#then again. maybe I should give the poor kid a break and just let him be happy lol

[multishipper-baby]

I still have wing brainrot so... Some very simplistic concepts with Rayray. Featuring the colors of the animal he was based on, and both of his dad's colors.

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

DPXDC: I wanna be like most girls ghosts.

or Danny: What should I do to make my mom happy?

or ~Danny deserves a little teenage rebellion as a treat~

Maddie: I just want this damned Phantom to stop pretending to be a hero! All ghosts are pure evil, who is he trying to deceive? Danny: Oh, really? And Danny took it personally.

It’s not Danny’s fault that he’s a good kid and wants to make his parents happy. But why would he have to be a monster to make them happy? Why must they hate him to be happy?

Danny’s obsession was going crazy.

Well, when your own parents call you a monster in the face, it hurts. Why do they always believe that only their opinion is the absolute truth? They have no idea how much worse things would be if at least some of the ghosts really behaved the way Maddie and Jack think they’re supposed to. If he really is evil by nature, is there any point in fighting his own fate? They want to see him as a villain, he will become one. He will. He just needs a little help and practice. And not bring it to the level when Clockwork has to clean up his mess. Poor guy is without a vacation for how long? Couple of millennia?

Johnny 13: Sup. Danny: F*ck off, Johnny, I’m not in the mood. Busy thinking about world domination. Get out of here or I’ll call Kitty. Johnny 13: What’s wrong? You’re usually so grouchy only towards the end of the week. Danny: Nothing. Just parents. Again. They are wonderful but I can’t help but feel sometimes that they, em… Johnny 13: Suck? Danny: Right…Damn. I’m a terrible son. Maybe something is wrong with me. Johnny 13: What? No, no, dude. You’re just growing up. And you’re a little late, usually teenagers go through that stage before they graduate. Well, you’ve probably been busy with other issues, so just missed it. Danny: I wonder whose fault it is. Aren’t there ghosts who enjoyed to ruin my life in the middle of school day?

Johnny 13: Oh, bother. Anyway, you’re entering a beautiful time of emancipation, where you’re going to shape your own view of life and, along the way, to get drunk on cheap alcohol at parties, maybe to go to jail and to become the greatest disappointment to your family..And then you will be ashamed to remember it for about the next ten years. Danny: Well, it looks like I’ve already done two out of three additional things. Great success. Johnny 13: When did you get drunk? Danny: I didn’t. Johnny 13: Oh. Want to fix that? Danny: What? No. What an idiot wants to add a headache to his problems? Johnny 13: Well, your loss, then I’ll go terrorize the bars of Gotham alone and no one can stop me. Let’s see what your boyfriend will say about it. ~~~~~ Danny: Bartender, another shot of Dead Man’s Fingers, please. Red Hood: Babe, haven’t you had enough? Danny: Have you ever felt that no matter how hard you try, no matter how many sacrifices you make, in their eyes you’ll always be nothing more than a monster? Nothing more than a mistake? Oh, Death doesn’t give people like me a break. Red Hood: …I’ll have what he’s having. *gives the bartender a sign to switch the rum shots to a batburger milkshake for them, and starts talking to Danny so that he doesn’t understand Hood's scams*

~~~~~

Johnny 13: Other people’s kids are growing up so fast. It seems like yesterday he didn’t know how to shoot ectoblast, and now.. Kitty: Stop trying to make me feel bad, we’re leaving. Johnny 13: But the boy needs our support, honey boo!

~~~~~

Danny: I'm fine. Really, I am. This isn’t the first time mom’s called me a monster. She often called me that when she was upset with my behavior in my childhood. Huh, it's even funny. Jason: There’s nothing funny about that. Danny: No, you don’t understand. Looking back, I was really a very active child and didn’t know when to stop. Not surprisingly that I often annoyed my parents. They’re very busy people, and Jazz couldn’t always keep an eye on me. And I was often afraid to go to sleep alone because there were shadows in the darkness of my room. Well, I used to think they were. But I pretended everything was okay to not distract parents from work. Jason: Hey, it’s not your fault. You were a child. Obviously, kiddo requires a lot of attention, they must have understood that. You are the second child in the family, right? Danny: Well, Jazz was different. I don’t know. Anyway, I thought if the monsters behind the curtain and under the bed were just like me, well, according to my mom, you know, then they wouldn’t want to hurt me. And since they look after me, they are friends. So I kinda greeted all the suspicious noises and howls. Huh, I was a strange kid. Jason: If you smile at someone in the dark alley right now that someone is more likely to wet themselves or faint. Danny: Rude! I’m not that scary. Admit that I’m adorable. Do it right now. Jason: Stunning, darling. But still carry a gun and a knife, please. My childhood taught me that what's hiding in the dark is worth beating up. Danny: Come on, what should I be afraid of? Death? Anyway, I want to try this shit. Like, the inevitable one. Being a bad boy, you know? Hood *raises eyebrows*. Danny: Oh damn it man, I'm talking about ghostliness. I want to try to be like most of dead ones. I want to unleash my side of the trickster and the villain. But only a little bit. I have to be supervised so that things don't go too far. Would you help me, honey?

~~~~~2 hours later~~~~

~~~~~

Goons used to expect a lot of weirdness from working with the boss.

Sometimes Bruce Wayne would go into their base and yell at the Red Hood like he's one of his kids. Of course Wayne's well-known as 'Gotta adopt them all' but the guy must really suffer from insomnia to count the Red Hood into his brood of chicks several times. Sometimes the boss would fight Robin or Nightwing over differences in morals…or for biscuits. It varied from moment to moment. Sometimes the boss caught the local street children, fed them and taught them to steal correctly. And most of the foundlings stayed with them under their protection.

To make a long story short, Red Hood is not the typical crime lord that some of them had to deal with before. Which is a blessing. Thanks Lord for the health insurance. But still the crime lord. Which means he's still scary, and sometimes deadly.

Anyway, when the boss brought in a guy who looked more civilian than any civilian in the whole Gotham and said he was going to be their intern, they thought it was a joke at first. Despite the fact that Hood was not in the habit of joking while working.

