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epickiya722 · 4 months

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I'll be honest, I'm going to sound probably all over the place with this, but I tried my best!

Okay, so going back to chapter 252, I see that Yuta was indeed sliced by Sukuna, but what I wasn't expecting that would resort to him being sliced in half just as Gojo was back in 236.

This is where it got confusing to me. How was Yuta sliced in half? Why was he sliced in half? Before this, just like Yuji, he was tanking Sukuna's cuts and using RCT. Just before this moment, Sukuna was also hit with Jacob's Ladder and his guard is at his lowest.

Did Sukuna manage to actually execute a slash that could completely cut through at that specific, odd moment and Yuta couldn't stop it? Or... did Yuta let it happen?

What if Yuta is just... tired?

I know, I know!

Like, I don't know, it just seemed odd to me.

It gets me that in 262, they state that their plan is that if Satoru loses and dies, his body will be taken over by Yuta, but... that was it. No one said anything that in order for Yuta to take over Satoru's body that he (Yuta) had to be mortally injured.

He could have switched his brain without being on the verge of dying, right? Which makes me question when Kenjaku uses the technique, does Kenjaku have to be close to dying to body hop?

That's for another day!

I recently (last week) rewatched JJK 0 and watching the beginning of that movie reminded me just how depressed he was and how little of himself he cared for. Yuta tried to off himself.

Also take note that he is constantly amazed by whatever his friends do. Evident enough against his fight against Geto. In 261, he shifts the attention back onto the topic of Gojo when Maki remarks how he's important to him, too. His reaction is highly negative.

He gets angry, and thinking about what Maki said, I feel like that has a double meaning. Yuta is important because he is a friend. But he is important because he is also a weapon. He is the best player after Gojo that they got, he's the strongest after him.

It's almost feels like this is the moment Yuta decided to just throw it all out the window and take that risk because he was tired, but at the same time he wasn't just going to leave the others hanging.

This chapter does feel a little like the ending half of Shibuya. Yuji is once more unable to finish off the enemy that has been constantly terrorizing him because of an interruption by someone with a technique that allows them to use other techniques and just so happen to arrive possessing the body of a Special Grade sorcerer.

But let's go deeper into this, because when you think about it... Yuta is the Yuji in 261.

There are people dying around him after Gojo is out of commission in some way because of a dark haired villain who again uses the techniques of someone else! Both Yuta and Yuji had Gojo on the mind, but disregarded themselves, however there is a difference. Yuji's main goal was to save Gojo, Yuta has to use Gojo's body.

Here's something else about 261. Yuta is also like Kenjaku here. Both choose to possess a body because the technique engraved in the body is useful.

However, in opposition, Kenjaku willingly seeks out to do this. Kenjaku wants to do this because it benefits Kenjaku. Yuta doesn't want to possess Gojo's body, it's not something he is at all happy about. It's not something he ever dreamed of doing.

While this chapter is similar to the Shibuya Incident, there's bits where it mirrors Shibuya but distortedly. Kenjaku gets away with Gojo at the end of that arc. Here? It's not looking too good for Yuta. (I do believe in him though. I do feel like he will indeed accomplish something here.)

It's reminded that Yuta's technique allows him to copy a technique for five minutes. When Mei Mei points out the three possible outcomes of Yuta's technique timer running out, two of them has a result that may lead to death. Only one doesn't, and that's living on in Gojo's body.

So Yuta knows that he has a possible higher chance of dying possessing Gojo's body.

There's also the case of taking over Gojo's body to use his techniques was a last resort when everyone else was wiped out. When Yuta arrives back on the battlefield, Yuji had his claws right in Sukuna's chest. Yuji probably would have easily ripped Sukuna's heart at that moment had not Yuta showed up.

And I know, I know some Yuji's fans wanted that, I definitely would have loved to have seen that (payback), but I think back to Yuta's words in this chapter and overall what has happened.

Everyone, at some point, had to shed that bit of their humanity to win their fight.

It takes a curse to kill a curse. This is literal and figurative to the story. To be a jujutsu sorcerer you have to shed some bit of yourself to kill a curse.

This whole time, Yuji, probably the most human character (how ironic) has little by little shed his humanity as the story progresses. He's losing himself.

What if Yuta caught that? While we know Yuji didn't know some of the plans doing on, we can guess it wasn't the case vice versa. What if Yuta knew about everything or most of what Yuji had to do to get to where he is?

What if Yuta coming in right as Yuji was about to rip out Sukuna's heart was him saving Yuji from losing that last bit of humanity he has? Keep in mind that Yuji and Sukuna mirror each other, so ripping out his (Sukuna's) heart would make Yuji no better than Sukuna.

Shibuya was the start of Yuji truly believing himself to be less of a human. Chapter 261 mirrors Shibuya in some regards and I feel like the next couple of chapters may be Yuji seeing himself as a human, not a cog, again.

What if for the next chapters during Yuta's second confrontation with Sukuna, Yuji may get that hit of morality back when he learns what Yuta has done, he'll reflect on it and think about himself? What if once he learns what Yuta has done he gets a "do I want to be like that" moment?

I don't know, I don't know. But I feel like this...

Yuta is tired. He has those dark shadows under his eyes that make him look physical tired, but what if that is also a connotation/visual way of saying that Yuta is tired of how his life is now?

He acts like he's in a better state than how he really is and maybe this whole time, he just wanted to let go. He puts on this show though because he doesn't want the others to fret over him and snapped when Maki said he was important to them. He no longer felt like a human. Just a monster, a cog to the system... a curse, if you will. He accepted death when he knew there wasn't a high chance of escaping it.

However, he chose a moment that was "Hey, I'm going to die and I accept that, but you (Yuji) I'm giving a chance". I'm sure he knew about Gojo's plan to wanting a better future for the next generation. He's continuing to pave a way for that generation. Yuta's giving Yuji that chance to still be human, something he feels he can no longer be. He's been in Yuji's shoes, so he certainly know the path Yuji may be heading. Yuta may have the intentions to stop him heading in the same direction he and Gojo were steered into.

This may be Yuta's way of helping Yuji break that cycle.

#thinking about how gojo told him he's twice as blessed #for having the blood of two opposing families #but what if yuta having a mix of that blood is a representation of his inner turmoil?#that's just me #i wrote this like... I've been working on it since thursday and my mind has been all over the place #just kiya's thoughts #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk spoilers #jjk manga spoilers #jjk 261 #okkotsu yuta #yuta okkotsu #okkotsu yuuta #yuuta okkotsu #yuji itadori #itadori yuji #yuuji itadori #itadori yuuji

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astoryisaloveaffair · 5 months

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Fix You - Chapter 16 - Genesis

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x Fem!Reader

Fic Masterlist

Read on A03

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Chapter Summary: 🤷‍♀️

Word Count: 4K

Rating: Explicit

Chapter Warnings: cussing, graphic violence, mentions of sex. I'm not giving more warnings than that, sorry.

A/N: Hey all. First I want to say I'm sorry. I literally had no time or motivation to write this. I'm gonna be honest, this is a really tough chapter, and it was hard to get in this headspace. Suffering a recent heartbreak, things in this chapter are things I have thought also, and so it was really hard for me to voluntarily want to address that. I also started working in veterinary medicine, i do not have the spare time that I used to. We also recently adopted a puppy who we named Bucky! And if you read my earlier posts, you know that I was SA'd last January. All that to say, sorry I couldn't do this faster.

Also want to wish a happy birthday to @musings-of-a-rose, my beloved, my bestie, and my constant support. This is for you. Sorry it's not a happier chapter....

* If a character is speaking fully in Spanish, I will put “[ ]” around the dialogue. I speak pretty decent Spanish but not good enough for this

Suggested Songs: "Exile" Taylor Swift feat. Bon Iver, "I Love You" Billie Eilish, "Vampire" and "Logical" by Olivia Rodrigo, "The Night We Met" by Lord Huron and Phoebe Bridgers, "Genesis" by Grimes

You didn’t even flinch at the landing, which was rough, so that’s saying a lot. When the janky cargo door (which looked like at any time during the flight would be ripped right off) opens, you barely even lift your eyes from the floor. You felt heavy and hollow, somewhere suspended in between shock and just not giving a fuck anymore. The only thing you could still fell was the pinching in your heart. It was still broken.

At some point during the journey, the co-pilot had taken pity on you and untied your arms from behind your back and bound them in front of you instead. You hadn’t struggled. There was no point. Where would you go? Jump in the ocean? You weren’t that great of a swimmer and you loved sharks and everything but the open ocean is not where you are supposed to be.

You have no sense of space and time, so you have no actual clue where you are other than not the mainland. You’re dehydrated as fuck, groggy, your vision’s blurry and you’d figured out the sticky moisture on your face was your own blood.

Because when you had suddenly blacked out it was because they’d hit you, and had absolutely no hesitation doing so. They did not care about you, they did not see you as a human being, they didn’t even bother strapping you into a seat so you had been sliding around the cargo bay the entire flight, bumping into everything. You were in deep danger, any hope that you would have some ransom protection had pretty much disintegrated. You had hoped that the boys wouldn’t come for you at first. Then you had hoped that they would, because if you’re ransom, even if at the very least you’d be alive until then, right? But “alive” doesn’t mean unharmed.

A shadow looms over you and it finally makes you look up, squinting to adjust your eyes to something so close, as well as the brightness of the sun. It feels like it takes you 10 whole minutes to process that you were being spoken to in English.

“Eh!” The man leaning over you snips, and when you simply blink in confusion and don’t answer, he slaps you lightly on both cheeks. You’re stunned enough to finally look at him, his oval face, beady eyes and unique sideburns seeming so familiar to you but quite frankly you wouldn’t trust yourself with recognizing even your dad at the moment, so you push that thought aside.

He kneels down in front of you. “You listen to me. We don’t want you. We want the money. This means if you don’t fucking piss me off, I might be nice and not kill you, you understand? Be a smart little girl, eh?.”

You nod, you probably should be feeling some sort of panic setting in but you don’t. Whatever. Who even cares anymore.

He takes your silence as submission. “Bueno.” He whispers, leaning down and grabbing you by the arm, lifting you until you are back on your feet. He tilts his head and steps to the side, revealing 5 additional men with AKs pointed straight at you. From behind, you feel the sharp tip of another poking your back, urging you forward and down the precarious ramp. The pilots.

You didn’t trust that they wouldn’t hurt you, but you knew you had no other choice. Trying to fight was asking for it, and once you step out of the hold and realize you were in the fucking jungle, there would be no sensical place to go even if you did get away.

You step out of the plane onto a rickety steel ramp that bounces as the footpad of your sandals touches it and shuffle slowly down it. You feel suffocated sandwiched between four men, your hands chafe where they are tied and you have been in the same positions for so long your whole body is sore. Every touch and movement hurt.

You stumble as the ramp ends but one of the men grabs your arm and yanks you so you don’t fall. It wasn’t kindness. It was a way to hurt you that he could get away with. The tiny dirt landing strip is almost canopied completely by the jungle trees, leaving large patches here and there where the plane flew through, not noticeable from far above. It looks like you’re walking to nothing, just a dirt road that ends right into the thick middle of the jungle, but you don’t stop at the edge. You push through.

It’s hot as shit and you felt sweat buildup in every crevice of your body, your thighs are rubbing raw from your asinine decision to wear short shorts to the fair, and you could feel a heat rash growing under your tits that you couldn’t even scratch because your hands are bound.

You walk for forever. You walk until the friction rash on your inner thighs turn to lesions. You haven't drank water in almost 48 hours and it feels like 150 degrees out, with full humidity. You’ve had to stop twice already to vomit from heat exhaustion and you still occasionally gag even though there’s nothing in your stomach to come up anymore. All the years that you did not appeal to insects are making up for it now, they’re all over you and you can’t walk 3 steps without one getting in your eye. The jungle gets tighter and you can’t breathe because it’s pushing in on you almost as tight as the hands on your shoulders pushing you forward..

You start crying. At least, that is what you tell yourself as you whimper and sob as quietly as you can. You know you’re strong, but this is just beyond reason that any normal person could take. And when you think about how this is probably what life was all the time in Delta for the boys, you cry even harder because you feel guilty, that you have no right to complain.

Finally, after what feels like forever, the tightness of the jungle seems to loosen. More open. You notice some of the trees look more oddly arranged than others. As you get closer you realize they aren’t trees at all, but tents and dilapidated buildings built into the shadows of the trees. The huge roots and overhanging canopy of the jungle transformed a bustling camp into what looks like a little village. At the entrance, a line of guards in jungle fatigues that were impossible to detect until you got right up to them. You hear someone speak above you, alerting you to a man up in the trees on a platform tucked between the branches. There was another in the tree on the opposite side. He calls to the man with the sideburns, saying something in Spanish you can’t interpret fast enough, but it’s jovial and they laugh, and it makes you feel like you’re going to go mentally insane.

It’s like it’s not even serious to them. And it’s so serious to you.

You are pushed through the camp quickly, but not quick enough that you don’t see the insane amount of cocaine packages piled up in the makeshift buildings, sheds, and tents toward the back. Men were milling about checking them, moving them and glaring at you as you walked past.

You continue past the main camp, crossing over a bustling creek whose bridge was literally just planks of wood, but you noticed there were tire marks across them so you felt at least safe it could handle a car’s weight. Across the creek, an old stonework manor stood. You can tell at one time it must have been glorious, but the white stone-worked walls were dirty and crumbling in many places, the fountains out front had dried crusty palm fronds and dirt in them and looked like they hadn’t sprayed water since the 1980s.

It was still oddly beautiful. You thought about how this house came to be, what it might have looked like when it had been first built. A beautiful Caribbean sea mansion. A jungle that hadn’t closed in on it yet. Fountains spraying and colorful birds resting on the rooftops. But then you realize that this place has probably always been used for what it is now. Someone like Carl Lehder probably lived here and ran an entire cartel within this very jungle. Maybe it was the same one, just run by someone else.

There was a shabbily made shack to the left of the manor with padlocks, piles of debris piled next to the door. You assume that’s where you would be taken, but you were instead led up the stairs to the manor proper. And as your eyes focus in on the ground while you were being guided to the mansion instead, you realize the heap of matter by the shack that you thought was some dying plantation was actually a crumpled human body. A boy looking not much older than 17, shot execution style in the head and left to rot.

Then smell hits you, your knees buckle and you vomit on the stonework stairs, a scream of shock and realization pierces the jungle, making the nearby tropical birds explode from the treetops. When the sicarios pick you up and carry you through the mansion door, you’re still screaming.

Eventually whoever was carrying you became fed up, and simply dropped you at the bottom of the stairs and dragged you up backwards by the armpits instead. You didn’t even feel the step edges hitting the small of your back all the way up, but you would later.

You were tossed stricken and shivering on a disgusting, top-sheeted mattress on the floor in the corner of a room, your feet still bound together and your rope-bound hands looped through a radiator that was long enough only for you to lie down or shuffle over to a bucket for your business. Everything stank and you still had vomit on your chin so you curled up in a ball and slammed your eyes closed, hoping that in time the voices and smells and fear would give way to just simple numbness. You didn’t hear a female voice speaking to you for several seconds.

Your eyes snap open, skin pulled taut from dried unwiped tears,and you jolt upright to look in the direction of the voice. A woman who wasn’t even tied up was propped up against the adjoining wall, and as you take in her condition you could understand why they hadn’t even bothered. She wouldn’t have been able to run.

Her legs look..wrong, splaying at angles that shouldn’t be possible. They look like they could be broken, but you can’t tell for sure because she was wearing jeans that cover up most of her skin. The jeans were ripped in some places and stained with dark blood spots, the color turning brighter wherever her skin shows through the tears in the fabric. She’s missing several fingers on her left hand that had been burnt at the ends to cauterize, and her face was black and blue, swollen and smeared with more blood that seemed to be coming from her scalp somewhere. Her lips are pale and cracking and her eyes are glazed over and barely open. When she speaks, she already sounds like she is dead.

She swallows and winces slightly in pain, then licks her cracked pale lips.“Is…my…her–my brother. Did you see him? Out there?”

Your face scrunches in confusion, which actually hurts a little and you’re not sure from what specifically. Perhaps you look just as bad as the other girl. “Your–I—I don’t understand.”

She’s too exhausted to even be annoyed with you. “My brother. They took him from me days ago. They do not talk to me anymore. They don’t—need me anymore.” A single tear falls down her swollen cheek and you suddenly feel so much connection with this woman and how incredibly fucking strong she is. Her eyes roll over to you, meeting yours for the first time. There are burst blood vessels in them.

“I think that they killed him.”

Your lips part and you utter a shuddering breath as you connect the dots. There’s no point in sugar-coating it. You nod slowly. “I think so. But it’s not…recent.” You look away as her eyes slowly close, the additional tears she was holding back finally spilling over and cascading down her cheeks.

“Bueno.” She says. “Then at least he is not suffering like me.”

You both fall quiet and you look over her again. Her pants aren’t completely done up and her t shirt is ripped at the neckline, exposing a gashed shoulder. Almost like…

You start crying again, and you feel even worse about it this time because you have in front of you a woman who has been through much worse and is somehow NOT crying. You curl tighter into yourself to try and hide.

But she simply asks. “Who are you?”

You swallow, raising your head up off your arms, quickly wiping the access tears off on your sleeve. It’s incredible how adrenaline and fear can sometimes make you the most clear-headed you’ve ever been. Your thoughts are swirling but you knew one thing for damn sure, if they didn’t know your name yet, you weren’t going to say it now.

If I look forward I am lost. Focus on right now. Nothing else. It’s my best chance.

You know enough about trauma that compartmentalizing this moment is your best chance. You can’t think what will happen if you don’t escape, if you aren’t found, if they never come for you. You need to stay focused. You need to keep hope alive. You need to stay coherent, because if a chance pops up, you need to be able to think quickly.

“I’m no one.” You mumble. “Just happened to be dating the wrong person.”

She sniffs and looks away, but it’s muffled because her nose sounds congested. You don’t miss her tone though. “Mmmm. His new one then.”

You blink. “What?”

Her glazed over, discolored eyes snap back to yours. “Pope.” She spits. “Your man. Santia—”

“NO!” You cut her off with a shout, you know there is a guy who is in the area and you still don’t know how much these men do or do not know. “Don’t. Don’t give them names if they don’t already know it.”

“I don’t give a shit about Agent Garcia, or his friends, or anyone else, it’s their fault I am here and it’s their fault my brother is dead and..” She finally, finally starts to cry. “I told him I didn’t want to do it. They said they would let us go if we gave them what they wanted.”

“It was you.” You exhale with a shuddering breath. “They found us cause of you. You told them.” You shake your head, and for some reason you feel betrayed by this woman even though you’ve never met her. “How could you?”

