ll see him.

“Keith is going to kill me,” you whisper to yourself, as you make a beeline for the payphone. You twist the metal chord around and around as it rings out, praying to the wide open that anyone else picks up the phone.

“Family Video,” comes Robin’s voice and you’ve never been so glad to hear it, “what can I do for you?”

“Buckley,” you say but your voice barely makes it out.

“Bunny?” is her reply. You groan, that nickname has followed you like the plague and Robin had never used it, until now. “Shit,” she whispers, realising her slip up, “sorry.”

“It’s fine,” you tell her, it’s not, but you’d forgive her a whole manner of sins if she doesn’t make you feel even worse for what you’re about to tell her. “Robin I cannot make my shift.”

“It’s Saturday,” Robin whines.

“I know,” you tell her, “I know, and I am sorry, and you know I wouldn’t leave you hanging if I didn’t have a really good reason.”

“What is it?” she asks. Notoriously nosy and yet it never stops surprising you how shamelessly Robin will demand answers for anything. It is as if the girl has never had to keep a secret in her life, as if she has never had a single thing she wanted to keep to herself.

“I’ve been throwing up for the last three hours and I hoped it was going to pass, I thought, hey maybe if I get it all out my system I can get to work, but between heaving up my insides and trying to force water down my throat I didn’t realise how much time passed, and I know that’s a shit excuse for giving you so little warning, but as it turns out, this might be a little more than a bad reaction to my mothers quiche,” you lean into it now, knowing how Robin feels about germs, “and unless you want to share whatever it is making me want to tear my intestines from my body-,”

“You’re good, stay home,” Robin says, “can you at least call Harrington and have him cover?”

“He is your best friend, you call him,” you say, a little too harshly, so with a wince you add, “it took all the energy I have making this call.”

“Sure, sure,” she says, and you don’t have to see her to know she is waving a hand in the air to usher your words away from her. “Whatever, just… stop being sick or something.”

“I’ll try,” you say before hanging up. Every muscle in your body hurts, you want nothing more than to sink onto the floor of this dirty payphone box and let the ground swallow you. But you can’t, because that gets you nowhere, and you’ve got places to be.

You give the door of the box a small kick before pushing it open, and staring down the road, it’ll take you about twenty minutes from here to walk to where you need to go next. Your brain is screaming at you, desperate for you to think of another option, a better option, any other option. Because there is only once place you’d not rather be than where you’re headed. One person you’d not prefer to see right now, in this moment, than who you’re walking to. But you’ve got no other choice and for every reason you want to stay the fuck away from him until you figure everything out, until everything is fixed, you can think of sixteen other reasons to go to him instead. So you do, one slow, dragging step at a time, knowing that at this pace it might take more like forty minutes to get there, but before you’ve managed to talk yourself out of the idea entirely, and before you can think of any other option you can see the benches where Gareth is stood, telling a story with his arms spread wide, and Wheeler is looking at him so intently you wonder if his eyes might pop from their sockets. Dustin is pacing, trying to figure something out, and Lucas watches sat between Gavin and Jeff, no doubt wondering why he agreed to be here on this slightly too warm June Saturday. In the middle of them all, with his legs crossed, centre of the picnic table, lazy smile on his face with a cigarette stuck between his lips, still unlit, the person you really don’t want to face right now, the person you want to run from as fast as your legs might carry you. Eddie Munson, you looks up, and in seeing you, jumps to his feet, smile turning into a wicked grin as he thrusts his arms open wide and does a theatrical bow at your approach. Eddie Munson, your best friend and favourite person in the whole wide world.

“Malady,” he calls to you, “I did not believe you would be gracing us with your presence today, thought you had to earn that money, what was it you said, the honest way.”

His jovial tone, his welcoming smile, the way he lights up when he sees you is enough to make you break. You hold yourself close, arms wrapped around your torso, as if you could stop yourself bursting at the seams if you just kept holding on tight enough. You cannot cry, you tell yourself, you will not cry.

“Princess?” Eddie asks, seeing your face, searching for a smile that he cannot find. “You okay?”

“Can I borrow your van?” you ask. This gets everyone’s attention and Eddie knows without asking by the way you look at the ground, focused intently on a rock you’re pushing between your feet, that attention is the last thing you need right now.

“Scram rugrats,” Eddie says.

“But,” Dustin starts.

Eddie just holds up a hand to silence any disagreements. “Scram.” He approaches you, slower than normal as the others start to disperse. He reaches you and he moves to place a hand on your arm, and you let him, his rings cold against your skin but you barely even register the touch. You feel so unreal, the gravity of everything suspended above you, threatening to crush you at any moment. He waits until everyone is gone, and waits a little longer before trying again. “Hey, what happened?” he asks.

“Can I borrow your van?” you ask again. Not to avoid the question, but in an eagerness to get everything moving, keep everything moving, God you need everything to keep moving because if you stop, you will fall and you doubt you have the strength to get back up again.

“Sweetheart, you cannot drive my van,” he reminds you. You nod, realising you really haven’t thought any of this through.

“Okay, can I borrow you and your van?” you ask, your voice cracking now, every other syllable seeming jaded and stifled as it comes out. Eddie’s concerned look only grows.

“I am going to need you to tell me what has happened,” he says slowly.

“Eddie,” you try, “please, can you just…” you inhale, a deep shaky breath. “I need to get to Pennsylvania.”

Eddie laughs, part of him knows he shouldn’t but the ridiculousness of you stood in front of him, in the afternoon of a Saturday in blue jeans and a tee-shirt he knows you well enough to know is a pyjama top, asking him if he can take you to Pennsylvania is just too much for him not to laugh. “Got a sudden killer urge to see the Liberty Bell?” he jokes.

“Eddie I… I really can’t have you asking questions right now,” you admit, “can you take me, or am I looking at buses?”

“Wait, you’re really serious,” he says, looking you up and down, trying to decipher why in the name of all things, would you be so serious about this.

“As a heart attack,” you say. Or an accidental pregnancy, you think to yourself.

“That’s like… an eight hour drive,” he says.

“Is that a no?” you ask, and there it is again, the pain in your voice, the threat of bursting into tears right here and not knowing if you can stop. Eddie cannot bear it, the sight of you so empty, so broken.

“No,” he says, “I’ll take you-,”

“Great,” you don’t let him finish, “where did you park?”

“Right now?” he asks. You nod and gesture around as if to enforce your question. “I parked by Family Video.”

“Oh,” you say, “well I can’t go there.”

“Because you’re skipping your shift,” Eddie says, his studying you feels so invasive all of a sudden, like he can see right through you. He can’t, and he has never wanted more to be able to. Everything about you right now seems so far from normal. He wants more than anything to know what has happened, what is happening right now, why you’re suddenly a million miles from your body and you are asking the strangest things of him. He would’ve been less surprised if you had walked up to him and told him between him dropping you home last night and now, you’d gotten hitched to a member of New Kids On The Block. He just wants to know, so he knows how to fix it, how to help.

You can see that on his face. “I told Robin I was sick, and that’s not a lie,” you say, “I spent enough hours today chucking up yesterdays diner food that I don’t think I could look at a burger right now without wanting to hurl, so no, I cannot be around Family Video,” you say, but that’s not all of it. But you don’t have the energy or the ability right now to explain that to him. “So if you want to help Eddie, please go get the van and come get me.”

“So we can drive to Pennsylvania for a reason you haven’t told me?” he asks. You nod. “And we need to leave, right now?” You nod again. He nods slowly, pulling his keys from his pocket and swinging them between his fingers by the keychain. “Okay,” he says after a moment. “I’ll be fifteen minutes, tops.”

Waiting for Eddie could have been forever but it could have been a blink of your eyes, you're not sure because you're reeling. To find this out, to consider what this means and then try and get out of state the same day is what some might call impulsive choice making. But it doesn't really feel like you've got options. Not like this. Not now. There are so many conversations you'd have to have that your head starts to ache so much at the thought of it all that your vision blurs. You're not even sure what you're going to tell Eddie, and Eddie knows you better than anyone, Eddie has always known all your secrets, all except one.

You’re sat on the curb when Eddie pulls up, the van making all kinds of noises you’d usually be worried about, the type of sounds you’d start hammering into Eddie he needs to have checked out. But you don’t have it in you to be worried about that right now. That doesn’t matter right now. Just getting the fuck out of Indiana is a start.

You open the passenger side and slip in, you hadn’t noticed how long Eddie had been gone, but he must’ve been gone longer than fifteen minutes, because from the bag you can see peeping out from behind Eddie’s driving seat, he had a chance to swing home and grab a few things. You recognise your backpack you left at his for the nights you both drink far too much and cannot get home. The backpack with all the supplies you need to look like a functioning human the next day, anything emergency you might need. You give him the softest look you can muster, and he nods, the silent thank you acknowledged and immediately put aside. There were some things in your friendship with Eddie that never needed to be said, and this was one of them.

He lets you start the drive in relative silence, you reach to turn on the cassette player and before you can fill the quiet with heavy metal, Eddie’s hand rests on top of yours, pausing you, a gentle quiet gesture, trying not to push too far. But he needs something, he isn’t asking for all the answers right now, he doesn’t need them right now, a lot of it can wait, he can tell you need it to wait. But he needs something. “One thing, one answer and then you can blare Judas Priest all you want,” he says, not taking his eyes off the road, but you feel his gaze as if it were on you. “Just… why Pennsylvania, that’s all I am asking right now.”

It's a fair question, you know it is. You’re getting him to drive you eight hours across States and you’ve not given him the smallest inkling as to why. You shuffle in your seat, feeling the belt across you like a noose tightening. You wanted to run from Eddie because you’ve never been able to keep things from him, he knew all your secrets, except one. He recognises every single tell, he knows you, he has always known you and he can smell a lie from your lips before it makes it there, and you knew this would be no different. But you just need a few more hours where this is yours, and you can put things into order, find the right way to explain yourself, to explain it… to explain everything. Because you know you cannot just tell him you’re pregnant, you have to tell him… everything, and you know he will have questions and you’re not sure how to answer them yet. So you rake in a breath and bite the inside of your cheek. “Pennsylvania feels far enough away that no one will know who I am, and no one will care to remember,” you say, eyes on the road.  

You know he was looking for more, but he doesn’t ask for it. You know he will, but not yet. He let’s your hand go and presses the play on the cassette tape. Breaking The Law starts up, part way through the first verse and you sink back further into your seat, hoping you might just let it swallow you, but you know it won’t. You’re stuck in the long haul now.

The Night Of The Party

You weren’t sure of the dress. You stared at it for what felt like hours in the mirror. This was a party you were going to, and you had an idea about what that means you should wear. But the dress felt too different, it was something your mother had bought you, thinking you were someone else, she had a habit of doing that.

You wanted to slip into black jeans, you wanted to back out, but you'd convinced Eddie, you'd finally, really convinced Eddie and you weren't going to ruin that for yourself. Eddie leant around the doorframe, dressed in usual attire, a band tee shirt with a few holes in it, he'd claim aesthetic choice if asked but you know he has more often than not caught that fabric jumping fences. But he looked good, he always does. He smiled at you.