The teenager was too well-mannered and sweet to come from Crime Alley. Phil thought the guy was gonna run when he saw the first murder, Jessica didn’t think the domestic boy wouldn’t chicken out at the sight of a fight. But arguing with a boss’s orders in their profession is like asking for a bullet in the head, so these conversations were taking place outside of their boss's sight. God, how can they teach him anything? What do you take from a boy who’s only good to do the coffee run? Fenton will fall if they’ll give him something heavier than 10 pounds. And then boss will yell at them because he treats the new guy like a princess on a pea. Well, at least that’s what they thought until the boss decided to give the new guy his own assignments:

~~~~~

Red Hood: So, what have you learned during your internship, my young Padawan? Danny: Well, it looks like I’m gonna suck at being a criminal mastermind. I think I may have to find myself some other profession. Red Hood: Come on, you just need a little more practice. Danny: Thank you but I don’t think that’s fit my obsession that good. Don't misunderstand me, I wanna be like most ghosts. But I was wrong to go to hit that goal only base on human stereotypes about my nature. Red Hood: What a pity. The newbies just learned not to flinch when you walk in. But, to be honest, I'm not gonna miss the adrenaline-boosting roller coaster of you at work. Danny: Oh, and I guess to hold on to the concept of humanity was really stupid too. I clearly no longer fit in and I’m finally ready to accept that. So, hopefully, if you get into trouble, you can rely on my ghostliness and call for help. I am the spirit of many talents and of my word. I can haunt your enemies or walk through the walls of Arkham Asylum. Whatever you need, I’ll be here. Red Hood: I’ll bear that in mind.

[wannabelife]

For Mingyu's day, can you do a scenario where you surprise him wearing a pretty lingerie set, so he unwraps you like a present and you let him have his way with you?

Maybe Mingyu even being a tad bit rough because he can't help but be feral when he sees you wearing the lingerie. 🥲

🥹🥹 oh gosh... to be unwrapped by gyu

it turned out, yn was rougher than mingyu, but he's indeed the feral one, i hope that's ok too... :/

warnings: smut content under the cut MDNI, begging, oral fem receiving, pussydrunk mingyu, fem reader

you run your way to your boyfriend at the door, the moment you've been waiting all day long. he cant skip being trapped in work, not even on his birthday. you missed him, so you decided to make something special for him.

"happy birthday, babe!" you say around his arms, as you hug each others tight.

"thank you, my love! i missed you so much" he says, snuggling his face to your neck as it tickles you making you giggle "why are you smelling so good?" he says, humming at your scent.

"i just took a shower" you lied, not to give that you prepared yourself up to him "i cooked you dinner, you must be hungry" you say, unattaching your bodies as he finally has a good look of you since he stepped home.

you have a tiny silk dress on, that hugs your curves and a bow tugged on top where it covers your breast. he sighs, looking at you as a smirk forms on his lips as he stares you up and down.

"is this new?" he askes and you hum back.

"do you like it?" you twirl yourself to him, and once you face him back, he's cagging you to his arms again "its part of your present" you say.

"is there more? how do i got this lucky?" he says, and you feel your cheeks flushing.

"you have to unwrapped it, the best is always inside the package, isn't it?" you shoot at him, and immediately feel his hands run up your legs.

"is that so?" his soft hands start caressing your sides making its way up inside the silk material "can i open it then?" he says, already pushing the dress up.

"dinner should be first" you say to test his limits, but you're already being cut off

"fuck!" he curses under his breath as a glance of your thong makes its view. you have a set of lingerie on, its black just the way he likes it and does a poor job at covering your cunt, still letting a good view of it "i will just take you" he says, not leaving his eyes from your body as his hands keeps going up with the dress.

you give him a look and he tries to kiss you but you push your face back, challenging him as you smile. he grunts, frustrated, finally pushing your dress off of you. he looks at the complete set now, the lingerie braw almost transparent with just a cover around your nipples. mingyu feels his member tightening on his pants as he takes a good look. he presses you to him, his hands making its way to cup your breast beneath the material. you sigh in surprise, wrapping his wrist on your hand, trying to stop him, but you know you're both gone by now, you're just having fun.

"babe, please" he pouts, pressing harder against you as you feel his cock pressing on your core.

he starts kissing your neck, leaving love bites and sucking the skin that lines with your shoulders. he sneakily opens your braw with his other hand, letting it slide down your arms before getting it back to your nipples, now at the bare skin. he caresses there, making a whimper leaves your lips, arousal starting to collect in-between your legs.

"babe... i said after dinner" you press again.

he pouts, looking back at you "babe, please, let me have you first" he says as an impatient kid asking for candy. you laugh, trying to break from him as he chases you, making your back hit the wall of your apartment. mingyu takes the opportunity to cage you there as he goes for a kiss. your lips finally meet for the first time tonight in a heated kiss. it starts slow, his hands going to your neck as he gently pushes your face closer to his, opening space for his tongue to get inside. the kiss gets sloppy, both of you moaning on each others mouths before it ends with him biting down your lower lip.

his kisses keep going down, until he wrappes your niples on his mouth, sucking the flesh. you moan louder this time, your nails digging to his scalp. he goes for the other side, licking his tongue flat on the other nipple, his teeth grasp around it before he sucks the other one too. you moan his name as he keeps going down.

"does that convince you?" he says before kneeling in front of you, his face right in front of your cunt as he chins rests on your lower belly while he looks up at you with a sulky look, his hands playing with the hem of your thong "please, baby, let me play just a bit, i'll be fast, i promise" he desesparates tries to convice you.

you caress your thumb to his cheeks before playing it with his lips "should i?" you challenge

he grunts again, desesparately gripping your skin "please, please, please" he begs, his cock painfully aching on his pants.

"be good, dont make me regret it" you say, finally letting him have you.

he wastes no time in sliding your pants down. he bites the way down your lower belly and core, pushing one of your legs up to his shoulders, he licks a long stripe of your center, sucking your clit when he finishes his way up. you moan, taking his hair on your hands, your eyes going shut from the straightforward contact.

he keeps going, twirling his tongue around your sensitive spot, your head thrown back from the pleasure. he's rushed and rough with it, like he was waiting for it the whole day, and you feel like your whole body is about to explode.

his hands go behind you as he grabs your ass cheeks, spreading it open to give more space to his mouth as he starts to fuck your entrance with his tongue.

"fuck, it feels so good, gyu" you moan it out and he cant help moaning too. the vibration adding to the sensation as you get closer to the edge.

he takes one of his hands to his pants as he starts to undo it. a wet spot decoring his boxers from how arousal he got eating you out. he frees his member, sighing in relief before unattached his mouth to your cunt to catch his breath.

but he doesn't stop, he adds a finger inside you as you look down to him, both locking eye contact. he fucks you slowly with his fingers as you start to feel the familiar knock forming on your lower belly.

"im so close, babe" you state, sounding unstable

he collects your juices mixed with his saliva at your core with his free hand, wetting his palm before bringing it to pump his cock.

he adds a second finger, getting back to suck your clit nonstop. your chest heavens, and you swear the room starts spinning.

"oh my god mingyu fuck!" you grab his hair harshly for stability as he hums feeling his cock twitching on his hand from the sensation.

its all too much, the wet sounds of him pumping his member dripping with pre cum, the moans he makes with his mouth wrapped around your clit, his fingers fucking you steadily, it all builds up, making your legs press around his head as you're cumming.

he slips his fingers off of you, replacing it with his tongue as he drives your high, drinking every single drop of your cum. he whimpers, his hands working faster on his member. you start whimpering from the overstimulation, but je doesn't stop, feeling his high approaching too.

a few more trusts and his member twitches and he's cumming right after you. his cum seeds spreads on his belly and chest as he takes back to catch a breath, moaning all different praises while he comes down

"you taste so fucking good, fuck, yn, you're so perfect"

you slide yourself down with your back pressed at the wall, now able to be face to face with him. you get closer, letting your head down as you stick your tongue out, cleaning up the cum from his skin. he whimpers and when you look back at him, he has his forehead sweaty and small eye lids, his hair is all over the place and red cheeks, he looks like he could be drunk or high.

"you did such a good job, babe, took me so well" you praise, leaving a peck to his mouth, before getting up to get him a glass of water.

[getitoutofmymindwrites]

Something impulsive | joel miller x f!reader x marcus pike, 7.1k

Summary: The distance between you and Joel grows. You decide to give Marcus a chance. A chance encounter shifts the balance between you and the two men.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, image just for aesthetic purposes, reader does not have a description, angst, slow-burn, insecurities, first date nervousness, flirting, sexual thoughts, kissing, Joel still being a prick, Joel still being an idiot (bear with him) dog piss (bear with me, too), as always let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: And here I was, thinking that this time I'll keep it short. Who am I kidding. Thank you for taking the time to read anything I write! Love you all!

P.S.: Credits for the final scene go to @jessthebaker and this hilarious comment that I just had to include in the chapter:

Dividers by @cafekitsune & @thecutestgrotto

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

previous |

Radio silence.

That is what you would call it.

After your last encounter, you haven't seen or heard from Joel for two long weeks. No text, no phone call, nothing. Were you entering the winter phase again? Most likely.

You regretted the way you had challenged him that night. It wasn't really your style, but that's what happens when you bottle things up. Especially things like desire and longing. Eventually, they erupt like a fucking volcano after a long hibernation. Brutally. And yet you haven't got an ounce or a reaction. Something. Anything at all.

You were terrified that your friendship had been broken. You could have texted him. You should have. You felt it was all your fault anyway. You should have apologized. But you were angry. And selfish. And deep down you blamed him for your reaction, for making you feel helpless, a pawn in his hands.

But was that the case? And can you really blame anyone for your own actions? You were responsible for the way you reacted. You could have done things differently. You knew that. But you did not want to admit that to him.

Whether you were angry or not, you missed him all the same. You missed his presence, his voice, his scent. You missed the sound of his name on your tongue. The warmth of his irises and the softness in his eyes when he looked at you. And boy, did he look at you.

He may not have been a man of many words, but sometimes, just sometimes, his gaze spoke louder than any voice in the room. That's how you got into this mess in the first place.

One evening, on your day off, you hang out with Trish at your place. You needed the company, being alone with your thoughts for too long wasn't a good idea. The two of you sit on the sofa, drinking beer and eating pizza straight out of the box. You had already put your girls to bed and this was your happy hour.

"Are you dating Marcus you little weasel?"

"Where did that come from?", your eyes widen in surprise.

"Joel asked me the other day.", Trish reveals, laughing under her breath.

"WHAT?" you squeal in disbelief. Joel was not the type to ask about other people's private matters. Especially yours and especially to his cousin. "OK, please, elaborate."

"He asked me if you’re seeing him.", she continues.

"When did this happen?", you try to draw an imaginary map in your mind, gathering all the information available to you to understand what might be going through his mind.

"A few days ago, maybe?" she says nonchalantly.

"He asked that explicitly? Those were the exact words he used?", you insist like a hound dog looking for clues.

"Of course not." Trish rolls her eyes, "He danced around it for a while, but I pretended I didn't know what he was talking about -which I obviously don't- and then I made him ask directly."

"Oh god, give the poor man a break!", you exclaim, you could only imagine what a menace could she be when she wanted to.

"Well, are you?"

"No, I’m not. But if he asks again tell him I am."

"Why?", she frowns but looks amused at the same time. Oh, she's up to something.

"So he will leave me alone." Well he already kind of did, but maybe it was for the best to cut the ties once and for all.

"What do you mean? Is he bothering you?" Trish insists, curiosity sparkling in her eyes.

"No- he's- it's not- uh-" where would you even start, it's all a fucking mess, anyway. "Forget I said anything-" you try to end the conversation, but-

"I might have kind of implied that, though?" Trish wrinkles her nose, trying to minimize the damage.

"WHAT?"

"Only because he looked desperate" she rushes to explain, "and honestly you two should really fuck each other. So I thought maybe I could spice things up a bit."

A minute or two passes before you answer her. All this information bombarding your mind left a paralyzing feeling in your mouth. He looked desperate? Why the fuck? Was this the classic 'I want what I can't have'? He wasn't that type. And he could have his way with you if he wanted to. Couldn't he? Did he get the feeling that you weren't interested? What more could you have done, he was the one who went cold and hot all the time. "It's not like that." is all you say.

"The hell it isn't." Trish quips, almost offended.

"We don't want the same things Trish, and I won't make the same mistakes again." you draw the line. "What did he say?", you ask without shame, because you just have to know, even if it hurts you.

"Oh, you know, he put on his usual 'Joel grumpy face' and walked out on me. But honestly, what did you expect?" she shrugs and continues, "So, if 'it's not like that'", she air-quotes you mockingly, "why don't you give Marcus a real chance? He's a good guy and I don't often say that," Trish points her finger at you.

"I'm sure he is Trish, but I can't."

"And why is that?"

"Because it's not honest."

"To whom?"

"To him."

"And..?" she presses you.

You close your eyes, because you really don't want to say it and it feels frustrating but comforting at the same time to have a friend who knows you so well. "And to my heart.", you mumble coyly.

"Oh, baby c'mere. You really like my stupid cousin, don't you?" Trish wraps her arms around your shoulders, squeezing you into a tight hug.

"No, I do not." It's more than that. "And don't push it any further, it's not happening.", it's your turn to point the finger at her.

"Ok.", she sighs troubled. "Ok, look at me and listen carefully.", she makes a serious face, holding your hands in hers as she begins. "Joel's my cousin and he is a good man and I love him, but he has his own issues to deal with-"

"What do you mean?" You interrupt her curiously. You never thought to ask about his past before, it seemed invasive.

"It’s not my place." she cuts you off with a guarded look that seems so foreign on her face and continues, "The point is, you cannot wait for him forever."

"I'm not-" you start to deny it, but Trish grabs your face in her palms, squeezing you gently to make her point and you stop mid-sentence.

"You deserve to be happy. And you can't miss something you've never had." her eyes bore into yours, full of care and concern.

Her last words strike you like a slap on the face.

Oh, but you can. You already are.

Another two weeks have passed and you still haven't heard from Joel. He's stuck in your head like a virus, unable to think of anything else. This is the longest you've gone without talking. It's taking its toll on you, making you fidgety and jumpy, irritated by the simplest things. You've reached your breaking point and you're ready to call him, just to see if he's OK.

And, if you're honest with yourself, to give him a chance to make a move. He might think you don't want him to reach out. That thought makes you even more angry, you sound so pathetic in your head, begging for a man's attention. A man who has never made his intentions clear. You should stand up for yourself, hold your own.

You're at the office, shuffling through your bag, looking for your phone, still debating whether to call him. As you reach deep into your bag, searching through the million things you stuff in there, you feel a hard, papery thing on your fingertips. You fish it out and see that it's Marcus' card. You don't even remember putting that thing in there. But you remember him giving it to you.

He was such a gentleman and so thoughtful that night. He didn't ask for your number and he didn't press to put his on your phone. He gave you his card, clearly stating that he hoped you would get in touch with him.

"..why don't you give Marcus a real chance?.."

You take a deep breath and unlock your phone.

"..You cannot wait for him forever.."

This is it.

"..You deserve to be happy.."

You're going to call him. Right now? Yes, right now.

He picks up after the third ring.

"Agent Pike.", his voice deep and smooth, runs like honey in your ears. You remember how much you liked the sound of it.

You’re taken aback for a moment, you'd almost forgotten what he did for a living. It was strange but interesting to hear him like that, it stirred something in you. "Uh- um-" you lose your train of thought for a second, "hi- I don't know if you rememb-"

Marcus says your name instantly, the surprise evident in his tone. "I was beginning to think you'd either lost my card or I'd made a terrible, terrible first impression on you," he says with a soft laugh, vulnerability coloring his voice.

"No, no, god- no, nothing like that.. It was really nice to meet you!" you reassure him, because it really was.

"Yeah, you too.." Marcus replies and you can hear the smile in his voice. He doesn't say anything else, giving you time to collect yourself.

"I just-" you squeeze your eyes shut, trying not to freak out, pinching the bridge of your nose with your fingers, you hadn't planned this, "I've been really busy, with work and the kids, I haven't had a chance to..." the words catch in your throat as you think of the real reason you've been busy.

Obsessing over unavailable men.

But you don't want to lie to Marcus, he's been so kind and open, so you pause, looking for a way out of the hole you've dug yourself into.

"Hey, it's OK," Marcus takes the lead, sensing your discomfort, "you didn't have to call, but I'm really glad you did. I thought about getting your details from Trish in case you lost my number, but then I didn't want to force you into anything in case you didn't lose my number, you know?" he laughs timidly.

"Yeah, I know; that is so thoughtful of you. I'm- I'm glad I called." It feels strange to admit something like that, something so small, to be honest, to be so open and talk about positive things, to make someone feel good with your words on a personal level. You've spent the last few years just doing it for your daughters, loving them, hyping them up, rooting for them, but it's a change that you welcome and you discover that you really, really missed it.