“Because all I care about is my brother, do you understand?! I wish I’d never met him, Garcia, we would have just snuck away and no one would never seen us, but no, instead we listened to him and helped them steal from fucking Lorea, and now they found us and I knew they would, and YES, I gave them EVERYTHING because they said they’d let us go so long as they found you and–”

“Eh!” A voice trails in with a watchman you knew was hanging out somewhere in the hallway beyond. He slips through the doorway, a smaller man you were not expecting from that voice, and leans against the deteriorating door frame. He crosses his arms and his legs and it makes the handgun on his hip jut out prominently from his skinny hips. “No talking to each other.” His voice is silky and the words all slide together so it sounds like ‘no talkintoeeachother.’

You shrink back into the dirty wall behind you as your associate spits a bloody phlegm ball in the man’s direction. “FUCK you!” She snarls, a tirade of cuss words in Spanish flying from her lips.

A loud pop almost bursts your eardrums and your heart and you exclaim in terror as your associate is shot point blank in the head, her back slumping against the wall and her head hitting with a bang, pieces of blood and brain tissue spraying over the back wall with pieces flying in your direction.

The man remains completely motionless with his arms still raised before huffing a laugh to himself, putting the gun back on his hip, and looking at you with the such an unaffected gaze it leaves you feeling dizzy and you scream and scream and scream yourself hoarse, crumpling onto your mattress in a terrified heap, arms over your head, sobbing hysterically.

A gentle but firm palm wraps around your forearm, yanking you back up to a seated position. You look away, but the man’s other hand takes you gently by the jaw and makes you look at him. And just behind him, the woman slumped in a pool of blood and brain matter. You try to wriggle out of his grip but he tightens ever so slightly, and you can’t help but notice how different it is when Frankie would grab you like that versus this man. Frankie held you the same, sometimes harder, but you had trusted his domination and his care of you and because of that, it made it arousing. That same motion with this man has you more scared than you ever have been in your life.

“Bebita.” He coos, thumb lightly caressing your jaw. He wipes at a small speck of blood you don’t know is even there. You can feel yourself shaking and breathing so fast you can see his half waxed back tousled locks that hang past his temples are blowing in its breeze. You can’t answer him. “Look at me.”

You do. His eyes are a dark, almost black chocolate brown, shape mismatched, a scruffy beard and goatee and thin lips. In another world you would find him devastatingly attractive and the fact that you do makes you feel absolutely violated and disgusted with yourself.

“Do not cry.” He continues. “You have no reason to if you behave, si? You be good and you listen and I will keep you safe you understand? Well, at least for now.” He shifts closer to you, you can smell his breath. It smells like orange and cloves. “There are a lot of men here Bebita. I am sure you understand what this means, si? Answer me.”

“Yes.” A final fat tear spills from one of your eyes, and it stings as it mixes with your sweat and the raw skin around your eyes.

He juts his head in the other woman’s direction. “This one, she fight the whole time. I like a easy job. Make my job easy, I make sure you always deal with me. Do not make me call in the other guys, they are not as nice. Understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” He releases your chin and you scoot back quickly as he saunters over to the other woman’s bloody body, grabs it by the arm, and casually drags her as dismissively as possible out the door and out of your sight, leaving a bloody trail behind.

At first you just sit there in a slump staring at the opposite wall,, you don’t know for how long. Probably hours. Maybe days. The man, whose name you figured out from when he spoke to someone else in the hall, is Angel. Sometimes he would sit up and watch you, as if figuring you out, your body and the way you shift and switch positions when you are uncomfortable, what it looked like when you were crying and trying to keep quiet and unnoticed. But most of the time he ignored you. Occasionally others would come into the room and either speak to him or approach you, but upon noticing Angel watching them they would hiss or spit a curse and slink off.

The room reminded you of those old houses from the 70s that had those drafty unfinished basements that were simply concrete floors, painted stucco or white brick. To the sicarios, it served as an overflow area, there was a rotting desk along the side wall with a metal folding chair and piles of scattered papers and random household tools on them. Against the opposite side wall was a pretty nice tv, considering, which was always playing soccer. Angel seemed to make that his home base, his lithe frame sprawled across a grandma-fabric sofa, head resting on one of the puffy arm rests. He binge-smoked cigarettes and his right hand was always stretched over his head resting against his forehead in the direction of to an end table with an massive overflowing porcelain ashtray on it. You didn’t used to mind the smell of cigarettes too much but now it makes you feel sick.

You’re ashamed of how little you actually think about your current situation and like the hopeless romantic idiot you are, mostly all you can think about is Frankie. The things he said–you knew he said mean things when he was mad, or things he didn’t mean, but isn’t there always some truth to things that are said in the heat of the moment? That was enough for you to silently spiral. You thought about every memory you had of him and how it could be viewed through the lens that Frankie just wanted to fuck you. Your self confidence was low enough it was believable, and your mind races through every instance of an older man being in a relationship with someone much younger and how of course it was predatory, and how could you not see it, that you didn’t have anything in common? It’s a tale as old as time. He just wanted to fuck you, he wanted to fuck you and dominate you, his dark desires seducing you into feeling so wanted you can’t believe you thought he loved you and didn’t see right through it.

And his friends, well, they were all in on it weren’t they, because why would they want to hang out with someone like you either? Why would men such as that actually want to be friends with you when you have never experienced half of what they have.

Fuck him. Fuck him and his lying ass, he was a fucking loser addict and you’re pissed at yourself for even considering him. Like how lonely were you?? To choose an old man with a kid who served in an institution that represented everything you hated about this country? To be so easily blinded by pretty words and love bombs to immediately take your clothes off. Because how, if he actually loved you or even like you, could he possibly have lied about something so big?! Or bought you something nice with all that fucking drug money he stole. Not that you’d want it or expected it, but why wouldn’t you want to treat someone you love as much as he claimed to?

How could he sit there and make up what happened to Tom like that, when you were being so coddling and trying to be a caring ear. And Benny…Pope...if they were your friends they should have told you, that’s what real friends do…

But they weren’t your friends. They were never your friends.

And if you went the other way, and considered that it was all true, that he did love you, that they were all your friends, and that he lied to you and threw stones to hurt you and push you away, how was that any better? You couldn't even think about a future not being with him, but obviously he could. He could watch you cry and question him and not even look at you, completely ignore you, then not even think about you again. No texts, no calls. No “I’m sorry, please come back.” Silence.

How could it be so easy for him? How can he just go about his life like you never happened? Why did you still care?

Why did you still want him?

Why did you still love him so so much. Part of you wishes they’d get on with it and just kill you. At least then you wouldn’t have to feel this excruciating pain. You wouldn’t have to see him show up to rescue you because he has to, to have to see his fucking face and every line, crinkle, scar, the bald patch in his beard and the tousled little curls that pop out of his hat…only for him to save you and then leave again, or die and then you have the guilt of killing a man who no longer loved you.

Yea. You think you’d rather die.

You feel like you’re going to throw up again. You’d let him force his cock in your mouth as far as it could go, let him tie you up and fuck you hard enough to leave bruises you had thought of as a badge of honor. You’d let him cum on your face. You’d let him fucking cum inside you! He’d gaslit you so you actually wanted him to tie you up with zip ties—-

Your heart almost stops. You can picture how his face looked exactly when he said it.

Sometimes rope can give over time.

That’s why we always used zip ties.

You look down at your bound hands.

They’re bound with rope.

#fix you fic #triple frontier fanfic #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #frankie catfish morales x you #frankie catfish morales x reader #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfic

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jils-things · 6 months

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I would never fall in love again until I found her

I said, "I would never fall unless it's you I fall into"

I was lost within the darkness, but then I found her

I found you

[3.25.23]

ouueeehh we're back to my corny love letters like last time �� again absolutely NO pressure reading these, because it WILL get lengthy 💜 this also serves as a personal love letter that i can archive!

ahh, steven st.one. a wild card in my f/o list. i never thought i'd find myself to like him... i've always tried my best to avoid the pretty boy design after i've gotten older which is why i was oddly in denial during my early steven days hehe... the earliest memory i have of him is just me battling him in my ruby emulator back in the 4th grade - but i don't think i actually remembered him too well, i only thought he looked like a silly anime version of the classical composer be.ethoven and tbh, i still like to think he does look like him in the rse style lolll 💜

for the whole, actual story - it was just last year - i was reading the r/s arc, of course. it was one of those days in school where i had nothing much to do and snuck my phone to read manga to pass some time. at some point, my classmate joined to read with me - it was at this moment where steven debuts properly and it caught my classmate by Surprise. she thought he looked very handsome! to which i teased her... strangely enough, this exchange impacted me? maybe it's because someone acknowledged what i was doing and even bothered to briefly read along with me - so in a way steven kinda bookmarked that memory.

so after that exchange, i just kept on reading. everytime he had something to say, i couldn't help but just stare at his face? he looked nice, i guess? he's also very gentle and polite... i kept this thought of mine for quite sometime until i was discussing the manga arc with my p.okespe mutual and he mentioned him. i somewhat confessed he looked nice and that was the biggest mistake i've ever done because what my friend did after was absolutely blow me with art after art of the pretty rock collector and i was STRUGGLING. it ultimately came down to this one cute panel in the o.ras chapter where he was blushing and I wasn't the same person since then 🚶🚶🚶and funnily enough, i told myself I wasn't going to fall for anyone because of the manga and whoopedoo p.okespe!steven my beloved the greatest man ever. i mean i love the game counterpart as well, they're nearly identical - it's just the manga that totally swept me... sighhhh

steven is such a nice character to begin with, he's honestly a very humble and nice champion. he's not showy about his identity and would rather be alone by himself to indulge in what he wants. he is willing to give up a very respectable position in the po.kemon league just to pursue his interests and with that i see a man not after power and fame but a man who just wants to find joy in what he does even if it demotes him. on top of that, he's just a sweet gentleman. he was raised well of course, and you can see it clearly in his acts in the story. i love him very much for that and who wouldn't want those traits?

i was really absolutely embarrassed to be all over this guy at first - it took a whole month for me to actually share to my blog about how i liked steven and took awhile to adjust to that fact that i opened up about it 😭 but the community was very kind and supportive about the pairing and if i'm being honest, i think stevaide made a super lasting impact on my blog recently and it's really so comforting to picture them as a young loving married couple with ruby. it made me feel unashamed with what i can do with my silly ships. i'm still very glad for the endless support for steven and jaide.

soo, yes. happy memoryshipping 💜💚 thank you for making my times of struggle more bearable if not perfect and thank you to everyone who enjoys this ship even if it was just a little bit :]

credits to @/cafekitsune <3

#~ art #pokemon selfship #selfship #selfshipping #selfship community #safeshipping #there it is guys... the day #so glad i was able to make this before i got busy and i really havent been drawing anything fun so!!! ahhh #this is currently my wallpaper since rendering it and i LOVE it to bits #also yay full reveal of that chibi doodle hehehehhe #iim so happy yippepeieeyeyeee #♥️ memoryshipping

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fortheloveofwonderland · 10 months

Text

Me & You & Everyone We Know | Chapter 17 | S.R

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Chapter Summary - Spencer struggles with the side effects of his medication before his worlds collide. Secrets and feelings come rushing to the surface causing Spencer to battle with his alcoholism.

Pairing - Single Dad! Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - hurt/comfort, angst with happy ending, smut minors DNI.

Warnings - antidepressant side effects, erectile dysfunction, making out, brief mention of oral (fem! Receiving), talk of therapy, Spencer struggles with his drinking, mentions of failed masturbation, swearing, drinking, break ups.

WC - 5.8k

Chapter 17 - Someone You Loved

I’m going under and this time I fear there's no one to save me,

This all or nothing really got a way of driving me crazy.

I need somebody to heal,

Somebody to know,

Somebody to have,

Somebody to hold.

It's easy to say,

But it's never the same,

I guess I kinda liked the way you numbed all the pain.

“I swear this has nothing to do with you.” Spencer tried to insist, a look of mortification on his face.

Blair pulled the sheets up around her naked body, looking as uncomfortable as Spencer did.

“I mean, I guess you wouldn’t tell me if it was.” She chewed on her bottom lip.

The girls left for California yesterday and tonight Spencer had taken Blair to the movies before they’d ventured back to his house.

The moment they’d walked through the door things had grown hot and heavy, a trail of clothes left between the front door and his bedroom.

They made out fiercely for some time but nothing was happening for Spencer. Even once she was naked and he pawed at her body, there was no movement downstairs.

He’d gone down on her in the hopes it would awaken his lifeless cock. Usually it would have worked, worshipping a woman with his tongue was one of his most favourite activities.

But even still, his cock would not cooperate.

Eventually Blair had shied away, clearly thinking his dicks lack of interest was her fault.

“Goddamnit,” he shook his head as the realisation washed over him. “It’s my meds.”

“Meds?” Blair tentatively asked.

Spencer sighed, his whole body heaving as he did so. This wasn’t how he wanted to tell her about this, he wasn’t sure he planned on telling her at all if truth be told.

“When you looked after the girls for me last week, I didn’t have a work thing. I had my first therapy session.” He would so much rather have this conversation with more clothes on.

Blair shuffled up in the bed, keeping the sheet pulled tightly around her as she lent against the pillows.

“Why did you lie to me?” She looked at him curiously.

“We’d be on one date, I didn’t want to freak you out. My doctor prescribed me antidepressants. I’ve been taking them for almost a week and she said within a week I might start noticing some side effects. One of which being…”

“Erectile dysfunction.” Blair fielded when he trailed off.

He pulled face and nodded, raking his fingers through his messy hair.

“It won’t last forever. I did some research. Supposedly within fourteen days I should start to see the side effects wear off.” He hung his head.

“You could have told me,” she placed her hand on his arm. “It’s ok Spencer. There’s nothing wrong with admitting you need a little help.”

“I just didn’t want you to think I was some kind of basket case.” He glanced at her.

“I don’t.” She insisted, smiling softly at him. “But from now on you’re going to need to be honest with me ok?”

“You’re not leaving?”

“Why would I leave?”

“Because…” he trailed off, nodding his head in the direction of his crotch.

“I can wait.” She squeezed his arm. “And I didn’t exactly come away empty handed in this situation.”

“No, you did not.” That was just me.

“So no more secrets?”

“There is one more thing I should tell you,” He shuffled in the bed so he could get a better look at her. “On our date I didn’t drink. And that’s because I’ve recently quit drinking.”

She narrowed her eyes on him, scrutinising him. It made him feel uncomfortable.

“You had a problem?” Her eyebrows knitted together.

“I guess. I’ve been drinking a lot since my wife left, only when my kids aren’t home. I’ve battled addiction once before, a long time ago and I didn’t want it to get to that point again. So I’ve quit drinking all together.” He pursed his lips, waiting for her reaction.

“And you didn’t tell me because of what I told you about my ex.” She nodded.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “There are a lot of men out there who have way less issues than me, way less complications. I would totally understand if you wanted to walk away before this gets serious.”

Her expression was curious as she looked at him, lip twitching slightly at the corner. She took hold of his hand in hers.

“Why would I want to walk away?” Her smile grew until it encompassed her face.

“So many reasons.” He laughed but Blair leaned in and kissed him.

“I like you Spencer, you aren’t going to scare me away so easily.” She mumbled against his lips.

“Good to know,” he cupped her face, placing a kiss on her forehead.

“Before I forget, my gallery is having this big, fancy show on Tuesday night. I wondered if you wanted to come? I’ll be working up until the show starts and I might have to do some running around during the night but for the most part I should be able to enjoy it with you.”

“I’m pretty good with my own company so even if you do need to run off I can take care of myself.” He smiled at her.

“So that’s a yes?” Her eyes sparkled.

“Yes, I’d love to come.” He kissed her again and rolled her back to the mattress, climbing on top of her.

She giggled into the kiss, wrapping her arms around him.

“What are you doing?” She laughed, his lips trailing down her neck towards her collarbones.

“Just because I can’t exactly show it right now, doesn’t mean for a second that I don’t love being between your legs.” He spoke against her skin and she moaned at his words.

His lips continued lower and her fingers threaded into his messy locks when he started kissing across the planes of her stomach. Soon his head was dipping lower and Blair’s eyes rolled back in her head.

Spencer was only mildly disappointed when he still couldn’t get it up.

***

You smiled sleepily as Sam strolled back in the room, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers and carrying two glasses of water. He got back into bed and handed you one, which you sipped before setting on the nightstand.

“I think I’m going to sleep for a week.” Your head flopped to your pillow.

“Me too,” he chuckled, laying down to face you. “But I have to say, I very much enjoyed skipping our dinner plans for this.”

“Agreed.” Your eyes started to flutter closed.

You’d spent the whole evening in bed together, exploring each other’s body and finding new ways to get each other off. It had been fun but you were still yearning for more, for someone else.

Sam was good in bed, great really. But he couldn’t make you come with the ease in which Spencer always had. Sometimes it didn’t even seem as though Spencer needed to try.

You hadn’t meant to think about him, but at some point during the night he’d just slipped to the forefront of your mind and once he was there, you couldn’t get rid of him.

It was good with Sam but there was something missing. That spark of passion, that desperation. Hopefully one day you’d be able to stop thinking about your ex, but today certainly wasn’t that day.

“Before you fall asleep,” Sam spoke, tucking your hair gently behind your ear. “A guy at work’s wife is an up and coming artist and she’s showing in some gallery in the district on Tuesday night. He got us all tickets and I’ve got a plus one.”

“An art show?” You opened your eyes.

“Yep. Super fancy apparently.” He smiled at you.

“That sounds amazing. Let’s do it.” You pulled him close by his broad shoulder and kissed him.

“Great, I can’t wait.” He settled down and pulled you into his arms.

Your head found purchase on his chest and you tried to focus on the rhythmic beating of his heart. He held you close, placing sporadic kisses on the top of your head.

Maybe one day you would grow to love him. If you could learn how to stop loving Spencer first.

***

The girls called everyday to regale Spencer with stories from California. And despite herself, Daisy was actually having a lot of fun.

It at least allowed Spencer to worry less about one aspect of his life.

He dressed in his best suit, crisp white button down, black jacket and slacks paired with a black tie. He even passed on his trusty converse and went with his black dress shoes instead.

He shaved, slicked his hair back off of his face in the hopes it wouldn’t look so messy. He spritzed a little of an old bottle of cologne he found in the back of the bathroom cabinet.

Forgoing his satchel he slipped his keys, phone and wallet in his pocket along with the art show invite.

Blair was already at the gallery setting up and she was meeting him there. And for some reason Spencer was incredibly nervous.

It occurred to him that there would be alcohol at this event and he wasn’t sure he had the strength to be around that much temptation.

He’d had his second therapy session this morning and spoken to Doctor Sanchez about it at length.

He felt better for talking about it but he was still concerned. Maybe he’d need a meeting again soon, he was certainly craving something to take the edge off.

It didn’t help being alone in his stupidly large house. The girls had been gone for four days, the longest he’d been on his own in this house for.