"You look..."

"Different?" You offered.

"You look like her," he said. You frowned, not sure what he meant until he raised two fingers behind his head to mock up bunny ears.

"Shut up Munson," you said, flipping him off. He meant no harm by it, and you took no offence from it, because it's him.

"Nah, see, there, just like that, you're back to being my girl again," he said, opening the door for you, "no floppy ears in sight."

"And you as always look like my misfit, I am glad you're not wearing the hellfire shirt."

"Are you? I can change."

"Don't you dare."

In moments like this Eddie felt like some wonderful dream, this figment of your imagination you’d conjured up to keep you from being lonely, but you doubted your mind could ever contrive something quite as wonderful as Munson. He stuck his tongue out at you and you flipped him off in return. At times like these Eddie felt like something you could keep, something that was truly yours, and yours alone. You had to share Eddie with school and work and life and the boys, but you never felt lost to those things. Like above anything else he was your Eddie. Your best friend. Your partner in crime.

“I don’t know how you talked me into this,” he said, ruffling out some of his curls with a shake of his head. You giggled.

“You’re like a poodle,” you had teased him.

“Calling me a dog sweetheart?” he’d asked, and leant over you, tongue lolling out. You’d laughed and shoved him back, palm to his face.

“Down boy,” you’d mocked. His laughter had carried you both out to the van and all the way to the house party.

The porch felt like the final and biggest hurdle, neither of you were exactly popular at school and this was akin to walking into a shark tank. Eddie asked you again why it was you wanted to even go. You shrugged. "Feels like a necessary experience," you stated.

"I think making out under the bleachers might be a necessary experience too," he teased, "need my help with that one?"

"If I need any help making out, I will let you know," you retorted before pushing open the unlocked door.

The party was the type of loud where you had no room for thinking, the music turned up so you can barely make conversation, the real sounds that compete with the speakers are the cheers and chants of those observing and partaking in the drinking games. The occasional less than sober giggle of those heading up to empty bedrooms.

"We can head home right now," Eddie whispered, offering you the out, sensing just how overwhelmed you could become. You shook your head. "We can have some drinks at the trailer, watch a movie, we do not have to put up with this, just say the word."

"I'd like to stay," you told him, and you'd regret those words before the hour was even up.

You'd gotten lost in the people at some point, a few drinks in, talking to Robin and Eddie had disappeared into the mass. You'd gotten a reassuring squeeze on the arm as you tried to wade through the crowds to find him. You didn't like the party. It wasn't for you, you knew it, he knew it, and he had been right. Eddie often was. You were ready to find him, take his hand and pull him out of his unimaginable hell and start a sobering walk home.

But when your eyes had finally landed on Eddie, he didn't look at all like he was suffering. He was smiling, leant one hand against the wall as he talked to some girl in a tennis skirt and even over the music and the crowd and the mess of it all, you could hear her laugh from a room away. All flirty and wanting.

And just like that, your stomach was being ripped out and you forgot how to breathe. Eddie wasn’t just yours, he wasn’t this magical creature that only you could see, he wasn’t something you get to keep to yourself forever, and you knew that. You were around Hellfire enough to know that, but it was different then, with the guys, you never felt like this. Something about some pretty girl with her fingers playing with the hem of her skirt as Eddie talked made you want to drown yourself in the punch.

So you had.

You had a drink, and then another, and then another, and somewhere between your empty bottle of vodka and the pile of red cups you lost count of just how much you were drinking.

Each drink made you more drunk, and the more drunk you became the less the feeling in your stomach of seeing Eddie with that girl was noticeable, so you got drunk. You got so very drunk.

Now

You hadn’t been asleep exactly, but you’d been clocked out and you weren’t sure for how long. The sky was darker now, the sun setting and the road lights starting to turn on. Eddie had changed the cassette over and is tapping his fingers on the wheel, not impatient or anxious, just absent of mind. You sit up straighter and he throws you a glance. “Back with me sweetheart?” he asks.

“Somewhat,” you say. Your voice is grouchy, and Eddie would think you’d woken from a slumber if he hadn’t spent every passing minute with you. “I guess.”

“You ready to talk about it?” he asks.

“No,” you admit, not holding back your discomfort as you try to roll the ache from your shoulders, but it’s not the drive and long time seated that is making your body ache, it’s the gnawing dread. “But I will.”

“I don’t mean to push,” Eddie says, and you don’t recognise the tone in his voice, it’s laced with something you don’t remember ever hearing from his mouth. Which is an admittedly strange experience given how long you’ve known Eddie, all of your life that mattered. But that thought brings clarity, this is probably exactly how he feels about your behaviour, how strange and alien it is to look at someone you know better than yourself and not recognise a thing they’re doing.

You sigh. “I couldn’t be in Indiana anymore,” you say.

“I got that part,” Eddie admits, and the chuckle is almost sad.

“I… I am sorry,” you say. You are. You’re sorry you’ve had to drag him into this. You had wanted another option, you’d wanted nearly any other option. But it was always going to be Eddie. Because Eddie is who you go to when you’re stuck, when you need help, when you need someone to bail you out or offer you a hand, when you need somewhere to crash or someone to cover for you, it’s Eddie. It’s always Eddie. It was always going to be Eddie.

“Don’t apologise,” he says, trying to shrug it off, “you’ve got nothing to be sorry for, I think.”

You pull your knees up onto the seat with you, wrapping your arms around them, and resting your chin. “Remember the party?” you ask. Eddie scoffs.

“You mean Hagan’s party?” he asks. You rolls your eyes as you look at him.

“No I mean the beach party at the White House,” you mumble. He smiles, glad to recognise you again.

“There she is,” he whispers. “But yeah, I remember the party.”

“Yeah well, it starts with the party,” you explain. But memories come bubbling back.

You were leaning against a wall for support and you were looking for Eddie, even if you didn't want to see him, not if you might see him with that girl, with his hands on her waist, his tongue down his throat. The thoughts were swimming through your mind and you wanted to drink until they drowned. But you couldn't stop thinking about Eddie, the same way you can't stop thinking about him in the quiet moments, the late at night moments, the moments when thoughts of his tongue and his hands creep all too eagerly into your mind. You shook the thoughts out because now instead of hearing your name on his lips, hands tracing up the inside of your thigh, quietly whispering requests against your skin, looking for permission to have you. It was her you were picturing with him. Her skirt hiked up, her bra unfastened. His mouth leaving marks on her hips and you wanted to scream. So you downed your drink.

You shake them away, trying to start at the beginning, trying to keep it relevant, trying to not out your feelings. “I was two drinks in and we got separated, I saw Robin and she asked me if I had seen Vicky, and I thought I had by the beer pong so I tried to direct her and maybe the drinks were stronger than Craig let on, but I felt like I was spinning out,” you explain. Eddie nods.

“They were strong,” he agrees. His tapping on the wheel has gotten lighter as you start to talk, you know that means he is concentrating on what you have to say, but you know what Eddie is like, his mind runs faster than the conversation and he is jumping hurdles way ahead of the journey. You try not to let it distract you.

“I found Vicky and she was with her boyfriend and Robin said something about getting drinks, and she walked away and I was trying to find my way back to you, but I couldn’t find you anywhere and I didn’t really know anyone else and I didn’t like those I recognised and I needed air,” you pause, letting your eyes fall on the road, watching the little white dots marking the lanes disappear in flashes as the van moves forward, if you watch them long enough they become this blur of reflective light. You’re watching them, trying to find the words to explain what happened next. “And then I saw something, and I felt like I was…” you stop yourself. You can’t explain how seeing Eddie with another girl made you feel like you were dying, not now, you have too much to explain already. “I felt awful, I felt really, really awful and I wanted that feeling to go away.”

“What did you see?” Eddie asks, letting his eyes flicker over to you for a moment.

“That doesn’t really matter,” you say, trying to brush the question away.

“If it made you upset it matters,” he says.

“It’s not relevant to the story,” you say, “you just need to know I got upset, over something, something really stupid and I should’ve have gotten upset about it. I had no right to get upset about it, but I did. I got really upset. And I didn’t like feeling that way, so I made the third bad choice of the evening.”

“The third?” he asks, trying to keep a light tone despite the heaviness of the air around you both, the threat of this topic burying you alive ever prevalent.

“Well the second was leaving your side at all, and the first was convincing us to go,” you breathe out. “But anyway, I made the third mistake of the evening, I went back to the punch. And I drank.” You push your shoes against your palms, trying to ball yourself up as small as you can be, trying to hide from yourself. “I drank a lot.”

Eddie doesn’t say anything to that, and you half expect him to, but he keeps his eyes on the road, hands now on the wheel fully, no tapping, no lightness, and he waits for you to continue.

“And I kept drinking, and kept drinking, and at some point, someone, I think Tommy handed me a bottle of… cherry tequila I think, and I don’t remember how much of that I drank, but I remember a lot of chanting and encouragement and the bottle feeling much less heavy in my hands. I got dizzy after that, and I went to find some air, but I kept walking into door frames, and the ground kept getting dangerously close to me.”

“You were really drunk,” Eddie says. Had he seen you? You wondered. You had thought that after you saw him with the girl, you’d lost track of him for the rest of the night, and maybe you had, but just because you hadn’t seen him, didn’t mean he hadn’t see you. But you thought it unlikely, because if he had seen you the way you were he would’ve made you both leave there and then.

“I made it to the door, and then I nearly fell off the front step,” you say, “but luckily, he caught me.”

“Who?” Eddie asks.

“Just this guy,” you say, really not wanting him to push the matter. “And I was so glad to see him, I know him, we know him, I wouldn’t say I know him well, but it was nice to see a familiar face that didn’t make me want to crawl into a hole. And he was careful with me, and he helped me sit on the porch and get some cold air, and I thought I sobered up a little more, and maybe I did, but not enough because I went back inside and I found another drink. But I got halfway through it, and he stopped me. He seemed concerned for me, he could see how drunk I was and I couldn’t, I just wanted to keep drinking and stop feeling so bad, and jealous and petty because I had no right. But he took the drink off me and put it down, asking if maybe I wanted some water. So I let him get me water, and he was gone maybe a few minutes before some jock was hitting on me, and I wasn’t paying much attention because I was looking for someone, Robin I think, but you can only ignore someone for so long, and he tried to kiss me so I was suddenly very aware of how close he was and then the guy got back with the water and told him to stay the fuck away, and he did. I drank the water and I felt, giddy and I felt rescued.” The way you say the word makes Eddie’s fist clench around the steering wheel for a moment. You try to ignore it. “I felt rescued and I was drunk,” you say, “I was so drunk.” You suck your teeth for a moment, gathering up more of that courage to get yourself through the story. “So, I threw myself at him, repeatedly, insistently, relentlessly, it was pathetic and I wish the alcohol would’ve taken those memories away because the things I said to him, the things I suggested, it was… embarrassing. It is embarrassing,” you groan and return your face to being buried in your knees. “I hate knowing all those… filthy things I said, things you couldn’t pay me to say sober, things I never even thought would come out of my mouth, things I haven’t even thought about, but again… I was drunk. I was… so fucking drunk.” You inhale. “So I asked him to take me from the party, I hadn’t seen you in hours and I figured you’d gone home.” You can’t ignore the flicker of hurt that crossed over Eddie’s face as you say that. That you thought he would’ve left without you, without finding you. But you’d hashed that conversation out weeks ago. And you wanted to let sleeping dogs lie. So neither of you comment any more on it. “So he took me back to his place. He hadn’t drank so he could drive.”