There's a short silence on the other end, which makes you feel anxious, so you decide not to bother him any more. "I'm sorry I called during office hours, I-"

"No, no, no, don't even think about it, there are no office hours at my line of work anyway, so.." Marcus rushes to put you at ease. "I was just wondering if I should ask you out or if I'm jumping the gun," he blurts out and you can feel his hesitation through the phone.

"Well," you try to lighten the mood, "you're the one asking questions for a living, so why don't you earn your keep?" you bite your lower lip in anticipation and then snicker to yourself. You hear Marcus laughing, amused and impressed by your little stunt, and you have a deep desire to hear it again, knowing that it's your doing.

Marcus is not one to shy away from a challenge, so he delivers quite brilliantly. "It would give me great pleasure if you would go out with me," he says your name softly at the end, "I know it can be tricky with the girls and work and all that, but I'm sure we could work something out; my office hours are very flexible," he informs you, cleverly covering all your possible obstacles.

"I thought you didn't have office hours..." you return playfully, feeling lighter already, the thought of Joel still lingering, but the pain of it fading in your heart.

"For you I do." Marcus deadpans with an amazing ability to not make it sound cheesy. And you know exactly what kind of ability it is.

The one of honesty.

Your heart is in your mouth. You're sure of it. You can taste your heartbeat on the tip of your tongue. As much as you've tried to play it down, you're nervous, your stomach is in knots. You spend most of the evening whining to Trish on the phone, freaking out about what to wear and ending up with a "What does it matter anyway? It's one date and that's it, he's not sticking around. Yeah, he's not. I'm good, I'm fine, this is fine." you shrug as you look at yourself in your bedroom mirror.

Trish's voice brings you back to reality, "None of that, everything's going to be fine, you're going to have a good time and you're going to keep having a good time." You looked sideways at the phone as if Trish could see you through it, glancing at the time. "Ok Trish, thanks for the pep talk, but I have to go or I'll be late."

"Sure thing babe, have a great night-"

"Thanks Trish-" you speak over her voice sure she's done with the pleasantries, but-

"-and don't forget to fuck 'im."

The line goes dead before you can reply.

Jesus Christ.

"You got this. You got this. You got this," you chant to yourself, pacing the living room, checking the time on your phone every thirty seconds. "Yeah," you exhale with nervous conviction, "you got this." The doorbell rings and your stomach clenches. Conviction my ass, "No, you don't." you mutter before rushing to answer the door.

Your heels click on the wooden floor and you pin the hem of your dress down once more, just to be sure. It wasn't terribly short, but still, you haven't dressed for a date in God knows how long.

You open the door and your breath catches in your throat. But you could say the same about Marcus. You look at one another for a moment, both admiring each other. He looks sharp, clean-shaven, with a prominent jawline that makes you want to suck on it from side to side.

His hair is combed back and slightly to the side. He looks so handsome and then he smiles at you. A real smile, big and toothy and bright and beautiful. His eyes crinkle and his plush lips stretch with the force of it. His suit is elegant and clean, neatly pressed, and the two top buttons of his shirt are undone, showing a hint of his tanned chest, making it more casual.

"Hey.." Marcus speaks first, pulling himself out of his haze. His eyes drink you in, unable to land on one spot, admiring your simple but elegant black dress that stops mid-thigh, the softness of your exposed skin, the curves of your body and the features of your face.

"Hi..." you say back shyly, noticing his admiration.

"I- Christ-", he stutters almost confused.

"What's wrong?" you fidget with the fabric of your dress, your nerves getting the better of you once again.

"I almost forgot how beautiful you are-" Marcus admits, his eyebrows raised, a hint of pink spreading across his cheeks. "-you look amazing," he compliments, raising his arm and pointing his open palm in your direction.

You pray that you can fast-forward to the actual date and stay right here on the threshold of your house at the same time. "Oh, thank you -" you reply quietly, with a shy smile on your lips.

"These-" Marcus raises his other hand, suddenly remembering what he's holding, "these are for you," he hands you a beautiful bunch of flowers, obviously made specifically for you by a florist, wrapped in a beautiful ribbon. What is it about this man that turns the most clichéd things into thoughtful actions?

"These are so beautiful, thank you, let me-" you point towards the house so you can put them in a vase, signaling him to come in with your head.

"Hope it's not too much..", Marcus wonders as he enters the hall of the house.

"It's perfect," you smile warmly as you return from the kitchen with the filled vase and place it on the entryway furniture, admiring the arrangement. You place the palm of your hand on his bicep, reassuring him as you turn to leave.

His eyes shine with appreciation as he takes your palm in his warm hand, planting a soft kiss on the pulse point of your wrist. His scent fills your nostrils, sweet and masculine, and you can almost smell his shampoo as he leans forward. Your lips part and your eyes widen at the intimate contact, but instead of feeling pressured, all you want is for him to do it again on any part of your skin he likes. His plush lips are warm and soft, leaving the slightest trace of moisture as they part your skin, sending a wave of shivers through your body.

You stifle a gasp but you can't hide the dilation of your irises and he can't hide the hunger behind his. He cups your cheek in his hand, stroking your cheekbone with his thumb. "Ready?" he asks in a hushed tone.

"As I'll ever be."

The drive is bathed in bits of small talk and comfortable silence, appreciating each other's presence without having to fill the quiet of the cabin every second. Marcus' gaze is split between the road ahead and you at his side. He drives with one hand, his right resting comfortably on the gearbox.

God, you're such a cliché, noticing the way his broad palm rests there, the veins bulging between his fingers and on his hand and it makes you squirm in your seat. Your date hasn't even started yet and you're already feeling uncomfortable in your underwear. Are you that needy? Or is it him? Is he doing this to you?

Joel.

No, stop. Don’t think about him. Not right now. Stop.

Joel.

No.

Joel.

NO.

You don't realize you're holding your breath until Marcus is asking if you're all right.

"What?" you snap out of your haze, jerking your head to look at him. He looks worried, his forehead forming a deep crease between his eyebrows. "I lost you there for a minute, what happened?"

"Nothing, nothing, I'm fine."

"You don't gotta do that, you know."

"Do what?"

"Say you're fine. You're allowed not to be."

You start to contradict him, but then you realize he's right.

"You're right," you admit, looking at him sheepishly. "I'm just nervous- and it's not your fault-" you hasten to explain, "I just haven't done this in so long that it feels like it's happening to someone else, like I'm watching myself from a distance."

He smiles at you knowingly and you add frustratedly, "That's so uncool, I'm sorry, I should be-"

"Moment of truth?" Marcus cuts you off before you can finish your thought.

"Um- OK?"

"I'm already hooked." he bites his lip, stealing a glance in your direction, his shoulders shrugging as if he had just told you the most natural thing in the world.

"Excuse m-" you look at him in bewilderment.

"I know I should play hard to get and do all the stuff everyone does on a first date, act cool and whatnot," he gestures in the air with his free hand, "but really? I'm hooked. Captivated. So-" he takes a deep breath, exhaling forcefully, "if anyone should be anything, it's me, scared that I'm going to screw this up, somehow. But you know what?" he looks at you expectantly, waiting for a response.

"What?" you manage to croak, your whole body buzzing with anticipation.

"I'm going to choose to enjoy this night by being myself-" he stops and scrunches his eyes in thought, "-well, ok, I'm going to hold back a bit," he jokes playfully, making you both laugh at that, relieving some of the tension and he takes your hand in his, squeezing it gently, "because I don't know if I'll get another chance. I can only hope that at the end of the night you'll choose to see me again."

He brings your intertwined hands to his lips and kisses your knuckles tenderly. He's said all the right things, everything you want to hear and dear God, he makes you want to climb him like a tree. You bite your lower lip so hard you're afraid you'll draw blood.

He studies your face and your fluttered expression for a moment, a smile of accomplishment painted on his perfect mouth, before he adds, "And you shouldn't be anything other than what you want to be. Neither of us should."

The date was not what you expected, because it was actually a success. Zero awkwardness, lots to talk about, mutual humor and gentle glances. You started with dinner in a not-too-casual-not-too-formal restaurant and ended up in a great bar, lively but not too loud, where you had delicious cocktails over and over again. Not Marcus though, because he was driving. So responsible, you wanted to sink your teeth into his neck.

Marcus was truly interested in you. He asked you about everything, he really wanted to know about your life. You didn't delve much into the divorce and he didn't push it. But you told him more about your background, your work, your daughters, the challenges of being a single mother and to your surprise, he listened. Actively. When you told him it was his turn to spill the beans, he told you about his job and his specialty; his move to Texas for a fresh start and when you asked him why he felt he needed one, he reluctantly told you about proposing to his girlfriend of two months.

"I know, I know-" he raises his hand in defence as he shakes his head in disbelief, "I don't know what the hell I was thinking, I guess-" he looks down at his empty glass as if searching for answers, "sometimes I have a hard time letting things go."

He dares to meet your eyes through his lashes, to study your reaction. But your expression is neutral, no judgment on your part. "But I'm working on it, letting things happen naturally, you know? If it's meant to be, it's meant to be." he shrugs casually.

"That must be hard for you to deal with." you observe.

"Why would you think that?" he seems curious to know what you think of him, smiling crookedly.

"You strike me as someone who really tries to work things out, to fix what's broken. You don't give up easily, do you?"

His eyes bore into yours as he confirms, "No, I don't," smirking at you. You break eye contact and look down at your lap, biting back a smile of your own.

Suddenly you hear your name being called and you scan the room to find the source. You see Tommy just a few meters away, coming towards you to say hello. Marcus looks between the two of you, his eyes finally landing on yours, catching your faltering smile. "Hey, Tommy, how are you?" you hug him gently and then introduce the two men.

"Hi, nice to meet you." Tommy holds out his hand as Marcus extends his own, "You too."

"Who's the lucky girl this time, Tommy?" you tease with a devilish grin as you wink at him.

"The lucky girl is actually my brother." Tommy laughs breathlessly and your face immediately falls as he points his thumb behind him.

Joel is there at the other end of the bar, sitting on a table, his gaze fixed on you, his whole posture stiff, his jaw clenched and his eyes hard on you. You raise your arm weakly and wave at him, and he nods back sternly.

Marcus misses absolutely none of this.

How long had they been there? How much did he see? Did you do anything inappropriate? you keep checking yourself for any flawed behavior. But then you realize that you don't have to answer to him or anyone else. You can do as you please. So why do you keep hoping you haven't let him down?

"You wanna join us? There's plenty of room, come on.", Tommy invites you to their table.

You feel your legs give out just at the thought of this gathering and you try to decline politely, "We wouldn't want to impose, it's OK-"

Tommy gives you a confused look, as if you haven't spent the best part of the last two years hanging out together. "What the hell are you talking about, love? Come on, move that ass of yours." he waves his head in their direction. You glance swiftly from Tommy to Marcus and then back to Tommy, hoping he'll get the message, but he doesn't. Damn it, Tommy.

Marcus notices your apprehension and puts the palm of his hand on your forearm, caressing your skin with his thumb.

"Are you OK? Do you want to go instead?" he says in a quiet voice, just for you to hear.

You almost jump at his suggestion, "No, no, I just don't want you to think I'm not having a good time with you…" you lower your eyes, feeling vulnerable.

"Hey, hey, look at me." Marcus lowers his head to meet your gaze, "I think I'd know if this date was going south. But if for some reason it is and I'm too smitten to see it, I'm all ears." Marcus searches your eyes and you shake your head with conviction.

"It's not," is all you say, and you lean forward to place a kiss on his cheek, on the side of his face that is hidden from Joel's inspection. As if that would make what you just did any less obvious. Marcus' lips part, and he turns his head sideways to look at your profile, almost brushing it with his own.

His eyes linger on your mouth as you lean back to your seat, and then he licks his lower lip like a starving man preparing for his favorite meal. "Let's go meet your friends before I do something impulsive," he whispers in your ear, his grip on your arm tightening, his nose pressing against your temple and his lips brushing your earlobe.

Goosebumps spread across your skin and you have half a mind to get the fuck out of here and drag him back to your house. But instead you giggle like a schoolgirl and lead the way to hell, feeling the warmth of his hand on your lower back and the moisture of your pussy running down your thigh.

If a person could combust out of stillness, it would be Joel. You're not even sure he's breathing at this point. You train your eyes on his chest, trying to follow the rise and fall of his rib-cage, just to make sure he doesn't faint.

He's sitting directly opposite you, next to his brother, who's sitting opposite Marcus. He's nursing a beer with one hand, the other behind Tommy's seat. He barely speaks to you, he avoids looking at you and that makes you feel like you’re doing something wrong and he's giving you the cold shoulder. It takes everything you've got to swallow the lump in your throat and the tears behind your eyes, but you do it.

The same waitress who took your previous orders comes back and asks what you and Marcus are having. You order a beer, and before Marcus can place his own, Joel spits, "If you're driving her back, you shouldn't be drinking," giving him a disapproving look.

Your cheeks flush with embarrassment, your eyes dart from the waitress to Joel and then to Marcus, ready to apologize on his behalf. You knew Joel could be abrasive, but never so blatantly rude. Those were the first words he said to him.

Jesus, what is his problem?

Marcus seems to be able to handle his own, answering to you instead of Joel without missing a beat. "Good to know you have such protective friends," he says with a twinkle in his eye and then he orders, "I'll have the same as before, thank you.", shifting his gaze to the waitress. "One soda with a slice of orange coming up," she says politely and leaves to get your drinks.

You glare at Joel, but he doesn't seem to be paying attention, although he flinched almost imperceptibly when he heard Marcus' choice of drink. Marcus gives you a gentle kiss on the temple and you begin to suspect that he knows exactly what's going on between you and Joel, whose jaw is twitching at the sight of Marcus' public display of affection towards you.

You envy Tommy at the moment because he seems blissfully unaware, so you turn the conversation to him. Or at least you try, because as soon as you open your mouth to speak, Joel cuts you off and asks Marcus what he does for a living.

You can't help but think that after your first meeting in that god’s forsaken bar, it took him months to strike up a conversation with you, but tonight, for some reason, he just can't seem to shut up.

Marcus, being as polite as ever, gives him the general answer that he works for the government.

"Ah, a white collar," Joel replies condescendingly and your eyes bulge out of their sockets, "must be nice, relaxed." still not looking at you and God does he tick you off. Tommy shifts uncomfortably in his seat, stealing glances at you, not sure what's going on. In any other case you would have found it endearing. Not so much now.

You too are squirming in your seat, trying to think of a way out of this awkward situation. This is not how you imagined your first date would end. And it's certainly not how you expected to meet Joel after all these weeks.

Marcus seems unfazed by the veiled hostility coming his way, smiling back at Joel, almost enjoying the antagonism. "Not necessarily, but I can't talk about it either." This catches Joel's attention and he looks at you questioningly for the first time. You tilt your head slightly to the side, signaling what are you doing? but Joel takes his eyes off you, sipping his beer nonchalantly.

"What about you? What do you do for a living?" Marcus returns the question.

"We're contractors, me and Joel; we're brothers," he gestures between himself and Joel, "and we work together." Tommy chimes in quickly, having reached his limit of awkwardness at the table. You breathe a sigh of relief, but it's not long lived.

"And how do you all know each other?" is the next natural question to come out of Marcus' mouth.

Joel's eyes land on you briefly, something flashes past them and before you can stop him-

"She and I actually met in a bar..." Joel smirks at Marcus, but you speak at the same time-

"Joel-" Your voice is firm as a warning, fully accepting that your tone might be alarming to your unsuspecting company.

"What?" Tommy's voice falters, laughing uncomfortably, completely at a loss. Marcus reads the table, his eyes darting between the three of you, at the same time placing a protective hand over your shoulder, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb.

"What?" Joel repeats in a different tenor to his brother and he shrugs, smiling, "It's no big deal, tell them," he has the audacity to put you on the spot, nodding his chin at you.

You feel the contents of your stomach move up your esophagus, cold sweat coats your skin in a thin layer. Betrayal. That's all you can think of. "Uh-", you try to find the words, but nothing comes out, betrayal, you're not good at it, lying doesn't come easy to you, betrayal, especially with three sets of eyes on you. Joel just sits there with a smug look on his face and you wish you had the guts to slap it out of him.

Betrayal.

Marcus' voice brings you back to the present, are you all right?, a soft whisper caresses your ear and soothes your insides. The bile in your throat begins to return to its rightful place, but your eyes are already moist, your waterline glassy, a look of defeat and disappointment painted on your soft face. Joel sees it all written on those contours of yours that he has come to know and marvel at from afar, and it is as if a sudden realization hits him, snapping him out of his asshole behavior. He is cruel to you.

"All right, all right," he rolls his eyes and continues with a sigh, and Tommy's eyes return to his brother, but Marcus' remains fixed on you. "We met in a bar and we had a heated..." he stops abruptly and your face takes on a look of horror as he searches for the right word. "...argument." Joel finally adds. "We exchanged a few words, but then we ran into each other at my cousin's house and the rest is history." he laughs as he waves his hand in the air and winks at you.