It was too quiet all the time, too big and empty and lonely. Honestly he couldn’t wait for them to come home.

He had Taco he supposed but that somehow made the situation more depressing.

At Luke’s instruction Spencer had installed a child gate at the bottom of his stairs to stop Taco having the run of the house. The dog needed boundaries and thus he was now only allowed on the ground floor, something Spencer was glad about but knew his kids wouldn’t be.

Luke advised to try and leave him home on his own more and not let him get used to kennels. He told him to shut Taco in the kitchen when he went out, so as to limit any destruction he may cause.

Spencer had moved the dog's bed into the kitchen, in the corner next to the fridge. Luke told him to ensure he had food and plenty of water and even leave a couple of toys out for him to play with when he was bored, hopefully to stop him attacking anything that didn’t belong to him.

So far Taco had not had another rampage during the small windows Spencer left him alone. Luke’s advice seemed to be working and he wasn’t sure why he was surprised about that, clearly Luke knew what he was doing.

Tomorrow Luke was coming over and they were going to take Taco to an enclosed dog park so Spencer could start to train him off lead around other dogs. Aside from Roxy, Taco was not very good with other dogs, usually hiding behind Spencer when one came near. Roxy was the exception to his rule.

He’d also, somewhat reluctantly, talked to his Doctor about his problem with the meds. He really did not enjoy talking about the fact he couldn’t get hard but it was starting to get on his nerves.

He’d spent a lot of time the past few days trying to masturbate. Trying and failing miserably. At best he’d managed to get a semi, but even when he did it didn’t last long before he was flaccid again.

He felt like he was being betrayed by his own anatomy, like it had turned against him. Since he was a teenager and discovering self pleasure for the first time, Spencer had never once had a problem getting it up.

Doctor Sanchez assured him those side effects would lessen over time and unfortunately he needed to exercise patience. He didn’t feel particularly patient though. He just wanted to have a goddamn orgasm.

He had a half hour until the gallery opened and so he shut Taco in the kitchen, bid him adieu and left the house, trying to leave thoughts of that nature at home.

***

You cautiously pushed open the door of the chic looking art gallery, handing your invite over to the man on the door. You swallowed nervously and stepped inside.

It was already packed, although admittedly you were running a little late. Today was the deadline for your final thesis and you’d used every available minute you could to perfect it.

If all went well you could have your doctorate in a few months but you didn’t want to get ahead of yourself. You were using tonight as an excuse to get out of your head and just have some fun.

You spotted Sam with ease, at six foot five he towered over the crowds. He saw you too and grinned wildly at you, making a beeline for you.

“Holy shit,” he gasped, eyes grazing up and down your body. “You look phenomenal.”

You felt your cheeks redden and you rolled your lip between your teeth. You’d found the dress in the back of your closet, you hadn’t had an excuse to wear it in years.

It was a black, one shoulder, floor length garment which hugged your curves in all the right places. It had a slit up one side, all the way to your thigh.

Sam looked much like the cat that got the cream.

“Thanks,” you shrugged. “You did say fancy.”

“I did say that. And you delivered.” He placed his hand on your lower back and kissed you gently.

He didn’t look so bad himself. You’d never seen him in a suit before and he looked devilishly handsome, even if the fabric of his jacket looked as though it struggled to contain his large biceps.

In another life, he could have been a football player, he certainly had the build for it. He played in high school but ended up following in his father’s footsteps and becoming a lawyer, a very well respected one at that.

“I want to show you off, is that ok?” He motioned you forward with his hand still on your back.

“I didn’t get this dressed up for nothing.” You smirked.

He picked up two champagne flutes from a passing waiter and handed you one before continuing to lead you forward towards the group of his work colleagues. You took a sip of your drink as you walked and accidentally nudged against someone.

“Oh gosh, I’m sorry.” The woman halted in her tracks, her large icy blue eyes full of apologies.

Her long dark hair was curled to frame her petite face. She wore a stunning satin blue dress that cut off at the knees and she held a clipboard under one arm.

“Don’t be, it was my fault.” You smiled at her.

Sam removed his hand from your back and nodded in the direction of his colleagues, wordlessly telling you to join him before he headed over.

“I think I was a little to blame, I’m getting a bit flustered.” She laughed lightly, a nice, easy sound as she motioned to the clipboard. “It’s my first big event.”

“You’re an artist?” You found yourself asking, this woman was extremely easy to talk to.

“Oh no,” she laughed again with a shake of her head. “I’m the manager here. Just making sure things are running smoothly before I can enjoy my night. I think my date would appreciate it, he’s looking a little like a spare part…I’m sorry I have no idea why I’m telling you all of this.”

“It’s fine.” You smiled at her, hoping to calm her. “For the record this place looks great. I mean I don’t know much about art shows but it looks like it's going pretty well.”

“Thank you, even if you don’t know what you’re talking about that means a lot.” She laughed yet again before holding her hand out. “I’m Blair.”

“Y/N.” You shook her hand.

“Nice to meet you. Perhaps once things have calmed down we can have a drink.” Blair shrugged awkwardly.

“I’d like that.” You nodded. “Come find me when you have a chance.”

Blair left you with a nod of agreement before she carried on with her rounds. You took a breath and sidled up to Sam who was laughing heartily at something one of his friends had said.

When he felt you at his side he was quick to put his arm around you, looking at you with pride swelling in his chest.

“Everyone, this is my gorgeous date, Y/N.” He beamed. “Y/N, this is Sampson, Richards, Sinclair and Montgomery.”

“Hi,” you waved at the group. “It’s so nice to meet you all, Sam has told me so much about all of you.”

You fell into conversation with the group, nuzzling against Sam’s side, watching him converse with these men. He was clearly in his element, a side of him coming out you hadn’t seen before.

He was more confident, he laughed in a way you’d never heard him laugh before. Perhaps it was the kind of fake laugh he used around colleagues, a persona he’d created to fit in with the other lawyers at his firm.

You mostly stayed silent, only speaking if someone asked you a direct question. The more time you spent with Sam and his work friends, the less you felt like you fit into his world.

When it was just the two of you things were wonderful, but after seeing him tonight with his colleagues you weren’t sure you liked this side of him. He was a little smarmy, making inappropriate jokes just to fit in with the other men. This wasn’t the Sam you’d known in college, and it wasn’t the Sam you’d gotten reacquainted with recently.

You knew it was probably just an act but that still didn’t mean you liked it. And perhaps all those doubts you’d had about him in the back of your mind were coming to the surface all at once and flooding your senses.

But you were sure of one thing. As you stood there like some kind of trophy on his arm, you knew you and Sam had no future together. It was possible after tonight you wouldn’t even have a tomorrow.

***

Spencer made the rounds, eyeing each of the pieces of art hanging on the stark white walls in slight confusion. He understood that art was subjective but he did not understand any of these paintings.

Art had never been his thing. He had a few pieces in his home but they had been Maeve’s decorating choice not his.

Maybe if Blair would stop running around like a headless chicken for two minutes she could explain some of this stuff to him. Or better yet maybe they could make out in the corner instead.

He tried to keep his head down and ignore the near constant passing trays of champagne. He would give his right arm for a drink right about now, even if only to stem his boredom.

After taking in the artwork he settled over by a back wall, slowly sipping a glass of water. He wanted to go home, being alone with his dog had to be better than being alone in a crowded room.

Time passed painfully slowly, like it may have actually stopped altogether. This was not quite the night Spencer had in mind.

It was well over an hour since he’d arrived when Blair, in a blur of blue satin, headed his way. Her clipboard was gone, and he perked up.

“Are you done with work now? At the risk of sounding like Lily, I’m so bored.” He held his arms open for her and she embraced him, giving him a chaste kiss.

“I think so.” She smiled guiltily. “I’m sorry I dragged you here.”

“I don’t mind being dragged places as long as I actually get to spend time with you.”

“I’m all yours now, I swear.” She stroked his cheek. “Have I told you how handsome you look tonight?”

“It was implied.” He smirked. “You look absolutely incredible.”

“I don’t scrub up half bad, do I?” She giggled.

“You most certainly do not.”

“I met this woman earlier. She looked almost as out of place as you do and I wanted to find her, make sure she was alright.”

“You just can’t turn off that mom-brain can you?” He teased, kissing her cheek. “Let’s go.”

“You’re sure? I’m sorry, I know this isn’t the night you had planned.” She pouted her apology.

“It’s fine, it’s cute that you care so much.”

“I mean I wouldn’t take in stray dogs like some people.”

“I’d like to see you try and say no to my girls. Honestly it’s impossible. Those damn little pleading eyes and when they pout it rips me apart.” He held his hand to his chest.

“You’re a softy.” Blair teased, slipping her hand in his and forcibly removing him from where he’d been leaning against the wall.

He pulled a face, slightly wounded by her words. He knew she hadn’t meant them in the way he’d taken them but he couldn’t help find the second meaning to it.

Clearly she noticed him tense and she looked at him, quickly realising her error.

“Not like that. I’m sorry I didn’t mean…” she trailed off and Spencer filled in the blanks in his head.

You didn’t mean to reference the fact I can’t get a goddamn erection.

“I know you didn’t.” He tried to shake it off. “Just touched a nerve.”

“I’m sorry. Poor choice of words.” She squeezed his hand.

“It’s fine, it’s just a sensitive topic.”

“It’s still not…?”

“Cooperating? No.” He shook his head.

“I mean I’m kinda glad it wasn’t just me.” She shrugged.

“Trust me it is not just you.” He sighed. “But I would really rather not be talking about my sexual problems right now.”

“Of course. Let’s go mingle shall we?” She squeezed his hand again.

“Sure.” He nodded, swallowing down his embarrassment.

He let Blair lead him through the crowds, talked amicably to people she was trying to schmooze into buying the very expensive artwork.

Spencer felt tense, tenser than he had already felt now his erectile issues were playing on his mind again.

If he couldn’t even muster a little excitement seeing Blair in that sinfully tight dress, he knew he was fucked.

On top of everything else this was literally the last thing he needed to be dealing with. He already had two kids who barely listened to him, he didn’t need the same treatment from his dick.

Life was unusually cruel. But it was about to get a whole lot crueller.

***

After an hour of listening to Sam and his lawyer friends you were so ready for this night to be over.

You’d consumed three glasses of champagne but you didn’t feel the nice buzz you were hoping for. You kept checking the time on your phone, praying for this night to end so you could leave.

And you were sure it would be you and Sam’s last date.

Sure he was lovely and sweet when it was just the two of you but you didn’t like this man he’d become tonight. If you continued to date there would inevitably be more nights like this with colleagues and you weren’t prepared to sign up for that.

When his friends left the two of you alone finally tearing themselves away to at least pretend to look at the artwork, you breathed a sigh of relief.

“Are you ok? You’ve been really quiet tonight.” Sam asked once you were on your own.

“I guess I’m just not feeling all that well. Do you mind if we go?”

“Of course not. I’ll take you home.” He smiled, leaning in and kissing your cheek.

For a moment the rest of the night melted away and Sam was the same man you started to develop feelings for. But you had to remind yourself it wouldn’t always be like this and you knew you had to get out before things got too serious.

He placed his hand once again on your lower back and started steering you towards the door. As you were weaving in and out people to the front of the gallery, you heard someone call your name.

“Y/N! I’ve been looking for you.”

You turned slowly on your heels, recognising Blair’s dulcet tone. You made eye contact with her and smiled briefly before you noticed the man standing at her side, holding her hand.

Your eyes leisurely moved from Blair’s hand interlocked with another much larger one, up the slim frame of the man who the hand belonged to. When they landed on his face you felt your chest instantly tighten, and all the air left your lungs at lightning speed.

Spencer’s lips parted a little and you saw the way he sucked in a deep breath. But to his credit his expression didn’t change all that much.

Time seemed to stand still and Blair and Sam momentarily slipped away as the two of you stared at each other. You didn’t miss the way his eyes cast up and down your body, taking in the sight of you in that dress.

Spencer didn’t know whether to laugh or cry when he felt the telltale stirring in his crotch seeing you in that goddamn dress. It wasn’t much, but it was the most his cock had reacted in over a week.

Blair and Sam both exchanged a look before she glanced back at you and Spencer, seemingly lost somewhere in your own world.

“Hi Y/N,” he finally spoke, his voice a little gruff.

“Hi Spencer.” You replied, swallowing thickly.

“You know each other?” Blair’s voice snapped you both out of the stare off and you looked at her wide eyed.

“Uh, yeah.” You shrugged. “I guess. Uh…we were just leaving so…”

“Oh no, don’t leave!” Blair gasped, clearly not noticing the tension between you.

“You haven’t even introduced us.” Sam’s hand ran up and down your back.

“Right,” you nodded, your head was spinning and you thought you might throw up. “Sam, this is Spencer. Spencer, this is Sam.”

“And Blair you seem to already know.” Spencer narrowed his eyes on you.

“This is the woman I told you about. We met earlier.” Blair gave his hand a soft squeeze. He hadn’t taken his eyes off of you for a single moment.

“So introductions over. We really have to go. It was nice to meet you Blair. And it was…” you trailed off trying to find the right word. Nice to see him? No, that would be an outright lie. “I’ll see you.”

You grabbed Sam by the forearm and spun him around, starting to drag him towards the door before anyone could say anymore.

Spencer watched you go, heart in his throat. Seeing you had taken him by such surprise he honestly didn’t know how to react to it.

“So,” Blair’s tone forced him to look away from you and back at her. “I can only assume by how awkward that was, that she’s your ex-wife? I thought she was in California?”

“That’s not my ex-wife.” He shook his head, only then realising he’d never said Maeve’s name in front of Blair. “But she is an ex. We dated for a few months before I met you but it ended terribly.”

“I can tell.” Blair rolled her eyes, freeing her hand from his. “Another secret you kept from me. We talked about dating history Spencer, you never once mentioned her.”

“I know.” He shrugged. “I don’t have any excuses for that. I just wasn’t ready to talk about her.”

“I don’t like being lied to, Spencer and I hate being blindsided. You need to take a breath, figure out what it is you want. I’m not looking to be messed around, I’ve been there before. I like you and if I’m the person you want to be with I’m all in. But quite frankly, I don’t want to compete with Y/N and your ex-wife.” Blair folded her arms across her chest.

“That’s fair.” He nodded. “I’m sorry. I guess I should go. I just need some time to think, ok? But I’ll call you.”

“Don’t,” she shook her head. “Not unless I’m the one you’re choosing.”

With that she turned away and weaved between people until she was out of sight. Spencer felt a led weight emerge in his chest as he forced himself to leave. He shoved open the gallery door and stepped onto the dark street, briefly glancing around to see if you might still be here but came up short.

He rolled his lip violently between his teeth. The only thing he could focus on was his desperate need for a drink. He pushed everything else aside and started down the street in the direction of the nearest bar.

***

You and Sam walked in silence for a few blocks, your arms wrapped around yourself and his hands in his pockets. The silence was deafening. You wanted to say something to alleviate the discomfort but had no idea what to say.

Eventually you heard Sam’s footsteps slowing until he stopped all together. You halted your movements too and faced him.

“So that’s the professor?” He dove straight in.

“Was it that obvious?” You hugged your arms tighter around yourself.

“Anyone within a five block radius could see the way he was undressing you with his eyes.” Sam scoffed.

“He was not.” You rolled your eyes.

“Trust me Y/N, I have done the same thing to you enough tonight to know that look. And it wasn’t just the fact he was undressing you with his eyes, it was that it was clear he knew exactly what you look like under that dress.” He took his hands out of his pocket and folded his arms across his chest.

“We both have exes, Sam.” You shrugged in frustration.

“Yes, we do.” He agreed. “But I’m not still in love with any of mine.”

You felt tears brimming in your eyes and you tried to blink them back.

“There really isn’t any point in me lying to you, Sam. Yes I still have feelings for Spencer. It was recent and I guess I didn’t really give myself a chance to get over him before we started dating.” You sniffed.

“Well here’s your chance.” He spat.

“What do you mean?” You frowned at him.

“You can have all the time in the world to get over him Y/N because I’m out. I’m done.” He dropped his arms to his sides.

“Sam, don’t say that.” You took a step closer to him but he shook his head.

“I’m not looking to be a rebound, Y/N. I’ve been crazy about you since college. I always thought the reason I never settled down was because of you. I couldn’t believe my luck when I bumped into you again, it felt like fate or something. But I don’t want to be with someone who wants to be with someone else.” He ran his fingers through his hair and started pacing the sidewalk.

You had a horrible feeling of deja vu, except you were Sam and Spencer was you. It took you back to the day on the front steps of your building after you’d heard Spencer confess his feelings for his ex-wife.

What Sam was saying felt so reminiscent of what you’d told Spencer that day.

I think you need to deal with whatever residual emotions you’ve been harbouring for her before you jump into something else. I don’t want to be someone’s second choice, Spencer.

Right now you couldn’t even begin to unpack how much it hurt that instead of dealing with his feelings for Maeve, he’d found someone else. Someone beautiful with electric eyes and a heart warming laugh.

Someone who wasn’t you.

You swallowed, understanding exactly where Sam was coming from and knowing you couldn’t argue with him. It wasn’t fair on him, it wasn’t fair on you.

“You’re right. It’s not fair on you, I really am sorry.” Your first tear fell.

“So I am.” He sighed. “So am I.”

***

He sat at the bar staring down into the glass of scotch. It had remained untouched since the bartender placed it in front of him and the ice cubes had started to melt.

In the last twenty minutes he’d typed out three different text messages to you.

📱 Y/N, it was really good to see you tonight. I hope everything is well with you. Enjoy the rest of your summer.

📱 Y/N, can we talk? I would really like to talk to you, so maybe you can meet me for a drink? I’m at Dooley’s near the art gallery. Please come and meet me.

And finally -

📱 Y/N, I miss you so fucking much. Seeing you tonight was like a jolt of electricity. I’ve been an idiot. I love you, I love you so much. Please say you still love me too.

So far he had not sent a single one, which was probably for the best. Instead he continued to stare down into the taunting drink and contemplated throwing away his newfound sobriety in lieu of getting blind drunk just to take some of his pain away.

His life was just one fuck up after another recently and no matter how hard he tried to better himself he kept stumbling over each new hurdle.

He pulled out his phone again and opened the photos app. His phone was old and the images were grainy but he needed a reminder of why he needed to stay sober.

He pulled up a recent picture of Daisy and Lily, Taco cradled in the younger girl's lap as they smiled brightly for the camera.

A tear crept from his eye. He missed them so much. He wished they were here, wished he could hold them, to feel tethered to them in order to stop himself from throwing his life away at the bottom of a bottle.

It was too late to call but he wished he could hear their voices, have them pull him back from the brink.

Maybe he should call Tara.

Chances were she was working and if she wasn’t she’d no doubt be at home in bed at this hour.

He didn’t want to burden her, but he could really use a meeting right now and he certainly wasn’t strong enough to go on his own.