“He what?” Eddie asks.

“Eddie I was so drunk I couldn’t remember my own address, I couldn’t tell him where to go because I didn’t know,” you say. He turns the steering wheel in a quick action, and the van jerks at the change as he pulls off to a layby. You hadn’t noticed how tightly he had started to grip the wheel the more you talked, but his knuckles are nearly white.

“I don’t… I don’t like where this is going,” he says. You see that look in his eyes, that anger, and you’ve seen it before, it’s the kind of anger that makes him slash tires and break windows.

“Eddie, no,” you say, trying to steady yourself, “it’s not. He wasn’t like that.”

“He wasn’t?” the words feel venomous as they drop from his mouth but you know the anger isn’t at you, it’s for you.

“I don’t have enough gaps in my memory for you to doubt me on this, okay,” you tell him. “He took me back to his place, and I tried to throw myself at him more, but he wouldn’t have it, he kept telling me that I was drunk and he was glad it was him that I fell into but no. He set me up in his guest room, and I threw up, a lot, and he held my hair back and made me drink ice water. I woke up in the morning and I had a bad headache, but it could’ve been so much worse. All the things I said, all the ways I acted, it could have been so much worse. I had a shower in the ensuite and when I got out, he had made me breakfast. And a hangover smoothie and I felt a lot better. And then I felt something else.” With the van in park Eddie is watching you very closely now, turned to you, eyes studying every small movement, waiting to catch you in a lie or react to whatever you might throw at him, what feelings you might have that bubble up, he needed to be ready. Because above all, he wanted to be here for you, he wanted to fix this, and he has long lost the thread on where this is going. “I felt grateful.”

Eddie wishes he could hide his response to that, and he manages to not sneer but the irritation is clear in the way he draws his breath in tight. “Grateful,” he says. You know why that bothers him, he has spent years showing you the difference between good behaviour and common decency, and you know better than to thank someone for not being the worst.

“He is a good guy,” you try but regret the words.

“Because he didn’t take advantage of someone so drunk they literally couldn’t remember the address of the house they’ve lived at their entire life?” Eddie asks. He looks sad, really sad and you want to break apart. He sees it in your face and he winces at himself. “Shit, sorry, I am not trying to make you feel bad, I just… I wish things were better for you.”

“I know,” you tell him honestly. “But I’m not done.” He had figured as much, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear where this was going now, but he knew he had to. “I felt grateful, and I felt stupid, I felt really stupid because I could remember all those things I said and I apologised over and over, and he told me not to worry about it. That people say dumb shit when they’re drunk, and I thanked him for being there, and he said he really didn’t mind. And I apologised again for putting him out and for hitting on him like we were dying tomorrow and he shrugged it off, and he said ‘I wouldn’t have minded if you were sober.’” You bite your tongue as Eddie does the same letting his hand squeeze the wheel again. “Eddie, he wasn’t… it was on me, okay. He was good and sweet and I felt safe because of him, and I got caught up in myself and… I kissed him.”

“You kissed him?” he asks. You can feel the memory of his lips on your collarbone, his hands all needy and giving. The ways he touched you, the ways he held you, the ways your back arched and your words become nothing more than whispers. But you do not want to think about that right now. Because if you think about that you'll remember how much you thought about Eddie, and then you might just sink far enough into the car seat that you don't return. Maybe that would be better.

“And then I more than kissed him,” you say. He nods, really not wanting more detail, and you not wanting to give it. “And that would’ve been fine, it would’ve been a dumb, embarrassing memory, and a decent hook up, and it would’ve all been fine.”

“But?” he asks. He is waiting for it, the penny to drop. This nice guy of yours, did he have a girlfriend he neglected to tell you about while he was kissing you? Eddie wants to say so many things, but he doesn’t he just waits.

“But, we got caught up in it, and I didn’t think, and I don’t know if he just didn’t think either, or if while I was drunk I said something that wasn’t entirely true that made him think he didn’t have to think,” your words are becoming riddled again and Eddie’s brow furrows, trying to follow.

“What do you mean?” he asks.

“I think I said something about the pill,” you say, “which wasn’t untrue, but I may have run out and not thought much about how long I’d not taken it, I started taking it again a few days later, and I didn’t think anything of it. Until yesterday,” you say. You watch it process behind Eddie’s eyes.

“You didn’t use…” he doesn’t finish the sentence. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” you nod, “oh.”

“Oh shit,” he says, leaning back into the seat.

“Yeah, oh shit,” you echo. “The party was like five weeks ago.”

“Shit,” Eddie says again, “your pregnant.”

“Ding, ding, ding,” you whisper. You’re not sure when you started crying but you can feel the tears spilling out from your eyes now, dripping down onto your arms and exposed skin. “Not exactly a test I wanted to pass.”

“Shit,” he pulls you in, giving you a hug and resting his head on top of yours. He brings no attention to your sobs as you finally let all the feelings you tried to bury flow out of you. He doesn’t know what to say any more than you do. But being close to him, hearing his breathing, his heartbeat as he tries to keep himself calm, it reminds you of home, not your home, but true home, the place where you feel safe and understood and always welcome. That has always been Eddie for you. Now is no different.

“So Pennsylvania,” he says after a long silence.

“Yeah,” you manage, “it felt far enough away that it couldn’t come home with me, the whispers, the judgment.” You feel Eddie’s posture change, his shoulders falling lower, his muscles relaxing, you hadn’t realised how tense he had been. So it’s not surprising when you look up at him and his expression is soft, his lips gently parted in thought.

“Why are we going to Pennsylvania?” he asks.

“To deal with this,” you say, “and then never think about it again.”

He nods, you knew he wouldn’t try and talk you out of it, you knew he wouldn’t do anything but support you in whatever it was you wanted to do. Hell, knowing Eddie he would offer to take the blame, joke about a shotgun wedding if you wanted to keep it. But in his silence you hear the quiet for the first time, and the question you didn’t want creeps in.

“I am going to ask you once, and then I will never ask you again, and you don’t have to tell me,” Eddie says, “but the guy?”

“I haven’t told him,” you say. Eddie frowns for a moment, and then gives your forehead a gentle flick. “Ouch.”

“I wasn’t asking that,” he says, “I would never ask that, it’s not his business frankly, not unless you want it to be.” You give him a small smile. “No, I just… who was he?”

“You really want to know that?” you ask. Eddie tilts his head from side to side.

“I don’t know,” he admits, “curiosity might kill me, but I don’t think I am going to like the answer anyway.”

“You don’t like any guy that’s taken an interest in me,” you point out, rubbing some of the remaining moisture from your eyes with the back of your hand.

“Well, usually they are trash,” he says, “and I don’t think defending the guy you knocked you up is going to go down well,” he jokes, or mostly jokes anyway.

“Promise me you won’t tell him if I tell you,” you say. Eddie mocks offence, it’s nothing like the hurt you saw in him earlier, when you recalled how you thought he left without you, it’s all play.

“I would never,” he says, “you question my honour so?”

“I question your ability to not want to start something with him, because I know what you’re thinking,” you say.

“Has he spoken to you since?” he asks.

“Yes,” you say, and he has. Not about it, not that you would have given him the chance to. You were so eager to forget anything happened at all, too embarrassed by the entire series of events and just wanting your life to go back to how it was. Just you and Eddie, with the rest of the world at arms length. But he has talked to you, he kind of has to, it’s hard to give silent treatment to someone you work with.

“About it?” Eddie asks. You look at your tattered converse and Eddie has his answer. “Unbelievable.”

“Did you call the girl you hooked up with at the party?” you respond. Eddie frowns again, all confusion now.

“I didn’t hook up with anyone at the party,” he says. You laugh.

“Not true,” you say. Eddie stares at you, blank. You don’t understand what reason Eddie would have to try and lie about that, especially right now. “Eddie, were you wasted?”

“I had three drinks,” Eddie says, “two of which I had with you.” He looks so clueless and you don’t understand it, the girl had been all over him, and she didn’t seem eager to leave any time soon, it had shocked you sick. It had sent you reeling, it had hurt you in ways you didn’t want to process, and he doesn’t remember it.

“Eddie, the tennis skirt,” you say, like it is the most obvious thing in the world. He still stares at you like you’re talking another language. “Eddie how many people do you have to get hot and heavy with that you don’t remember someone like that?”

“I told you, I didn’t get hot and heavy with anyone, I spent most the night looking for you,” he says.

“Eddie I saw you, with the flirty tank top and tennis skirt, she was like half a sentence away from jumping your bones,” you say.

“That’s got to be an exaggeration,” Eddie states, moving to take the van out of park and get back on the road.

“No wait, we need to finish this first,” you say, pulling the keys out the ignition. “She was drinking something really cheap with a cherry in it.” A look of realisation crosses over Eddie’s face.

“Estelle?” he asks.

“I didn’t stick around to ask her name,” you point out, “I was replacing all the water in my blood with alcohol remember?”

“Estelle, Tommy’s cousin,” he starts to describe her in vague detail and she sounds like she fits the bill so you shrug.

“I guess,” you say, “she was gorgeous, that’s all I really remember about her.”

“Was she?” Eddie asks. You laugh and it’s bitter and Eddie can’t tell why. “What?”

“Don’t pretend you didn’t notice Munson,” you say.

“I guess I didn’t,” he says, “like I didn’t notice she was all over me apparently.”

“Trust me,” you say, “she was.”

“You sound…” he stops. You’re quick to respond to that, fear flooding you. You put the keys back in and try to nudge him to move the car.

“Places to be, problems to deal with,” you tell him. He doesn’t move. He is staring into nothing, like he is playing a reel back through his mind, hitting through the rolodex of memories. You’re scared of what he might find there.

“You said,” he pauses. You can hear his heartbeat, as it starts to hammer like an all too eager drum in his chest. “You said you saw something, and you got upset, and you went to get more drinks.”

“Eddie we should move, not let the night get ahead of us, we have miles to go,” you try.

“You said, you saw something that made you feel awful and you needed to drink to make that feeling go away,” he says, he sounds scared as he speaks and that fills you with a whole other type of fear.

“Eddie, please don’t think about it too hard,” you beg him, but you know it’s too late. He is a dog with a bone, and he has found all the pieces, it’s just a matter of time now.

“You didn’t stick around to ask her name… and that’s… I lost sight of you before that, and I thought I saw you when Estelle was talking and I came to find you but you must’ve already been getting more drunk,” he says.

“Eddie,” you say, not even a whisper, not even a plea, just a need to say it.