You bite your lower lip as hard as you can to keep your chin from trembling, but a single tear of relief or suppressed anger, you're not sure anymore, escapes from the side of your face that only Joel can see, as you give him a forced, watery smile.

Luckily the bar is dimly lit, otherwise they would all be able to see the redness spreading across your chest, the rage manifesting itself on your body. Used and played is how you feel, and Joel is the last person you would have thought would put you in this position. You'd bet all your money on it.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Tommy wonders aloud, looking between you and Joel. You clear your throat and have no choice but to confirm Joel's lie. "It felt awkward at the time, so we pretended we didn't know each other. It was an unfortunate moment, one I deeply regret," you lock eyes with Joel and see his facade almost crumbling, "that will never recur, ever again." you continue to stare at him as you speak the last words with concealed bitterness. For the first time that night, he looked down at his lap in shame and regret, pretending to peel the label off his bottle with his thumb.

The ride home was silent, you were emotionally drained, something Marcus picked up on easily, so he simply offered his open palm, which you gladly accepted, tucking your fingers between his own. He continued to caress your skin, back and forth, and it was all you needed to calm your nerves.

As he walked you to the front door of your house, you felt compelled to apologize to him in a profound way. "I'm so sorry about Joel," you shake your head, looking down at your feet, your fingers scratching your forehead, a worried look on your face, "he can be intense sometimes -" why are you defending him?

Marcus lifts your chin with a gentle finger under it, his thumb caressing your jawline. "I don't care about Joel." With one simple sentence, he has erased him from your conversation. No more room for him to steal any longer of your night with Marcus.

“But-”

“I'm the one standing on your porch right now am I not?”, the implication clear in his voice and words.

“I'm not sure what-” you try to avoid confirming or denying his assumptions.

"Mhm," he smiles knowingly, his eyes fixed on yours, searching for something. You feel safe with him, but you can't shake the feeling that you've ruined everything. Marcus' eyes drop to your lips and he slowly leans forward, stopping just inches from you, waiting for you to initiate. You can feel yourself unable to relax, your body stiff, frozen. But you want to, you really do, so you ask instead, "Are you going to do something impulsive now?"

He smiles and leans even closer to your lips, his breath gently fanning across your plump skin. His nose gently nudges yours, "Yes, I think I might."

Your lips almost touch when a muffled voice followed by loud barks startles you both, causing you to pull away and look around for the source of the disruption. After a few seconds, you both see a medium-sized dog running down the street. You wait to see if its owner follows, but no one appears. You turn to look at each other, giggling at the strange interruption.

Marcus caresses your cheek with the back of his knuckles and you lean into his touch, the moment gone and lost. "I hope you had a decent time because I know I had a great one and I really hope I get to see you again."

"Marcus," you scowl at him, "are you fishing for compliments?" you chastise him teasingly.

"Well, a man can dream," he smirks playfully as he tries to get some distance between you in case he comes on too strong.

"You don't have to," you coo, grabbing his collar to crush your lips against his.

After the initial shock, Marcus holds your head in his hands, tilting it to return the kiss and deepen it. His soft lips massage yours, sucking and nibbling at your lower lip. His upper lip and tongue capture yours, tugging gently, sending waves of pleasure through your body. He licks into your mouth, exploring every soft cavity, and you suck on his tongue in return.

He grunts into your welcoming cavern and you fist the fabric of his shirt that adorns his chest tighter. He presses his body into yours, trying to keep his pelvic area from pressing into your lower abdomen, but you can feel his growing erection inescapably.

You come up for air and murmur into his mouth, "I had a great time and I'd like to do it again".

This time it is he who presses his mouth to yours, kissing you fervently, sucking all the air out of your lungs. Your body is on fire, your abdomen tingling with desire.

You whimper against his lips as you reach for the short curls at the back of his neck, tugging them gently between your fingers, causing him to growl against your wet flesh, and he can feel your nipples poking at his chest through the thin material of your dress as you press your torso against his in sheer determination.

He's sure he's going to lose it and fuck you in front of your house for all your neighbors to see if he doesn't stop now. He breaks the kiss, panting, his eyes boring into yours, your foreheads touching. "Christ, woman," he closes his eyes and laughs to himself, "you're going to give me a heart attack."

"Better me than old age, right?" you try to hide your teasing smile behind your tightly pressed lips.

"Hey, I'm about to arrest you for threatening a government official," he warns without any conviction or authority.

"Are you going to handcuff me, Agent?" you ask, looking at him through your lashes and it comes out more breathless than it should.

"Jesus." Marcus mutters through his teeth, his resolve hanging by a thread. "OK." he gives you a sharp look, "I'm going to leave for the sake of both of us," he says, but his grip on your hip tightens, as if he's afraid you'll disappear.

"You could come in, you know," you offer, looking at him sheepishly.

His expression is pained when he has to turn you down. "And I'd like nothing more, but I want to do this right. Please, let me do this right." Marcus pleads softly, rolling his forehead over yours in desperation.

"What does that even mean?" you ask, a bit embarrassed by his rejection.

"Means I want to wine and dine you, spoil you, give you the perfect date," he coos into the soft skin beneath your ear, making you shudder at his soft promise. "And when you think you can't go another second without my touch, then I'll come in and spoil you some more," he continues, brushing his moist lips along the pillar of your neck. "I will spoil you in all the ways you deserve." he finishes, planting an open-mouthed kiss on your pulse point under your jaw. Your knees buck and your pussy contracts, squeezing out your sweetness at the feel of his warm and wet tongue.

"OK," you breathe out in a shaky voice, nodding dumbly, cupping his face in your hands and planting a small kiss on the tip of his nose.

He smiles and presses his lips to your forehead murmuring "God, you're something," and his heart swells at your tender gesture.

Marcus takes a deep breath, pauses and seems hesitant, but speaks his mind anyway. "OK, I'm going to skip the whole 'three day rule' and call you tomorrow. Is that OK?" he looks anxiously into your eyes, "Am I rushing you?"

A spontaneous laugh escapes your lips at the sound of that. "I just invited you into my house, you think a phone call is going to rush me?" you frown, "You can call me whenever you want.", you say matter of factly. You turn to leave, but change your mind and face him again. "Actually," you bite your lip mischievously, "I need to make sure I can rely on the American authorities, so I'm counting on your word. I'll be expecting a call by tomorrow," you stifle a grin by pressing your lips together.

"Yes, ma'am." Marcus nods in amusement and gives you one last kiss, pressing his lips to yours for as long as he can before ushering you into the house. "Good night," he breathes against your lips.

"Good night," you whisper back with a shy smile and close the door behind you. Marcus walks to his car with a stupid grin plastered on his face, gets in and drives away, but not before making sure you have closed and locked your front door.

In the stillness of the night, Joel takes a moment to assess the situation and satisfied that the coast is clear, he carefully emerges from the large bush he was hiding behind.

He glances down at his dog pissed shoe and mutters to himself,

"Fuck."

previous |

[cherryheairt]

Maybe down the line, a little special snowflake Stark-Targ is born that rides a dragon and tamed a direwolf 👀 wink wink

I believe that this child must have heterochromia, having one grey eye and one violet eye as a symbol of the duality that lives in him/her.

If Daenys does decide that she wants children, Cregan would not leave her alone ever again. Their two-week long honeymoon is spent solely in his chambers, while they take no duties the entire time.

I already want to see Cregan falling in love with the princess, that giant man (to me that man is taller than anyone) would turn into a teddy bear for his wife.

They would def be the parents surrounded by irish twin siblings, perhaps even blessed with twins or triplets.

For God's sake, give the woman a break! 🤣 A pregnancy where you have one baby is already risky, now add to that having triplets and more in Asoiaf's world in the Targaryen family whose women have a long history of miscarriages, stillbirths, infant deaths and death in childbirth. If you want her to have multiple babies give her a set of twins and that's it 🤣🤣

I also think, after having kids and growing up to be more sure of herself, Daenys would be even more protective and outspoken when it comes to her children.

I think this would be wonderful as it would show a clear, realistic and consistent evolution of the character. Just as Cregan is softened by being close to Daenys' influence, she would become assertive and strong due to his influence.

Since becoming the Lady of the North would make Daenys unable to delegate tasks because of her shyness (although she seems more like an autistic person to me, as I am one myself and see many of the characteristics I have in her, but I assume nothing). She will have to toughen her temper to overcome obstacles to make her voice heard so that her opinions are taken into consideration and her orders obeyed.

More so as a mother because her babies depend on her and Cregan to protect them. Daenys would become a full dragon to defend her husband and children.

She will not sit and watch her kids be bullied like Rhaenyra did (she loves her mom, but admits that she could've done more).

I believe that if Rhaenyra had not been so negligent in protecting her children from rumors of bastardy, Daenys would not be so pathologically shy. Her shyness could be due to a very deep trauma from the many years of bullying she was subjected to by Alicent and Aegon while living in the Red Keep. When they call you a whore and accuse your children of being illegitimate bastards that you (the mother) say they are not, being the crown princess, logic dictates that you ask for a formal investigation to see who is defaming you and press charges against that person. You should not run elsewhere, that only adds to the rumors and subtly gives reason to the gossip. For nothing the wise old men say that a person who owes nothing, has nothing to fear.

"to me that man is taller than anyone" YOU GET ME. I know tom taylor is average height, around 5'8-5'9, but in my mind the Stark genes are soo tall and broad I gotta change it up a little bit 🤭

she takes after her mama, always wanting more kids from her handsome lovers 🙂‍↔️

in chap five, her character evolution is finally starting, now that she is away from society and its pressure. the things i have planned for her, poor girl

I did indeed give her traits like that, but I do not officially put labels on her due to not being fully educated on that topic and never writing of it before. So glad you made it out tho!

the last statement is so true, I feel like Rhaenyra did all of the Strongs dirty with not defending them clearly enough. She never complained to Viserys when he was still in good health, letting Alicent walk all over her even though Alicent was only Queen Regent and she was heir. If Rhaenyra stopped Aegon instead of just asking Harwin to look out for her, Daenys would have stayed the outgoing and extraverted girl she once was. I think Rhaenyra deeply regrets her mistakes that she made when she was younger, having Daenys when she was 19 and dealing with her own internal struggles. Sending her to the north, a less courtly place, seemed like a healthy option for her daughter (matchmaker Rhaenyra over here).

love hearing your opinions, I get so many ideas from awesome feedback like yours

[apomaro-mellow]

3 though idk how much it will help but I love drama😅

oh my god you instigator LOL I also tacked on @goodolefashionedloverboi's request too

First part

He should've known that telling Eddie to shut the hell up would yield the opposite result. The phone calls were so constant, that Steve stopped picking up. When he saw him coming down the sidewalk, he walked the other way. Eddie had even started to try and send messages via the kids and wasn't that pathetic?

What was more pathetic was how hard it was for Steve to do all of this. He wanted more than anything to hear Eddie out, to find out that maybe his feelings were real all along. But there was no such chance.

There was a panicked moment when Eddie came to his work and he saw him talking to Robin outside. But Robin, steadfast and loyal and just as bitchy as him, told him to step off.

"I knew there was a reason I kept you around", Steve said he pushed a mail cart around.

Robin dug her hand in and handed it off to the white collars of Hawkins in the office building they worked at now. "I felt like a bouncer at a club."

Steve thought he was doing a good job on the break up mend. He hadn't spoken to Eddie in days, he hadn't rebounded on some poor soul, and he only cried late at night when he was all alone with his thoughts.

The moment he thought he was up though, was of course, when the universe brought him back down. He knew Dustin's house was a danger zone, what with the odds of Eddie being there. But Dustin had invoked a Code Red on the walkie and Steve came barreling down the road, nail bat at the ready.

Once again, Dustin pointed him in the direction of his cellar. Steve vividly remembered what Dustin had been keeping down here before. He went down the stairs, heard a familiar voice cry out "No! Wait!" before the door shut above him.

Steve held his bat defensively. He was down here with someone. He was about to swing when a lightbulb turned on and he was face to face with Eddie. Honestly, Eddie might've been safer from his bat if he was a stray demodog.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"I don't know", Eddie held his hands up in surrender. "But if I had to guess...I think Henderson wants us to talk."

"Did you put him up to this?!"

"Eddie didn't put me up to anything!", Dustin shouted from above. "You two need to get your shit together. I'll be back in an hour. Don't have make up sex in my cellar."

Steve tried opening it up but they were sealed shut until Dustin, or perhaps Mrs. Henderson let them out.

"The nerve of that kid", Eddie huffed.

"Right? Where the hell does he get it from?"

"Not from me. Us Munsons are humble. He must've gotten it from your side of the family."

Steve smiled as a traitorous breath of laughter came from him and he clamped it down immediately. It wasn't fair. Eddie couldn't do this. He glared at him, ready to blame the whole situation on him even though he was probably tricked as well.

"Don't look at me like that", Eddie said, his voice soft.

"I'd rather not look at you at all." Steve turned his back on him, hoping he could ignore him until they were let out. He came face to face with the mended part of the wall that Dart had dug out years ago. Such and odd series of events that led him here, that led him to Eddie. Just for it to end like this.

"Steve-"

“I fucking hate you.”

“No you don’t. Take that back right now.”

"I won't."

"Then look me in the eye and tell me."

Steve turned and he wished he hadn't. All he saw in Eddie's eyes was heartbreak. He knew because it mirrored the look in his own eyes. But it couldn't be real. It just couldn't.

"You should be in the movies, you know that? Give Hollywood a run for its money."

"Steve just listen to me! I'm sorry for playing with your feelings. I really am! But I wasn't lying when I said I want to be with you. Steve I l-"

"Don't you fucking dare." Steve's grip on his bat tightened. "Don't say that if you don't mean it or I swear..."

"Steve..." Eddie took a breath and stepped closer to him, incredibly aware of the weapon in his hand. "I love you."

Steve dropped the bat and Eddie pulled him into his arms. Steve wanted to beg for so many things. For Eddie to always love him, to treat him gently, to make him believe that he wanted him forever. It all came out in the form of tears.

"If this is another joke-"

"The only joke here if that I had you and fucked it up like an idiot."

"You really want me?", Steve sniffled.

"Baby, baby, baby", Eddie cradled his face and wiped some of his tears away. “I’m not even gonna lie, I’m just so fucking obsessed with you.” He wondered how many of his messages got through to Steve in the end. "Did you listen to any of my voicemails?"

Steve allowed a small smile through. "I think if I did, I would've caved in too fast. I'm obsessed with you too. I love you, Eddie. Too much probably."

"I'll be the judge of what's too much. And you, Steven Malcolm Harrington, are not too much."

Eddie kissed him and Steve felt whole again. Then Eddie kissed him again and Steve felt more than whole. In between the kisses, Steve started to laugh.

"I can't believe we're making out where Dustin kept his pet demodog."

Eddie jumped up into his arms. "His pet WHAT!?!"

Send me a dialogue prompt

[fuwushiguro]

I Can Be The Eye Of The Storm

chapter six | masterlist | chapter eight

Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader | Megumi Fushiguro x f!Reader

Genre: Smut & Angst with horror/thriller elements Notes: thank u everyone who sent love about this series it’s been fun to get back into it! hope this chapter was worth the wait hehe 💕 Warnings: 18+, rape/noncon, major character death, false imprisonment, violence, attempted murder, blood mention, misogyny. Words: 4.4k

Synopsis: You meet a handsome older man while partying in Paris with your best friend. Going home with a man you've just met isn't usually your style, but looking at him is more than enough to dispel any doubts. But maybe you should have listened to your intuition.

“Toji please!” you cry, pounding against the door. “PLEASE!”

You keep hammering at the wood, you assume it will break if you carry on. But in truth you know you’re the one who’s going to break. You’re exhausted, you’re hurt, you haven’t fully processed everything that’s happened. And now the man who said he loves you is keeping you locked up in a room in the same building as your attacker.

And still, you can’t stop.

No matter how much your arms ache. Despite your voice becoming hoarse and your legs wanting to give out from under you.

You don’t stop.

“She needs a muzzle.” Gojo smirks, flipping through a deck of cards as he sits comfortably on a couch in the living room. The spot you’d been sitting in eating hashbrowns hours earlier without a care in the world.

Toji gawps at him. A little dumbfounded by his sheer audacity.

“What’s wrong, big man?” he asks as he starts to organise the cards. “Didn’t realise she was such a handful? I knew she was trouble from the second I saw her.”

And now, Toji has had enough. He hadn’t been able to sit down, instead pacing around as he heard your pleas and cries of his name. This is so fucked, but he couldn’t think of another way. But hearing what Satoru has to say is making his blood boil, and he’s no better than a caveman despite wanting to be.

“Shut the fuck up!” he lashes out, he approaches Gojo so quickly he’s barely registered their close proximity. He just looks up, and Toji is towering before him. And another second later, the cards are flying out of his hands as Toji begins to throw punches. “You raped my fucking girlfriend and you’re wondering why she’s screaming. Are you fucking kidding me?!” he yells.