He pulled up his contacts and located her number. His thumb hovered above it for a moment or two before he slammed the device back on the bar counter.

Then he picked up the glass and downed the scotch in one. And then he quickly ordered another.

@foxy-eva @kbakery @chrissyflo3 @simxican @aysixdy @givemeth @loonalockley @redbulldinner @derekm24 @pinkiceee-prose @werewolfbansheelove @mindbelova @andiebeaword @dreatine @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @thebloomingeagle

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem! reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

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guess-my-next-obsession · 2 years

Text

The Stable Girl: Chapter Eight

pairing: joel miller x f!reader (Sunshine)

chapter rating: E (face sitting, ass eating, unprotected anal sex, double penetration, squirting, talks of Sarah’s death, joel crying, baby stuff, breastfeeding, all in all these two just being obsessed with each other)

word count: 5.2k

authors note: this is mostly just a soft filler chapter with literally the most filthy smut i’ve written for these two. super self indulgent and fluffy bc i just wanna give these two happiness 😭

series masterlist

“Could you grab another blanket, baby? I think Luna’s getting cold.” You were sat out in the backyard around a bonfire, Luna fast asleep in your arms while Lucas laid in Maria’s.

“Sure thing, darlin.” Joel kissed your head as he stood up from his spot beside you and walked inside.

The twins had just reached the four-month mark, their distinct personalities now making it easy to tell the two apart though they looked so similar.

Luna was a lovebug, always needing to be held and spoiled with kisses. She rarely cried and was a big fan of the sound of laughter, her own giggles beginning to sound more human than the incoherent crackles from before. She loved to eat and loved to sleep even more. She was the easy baby.

And then there was Lucas. A Miller boy through and through. He rarely slept, loved a good tantrum, but when you got him in the right mood, he was the softest and most cuddly baby boy in the world. His eyes were just like his fathers, and whenever you looked into them, you swore you saw the same kind of soul inside that you saw when you looked into Joel’s—soft and sensitive, good and honest.

Around you at the fire sat Tommy, Maria, their now seven-year old daughter Vivienne, Ellie, and Ellie’s “kind of special, I guess” friend (as Ellie dubbed her), Cat. Joel had managed to hunt a rare Bison, giving most of the meat to the town’s butcher but reserving enough for a little barbecue.

As someone who lost their parents very young, you felt a swelling amount of joy and belonging in your heart on nights like these. You’d lost a father, a mother, and most recently cut all ties with your brother, but by some miracle found a new group of people to call your family—a home in the midst of desolation.

“Here, lemme take her for a while,” Joel returned holding a fleece blanket, scooping the sleeping baby girl out of your arms and into his.

It was nights like these that your adoration for the man beside you became almost unbearable, your entire body longing to climb on his lap and hug him so tightly that you merged into one being.

He was so attentive with your children, so helpful and patient, so sweet with you, and on top of all the emotional needs he was meeting, he also looked criminally handsome. He outdid himself tonight, wearing your favorite flannel, leaving the top few buttons open to show off the chest you so dearly wished to pepper with kisses.

It was impossible not to be absolutely head over heels in love with him, and now with one year of feeling this way under your belt, you were sure that the feeling would never fade no matter how many years passed.

“Hey, I heard we’re gonna have to build another stable with all the horses you’ve been wranglin’ from outside,” Tommy called over the fire to you, your eyes unwilling to turn away from Joel. He was leaning down, head tilted, smile wide and dimpled, mumbling to your baby girl and making her giggle. Tommy whistled at you and your head finally turned, a smile still on your face from watching your partner. “You hear me?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, shrugging. “It’s no big deal.”

“No big deal? You went from not bein’ able to even hold a gun to bein’ out there able to hold your own. We’re proud of you.” Maria interjected with a smile, a soft chuckle leaving your lips at the praise. You never were very good at receiving a compliment.

“Well, thank you guys. I like it out there now…in very small doses.” Joel chuckled at your response, your eyes meeting his. He reached over and tapped your knee with a half-grin.

“I’m proud of you, sweetheart.” You just smiled down at your lap, too consumed with your cutesy feelings for him to look him in the eye anymore. Joel must’ve sensed something was up because not a minute later he was scooting his chair closer to yours until your thighs were flush together, his hand reaching to rub at your back mindlessly as he carried on conversation with his family. “Tommy, I was an angel growin’ up. You were the bad one. Remember that time you skipped class and then I got grounded for it?”

“Oh, hell, this shit again,” Tommy chuckled and shook his head. “It wasn’t my fault.”

“No, but you coulda said somethin!” You chuckled at his enthusiasm, rarely seeing him in such a social mood.

“What happened?” You asked softly, nudging his side with your shoulder. Joel turned to look at you with a chuckle, eyes flickering to your lips before speaking.

“Tommy was a freshman and I was a junior, and I’m at school because I wasn’t bad like him. I actually enjoyed learnin—“

“Alright, Einstein,” Tommy interrupted with a chuckle.

“Anyways, I guess Tommy ditched class to go hang out at the mall or smoke cigarettes or somethin, I don’t know. But they call up our parents and tell ‘em that their son had skipped school, and my parents thought that Tommy was a saint, so they automatically assumed it was me,” Joel chuckled and pointed his finger at Tommy. “And Tommy didn’t say shit! He got home at the same time I did, and he listened to them nail into me and ground me for a god damn month and let me take the fall.”

“I wasn’t about to get grounded and ruin my perfect reputation with mom and dad.” Tommy shrugged and took a sip of his beer.

“Unbelievable,” Joel chuckled and turned his head to look at you, your eyes batting from exhaustion and some dreamy sort of affection for him that was always present but extra apparent at the moment. He leaned in to your ear and whispered to you. “You tired, baby?”

“A little,” you looked at him, hoping that he’d see the longing in your eyes for him so that you wouldn’t have to say the words. “I’m gonna go put the babies down and take a bath.”

“Alright,” he smiled at you as you took Luna into your arms before walking around to grab Lucas with the other, both babies fussing a bit at being woken up but quickly going back to sleep.

•••

“Y’all have a good night,” Joel said goodbye to his brother and his family, seeing them out through the back gate before going over to the fire to put it out, Ellie and Cat still sitting there talking. “Sorry, girls. Gotta put this out before I get too lazy to do it later.”

“No problem, we’re headed inside anyways.” Ellie stood up and grabbed Cat’s hand, Joel smiling to himself at her affectionate side making a rare appearance.

“Have a good night, kids.” He called out to them and Ellie waved at him from over her shoulder as they disappeared into her garage-turned-bedroom.

With the fire now out, Joel could head inside, desperate to get his hands on Sunshine like he’d been itching to do all night long.

He wasn’t sure if she was even aware of it, but she was wearing the same knit dress that she wore the night they first slept together, and it was driving him wild. He wanted to recreate that night, him on the couch, her riding him with their clothes still on because they were too desperate to wait. Every time she looked over at him with that innocent smile, cradling his babies one at a time, he felt consumed with a almost maddening kind of love for her. He’d do anything she asked of him, good or bad, right or wrong, it didn’t matter.

She was in the bathroom when he finally found her, wrapped in a towel and brushing her teeth. Joel smiled at her through the mirror, leaning against the doorframe and crossing his arms. She giggled and tipped her chin up at him through the mirror, as though to ask “what’s up?”.

“Just enjoyin’ the view,” he was tired, his voice huskier and deeper than normal, and he knew the effect it would have on her. Sunshine grinned as she spit out her toothpaste, swishing her mouth with a homemade mouthwash she concocted before turning around to smile at him.

“I’ve been enjoying the view all night. It’s a nice view.” She pulled him in by his belt loops, Joel breathing in the delicate scent of her soap as he ran his hands up and down her arms.

“Have you?” He sounded truly surprised by her confession, not having caught a single hint that she must’ve tried throwing his way.

“You didn’t know?” She asked with equal shock, Joel shaking his head.

“No, why didn’t you say somethin’? I woulda kicked ‘em all out hours ago.” He trailed his fingertips over the edge of the towel around her chest, slowly undoing the fold she’d created there to keep it on. Sunshine held it on her body, just allowing the front to fall open. Joel sucked in a sharp inhale at the sight of her body, her breasts still larger than normal from the breastfeeding but the rest of it returning to the state it was in when he met her aside from a few new stretch marks that he’d become well acquainted with over the past few months, showering them with kisses. “Look at you, baby. I’ll never get enough of this.”

“You flatter me, Joel Miller,” she smiled at him the way she did when she was trying her best to accept a compliment, her mouth twisting a little and the apples of her cheeks becoming more prominent. He traced over her cheekbone with his thumb, trailing it down to her bottom lip before pinching her chin.

“I love you so damn much, you know that?” His sincerity seemed to come as a shock to her, that bashful smile fading to a look of awe. “I’m so glad you picked me. Can’t imagine my life without you in it.”

“Joel,” she chuckled, her shy smile returning again. “You’re going to make me cry, you know my hormones are still all over the place.”

He laughed, nodding at her before softening his eyes. “I can’t help it. I’m so in love with you.”

She stood up off the counter, letting her towel fall to the floor as she walked him back against the opposite wall, her hand holding his jaw as she pulled him down for a kiss. Joel groaned into it, his hands gripping her hips and tugging her tight to his frame. Sunshine was kissing him breathless, his brows furrowing as he tried his best to show her how much he loved her through such a small physical act.

“I need you,” she whispered against his lips, Joel nodding as he kissed her again, backing her out of the bathroom and down the hall to his bedroom, the couple making sure to be quiet as to not disturb the sleeping infants in the next room.

“Fuck, I love you, baby,” he breathed out as he shut the door with his foot, his hands now palming her ass.

“I want…wanna try something tonight,” she pulled away from him, her smile bashful as she looked up into his eyes. “But I don’t know if you’ll want to do it.”

“I’ll do anything for you.” It was sincere. It didn’t matter what she asked of him—it was hers.

“I wanna…have all of you tonight. As much as I can get.” She unbuttoned his flannel as she spoke, Joel’s eyes locked on her fingertips and his breathing shallow. “I want you…to fuck me in the ass—“

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Joel breathed out in a barely audible whisper, his cock going from a half-chub to painfully hard in a second.

“And while you do that, I want your fingers inside my pus—“

Joel didn’t need another word to leave her lips, his mouth crashing against hers as he picked her up, ignoring her giggled squeal as he walked her to the bed and laid her down, his body covering hers like a shield.

“You’re so fuckin’ perfect, darlin’…do you feel how hard you got me?” He pressed himself against her bare center, Sunshine’s eyes rolling back in her head as the seam of his jeans rubbed her clit just right. “You want all of me tonight, baby?”

Sunshine said nothing, simply nodding her head adamantly and ripping his shirt open, the buttons flying across the room.

“I’ll fix it tomorrow,” she breathed out as her lips latched onto his neck, his hips still grinding against her as she fumbled with his belt buckle. “Use the belt on me.”

“What?” He asked in a chuckle, lifting his head to look at her.

“Tie my hands behind my back when you fuck me.” Joel couldn’t help the moan that slipped out at her request, his cock having already been aching for her when she was simply wearing a dress and cradling his children. Now here she was asking the most filthy, sensual requests from him, and he was barely hanging on.

“Fuckin’ hell, baby,” he quickly forced his jeans and underwear off his body, stepping out of them before flipping her over onto her knees, her ass arched in the air in the middle of the bed. Joel used his belt to bind her wrists together, slipping the leather through the slats in his headboard. “Like this?”

“Yes, fuck me,” she moaned out, Joel’s eyes lowering to her dripping pussy. He let out a growl as he lowered his mouth to her slit, spreading her arousal around to her tighter hole with his tongue. He could feel her pussy fluttering as he swirled his tongue around her tight ring of muscle, his fingers joining the party and slipping inside of her pussy to target that special spot inside. “Oh my god, Joel…I need it so bad.”

“I know, sweetheart, but I gotta work you open first. Don’t wanna hurt you,” he placed a kiss to the round swell of her ass, her walls twitching around his fingers as he continued to fuck her with them. He pulled them out once he was well drenched in her slick, rubbing the two fingertips over her tight ring, adding pressure as he went. “You ever done this before?”

“What do you think?” She quipped playfully.

“No?” He asked with a chuckle, Sunshine nodding. “Me neither, so…you gotta tell me what hurts and what feels good.”

“I will, baby.” Her soft and shy reassurance melted his heart a bit more than he expected, his lips pressing against the bottom of her spine.

Joel finally breached her entrance with one finger, taking it slow as he loosened her up, his other hand reaching down to rub at her clit the way he’d learned got her off best. Sunshine tugged at the restraints around her wrist as she let out a soft moan, their sex life not affected by the newborns aside from the volume in which they could fuck at now.

“Stay just like that,” he ordered, Sunshine nodding in compliance. Joel laid on his back between her open thighs, smiling at the view of her pussy right above his face. “Looks so damn good, darlin. Why don’t you sit down and give me a taste?”

Sunshine obliged, her pussy resting against his waiting mouth and grinding against it. Joel hummed at her taste, one hand holding her hip to keep her down against his mouth, the other reaching around to continue working her open while she rode his face.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” his finger was now all the way inside of her tight hole so he added another, surprised that the new digit triggered her orgasm, her pussy gushing on his tongue. Sunshine was breathless from holding in her moans, her thighs shaking around his head. “So sweet.”

“I’m ready, Joel. Please, fuck me in the ass,” Joel groaned against her inner thigh as he peppered it with kisses before sliding out from underneath her. He expertly flipped her onto her back, the belt twisting as she remained restrained to it. Smiling at her genuinely, the couple allowed themselves to laugh together for a moment, both so worked up that it was comical. “Mm, I love that I can laugh with you.”

Her words touched him in a way he hadn’t been prepared for, his smile turning into a loving frown.

“I love you, Sunshine.” He stroked her burning cheeks with his knuckles, his cock prodding at her entrance and sinking in out of instinct. Both of them gasped at the slick vacuum of her pussy around him, his thrusts deep and grinding before he was pulling out of her and repositioning himself at her other hole. “Are you sure about this?”

“Completely.” He leaned forward to kiss her as his cock slipped past the tight ring of muscle with little resistance from the slickness of her orgasm. Joel gasped at the tightness around the head of his girth, Sunshine’s face contorting into a look of pain.

“Are you okay, darlin? Is it too much?” She shook her head violently, a deep, animalistic moan falling from her lips as she pulled on her restraints to try and pull him down. Joel leaned forward, kissing her and cradling her face as he inched his length in little by little until he was fully seated inside of her. “So fuckin’ tight, baby. You ready for me to move?”

“Yes, yes, please,” she panted, Joel’s hands on either side of her body keeping him upright as he slid out before pushing all the way back in, her eyes rolling back in her head. “Jesus, you’re so fucking big, Joel. Feels so good.”

“You feel amazin’, honey…so good for me. Takin’ it all. You want more?” Joel rasped as he tried not to finish at the mere sight of her body beneath his, open and all for him.

“Yes, fuck, want your fingers,” she begged, opening her eyes. Joel softened his pleasured scowl, smiling down at her as he lowered his fingers to her dripping pussy, sliding them in while never once breaking eye contact. When he curled them up to rub against her spot at the same time as his cock thrusted into her, she shuddered with pleasure, her walls fluttering around him. “So good, it’s so fucking g-good, Joel.”

“I know, I know…so fuckin’ good. Makes you wanna cry, don’t it?” He purred into the air, his hips snapping into her while his fingers targeted her g-spot, thumb rubbing circles against her clit.

“I love you so much, Joel,” her eyes opened and she looked up at him like he hung the stars up in the sky, all restraint leaving him as he pounded into her furiously, his fingers cramping but unrelenting in their attack. “G-gonna make me cum, feels…too good…please cum with me, baby. Cum for me.”

“Fuck,” he closed his eyes for the first time, so close to the edge that he could tip over at anytime, but he wanted to do this together. Lowering his lips to hers, he felt her start to gush around his fingers, a wicked smile growing on his face. “You gonna squirt for me, Sunshine? Gonna make a mess?”

“Yes, yes, yes! I’m—oh!” He pulled his fingers out and watched as she wet his lower stomach, his hand now rubbing at her clit to work her through he pulsing orgasm that sucked his cock deeper into her tighter hole until he was pulling out and laying his cock on her stomach, white ropes of his release pooling there as he came so hard he nearly passed out. Joel was still moaning a full minute after his release hit him, the aftershocks of his bliss almost violent. “That was so good, baby.”

“Yeah, it was,” he agreed with a chuckle, leaning forward to undo the restraints on her wrists, frowning at the red marks left on her skin. “Did I hurt you?”

“No.” He tilted her head at her as though to ask the question again. “Only the good kind of hurt, I promise.”

“Next time I’ll find somethin’ softer to tie you up with,” he lowered his mouth to hers for a soft kiss, their breathing still labored and hearts still pounding. “We made a mess.”

“Yeah, we did.” She grinned at him, running her hands through his hair.

“Let’s hop in the shower,” he stood up and held his hand out for her to take, her legs weak, thighs trembling, and body covered in the mixture of their releases, but she stood up anyways, letting him carry most of her weight as they crept over to the bathroom with quiet giggles.

Their shower quickly turned into another bath once they washed off the mess of their romp, Sunshine’s back pressed against Joel’s chest in the hot water. Joel’s fingers trailed up and down her arm and shoulder, his lips kissing any bit of skin he could find as he hummed a song for her at her request.

“I wanna tell you about somethin’ I’ve been sorta holdin’ off on,” Joel’s voice was thick with exhaustion, but neither of them were quite ready to give up this time alone yet, their days consumed with taking care of their twins, going to work, and watching over Ellie. Sunshine tilted her head a bit to look at him better, his finger tracing the curve of her jawline.

“Okay,” she nodded, eyes searching his with concern.

“It ain’t nothin’ to worry about, just…I know I haven’t told you about the night Sarah passed, and…I don’t know. I guess it’s just taken me this long to finally be able to talk about it, so I wanna talk about it.” She nodded again, her hand rubbing his thigh beneath the water. “It was my birthday. She, uh, I was home late—always home late back then—and I remember feeling so damn tired. My start-up was just a damn weight around my neck, and I was a single dad—anyways. I just wanted to sleep, but she wasn’t havin’ that, not without makin’ sure I felt special on my birthday…my sweet baby girl.”

Joel smiled at the memory, Sarah holding out the small box, his hands opening it to see a watch—the watch that was now sitting on the bathroom counter.

“She gave me that watch over there. I don’t know how she did it or where she got the money—she said she was selling ‘hardcore drugs’.” Sunshine chuckled, her eyes locked on his as he told the story. “Anyways, I put her to bed one minute, and the next I was bein’ woken up by this commotion outside. I turned on the news and saw…chaos. I don’t know how to explain it, but it just felt like one bad, bad dream.”

“I remember,” she nodded, Joel’s eyes turning to hers. He kissed her forehead and hummed.