“And you almost sounded… jealous,” Eddie says, so hesitant on the word, “and that’s what you said you felt, sad about something childish and jealous when you had no right to be.”

“Well, how can I get mad about someone noticing you Eddie?” you ask. “I notice you all the damn time, hell I don’t know how to stop noticing you. But I can’t make other people not see you because it makes me feel small, unimportant,” you sigh. “I saw Estelle in her little skirt and her chirpy demeanour and I immediately wanted to drown myself.”

“You… you got drunk because of that?” he asks. You understand now with one simple sentence. He blames himself, that is the thing he takes away from this. You got drunk. You got vulnerable and drunk and he sees it as his fault.

“Eddie, no,” you say, but the words don’t bring comfort, because they’re not really true.

“I should’ve found you sooner, I shouldn’t have let you out of my sight,” Eddie stammers.

“I shouldn’t have made you go to the party,” you say, “would’ve, could’ve, should’ve.”

“This is my fault,” he says. You punch his arm, hard and he throws you a wounded look. “Fucking, ouch.”

“You do not get to take credit for my accidental pregnancy,” you state, “did you knock me up? No. Did you drink your body weight in punch? No. All you did was let a pretty girl talk to you, you couldn’t know how that would make me feel.”

“I didn’t mean to let a pretty girl talk to me though,” Eddie says, “I only ever really want you talking to me.”

“I don’t know Eds,” you say softly, “I think there are things appealing about talking to someone who isn’t me, like a pretty girl,” you pause, “or guy.” He looks at you with those puppy dog eyes, so brown and lost. He let’s the comment pass you both by in favour of something more important.

“You’re the only pretty girl I care about talking to,” he says. “Or pretty, anyone.”

“Eddie,” you say, “you don’t mean that.”

“I do,” Eddie says firmly, “I do mean it, and I’ve been meaning it for a while, but I thought… how could you feel like that, that hurt and not tell me?”

“What did you think I was going to say Munson?” you ask. “Hey, I know you’re my best friend in the whole world, but seeing another girl flirt with you makes me feel like I’m dying, that seeing anyone noticing you in all the ways you should be noticed because you’re a fucking rarity, makes me feel like I’ve lost you. Makes me feel like you’ll wake up and find someone and forget about me, because I am in love with you Eddie and I don’t know how to process that properly so instead I got drunk and I hooked up with Steve fucking Harrington.”

Eddie wants to say a lot of things in response to that, to ask about the whole ‘you being in love with him thing,’ to tell you all the things he hasn’t said but always wanted to, to make you see that he sees you just the same. But only one word manages to form on his lips and he can’t keep it to himself try as he might it just falls out.

“Steve?”

[grailfinders]

Grailfinders #332: Dobrynya Nikitich

today on grailfinders we’re saying good riddance to Tunguska and the year 2023, but not before getting one last build in! our final build in 2023 is none other than Dobrynya Nikitich, the legendary bogatyr dragon slayer. and dragon rider, it turns out. maybe even just dragon? tbh I stopped reading this event after the story chapter that was almost literally just every character gathering around to say the sentence “Koyanskaya is not Daji” over and over. I might not have a great handle on what Nikitich is, but I’ve got what she can do down pat, so let’s get into the build!

Dobrynya’s a Drakewarden Ranger to have a permanent dragon partner to ride, as well as a Champion Fighter for a meatier axe, and a Draconic Bloodline Sorcerer to grab her armor phantasm, as well as her later ascensions. I mean she’s definitely got a lot of draconic blood, it’s just all wrapped up in a pervert horse. oh god I just realized he's staring at her underwear in the FA art what the hell

check out her build breakdown below the cut, or her character sheet over here!

next up: wait a minute, didn’t we just shoot you into space?

Ancestry & Background

our first question of the day is, “what the hell is Nikitich?” our second question of the day is “do we really want to waste time waffling on what she is when Custom Lineage exists?”

answering no to the latter gives her +2 Charisma as well as Darkvision and the Strike of the Giants feat to fight for better working rights for meteored animals. or it gives you a frost strike you can do once a turn proficiency times a day to deal an extra d6 of cold damage and force a constitution save on whatever you hit, reducing their movement speed to 0 for a turn if they fail. I know the ice axe doesn’t show up until third ascension, but I think a treat is warranted here.

Dobrynya talks a big game about how tenuous her connection to humanity is, so she’s an Outlander now for proficiency in Athletics and Survival. Folk Hero would also fit here, but a dragon is not a beast in D&D, so that animal handling proficiency would be completely wasted.

Ability Scores

I’m not going to lie, this build needs a lot of stuff, so we’re just going to point buy things this time around. even then, it’s pretty hard to get everything where it needs to be. Strength, Dexterity, and Wisdom will be set at 14, the former two to be good with an axe while wearing a bikini, and the last one so we can multiclass, and to make your dragons’ breath a little hotter. Constitution is at 13 so we don’t die. meanwhile, Charisma is all the way down at 9. we’ll need to invest a little for multiclassing later, but she’s not the life of the party. that means we’re dumping Intelligence at 8. not much worse than charisma, but she does leave all the thinking to others most of the time.

Class Levels

1. Ranger 1: starting off as a ranger nets you proficiency in Strength and Dexterity saves, as well as Animal Handling, Nature, and Perception. I know your dragon isn’t a beast, but there’s Fou who… is probably an aberration. well, at least there’s Taigong Wang’s tapir, which… also isn’t a real animal… but there’s the sheep thing! yeah, I don’t think that counts either. so much for an animal sanctuary, huh?

for further bafflement, we’re actually going with mostly OG ranger features this time around. but if you’re going to be a dragonslayer, it probably helps to have Dragon as a Favored Enemy for advantage on checks to track and find out about them. thankfully, most dragons are pretty easy to track on account of their size and their tendency to hang out in the sky. that being said, you need to slay/mount a white dragon before this is all done, so getting used to the Arctic is a must. thankfully, you’re a Natural Explorer up there, so it’s pretty hard for your traveling group to get lost or slowed down. you can also track creatures a lot better!

2. Ranger 2: second level rangers get a Fighting Style, and the Dueling style will even out the damage differences between two-handing and one-handing your battleaxe. you really need to lean over your dragon if you want to hit anything, so a free hand to grab onto something helps out a ton.

you also learn some Spells this level- Hunter’s Mark lets you deal extra damage with every attack against a target for up to an hour, and you can swap it to another as a bonus action if the first gets ko’d. it also gives you another bonus to tracking the target down! it’s hard to get species-specific bonuses in D&D, but if you only use this spell against dragons it’s kind of the same thing, right?

also, you get Jump, to jump. getting onto the back of a dragon after every time you attack is rough without something to boost you up.

3. Ranger 3: at third level you gain a Primal Awareness of the world around you, giving you some extra spells as you level up. I’ve said it before that I’m pretty sure your dragon isn’t a beast, but it’s better safe than sorry, so you get Speak with Animals for free. you can also cast Longstrider now to dash as a bonus action. when your main way to attack is hitting things with a big piece of metal, some extra movement can be very helpful.

you also become a Drakewarden this level, which gives you a Draconic Gift- it’s Thaumaturgy and a language. thankfully, you also get a much cooler draconic gift- your Drake Companion. you can summon a small dragon as an action whose appearance and breath type you decide on. it moves after your turn, but it can’t do anything but dodge unless you spend your bonus action commanding it. you can summon your drake once a day for free, or re-summon it by spending a spell slot. since you can decide on your drake’s appearance and breath weapon separately, you aren’t shackled to ice-type attacks this entire run, thank goodness. tbh I don’t think we ever see Nikitich’s ride use its breath attack. it could be anything! it could even be ice! though we don’t get any breath attacks until level 11- right now, this just gives it a damage immunity, and it can use its reaction to add its element to a nearby creature’s regular weapon for one attack, dealing an extra d6 of damage.

4. Ranger 4: use your first Ability Score Improvement to bump up your Charisma to multiclassing levels. I wish we could keep this lower to match her… her, but we’ll make do.

5. Ranger 5: fifth level rangers get an Extra Attack each action, as well as second level spells! you get Beast Sense for free, but we’re more here for Magic Weapon. it’s not quite the glowy blue axe you get at third ascension yet, but this should help cut through dragons a bit easier.

6. Fighter 1: bouncing over to fighter gets you another Fighting Style, like Great Weapon Fighting. now if you hold your axe with both hands, you can re-roll 1s and 2s on your damage dice. with your dragon, giant strikes, and hunter’s marks, you can add a lot of dice to your axe.

you also get a Second Wind once per short rest, healing up as a bonus action. in most builds this is basically free healing, but even with the draconic wrinkle it’s still a nice addition.

7. Fighter 2: second level fighters can Action Surge once a short rest, adding an extra action to your turn

 this doesn’t give you more bonus actions, but it’ll be super useful later.

8. Fighter 3: third level fighters get their subclass, and as a Champion you get an Improved Critical, allowing you to crit twice as often. again, you can add a lot of dice to specific attacks, so adding them all to a crit just makes it even sweeter.

9. Ranger 6: now that we’re a couple levels in, let’s start talking about how we’ll take down Koyanskaya. if we’re going into Tunguska, we need to get prepared- that’s why this level you get another Favored Enemy in beasts and another Natural Explorer biome- forests. that should help with most of what you’ll be facing in there. probably.

10. Ranger 7: at seventh level you forge a Bond of Fang and Scale with your dragon, granting it a flying speed, and letting it grow large enough to ride on- though you can’t do both at once. it also starts adding elemental damage to its own attacks, and giving you resistance to the chosen damage type.

also, you can cast Lesser Restoration now. it’s not quite debuff immunity, but curing a debuff right after you get it is pretty close, right?

11. Ranger 8: for our next ASI, pick up the Fury of the Frost Giant feat for +1 Constitution, permanent resistance to cold damage, and when you get hit by an attack you can blast them back with ice, forcing them to make a constitution save to avoid cold damage and being frozen in place. you can do this proficiency times a day.

your Land’s Stride exists now too, so you can pass through any nonmagical terrain without worrying about being slowed down or hurt by plants.

12. Sorcerer 1: it’s been long enough, let’s ascend. as a Draconic sorcerer you get Draconic Resilience, giving you an extra 1 HP per sorcerer level (so. 1 for the build) and a permanent mage armor effect as long as you’re not wearing real armor, making your AC 13 + your dexterity modifier. it’s not super strong with your dexterity, but if you’re going to stand in front of 999 turrets this should help some miss.

you also learn some charisma-based spells! light and message are just kind of here because… why not. a lot of stuff in FGO glows for no reason, and if you’re on the Chaldea team they’re going to give you a communicator at some point. Blade Ward is another layer to your armor, giving you resistance to physical damage, and Sword Burst is spinning around in a circle. it’s a neat trick!

you also get a breath weapon a little early by casting Burning Hands. as a level one spell it’s pretty weak, but it can always be upcast.