“That’s enough.” Nanami breaks them up.

“Easy…” Gojo replies, his face bloody with a busted lip as he tries to regain his composure. “You sound like a pathetic old man, girlfriend? Please, you’re twice her age. It’s embarrassing.”

“I love her. I let you hurt her.” he rakes his fingers through his hair. “I didn’t invite you here for this.”

“So… why did you invite us?” Gojo stands up now, levelling his stare with Toji’s. “You said she’s slutty, and you’re willing to share. I took advantage of what you said and fucked her.”

“Not like this.” Toji responds immediately. “You did take fucking advantage. And you’re not even sorry. You’re not even fucking sorry about what you’ve done to that poor girl.” he argues. He begins to pant out of frustration. Nanami can do nothing but watch the two men argue. Gojo runs his tongue along his top row of teeth before deciding to speak again.

“Either way, we can’t leave her locked in there forever.” Gojo reminds him.

“I should let her call the police. I cannot fucking believe you’ve done this you stupid fuck.” Toji carries on with his barrage of insults. His gaze keeps flitting between the men he’s with and the stairs to the bedroom you’re locked in. “I don’t think a little bit of coke is going to matter to the police when there are bigger things to focus on.”

“You’re not calling the police.” Nanami speaks.

“Right, you’re not going to call them. Because you know it’ll blow all of our shit up and it’ll fuck yours up the most. So shut the fuck up, sit down and shuffle the cards. We can think about what to do in the morning.” Gojo orders him.

“I’m not fuckin’ playing.” Toji tells him. He retreats to the kitchen and grabs himself a beer, cracking off the top with his teeth. He’s only just realised his knuckles are bleeding and his hands are shaking. He puts down his beer and holds his head in his hands, his head pounding with the gravity of the situation.

Nanami picks up the cards that Gojo had dropped and begins to shuffle again. He hands them all out between to two of them, thinking snap is probably the easiest and low effort game to play.

“How can you sit there and play cards knowing what you’ve done?” Toji asks, emerald eyes vibrating as he stares over to Gojo.

“Just having fun, Toji.” he smirks again, “Just a little fun.”

A few hours pass and you know Toji isn’t coming. He’s hiding from you, he’s ashamed. Not that you know that, though. To you, he’s having fun with his friends and laughing at your expense.

You gave up kicking and punching the door a while ago. Now, you’re crumpled in a heap on the bedroom floor. Is this all you can do? Give up and accept this is it for you? That Toji might keep you locked up in this place until you agree to their terms? They can’t… they can’t make you.

And then a harrowing thought crosses your mind.

No one knows you’re here.

One of them alone could easily shut you up for good.

And there are three of them.

“To—” you stop yourself before his name becomes louder than a whisper. He doesn’t care about you. He isn’t going to help you. It’s all about self-preservation, for him. Toji is too scared of facing prison to help you out of this mess.

It’s got to be you.

You pull yourself to your feet using the bed frame, your legs are still shaky, but you know you’ll have to find your nerve soon. There’s no one coming to save you, nobody is going to undo the damage that has been done. If those three are all about self-preservation, you have to be to.

But nothing is catching your eye. There isn’t a single thing you can use to your advantage. You think about battering the door down using the armchair in the corner of the room, but you can’t imagine you have enough strength to keep repeatedly hammering away at it.

You instinctively reach for your phone, forgetting Toji had taken it from you.

“Fuck.” you mutter and begin to pace around the room. All you can think about is Nobara. What would she do in this situation? But that question immediately vanishes when you remember she wouldn’t be stupid enough to get herself into this mess. She didn’t trust Toji from the get-go and you shouldn’t have either. Tears begin to well in your eyes and spill over as you realise your momentary injection of heroism has been snuffed out. You’re stuck here like the useless idiot you are.

Your breath hitches as you look at the windows in the room. The same windows Gojo attacked you against. Your heart race quickens as you replay it in your mind. You can’t help but feel sick. It’s as though you can physically feel the weight of a bowling ball in your stomach as you relive the incident that occurred hours ago and think about the only thing people will see you as if you manage to escape.

A victim.

You place your hands against the window, and then your forehead, closing your eyes and beginning to sob violently. What had you done to deserve this? You know you’re stupid. You’re gullible and a fool and you’re just so fucking useless. But is that really a crime that deserves such a severe punishment? Is being a failure truly worthy of what Satoru Gojo had done to you?

As your eyes slowly begin to flutter open, you notice the pool illuminating your skin as it had with Gojo in his room earlier. It’s dark outside now, the cyan water even more bold than it was this morning. It looks so inviting…

It looks so… warm.

“Snap, I win.”

“You’ve gotta be cheating, Kento. You’re killing me.” Gojo laughs.

Toji is still leaning over the breakfast bar as he watches them both play their tedious little game of snap. He’s thinking about going to see you now. Checking on you, seeing where your head is at. He thinks maybe if he grovels, you two might be able to work something out. He’s drunk, he’s coked up, everyone is coked up. But surely there is some arrangement you can come to so that he can make things right without involving the police.

“I’m gonna head up.” Toji announces, shoving his fifth bottle of beer to the edge of the counter. “I need to check on her… try and do some damage contro—”

The three men pause, almost frozen in time as they look at one another to confirm they all heard that. Did they all really hear the sound of glass shattering from upstairs? They can’t move. None of them can bring themselves to snap out of their daze and move. What the hell was that?

And then, the sound of the crashing glass is followed by the familiar sound of water splashing. Toji finally manages to move himself, standing with Nanami and Gojo as they rise to their feet and stare at the bubbling blue water they can see out of the window.

Nobody says a word. They just stare and continue to stare.

Suddenly, you rise. The water is wiped from your eyes, and you see all of their eyes fixed on you. You too, are frozen. All you can do is kick your legs to keep you afloat. You know that your fear of them chasing you will be realised as soon as you make a break for it.

But you can’t stay here.

You swim as fast as you can to the edge of the pool, and your prediction comes true. As soon as you start swimming, they’re running for the front door. They’re scared, they’re panicking, this turn of events hadn’t even been in the equation for them.

Before they can unlock the front door, you’re already out of the pool and sprinting in the wrong direction. You’ve become disorientated but you know that you can’t double back on yourself, you’ll only fall into one of their arms and end up locked in a room without a method of escape. You have one chance to get away, and this is it.

Despite running through the wilderness in your underwear, you’d been smart enough to put on a pair of trainers and a jacket. You’d have covered yourself more, but you thought the water would weigh you down and give them more of a chance to catch you. That’s not a chance you can take.

“Princess!” you hear Toji bellow in the distance. There’s a gap between you for now, but you know it won’t be long before they close the distance. You don’t think hiding is an option, you have to keep running.

You run.

You fucking run until you feel your lungs empty.

You run until your legs are cut to shreds by the brambles and thorns through the trees.

You run… until you can’t.

You’re staring over the edge of a cliff; another step would mean certain death and your stomach plummets at the thought of accidentally falling over. Looking left and right does little good as you know you’ll ultimately be met with the same fate no matter which way you go. The snow begins to nip at your skin. The adrenaline is wearing off and you’re starting to feel hopeless once more.

As you take a deep breath and contemplate your next move, you feel a strong grip on your wrist.

“Caught ya.” Gojo smiles, menacingly. You let out a scream and try to yank your arm from him, but it does no good. Toji and Nanami aren’t around, they must have split up to search for you. It’s just you and Satoru. And your legs begin to give out under you once again. “Squeezing your thighs f’me, hm? That excited to see me again?”

“L-Let go.” you try to sound confident, but your stuttering earns a pitiful laugh. This is the worst-case scenario. You can barely process what he did to you let alone what is about to happen. And Toji, once again, isn’t here to stop him.

“You’re no victim, look at you. Even now you’re running around in your underwear like a slut. Do you love the attention that much? You know anyone could be out here, waiting to fuck you. But that’s exciting to you, right? I get it, being desirable is the greatest feeling in the world. That’s why I couldn’t keep my hands off ya.”

“You raped me.” you say, your voice refusing to falter. “You know what you did, and you have to live with that until the day you die.”

“It doesn’t bother me, sweetheart. I wanted something and I got it, that’s how I am. It’s my right. And you were begging for me to fuck you.”

“No—”

“Yes.” he interjects. “Girls like you are good for one thing, and you know it. You’re just a cunt to be fucked. You’re barely a person. You’re a hole to be filled and make men feel good about themselves. You don’t think Toji loved you, do you? He loved having a pretty young thing wrapped around him and being able to brag about it. You’re nothing.”

“I— I’m…” you don’t know what to say. Partly because you think he might be right. You’ve always known it was ridiculous for Toji to be saying he loved you after barely knowing each other. It was some Disney romance you’d built up in your head to be more than it was. It wasn’t and isn’t love. It’s just lust.

You’re nothing.

You’re nothing.

“At least I’m not a rapist.” you tell him, your eyes focusing on his as you refuse to back down. “I’ve never had to have sex by force. I have loved and been loved. You just hurt people.” he grunts, forcing you closer to the edge of the mountain. It makes you smile, laugh, even. Knowing that you’re getting under his skin.

“You should be careful how you speak to people when you’re in such precarious situations.” he warns you. It’s a threat, and you see the gleam in his eye which tells you he isn’t afraid to follow through.

“I don’t give a fuck.” you smile. “You can’t do anything worse to me than you already have.”

“Wanna bet?”

“If I die, if you murder me, I promise… I’m going to haunt you until the end of time.” you start. “Whether I’m the first, only, or last of the people you’ve hurt like this. I will fucking haunt you until you lose your mind. I’ll always be with you, like your own personal stalker. And I won’t stop until you get what’s coming to you.” you speak with so much conviction, you hear a shallow and panicked grunt settle in his throat. He finds his steel once more, looking at you with disdain before allowing himself to smile.

“Go ahead and try,” he pushes you away from him. “I don’t believe in ghosts.” and with a final kick to your abdomen, a harrowing, involuntary scream tells you both that you’re not long for the world.

The air bites at your skin as you fall. He watches in horror as he realises what he’s done. What he has actually done. He’s killed you. Your eyes lock as you continue to fall. There’s no reading either of your expressions. Though he imagines you’re in shock, he is too, after all. He can’t turn away until he hears a thud, a disgusted gasp leaving him before he turns to look again. The white snow around you has been stained red, and your eyes are staring daggers up at him.

“Shit.” he speaks, pacing around as he tries to contemplate what to do.

For the first time in his life, he thinks he might actually be experiencing regret. His knees buckle, just as yours had after he assaulted you. His eyes fill with tears as he crawls on his hands and knees to peer over the edge and see your lifeless body staring back at him. He covers his mouth with a hand as he tries to keep it together.

You’d spoken with so much conviction and certainty. And now Satoru Gojo is experiencing… remorse? For the first time in his fucking life. Could you have been right about haunting him? Is this your doing?

“Have you found her?” Nanami asks, emerging from behind.

“Her footprints disappeared, she’s smarter than we’ve given her credit for.” Toji announces.

They both look confused as Gojo can’t pull himself away from the edge of the cliff. All they see is a pathetic, snivelling man on all fours. A sight neither of them had ever expected to see before. Toji’s brows furrow, and Nanami’s eyes widen as he realises what’s going on in record time.

“Try to stay calm.” he puts his arm across Toji’s chest, doing what he can to calm the situation before things get out of hand. But Toji is confused, he doesn’t understand why Nanami said something so random. He is calm. But they need to find you before things escalate even further.

It finally hits Toji when Gojo turns to look at them. Cheeks sparkling with tears in the winter moonlight.

“I f-found her like this.” he lies, effortlessly.

“No, no no…” Toji panics and hurries to look over the edge with Gojo. “FUCK!” he bellows as he witnesses the same sight Gojo had been staring at for quite some time. Nanami joins the two of them, standing on the other side of Toji as all three men look down at you with nothing but contempt.

“It’s regrettable, but I doubt anyone will find her out here. It seems we’re in the clear.” Nanami tells them, cool and collected as always.

Toji can’t stop himself from crying, his lip quivering as he stares down at you. He can’t feel the sting of the freezing wind and nothing else is happening between him and the woman he genuinely fell in love with, in a bloody puddle beneath him.

“I didn’t do it…” Gojo sniffles. It’s the only thing that can break Toji out of his trance as he starts to see red other than the blood surrounding your body.

“Is that what you think?” he mutters, his lips in a tight line as he feels more tears spill over and down his cheeks as he carries on staring at you. “You think you didn’t cause this?”

“She must have slipped while she was running.” Gojo lies, again, it comes too easy to him and Toji can see right through his crocodile tears. He kicks him to the ground so he’s flat on his back, and he can’t stop himself from delivering a multitude of brutal, heavy-handed punches directly into his face.

“You think this isn’t your fucking fault?!” he yells as he continues. He warns Nanami to back off when he tries to separate them again. “I should fucking kill you, you think she’d be running for her life out here if not for you? You think she’d be dead if you hadn’t—” he can’t even say it, covering his sorrow with more anger as he beats Gojo to a bloody pulp.

“You made your point.” Nanami interjects, consequences be damned. “The last thing we need is another dead body out here. We need to get back and figure out what we’re going to do about this.” he speaks, managing to tear Toji away from Gojo.

“Fuck sake, fine.” Toji grunts, walking ahead of them both. Nanami helps Gojo to his feet and helps him walk back to the house.

You’re so still. So statuesque as their voices fade from being clear to quiet mumbles. And then finally to nothing. But you don’t move, you just continue to lie still, soon to be a memory to all who knew you.

The atmosphere in the cabin is damn near disgusting. Nobody has spoken a word in hours, and the black sky is starting to fade. Toji can’t tear his gaze from the crackling fire while Gojo continuously dabs tissue on his gushing wounds and bleeding nose.

“I fucking loved her.” Toji grimaces, not sure if he’s talking to himself or letting Gojo know what he’s taken from him. “I don’t really give a shit what you thought of her or us… I know how I feel, and I loved her.” he finishes, wiping a lone tear from his eye as he tries to wrap his head around the fact that he brought you here and you’ve been murdered for it.

“Please try not to kill each other.” Nanami orders the two of them as he takes his cup of coffee and a cigarette outside. The two men watch him go before their eyes return to the aggressive flames in the fireplace.

“Sure you did.”

“Don’t push me, Satoru, or I’m gonna turn your face inside out.” he warns him.

“Whatever. It’s done now, she’s gone. What’s happened, has happened. We need to think about what we do next.” he tries to reason with him. “We’re going to have to pretend everything is fine and normal. We’re going to have to make sure nobody knows this ever happened.”

“I’ve got her phone so I can cover things for a while… and her car keys are—” he thinks for a moment as he tries to recall the last place he saw them. He checks inside the bowl at the entrance only to discover they’re not there. “They must be in our room.” he runs upstairs to check. The reality of how much covering up they’re going to have to do hits him as he sees your luggage littered around the room. But he tries to focus on searching for the keys. “Shit.” he speaks quietly as it dawns on him that you’ve taken them. He leaves the room, spotting Gojo at the bottom of the stairs.

“Well?”

“She must have taken them.” he alerts him. “She must have been planning on going for the car but ran the wrong way.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah, shit. We’ve got to burn her stuff and figure out a way to dump the fucking car.” Toji speaks, visibly getting agitated again. “You’ve fucked us.” he yells at Gojo.

“This is not my fault! It was you who—”

Again.

Another splash in the pool.

You watch on in horror as Nanami’s lifeless body falls into the pool. That beautiful aqua colour becoming stained with red. But you don’t have time to watch this. You don’t have time to stand around and watch a dead man drown. You drop the heavy log you found on your way back to the cabin, the edge stained with Nanami’s blood. You knew it would kill him. You knew you’d become a murderer the second you picked it up no matter who you struck with it. He hadn’t bothered to save you when he could have. He decided to be ignorant, and he had no qualms in leaving you for dead back there.

Why would you grant him anything but the same?

You flee before you can be spotted, getting your car keys from your pocket, and hurrying inside. Once Gojo and Toji see Nanami’s body gushing blood in the pool, they know what’s happening. As they rush outside, they both spot you behind the wheel of your car, headlights beaming as you prepare to pull away. Toji rushes over to slam on the hood, begging you to get out so you can talk. You shake your head, barely able to look at him. Your eyes are more focused on Satoru Gojo.

He’s horrified.

You’d think he’d just seen an honest to God ghost before his very eyes.

And you will fucking haunt him.

You flip them both off before reversing as fast as you can and driving away.

Toji drops to his knees, he thinks he might be having a panic attack. He has emotional whiplash from everything that’s just unfolded. He was convinced you were dead, everybody was. And now… Nanami is gone.

“This isn’t over. She’s not going to let this go.” Toji practically heaves as he explains through panicked breaths.

“She’s really going to haunt me.”

“Yeah, we need to count our fucking days.” Toji continues. “You’ve fucked us.”

“I’m sorry.” Gojo answers.

“What good is sorry now, Gojo? We’re dead men walking.”

You drove, you don’t know how long for. So long that you thought you might crash if you had to keep your eyes open any longer. For some reason, you thought you’d been driving home. To the safety of your father and brothers. The security of your home and the money your father would ultimately use to guarantee justice for what you’ve been through and shield you from you suffering the consequences of what you did to Nanami.