“I found her awake, in my office. Had to grab my gun and kill one of our neighbors who’d already been infected right in front of my little girl. It was awful.” He nuzzled his cheek against her head, hugging her body close. “And then Tommy came and picked us up. Left all our shit behind. It was chaos, everyone tryin’ to get out but nobody able to.”

He took a beat before continuing, the next part the hardest to retell.

“Everything was happenin’ so fast. I hardly remember it all. Just bits and pieces. Me and Sarah runnin’ through the town on fire, seein’ shit neither of us ever should’ve had to see…and then I thought we’d made it. Thought we were in the clear. But…the military had already occupied the town, and there was one guard out in the field we’d ran into.” He sighed, closing his eyes and squeezing them shut for a minute as the scene played over in his head, a tear falling down his cheeks at the memory he’d kept locked away for so long now finally being brought back to the surface. “I didn’t know he had a gun until it was too late. I tried…tried to reason with him. Tell him we weren’t sick. None of it mattered. He got the order to shoot, and he did.”

“Oh, baby.” She turned around in his hold, hugging him close in the water, her face nuzzled into his neck.

“I tried to dodge it, and I thought I did a good job. Thought I protected her—the only person I needed to protect. But…I didn’t.” He cleared his throat, taking in a deep breath. “She was shot in the stomach. Too much blood lost. Tommy and I stayed there for as long as we could, holdin’ her…tellin’ her I was sorry.”

Joel was fully crying now, held together only by the loving embrace of the woman in his arms. She squeezed him so tightly that in any other circumstance it might have hurt, but at that moment it just made him feel like he wouldn’t shatter. That he might make it out of retelling this story in one piece.

“We buried her that night—or Tommy did, I should say. I couldn’t…wasn’t of any use for a long time.” He wiped away his tears with the palm of his hand. “The watch got broken in the crossfire, and I left it like that for a long time. Didn’t want to touch it. Didn’t want to look at it. But, Ellie brought it to me when you were givin’ birth, repaired. She said she wanted me to have it so it could feel like Sarah was there with me, and…it did. I haven’t taken it off since except to shower. It just…makes me feel like I still have a part of her around. I think she’d love the twins. Think she’d love you.”

“I am so sorry, Joel. So sorry.” She lifted her head to look into his eyes, a small smile growing on his face.

“It’s okay,” he assured, kissing her forehead. “I’ve made my peace with it, or…I’m trying to at least.”

“I’m so proud of you.” Her words were sincere, thick with affection and pride. “None of that was your fault. I need you to know that. You didn’t fail her, didn’t hurt her, you were just trying to get her to safety and someone else came along and took her from you. None of it was your fault.”

“I love you,” he wouldn’t disagree with her like he wanted to, so he chose to say the second thing that popped into his mind. “You have given me so much. Helped me through so much. I…never thought I’d get to this point. And I owe it all to you, Ellie, and those twins that I think I can hear squawkin’ right now.”

“Thought I was hallucinating it,” she chuckled and he let out a small huff of amusement, kissing her forehead again. “Come on, let’s go deal with them and then get some rest. You look exhausted, my cowboy.”

“I am exhausted,” he nodded. Sunshine kissed his lips sweetly before standing up and stepping out of the tub, wrapping her body in a towel and holding one open for Joel as he joined her in the cold autumn air of the un-heated home.

They both shivered a bit as they dried off in the bedroom, changing into their pajamas before Joel headed in to the twins room while Sunshine changed the sheets.

Luna and Lucas were both up, the latter screaming his head off while his sister just stared with tired eyes at her father. Joel reached in to grab his baby boy first, bouncing him a bit in his arms and kissing the side of his head as he walked them back into their bedroom.

“Oh, he’s in a fussy mood,” Sunshine frowned as she took the baby into her arms, rocking him and humming as she kissed his forehead. Just like his father, Lucas was always immediately calmed by his mother’s presence, his screams turning into soft cries that turned into sniffles until he was nearly fast asleep again.

“Gonna bring in the other one,” he kissed the top of her head and left again, this time grabbing his baby girl with one arm and their respective blankets with the other.

When he walked into the room, Sunshine was laying in bed half-asleep, Lucas in her arms as he was breastfed. Joel stopped in the doorway to watch for minute, swept away by affection for her. She’d been working so hard lately, not only as a mother but also for the town. He could tell she was exhausted, and while he did everything he could to help carry the load, he still felt desperate to take away all the weight on her shoulders for a while.

So, after laying Luna down on the bed in between where her parents slept, Joel carefully plucked Lucas from her chest and walked him downstairs to make him a bottle.

“You need to take it easy on your mama, boy,” Joel playfully scolded his son as he drank his bottle, his eyes blinking up at his father. “I got a crush on her, you know? Don’t like seein’ her so tired all the time. And I know it ain’t your fault, us Miller boys have always been trouble—“

“Joel, baby,” Sunshine’s chuckles caused his head to whip around, Luna cradled in her arms. “What are you doing down here? Come up to bed.”

“I was just tryin’ to give you a break,” he walked over to her, his free arm wrapping around her shoulders to pull her into his side.

“I don’t need a break, I just need you in bed with me,” she assured, resting her head on his shoulders as they stood in the middle of their kitchen, looking down at their babies. “I think Luna’s good to go back to bed, she wasn’t hungry.”

“I’ll stay up with Lucas until he’s asleep,” he kissed her temple but she shook her head.

“So I gotta compete with my baby boy to get you in bed with me? I’ll start throwing tantrums if I have to,” she joked, Joel chuckling as he walked them upstairs.

“I promise I’ll be in bed in just a few minutes, baby.” The parents set their children down in their cribs, Lucas surprisingly going right to sleep now that his belly was full. Joel turned to a very sleepy and grumpy looking Sunshine, pointing at his son. “I think my talk with him is already startin’ to work.”

“Come here,” she pulled him in, wrapping her arms around his waist and hugging him close, her head on his chest. Joel hugged her back, kissing the top of her head as he swayed her. “You make me so needy for you. If I wasn’t so sleepy I’d ask you to fuck me again.”

“I can make a pot of coffee,” he joked, Sunshine chuckling against his chest.

“I can wait until morning,” she assured, letting go of him and taking his hand in hers as she led him back to their bedroom and into bed. She clung to him underneath the blankets, for warmth or sheer need for contact, he couldn’t be sure. “You’re my home, Joel. Never had one before I found you.”

“Sweet girl,” he kissed her for the millionth time that night, whispering sweet nothings to her until they were both fast asleep in each other’s arms.

Everything in his past led him here, every right, every wrong, everything that haunted him—it was all a stepping stone to her. He no longer could think about any of that, any of his demons, because in loving her, that everything had faded to nothing. Now, his everything belonged to one person, one beautiful soul that never seemed to get tired of him the way so many had before.

He wished more than anything that Sarah could be here with them, to see her father in love and happy, to be under his roof or under her own with her own family, it didn’t matter. But he knew deep down that she was in a better place, and that one day he’d be there with her again, and until then, he’d learn to feel content with her memory, the faintest sense of her presence whenever he wore his watch.

•••

joel taglist: @uselsshuman @joelmillerscoffee @wildemaven @axshadows @sherala007 @browneyes-issac @kimm4710 @stxrrylunatic @sara-alonso @paulalikestuff @chxpsi @auberosier @mashomasho @harriedandharassed @trickstersp8 @trinkets01 @jlmaddinson @laureliciousdefinition @oh-no-a-whovian @buoyfriend @chorraich @extraneous-trip @oliviajdjarin @graciexmarvel @amb11 @reigndropss @multifand0m-gal0re @hypnoash @chronic-aly @wheresarizona @pedropascalsx @xocalliexo @myswficlist @untitledarea (sorry if your tag isn’t working! and let me know if you’d like to be added!)

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller x reader smut #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller #tlou hbo #tlou fanfiction #joel tlou #tlou #the last of us #the stable girl

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trainerbob23 · 10 months

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got any favorite ships? if not much of a shipping person i'd be really interested in knowing what other kinds of relationships and dynamics you're really into ^_^

Well, my favorite Kirby ships/friendships can go as follows

(Please note that I do not support proshipping and this is not a complete list of friendships and if you want to know more about who's friends .)

Kirby ships I like

Metadedede:

It shouldn't come as a surprise because I like both dedede's and Meta Knights dynamic and seeing the art based around the both of them makes me extremely happy,

Kirbfluff (platonic):

like oh my god, I seriously love the idea of fluff coming to dreamland and having such a good time with kirby and both of them seeing new heights like never before, it's such a crime that prince fluff only appeared in one game and that's it.

magoranza:

ok so this was introduced me to a good friend of mine back around 2022 on discord before I became completely active on the site, but seriously this idea is amazing to be honest of Magolor and taranza being together and just seeing the both of them feel so happy after the both taranza and Magolor had gone though (even sometimes it means little slip ups from here and there)

OC x canon:

alright let's get the elephant out of the room here. I love OC x canon and idc what anyone's tells me about it. Yeah it may be cringe, but I think that if you hc your original character is in love a pre existing character is good and it can even be a good idea for those who are starting out with shipping other characters and see where you can go from there.

Metasusie:

Ok it's a moreso of a ship I like to look at perspective and say "I think it's a cute ship". And i know it's a controversial ship, but I personally think that metasusie can be put into perspective how meta knight's and Susie's relationship have changed since the events of the original game, but many people have misinterpreted Susie as more malicious than she actually is and taken things like torture fics to be canon when there's really not that much info to go off of.

Friendships

The main four:

I really love the main four's (Kirby, bandee, King dedede and meta knight) dynamic so so much like it can be considered a found family if you will and I'm so grateful that the new Kirby games showoff this dynamic very well.

The animal friends: I'm surprised how the animal friends have not been in much Kirby games recently other than star ailies, to be frank the idea of them having a great time with Kirby and with them being different pets, Kirby like to play with them a whole lot

Gooey: gooey treats Kirby as a big brother in my hc and also who likes to think about a whole lot about popstar and the entire world around him as well.

Magolor: Magolor is extremely greatful to have Kirby as a best friend After what had happened thoughout the events of rtdl deluxe, He didn't want to ask for forgiveness at first, but he felt extremely guilty for what happened So he proves to Kirby that he can succeed and even change as a person. (even if Kirby has forgave Magolor)

Bandee: he is kirby's bestest of friends and would do anything for Kirby. After the events of super star ultra he would officially become Kirby's best friends and their relationship is so so important to me because both bandee and Kirby often are seen playing with each other or drinking apple juice or he is seen even humming the song to himself.

Marx: he may be a jester but he is good at tricks, in the manga where Marx and Kirby are friends (sorry can't remember the name) he felt extremely sad over the fact that Kirby didn't remember the playdate and even more they were/ still are best friends (well in my hc) (https://www.tumblr.com/kirby-manga-translated/725558045121363968/kirby-manpuku-pupupu-fantasy-volume-7-chapter)

Dark meta knight: I'd like to think after the events of amazing mirror and star aillies, he comes down to popstar more often to either draw with Adeline and to even improve as a person, even if it means being slightly annoyed at meta knight

Meta Knight: I personally think he is mostly Kirby's friend as well, and seeing how this was the first ever Kirby character I liked when I first played as him in smash bros. Him being shy when his mask breaks and in the anime I was inspired to make a fan-made episode script based around him losing his mask (which you guys should read by the way, https://www.tumblr.com/trainerbob23/689281680493723648/hey-everyone-i-just-wrote-a-kirby-right-back-at) this guy was the reason I even got it to this fan base in the first place and I'm really glad that happened

King dedede: originally rivals, but turned to friends and even great allies. I seriously don't know why the anime turned him into such a douchebag when in the games he has definitely changed for the better and I'm so proud of dedede for proving to himself that he can change as a person in his own character arc

I know this is not complete list of characters and that is fine. It will have taken me ages to do so. So if you guys want a complete list of all the Kirby characters. Let me know. I have so much to say about them

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k-dokja · 2 years

Text

Summary: You've managed to convince your parents to be with Daniel this Lunar New Year, now what? [Chapter 432 - New Years arc]

Daniel knows under no certain terms should he be worried about bringing you back to his hometown. For once, it's nothing you haven't seen and for another, his mother likes you. He shouldn't be worried. There's nothing to worry about.

...Except for all the plans he has in mind about his investigation, none of which he finds fitting to share with you. Not when the holidays are coming up and you'd probably tear him a new one for working again. And you'd always understand, at the end of the day, you're more sympathetic than your complaining lets on.

That's probably the worst of it. Every time it happens, he cannot help the feeling that he's taking your kindness for granted.

Especially when you go out of your way to do things like this... "Isn't this too much? You really didn't have to..."

"What? Didn't you mention you have a lot of relatives, too? I think it's enough," you cross your arms and level your eyes with his, challenging him to contradict you. It's a losing battle, he knows, and he's not in the habit of picking fights he can't win. Not after a month of getting beaten back and forth, anyway.

Daniel chews down on his lower lips while watching the stack of boxes and crates you prepared for the trip home with him. His brows furrow further while he works out the logistic of bringing this back. Supposedly, he can carry them...

"What's with the dumbfounded look?" You ask before a grin breaks out on your lips. "Wait, do you think we will carry all of this back? Honestly, you're too simple sometimes..."

Your words don't sound chiding, but he cannot help feeling silly when the delivery service arrives moments later to take the packages away. You have a triumphant look on your face afterwards that uplifts the weight in his heart, still, another matter remains. "You didn't have to splurge that much on my family, you know."

"Nonsense," you wave his concern away like it's an afterthought, "this is from both of us, we're a team, remember?"

"Right, of course," he puts on what he believes is an honest smile and does his best to mask the strain in his voice. Fortunately, you're too happy about the occasion to notice something was amiss, but he doesn't think he can deal with the guilt of keeping things from you any longer.

The car ride back home is blessed with relative peace in the short duration of it. Your giddiness with being at his side has elevated much of your mood, and Daniel knows he'd feel the same had he been transparent with you. After the recent development in his life, he cannot say he has been altogether a good boyfriend, but he'd be damned before he makes it any worse.

With how happy you are at this very moment, he'd be committing a heinous crime if he ruined your good moods by unravelling the truth.

A forlorn sigh skips past his lips at the thought. Immediately, he regrets it. Daniel turns to check if you noticed, only to see you smiling at him, your eyes narrow at his little slip-up.

"Uh..."

"If you have anything to confess, better say it before you create collateral damage~" Your tone is playful but the gleam in your eyes is anything but.

Daniel sighs again. He knows better than to argue with you. "Uhm, well," he swallows, suddenly nervous, "you know about the whole business with the Park Jinyong, yes?"

He takes your hand into his own, fingers threaded together in the hope of assuaging whatever coming next.

"Mhm."

"Well... I haven't gotten the chance to tell you yet," Daniel rubs his thumb on the back of your hand, exhaling a long breath before facing you, "but DG recently informed me that my mother has known him since I was very young, so..."

He doesn't have to finish the sentence for you to understand. The familiar recognition in your eyes is enough for Daniel to see that you've comprehended the gravity of the situation. He watches you carefully, waiting for any infinitesimal change in your expression. And yet, he's caught completely unaware when you flicker his forehead.

"Ah!"

"What have I told you about transparency?"

Daniel pouts, "That I should be honest with you no matter the bad and the good?" He quickly adds. "Sorry, I just, I know this is the holiday after all and I shouldn't be caught up with work but—"

You flicker his forehead again, "Seriously, you, don't fret," you smile indulgently. "It's fine, okay? Things like these come up, as long as you're honest about it, there's no problem."

"But..."

"I'm not happy, don't get me wrong?" You keep your voice even, but he can hear your displeasure in the matter-of-fact tone you put on. "But no matter, it's not like I'll be wanting for things to do. Lunar New Year tends to be busy, after all."

"I'm sorry..." He apologizes anyway, despite your reassurance. The words come out of him on instinct.

You huff, face upturned, "Yeah, you'll be sorry when I become your mom's favourite. Get ready to lose your spot once you're done with your silly investigation."

"Hey, now—"

Once again, you catch him by surprise with your attack. This time, it's gentler, a kiss on the nose that leaves him gobsmacked and stuns him into silence. "So don't worry about me, worry about yourself first please."

"Hmph," he smiles with pressed lips, "honestly, you're too good to me."

Once again, the triumphant grin returns to your face and pride surges in his chest at the sight. "Yeah? If you know that then you better do your best to cherish me."

"But I already do~"

"Not enough, you don't!"

"Aw..."

And despite your protest, seeing the cheer remaining on your face even after he has come forth with the truth relieves him somewhat.

Although he cannot say all will be well in his further investigation, he knows that he has to do his best when your support means the world to him. You're his most precious, whether you know it or not, and the world would end before he intentionally gives you cause to think otherwise.

He just hopes that all of this will blow over soon, for you as much as it is for him.

#daniel park #daniel park x reader #lookism #lookism x reader #fics

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kitkatsudon · 11 months

Note

What made you want to start writing Unbreakable?

(PS I got tumblr for your Gonjo theories lol)

Wow, thank you so much for asking! And first of all let me say that I’m really honoured that you care enough about my theories to make this account 🥺 I need to post more to be honest, but right now a lot of them are caught in a trap of being spoilers for the next important project.

As for why I wanted to write Unbreakable… the short answer is that, as a Yeong stan I was unsatisfied with Taegon, and it annoyed me so much that I felt compelled to write a fic to fix that SKFSLKJFKLJK something where Gon would have to face consequences for how Yeong was mistreated, before eventually they would be able to make each other happy for the rest of their lives. This was… perhaps inspired a little by my own life at the time, where I was in a complicated situation with a straight girl that I liked, a kind of situation where it was almost as if we were together even though we weren’t… and recently she’d got a boyfriend, and I was pretty heartbroken despite having no real reason to be 😅😅 it’s embarrassing looking back, but I connected with Yeong a lot because I saw my situation at the time in how he might have felt about Taegon.

The longer answer is that while that was the initial reason, it quickly became more than that. I have a bad habit of writing the first chapter of a fic without really knowing where it’s going, I just know where I want it to start, and only when that first chapter is done do I really start thinking about “cooler” twists and turns for the story to take. The act of writing the fic itself made me start thinking about Yeong’s family, and wanting to explain the age gap between Yeong/Eunseob and the twins while also trying to explain why Yeong is the way he is. I have a habit of making myself sad while daydreaming about my beloved blorbos, and my general rule of thumb is “ohh this would be awful - let’s write it!”