13. Ranger 9: ninth level rangers don’t get a lot, but third level spells are nice! now you can Speak with Plants (boring) or turn that axe into an Elemental Weapon! this gives your weapon a +1 to hit, and deals 1d4 damage of an elemental type on hit. it’s not as good as hunter’s mark, but it does work on any weapon, not just your own attacks. also, flaming axes are cool.

14. Ranger 10: tenth level rangers get a third Natural Explorer biome like, for example, Mountains. sadly, “blasted hellcape” and “corporate office” aren’t biomes you can pick from- partially because they’re synonyms. that being said, if you’re stuck in the death zone you can use Nature’s Veil to hide yourself as a bonus action, becoming invisible for a round up to proficiency times a day.

15. Ranger 11: eleventh level rangers get their guts thanks to casting revivify, and your Drake’s Breath finally kicks in- as an action, you or your drake can breathe elemental damage in a cone, forcing everyone inside to take elemental damage if they fail their dexterity save. you can use this once a day for free, and you can gain extra uses by spending spell slots.

16. Ranger 12: now that we have multiclassing and feat stuff done, we can finally get a handle on your Strength for more accurate and damaging attacks.

17. Ranger 13: thirteenth level rangers get fourth level spells, letting you get in touch with your wild side and become a Guardian of Nature. there’s two ways to use this spell, but we’re here entirely for the first, turning you into a cat monster… turning you into more of a cat monster, increasing your walking speed and darkvision distance, and giving advantage and bonus damage to strength-based attacks.

18. Ranger 14: fourteenth level rangers get one last Favored Enemy, so let’s track down Koyanskaya and end that Aberration once and for all! (she is an aberration, right?)

if things go south you can Vanish as a bonus action, which despite coming later that NV, only lets you hide rather than actually vanish. you also can’t be tracked without magic, but you’re level 18, your enemies have magic by now.

19. Ranger 15: fifteenth level drakewardens have stronger breath attacks as well as a Perfected Bond, adding more elemental damage to your dragons attacks, and making them large enough to ride on while flying. on top of that, you can now spend your reaction to give yourself or your drake resistance to an attack proficiency times a day. it says “or”, but you can always be a rules lawyer and say it’s an inclusive or! I won’t tell!

you can also cast greater restoration this level, reducing the effects of exhaustion or removing one effect that is charming, petrifying, cursing, or reducing a stat or HP total of yourself or a party member. again, it’s not debuff immunity, but it’s the closest you can get in D&D.

20. Ranger 16: use your last ASI for more Strength. it’s not complicated, but neither is Nikitich.

Pros & Cons:

Pros:

I’m not going to sugarcoat it, I’m giving riding a dragon its own spot on the pros list. why? because riding dragons is cool, and you’re playing an RPG to feel cool.

as far as actual gameplay goes, you are fantastic at dishing out Burst Damage. whether that’s piling all sorts of damage modifiers onto a lucky crit, or action surging to blast a crowd with two breath attacks at once, you can fire off a lot of damage in a short amount of time. (also, while it’s technically not Rules As Written, you should be able to easily argue that freezing them in place with frost giant stuff would at least give them disadvantage, if not a force failure, on dex saves, forcing them to take the full brunt of 20d6 damage if you time it right)

as a ranger, you have a surprising amount of Utility for a mostly martial fighter, greatly improving your party’s time while traveling and providing emergency debuff removal and revivals. you’re no healer, but sometimes staying alive is a victory all its own.

Cons:

your multiclassing requirements alone use three ability scores, and that’s before we factor in the two other stats we need for the build to play well. all this means we never really get a chance to get the abilities we want high, which leads to…

weak spells that are easily avoided by enemies. your casting modifier for both kinds of spells is only a +1, so they’ll be whiffing a lot before you reach level 10.

we don’t even get started working on your strength, your main attacking stat, until level 16. even if we skip over the giant thing for later, that’s still not until level 11. you’re not very accurate for a majority of the build, let’s leave it at that.

[currently-stanning-bts]

Who Are You -Namjoon x reader-

Namjoon x reader

Category- Angst no fluff

warnings- none, just some angst, if you don't like angst please don't read :) not proof read, so sorry if there are any typos!

Authors note: This really hurt me writing this tbh. But every time I listen to "who" by Lauv ft. BTS, I get ideas about writing something, and since Namjoon is my bias I had to write something with him in it. Don't worry all my Namjoon lovers!! I'll make it up to all of you!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

You and Namjoon had grown up together and were practically inseparable. But that was years and years ago, now you two never talk. When you do, it is always work related. Something had happened, you're not sure what, but something in him changed. You had confronted him about it one day, but he brushed you off.

*Several years ago*

“Namjoon, what the hell?” you said annoyed. It was the tenth day in a row he had ignored all of your calls and texts. Namjoon looked at you, but chose to ignore you, making it seem like you weren't even there. “Kim Namjoon, if you don't at least say something to me, I’m going to be pissed.” you threatened. Still though, he said nothing. “Please, Joon. I just want to know what has happened. What's changed?” you tried speaking softer, but still, he chose to ignore your presence.

*three years later*

Namjoon was still ignoring you, you had tried over and over again to talk to him but he never listened. One day though, Namjoon came up to you during work. You worked at Hybe Corporation, and helped to form new k-pop groups. You were currently in the middle of packing for a trip. You would be a judge on the show I-LAND. You had been looking forward to it all month. You had been given information about the boys trying out prior to the day. You had even picked out two boys you hoped would do great. You picked Ri-ki or more commonly known as Ta-ki, and Nishamura Ri-ki also known as Ni-ki. You were in your office, you had to stop here before your flight because you had left something that you needed. Namjoon knocked on your door. “Come in,” you said, not paying attention to who it was, trying to look for that one important thing.

Namjoon walked into the room, he smiled when he saw you, his heart breaking slightly at how cold he had been to you the past few years. He truly regretted everything, but it wasn’t his fault truly! People had started dating rumors about him and another idol. Hybe threatened to put him on Hiatus if he didn't get cleared up soon. So Namjoon was forced to act as if you didn’t exist. These dating rumors though, there was some truth in them. Namjoon had given you a promise ring many years ago when he first found out you both had feelings for one another. He had promised you that one day you would be together, just not now. His career was just kicking off, plus, if Hybe found out he was dating someone, he could be forced to leave BTS.

Neither of you wanted that for him, so you thought it best to put off your relationship until he could work some things with Hybe out. Try to see if there was a way he could date someone without being let go. So far he hasn't been able to find a way. That was until today. Today he had talked to Hybe again, and they told him that since all of the rumors of him dating someone had left, fans had truly wanted to see him with someone. This person was someone who he was constantly with, and who would it be other than you!

Namjoon cleared his throat. You picked your head up, smiling at the person before your brain registered who it was. The color drained from your face, and your eyes went wide. You quickly pulled yourself together. “Hello Nam-RM,” you quickly corrected yourself, you didn't feel the need to call him that anymore with how he’s treated you the past couple of years. You saw Namjoon flinch slightly at the name correction. “How can I help you? It has to be quick, as you probably know already, I am getting ready to leave for I-LAND.” you said. Namjoon cleared his throat again, “I-I, um,” he paused, taking a deep breath, “I just wanted to apologize for how I’ve treated you these past few years. I want to explain myself-” you cut him off with a scoff before you spoke, “tch, it's been how many years since you started ignoring me? Three? Four now? To be honest, I’ve lost count. I tried talking to you every damn day, but you chose to ignore me. Namj-RM, you looked right at me so many fucking times, and just ignored my existence. Now you expect me to sit around and listen to you ‘explain yourself’” you air quoted him. “Your stupid if you think I’ve waited all these years for you.”

That’s not true. You did wait for him. You kept the promise ring he gave you so many years ago, but your pride and anger wouldn’t let you admit that to him or yourself. It's funny because the thing you're currently looking for is the promise ring. You had placed it down when you had to do a monthly check up on BTS during their dance practice as well as vocal practice, when you got back to your office, you couldn’t find it to save your life. It had scared you, you couldn’t lose the one thing you still kept so dear to you.

“Please baby-”

“Don't call me that. You lost the right to call me that three years ago.” “I’m sorry, y/n please, just listen to me. I swear I never wanted to ignore you, but Hybe had threatened to put me on Hiatus because there were dating rumors about me and some other idol flying around. They weren’t good ones either, it was negative about me. ARMY tried to back me up with it, and somehow they were able to convince Hybe that I could date someone. It created a lot of positive buzz with the good side of ARMY, Hybe will let me date a person of my choosing! Plus!!! ARMY already knows about you, you’ve been in so many of our past Vlives, and vlogs, plus, they’ve seen you in some when you come in to do the monthly reports on vocals and dance! They want us to be together!” he told you, a smile on his face towards the end, before it went away, being replaced with a look of seriousness. “So please, y/n” he walked closer to you, you took a step back but he continued forward. You hit the front of your oak wood deck, and Namjoon was right in front of you. He took your small hands in his larger ones and looked you in the eyes, “please y/n, give me another chance. I swear to you I won’t fuck it up like I did last time.”

You shook your head, “no, Joon, you can't do this. You can't treat me like that then one day decide you missed me and come running back and think I’ve waited for you the entire time. I don't even know who you are anymore. Who are you? Are you Kim Namjoon, the man I fell in love with, or are you RM of BTS, the man that chose his career over his relationship? I need to know. ‘Cause you're not the guy I fell in love with. Something has clearly changed Joon, because you’re not the same, and if I’m being honest…” You paused for a second taking a deep breath to stop from letting tears fall before you continued again. “I really hate it. I’m sick and tired of waiting for you. And now I know that you're not the right one for me.” you felt tears in your eyes before you quickly blinked them away. You looked at the clock hanging above your door. You pulled your hands from him, “look, I have to go or I’m going to miss the taxi taking me to the airport.” You walked to the door, turning back to look at him one last time. He was just as handsome as the last time you saw him, when you were both on speaking terms with one another. “Thank you,” you started, “for coming to see me today, it means a lot. Thank you for telling me this, but just know, we” you motioned to you and him, “we wouldn’t be able to make it out there,” you pointed outside your office door. “I’m sorry RM, I truly am, maybe in another life where you are not an idol and I don't work for your company. In a life where you’re just a normal person, and we met on normal terms. But that won't be us anytime soon. So again, I’m sorry, but we can’t be anything.” and with that, you left, closing your office door on the way out.

Namjoon was left standing there alone. He felt tears form in his eyes before they fell down his cheeks. He walked over to the door and locked it, sliding down it after. In here he was just Namjoon, he didn’t have to deal with the outside world, being an idol, the rumors or anything. He placed a hand over his eyes as he looked up, tears spilling from his eyes. Why did he have to be such an idiot? He ruined something so beautiful just to try to keep that beautiful thing. He had ruined your relationship, the promise ring he gave you so many years ago meaning nothing anymore except for the empty promise he made. He truly fucked up, now he could never make it up.