But you’re not home. You’re parking at a house that you recognise, though. Your legs are moving on auto pilot as you get out of the car, not even bothering to close the door behind you as you approach the front door.

You don’t even know what time it is, so you can’t find it in you to care as you press the doorbell and begin to pound on the door repeatedly. There’s not a word you can say, not a single thing to speak of as you continue what you’re doing and wait for somebody to answer.

“I’m coming! Do you know what time it is?” you hear from inside as the stairs creak beneath their feet. “What is it?” she asks as the door opens.

“Nobara…” you manage to speak, your voice absolutely shredded to pieces. “Do you have a cigarette?” you ask before collapsing into her arms.

“Oh my God… Oh fuck, hey, hey hey. Don’t die on me!” she begins to cry as she tries to lower you carefully to the ground and hold you in her arms. “Maki! MAKI! CALL AN AMBULANCE!” she screams before turning to look at you again. Your eyes begin to flutter, and you can’t keep them open anymore.

“I love you…” you whisper, before fully closing them.

“Please don’t die!” she sobs, cradling your body close to hers. “I love you too, dummy. Hear me? I love you so much… so please don’t die.”

© 2023 fuwushiguro

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

Can you write about the Last Ronin where we were his girlfriend before everything went to shit and we meet him again but he also get to meet his child as well? Btw I frickin' love your fanfiction, I hope you keep expanding you work.🥹

16 Years: part 1 (Angst)

TLR!Michelangelo x reader

Part 2 (18+) Part 3 (18+)

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A/N: Thank you so much🖤 I feel like writing for TLR has opened whole new world of writing for me, and I will love to do more, even if I cry every time😭🖤 I had “Tout L'univers” by Gjon’s Tears playing on repeat as I was writing this, so when I tell you I was bawling my eyes out, I was BAWLING. For some reason I just had to make everything worse for poor Mikey😭

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Warnings: Spelling, The Last Ronin and The Lost Years spoilers, loss of loved ones, loss of child, mentioning of suicide, trauma, self hatred, crying (not just in writing, omg), and probably a lot more.

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For 16 years, Mikey had tried to live with the spirits of those he had lost. Trying to find peace with them, and let them be. But he just couldn’t. Mikey just couldn’t rest with all these faces he used to love surrounding him, knowing that he could not help them. Raphael, Leonardo, Casey, April, the Fugetoid, Master Splinter, Donatello, Gerel, Shaka. All of them haunted him, speaking to him, telling him what to do. His brothers even went so far as to belittle him for his actions and failures. Every. Single. Day.

But if there was one face that Mikey couldn’t handle around him, it was yours. He dared not to look at you, nor the child you carried on your hip. The pain from seeing the two of you, in complete silence, not speaking a single word, being the only ones that actually did as he asked - staying quiet and letting him think. He looked at you once, the pain of seeing you and the young child in your arms, was almost enough for him to end it all before he even made it to Korea.

But though Mikey never looked at you, he felt your presence with him everywhere he went. You always followed closely behind, carrying your little bundle of love, just like you did the day he lost you…

Mikey hated how clearly he remembered it. It had been absolute chaos. They never had a chance. Leo had told him to bring April and the Fugetoid, all making sure nothing happened to you. You, Mikey’s girlfriend, who had been in the second stage of your first pregnancy. You, the only woman that Mikey had ever loved. You, the only person who was willing to let him think of something, other than his horrible war of a family feud, and his so-called destiny. You, the love of his life, and the only reason Mikey has seen a reason to fight in the first place…

Mikey had lingered for too long. That’s at least what he told himself. He should just have done as Leo had said, and gotten you out of the building. He should never had hesitated. If he hadn’t, then maybe you wouldn’t have been caught in the explosion. Then maybe you, April… and the kid would still have been alive.

Mikey still remembered how strangely numb he had been when he woke up from the explosion. His body ached all over, but it was as if he felt nothing. You were all gone. There was no way any of you could have survived that explosion. Leo, the Fugetoid, Casey, April, you… and them. That was what Mikey referred to the long lost life as - them. Giving them a name would just slowly kill him over time, making everything harder than it needed to be. Almost as hard as it was so leave the ruins of your grave, without trying to look for your body. But as much as Mikey wanted to stay and look for you, he had to leave for the last family he had left, before they too were gone.

But like always, he was too late for that too. Donnie and Master Splinter was already far gone when he made it to Japan. That was Mikey’s breaking point, and the first time he wished to end his suffering. Everyone was gone. His friends, his brothers, his father, the love of his life and his unborn child. Mikey was angry. Not just at the world around him, but himself. He could just have stayed with the two of you. He could have found you and laid you to rest. Giving you, his brother, his friends and his child a proper burial. But he didn’t, and he hated himself for it.

Mikey hated himself everyday. He hated himself for not being able to protect you, and he hated himself for not taking care of you. And taking care of his own damn child. As he forced himself through the snow of the Japanese mountains, as he trained under Master Yip, when he momentarily went blind in Mongolia, and when he had to fight for his life in Ukraine, before finally defeating Death Worm in Italy, all Mikey could do was think about you and how hate himself. But soon he learned that there was only one way to make up for his mistakes. Revenge. Revenge for all that had been done to his family. Oroku Hiroto would have to feel the pain that Mikey had been feeling for the past 16 years. And that was what Mikey came to New York for. Revenging all of his family, especially the one that didn’t even have a name.

But as it has happened so many times, Mikey’s plans did not go as he intended. His first assault on Oroku Hiroto was a failure to put it frankly, leaving him wounded as he had to retreat to the sewers he once called his home. Here he intended to do what any honorable ninja would do - take his own life before the enemy could get him. But then, for the first time in 16 years, life had better plans for him, the universe deciding to keep him alive once more. Mikey’s wounds were so great, that he passed out of blood loss before any harm could be done to him. That was when Casey Marie found him, calling out for her mother, telling her to help.

Mikey woke up in a warm bed a few hours later. Confused, he scanned his surroundings, wondering if he was dead. It looked like the lair - his old home. But then he saw April, and for the first time the world shone a light upon him. April, his dearest friend, was alive. In all these years, she had been alive. He learned that she was not alone. Her daughter was there too.

“Is it just you and your daughter down here?”, Mikey asked as he slowly swung his legs over the edge of the bed.

“No”, April answered calmly, a smile spreading over her face. “We do live with two others. I really think you should meet them, Michelangelo. Right now they’re out in the sewers, looking for stuff to bargain with on the Black Market, but I think they could be home any time soon”.

And as if April’s words were magical, distant clatter of metal could be heard, alerting them to people entering the lair.

“Aunt April!”, the voice of a young man yelled, the volume of his voice getting stronger as he approached the room. Then he barged in, proudly holding up something in his hand. It looked like a little metal lump with wires sticking out all over the place. “See what I found! Can you believe it?! Someone just dropped this into the sewer! Don’t they know how much this is worth?! Idiots! Imagine the comic books I can get out of Tinker with this! I can finish father’s old collection!”

Mikey froze at the sight of the boy. It was not his impressive height he had for a teenager, nor the muscles on his arms that shocked Michelangelo, but it was the color of the boy's skin. It was green. Light green to be specific. Mikey’s eyes wandered over him, taking him in, ignoring the growing smile on April’s lips, or how the boy suddenly seemed to notice the large turtle’s presence in the room. Mikey’s mouth was dry as he saw the three slender fingers on his hands, his lack of hair, the outline of what looked like a plastron on his front, and the unmistakable shell-like shape on his back. And his eyes, strangely recognizable.

The boy’s hand fell to his side, the metallic object suddenly not seeming interesting anymore. His eyes wide as he took the stranger sitting on the bed. Mikey in turn just stared. The two of them looking with their mouths agasp.

“Yoshi”, a voice sounded out in the hallway, breaking the silence. Mikey’s heart almost stopped. He knew that voice. It was the voice he had longed for so long. The voice he had blamed himself for silencing. Yet there it was. Just outside the door. “Be nice to your aunt. She might be working…”

You froze in the doorway. Mikey almost broke down. It was the face he had forced himself to look away from for 16 years. The face of the silent woman that used to carry a baby around wherever he traveled. You looked older, but still as beautiful as the day he first met you. Your eyes sparkling with the same light he fell in love with, all those years ago.

“Mikey?” you whispered, holding back a sop as your eyes began to water. The mentioning of his name caused the boy’s eyes to flicker.

Mikey could only nod, feeling his heart pump his blood so fast that he was starting to get dizzy. You ran to him, hugging him tighter than you ever had before. His hands tightened around you, his throat knotting up, making him fight for air. He buried his face against the crock of your neck, feeling all of your muscles move as you sobbed against him. You cradled his head against you, holding him against you, tracing his head, shell, shoulders and arms.

“I’ve missed you so much, Mikey”, you sobbed, bringing his head up to look at you, before placing a quick kiss on his lips. That was what broke him. He returned your quick kiss with urgency before he broke down in tears, hiding his face against you once more. 16 years of fear and pain finally boiled over, Mikey could finally let it go. At least for a short while. He almost clawed at your clothes in order to get you closer to him. It was as if no physical connection was enough.

“I’ve missed you too, (Y/N)”, he choked out, letting the tears fall as your comforting hands made shapes on his skin.

“Mom?”

Still holding on to Mikey, you turned to look at the boy. The poor guy looked so confused, but Mikey had a feeling. The boy most likely also had. Both of them just waiting for her to confirm what they had already guessed.

“Yoshi, sweetheart”, you said, wiping a tear away, before reaching out a hand to him. “Come and say hello to your father”.

Neither Yoshi or Mikey said a word, staring at each other as he made his way over to you. April wiped one of her own tears away, before she left the room with a smile, closing the door behind her. It was time for the three of you to catch up.

You slowly moved out of the way, letting Yoshi stand in front of Mikey. None of them knew what to say. All they could do was look at each other, trying to calm their erratic breathing. Then suddenly, Yoshi launched forward, wrapping his arms around his father in a tight embrace, the tears rolling down his face. Mikey hugged back immediately, finally getting a chance to hug the kid he thought he had lost.

“I’m sorry, Yoshi”, Mikey choked out, trying his best to keep calm. “I’m sorry I couldn't take care of you and your mother”.

“It’s okay, dad”, Yoshi said, smiling even though his eyes were overflowing and his body was shaking. “I took care of her while you were gone”.

[mylordshesacactus]

VERY soft about my girl Atri tonight tho.

She's a little baby cleric, nineteen, level 2 and one of those is in ranger, raised in a cloister, never been more than a day's travel from her home temple before, but her devotion to the Raven Queen is very real and very very tender.

We're running Death House as the optional intro to Curse of Strahd (so, spoilers if you're avoiding those!) and just. God, I'm so glad I decided to play my girl in this campaign, it's perfect for her.

Atri's defining character trait is that she loves the undead--truly and genuinely, even the mindless or vicious undead, because by their very nature the undead suffer. They're trapped--sometimes in prisons of their own making, yes, but trapped--and, worst of all, very few people seem to care. Even other clerics of her Lady generally view undead as abominations; to be pitied, maybe, and the peaceful ones treated with kindness, but objects of revulsion, an aberration of the natural order, something to be purged.

Atri says: The undead aren't abominations. Necromancers are.

In her world the Goddess of Death makes a promise: All chains are broken. Death means an end--no more joy and memories but no more suffering, no more fear, no more loneliness or pain. No matter what, or what you did in life, bad or good--death ends it. No one can hurt you, and you can't hurt anyone else.

Necromancy breaks that promise. It gives cruel spirits the ability to continue harming others when they should be past all chance of it, and it allows the innocent to continue to suffer. Spirit-binding is an obscenity--you cannot command a soul. No one has that right.

Which means this module has been, just...I couldn't design a scenario to better let Atri shine.

It says a lot about her that, having more than established that the lady of the house murdered her husband and his pregnant paramour using fucked-up necromancy and her vengeful spirit appears to still be around, Atri's response was...to gulp, light incense in her censor, and walk a slow circle around the room, calling out politely to the Lady Elizabeth and offering her some understanding--you must have been very hurt, and very angry. Your husband disrespected you in your own home, and that was wrong of him. I'm sorry you were betrayed that way. Will you talk to me? I'm Atri, Order of the Broken Chain, I'm here to help...

(It says a lot about her, also, that she made no further attempt at reconciliation after finding what she did to her victims. Compassion doesn't mean forgiveness. She just...lit the incense again, called out to what was left of Klara, and very very softly apologized. You were taken advantage of--whether you felt that way or not. And then you were hurt very badly by your employer. They shouldn't have done any of it...I'm sorry. Someone should have helped you...)

The party in and out of character has been pushing Atri to the forefront to do the talking-to-ghosts bit. She's had some lovely, lovely tender conversations with Klara and the kids, telling them how sorry she is, that she and her friends are here to help them...she cut the bindings on the bed where Klara was tortured to death, just as a gesture that might bring her spirit some closure. Broken chains, a promise kept too late. Recited full funerary rites over what was left of the poor woman's body.

Just feeling VERY soft that while we DID ask them important questions about the plot, 90% of Atri's conversations with ghosts in this house haven't been about mystery-solving; they've been about slowly, gently, prying free some of the pain that's kept them trapped in the place just as much as the fucked-up necromancy.

If Atri dies in this prologue, calling it now it'll be because she's not gonna run if it means leaving anyone behind.

[diaboliklove]

modern day au where yui cannot catch a break, and things only get worse when her house gets broken into by an angry red headed robber — but instead of taking her things, he takes her heart

yui was having the worst year of her life.

even worse than in 2013 when her father wouldn’t let her go to that taylor swift concert since it was deemed ‘unholy.’

she really thought only taylor could understand her.

but now its 2024, and she’s begun to have adult problems. she’s broke, her heater is broken, her apartment has started to fall apart, she stained her favorite pink skirt with coffee, her phone screen shattered when she dropped it on the train, she ran out of her favorite lip gloss, college bills keep stacking up, her upstairs neighbors never stop engaging in fornication, strawberries are out of season so she can no longer afford them and most importantly —

her father just passed away.

and all she wanted now was to rot in her apartment and ask god for mercy on her poor heart.

“it’ll be okay,” she sniffled back a tear. “father used to say the lord puts us through trials to test our faith.”

yeah, used to.

it was now late night, coming back from her fathers funeral she felt more empty than when she first got the news. her feet hurt from the black heels she now had to walk home in, the black dress did little to give her warmth, her cheeks were numb from the cold weather and having to comfort people with a smile that she’ll be okay, that there was nothing to worry about.

… but yui was already worrying about dinner. also how she’d have to shiver herself to sleep again. she couldn’t allow herself to cry herself to sleep again, her face would be frozen when she woke up, and what if she finds another hole in the walls? tape didn’t work last time, and she’s running out of rags to stuff in between them. and what about her job? she can’t buy more rags without it. they granted her a leave of absence due to her fathers passing, but what if they replaced her? if she lost her job she couldn’t pay rent — and she couldn’t ask for another extension on rent, her landlord was fed up enough with her pleading, she wouldn’t get lucky again. and also —

“no, lets just take it one day at a time. thats right,” she neared the steps to her apartment. “deep breath in, and then out. lets have some canned soup for dinner, and then pair it with rewatching the kardashians. yeah. thats a great plan.”

she turned the corner to her door.

“everything will get better,”

she put the key in the lock.

“as long as i stay positive.”

and she swung her door open —

“shit!”

“AH!”

— right into a mans back.

at first she thought she opened the wrong door. but the faint smell of her candles hit her nose, and her eyes fell on the very TV she watched shitty TV on in the mans arms — and then her eyes landed on a fucking sword on his waist.

her eyes followed it as he dropped her TV from his arms, and unsheathed it from his waist —

— and directed it right in between her eyes.

“empty your fucking purse! ill fucking kill you!”

Oh wow. wooooow.

now you would think the right action would be to do as he said. anyone would listen to a manic man with hair as red as blood, especially when they pointed a sword at you that looked like it came from the 1800’s. its not like yui wanted to die, so maybe she should save her life and sacrifice her beloved tv and the few pennies she had in her wallet.

but instead. her face twisted, and yui broke out in the most ugly open mouthed sob she’s ever done.

it wasn’t out of fear. it didn’t even register how this man genuinely had bloodlust leaking out of him. it was out of absolute frustration and sadness that this was becoming her life — and that she couldn’t even have her dream of watching the kardashians.

she fell to her knees. because, seriously, what the hell did she do to deserve all of this? she was a good kid. never acted out to her father and attended mass even when she had the flu. she never wished bad on anyone. but why does everything always have to end bad? on her 11th birthday her goldfish frank died, when she wanted a coffee last week, her card declined and now she couldn’t even sob into her blankets while she heard kim talking about how rich she was. can’t she have one good day? can’t she —