The surprising thing for me, however, was how as the story progressed… it stopped being a way to vent from Yeong’s point of view, and I started to really identify a lot more with Gon as I was writing. Obviously I was still feeling Yeong as well, but what started off as a way to complain about Gon turned into something where I really wanted to explain his point of view in a way that was sympathetic and understandable. To be honest, I think a lot of this came from my friends at the time telling me that they think I’m autistic, and then me looking at Lee Gon and going “wait a damn minute… why does the research I’ve been doing seem to fit with how I’ve been writing him?” Then I started projecting, and from about chapter 11? 12? onwards I started doing what I’d accidentally been doing before on purpose, and that also became a big driving factor. This is a hill I will die on, and at some point in the next… well, few years, being honest with myself about how fast I’m working now I’m at uni, I do want to make a post on this headcanon for Gon because it’s important to my heart, but I want to finish my detailed rewatch of the show first. TL;DR, halfway through writing I switched sides from being a Yeong defender to a Gon apologist, and then that became a big driving force for the fic.

But mostly… they just live rent-free in my head, and that was the summer after I finished school so I had a lot of free time to write, and I really enjoyed working all my headcanons at the time into a fic that tied up enough loose ends to satisfy me after the show just left me feeling frustrated. Nowadays, Unbreakable is kind of out of date for me honestly - working on another fic with @irregularpeach has created so many more headcanons than I ever could have dreamed up on my own, and now the multiverse is pretty extensive in my mind 😅

I hope you didn’t regret asking me this question - it’s perhaps a mistake to get me talking about my precious blorbos, because I will talk. From my part, thank you for giving me this opportunity to shamelessly witter on about my fic, this really made me smile when I saw it!

#tkem #gonjo #fanfiction #seriously thank you so much for letting me be so annoying SKJDHFSDFJFD #kitkat answers asks

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wetcatspellcaster · 4 months

Note

Hi, me again. I hope you enjoy being appreciated because a few days back I’ve commented on ao3 under Honest Lie how I’m not sure about reading Pieces (fear of angst) and now I have reached act 3 of it and I have no words for how it kept me on my toes all this time. I love the vampire soul concept and I am also a Spuffy preacher through and through so it makes me even more happy that I can read about it somewhere. Generally, Buffy is one of my favorite fandoms and I believe it to be a pop cultural gem of its times. (also - Angel is such a boring person in Buffy, though he does do way better in his own spin-off. And he has a very high voice? Or is it just me?) I fell in love with Spike when he asked if he can bum a fag, lol. But also - Giles, omg. Rewatched recently and Giles is hnnggg.

I wanted to ask if the general soul-shape was inspired by Howl’s Moving Castle concept? The way Rose held on to it you know when reminded me of Sophie so much. And I loved it of course, I even cried a little!

Second thing I wanted to ask - have you ever seen ‘The Magicians’? It has this amazing plotting that reminds me of someone’s campaign where everything goes wrong and whatever you do you have to fix it afterwards and it of course causes other things to go wrong. I have a feeling you would love it. Also - it’s fucking heartbreaking at times and has amazing characters and archs.

So - again, thank you for all your work, as a fellow ‘I’m sorry that I exist person’ I wanted to tell you that you are precious and must be protected at all cost!

hahaha, thank you so much lovely! I'm sorry that An Honest Lie is currently in a place where Pieces becomes the better option to read in terms of angst (the next chapter of HL is so close, but um... Chapter 26 of Pieces is still my priority) but I'm glad that you liked it!! When I put an 'eventual happy ending' tag on a fic, I do mean it!! I promise!!

So... I did not realise Pieces was Howl's Moving Castle until so late in the game. Truly embarrassing of me. Fake fan behaviour. Picture me at 2am, staring at my ceiling at around the point Chapter 10 came out, shouting "FUCK." But i didn't deliberately lean into the imagery, in the way you think - I'm not saying that parallel is not there (it is and it jumpscared me).

The image of the soul/Jarstarion came during the outlining stage from the fact that everyone at the time was talking about Astarion's name meaning Star (we were that early into the discourse around his character, this is months ago now) and so it left me with this image of the soul looking like starlight, in reference to that. Obviously that means it's also calcifer coded. bc calcifer is also... a star. (HOW DID I NOT SEE THE HOWL'S MOVING CASTLE PARALLELS. HOW? HOW????)

I haven't seen the Magicians! I know the books have a bit of a reputation for being edgelord fodder so it put me off the tv show, but I'll be sure to check it out :)

#asks #wip: pieces still stuck in your teeth

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joonslfttiddie · 7 months

Text

Home

Chapter 44: Nice to Meet You...

💜Fic Pairing: OT7 x OFC

💜AU/Genre: Reverse Harem/Polyfidelity/Ghosts/AMBW

💜Warnings: Smut/Adult Language/Adult Content

💜Rating: MA

💜Word Count: 3,862

Tia’s POV

At this point, I’m nearly salivating, worse than Pavlov and all them fucking dogs. Like yeeeeeeees! Talk to me rough, but handle me gently, Mr. Min!

“Well?” Yoongi pulls me from my thoughts, laughing at my reaction.

“Huh?”

“I asked, what would I do in your bed? You have like 15 boyfriends already. I’m sure they keep you busy,” he teases.

I scoff but can’t help laughing at his smart-ass mouth. “I have four, for your information, possibly six. I honestly don’t know yet.”

“Oh, excuse me!”

Seeing that bright, gummy smile on his face makes me so happy, and I pray that I will be able to see it forever, with me only adding to his joy. We continue to giggle and jab at each other for a moment longer before I take the conversation on a more serious route.

“But for real, there is something about us, about me, that you don’t know.”

“What? Are you a witch or something? Have I been bewitched by you?” I know he’s joking but he doesn’t realize just how spot-on he is.

“Umm, I wouldn’t call myself a witch but I am definitely…different. So, whenever I met each of my boyfriends, my body knew that we belonged together before I did. It’s as if my intuition nudges at me, signaling that the men I’m fated to love are near. I’m not trying to scare you away, but I already know that you know what feeling I’m talking about.”

He stares at me blankly, only giving himself away by his mouth falling open in shock.

“Yo, what the fuck? Yes, I felt this love-drunk-like excitement as soon as we pulled into your driveway. It damn near knocked me over when Namjoon opened the door. It was so overwhelming. And you,” he pauses as if trying to collect himself. “Fuck, Tia, I thought I was going crazy. As soon as I laid eyes on your face, I knew that I wanted to love you, nah…I needed to love you; I needed to be loved by you. And when you touched me…oh my fucking God. It’s like the world stopped and it was only me and you in that moment. You, the guys…you feel like love personified. Like home.”

“Wow, you described our love so beautifully. That’s how the others have explained their experiences as well. They also say that the feelings remain genuine and strong, but they aren’t as overwhelming the more time we spend together.”

“So what does all of this mean? What does it mean for me? Like, am I also a chosen one?” He chuckles but I know he’s dead serious, only using his humor to lighten the mood.

“I would say so, seeing as we all can feel the tug; can feel you. This means that we are likely fated to love one another, and if you decide to accept our feelings for you, then we live so we love. Please, don’t think that there is any pressure, but we would love for you to become a member of our little family.”

I continue, letting him know about how things have progressed with the other guys, reassuring him that we will have our own special connection and relationship. As he’s still working, I even tell him that the others have done some sexual things when we’re together but not alone. Basically, just filling him in on how things have been thus far.

“We are just dedicated to being honest with each other and always lead with love. We have thrown societal standards out the window to follow our hearts, which are pulling us all here, with this house sort of acting as a hub.”

I go on to share my experiences thus far with the gifts I’ve recently gained, explaining how it runs in my bloodline and things that I’m doing to harness them better.

“So, you saw that you would meet Hoseok, and it played out exactly as you saw it. Does that mean you saw me, too?”

“No, actually, my last meditation session was shorter than I would have liked but I’m sure had I stayed tapped in, I would have.” We stay silent for nearly half an hour with him mulling over what I have shared and me not wanting to sell him this fantasy, wanting him to choose this for himself just as the others have. I just watch him work, moving around the floor on his knees until he speaks up.

“Tia, this all seems too good to be true, you know? I’m apprehensive only because I want this with you…with the guys. I’ve wanted this type of happiness for so long, but I’m afraid that I’ll let my guard down and give you my all, only for the happiness to be snatched away from me.”

My intuition tells me that he’s fighting with his inner thoughts and demons.

“Say more. Talk to me,” I reassure him by placing my hand on his back, using my fingertips to rub small circles along his muscles through the thin fabric of his shirt.

And lo and behold, he opens up, telling me all of the things I already suspected. I let him speak and get all of that negativity out before I move to kneel in front of him, and he pauses, arranging himself to sit back on his heels, focusing on me. I take his face into my hands, just like mom used to do my sister and me, and I gaze past his eyes. This is my first attempt at trying to land in a place most people can’t see. It’s like looking at layers of an onion, and I explore each level until I’m in the right area. Here, I can see him with a lotus flower blooming in his chest, where his heart would be. This signifies that by finally speaking out about his past, his heart is now clearer, softer, and more open.

“Wow,” I can’t help but murmur, experiencing this new ability.

I appreciate his honesty as I’m the first person he’s opened up to like this. I can also see so many happy days in his near future and so on, the feeling is so strong. I make a conscious effort not to go too far into this void, not wanting to see the details of his life. I would rather live and witness those moments alongside him. I try to stay on this frequency, only detecting his mood and how his heart will feel.

Wait… is that-?

I can’t help but chuckle now after knowing how much joy he’s about to experience.

“Oh, baby. I can tell that today will be your last day of uncertainty, and there is so much love and happiness waiting for you. All of the love you deserve and the individuals who are worthy of the love you’re ready to provide are right at your fingertips,” I reassure him, unaware of my own tears until he wipes one away. He sets the nailer onto the floor and now takes my face in his hands, leans in, and kisses me so tenderly yet passionately. His tongue technology extracts more of my essence, which leaks to settle in the crotch of my panties; I can only imagine what else it can do. My desire for him is burning a hole through every fiber of my being. I pull him closer, moaning into his mouth. I need him so badly, and when he moves his hands to rest on my hips, he’s clenching my dress in his fists, letting me know he feels the same way.

Completely inebriated off of each other, we are not concerned about the possibility of someone walking in on us. He pulls me with him as he takes a seat on the floor. I follow, moving to straddle his lap, but he shifts me to mount just one thigh. While I am confused, I stay there, kissing him deeply. I can feel his penis rock hard against my leg. I can imagine how good he will feel deep inside my walls and the heat that has gathered in the pit of my stomach begins to ignite. He grazes the roof of my mouth with the tip of his tongue, again, and again, and again, causing me to moan even more. My arms are wrapped around his neck and my grip on his body strengthens as I’m beginning to lose every ounce of self-control. I’m at the point where I’m willing to do almost anything to be able to cum.

“Are you still horny, love?” Yoongi speaks into my mouth between kisses. “From what I saw earlier, you’ve cum several times today.”

“More,” I answer hungrily.

Without a word, his hands on my hips guide me to rub my thinly covered pussy on his leg, and I do so without hesitation. He continues the motion with one hand while the other reaches up to fondle my breast through my clothing. Yoongi moves to suck vigorously at my neck, then licks a stripe up my throat, sending shocks to my core over and over again. Moaning and holding on for dear life, I continue to grind against him. I’m almost there.

“Okay, love, it’s time to cum for me. Are you ready?”

“Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Please,” I answer as the friction against my clit is about to push me over the edge.

He holds my body securely against him, providing a feeling of safety with his face buried in the crook of my neck, and then begins to do something I’ve never experienced before.

“I’m going to count you down,” he says before continuing to kiss and lick my skin. “I’ll start at 10,” he smooches, “and when I get to 1, you get to cum,” he informs me. “But not a second before that,” he says against my neck, then resumes hungrily sucking and tasting me. “Understand?”

“Yes. Yes.”

He smacks a firm hand against my ass and I whimper. My pussy clenches around nothing as he now caresses my booty cheek, soothing the spot he has just slapped.

“Whenever we’re together like this, you will respect me. Maybe I’m starting out too easy on you.”

“No, no! I’m sorry. Please,” I’m begging at this point as the finish line is approaching and he has yet to start counting, the sting on my ass only exacerbating my current state.

“Do you understand, Tia?” He hisses through clenched teeth.

“Yes, sir, Mr. Min. I understand,” I moan out.

“Very good, love. So you can listen.”

He, then, begins slowly counting backward, interrupting the sequence only to sing my praises. His breath tickles and cools the places already painted with his saliva as I’m riding him faster and faster, chasing my high.

“10...Good girl. 9…Ride my thigh, just like that. 8…You’re doing such a good job. 7…You’re almost there. Hold it for me. 6…You’re doing so good, love. 5…You sound so fucking pretty. Louder. 4…Not yet. Not just yet. 3…You’re listening so well. Almost there, baby. 2…You’re so fucking wet. You hear that? That pretty pussy sounds so juicy. 1…Give it to me. Cum, baby.”

“Holy shi-,” I attempt, being interrupted by a guttural moan that is released before I even realize it.

I would have never thought that I could cum so hard from a man’s thigh, yet here I am, now collapsed on his shoulder, trembling and shaking on Yoongi’s lap. He’s rubbing his hand up and down my back as I’m coming down.

“You did so good, love…so good. I’ve got you,” he says, pulling me to sit up so that he can kiss my lips slowly and softly. His tongue grazes against mine. Releasing my lips with a smooch, he allows me to lie back down on his shoulder. “Was that too much? Did I hurt you?”

“No, I loved it,” I answer. “That was amazing and I must admit, I have never done that before.”

“Well, I’m glad we are able to share something that’s new for the both of us. This can be our thing from now on. That is if you will allow there to be another time.”

“What?” I perk up, sitting upright now and can’t help the smile that spreads across my face. “Are you saying-?”

“Yes, the feeling is undeniable and after coming here, I don’t think I can live another day without you in my life.”

Yoongi comes off timid and quiet at first, but that demon I’ve only gotten a glimpse of will be hell, and I can’t wait to see him at his worst.

“So, does this make you my girlfriend now?”

“If that’s what you want me to be, then yes.”

“How the fuck am I going to explain that I fell in love with a client and she became my girlfriend in the same day? There’s no way anyone will believe this.”

“Explain it to who? You and I both know that your parents will be ecstatic just to see you happy. Outside of them, who cares what other people think? If anyone asks, just tell them you don’t want to discuss your private life; no need to put a label on things to make others comfortable.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Wait…how do you know that my parents will be happy?” I can see when he mentally answers his own question. “You saw it, didn’t you? In my eyes?” His eyes are full of wonder, hoping for another fact about his future. “What all did you see?”

Hoseok’s POV

I am filled with pride as I explain to my parents that I’ve met someone, which is the reason I came home in the wee hours of the morning. While we’re on the topic, I let them know that they shouldn’t wait up for me tonight, either. Still gushing over Tia, I refrain from going into much detail about the guys at the moment. It is not because I’m ashamed of the situation, possibly entering into a poly relationship, but rather because I want to make sure this is really real. It is for me as I’m ready to jump in head first, throwing caution to the wind.

I opt to leave Mickey home today in hopes of really getting to know everyone without the responsibility of caring for him…or burdening Taehyung with it. Since the house is only a few doors down, I throw on a thin shirt, jacket and hat before leaving and walk over. As I’m getting closer, I notice workers out front cutting and sanding boards.

Are they here to build the bed Namjoon had mentioned?

When I ring the bell, Namjoon answers and hugs me once I’m inside, the embrace and the amazing sweetness that fills the air cause my heart to race.

“There’s no need to ring. Just come in next time. The code is 0613,” he says.

“Will do, thanks. Is someone baking cookies?” I ask him, not trying to be humorous, but the statement causes him to laugh out loud, nonetheless.

He calls out for Tia, who comes beaming and bouncing happily down the stairs. Her dress is made of a light fabric that dances and sways as she moves. In combination with her cute little bare feet thumping against the hardwood, she looks so beautiful, adorable, and carefree.

“Hobi!!!”

My name jumps from her lips with a shriek of excitement, which is extremely contagious, causing me to smile even bigger. She crashes into me, causing me to jolt slightly, and then she molds against my chest as if God created her to fit perfectly against me. She then wraps her arms around my torso and I hug her back. When she looks up at me, I squish her cheeks between both palms, which causes her lips to pucker like a fish and I take the chance to place the gentlest smooch against them. Standing on her tiptoes, she returns my affection, sweetly peppering my face with kisses…at least the parts she can reach.

I hug her again, holding her against my body before joking, “What kind of welcome is this? I thought you would be excited to see me.”

The three of us laugh at my sarcasm before Namjoon, as if out of habit, grabs her ass from behind her, then trails his fingertips along her side to hold her hip. Like the most powerful laser, his stare burns into me, making me hot in more ways than one. He kisses the top of her head and then disappears into the library.

“I am very excited to see you! I missed you so much,” Tia says, still obviously excited. “Was that you that rang the bell? Please, feel free to just come in next time,” she reiterates what Namjoon said and repeats the code.

We’ve detached from each other, but only briefly, as I remove my coat and fuzzy hat.

“I will do that, baby girl, thank you. I missed you, too. You and the guys have been on my mind since I woke up,” I confess. “Where is everyone else?”

“They are all around here somewhere,” she lets me know.

After a short pause I ask, “So, are those guys outside here to make your bed?”

“Yes! I’m so excited. Come with me, I want you to meet someone,” Tia says, then drags me behind her up the stairs, and once we’re at the top, that familiar feeling comes over me even stronger than when Namjoon hugged me. “Yoongi! This is Hobi, who I mentioned to you earlier.”

The man puts down his tool and stands to greet me, clapping his hands together to remove any debris before reaching out for mine. I can’t help but notice a wet spot on his pants, but I don’t call attention to it. How can a man look so small yet so fucking sexy at the same time? I can feel the love I have for the other guys, but there’s something different with him.

“Hobi, what’s up? Nice to meet you,” his deep voice travels into my ears and straight to my dick. We shake hands and when he touches me, I feel like I could melt into the palm of his hand. I can only assume he feels the same, judging by how his eyes go wide and the gasp that escapes his throat.

Fuck.

“Yoongi,” I say, savoring the taste of his name on my tongue. “Nice to meet you, too,” I say, then look questioningly at Tia who nods as if confirming what my eyes are asking. I let go of his slightly callused hand to place my own over my heart in an attempt to stop it from leaping out of my chest. I’ve been here less than 30 minutes and have decided to tell my parents about them all; meeting Yoongi has sealed the deal for me. He looks like he wants to either run out of the room or jump out of the nearest window, that is, until Tia gently takes his hand into hers. His ‘deer in headlights’ expression vanishes within the blink of an eye. Then, she reaches over and scratches her nails into the nape of my hair, then grazes her thumb against my cheek…just like that, I’m just as calm and cool as ever, better able to manage these big feelings.

We all startle at the sound of a shutter, looking over at the door to find a smiling Taehyung looking down at the display of his digital camera. Once he’s done examining the photo with a gleam of adoration in his eyes, he rushes over to us.

“Hoseok, you’re here! I missed you…not as much as Tia, but still,” he picks at Tia, then wraps me up into a bro hug.