*present*

You and Namjoon still don't talk, you had blocked his contact information, and you chose to work with a different group within Hybe. They let you work with ENHYPEN. You had hoped Ni-ki would get in and thankfully he did! He did such a great job too! You had also worked with Tomorrow x Together, you enjoyed working with them. A lot of this helped you forget about Namjoon, but part of you still longed to be with him. But you knew it was better this way. You could focus on work, and he could focus on making great music for his fans and the company. Namjoon however still longed to be with you, but he also knew better. He tried to contact you, but you had blocked him. So to ease his ever aching heart, he listened to your old voicemails and read over the old text messages you would send back and forth. He missed you deeply, but he knew he could never be with you, he wanted you so bad it hurt. But you could never be, you had said that exact same thing years ago, and now he believes it.

[ryuichirou]

Replies

We’re back with more replies! Long ones today…

Anonymous asked:

Can you recommend us any tumblrs to follow?

Unfortunately, I can’t recommend any tumblrs either… we don’t even have a feed here, we just drop posts and leave; I am sorry. 😔 It’s easier to check my tl when it’s only my art there lol Once again, read this as an invitation to share your favourite blogs in the comments.

Anonymous asked:

Hello! I'm the anon from the headcanon ask about TreyRidChe and wanted to thank you for answering! I had to dig because for some reason the tag system wasn't working and I was never sure if it got answered until today! Again though as someone who likes TreyRiddle first and foremost (so the bias was perfectly acceptable) I do agree Che'nya would be more a provoker especially from what I've seen in the manga. (It's really in the way Trey was so much more enthralled by Riddle from certain pages.)

I am happy to hear from you again, Anon! And I am very glad that you found the post despite all the issues with the tags… it’s very difficult to find posts on this site sometimes, especially when there are so many of them, and the notifications don’t work all the time either. 😔 (By the way, here is the post that Anon is talking about!)

Also, I completely agree with you, I still think that their dynamic is basically like this. Like I’ve said in the initial post, Che’nya loves Riddle, but doesn’t mind sharing and ultimately wants his friends to be happy, and he knows how hopelessly in love Trey is with Riddle. The manga panels with these three are so pretty and filled with emotions…

Anonymous asked:

Omg I just saw your other reply about not liking ship kids, I'm so sorry if my previous ask made you uncomfortable or something ;;;

-Idia's womb tattoo anon

Anon! No worries whatsoever, this isn’t related to it and you didn’t make us uncomfortable at all. Like I said, there are certain scenarios in which we enjoy the theme, and if it’s dark and/or kinky, the chances of us being on board are always higher. Moreover, your ask is related to a comic that we posted ourselves, so it’s all good – we started it >:3c

What we don’t like is the 100% wholesome and genuine “our baby is kicking, can you feel it?”, “passing out because he’s just found out he’ll be a father” thing. Nothing against it, it’s just not our thing. I’m also just taking my time with a lot of asks because I want to reply properly, but my brain is small and my limit is a couple of replies per day 😔 This is why I am slow…

Thank you for your concern though! And I’ll reply to you in a moment 👀

Anonymous asked:

Random, but since you imagined you don't like pregnancy tropes, does that also count for MPreg? (which stands for male pregnancy)

tbh, MPreg is not my thing, but suddenly remembered that, that’s a thing. This brings me back to the good old days of hetalia cuz this fandom had a LOT of Mpreg going around, lol.

But in a world of magic and such is not impossible? I mean, Malleus did come from an egg, so like, yeah.

Just like I said in a previous reply: it depends on how it’s used. If it’s just a happy family, and the purpose of mpreg in the story is simply to put characters in the scenario in which they are expecting, it’s absolutely not for us; it could even get triggering at times. Even in terms of kinks, sometimes it works well, but sometimes it turns into a massive squick. I can’t even describe it in a way that would be 100% conclusive; it’s a delicate topic, I guess. If it’s more messed up or if there are darker themes involved, it’s much more likely to work, and with mpreg it has a lot of potential to be messed up by definition.

When it comes to possibility and magic, yeah, twst universe gives a lot of opportunities to make mpreg happen! Be it convenient magic, unique reproductive systems of certain species, or even something that simply exists in-universe. It’s funny that you mentioned Malleus because the idea of him being able to lay eggs certainly pops up in our conversations from time to time… the mechanics of that, the implications, the complicated relationship Malleus would have with it and stuff; there is a lot to talk about. (We actually have a kinky comic where he lays an egg and Lilia crushes it, but completely forgot about it... it’s been a while.)

And Azul too, I think we talked about him making Idia carry his eggs at some point. When it’s animalistic like that, it’s much more fun because it’s less real, more weird and a bit gross <3 which automatically makes it hot because Idia would be freaked out the entire time.

So yeah, it all depends, and honestly goes from -100 to 1000 at times lol, so it shouldn’t stop you from sending asks. If the theme is something that we don’t like or have nothing to say about, we’ll just skip it.

(oh god, good ol’ hetalia days! I guess we missed all the mpreg- or just erased it from our memories lol)

Anonymous asked:

have you ever considered Sebek/Leona?.

(you view Sebek as a top and Leona as a bottom so it doesn’t break your no switching rule right?)

Leona would get a kick out of “stealing” Malleus’s little boytoy form him and setting out to do so.

while Sebek the poor naive gullible croc has no idea how even ended up fucking Leona in the first place let alone that it was happening to get under his liege’s skin…

who knows if it even work to piss Malleus off though.

You know Anon, miraculously we did talk about these two in a couple of posts!

What’s interesting about this ship is that Sebek has no idea where to put Leona in his mental scale of important people: he really doesn’t like him, he hates how Leona treats Malleus, but he is also supposed to respect Leona nonetheless (Lilia and Malleus both remind him of that) + doesn’t like being dismissed by Leona for some reason. So if Leona wants to provoke Sebek into sleeping with him somehow, it’d be easier than one might think: Sebek really is gullible… but if he learns about Leona’s motive behind seducing him, he would get so angry and also disappointed in himself that he might actually attack Leona and get in trouble for that lol

Although the thing is, there is a big problem with Leona’s plan: if Sebek is having an active affair with Malleus (= being his little boytoy), it won’t be easy to seduce him. And if Sebek isn’t having an affair with Malleus, Malleus probably wouldn’t care much. So was the croc dick even worth it, Leona?

[pastara-cell]

FAVOURITE AU IDEA AAAA DAY 17 IVE BEEN WAITING IVE BEEN WAITING IVE BEEN WAITING I HAVE TWO ANSWERS BUT I’LL DO TWO SEPERATE POSTS BECAUSE IF I DO BOTH OF THEM IN THE SAME POST YOU’LL BE READING AN ENTIRE FIC AT THAT POINT

PART 1 (Double Life Au)

—————-

Okay so, This is sorta similar to yesterdays thing, and also, I’ve literally posted about this, but now that I have my medication, i can ACTUALLY write it. TMF DOUBLE LIFE AU- Okay okay wait wait lemme recap then I’ll go into detail, because I dont want this to be a complete restatement of my older post, as its been more fleshed out since then.

So, for a recap, if you dont know what double life is, them it’s essentially the 3rd season in a mcyt series called “the life series/traffic life”. In this season, people are paired up with anothet person, their soulmate, and they take damage when the other person takes damage.

However, with that being the canon, many different headcanons and fan conceps have popped up for it, such as feeling everything your soulmate feels (Physically and mentally). I’ll only give one example because there are physically so many that i’d be here all day talking about them.

I would also like to take a second to say that i’m a firm truther in the fact that double life is an allegory for the fact that you cant be forced until love. Also, remember that soulmates can be platonic or romantic, or sometimes even enemies! (Not like im gonna make zailey soulmates, they could be platonic but Its just not my thing)

So what I proposed is that we take the tmf guys, and we throw them into the double life universe! This au was just a thought at that point, but I have it mostly mapped out now! So, heres a lil thing showing all the pairs ^^ (what no, I didn’t steal half these screencaps from rosypenguins and the tmf suffering bracket…LIESSS/silly)

(The letters to the side stand for what the pair is. R means romantic, p means platonic, q means QPR, and c means complicated)

Now im not gonna sit here and go over each pair, however, i’ll dump some headcanons for the au!! (If you end up using this au, which i totally dont mind, please change anything you want!)

————

-The reason Drean is a confusing pair is because they dont know eachother, or atleast, not well. They’d probably not know how to properly talk to eachother at first. I could see this going from not knowing eachother, to platonic, to romantic, but any way works and they’ll be able to be interpreted as romantic or platonic

-Staisy QPR because yes.

-ran out of people to pair up, and decided “huh, okay then, sadie and maria” and tbh, why not. New rarepair. They go from mild dislike to loving eachother practically as soon as they bond.

-all the pairings in this are based upon canon friendships, my personal headcanons, and whatever I felt like putting together.

-Lia and Zoey are NOT friends in this au, well atleast not anymore. But they’re stuck together.

-Hailey and milly cause i need to see them interact more

-Milly and Elliot totally do a secret soulmate thing, like bigb and grian, but are super awkward about it. Hailey and jake know, and they think it’s hilarious

—————

Enough about the pairings, au facts time!!

-Drew is a past watcher. Take that as you will with your own watcher lore ^^

-Sadie is a listener, also take that as you will with your lore.

-Because I can and Because I will, Liam and henry live in the “relation-ship”. They’re the boat boys. No other pairing lives in the same houses as the original mcyts, Just those two.

-green, yellow, and red lives still exist. Yes they can die. Yes, my friends, this does mean angst.

-Will take place in the terrain of the double life map. Only things that are missing are the structures that were built by the mcyts, the cake does not exist, nor does pearl’s tower or anything. The relation-ship is there but thats an exception.

Mayyy update this, part 2 with my othet au may come out today or tomorrow, depends on how lomg it’ll take me to do stuff. ^^

[ssuperficialspacecadett]

What Do You Dream About?

Chapter Eight of the One Condition Series | Chapter Nine

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 5.5K

TW: Abuse is mentioned in the flashback.

Summary: Mando reflects on how you spend your time in The Crest when he is off hunting.

Notes: Another week from hell unfortunately. Posting today was the only thing that got me through it tbh. I hope everyone enjoys (:

Cyar'ika: darling, beloved, sweetheart Pronunciation: shar-EE-kah — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Mando wakes up a few hours after the two of you had passed out from the second round. He is disoriented at first given the fact that he really has no idea what time of day it is. He knows he got back to The Crest yesterday just after the sun had set on Corellia, but beyond that time seemed to not exist. Time seems to do that a lot when he fucks you, when he is talking to you, or when he is just around you. He finds he doesn’t mind, it is nice to simply exist in nothingness with another person. He has been on a strict schedule his whole life. First training to be a Mandalorian from a foundling and now using that training to work for The Guild. He knows it's not Karga specifically that wants him to return as fast as he can, but he knows that if he doesn't then all of the good pucks will be gone. He knows he should be getting up. He didn’t have the strength to set the nav for the next planet last night so he is already a day behind schedule. 