“holy shit, are you crying?” the red haired man didn’t even move.

yui looked up to him, and just stared at the man’s flabbergasted expression. through her tears, she tried to inhale through her nose, but it came out in little stutters. she extended her purse towards him.

“take it. take everything if you want.” yui spoke through her sobs. its not like anything she really wanted was here anymore.

yui curled up into her knees and rocked herself, continuing to cry hysterically at the thought of just her life. she wouldn’t mind if that man stole everything in her house — material objects could be replaced… eventually. when her eyes started to burn by the amount of tears flooding out, she noticed she couldn’t hear the familiar floorboards creak from movement and her purse was still in her hands. lifting her head to see what was going on, she noticed that the man hadn’t moved from his spot, and just was gawking at her sitting on the floor. they held eye contact for a while, like they were both afraid to move.

sure, yui thought he was a manic. but he probably thought yui was a suicidal manic.

while she held eye contact, she finally really looked at him.

he was fit. wearing a black shirt and a ripped jean jacket, yui could tell he wasn’t bulky, but instead quite lean. his pecs were defined and his muscular abdomen and biceps were flexed against the fabric from welding the heavy sword. his joggers looked worn down, and black nikes seemed like they seen better days. his face was … nice. well sculpted and he had a well defined jaw. his lips were plump and chapped from the chill outside.

what threw yui off was the cacophony that was his hair and eye color. bright firetruck red for hair that looked like he hadn’t brushed it in days, and green eyes fit for only a predator. regardless of the situation, yui could tell he honestly was… beautiful. dangerous. probably looked more attractive if he didn’t have his mouth wide open in awe.

his eyebrows furrowed, and he closed his mouth. he placed his sword back in his sheath, and leaned down to grab the tv from the floor. he looked towards yui again, with a face she could only describe as disappointment. clicking his tongue, he began to drag the tv … not towards the door but towards the tv cabinet.

“this isn’t fun anymore. you can have your shitty shit back.”

placing the tv back in its rightful throne, he squatted down and went through a worn down black backpack — that had some random pins of a band she never heard of — that was on the floor. within it, he took out her favorite necklace, her jewelry box, a couple of her wool sweaters and her damn smart toaster she picked up extra shifts for.

“this is yours. ill be back when you’re mentally stable, you deranged bitch.” he motioned to the items on the floor.

“really?”

the robber rolled his eyes. “of course I will be! do you know how much your toaster —“

“— no i mean. you’ll give it back?”

“you want me to take it?”

“well… i’d like it if you didn’t.”

“then! shut the fuck up.”

he grabbed his backpack and swung it around his shoulder. he started making his way towards the door right beside yui. as he took two steps past her, he paused.

“you’re really broke, you know.”

yui sniffled. “i know.”

“like, broke broke. i don’t think ive ever broke into a house that had so much of nothing. what are you, a level one sim? do you have no hobbies? do you even eat? i see nothing to even munch on here.”

“… i have soup.”

“you literally have two cans of spaghetti-os and tomato soup.”

yui sniffled louder. “i know.”

things were silent for a while. yui was sure the robber was still there, probably reconsidering his decision. she expected him to march back in to take her things again while flipping her off. this entire situation seemed too good to be true… but maybe this could end with her losing nothing... no. she wouldn’t let herself hope for something that was next to impossible in a situation like this.

but something even more unlikely happened.

the robber spoke again.

“do you like dennys?”

“w…what?” yui turned her head towards him.

“dennys. the best restaurant in the world. do you like it?” his face stayed neutral, but somehow the question felt like a threat.

yui feared the honest answer, ‘ive never been’ would end in her getting decapitated. so, she said, “i do.”

“do you want to go get some pancakes?”

it was yuis turn to gawk at him. he looked bored, and slid his hands in his pockets. now, maybe a normal person would say ‘fuck no, its 10pm and you just broke into my home somehow and then tried to steal my beloved tv and lovely toaster then pointed a fucking sword at me… also, i don’t even know your name you creep.’

but yui wasn’t a normal person experiencing normal things right now.

“pancakes sound nice.”

aka, the alternative universe in which two cold hearts find warmth within each other.

[yan-lorkai]

*･゜ﾟ A/N: College has been exhausting and exams and assignments have taken up a lot of my time, luckily everything is almost over and I found time to write this drabble with my dear Rook. Now, it's my first time writing for him so he might be ooc. Also wanted to say that I'm working on my requests and they should be posted soon! :)

*･゜ﾟ Warning: Soft Yan!Rook, Naive!Reader, stalking, trespassing, unauthorized touching. I do not take any responsibility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!

It was ironic. It was so ironic that you found comfort in his arms just because you didn't know that night after night, your vague memories of someone breaking into your room and leaving warm kisses on your cheeks, humming slowly to put you to sleep more deeply and holding your hands between his, they were all real. After all, Rook had to make sure you, oh poor you, were safe and comfortable, and you looked your best when you were asleep. So cute!

The ticking of the clock made you shiver, fearing that as soon as you were alone again that terrible feeling of being watched would return. And looking outside, you could already feel a frustration rising in your chest and spreading everywhere at not being able to find the source of your discomfort anywhere. And Rook was just watching every expression, his fingers tracing patterns on your back as if to comfort you, and your eyes met his almost like a little bunny asking for protection.

"Is everything okay, Mon chouchou?" He pulls you a little closer, laying your head on his chest. And the heat and its scent give you a sense of peace, the freshness of rare flowers and the smell of earth after the rain takes you to a wood, to a very great peace of mind and your trembling fingers find their way to Rook's hand, lacing it with the same affection he holds you with.

Some would say Rook Hunt is a weird guy. That he's almost like a sponge and sucks up all the knowledge he can about the people he's interested in, that he chases after them. But you, oh sweet you, you think that he's just really a little too passionate about his hobby and the things he loves, that he's just a little too curious when he asked Savanaclaw students about their species or when he walks with his bow ready to hunt someone around campus. He's just kidding. And maybe you're too naive and dense to connect the dots.

"I just don't feel comfortable going back to my dorm." You say above a whisper. You tucks your hair behind your ears and lets out a long sigh. "If you don't mind... Can I stay here?"

Mon Dieu, what innocent prey running into the arms of its predator without knowing it!

"Mon Ange, you could spend eternity in my room and still not be able to bother me!" He smiled. Bringing your intertwined hand to his lips and kissing it gently while maintaining eye contact, Rook can almost feel the way your cheeks have gotten hot from the simple act and he'd probably tease you later, but for now he's content to look at your amazed expression. "Come on, I'll lend you one of my pajamas and then we can talk or watch some movies. Perhaps even sleep if you're too tired."

Maybe you never really knew who or what was watching you that made you feel so uneasy, but as long as you seek comfort in Rook's arms all will be well. And it's not like he's going to hurt you, no, he just wants to protect you from the hardships of Twisted Wonderland and only he could do that.

[oceansprompts]

Best of Daredevil: Cutting Edge

quotes taken from the Marvel novel, Daredevil: The Cutting Edge (1999) by Madeleine E. Robins // adjust pronouns and lines as needed.

Can I bring you a cup of coffee? I'm already on number seven or eight… I forget which.

Wouldn't you like a chance to go, I don't know, live on a beach somewhere, drinking rum punch or something?

I'd rather go to hell, I love this. This is what I do.

Don't look at me that way; I'm not the one who drank a dozen cups of coffee a day and never got any exercise.

Not bad for a skinny blind kid from Hell's Kitchen.

Not as flashy as Spider-Man, maybe, but not too shabby.

What is this guy, a zombie?

You moron, he's not the perp!

Okay, Mr. Off-the-Rack, what else did you leave behind?

It's okay, you've been very brave.

It was a kind lie, kindly meant.

Don't ever let me lose you.

Pleading "blind man walked into the door" again, your honor.

Yaaaay for the good guy!

So, he was the wall you ran into?

Triumph and hell, all at once. I wish you could have seen it.

How about dinner tonight? In a real restaurant. Like grownups.

Off to Rykers. Another day in Fun City.

Have fun storming the castle!

Maybe I should get Seeing Eye cat?

Well, of the two, I guess the brain's more important.

Doesn't it seem a little too tidy? The pink ribbons and all?

A problem? My dear, I trust you implicitly.

Who put this guy in a position where he can talk to the public?

Not me, I'm naturally suspicious.

Tooth extraction would be more fun than what I'm writing.

I can't smell anything, my food tastes funny…

I'm wasting away to a shadow of my former self.

Two-bit mouthpieces! He actually said that? Who writes his dialouge?

Why not just wave a big, huge red flag that says something suspicious here?

I will be the soul of discretion.

Try not to break any of your well-informed friends too badly loking for information, okay?

Right, everytime you come in to chat, I wind up doing renovations. New plate glass, new tables, new ribcage…

Are you just a discipline problem in the making, or do you have something useful to contribute?

Anyone got anything they want to share with the class?

Naughty, naughty.

No breakage, this time. They're learning.

A little judicious flattery can work wonders.

You're all flipping wild cards. That's part of your charm.

I don't like lawyers!

Call any hour of the day or night.

Don't throw the card away, I'll know.

Okay, hero, play brave, competent, [disabled] person.

Oh, I already do, but make me love him more.

He sounds like the kind of guy who pulled the wings off butterflies and tortured puppy dogs.

Basically, your overprivileged sociopath.

I wasn't always the polished gem you see now.

He has the business ethics of a piranha.

Judiciously applied, the business ethics of a piranha can be very useful.

Make it good, boyo.

If you like it hot, but I gotta say, man, you oughtta use a little caution.

I'm touched by your concern, but I promise you I'm well armed.

Well, the only thing to do with a bully and a coward is face him straight on!

Now it's time for bed, close your weary eyes and dream of me.

You're a darling, but I'm too tired to argue about it.

This is where I'm going to die.

You have great bone structure.

Well, look. The neighborhood avenger. Come on, you wanna play?

Spread the word, sweetheart.

I couldn't... fight him...

You stayed alive, you did the right thing.

Bullies... never give in to... bullies.

You did good, remember that.

Oh my, really bad night.

I don't deserve you.

You roll in here looking like someone shot your dog, so I figure I can be self-absorbed and ill-tempered some other morning.

Listen, sweetheart, whatever you did, it's not your fault.

If anyone's to blame, it' me.

I find I'm old-fashioned enough to prefer talking to a live human being.

Lies. All lies.

I don't think they're ever leaving. I think they like it here.

It's air conditioned, the coffee's free, they get to point and laugh at the poor people trying to work.

Nothing more than crushing piles of work. The usual. What's up?

You'll have to make this the "For Dummies" version.

Heartbreaking. You expect setbacks, but we were so close!

I mean, it worked ⸺ it just had this damned baggage with it.

Well, I'm over it. Grieved, moved on.

So you think because she's a babe that she's capable of planning murder?

Ow! Be careful! You don't know your own strength!

If I were afraid of you, would I be sitting here?

Thank you so much, I really look forard to proving I'm not the monster I'm sure I seemed the other day.

Reduces me to a screaming hormonal pulp?

Don't you think you ought to relax a little?

You really don't like being challenged at all, do you?

I have to do something, and this is what I can do.

My point is, I love you, and I don't want to have to bring you flowers at St. Clare's.

Be careful. That shiner is just beginning to fade; you don't need another, and I do need you. Okay?

Once again, it's all the fault of the guy in the tights, jeez.

It's as tired as I am.

Okay, genius, what now?

What are you gonna do, kill me?

Come on, I'm doing the best I can.

Stay alive, [name]. I'm here.

What are you, Iron Man?

Look, I'm going to close my eyes and rest for a while, don't let anything exciting happen while I'm out, okay?

Are you sure you're supposed to be scolding me in your weakened condition?

I was just trying to distract you from telling me you were right about it.

I hadn't planned on scolding you about that until you were strong enough to fight back.

You say the absolutely perfect thing sometimes. You really do.

I never know whether you're as clumsy as you seem, or just playing a very, very crafty part. Well, you're not dead yet.

That the way you treat all your dates?

Cosmic irony: man with no sympathy has a heart that beats sympathetically.

Hey... I'm one of the good guys, right?

Look at me. I look like... the Hulk's baby sister. And it's going to get worse.

I'm not stupid. I played a risky game and I lost. I lost it big and I'm going to wind up a monster.

Tell me about the colors.

Tell me what you hear.

Anyone here ever ask you what the most beautiful word in the English language is, you can tell'em: home.

Hey you, having a good time?

With you? Always.

We could rent a movie, then curl up on the couch together and ignore it.

That sounds good. We could even forget the movie.

Even better, I love you a lot.

That is what keeps me going.

[ayoungpascallover]

Sweet Belle

Joel Miller x OFC!Belle

Summary. Tommy trusts his brother Joel to keep the new girl in town safe.

Warnings. Explicit content, smut, big age gap, vague description of oc. Mild violence, insinuations of SA and harassment, angst, fluff.

Masterlist

A/N. I tried to keep the character as neutral as possible but it's assumed she's got an stereotypical hegemonic image and the female gender it's specified. Please dni if this or any of the warnings triggers you or makes you uncomfortable.

Minors dni +18

Joel remembers the first time he saw her in Jackson, helping out in the greenhouse and wearing overalls two sizes too big for her with only a thin worn-out tank top underneath with her long shiny hair falling over her face. He stared, obviously, like everyone else did; but she smiled back only at him. Ellie gave him shit about it for hours until his patience ran out and he had to send her over to trade a new jacket he'd found on his last patrol. "Jesus christ, kiddo. Just take this, it didn't fit. Go see if you find something you like." Joel had gotten rid of Ellie for a couple of hours before having her back with a new pair of converse and the same snarky comments about the younger woman from the greenhouse. And as much as he tried to ignore Ellie and the fact that the gorgeous new girl in town smiled only at him. Eventually she crawled her way to the back of Joel's mind; she was by far one of the most beautiful woman Joel had come across, even before the outbreak, so he understood the fuss around her. But he also understood in what position it put her to look like that, he had seen too many young girls sold around like objects back in Boston, Joel sometimes thought maybe it a blessing Sarah had died before she could see the hell that it was for women the first years after the break. That was why he put those thoughts aside, she was a young woman alone in a new place, Joel would never take advantage of it.

"You've seen miss universe 'round town?" Tommy asked him one night. Joel was drinking a glass of whisky as he watched his little brother fix a pair of shoes for Maria.

"The new girl...?" He wondered, his curiosity perking up at the mention of her.

"Some of the kids call her Belle. Y'know, like from the movie Beauty and..."

"Sarah was obsessed with that movie, 'course I know. It suits her" He smiled softly at the fond memory of his daughter and because it really did suit.

"You think?"

"I mean she's hard to miss. We haven't been introduced though."

"I should probably get you two to meet"

"Leave it alone, Tommy. The girl's too young and you said it yourself, she's the beauty then am I supposed to be the fucking beast?"

"I know that, after what happened with Lauren. I'm done playing fucking cupid for you. You're impossible"

"Then what the hell do I have to do with the girl?"

"She's your new roommate."

"What?!"

"Yeah, she's been drawing lots of attention you know. There's good folk in here, but you never know..."

"I don't see what's got to do with me"

"Look, Joel. She's a very pretty girl and we thought it would be better if she wasn't alone. You've seen the way some guys stare at her, you've got a free room in your house and Ellie likes her"

"She's a stranger"

"You are the only one I trust. Maria and I, we anwser for her, just see if it works, give it a month and if doesn't work we find her a place. Hopefully there'll be a new sensation in town by that time"

"Tommy..."

"C'mon, Joel. What if it was Ellie? The poor girl had no one when she got here, she's just afraid and the fucking men are desperate assholes. Please..." Joel couldn't keep his eyes from tearing, because Ellie had been there. She had been the girl who was alone; he would not let it happen again.

"Two weeks, if she gets on my goddamm nerves I'm kicking her out"

Then of course, it wasn't only two weeks, nor a month. As the weeks went by, neither of them could go back to when they weren't together, on the same house, on the same space, on the same bed. She was soft-spoken, gentle with those who knew her well enough, she was smart and kind and easygoing, just as she was funny, she had a witty sense of humour and sometimes a dumb silly one like Ellie's. She had a killer smile and bright eyes with long lashes adorning them, when she kissed him, her lashes would tickle his cheeks. He was too drunk on her; taken by her laugh, her voice, her moans... Taken even by the tiny and not so tiny scars spreaded across her body that seemed to have nice shapes, Joel liked to trace them all and connect them in different patterns. Sometimes she'd fall fast asleep as soon as Joel started touching her, however somedays it would take a little more to get her to sleep. On rough days like that morning, she was restless, mortified even just thinking about closing her eyes, like if whatever was tormenting her would inevitably reach her in her sleep. On days like that, Joel was a step ahead of that, taking control over her to get her out of her head. It was like a sacred ritual, he would shower with her, help her rub oils and lotions on her body, he would dressed her and untangle her hair carefully. Sometimes he would convince her to eat or to sleep, depending on the situation, but most times Joel would spend the rest of the night making her feel as safe as he could; hugging her, singing to her, sometimes fucking her the way she asked him to. Whatever would make her feel loved.

Even though most days she would be the one to do that for him.

They had gone together outside, the patrol seemed to be going well, easy. They were in a group of four with Tommy and and a kid who had just turned eighteen, they were showing him a route, the safety houses and where to hide the guns and provisions; it was fine, she looked happy to be outside Jackson for a change. Until those fucking raiders thought it was a good idea to take her from him, it -she- slipped from Joel's hands in a blink. But then just as fast as he lost her, he got her back to him.

By dinnertime the four of them were riding back into town, both Joel and his girl cover in blood. Tommy and the kid were both as pale as a ghost but intact, harmles; Joel had done it all. "Just take her home, get cleaned up. You did what you had to." Tommy grabbed the saddles of their horses and covered her with his own Jacket, avoiding the prying eyes on them. Joel nodded at his brother and guided the younger girl back to his home, their home.

"What the fuck happened?!" Ellie jumped out of her skin at the sight of them, getting up from her sit and putting down the guitar to open the door with shaky hands.

"I'm okay, Ellie. It's okay, the blood isn't ours" Joel heard her say, of course the first thing she said after almost dying was to comfort someone else. Because she was just that kind.

"I'll help her get clean. You think you could get her something to eat?" Joel asked Ellie with a trembling voice, once you were inside your bedroom waiting for the bath to fill up.

"Of course, you okay?" Ellie scanned him, her worried expression betraying the fake confidence in her voice.

"I think so, I'm sorry we scared you. I got scared too"

"It's fine, I'll bring something to eat and give you guys some space. I was going to Dina's if that's okay"

"Thank you, kiddo"

The bath happened with no more commotion, quietly they both calmed down, the hot water helping them release the tension they were holding. "Can you brush my hair?" She asked once he was done rubbing the body lotion all over her body, despite being a twenty year old lotion, the vainilla scent lingered nicely on her skin. Joel put her on one of his shirts, it was old and it smelt like him, but it was warm and comfortable enough to get her to sleep.

"Of course, sweet girl" He whispered, taking the brush in his huge hand. "You have to eat something, though"

"I'm exhausted. I can't eat"

"I'll let you sleep then"

"Take a nap with me, I need you close."

"Whatever you need, honey"

The next morning when Joel woke she was still soundly asleep, the cold autumn weather making her look cozy under the warm duvet, and her messy hair covering her face filled his chest with pure emotion. Her soft snores putting his mind at ease, she was alive and safe next to him. Joel could feel her warmth, her heartbeat, her breathing; he could feel her.

"Wake up, Belle." He whispered softly, tucking a few strands of rebel hair behind her ear. "C'mon my sweet girl. I need you to eat something"

"I was having a dream. A really good one" her croaked voice made him smile wider, she kept her eyes closed but her body was moving now, her arms looking for him and wrapping around his broad shoulders to get him closer.

"Yeah? Was I in it?" Joel taunted playfully as his fingers caressed the soft skin of her stomach.

"Mhm, between my legs. You were licking me clean, I'm so horny now" Her voice was breathless and Joel dared to move the duvet to peak at her almost naked body. Her perky nipples showing through the old shirt's fabric and the soaked panties grabbing his attention instantly.

"You want me to eat your pussy, my sweet Belle?" His cock pulsed at the thought of tasting her, she had never let him. Their relationship still too new to let herself be so exposed, it was one of the many things he had yet to show her. And even though Joel never pressured her, fuck, he was dying to have a taste.

"Please, Joel" she mewled desperately into his neck. How could he say no?

He kissed her face first, light little kisses pressed all over her. Then Joel moved unhurriedly to take off her shirt and down her body to pull off the panties he had dressed her on the night before, he kissed her on the stomach, and then a little lower, and then lower, until he was kissing her clit, softly and sweet. Barely brushing his lips against her, Joel kissed her cunt again, taking time to give attention to every part of it. Enjoying the soft cries falling from her lips. Satisfied with how wet she was, Joel dragged his raspy tongue between her folds making her jump in surprise and pleasure, soon enough he was sucking and open mouth kissing all of her.

Her legs were open wide, resting on his shoulders and her breathing was heavy and unsteady. He stuck his tongue inside her, and licked upward, his calloused fingers finding her clit to press sloppy circles on it, until she was sobbing for him. Belle was a patient girl, always trusting Joel to coax her into her orgasms, but suddenly she felt greedy, her whole body burning for more of him. She looked for her own release pressing her pussy down onto his tongue, into his face and grinding desperately. Joel took his hand away from her core and reached up to grab her breasts to pull her down harder into his mouth, his perfect nose bumping sinfully down her clit overstimulating her enough to not miss his fingers.

"Joel, I'm so close. I need your cock" He obliged, rushing to freeing his hardness from his tight boxers and pushing her legs open wide to slid into her. She was fully awake now, staring at him with teary eyes full of lust and pure adoration. As he entered her slowly, they both cried out without looking away from eachothers eyes, Joel and her being both on the edge, held one another tightly, moaning and crying for eachother.

It felt as if they were out of their bodies, everything was unexisting, unreal. It was just Joel and Belle. Fuck the rest. It was perfect like that. Soon enough, after only a few thrust, she came hard. Her muscles contracting painfully and her body twitching and trembling under him, a few tears slipping down her flushed cheeks. Joel was sure his back was a sight to see, all scratched from her high.

"Need to- need to pull out" Joel whimpered, not being able to recognise his own broken voice. Her pulsing core only pushing him closer.

"Cum on my pussy" She whined as he pulled away from her. Joel got on his knees close enough to grab her small softer hand and guide her to his twitching cock. Splitting her legs further, she grabbed his member, her own hand covered by his and moving it up and down at his own rhythm.

"Fucking hell, you're so fucking filthy. My pretty Belle, all mine. Those bastards wish they were me... Fuckfuckfuck" Joel was rambling, making her stroke faster and harder as the first drops of precum slipped between their fingers.

"I'm all yours, only yours"

Her words were enough to break him. A loud grunt filling the room as the white thick liquid splutter all over her puffy cunt. Giving Joel a soft squeeze, she let go of him when he winced in overstimulation. Once she got her hand away, Joel dropped his body next to her, immediately wrapping her in a tight hug.

"Are you okay? You need anything?" He asked, gently. His face buried in her neck and only coming out to steal kisses every few seconds.

"I'm perfectly happy, you make me so happy" she giggled making him chuckle with her and smile with his full teeth. "I only need you for now, let's just stay here for a little longer. Can we?"

"Whatever you want, my sweet Belle."

She was his, and for as long as he could. Joel would keep her safe.

[dee-morris]

An Overdue Rant and a Christmas Fic

I wrote this Hallmark AU last December. It was supposed to be a jokey little one-shot, but man it ate my brain. My average daily word count is 500-1k words a day, and I think I was doing 2k to 5k a day until it was done. I couldn't fuckin stop, and it was glorious.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43616245/chapters/109670092

This is very important to me, because I came to fanfic like a dying traveler comes to an oasis. After the pandemic I became deeply depressed and I developed chronic writer's block. Marketing was an uphill slog, and not being able to go out and socialize at events made it unbearable. When I did go out, the anxiety I felt about COVID made it not fun. I wasn't sure if I was ever going to write again.

Writing fanfiction was a welcome reprieve from all that: no deadlines! No SEO! No depressingly tiny royalty statements! Positive reinforcement with no dollar signs attached! So it was nice, it was fun, but I didn't really get my groove back until I wrote HallMark. That wasn't just fun. That was drive. That was passion. And it was glorious.

After it was done and posted, I couldn't forget about it. I had to know what it was about that story that grabbed me by the brain cells like that. So I went back and read it again, and I read the comments (thank you all kind people you're the best), and I realized that it was about Aziraphale and Crowley, but it was really about my feelings towards how children are raised.

*I'm not going to completely spoil the fic here, but feel free to go read it before we get further bc I'm about to discuss some thematic elements.*

Crowley is raising the Antichrist to be the destroyer of worlds on the surface, but underneath it he cares about the world, and he cares about Adam too. And that is the side of him that Adam responds to, and why he turns out the way he does. And that's what parents don't understand about children. They are only kind of listening to your words. What they respond to, and what nurtures them, is your behavior towards them and towards the world you're raising them in. If you tell your kid that Jesus loves everyone and we should help the poor, but you vote for people who will cut welfare bc you think you'll get a tax break and a new boat, your kid sees you. If you tell your kid that it's a sin to judge others but you glare at a tall woman going into the ladies room bc you think she might be trans, your kid sees you. They might grow up to be an asshole or they might grow up to think that you're one, but either way you lose.

And if you tell your kid that his destiny is to destroy the world and that living things are fit only to be ground under his heels, but you make him sandwiches and worry about him when he's out of your sight and buy him stupid Christmas crap because it makes him happy, your kid might not turn out as evil as you thought.

(don't actually tell your kid he's the Antichrist, btw, this fic is hyperbole for symbolic thematic purposes and not a parenting guide)

Anyway, my point is if you love your kid and treat him right, if you treat other people right, and give him a stable home and maybe a dog if you can afford it, he'll probably turn out pretty much okay. The rest is just flavor.

Parents stress too much about things that don't matter, but it's not our fault. You have to run the gauntlet a couple of times before you can filter out stuff that matters from stuff that doesn't, because the books and guides and parenting classes will just try to scare you about everything. Let me assure you that your baby does not give two shits if you feed with breast or bottle. But your child will remember whether you were happy, and whether you took pleasure in their presence in your life.

So what sucked me in about this fic was the reversal of what I've seen in the real world. My brain conjured a fantasy of someone who's a good parent despite themselves, instead of a bad parent with a church habit and a fat bank account. Of course I had to bring that fantasy into the world. It's how things become real.

[tiffcore]

tw: au Eden but he acts the same. He's a dog lol. Implied noncon

contractor Eden.

an Eden who unapologetically exists within society selfishly. he who has the skill and experience to get himself into good jobs, but none of the interpersonal skill, the wherewithal nor the care to spare proper attention to detail. he's crass and rude and talks shit about your decorations when you invite him in for tea.

but he can always be a whole helluva lot ruder. hes a big guy, naturally the intimidating type, and paired with his brooding demeanor, its no surprise he's not popular.

but hes the only one that could get this job done! the installation needs to be as perfect as you imagine it in your head, and hes the only guy near or far in this backwater town that has the expertise you need.

he's weird though. doesn't want to discuss payment until after the work is finished. doesnt send you an invoice like your regular guys do, just works until the sun sets and relucantly joins you for hot tea every now and again, watching you flit about the kitchen as you prepare him a cup.

and what a gracious host you are.

you break every other silence, coming up with a question or five, an anecdote about your pretty life, several comments on his poor graces, the coffee on his shirt, dirt in his hair.

"And how'd you reckon I'd go about fixing that?" He quirks a brow barely, the impassiveness of his expression overshadowing his intrigue in your interest, teacup held up by one burly finger.

you're balancing a bowl on your hip and stirring something it he can't see. Doesn't stop it from smelling good as hell though. Or maybe it's the oven that's on, warm brown and red glow rising behind the glass at the heat intensifies.

"I have a shower in the shed outside. I propose that after work, you clean up, and I'll wash your clothes. Your boots dry outside and I clean those too, yes? Keep you from getting my floors all dirty, because you can't stand taking your boots off." You bustle about in your little apron and Eden can't help but think of how cute you are when you blather.

Uppitiness is a fitting look on you. So is gingham.

Your dress flatters your figure (stretches across your ass so nice, you bend over and it's really like pow! all up in his face,) and when he leans forward it's not because he's sipping tea.

You'd make such a sweet lil spouse.

Would be good for company, easy enough to keep on the house, with your small stature n' all. He'd keep you barefoot when he could, do all the farm work for you, come home to a hot meal and thank you with a hot load.

You're ox-dull, too. Letting him work without mentioning price is like trusting a lone kid in a candy store. But he won't pretend extorting you isn't the one thing he's been most eager about since taking on the assignment

Towards the end of the month, he finally has a sit down with you, under the guide of discussing your payment.

He makes it a little too steep, just to see you sweat a little.

Then he sweetens you up, reassures you that, no, one installation shouldn't put you out of house and home.

He pretends to think so hard about it, while you're busy checking your books to see if you have the kind of finances to give what he's asking for. But even if you did, he wouldn't take it.

Then he lets it come to him! Snaps his fingers like he's an epiphany or seen the edge of nirvana. Stopping your puffy red eyes from spilling the tears you've been threatening him with. You're cute, but not so much so you could cry your way out of his perfect, loving arms.

You really can't either. Because you do cry when he starts bending you over the table, strength unlike anything a man should be able to posesses. He can hold both your hands down with one wrist, and even when you beg, and you plead, and kick and scream.

He does not budge.

He smacks you so sharply it feels like your ears pop.

"What happened to all that hospitality from earlier, hun? I quite liked that about you...." He leans so close to you. Can smell the Earl grey lingering on his breath.

"Maybe you just need a man to teach you some manners."

[championleonsslut]

Got anything for a yandere Leon like headcanons or a fic?

OHOHOHO ANON THE CAN OF WORMS YOU HAVE OPENED

Yandere Leon

WARNINGS: kidnapping, Stockholm syndrome, kinda nsfw, murder, manipulation. Reader is female

DONT DO THIS IN REAL LIFE ITS REALLY BAD KIDS

Leon gets what he wants. He always does eventually. He’s the champion.

And what he wants right now is you. The prettiest girl in all of Galar according to him. So sweet, so kind, so clever, so good with Pokemon.

He’s madly in love with you, even though you guys are only friends. There’s just one problem.

The boyfriend.

Leon has some competition in his way, as you’ve told him over and over again how madly in love with this man you are. Leon has to watch him kiss you and make you giggle. Disgusting! You should be in his arms, kissing his lips instead.

He draws the line when you tell who you think is a good friend that you want to give your boyfriend your virginity.

So Leon “runs” into your boyfriend in the Wild area, and challenges him to a Pokemon battle with Charizard. Your poor boyfriend… Charizard just… burned him right up! What a freak accident! Naturally Leon deposes of the body before anyone stumbles upon it. He throws it into a cave, careful to keep his fingerprints off it.

His body is found a few days later, and it’s all over the news. You come running into Leon’s arms, crying your pretty little eyes out. Leon pretends to be all upset and comforts you as you cry.

That’s when Leon starts the manipulation. He starts twisting your brain to see him in a better light, to maybe even fall in love with him.

And it works! From what he can tell, you have a crush on him. Finally. Now he can begin the second step of his plan.

He decks out a room in his private penthouse just for you, and breaks into your apartment that night. The house is peaceful, and you’re wearing such short shorts and such a short shirt while you sleep peacefully… how is Leon supposed to resist you?

He sees you sleeping with your mouth open, and pops a few pills in there. He helps you swallow them too, how sweet. Those will make sure you stay unconscious for the next few hours.

And once he makes sure you’re out cold, he lunges his new prize over his shoulder, and carries you out to the car to rest peacefully in the back seat.

You awake in a very strange place. You don’t remember being here. Then Leon appears, to welcome you to your new home! You put two and two together and start screaming at him for kidnapping you, but he doesn’t bat an eye. He says once you’ve calmed down and gotten used to the place, your restrictions can be lifted.

And just like that he’s gone.

Your room is nice to say the least… he made sure to decorate it to your tastes. A large king sized bed, bookshelves, a desk, a video game system, anything else that may have interested you…

And of course a massive closet filled with all sorts of clothes… but especially lingerie. The sluttiest cuts you’ve ever seen! You even spied a few sex toys in the drawers…

Leon brings you fresh food and water very often, making sure you’re well kept. You’re still mad at him for kidnapping you, but pleased he’s taking care of you so well.

You eventually ask him why, and your suspicions are confirmed.

“Oh, love. Well I couldn’t let anyone else have you, now could I? You were made for me! So I had to start keeping you here… so I could have you all to myself. We’re meant to be together, don’t you know?”

At first you reject him, and he’s disappointed, but just thinks you need more time. So he gives you more time, and manipulates you more, until you finally tell him you love him after countless nights of being denied.

That’s when you gain a bit of freedom. Now you’re allowed to walk around the entire penthouse! Leon officially starts calling you his girlfriend too, and takes your virginity on a night you chose to wear lingerie for him.

You stay happily cooped up in his apartment for about a year, while still taking good care of yourself, before he finally sets you free. He knows you won’t leave his side, and you’ll always come home, but now you can start leaving the penthouse… as long as you always come back. (Which you do!)

After being his precious little darling for a few years, he presents you with a beautiful ring one night, and asks you to be his queen. Of course you say yes, and reward him that night with the lewd pleasure he loves to get out of you.

The wedding is wonderful, and he’s so glad to finally have you as his bride. Stolen, maybe. But his nonetheless. You’re a wonderful wife to him, no matter if you stay at home or have a career of your own.

But a few years into your marriage, Leon wants a little more than just you. He wants you to bear his children. Of course you say yes! Actually, you say yes many times, as you two end up having five little babies of your own.

A girl, another girl, a boy and a girl (TWINS!) and another boy.

Your children and husband are the lights of your life, just the way Leon has always wanted it.

Becuase you belong to him.

I’m totally willing to go into heavy detail about the five children you have with Leon just fyi