“Anyways! Did you get some good shots?” Tia asks Taehyung as she’s reaching over to grab his wrist, pulling the camera closer to her.

They continue to talk about his pictures and Yoongi goes back to work, nailing and gluing boards together.

“You’ve gotten a lot done already. It’s coming together nicely,” I compliment him, moving closer to admire his work.

“Thanks. Yeah, I’m over halfway done now,” he says looking down at his watch. “We should be done within a couple more hours since we’ve been at it since early this morning. It’ll be fine to sleep in tonight.”

“Wow…it looks really good. You’re so talented and good with your hands, I see.”

Still working, he doesn’t even turn around but I can tell he’s amused as his shoulders are visibly bouncing in laughter.

“Hobi, are you over here being a little slut? I thought that was my role,” Tia teases me, now standing right behind me.

I quickly turn on my heels and scoop her up to straddle my body, holding her with hands full of her ass. She squeals and holds onto my shoulders as I spin her around the room.

“Am I being a slut?”

“Yes,” she says between laughing and screaming.

I stop spinning and lessen my hold on her butt, allowing her to slide down my body. I follow her down, leaning slightly to kiss her forehead.

“Maybe,” I admit, to which we all burst into laughter.

I’m not sure how much time has passed, but since I got here, one by one, the guys finish with their individual tasks. Everyone is chattering with each other in the kitchen while helping Tia prepare dinner for all of us. Being that she’s not used to feeding so many hungry grown men, we decide to cook several meals that we can all share.

“Okay, we’ll need to go grocery shopping tomorrow. We have enough for breakfast in the morning but that’ll be the last of it,” she announces to no one specifically.

I’m still finding my place within the group but I love the way Namjoon, Jungkook, Jimin, and Taehyung seem to float around Tia effortlessly; it almost looks choreographed. They take turns hugging her from behind while she stirs this and that, kissing her neck, cheek, hair…anything they can reach, really. She dips her spoon in different pots, letting the men taste what she’s preparing.

“Where’s Hobi?” Tia asks, looking around the kitchen until her eyes land on mine. “Hobi, come here. Would you like to taste it?”

She asks me that as if she can read my mind, and I’m grateful for her acknowledging me. I accept and make my way over to her, wrapping my arm around her waist as she feeds me.

“How is it?” Her curious expression is so cute, waiting in anticipation for my answer.

“Mmm…it’s good!”

One would think I just offered her a million dollars the way she beams, happy that I’m satisfied. When I move to go back to my seat at the island, she applies pressure to my hand, asking me to stay without saying a word, and so I do. Before I even realize it, I’ve been added to the dance, moving around the other guys and helping Tia with whatever she needs, just like I’ve always been here, perfectly in sync.

#joonslfttiddie #ambw #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #bts smut #black protagonist #reincarnated lovers #reincarnation #reverse harem #bangtanwhq #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoesok #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #haunted house

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changingplumbob · 5 months

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Pancakes Household: Chapter 9, Part 6

Onyx finishes their last day attending active high school solo

Onyx: Anyone seen Mrs T

Mrs Hensley: For your information Mrs Tinker is taking the younger class today, you’ll just be stuck with me

Onyx and Carson pull faces at each other over Amie’s desk. Mrs H is not a favourite of theirs. She is much more strict than Mrs T and Carson won’t soon forget when she yelled at him for not being in class before class even started. The idea of an hour of math led by her does not fill the soul with joy.

Mrs H: For today’s lesson we shall be focusing on the pie chart. Now there are several types of pie chart…

Darwin: *whispers* Apple or raspberry

William: *whispers* Definitely apple

Darwin: *whispers* Hot with ice cream, the only right answer

Mrs H: We will be focusing on teaching you two types which come in different forms, and yes- this will be on your exam

There is a general murmur of discontent through the class at the idea of exams.

After the class draws to a close Onyx realises the girl they gave Halloween candy to is sitting behind them, and decides to go say hi. She’s a little confused at first, after all she never saw their face under the helmet, but she gladly goes to lunch with Onyx and their friends, explaining that the bus from her town to the school only started recently.

Mr A: Pancakes. Were you paying attention in class

Onyx: Yes I was. You know my brother is starting this week so you’ll have to refer to me by my name soon

Mr A: But Pancakes is your name

Zhafira: *whistles* Wow, what a jerk

Onyx: I think he just finds calling us by our last names easier, he seems pretty daft for a principal if I'm honest

Carson: What did you do in art then

Scarlett: Oh we got to do these magazine collages, trying to represent one colour through various images

William: *sighs* I miss Mrs T

Onyx: You want to check out the roller rink?

Carson: I’ve still got some science homework to do, sorry Nyx

So Onyx goes and mucks about on the computer until it’s time for science class. Something glitched though and everyone got called to class at 3pm and the class day ended at 3:15... I have no explanation.

Back home Bob has the house to himself and Ginger while the younger Pancakes are off to their after school activities, Onyx has cheer-leading and Fergus has drama club. Bob is pretty happy with how the visit he and Eliza paid to the social worker went. They seemed to make a good impression and the woman assured them they were being put on the wait-list. Bob doesn’t normally like the idea of cheating his way through something but has called Aaron asking if he can keep an ear out for any situations that could get him and Eliza an infant sooner.

At the moment he’s running names through his head. If they’re lucky and get a young enough one they should be able to pick a name. The drone beeps reminding him that he’s meant to be talking to his fans, whoops, lost the train of thought there. Bob is able to cook a little on auto pilot these days but he should be following along with the baking closely to avoid disaster. Luckily the cake comes out perfectly! All ready for Fergus' birthday.

As Bob leaves for shift the kids arrive back and Onyx goes straight to setting the table.

Eliza: Are we ready for dinner

Onyx: Yes, I’ll grab Fergus

Eliza: I think you two should know I got promoted today

Fergus: YES! Treat time

Eliza: Why do you say that

Onyx: Mum last promotion we got the treehouse

Eliza: That was for rebate day

Fergus: *scoffs* Like that’s a real day

Ginger: *whines* I want to go walkies

Onyx: I know Ginger, I know, just let me finish this homework

Ginger: *whines* Hurry up, it's been 15 years

Onyx: Alright, pie chart done. Where’s your harness

Ginger: *barks* in my pockets

Onyx sets her up and then the pair head out for a night walk. Luckily they live in a good area so Onyx isn’t worried about their safety.

President, just two steps away from the top of the corporate ladder! Eliza feels proud she’s managed to get this far. The promotion also came with some bonus vacation days she’ll be able to use as substitute maternity days when they can get an infant. She continues the needlework she was doing and despite pricking herself once or twice finishes it off nicely.

Ginger: *barks* Is it bedtime mother

Eliza: Don’t worry Ginger, as soon as Bob gets back and eats, we’ll go to sleep

Ginger: *barks* I call dibs on the middle of the bed

Bob had another uneventful shift, before he can get a promotion he needs to increase his fame and baking. Nevertheless despite being gloomy he feels like it’s slowly getting closer. After finishing his meal he heads to bed to find Eliza sitting up awake.

Eliza: What did Aaron say? Can he pull any adoption strings?

Bob: He’ll put the word around to keep an ear out but it could take some time. Don't worry, it'll happen

Previous ... Next

#sims 4 #the sims #the sims 4 #simblr #my sims #ChangingPlumbobStorytime #R0904 #BobPancakes #ElizaPancakes #OnyxPancakes #FergusPancakes #CarsonFoster

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whimsicallyenchantedrose · 5 months

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Season 3 Rewatch Drabbles: 3x16 It's not Easy Being Green

Note: I don't know who created the above gif. If you're the creator, reach out to me, and I'll add an attribution.

Summary: A series of 100-500 word drabbles to accompany my rewatch of season 3 of Once Upon a Time. There will be a drabble–either a deleted scene, a “fix it” fic or a character musing for each episode of the season. Focus will be on Emma, Henry, the Charmings and Killian–with an emphasis on Captain Swan’s epic love story.

Word Count: 649

Other Chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17) (19) (20) (21) (22) (23) (24) (25) (26) (27) (28)

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

Emotions swirled within her that evening as she heard the knock at her door at the B&B and opened to find her son and Killian–windswept, smiling, excited–standing before her. So many emotions, she wondered how they could all exist within one person and not tear her apart.

Grief over Neal’s death, anger over the Zelena for causing it, frustration that they’d survived the recent encounter but still been thoroughly trounced, relief that her son at least was safe and happy, something like butterflies at the very sight of Killian, guilt that she might, possibly, perhaps, in some small way feel….something…for him. Not love of course! Couldn’t be that, but…something. But yes guilt that she could feel anything for someone else when Neal had just died, anger at Neal for his bull-headed stupidity in getting himself killed.

Yes, all of that, but above all, an overwhelming desire to run. A part of her deep inside knew things were more complicated now, that she couldn’t just run back to New York, to the good life she’d thought she had, and forget about all of this–Storybrooke, magic, being the savior, her family, Henry’s family. Killian. But the fact that she knew that was the case didn’t make the desire lessen.

Why, why, why couldn’t she just have an ordinary life? A peaceful one? One where she didn’t have to worry about some sadistic green witch turning her son into a flying monkey? One where she could have an ordinary job (albeit one with more than a little danger and unpredictability)? One where she could have a perfectly ordinary (even if kind of boring) man to love?

He was lying to you. He was really just another one of Zelena’s flying monkeys, the honest part of her that she could never completely drown out pointed out helpfully.

And there it was. Even her happy, ordinary life was an illusion. But she’d built a happy, normal life for herself and Henry. She could do it again, and she could put all of this behind her.

At least so she told herself when she was alone, when Killian wasn’t standing in front of her looking at her like that–like he knew her, really knew her to her core and loved her anyway. It was terrifying.

“How did the queen fare against the witch?” Killian asked as soon as Henry disappeared into their room.

“She survived, but the rest is definitely more than a doorway conversation,” she said a little dismissively. But Killian deserved more than that. He deserved at least a little gratitude. “Thanks for taking him.”

Killian smiled wistfully. “There’s more Bae in your boy than you realize,” he said sadly.

She could see it in his eyes, hear it in his voice. It was easy to forget–especially after the idiots the two of them made of themselves over her in Neverland, but Killian cared for Neal too, mourned him too. She prepared to say something comforting, something to let him know she understood and was there for him like he’d been there for her, but then he continued and touched on the heart of the issue.

“He needs to know about his father, Emma,” he said gently but firmly. “You can’t just take him back to New York when this is over and pretend like none of this is real.”

The fear, guilt and need to run bubbled up again, and she knew she couldn’t deal with this any more tonight.

And so she ran. Rather than answer, she smiled sadly, said good night and disappeared into her room. One day, probably one day soon, she’d need to confront the truth of what he’d said, but that day was not today. Today she just needed to shut him out, listen to her son gush about the fun he’d had with Killian, and pretend like normal was still possible.

NEXT CHAPTER->

#season 3 rewatch drabbles #ouat fanfiction #my fanfiction #cs fanfiction #3x16 it's not easy being green

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canyouhearthelight · 2 months

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Nihilus Rex, Ch. 30: Meet the Andovers

Does this read like a fluffy chapter? Absolutely, especially after the previous chapter. However, this is absolutely essential to the plot, as we get to meet Nils' parents - more specifically his mother.

That being said, the side gag going on in this one may read like one of the sillier chapters of "The Miys", but I swear it was entirely @baelpenrose's doing.

Mama's hooked on Mary Kay

Brother's hooked on Mary Jane

And Daddy's hooked on Mary two doors down

Mary, Mary quite contrary

We get bored, so we get married

Just like dust, we settle in this town

On this broken merry go 'round

Kasey Musgraves, “Merry go round”

Lash

I fidgeted with my hair before inwardly cursing myself and forcing my hands to my side. “You promise your mother isn’t as bad as Dr. Andover?” I asked for what had to have been the thousandth time. Nils meeting Mama and Baba had been spontaneous, something I had been delaying more for my sake than his. But I knew almost nothing about his parents beyond the fact that their relationship was rough on a good day.

“My mother’s worst sin is that she’s a bit oblivious to how people without money tend to live - despite our church spanning pretty much every economic class in the city. She did, however, take your community’s part in the class action lawsuit against the city, or her firm did, and last I checked, they’re winning. She’s happy to see me putting myself out there again. You two will actually get along great.” I was still distracted from how my meeting with the Parsons had gone. “Oh, and uh. Quick note. My father wasn’t…happy at all with our little stunt with the media originally, but now he’s had time to think about it and he loves you. And the fact that we’re dating. Like actually. Just not for the reasons you’d want him to.”

So, the rich lady is the nice kind, and the holier-than-thou doctor liked me. I couldn’t actually figure out which was worse, but all in all they could hate me for a plethora of reasons, so I was taking what I could get. “And we’re having dinner with them? Please tell me it’s something I’m going to recognize.”

“Anything you grew up eating, they wouldn’t recognize. And to be so honest, if I grew up eating it, it’s probably too flavorless for your culture to grant it status as “food,” regardless of official classification. Things you and I have eaten together - actually remember that ritzy Mediterranean fusion place with the Ethiopian and Turkish sections on the menu as well as the southern European countries? The one I took you to a few months ago? That’s where we’re going.” Nils’ voice had shifted all at once from apologetic to confident, as though he knew that at least that, I’d actually like.

My mouth did start watering a bit. “The place with the bad spanakopita and the amazing dolmades?”

“Because where better to take a girl to meet your parents than the sight of your first date. That one. Yes.” He answered with a cocky grin.

“I can face almost anything as long as I can eat,” I nodded, feeling more confident as I teased as our Uber slowed to a stop. “I’ll even use a fork, just for them.”

“Ah, yes, the table manners of the lower classes, a thing that has been of concern more recently than the long 19th century, that is definitely. What I was concerned about.” He offered me his arm. “Shall we?”

I took the arm, and brushed my hair over my shoulder one last time. “Let’s…. I hate to say get this over with, but our history of meeting each other’s parents isn’t the best. And that’s considering that my family liked you before you were a hero.”

“My meeting with your parents was going perfectly well before an unpredictable event caused by outside factors with whom we have settled accounts.” Nils spoke in a sarcastic, almost parodical voice that would have been funny if applied to anything else. “No, though. You’re right. If it makes you feel any better, we’re the only terrorists at tonights’ venue. No, uh…my parents like you. My mom for good reasons, my dad for bad ones. Not anything creepy,” he said quickly, “More…deeply self-serving.”

I tugged his arm. “Okay, let’s go before I chicken out and make up a cold or something.”

“Oh, I never even considered ‘feign sudden illness’ when your parents were about to show up.” Nils led me into the restaurant, and when we made our entrance at a restaurant for wealthy people, fairly dressed up, we turned heads walking in. He whispered, “Take bets - do we look good, or are we just getting looks for being local heroes?” He spotted his parents table and led me towards it, pulling out a chair for me and seating me before taking his own seat.

His mother looked at me, and gave me a reassuring smile.

“So,” Nils said, almost breathless. “Mom, Father, this is my girlfriend, Lash Botelho. I’m glad you’re finally meeting her formally. Lash, this is Dr. Michael Andover, you met him at the hospital, and this is Katherine Andover, attorney-at-law. Lash is a student of business and computer science, with a minor in graphic design - and she’s an excellent artist on a personal level. We’ve done a bunch of projects together.”

“So you guys met through school,” his mother seemed interested. “And Lash - business, computer science, and graphic design? That’s quite a lot. Heavy course load. I thought Nils was putting on a lot when he was doing computer science, political science, and history at the same time, but if I remember right your course load is even heavier.”

“It helps that I already do a lot of work with nonprofits,” I admitted. “So the computer science and graphic design were areas I already had a solid foundation in. The business courses are the ones where I’m learning the most new information.”

“Nils says the same thing about poli-sci and computer science - lot of activist work. Doesn’t make it less impressive that you can balance all that with working outside school as well.” She said, quietly.

Nils’ father broke into the conversation. “You work with nonprofits,” he said, suddenly much more interested. “Which ones?”

Nils’ eyes got sharp. “Mostly ones that help poor people access resources they need.”

I saw an opportunity and leapt in with both feet. “Right now, I do a lot with clean water initiatives, to help minimize exposure to insect- and waterborne illnesses. West Nile, Zika, even e.coli. Things that are easy to prevent but devastating if you can’t afford treatment.”

I saw wheels turning in his father’s head. “Any particular foundations I should look at? Nils is always vetting my charity donations for me, and that sounds like a worthy one.”

“I actually just took on a contract for one that has developed a straw that filters any water that is fifty-percent or less contaminants into potable water, without a need to boil it. I’ll find the name and have him pass it on to you. The proof of concept is just incredible.”

He grunted, with a tone that sounded like he was impressed against his will, and Nils looked back and forth between us, clearly nervous.

Mrs. Andover was back to talking to me. “So, what do you two work on together?”

Nils glanced at his parents. “Guys, you know, this is a lot less… ‘parents meeting my girlfriend’ than I thought it was going to be. Honestly you’re talking like you’re deciding whether or not to invest in a startup.”

Mrs. Andover started laughing. “Well, Nils, honestly, you tell us basically nothing about this girl. All I know about her is that she’s beautiful, she’s clearly won you over, you two work together, she’s clearly brilliant based on what she’s studying and keeping up with, and now that she does work with some pretty impressive nonprofits. I’m trying to get to know her, and I figure asking about work is less likely to be too invasive.”

Dr. Andover shrugged. “We also know her father works at the hospital. And that both her parents got hurt in the…”

Mrs. Andover glowered at him. “Wait, both of them? You didn’t…Nils, you didn’t tell me both her parents were hurt, and I suppose my husband couldn’t have for HIPPA reasons. Lash, how are your parents doing? I’m so sorry, I should have led with that.”

Grateful for something a little less formal, I relaxed. “Baba - my father - is home and doing much better than expected. He lost his leg, but is very determined to learn to use the prosthesis. His physical therapist actually threatened to take it away because he rubbed blisters from pushing himself too hard.” I gave a small laugh. “It’s good to see, though. And Mama came home two days ago… she is still on breathing treatments, but off of twenty-four-seven oxygen - she had smoke inhalation damage. She was very upset she still cannot shout at Baba when he is being stubborn, but my sister found an airhorn from somewhere and no one has had peace since.” I stopped for a drink of water and noticed all eyes on me. My face flushed and I covered my mouth. “Oh my gosh, I was rambling, I’m so sorry.”

Nils grabbed my hand. “Don’t apologize, I love you.” He blinked. “When you talk about your family, I mean.”

Mrs. Andover was watching us, oblivious to me trying to process that Nils had just said that, and she started chuckling, abruptly. “I can’t say airhorn is the method I’d have gone with, but…it’s good to know that men are stubborn like that across race, culture, creed, or birth.” Her voice took on the slight timbre of an old poem near the end.

Nils blinked. “Did. Did you just quote Rudyard Kipling at my Indian-American girlfriend?”

“Pakistani-Indian,” I corrected absently. “And yes, but it’s still very true. You’re just as stubborn as Baba, you just had more appropriate clothing on.”

His mother blushed, his father didn’t seem to recognize why what his wife had done might have been a faux pas, and I forged ahead to keep things from going south as Dr. Andover changed the subject. “Have either of you eaten here before? It’s a bit upscale from the places Nils prefers, normally.”

Nils glowered. “I took her here for the first date.”

Mrs. Andover smiled. “Oh, very nice.” The waiter came by and took our orders, refilling the glasses with water. “This place is really spicy, especially the Ethiopian side of the menu.”

Then his father asked a question, and Nils glared at him with absolute loathing. “So, Lash, you and Nils made quite the effective television appearance. You’re already doing a lot in public service, do you have any designs in a career there?”

Nils squeezed my knee under the table, but this was the one question I had been bracing myself for, thankfully. “Well, my goal is to set up a business that focuses on boosting the visibility of nonprofits, while contributing a significant portion of our revenue into areas where it can create the biggest impact: schools, literacy programs, health education, things like that. Try to shore up the foundations where normal budgets may not be able to.” And here’s hoping Nils doesn’t die trying not to laugh at that answer.

“Hm.” Mrs. Andover glowered at her husband as he continued, this was clearly an argument they’d had before, “And those are all worthy goals, but going directly into politics with your education and Nils’, together, you could directly impact all of those, and their budgets, far more direct power with what you can do, if you’re willing to get into the system together and change it.”

I shook my head firmly. “I understand where you are coming from, Dr. Andover, but I’m sure it surprises nobody here that I very much disagree. Public office is far more restrictive than independent enterprise, foremost - I would have to balance special interests with what would be considered ‘pet projects’, whereas through my own business I can connect the charities with who needs them the most, while ensuring the charities are as visible as possible to maximize their operating budgets. And besides, Nils doesn’t strike me as someone who would thrive in public office.” I turned to him and visibly squeezed his hand. “No offense.”

“None taken. My father has rarely, if ever, liked the idea of me going into policy rather than running for office, despite the fact that policy experts maintain far more freedom to operate in personal lives while having more influence than politicians - just much less prestige. Honestly I don’t know what led people to believe I’d be good at public office. I gave one very smooth speech on TV.” He took on that slightly mocking tone that I abruptly realized must have been from a lifetime of practice. “Which, to be fair, does seem like the majority of what voters expect. And Father - never try to push my girlfriend into your side of this argument again. I know the only reason you tried to do this is because you thought she’d help me with demographics I’d otherwise struggle with - nice code for ‘people of color that white boy extraordinaire Nils Andover can’t exactly relate to’ by the way.”

I let the silence that followed hang for a moment while the waiter set down our food, before giving Mrs. Andover an openly curious look. “Don’t worry, babe. I am sure your mother strongly agrees.” When she looked surprised, I casually gestured with my water. “After all, Mrs. Andover, you’re a non-name partner in a law firm prestigious enough to represent a class action lawsuit against not just the city, but the police, and yet I’ve never seen you run for office. Surely with that kind of acumen, you would be a shoo-in for the public defender’s office, or the DA. All the way up to Attorney General, easily.” Nils looked at me in confusion, and I murmured “You seriously thought I wasn’t going to look up the law firm that is representing my community? She’s partner, Nils.”

“I’m aware how she ranks in her firm,” he murmured back, “I guess I didn’t put that together, good eye.”

Mrs. Andover chuckled. “Oh, I like the two of you together. Good eye, Lash. People should stay where they think they can make the strongest impact in what they’re passionate about - if you don’t think that’s office, don’t run for office. Oh, and Lash, offhand - I can’t say why, but your community ought to start taking notes about any and all interactions with the police from here on out.”

Nils smirked. “That means they’re going to be unhappy with the results of the lawsuit.”

Mrs. Andover flicked a wrist. “No, just that her and her community ought to be taking notes and keeping documentation. Any further statements cannot be made at this time.”

“Mama is a secretary,” I assured them. “Taking notes is a compulsion for her, and letting her know will give her something to do other than honk at us.”

“I’m glad. Let her know I’d be happy to speak to her directly as well.” She slipped me a card.

Nils took a bite of his food, simply enjoying the blend of spices - and then turned to watch his father take a gulp of water. I had been training him to increase his tolerance, and almost certainly to flex he’d ordered one of the spiciest things on the menu.

Granted, even my tolerance wasn’t that high, so he was almost certainly just hiding the pain to fuck with his parents. I just grinned and scooped up a bite of stew. “I don’t know exactly what they add to the okra stew to make it so good, but it is certainly in my top ten favorite dishes. Mrs. Andover?” I had noticed she’d ordered the same - a very mild but extremely flavorful stew.

“Oh, it’s excellent. One of the reasons I love coming here. I’m glad Nils took you here for the first date. Means some of what I taught him stuck.”

Nils blushed. “I mean…good food, good company?” He was dutifully eating his food, but I could hear him struggling not to choke, shifting between pleasure and agony with each bite.

His mother gave him a flat look. “Make a girl feel special, take her somewhere nice with a bunch of really good options.”

Finally, I had mercy on both my boyfriend and his profoundly rude father and waved down our server. “I am really craving spiced buttermilk… any chance we can get four glasses of it? I don’t mind paying extra if it has to be made special. I didn’t see it on the menu.”

“Absolutely not. We invited you,” to my surprise, Nils’ father spoke first. “We’ll cover. But yes, spiced buttermilk would be good.”

In much less time than I expected, the server had returned with four glasses of thick, bright orange drink. No sooner had he walked away than I took a long sip of mine, rolling my eyes in exaggerated pleasure. “Buttermilk with turmeric, ginger, saffron, cinnamon, and a chai infusion. It compliments the food so well.”

Nils took a slow sip, clearly restraining himself from chugging, and took a breath. “It is excellent. Thank you for the suggestion.” He took another bite of the chicken, tasting the spice, the flavor, the heat, and then a slow sip of the milk. I could see a slight bead of sweat tracing down the side of his face, and wondered, briefly, about my boyfriend’s pain tolerance. And why he was doing this.

Mrs. Andover took a sip of her own, eyes widening. “Oh, this is lovely!” She pushed the last glass closer to her husband. “It’s… The closest I can describe it is it’s like a glass of melted orange sherbet. You should try it.”

After the first sip, every ounce of Dr. Andover’s composure collapsed as he inhaled half the glass. The facade was immediately put back in place however, as he sat up straight and set the glass down gently. “I agree, it’s quite the compliment to the food. I may indulge in a second, but we shall see.”

Nils took another bite of the berber-slathered chicken, smiling at the taste, and took a sip of the milk before the wave of heat hit him - he seemed to have gotten the timing down, since the facade no longer looked quite so forced. “Excellent suggestion, Lash. Would anyone like to try each other’s dishes?”

Mrs. Andover blinked, but smiled. “Oh, does Lash’s family do that, too? I know the Parsons do, and since Lash and I ordered the same thing…Here, Lash, you can have some of my side if I can have some of yours.”

I grinned, nodding. “My family eats communal meals, usually, so we all share, yes. But… I didn’t get to try the rosti last time and will gladly swap you for some of my dolmades - they’re not spicy, but very pickled.”

She smiled, and put some of the rostis on my plate and took some of my dolmades. I wisely turned down some of what Nils had ordered, and sensing my trepidation, so did his mother - though we both took some of his side, and gave him a bit of ours. His father blindly lunged ahead, clearly thinking the idea of swapping was ridiculous but not wanting to annoy his wife, and took a bit of Nils’ chicken, and Nils took a bit of the goat from his father, eating it with a smile.

I could feel the malevolence in Nils smile as his father bit into the berber-slathered chicken and rapidly gulped the milk, all trace of composure gone. “How…how were you keeping your calm through eating that the whole meal?” He managed to get out between gasps.

“I’m dating an Indian-Pakistani girl. She’s been training my spice tolerance.” Nils’ voice was casual.

Mrs. Andover seemed to be ignoring her son and husband’s antics, instead calmly gesturing with a spoon at her spouse’s meal. “How spicy is that?” When I glanced at the men, she shook her head. “They’ve always been like that, it’s best not to engage.”

I glanced again, before staring at the goat and trying to remember what had been ordered. Slowly, I answered. “It isn’t very spicy - I think it’s a bit bland, to be honest - but because it’s so fatty, the spice stays around and builds. You’re supposed to eat it with a bread or some other carb, to help.”

Without asking, she scooped a chunk of goat onto each of our plates. “Okay, show me. I love trying new things.”

Hesitantly, I tore a piece of bread off, and proceeded to use it to pick a chunk of goat off the bone, sheer habit causing me to use my fingers. The piece came away cleanly, and I shoved the entire bundle in my mouth before realizing what I had done.

To my abject horror, I looked up to see Mrs. Andover - coiffed, coutured, rich Mrs. Andover - with her fingers in her mouth and a look of delight on her face. She chewed quickly and swallowed before I could apologize for my manners. “Oh, that is so nice! And much easier than using a fork, no wonder he was struggling so much!”

“Ma’am, I am so sorry - “ I covered my mouth as she tore off another piece of bread and attacked the goat with gusto.

“I asked how it was meant to be eaten, Lash.” She gestured at herself, particularly her face. “Do I look like the kind of woman accustomed to eating spicy food properly?” When I was forced to shake my head, half surprised she’d asked like that, she added. “For God’s sake, Lash, do you think for an instant Nils got his sense of humor from his father?”

I glanced at Dr. Andover - still playing spicy-food chicken with his son and losing decisively - before shaking my head. “I just - Eating with fingers is not an American thing,” I finished lamely.

“As Nils will explain to you or indeed anyone at length - and has explained to me, and his father - that is very much an old world prohibition imported from upper-class Europeans, and lower-class Americans only developed issues with it when the average American became wealthy enough to have easy access to silverware. He will remind everyone who even tangentially brings this up how recent that is.” She gave a faint smile. “I wasn’t born wealthy, you know. I’m from the generation of Americans where one could work their way through college provided one started out merely middle class.”

“ ‘Merely’,” I mused. “And trust me that I am the last person Nils will need to lecture about silverware. He’s seen Baba eat palak paneer with his fingers and an extreme amount of dignity.” I paused and made a confused face. “I am still not sure how he keeps it out of his moustache, I’ll be honest. And it’s quite a moustache. He’s very proud of it.”

She chuckled. “Fair enough. I suppose I should have said, ‘I’m not judging’. My husband came from money, I did not. I think you and Nils are great together, by the way. I love the way you talk to each other.”

“We do argue, sometimes,” I confessed. “But usually it’s cultural, and we find our way through pretty quickly. My parents adore him, so there’s that. Mori - my sister - tolerates him well enough, which is practically a glowing approval from her.”

“A young man like Nils should have a partner he argues with. If there’s no arguments with a personality like that, it means either one of you is totally bulling over the other by force of will, or both of you are taking turns manipulating the other. Working through arguments when they come up is a much better sign.” She shrugged. “I’m glad your parents like him. I like you - and as to my husband…you impressed him and he respects you and your family. That will, in the long run, be better than him just “liking” you.”

I caught Nils stabbing another chunk of hallucigenically spicy chicken, and snatched his plate and fork away with the same hand. “I am not going to coddle you later when that is just as spicy as it was going in,” I warned him calmly. “Rice, sherbet, and buttermilk.”

Nils nodded. “Got it babe.”

Mrs. Andover pulled the dregs of the goat away from her spouse, pointing at me and Nils. “Same thing. Rice, sherbert, dairy. Lash is a lovely and clever girl, stop antagonizing our son, insert lecture here.” With that, she rested her chin elegantly on her intertwined fingers, winking at me. “I think you and I are going to get along great. You have my number, let’s set up a ladies’ day - invite your mother and sister. I’ll treat if your family chooses the restaurant.”

One and a half out of two was a win in my books. “I’ll talk to them about it, see if we can schedule it before Mori heads back home.”

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #original fiction #my writing #nihilus rex #afterverse #modern dystopia #cyberpunk #traumatized characters #speculative fiction #original writing

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greensagephase · 6 months

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Ok, ok, it's been so long and I have many things to say.

First, I already have a sketch of Miguel (kind of), and he looks so soft. I was going in with super low expectations because he is so hard to draw, but I love how it came out! School keeps me busy, and I suck at managing my time, but I'll draw Pavitr soon enough so I can get started with fanarts (If I hear another engineer say my career is easy I'm losing it)

Second, the nickname post was so cute!!! I always love Miguel fluff. We don't have enough of it. I remember one time you hinted Miguel might or might not get jealous in one part of Nonviolent Communication but if I'm being honest I can't see Miguel being a jealous type (Although I'd love to read your take on it) I think he is more of an insecure person. Sure, I see him getting angry and even uncomfortable if someone flirts or tries anything with his partner, but not because he is jealous but rather because he wants his partner to be safe. I picture him hugging them the moment he gets home and just melting with them in his arms, nuzzling his nose against their hair, drowning in them. I think he focuses more on their safety than in any other thing.

"Did he touch you? Offer you something? What else did he say? Are you sure you're ok?"

In his mind, he is just glad they're safe and comfortable. Anything else is secondary, but I can maybe see him getting jealous of the attention they give to others, but if that's the case, I think he would just start saying nonstop that they are his and they're in a relationship at every opportunity he gets. He would also stand closer, just as an extra precaution (because he is petty like that)

Ya, por último, do you think Miguel eats red meat during Easter? I'm sure he allows Gabri to do so, but I have this silly idea that Miguel just... doesn't. He isn't religious or anything, but whenever he serves something with red meat to his daughter, he hears his mom telling him that he shouldn't eat that because it's disrespectful. Again, he isn't religious, but I like to think that something deep inside him tells him he shouldn't. Like that feeling when you can finally do something your parents didn't allow (like pulling an all-nighter or trying a certain food or watching a show). It's not guilt. It just feels odd... So he instead cooks seafood unless Gabri specifically says she wants something else. It's a silly idea, but I feel it's something ATSV Miguel would do

I'm sorry for the late answer! I'll check the last headcanons I sent you so I can answer your questions on them in another message (and show you my sketch). I feel this one is too long already. Take care!!!

Hi @coralskybunny !! I'm so happy to see your ask 😊

I love seeing that you're doing well with your drawing journey, especially drawing Miguel!! He's def hard to draw (I'm still struggling and I've been bad about practicing, too, because of poor time management recently😭 so that doesn't help! Really hoping to get back into it this week tho, so I can draw him correctly one day), so I'm happy that you love the way it turned out!! I'd love to see your sketch and the full fanarts of your headcannons once you're ready to post it!! I was actually thinking about the last ones you sent the other day because in the upcoming chapter Miguel, Pav, and Hobie will have a scene together, so I thought of you and your headcannons!! 🥺 Also, good luck with school, haha!! I'm going to make a guess that you're studying architecture? I always see that engineers and architects have beef, so that's my educated guess! But don't feel pressured to confirm! Either way, no career is easy, they're all hard in their own way 😭

Also, thank you!! I'm glad you liked the nicknames for Miguel post!! I've been meaning to post a little more since I feel like I rarely post original content, even though I have a lot of ideas but sometimes lack of time and overthinking stops me. I do agree that we need more Miguel fluff though!! We need more people to write or send fluff requests to writers!! We need like a fluff week of writing or something for Miguel!!

AWWW your jealous Miguel idea just got me in my feelings for real!!!!! 🥹🥹 Him being focused on his partner's safety more than anything >>>>> why is he not real???? No, I totally agree that Miguel would be more insecure than anything!! In Nonviolent Communication, I've included that Miguel has felt/sometimes still feels insecure about his appearance and his family life (the parents situation), so if we do have jealous Miguel in the fic... 👀 This aspect will def play into it. Also, the bit about him being more jealous of the attention - I can see this as well!! But in the fluffy way that Miguel just loves receiving his partner's attention, you know?

I can see him def making it known that his partner is taken especially if he sees that his partner feels uncomfortable by someone trying to make a move on them despite already making it known they're taken, so Miguel then steps in and we have him pulling them into him, placing his hand on their waist, and "hola, mi amor" or whatever nickname he has for his partner, to emphasize to the person to stop bothering his partner.

But do trust that if we see jealous Miguel in Nonviolent Communication, it won't be him going crazy or acting aggressive/hostile. I don't want to say much but believe me, we'll continue to see soft Miguel no matter the situation, even when he gets all celoso and grumpy, which I can see him displaying - grumpiness, not aggression!!

I'm very quickly going to say that I didn't know you're a Spanish speaker, so I'm delightfully surprised to see your Spanish in this ask!!! :) But about Easter and whether Miguel follows lent - it's actually crazy that you bring this up because I was thinking about this, too, recently as I'm Catholic and was not eating red meat. And well, this man truly does live rent free in my head and being Mexican, I like to wonder about his experiences - both the serious and the funny ones - as a Latino.

I hope I'm not rambling from this point on but this is something very interesting to think about, so here we go!! I know in a comic run it's mentioned that he's not religious but that he still finds himself at times doing certain things out of habit because he grew up in a Catholic home. He doesn't identify as one though, but instead as an atheist. That's comic Miguel and that's what I've seen so far from doing research in the past for the fic. I haven't read the comics yet, so I may be missing some information but that seems to be it.

ATSV Miguel on the other hand... I have a feeling he's not super religious right now (maybe hasn't been for several years), but he's also not an atheist?? It's more like he's lost a lot of faith at one point with so many negative events and situations taking place in his life (and like, I wouldn't blame him because if the writers stick to comic events... I would, too, lowkey). I think he probably has an ongoing inner conflict with his religion. Despite that, I truly do think that he still respects not eating red meat during lent for the reason that it's so ingrained into his brain that doing that is bad.

I can see him letting Gaby eat whatever, especially her being a child and children being excused (at least that's my knowledge; children, the elderly, and those sick/injured are excused), if she wishes to eat red meat but like you said, I imagine he finds himself cooking meals without red meat because again, it's ingrained into his mind that eating red meat is disrespectful. Also, the fact that he lives in a New York that's heavily influenced by Latin culture - I feel like that also influences him and leads him to opt out from eating red meat.

But I don't know, that's my idea as of right now! It's certainly so so interesting to think about and I like how I have a favorite character that I can think about in these contexts that are familiar to me (and to so many other fans). I really hope that we get to see much more about Miguel's backstory in BTSV regarding these little things because I certainly find it intriguing. I think it'd add another layer to his character, too! I just really want more Miguel content, let's be real 😭 but yeah those are my thoughts on it! I'm sorry for how long this turned out!!

I look forward to reading your responses and seeing your sketch!!! I really enjoy your asks, so thank you for sending this one!!!! Take care friend, and have a wonderful day/night!! ❤️

#miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel ohara #spiderman 2099 #across the spiderverse #asked and answered

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