As if you could sense the storm of thoughts brewing in his mind you nuzzle your body closer to his chest. A wave of calmness cascades over him and, at least for the time being, quells his anxiety. He can feel the tiny breaths that puff out of your nose on his skin and your lips graze over him whenever you exhale. Goosebumps flood his body at the combined feelings. What have you done to him? He pulls your body closer. He just wants to feel you. Even in sleep your body shifts with him naturally. It makes his heart yearn and it scares him. He has spent so long alone and filling his time with work that he almost forgot how lovely it felt to be bathed in the warm light of someone else. But this has to be temporary, right? 

You're only here with him now because you need him for a job. What is to keep you here when he finally finishes that job? Why would someone as beautiful as you willingly stay locked aboard a ship with a man that has to be twice your age and his rambunctious, green, adopted child? That would be like depriving a planet of its sun; a sun that he selfishly wants to keep all to himself. You’re young and have so much life left to live. It would be wrong to ask you to stay here.. You have become more than his employer in the months he has known you. You have become his source of entertainment, his helper around The Crest, his son’s babysitter, his escape in the night, his pretty thing, and his cyar'ika. Fuck. He knows he is in deep now with the way he is using Mando’a to describe you. Oh Maker. 

As much as he loves the feeling of being tangled in your sleep filled body he knows it can’t last. His better judgment takes over and gives him the motivation to get up. Moving you off of him proves to be a more difficult task than rewiring anything on his ship. Whenever he tries to move his arm out from under your head you lightly cry out. He freezes and waits until you settle and then he tries again. It is as if not being attached to him allows your nightmares to come back. His body acts as a wall between them and your mind. It takes a good five tries before he is finally free. He doesn’t like it. His arm is cold now and your naked body looks so inviting. Keep it together. He rolls his body off of the covers and tucks them carefully around you. He slowly moves off the bed so he doesn’t wake you when the cot inevitably pops back up with the loss of his weight. With one last look at you he closes up the door to his room.

The evidence of last night's mayhem is littered on the hull floor. He sees his helmet next to his clothes and gloves that he set down outside the fresher, but then he sees his armor. It looks as if he never spent any time on Corellia at all. Gone is the dirt, grime, blaster marks, and blood. He picks up his chest piece and looks it over. It has the same shine it did the day the armorer presented it to him. How the fuck is this possible? He spots the rag that you had used cast to the side. He quietly says your name to himself as he picks it up and rubs it between his fingers. His lips slip into a small smile as he gets dressed. With each piece of beskar he clicks into place he thinks of how hard you must have worked to get all of the shit off of it. He had spent almost a month there and it definitely showed. When he finishes he heads up to the cockpit to see the position of the sun. 

Turns out it is only late morning, maybe 10:00 or 11:00, and he feels a little better knowing that he hasn’t totally derailed himself off of his schedule. After checking the location of the next quarry he programs the nav and begins piloting the ship off of this Maker forsaken planet. Once the hyperdrive has been engaged he heads back down to the hull to wake the child. As his feet hit the floor and he spins around he is stopped in his tracks. Again he is left dumbfounded. The Razor Crest is fucking spotless. He had thought that the cockpit controls looked a little cleaner than usual, but he had chalked that up to him being gone so long he had forgotten how he left it. How wrong he was. This was all you. A wave of guilt rolls over him as he realizes how bored you must have been cooped up in here that cleaning the entire ship became a way to kill time. This thought only reinforces what he was pondering earlier: why would you choose to stay here?

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

The familiar feeling of a little, green creature crawling up your legs pulls you from your deep sleep. You untuck your arms from the blanket you don't remember having wrapped so tightly around yourself and stretch. The baby squeals up at you when he sees that you are now moving. You don’t scoop him up like last time; instead opting to let him finish his long trek up by himself. That's what he gets for waking you up. When he finally reaches your face he takes both of his hands and places them on your cheeks. He makes a confused sound before connecting a tight fist around your blindfold.

“No no wait..!”

There was no stopping him. He pulls with all his little might and the knot, loosened from your activities last night, comes unraveled. You keep your eyes tightly closed. Another confused screech is let out by the baby at your refusal to open your eyes at him. 

“It’s safe.” A modulated voice in front of you cuts through the child's cries.

The dry light of the hull leaks into Mando’s room as you open your eyes. The child sits atop your blanket covered chest waving around your band like a victory flag. You sit up slowly, half to not throw the child off and half to prevent you from revealing your naked body, and swaddle up your little alarm clock in your arms. You place a kiss on his forehead and stare down into those all encompassing eyes. 

“He wouldn’t stop crying at the door,” Tin Man explains. “I figured if I didn’t let him in he would do it himself.”

“Awww,” you coo down at the babe snuggling into you. “Did you miss me?” You feel a small nod against your chest. 

Finally you look up at the man that's standing in the doorway. The combination of the absence of light in the room and the light outside leaves him looking shadowy. His arms are crossed over his chest and he is leaning comfortably up against the frame of the door. A smile creeps across your chapped lips at his presence. Though you would be lying if you weren’t slightly sad you didn’t get to wake up in his arms. You know you probably look a mess right now. You haven’t brushed your teeth or combed your hair. 

“Give her back the band, kid.” 

With a hung head, the child relinquishes the band to you. You move him down to rest in your lap as you tie it back into its proper place. 

“What time is it?”

“Mid afternoon.”

“What? Why did you let me sleep so late?”

“You looked…peaceful.” He stands up straight now. “I didn’t want to take that from you.”

The memory of waking up screaming from your nightmare floods your mind. You feel a wave of embarrassment crash over your body. Mando must think you're crazy. No normal woman wakes up in the middle of the night yelling at the top of her lungs. Then you remember how kind and attentive he was after the fact. He sounded so concerned at your distress. He actually wanted to talk about what you had dreamt, but you weren’t about to let that happen. It wasn’t as if you didn’t trust him, but no one needed to hear about what went on inside the recesses of your mind. 

“Thank you.” You say it honestly. “Thank you for letting me sleep and … for helping me sleep.” 

He clears his throat before he talks. “Of course.”

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

You learn that the second of the four pucks Mando collected is on a planet called Jakku. It was a “nowhere” planet as he so lovingly called it. 

“People obviously live there,” you try to ration with him. “So it can’t be ‘nowhere’.”

The two of you bicker back and forth about the logistics of yours and his lines of thinking. The baby makes a few chirping noises here and there to be a part of the discussion. You interpret them in your favor.

“See? Even he knows I’m right.” You smile down at your unintentional accomplice. “You can’t live ‘nowhere’. Anywhere you are you have the ability to make your home. Take The Razor Crest for example. It was just a ship before you and your son started living on it. Now it’s home. Unconventional, but home.” 

You can feel him turning over your words under his helmet; barely cocking his head to the side. He gives so little away, but slowly you start to pick up on small mannerisms. It makes your heart feel fuzzy when you are able to do this. A few months ago that small tilt of his helmet would have gone unnoticed, but now it says everything he refuses too. You yearn to unravel him mannerism by mannerism. The only thing you would enjoy more is if he actually told you what he was feeling and thinking. He is probably like you unfortunately: keeping his deepest thoughts close to his chest.

“Home.” He says this as a statement. “Where is home f-for you?” He hopes you can’t hear the small quiver in his voice.

You lean back in your chair and stare out into hyperspace. “Well home was Eadu, but now I just think of it as the planet I grew up on. There isn’t anyone there to make it home.”

“And now?”

“And now,” you lazily roll your head to face him. “Home is here for the time being.”

“What makes it home?”

He has now turned his chair to fully face you. You watch as he rests his arms on the armrests and slides down in his seat. He spreads his legs slightly out in front of him. Normally such a display of masculinity would make you roll your eyes, but on him it's enticing. He is radiating dominance and power. You shift in your seat as you feel heat start to pool in your lower belly. Your reaction doesn’t go unnoticed by Mando.

“Well?” He presses.

“I-I feel safe here. That’s not a feeling I have been afforded a lot. Especially by the men in my life.” You trade eye contact with Mando for eye contact with the kid. “Like I said when I first got here: I learned not to ask for help from men a long time ago.”

He watches as you rub the child’s ear in between your fingers and puff out a heavy sigh. While it makes him feel good, no, amazing that you feel safe with him he can’t help but wonder who caused you to mistrust so much. If he ever gets his hands on them…

“But I’m starting to think differently.” 

Your words break him from his violent thoughts. You're looking right at him again. He still sees so much sadness behind your eyes when you speak. Maker, he wishes the kid wasn’t here so he could wrap you in his arms and take away all that pain you carry. There is so much he still has yet to learn about you. So much he wants to learn about you.

“This is the way.” 

“This is the way.” You smile back to him.

The trip to Jakku takes around three days. How silly of you to assume that just because the hull is clean that it means that there is no work to be done. During the day, Tin Man keeps the two of you busy with repairing frayed wires, lubricating valves, organizing spare parts, and cleaning his weapons. You listen eagerly as he takes apart a blaster and explains what each individual piece does and means. It is magic the way he talks. He manages to turn a tool made for killing into a beautiful work of art. He shows you how to disassemble and reassemble them. He sits patiently with you as you struggle to differentiate each of the pieces. He never interrupts you unless you deliberately ask for help either. Maybe if his presence didn’t make you flustered like a little school girl it would be easier to remember what part goes where. 

During the night, Tin Man keeps your nightmares at bay. He holds you close and doesn’t let go. Sometimes you wonder if holding you like this isn’t only for your benefit. During the times you wake up in the night you can feel him slowly tracing the length of your back absentmindedly. You never know if he is awake or not; his fingers are always moving at a languid pace. His grip on your body seems to get tighter as Jakku grows nearer. As if he knows when he leaves the both of you will be without a distraction to ease each of your minds. 

Finally the ship arrives. You sit on top of a crate and swing your legs mindlessly with the child in your lap as Tin Man prepares to leave. The hull is quiet except for the sounds of weapons being clicked into place. You don’t want him to go. You feel selfish for even thinking that. You are literally the reason he has to leave right now. If you hadn’t had your little freakout in the cantina on Navarro he would have never had to pick up this puck. 

“Ready?” 

You watch as he closes the two metal doors and turns to face you on your perch. 

“I am.”

He walks up to you and the child. You're almost the same height as him now, but you have never felt smaller. His leather covered hands come to rest on your thighs. He moves his thumb gently against your skin. Why is he making this harder?

“Promise you will be safe?”

“I don’t make promises I can’t keep.”

He must have seen the fear that flashed across your eyes because he is quick to soothe you.

“But I do promise to come back…home.”

“I think I can live with that.” You bite down on your lower lip to stop from breaking out into a full blown smile. 

Before he departs he cups the left side of your face in his hand. You try your best not to melt, but it's no use. He thankfully obliges you and just holds his hand there for a few seconds allowing you to soak up as much of him as you can. Maybe he is doing the same? When he breaks away from you he moves down to the kid. 

“You have to be the man of the ship while I’m gone. Do you think you can handle that?” 

The baby coo’s up at his father in response. Watching him go is more difficult than it usually is. When he is finally out of sight you close up the ramp and engage the security protocols.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

The baby must feel your anxiety about sleeping alone for the first time in days because he wails at you when you try to put him down in his pram for bed. 

“What is it, little guy?”

He is wriggling around in your arms so violently that you have no choice but to set him down on the ground. You watch as he hobbles his way over to your abandoned bed and disappears behind the crates. You shake your head as you follow his lead and walk over there. He has maneuvered himself under the covers and rests comfortably on the side of the bed closest to your tote. He has left you plenty of room to lay beside him, so you can’t even be mad that he took your favorite spot. You crawl in next to him and shimmy the covers over your body. As you lay on the pillow you reach up to untie your band. When you move to place it on your tote for safe keeping the child snatches it from you. You watch as he greedily hugs it to his body. A small laugh escapes you and you move to get settled in bed again. 

“Good night, sweetie.”  

“NO!” The yell that erupts from your throat is as dry as sand. You feel your gash rip open more with the force you just exerted.

Alden continues pacing and mumbling incoherently around the motionless body in front of you. 

“What am I going to do? Where am I going to get the money now? Fuck! Fuck!”

A door opens somewhere in the back of the house.

“Honey? Honey! Where are you?”

Alden's body stills at the feminine voice you know you both recognize. 

“Alden, please no.” You croak out.

He spins around and slams his foot into your stomach. The air is wrenched from your lungs by his action. He whips his body down to you quicker than you thought he could. “If you don’t shut the fuck up I’ll make you meet the same fate Bumi did.” The smell of spice drips off of his body and burns your nose. “She knows where it is and she is going to tell me. There is no one left to protect, is there?”

His smile is contorted. Something that you once thought was the most beautiful thing in the galaxy has now morphed into something no one should see. His teeth, once white and gleaming, have a gray tint to them. His lips are chapped and cracked in multiple places. The light in his eyes has been reduced to nothing but a flickering ember. 

“You can’t…” You try to speak more, but the pain you feel is debilitating.

“Shhhhh. I can and I will.” He whispers.

He rises up and walks into the house. There isn’t anything you can do but listen.

You feel something pulling you out of your nightmare. All the darkness in your mind is being eradicated by a blinding white light. It feels so good. You will yourself to move closer and allow it to engulf you. Your eyes open abruptly and you gasp for air. You don’t immediately register the tiny hand on your neck while you gulp down rapid breaths. As you come down from your panic you feel it more prominently. The baby has wormed his way up to your chest and is peering down at you intently with concerned eyes. He hasn’t once removed his three fingers from your scar. Chest still heaving, you move your hand to rest on his back. You know he saw what you just dreamt again. You know it was him that pulled you from that hell.

“T-thank you, love bug.”

He seems content with his work, but not content enough to remove his hand. He simply lays his head down on your chest and drifts back to sleep. You try your hardest to stay awake and process what happened, but sleep wraps you in its spidery grip and pulls you under as well. 

It has been four days since your incident with the baby. You haven’t had any nightmares since then. You know he is to thank for their absence. He still refuses to sleep in his pram at bed time. When night comes you both crawl into your bed and he takes his spot on your chest. You have tried to tell him that you're alright, but he will not listen. You suppose those big ears of his have selective hearing. Once when you tried to move him off of you he bit at your fingers. What a little womp rat. Him bunking with you has made it easier since Tin Man’s absence. You know the both of you miss him. You miss him more than you are willing to admit at this point. 

On the fifth night Mando comes back. Unfortunately, you and the child are already fast asleep when he enters. He peers over the crates into your bed and sees the two of you passed out together. He could have stayed there and watched the two of you for hours, but he has a quarry to deal with. He tries to be quiet as he leads him to the carbonate chamber, but the fucking moron decides to start making a racket. Fortunately, punching people in the jaw is a good way to silence them. When he finally finishes dealing with the quarry he heads over to the armory to unload his weapons. Again he does this as quietly as possible. 

After everything is in its correct place he makes his way over to your bed again. You look so beautiful even in sleep. You don’t have that furrow between your brows, but you also don’t have that lovely smile on your face. He’s transfixed as he watches you inhale and exhale. He never knew something so ordinary could look so prepossessing. He suppresses a whimper at the sight of the child resting peacefully on your chest. Who knew he could be jealous of his kid? You have so much love for a baby that isn’t even yours. You care for him like your own. He didn’t know it was possible, but his admiration grows for you even more.

He doesn’t know how long he has been watching you when you start to stir in your sleep. That furrow seeps back into your features and he can see your eyes manically darting around under your lids. A meek whimper escapes through your barely parted lips. He is still deciding if he should wake you up or not when that decision is made for him. He observes as the child wakes above you and extends his hand to your bare neck. As soon as his little talons touch your skin your body goes slack. You slip back into bliss again. The baby holds his hand on your neck for a little while longer, never acknowledging Mandos' presence, and then goes back to sleep himself.

“What do you dream about, ner cyar’ika?”

Mando tries pulling himself away from your bedside countless times, but he can’t seem to get his feet to move. He decides to sit down and lean against one of the crates. He doesn’t want to be far in case you have another nightmare. He has been leaving you to deal with them by yourself for too long. Well, he thinks, maybe you aren’t as alone as he thought. 

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

You wake up before the child this morning: that's a first. You listen to his light breathing before delicately moving him off of you. Wanting to capitalize on this rare moment of alone time you tie up your band, get up, and head over to the pantry to make some caf. Right when you are toying with the idea of taking a steaming shower your leg gets caught on something and sends you tumbling into hard metal. You don't remember leaving anything out beside your bed last night. You also don’t remember metal having a lap. With the chaos of the fall clearing the last of the sleepy cobwebs from your mind you realize you have tripped over Mando’s sprawled out body. Still laying flat across his legs you feel a hand connect with your back. 

“Good morning to you too.” His post slumber voice is gruff.

You lift your horizontal body off of him and decide to dawn a straddling position instead. His hands immediately move to hold your hips as you talk.

“What? When did you get in?”

He lets out an easy laugh at your confusion. “I got back last night, but I didn’t want to disturb you.”

“Why didn’t you crawl into bed with me?” You look at him through your lashes and hope it doesn’t sound as needy as it feels. 

“Th-there wasn’t room for all three of us.” He says bashfully.

You shift in his lap and feel his ever present bulge growing beneath you. With a smirk you slightly grind yourself down on him. His hands tighten on your hips and a low groan escapes through the modulator. The friction of his pants feels exquisite against your already throbbing cunt. Keeping an easy pace on him you reach up and untie your band. He watches you silently. You take it and cover your eyes. When you finish, you move your hands to hold on to his shoulders. Then you lower your head to the side of his helmet and whisper.

“Is there enough room now?” 

You feel his hands detach from you and then hear the slight hiss of his helmet being removed. He sets it down next to him and reinstates his grip on your hips. You feel his body shift under you as he leans close to your ear.

“Plenty.” In an instant he slams his lips into yours. He swallows the sound of surprise you make with his mouth. 

“You have to be quiet for me, sweet thing. Can you do that?”

You breathe out a yes as his lips chart a path along your jawline. You stretch your neck out to give him more access to you. His cock strains against the fabric of his pants at your constant movement. Something about the position the two of you are in and the added stress of staying quiet so as to not wake the child asleep on the other side of the crate has you soaking through your underwear. Mando can feel it too. The wetness you are leaking out has made its way through the fabric of his pants. 

“I thought about you every night while I was gone.” He bucks his hips up into you.

You bite down to stop a whine from slipping out. He didn’t even need to touch you to get you worked up. His words alone almost sent you spiraling off the edge. 

“I need you inside me. Now.” 

He pulls his pants down just enough to let his cock spring free. You wish you could see it in all its glory. How red and angry the tip probably is from being tortured by you. You lift yourself up and move your underwear to the side. He grabs himself and lines up at your entrance. Your juices are already sliding their way down his length. He stifles a groan as your hot cunt stretches around him. He feels your walls expand to take all of him. You throw your head forward into the crook of his neck at the welcome intrusion. You can feel every inch, every vein, every twitch of him as he fills you to the hilt. 

You use his neck as a makeshift silencer for yourself as you pump up and down on him. The stretch you feel is all consuming. Usually he works you up before awarding you with his shaft, but there isn’t any time. Without that added build up he feels enormous inside you. You can’t help but cry out as you thrust your body down to meet him. 

“Keep your mouth shut or I'll give you a real reason to scream.”

He takes over your movements and begins ramming into you at full force. In an attempt to keep yourself from spewing obscenities you bite down, hard, on the muscles in his neck. He hisses into your ear and starts biting at your earlobe to return the savory pain. 

“That's right. Take me just like that.”

You don’t know if your eyes are welling with tears from the sheer force he is hammering into you at or from the strain of trying not to make a sound. He gips your ass with both hands and adjusts your body to a more forward angle. Your g-spot couldn’t hide from him if it tried. It beckons him like a lighthouse to a ship lost at sea. You lick a stripe up his neck and start sucking on his pulse point. You feel a moan vibrate from within his throat. He is trying so hard to keep it trapped inside. 

“No one fucks me like you, Mando. No one makes me feel as good as you do.”

He curses under his breath at your praise. 

“Are you going to cum for me?”

“Only for you.” you breathe. 

You only last a few more pumps before your walls start to clench around him. It feels like tightly wound rope finally snaps from all the pressure and you are sent hurtling into your bliss. Again you bite down on his neck to quiet your cries.

“I want to feel you cum. I want you to fill me up, Mando.” 

“F-fuck.” 

Your words are his undoing. You feel his neck tighten under your teeth as he reaches his climax. Even in your post-orgasm euphoria you want to make him feel good. You drunkenly plaster his neck and jaw with kisses. You feel him release inside of you. Maker, you don’t think you will ever get tired of this feeling. A warmth only he can provide seeps into your body. You swear you can feel it in your veins. You move your lips up to his and bask in the feeling of him inside you. He kisses you back desperately. You feel him making up for the lost time with each brush of his lips and swish of his tongue. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull your body flush with his. You feel him moan into your mouth and you drink it up like sweet wine. He wraps his own hands around your back. The leather of his gloves pulls satisfyingly against your sweaty sleep shirt. 

A small noise from behind the crate pulls you both from your paradise on the floor. He watches you pull away from him and tilt your head to listen. Your lips are swollen and red from ravishing him. He doesn’t dare breathe as you both wait to hear the sound again. It rings out once more: the child has woken up. You breathe out a strained sigh and press your forehead against his.

“Time to hide this handsome face away.”

You hear him puff air from his nose and feel his belly tighten with soft laughter. He lifts you off of him, much to his dismay, and you scoot over to sit on his left side. You wait until you hear the click of his helmet before you remove your visual obstruction. When you look up at him he is already looking down at you. You can still see his chest rising and falling quickly to catch his breath. 

“Welcome back…home.” You roll your head to rest on the cool metal encasing his shoulder. 

“It’s good to be back…home.” 

The baby rounds the corner in a frantic state. You gleam when you see him. 

“Look who I found!” 

Suddenly you become chopped bantha liver at the sight of his father. He runs up quickly and hugs his thigh. This is home, you think as you watch the two in front of you interact lovingly. Home is safe. Home is where you never worry, right? — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —