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covetyou · 6 months

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the best of you, honey, belongs to me

part 1 ⋆ part 2 ⋆ part 3 ⋆ part 4 ⋆ part 5

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) chapter warnings: dub con, unprotected P in V, oral (f receiving), creampie, choking, spanking, mild praise kink, potential assault, derogatory names (slut), drug reference, unspecified age gap. word count: 5.5k chapter summary: Joel Miller is an asshole. An asshole and a liar. Right?

A/N: HOLY SHIT I DID IT I FINISHED SOMETHING. I did it Ma!

Thank you all so much for sticking with me this month. Your support has been silly lovely and I genuinely love you all a little bit.

Ty to @iamasaddie and @jupiter-soups for being the first people to cheer me on from the sidelines. You both made me excited about my own writing, which feels weird but I'm very grateful to you.

I hope you like it, thank you, goodbye, see you soon, I love you.

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song: NFWMB by Hozier

Joel Miller was a massive fucking liar, you'd realized.

You probably would have been able to guess that before, but as you were stood here, back pushed against a brick wall in an alleyway, it was clear as day.

You'd been dragged down here by two men - a small rat like one and a taller one with a mean look on his face - and thrown against the wall. Your back smarted, and you tried to reason with them, but they were tugging at your clothes and threatening you before you could think of anything useful to say.

They were torn off you as quick as they were on you.

And now, heavy fists were pounding into them, beating into their faces and stomachs as they slouched pathetically against the brick opposite. Joel had found you, somehow noticed in a crowd of people that you were suddenly gone. He had someone with him, they looked similar enough that they could have been family, and both were beating into the men that had dragged you down the alley.

A yelled threat and the two men were hobbling away, beaten and bloody and holding onto themselves in their retreat.

"You okay?"

You're looking at Joel, so it takes a second to register that the other man is addressing you. You slowly turn to him - definitely related - and nod. You're stunned and a little winded more than anything.

Joel is flexing his fist, staring daggers at you. His companion doesn't say another word to you, but you hear him talk in hushed tones to Joel, before Joel mutters something back to him and he walks away.

You should probably be more scared of being alone down an alley with Joel Miller than the other two guys but, though it confuses you, you feel safer than ever. He'd protected you, saved you, and that's how you knew that Joel Miller was a fucking liar.

"C'mon," he growls to you, walking away and expecting you to follow. Of course, you follow, even through the low lying anger and frustration that's still simmering in your belly.

As you walk behind, you watch as he clenches his fist and flexes his hands over and over. Before you know it you're outside his apartment block, being roughly dragged up the stairs by a heavy hand on your arm, dragged down a corridor and deposited in front of his front door. He doesn't look at you as he fishes his key out from an inner pocket on his coat.

"Saw you fuckin' lookin' at me, I told you not to do that shit," he says angrily, throwing you into his apartment and slamming the door closed behind you.

"They hurt you?" You shake your head. "They touch you?" You shake your head again.

His nostrils flair. You can almost hear the bones in his hands creak from how hard he's clenching his fists.

And so you poke the fucking bear again, because what is there to lose. You'd spent all week mulling it over, getting angrier and angrier as you talked yourself in circles. He didn't like you and you definitely didn't like him. You didn't want to kiss him, but also you did. Neither of you cared, but maybe both of you did. Everything was feeling like a lie and all you wanted was the truth. So you poke, bracing yourself for impact.

"You're a liar," you whisper, pulling at the sleeves of your coat.

His eyes immediately snap to yours, and he's making quick work of the distance between you. He's toe to toe with you when he stops, looking down at you, fists still firmly clenched at his sides.

"What did you fuckin' say to me?"

You swallow before you speak again, meek as a mouse but a fire in your belly. "You're a liar. You said you wouldn't look out for me."

"S'that why you kept lookin'? S'that why you got yourself in trouble? To prove some fuckin' point?"

You frown at him - it hadn't been intentional. You were glaring at him when they grabbed you, stuffing a gloved hand over your mouth to keep your scream from being heard. The people around you didn't care, didn't stop what they were doing or go for help. They just left you. But Joel came anyway.

"You think I asked for that?" you say, trying to keep your voice from cracking. You never have and never will cry in front of this man, not like this anyway. You watch as his mouth curls to sneer at you, the fire turning into a sick feeling bubbling up through your belly as you watch his lip raise.

You don't know what comes over you, but you push at his chest, wanting to touch him and get him away from you in equal measure. It takes him by surprise, the force of your push making him stumble back.

You both stare at each other, unmoving for a beat, both shocked that you'd dare to touch him let alone push him. You think maybe you should run, get away before he gets you, but your reactions are slower than his, and you're raising your arms to protect yourself as he makes one big stride over to you.

The blow doesn't come.

He's pulling at your coat, jerking it down your arms, before tugging at the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head. It gets caught, and you hear a tear as it catches on your arm, but he keeps pulling anyway. The fabric splits from your body, tattered and ruined as it's discarded on the floor.

"You think I would fuckin' hit you?" he says angrily as he tugs at the rest of your clothes. "You think I would fuckin' hurt you in any way you don't want?"

You have no time to answer before he's manhandling you again, pushing you roughly into his room.

He pushes you forward onto his bed, bending you over and holding you there as he reaches around and tugs at your zipper. You fight to stand, but the weight of his hand keeps you in place as he pulls your pants and panties down in one, leaving them around your knees so you can't run to escape even if you wanted to. Any thought that you could, should, run is already gone. You don't want to, not any more. Whatever he wants to do, whatever anger he has for you, you want it. You want to feel his anger, you want it to burn into yours until you combust.

A hand claps down on your ass and you feel the sting ripple up your back. He wanted that one to hurt, and it did. Another sharp slap hits your other cheek soon after, the sting of pain made worse by your cold skin, but you're glad for it because you wanted that one to hurt too.

Both his hands rub across your cheeks, drawing a groan from you as he massages them and soothes the sting before rough fingers pull you apart. He always did like looking.

He wastes no time in plunging his wet tongue into your pussy from behind, Joel's hands yanking your pants down the to your feet to spread you open further for him. "You're fuckin' dripping," he says between breaths as you push back into his face.

"You this wet from those guys?" You don't answer, so he slaps a hand down on your ass again.

"Fuckin' answer me."

"N-no. M'not wet from them."

"Then why," he says, breathing deeply as he devours your pussy, the cold of his nose tickling your hole as the scruff on his jaw scratches at your inner thighs. "Tell me. Tell me why this needy fuckin' pussy is so wet."

"Because of you," you push your face down into his bed, biting at his sheets as his tongue swipes over your clit, already so sensitive your legs are shaking. You arch your back, exposing more of your cunt to his relentless tongue. There's no question or thread of shame in your mind why you like this - why you're already so close to coming undone just from him being an asshole and playing with your pussy.

"Me, huh? Little hole's desperate for me? Look at her cryin' out to be stuffed full, drippin' all over the place."

You couldn't help the drip of slick from your cunt, or the way his words always worked to make it worse. You knew you were a mess, but by now you knew he liked it, even if he taunted you for it. You felt how his grasping hands got firmer, saw as his cock got harder, just at the sight of your glistening pussy.

Two of his thick fingers are pushing into you, the cold feel of them startling you as they slide home. You'd spent a week thinking of his fist buried in your cunt, but his fingers still felt so thick, so much, plunged into your dripping wet heat as they were.

"If you make a mess on my sheets I'll rub your fuckin' nose in it. Act like an animal I'll treat you like one."

If you were an animal, he was fucking feral - a snarling, growling, feral animal of a man that you just couldn't resist.

His fingers curl, dragging against your walls harshly as his tongue slides against your clit again, swirling around the stretched rim where his fingers are embedded in you, tasting you, before slurping at your clit once more. You grind your hips back against his face, trying to get more friction on your clit as he fucks you with his fingers. They're warmed now, the burning heat from your cunt drawing the chill from his bones.

The wet squelch in your cunt is obscene as he laps at your clit, drawing you so close already, your feet still tangled in your pants and your moans muffled by the push of your face into his sheets.

Joel's fingers are gone just as your orgasm starts to raise its head over the horizon, ruining any high you were so close to getting. You slam your fist down on the bed in frustration, ignoring his gruff laugh as you muffle your fuck into his bed. His knees crack as he stands, undoing his belt and pulling his cock from his pants. He doesn't stroke himself, he doesn't need to, he just squeezes himself at the base, lines himself up with your hole and pushes forward.

A strangled moan pulls from your chest as he sheathes himself, pulling your hips back flush with his as his cock impales you in one movement.

"Fuck, if this pussy don't just love this dick."

He draws back slowly, pulling any slick from your cunt back with him, coating himself in you, before slamming back to the hilt.

"Uhh, f-fuck."

You feel him draw back again, holding himself back from you, tip barely inside your cunt, teasing himself at your entrance. Before he can, you push back onto his cock, taking him in with a deep moan.

He stifles a groan, fingers digging into your hips, pinching the flesh in his grip. You try to move, to fuck yourself on his length, but his grip won't let you. You can feel him throb inside you, and you hope he's already close to coming, that he wants you that much he can barely hold himself back.

The thought is gone as soon as he starts pulling back again and thrusting forward quickly, repeatedly slamming his hips into your ass and pulling you back onto him. The sharp slap of his hips and wet squelches of your pussy are muffled only by your moans and Joel's shaky breathing.

"Tell me - you fuck anyone else - like this," you say through staccato gasps as his cock collides with your cervix. "If you say you do - I'll know - you're even more of a - fucking liar."

He throws you forward, pulling out and standing glaring down at you when you twist to look at him, finally able to kick your pants and shoes off your feet.

"You think you're special?" he growls. You take him in, his massive figure stood there still clothed, cock hanging lewdly from his pants and covered in your slick. You want to lick it, taste your own pussy on his cock and catch the drip of precum from his tip before it's wasted.

"No. I'm not. And neither are you," you spread your legs as you say it, willing him to come back, to start fucking you again, but not daring to ask for it. "You're an asshole. I just like that you make me feel good."

"Feeling's mutual, sweetheart." He's pouncing on you before you can process it, yanking his shirt over his head before pulling your spread thighs across his clothed ones, notching at your entrance and sliding straight back in.

You thud back down onto the bed with the force of his cock fucking into you, staring up at him with an open mouth, panting as he starts to cant into you once again. His hands are holding your thighs against his as he rocks so deeply into you you think you can see your lower belly pulse with each movement.

His hands slide down your thighs, pulling you apart where his cock joined with you, swiping a thumb up the slick gathered there and rubbing it around your clit in rough circles. You reach down, hand trying to meet his and hold him there, but he swats you away. You move further instead, grabbing at the waistband of his pants and tugging down, slipping them over his ass before he's pushing you back again. Your fingers drag across his abdomen as you fall back again, watching a shudder crawl through him with the graze of your fingertips.

You try not to smile when his hand falls from you and shimmies his pants further down his legs, over his knees and kicking them off the end of the bed whilst still buried in you. You can see all of him again now, his broad shoulders, dark nipples, the trail of hair down to his cock where it disappears inside you. His thick thighs, spread almost as lewdly as yours, dusted in hair, the muscles flexing with each rock into you. He doesn't look at you as you drink him in, eyes focused on your cunt as he pulls you back open.

He spits down onto your clit. You whine when it collides with your skin and starts to trickle down your spread pussy. You whine again when his thumb draws it up and around your clit, massaging it into you, each swipe of his thumb jerking your swollen nub and bringing you closer to coming undone as he pounds you hard into his mattress.

You throw your head back with the feeling of it all, moaning loudly into the open room.

"You'd let me do anythin' to you, huh."

"Yeah," you admit, head still thrown back and eyes closed. You would, you couldn't even say why, just that you knew you would. That for all the pain at the end of the world, this was a pain that was worth it, a stretch that made you ache in the right ways, the sting of his palm that electrified you, made you feel alive.

"You're just beggin' for me to slap your pussy pink again, ain't you? Fill that pretty little asshole up with my cum. Wear you like a fuckin' glove." He's growling, muttering obscene things to you, things you both know to be true. "You'd let me fuck you anyway I want, even share you with whoever I want."

You nod, stupidly bobbing your head along with the rhythm of him sliding into you.

"This pussy is mine," he growls. "Say it."

"Yours!" you pant, you didn't want it to be anyone elses any more, what was the point when he'd ruined you for anyone else. "M'yours!" Fuck.

"All o' you? That's more than I even asked for sweetheart."

And he's falling forward over you, hands planting either side of your head for leverage as he pounds into you harder than he ever has, abandoning your clit just as you were about to fall apart underneath him yet again. Any words to correct yourself are gone as you groan, pulling your brows together and watching him. His face relaxes and contorts over and over, sweat beads at his temples. You know his hair would feel damp if only you would reached up to touch it.

He shifts to his elbows, the sweat from his chest and belly mingling with yours, making your bodies slick as they slide together. You watch his mouth open as he pants, the heat of his breath on your face cooling the sweat dripping down your neck. You can smell him, see every imperfection of his skin in such detail that you're struck dumb, angry, and desperate all in one swoop. Something so close still feels so far away, and a frustrated sob is bubbling from you before you can stop it.

Something inside you snaps with that. You'd be chasing it for weeks, denied something you hadn't even dared to ask for.

You grab him by the throat as his hips roll into you, gasping out a breath before you grit your teeth and say it, forcing him to look directly at you.

"Fucking kiss me."

He laughs in your face and you fight down the shame for even daring to ask for something you wanted, something you deserved. "Is that what you want?"

You nod, squeezing his throat beneath your fingertips.

He pulls back from you - you want to claw at him and hold him to you but he pushes your hand against his throat with his own. He looks down between you, your pussy creaming around his cock and swollen clit twitching with each thrust.

You tighten the grip on the sides of his throat, feeling the hard thud of blood through his veins at your fingertips, drawing his eyes back to yours.

"Fuck, that's it, sweetheart."

He suddenly throws your arm down from his neck, pinning both if your hands down as he puts his weight on top of you.

"That what you want?" he grits out. "That what you keep coming back for? Thought you were whoring yourself out for pills, not a fuckin' kiss. Are you that fuckin' desperate?"

He's goading you, you know he is. Still, you want to scream at him, but his face is close to yours now, so terrifyingly close you could kiss him by accident if you weren't careful. Suddenly you're terrified of it, desperate but terrified.

His aquiline nose slides up the side of your face, and you stop breathing. "You want this?"

"Please." You'll be angry at yourself for begging later, right now you'd say anything if it meant he'd finally give it to you.

He drags his nose across your face, rubs his nose against yours. He's practically still inside you now, the shallow rock of his hips the only movement either of you are making. "You sure?"

"Please," you whisper again, breath ghosting across his lips. You try not to move your mouth too much, barely muttering the word in case your mouth touches his. His own breath huffs against your mouth, teasing you with the taste of him.

"S'all you want, huh?"

"Mm." He's so close you don't trust yourself to speak.

His nose nuzzles into yours, the hair on his face tickling at your sensitive top lip. Then you feel it, the bow of his top lip swiping against yours, not kissing just feeling.

You're frozen, terrified to move, terrified to feel what you've been desperate for for months.

But you made it through the worst days at the end of the world. What was fear any more except another lie.

You press your lips forward, done with waiting, done with being patient, done with putting others first. You want it so badly that finally, finally, you take it.

At the first press of your lips to his, he releases your wrists, sliding his hand down the curve of your body to hold you to him. You moan into his mouth, blinking back angry tears as you wrap your own hand around his neck to pull him in further. At first he doesn't move against you, letting you kiss the soft swell of his mouth, but when you slip your tongue against his bottom lip and breathe him in, his mouth opens and his lips press to yours, giving back everything you're taking.

"This all you wanted this whole time?" he whispers against your mouth.

"Not all I wanted," you mumble. Your eyes are closed, head dizzy from breathing so deeply, from finally doing the thing you'd literally only dreamed of.

"No?"

"No," you swallow before continuing, the shame of admission gone now. What shame could there even be when it was so obvious. You open your eyes just as you speak. "I wanted all of it."

"Yeah?" You think from the look on his face that he needed to hear it as much as you needed to say it, so you kiss him again, just because you can.

He presses his hips into you harder, making you gasp straight into his mouth, the sharp pressure of his cock so much with the fuzzy high in your head. He does it again, kissing you of his own volition this time and swallowing your moan down as he starts fucking you again, one hand settling in your hair as the other wanders your body. You can still taste the salty sweetness of your own pussy on his mouth as you lick into him.

Your own hand dances with his over your body, teasing your own nipples and stroking down, down, until you push your hand between your bodies and feel between your legs. You're a mess, sweat and the wetness from your pussy merged together to create a slip and slide of slick as he slides his cock into your tender hole. You stroke at the base of him and feel another shudder work its way through his body before you move your hand back to yourself, circling your own clit as he rocks his length into you.

"You gonna make yourself come on my cock?" he says, looking down where your hand strokes at your clit. You nod, lips brushing his, capturing him in another kiss as you moan, so close already.

"Good fuckin' girl. You rub that pretty pussy. She just fuckin' loves this dick." True.

His cock in your pussy, his hands in your hair, holding your body, your own hand strumming your clit with well practiced movements, the feeling of his lips on your own. It's all so much so quickly, everything you've been craving for so long, that the fire in your body burns so bright it explodes out of every pore before you can hold it off.

"F-fuck, Joeeel."

You come with a cry, every part of your body shuddering and convulsing, hand twitching over your own cunt as you desperately try to keep the high going as long as you can, until you're so sensitive all you can do is grip your own thigh, your nails creating half moons in the soft flesh.

"You're all mine, huh?" he says gently, still inside you now as he feels your walls pulse and twitch around him. You nod, floating from his kisses and your own high. "No one else gonna touch this pussy. S'all mine."

"S'yours."

"Needy, needy, pussy," he grunts into your mouth, as your cunt quivers around him, an aftershock pulled from you at just his words and the rasp of his coarse hair against your clit.

It hits you then, for all he called you needy you never actually asked for what you wanted, what you needed. You never took it either. Not until now. But he always did.

"I think you're just as needy as I am," you whisper.

He clicks his tongue and cocks his head. "I never said I wasn't, sweetheart."

A quick shuffle of his knees later he's pounding into you with abandon, your cunt had barely stopped throbbing by the time he started again.

"Ohhhh, god."

You don't move to kiss him again, he's chasing whatever high he needs now and you let him take it, back arching, moaning as he pounds away, cock slipping inside you with ease. The hand in your hair pulls harder, tugging your head back. You think this is going to be it, he's going to come inside you like this, but then wet kisses are being peppered across your neck and collar bone, his moans sounding more like those of a common whore than his usual grunts.

You want to come again already, so you grip him tight, hands roaming from your body to his arms, his shoulders. Your nails claw at him, pulling him closer and pushing him away, trying to tear him apart with your bare hands as he fucks you.

He moves quicker still, head buried in the crook of your neck as he holds onto you and slams home over and over. You think he's almost there - hope he is because how much more screaming can your voice take before it breaks - when he's yanking your hair again. His mouth latches to your own in a sloppy kiss, tongue fighting with yours and his cock squelching into the wet heat of your pussy as he comes undone, groaning into your mouth, shuddering, fucking ropes of thick cum into your empty cunt and never stilling for a second.

His hips stop bucking against yours before his mouth does. He kisses you softer, groaning, slowing down to catch his breath before he finally removes his lips from yours with a shuddering gasp, screwing his eyes shut.

Cum practically gushes out of you when he pulls out, and you expect him to get up and leave like he has every time before. He doesn't. Instead, he rests his head next to yours, kissing your shoulder, the warmth of his body encasing yours.

Your face finds his, nudging against his jaw. He shifts, letting you in, and your mouth finds his again. You kiss him until you turn to liquid, sighing deeply and tracing soft patterns on his skin and your own with your fingertips.

Eventually, he releases your hair, and you think the moment is truly over. But then he rolls over, flopping down next to you, the weight of him dipping the mattress and making you shift closer to his side. He closes his eyes, putting an arm behind his head, and you take the chance to look down at his naked body, his cock now soft between his legs.

The feeling that bubbles up through you rips out of your mouth in a laugh. Joel's eyes fly open, finding yours, making you laugh harder. Tears are falling from your eyes - the absurdity of it all too much to bear. So angry at him, at yourself, for weeks now. Wanting something for so long, something that it turns out you could have just reached out and grabbed. Driving yourself near mad over wanting to be touched in a way you thought he never would, when maybe all along he thought you never wanted it. You're left with nothing but small giggles and an aching belly by the time the feeling bubbles out of you completely.

You wonder how all of this must look to him. How small and naive you must look, just a silly girl giggling in his bed. If he thinks it, he doesn't voice it. He just shakes his head softly and raises an eyebrow at you, as if to ask if you're done.

You lie next to each other in silence after that. He doesn't tell you to leave, and you don't move to either. You just lie there, arms barely touching, sweat drying and cooling both of your bodies.

You'd always been okay with silence, more often than not finding yourself with nothing to say, especially these days. But something in this moment tells you to speak, and so you do, filling the silence with your own voice before the opportunity can be taken from you.

"Thanks for helping me out there," you start softly. "I know you said you wouldn't, and I'm not trying to prove a point I just... Thank you. I was looking at you. I couldn't help it. I've been... angry. At you, yeah, but mostly myself. So I was looking, but I didn't realize it was that much, I swear and I -"

"S'okay," he stops your ramble so simply and quickly you frown, an involuntary tut falls of your mouth. He casts a glance over to you, almost chastising as he continues. "Ain't lyin' when I say it though. You gotta stop lookin' at me. I really can't be lookin' out for you, just got lucky this time. There's assholes bigger than me out there."

"Doubt it," you scoff. He raises an eyebrow and runs his tongue along his teeth, daring you to say more. You don't.

You fiddle with the sheets between you, biting at your cheek and bottom lip, so much more to say but the words just ending up jumbled in your head.

"I wasn't lying either. When I said I want it. All of it." That's a start, you figure.

"You don't want me. I could be anyone."

"Maybe I don't. Never said I did. I just know that I want whatever this is," you gesture between the two of you. Whatever had started as a transaction was clearly more than that now. You enjoyed the feel of him, the way he touched you and talked to you. You enjoyed the escape of it all. It was nice to know another person in the world knew you were there, that you existed, cared about you in some way, even if it was only enough to make sure you came. "Sex was never really any good with anyone else anyway."

"I've got other people I have arrangements with. I've got Tess, I've got -"

"I know. That doesn't matter. I'm not asking you to change. I don't want anything to change. I just want..." you trail off, shrugging. "I just want this for me. I don't care what it is for you, as long as it's good too."

He looks at you, taking you in with curious eyes, working out if what you're saying is true. If really, in this moment here and now, you want this exactly as it is. "I can do that."

You think that he gets it, understands it all more than you could ever explain. The thought of that alone is more comforting than any touch he could give you. It could have been a sweet moment, if that's what you two were. But it's not, and still he ruins it anyway.

"Pussy really is no one else's but mine, huh?" There's an edge to his voice that tells you he's holding back a laugh, and you could fucking hit him.

This time, you do. You relish in the oof that leaves his body as your hand collides with the side of his chest. He catches your wrist before you can land another soft blow, your skin prickling in his firm grip. You know from the feel of his hand and the look in his eye that you'll fuck him again before you leave his apartment today.

It only takes a few minutes for you to prove yourself right. You climb on top of him all soft curves and bouncing tits, hair a mess, face scrunched and jaw relaxed as you ride him, kissing him as much as you've ever wanted. Even when your legs ache, when he starts fucking up into you with each bounce of your hips, you carry on, wanting to take from him again and have him fill you.

He never tells you to leave, but eventually you get up, putting your clothes on, tucking your torn t-shirt around you. You expect your dad will be wondering where you've got to soon.

Joel sits and watches you dress until you're stood fully clothed, looking at him lying nude on his bed, a total contrast to what happened in this room just a week ago.

You think for a moment, waiting as he gets up and walks with you back through his apartment. You take in the last few hours. The last week. The last few months of knowing Joel Miller.

"Joel?"

"Mm."

You look him up and down as you stand in front of his door, still naked as the day he was born. "You're a massive slut, you know that, right?"

He laughs. Full bellied, head back, laughs.

"Takes one to know one, sweetheart," he says with a smirk, winking as he unlatches the front door.

You kiss Joel again as you leave his apartment. He can't stop you now, and you don't think he would ever even try.

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vhagarlovebot · 1 year

Text

JUST A FRIEND TO YOU ── PART 2.

♡. ── gif credit. ; ( aemond targaryen masterlist. )

pairing: modern!aemond x fem!reader and a little bit of cregan stark x fem!reader.

summary: after you agreed to go on the date, aemond realizes what a big mistake he has made.

warnings: pining, aemond regretting all of his life decisions basically and getting what he deserves, and angsty shit bc you know i love to make you all suffer.

note: hi besties! i didn’t wanna do a part two of this one shot but since a lot of you were asking me, i heard you and here you have. and i’m already thinking about writing a part 3? or maybe a mini series? even tho i said i don’t like it. i need help!! btw if there are any mistakes i apologize, but as some of you may know english is not my first language. hope you enjoy! reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated.

read part one here.

YOU REALLY DIDN’T WANT to go on that date but, as always, you couldn’t say no to aemond.

and it turns out, you had fun.

aemond’s girlfriend —or date, or girl friend? you don’t really know— is actually nice and you hate yourself for not being able to dislike her, she’s so freaking sweet that it makes you want to throw up. and as nice as she is, her friend is also very nice and a total gentleman. and also the quarterback of the college footfall team.

cregan stark made you forget all about aemond targaryen in just a couple of minutes with him. he knows how attractive he his and also how to use his charm with girls, because he had you flustered all night. he didn’t do anything more than just smile at you, pay for the dinner and drinks and walk you back to your dorm, kissing you goodnight. on the cheek. and just a couple of minutes after leaving, your phone buzzed with a new message asking for a second date.

but as much as you enjoyed the date, once you were alone with your thoughts your mind wandered back to the last person you wanted to think about.

you knew he was on a date too, he told you it was that day. you didn’t want to know but he told you anyways because you’re his best friend, he wants to share that kind of things with you. but you wish he wouldn’t, that way your heart wouldn’t break every time he opens his mouth.

and as you thought about aemond kissing another girl, you typed your answer to cregan.

when the next day came, you didn’t feel any better.

and it only got worse the second you bumped into aemond outside the coffee shop you were supposed to meet cregan.

“there you are! i’ve been looking for you everywhere.” he says, kissing you on the forehead.

not everywhere because you were in your dorm all day and he never, not once, came looking for you. weird it wasn’t his first option.

“here i am.” you try to sound nonchalant, your lips barely curling upwards.

“aren’t you going to ask me how it went?” aemond looks excited to tell you all about his date and you feel guilty for not wanting to know at all.

“i really want to know,” what a fucking liar you are. “but i can’t right now. maybe tomorrow?” you try convince him with that smile that says ‘pleaaaaaseeeee’ but aemond, for the first time in forever, it’s not convinced. even his smile instantly disappears.

“why?”

but you don’t have time to give him an answer because the answer walks out of the shop, two coffee in each hand and a big and radiant smile that only grows the second you make eye contact. and it’s strange, because your face lights up just by seeing someone that was a total stranger less than 24 hours ago.

“i was starting to think you stood me up.” cregan says, not acknowledging aemond at all, and leans to kiss you on the cheek just to hand you one coffee. “to show you i was paying attention last night.” just by the smell you know he got your coffee order right.

aemond clear his throat and you both turn to face him. your cheeks are impossibly red and you avoid his eyes, choosing to look at your shoes instead.

“oh sorry,” cregan chuckles, and gives aemond a pat on the shoulder. “i’m going to steal her for a while, you okay with that?” you didn’t know you could be any more embarrassed, but it is possible. and you hate it.

aemond nods, looking at you one final time before turning around and walking away, leaving you with a strange and awful feeling in your heart.

but cregan soon makes you forget about almost everything. and it keeps happening for the next couple of weeks. but even him and his friends can’t make you forget about him.

you have barely seen aemond since that day in the coffee shop. you tried to call him the next day to apologize but he only texted you that now he was busy and he would give you a call when he could; but that never happened and since that day your friendship has been reduced to short and cold text messages. and it hurts. but you’re decided to not let another day pass without talking to him. or just seeing him. you miss him and you wonder if he misses you too.

but after trying to communicate with aemond all day, calling him and messaging him over and over again, you give up. he clearly doesn’t want to talk to you and as much as it hurts, it angers you too.

“i’m sure he’s just busy and will call you as soon as he can.” cregan tries to calm you as he walks by your side, his thumb brushing a strand of hair out of your face.

you only nod as an answer, looking at your phone hoping to see a text from aemond.

“hey, look at me.” he stops walking, his hands cupping your face, softly forcing you to look at him. “forget about him and enjoy the party, okay?”

it’s very sweet how he’s always making sure you are fine and listening to you talk about your best friend, not once telling you that he actually doesn’t like the guy.

you thank him by standing on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek, making him chuckle and hold your hand resuming your walk.

the first thing you notice when entering the living room are cregan’s friends drinking and chatting, but what draws your attention the most is aemond. sitting on a couch in a corner, cigarette between his lips as he looks annoyed at you two.

you fight the urge to walk to him. you miss him so much but it looks like he doesn’t miss you at all. he probably hasn’t even think about you. and that’s why you accept the drink cregan hands you, sitting by his side and trying to ignore the pair of blue eyes on you.

unbeknownst to you, aemond hasn’t stopped thinking about you since the day you accepted that date. he really thought you were going to say no and he still doesn’t know why he asked you to do it, but he regrets it so much.

but he also knows how selfish and childish he’s being.

he can't keep his eyes away from you as you laugh about something that has everyone laughing too. but he only can hear your laugh, loud and clear, and it's like a knife cutting through his chest. he wants to talk to you so badly, he has missed you like crazy, but doesn't know how to do it, what to say. he's pretty sure you're going to snap at him.

however, that doesn't stop him from following you when he sees you standing and walking away.

you're pouring some vodka in a cup when he enters the kitchen. his hands are sweating and he feels so nervous it's pathetic.

"so," he says, but you don't look at him, you just keep doing what you are doing. and that makes him even more nervous. "enjoying the party?"

there's a lot of noise, between the loud music and people talking, but the silence coming from you is louder than that.

"i was thinking," aemond says again, trying to make you talk or at least react. "maybe tomorrow we can go watch that movie you told me about."

you laugh and aemond smiles, feeling relief. but then you turn to face him and all that disappears.

"are you serious?" you ask him, but you don't give him time to answer. "that was months ago, i stopped asking you to go with me because you always had an excuse." you shake your head, looking at the liquid in your cup, not wanting to look him in the eyes; it's easier this way. "and when you did say yes, you never showed up."

it's his time to avoid your eyes, looking down embarrassed.

"i don't have time for this, aemond. you wanted me to meet new people? i'm doing exactly that, i don't know what's your problem."

"you don't have time for me." he whispers but you hear it, and your blood boils.

"it doesn't feel nice, does it?" you try not to cry in front of him but the more he stands there, looking lost and sad, the harder it is. there is something about finally giving you your place that makes you say the thing you never thought you were going to say out loud. at least not to him. "i'm in love with you, aemond, but loving you is hurting me. and i know it's my fault for never telling you and i'm not asking you to say or do anything... i just wanted you to know now that i feel things between us can never go back to the way they were."

aemond takes a step towards you, hands itching to touch you, but at the same time you take one step away from him. you know that if he touches you, the little wall you've created will come crashing down.

when you finally make eye contact, you can see the fight inside his head. you don't hate him, you hate yourself for not telling him sooner, for letting things go this far.

you smile softly at him before turning on your heels and walking back to the living room, swallowing all the tears.

cregan knows something happened the minute you sit and he doesn't hesitate to wrap his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side, placing a kiss to your temple.

aemond watches everything frozen in place, your words replaying in his head over and over again.

maybe he did know you were in love with him and that's why he did what he did. the real question is, is he in love with you? aemond realizes that doesn't matter anymore as he watches you and cregan together, and how comfortable you are around your new friends.

he's got a lot to blame for too.

the question now is; is he really willing to lose you?

#📮 ⌇ my works ˖⋆࿐#modern!aemond #aemond targaryen x reader #cregan stark x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen scenarios #aemond targaryen angst #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x reader #cregan x reader #hotd fanfic #hotd imagine #hotd x reader

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wildemaven · 1 year

Text

The Beginning: The Proposal

Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!Reader

WC: 3528

Warnings: language, established relationship, 2nd POV, mentions of food and drinks, im going to refrain from any other things to not give anything away, but it’s all fluff

A/N: It’s here!! I’m excited and nervous!! Happy to give these to a little more love and a little bit more backstory to them. Normally I have a full blown moodboard (and I do) but it would give away too much so I’m opting to not have one but if you’re interested in seeing it, I can post it in like a separate “spoilers below” post. Also, reader’s nickname is revealed in this, so any future posts will have it when referring to her (so much easier to when trying to avoid a name). And last but not least, their song picked by y’all is Lover by T.Swift and there’s a playlist linked below.

Edited to add a big thank you to @noisynaia for letting scream at her my thoughts!!!

Okay. I hope you like it. And if you ever want to scream about these two with me, my ask box is always open.

Previous / Series Masterlist / The Proposal Playlist / Weekends Masterlist

Sometimes the beauty of life is allowing it happen organically.

Delicate bits of time woven together through fleeting moments— in varying degrees of inconsequential or life changing events.

Momentous is how you would describe your life in a single word at this very moment in time.

The last 6 months had been a whirlwind for you and Frankie. Since that night you’d both not only confessed your love to each other, but also deciding to spend the rest of time together.

You’d convinced your landlord to let you out if your lease early, due to you being a exemplary tenant for several years. With the help of Frankie and the guys, you were able to box up your things and move into Frankie’s house across town.

It had taken a few weeks to unpack your life into this new space, but you felt a sense of accomplishment once everything had a place and mixed in effortlessly with Frankie’s belongings.

You’d both decided early on to keep your engagement to yourselves— a secret for the two of you to savor and enjoy.

Not that you were worried about what others might think, but this felt like a special kind of thing you wanted to bask in before sharing with your loved ones.

And when the time was right, everyone would know.

Your schedules had been booked and busy, so you’d both decided to take a random Friday off to spend some extra time together. You were excited to have a 3 day weekend, alone with your fiancé. Which also meant sleeping in as late as you wanted and taking your leisure time to extricate yourself from your cozy lush surroundings.

The bed dips a bit as you turn and stretch out your slow waking form.

“Time to get up sleepy head.” His voice is still your favorite part of waking up. The soft cadence tickles every inch of your body, better than any cup of coffee ever could.

“You let me sleep in, thank you.”

“You looked comfy all wrapped up, figured you could use a few more hours.”

He kisses you, it’s sweet and laced with a hint of bitterness from his morning coffee.

“Mmm! Good morning handsome.”

“Mornin’ Beautiful. There’s a coffee and a danish on the nightstand for you.” You shoot him a questioning look, amusingly taken aback and confused. “Don’t look at me like that. They were all out of croissants this morning, so I went with your second favorite.”

You accept the offer, rolling on to your stomach to reach for your coffee. You get lost in the first sip and savor its creamy rich flavor as it hits every waiting taste bud.

“Alright sleeping beauty. Time to get your ass outta bed and get ready.” Giving your backside a few pats before heading for the bedroom door. “Our appointment is at 3 and then dinner reservations are at 6. Gonna go iron my shirt and clean up my shoes.”

“Hey!” Playfully yelling for his attention as he walks away.

He stops just outside the door, turning back towards you.

“I love you.” He serious expression relaxes and his face lighting up instantly.

“I love you too.” He shoots you a wink before turning to carry on.

It takes you a minute to get yourself up and moving. Bites of your delicious danish and sips of your warm latte aid in your efforts to get yourself ready.

Your mundane routine of showering and prepping for the day were taken at a deliberate pace. Enjoying the balmy spray of the water, soothing the slight aches and pains that had built up over the last week, the feeling of relief is almost instant.

Toweling yourself off and slipping on your cozy rob, you finish readying yourself with a simple makeup look— nothing too fancy or bold, just enough to accentuate your most favorite features.

The garment bag containing your dress for the day was tucked away in the back of your closet. You were so excited to finally get to wear it and eager to see the look on Frankie’s face when he sees you in it.

It was muted in coloring, an off shade of white, it wasn’t anything you’d ever considered for yourself but the moment you’d tried it on there was an instant reaction of sorts. It’s silky smooth fabric hugged your body in such a way that you couldn’t help but feel like it was made for you.

Jewelry and shoes finished off the look, taking yourself in fully as you stand in front of your full length mirror. You hands smoothing over the dress, admiring every detail of your reflection.

“You look stunning.”

Your eyes immediately drawn to Frankie in the mirror leaning against the door frame.

Your breath catches at the sight of him. His head cocked to the side as he admires you, hands tucked into his pant pockets, suit jacket hugging his broad shoulders over his freshly ironed shirt— the top buttons forgotten about in true Frankie fashion.

He pushes himself off the doorframe, taking a few long strides until he is crowding behind your spot in front of the mirror.

His eye contact is direct, holding an intensity that makes you dizzy. Your body tingles when his large hands slowly rest on your shoulders, his thumbs toying at the delicate straps of your dress.

“Frankie…” His name floats over your lips as you look at him with an ardent smile.

His eyes never stop watching you as he leans down pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder, your eyelids flutter as the sensation of his lips ripples through your body.

Your hand comes up to caress the side of his face, his beard trimmed down, the stubble causing a bit of resistance to your touch.

You can’t help the tiny moan that escapes from your throat as Frankie begins to press kiss after kiss along your neck, tilting your head to completely give into to his wandering mouth.

“If you don’t stop, we’re never going to be on time.” Your breathless, knowing that it’s a slippery slop of carnal desire once things start to heat up.

He kisses you one last time before standing to his full height.

“You look so pretty.”

“Pretty?” His eyebrow raises at your comment, not he doesn’t think a man can be pretty, he’s just never saw himself as such.

You turn so you’re fully facing him, hands resting on his chest as you look at him with a sweet gaze. “Yes, pretty. And your hair looks good too.” Your fingers lightly combs through the sides just purely for the experience of touching him some more.

“You think so??” You nod softly and lean into kiss him gently.

“Let’s go handsome.”

It was a 45 minute drive, which gave you both plenty of time to enjoy each other’s company. Chats about work and plans for the next few months permeated the truck cabin. 70’s ballads filled the in between silence, but usually evoking laughter from you as Frankie would do his best to stay in tune with the music.

This was now a regular feature in both of your lives. These days spent together, relishing each and every moment, were your favorite. Weekends alone or with friends had you craving adventure as much as possible. But even the slow paced weekends, at home had become a cherished time for the both of you, wanting to absorb each and every moment before the work week was knocking at the door.

The large building towers over the street as Frankie pulls into the parking spot. Its florid design was beautiful for a giant cement building, the front covered in windows and ornate decorative details that are reminiscent of older times.

The weather is warm and sunny as you make your way to the building, Frankie’s grasp on your hand is grounding, giving it a few subtle squeezes as you walk through the glass doors.

The air inside feels cold and stale as you wait for the next available window, very on brand for such a building. A slight shiver has Frankie pulling you in to him, wrapping you in his warmth.

“Next!”

“Good afternoon ma’am. We have an appointment, should be under Morales.”

She doesn’t respond as she clicks away at her keyboard, squinting at her computer screen through her wide-rim glasses.

“Do you have all your proper documentation with you today?” Straight to the point and zero enthusiasm in her tone.

“Uh, yes ma’am.” Frankie hands her the small stack of papers she had asked for. You squeeze his hand now, 3 times as a silent ‘I love you’.

“It’s says here Mr. Morales you’re previously divorced. Do you have proof of dissolution? Otherwise you may not proceed with your application.” She asks as she continues to hold the papers that she hasn’t looked at yet, not even looking away from the screen.

“Yes. It’s in the with the other papers. It was an amicable dissolution, we both signed and agreed to end the marriage—“

“I don’t need your life story sir, just the proper paperwork.”

“Right. Sorry, ma’am.” 3 more squeezes to his sweaty hand, thankful that Frankie is handling her crankiness so calmly and with a smile. She clearly has been doing this for years and has zero intention of small talk.

Her fingers continue to click more buttons and she scans through the papers, inputting the information into the proper boxes. And after what feels like a long process, she’s printing out some new documents, stacking them with the ones you’d given her and hands them back to Frankie.

“Please wait for your name to be called.” Barely making eye contact as she adjusts herself in her chair.

“Thank you ma’am. Have a great weekend.”

“Mhmm. Next!”

“Clearly your charming good looks had no effect on her.” You snicker into Frankie’s shoulder as you both walk to the sitting area, trying to keep your comment contained between the two of you.

The minutes tick by, the space is eerily quiet, so you keep talking to a minimum while you wait.

The other chairs are filled with what look like other couples, all most likely there for the same reason.

You take in the sweet older couple who sits across from you. They must be in their 80’s and yet they have a young innocence that seems to envelop them. Their hands anchoring them to each other as they sit snuggled in sweetly. You can’t make out their conversation, but the way she is smiling and looking at him, it feels like she completely taken by him as has been for awhile. He pats her fragile little hands as he talks and every few minutes he looks at her like she’s the only one in the room— your heart nearly implodes at the gentle kiss he gives her forehead.

It’s like you’re looking at a glimpse of your future. A love so authentic and undying, strong enough to endure hardships, a vivid and passionate life together that never gets tiring.

The soft whisper of your name catches your attention.

“You okay?” 3 gentle squeezes to your hand, the reciprocated gesture tugging at your heart.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Just happy to be here with you.” You smile emphasizing your words.

“Alight, we have Morales up next! Please make your way through these doors and the commissioner is waiting for you up at the front.”

Entering the room, you’re welcomed by a lady standing behind a wooden podium— she’s already more inviting than the older one at the front desk.

Frankie’s hand is anchored to your lower back as you both make your way closer to her. Frankie hands her the papers she’s needs and you both wait for her to begin.

“Welcome. I have a few more couples after you so let’s get started. Do you have any witnesses with you today?”

“No ma’am we do not.”

“Okay, that’s fine, not a requirement in the state of Florida. And will you be exchanging rings today?”

“No ma’am, we do not have rings.”

“Well, this might just be the easiest one today.” She laughs a bit as she shuffled her papers around a bit.

“I’m going to ask you both to face each other while I read the declaration of intent.”

You can feel the emotions already flowing through you, as you look at Frankie. This man has gifted you with so much in such a short amount of time and you can’t help but feel so grateful for this life you’re about to begin.

“Please join hands.”

Frankie takes yours in his, his is touch is the most powerful thing you have ever felt.

“Francisco, do you take—“ There’s an pang in your chest as she says your name, but it’s not a heavy feeling, it’s light and airy as she continues reading from her paper. “To be your lawful wedded partner?”

“I do.”

His thumb sweeps back and forth across the top of your hand, his smile is beaming with elation.

“… do you take Francisco to be your lawful wedding partner?”

“I do.” There’s a slight crack when you say it, emotion fully overtaking your voice.

“… you have come here today on your own free will and declared your love for one and other.”

Tears begin to fall from your eyes as you look back at Frankie, your whole body feels like it’s floating on a blissful cloud. He wipes each tear and gently rubs your cheekbone, you lean into his touch.

“You have joined yourselves in matrimony. May you aim all your lives to meet this commitment and celebrate

in each other's company. And now that you have given and pledged your love and have stated so by joining

hands, by virtue of the authority vested in me by the State of Florida as Deputy Marriage Commissioner, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss.”

And you do. It’s unlike any kiss you have ever experienced before. It’s all-encompassing and heart-stopping, pouring out all the love you have for one another— his lips feel like forever.

Wedded bliss is intoxicating. An indescribable feeling of starting this new chapter together and looking forward to a future where it’s the two of you steadfast in your fidelity and aspirations.

Driving straight from the courthouse, you’d both felt slightly over dressed at your favorite restaurant, it’s casual setting a stark contrast from your wedding attire. In the short time together, you’d both become regulars, dining in or takeout had become a weekly occurrence.

Frankie had made the reservation and must have mentioned it was a special occasion because the table is nestled in a corner that was secluded from the rest of the restaurant. Lit candles and small arrangement of flowers placed in the center.

You couldn’t have imagined a more perfect post wedding celebration. Indulging in your favorite dishes as you reflect on the day, it all still feeling surreal and fresh. The staff also gifting a slice of cake, a little congratulations on your new marriage.

“How long should we keep it from them? Santi’s going to be pissed when he finds out. I can already see that assholes face.”

You laugh because you know he’s right, but you know he’ll be happy for you both, they all will.

“How about we wait a month. Then we can invite everyone over for dinner, the weather’s been nice too, so maybe we pull out the bbq even and we tell them then. I mean, we made it 6 months engaged and none of them had a single clue. I like the thought of this being between us for a little bit.”

“That sounds like a great plan.” He leans over and looks at you with an almost devilish smirk. “Now, let’s get home so I can get you out of that fucking dress.”

“Mr. Morales, you have quiet the mouth on you.” You tease amusingly.

“Well Mrs. Morales, this mouth also has plans for you this evening.” His tone hushed as he spoke, a wink to seal his response.

You close the space between you, feeling his plush lips against yours. “Then take me home soldier.” Your tongue peeking out, the softest lick to his lips before pulling away and settling back into your chair.

“Can we get the check?!”

It was dark by the time Frankie pull the truck into the drive way. The stars like little fireflies lighting the sky and the moon silently vigilant as it settles in for the night.

“Did we leave a light on before we left?” Unbuckling yourself and noticing a faint light illuminating the front room, a slight panic creeping in your eyes.

“Hmm, I thought we turned them all off. Go head on in and check it out, I’m gonna lock up the truck and grab the leftovers.”

Thankfully the door is secured and you don’t see any sign of a break-in or anything out of place, relief washing over you.

Stepping through the threshold into the house you’re met with an unexpected sight. Dozens of white roses on every surface surround the open room, the floor draped in a sea of white petals. Bouquets covering the kitchen island where small candles are lit, the glow you saw from the window, more bouquets as you look into the living room.

You’re completely speechless and in awe of the beauty of the room and you’re so confused trying to figure out where they all came from. Clearly someone did break in? But decorated with flowers and locked up after they left…

Footsteps through the doorway bring your attention back to your surroundings, their presence stopping behind you.

“Frankie? What are all these flowers doing here?”

He doesn’t respond, but you can sense that he’s there. Pulling your eyes away from the flowers you turn to face Frankie, except he’s not level with you when you do so.

There before you is Frankie, your husband, kneeling on one knee looking up at you holding a small box in his hands.

“Frankie?” A wave of shock and elation crash over you in a matter of seconds. “What are you doing?”

“Hermosa… I know you said you didn’t need some big extravagant proposal and seeing as how we just got married just a few hours ago 6 months after meeting, we definitely don’t follow traditions.” His voice is so soft, and his eyes have never looked brighter.

“This is me promising you a future, a life where you are not alone. From the moment I met you, I knew I wanted to be apart of your life in some capacity and I wanted to make you smile everyday because it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. Everyday I wake and think of you and when I sleep I think of you, you consume me with your laughter and your words of encouragement and your ability to live without abandonment.” You gasp as he slowly opens the small box revealing a ring. The design is simple and elegant, a beautiful stone setting with a unique design on a wider gold band.

“Te amo Hermosa. Will you be mine forever?”

You can’t stop the tears that are pouring down your face, you can’t even properly form any words as you nod your head reaching out for him, standing to his full height, placing the ring on your finger.

“I just need to double check that was a yes?”

“Yes! A million times yes!” You laugh through the still streaming tears, swatting at his chest as you look down at your hand, the ring sitting perfectly on your finger.

“How did you manage to get this all set up? It’s beautiful by the way.”

“I enlisted Hannah to help.”

“Hannah knows?!”

“No. No she doesn’t know what it was for exactly. I just said I wanted to surprise you after a dinner with flowers, I didn’t realize she was going to go all out. Remind me to check my credit card later.”

You kiss him, soaking in the moment with him. “I love you Frankie.” You whisper against his lips before you begin kissing him again.

“Wait, there’s one more thing.” He states as he pulls out his phone. “I also had Hannah show me how to use my phone with the speaker, something about blue teeth?”

It takes him a minute to get it connected, but he manages to get it hooked up. Music begins to play, it’s a softer song and you realize it’s one of your favorites. You’ve played it numerous times over the last few months, claiming that the song remind you of yours and Frankie’s love for each other.

“Can I have this dance?” Tossing his phone to the couch and holding his hand out to you.

“Always.”

The song played on as you both held each other, the soft sway of your bodies around the room. The flicker of the candles still adding a touch of light, laughter and kisses exchanged as he spins you about.

This was only the beginning.

#frankie morales x you #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x fem!reader #frankie morales x reader #Frankie morales #Pedro pascal #weekends with frankie #wildemaven writes

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redgoldsparks · 16 days

Text

March Reading and Reviews by Maia Kobabe

I post my reviews throughout the month on Storygraph and Goodreads, and do roundups here and on patreon. Reviews below the cut.

Delicious in Dungeon vol 4 by Ryoko Kui

I'm reading these books so fast I can barely remember which parts of the plot happened in which volume but know that I am still having a great time!

Delicious in Dungeon vol 5 by Ryoko Kui

Oh, this story has taken a darker turn, and also just introduced a whole bunch more characters. Will I be able to keep track of them all? I hope so!

Dragon Keeper by Robin Hobb, read by Anne Flosnik

Unfortunately, this is definitely the weakest Robin Hobb book I've read so far. I was expecting to like it less than the glorious, 5-star previous trilogy, but I actually think I'm going to skip the rest of the Rain Wild Chronicles and read summaries online to get to the next Fitz books. This book follows five main POV characters. This works fairly well for the first half, when the characters are all in different physical locations. However once all of the characters meet up, we start getting the same scene from multiple different POVs, which feels extremely repetitive. Also, almost EVERY SCENE includes a flashback, often a lengthy flashback, sometimes to something that happened only the previous day and could have been told as present-moment action. This writing choice baffled me. It's something I can't remember struggling with in any of Hobb's previous books, but by the end it was driving me up a wall. The book also moved very slowly; the stakes feel lower, and the character far less emotionally true than in the two Fitz trilogies. Disappointing, but I will keep moving forward towards the next part of the series I want to read.

Delicious in Dungeon vol 6 by Ryoko Kui

Damn, a lot of characters get murdered in this volume! Good thing almost everyone who dies in the dungeon can be revived. Also, very excited to finally meet the cat ninja I've been seeing fan art of since before I even started the series :3

Delicious in Dungeon vol 7 by Ryoko Kui

I am still completely caught up in this series. I love the glimpse of Senshi's past revealed in this volume, and the lore of the dungeon that is still being revealed. There was a line in here about how the dungeon leaves you alone if you don't ask much of it, but that if you have strong desires it throws even more obstacles into your way. Our heroes have such big goals right now, but they're marching ahead regardless!

School Trip by Jerry Craft

A satisfying new installment in the New Kid series from funny, talented, charming Jerry Craft! I appreciated how this volume started to complicate some of the students who had been left a bit one-dimensional in previous books. Several people stood up to and called out a bully; new friendships were built; and Jordan Banks left Paris even more inspired than ever to follow his dreams of becoming an artist. This series has a lot of jokes, but also a lot of heart!

A Frog in Fall (and Later On) by Linnea Sterte

Minor frog is less than a year old, and is dismayed when winter begins to steal all of the light and warmth from his world. Instead of bunking down safely with his mentor to wait for spring, he sets out on a journey with two vagabond toads passing by on a quest to make it all the way to the tropics. They tramp through the Japanese countryside, encountering tree spirits, new friends, dangers, and views the likes of which minor frog had never even imagined. This is a gorgeous book; every page worth pouring over, an economy of line and detail building a beautiful and mysterious world of talking animals and miniature packaged foods. Made me want to draw.

Dark Rise by CS Pacat read by Christian Coulson

In 1820s London, orphaned Will tries to earn enough as a dockworker to survive- and evade the killers pursuing him. Violet dresses in her half-brother's clothes and sneaks onto a ship in the Thames to watch a man be branded with his master's mark. Katherine excitedly anticipates her engagement to one of London's richest and most mysterious lords; his gallantry nearly makes up for the fact that he's twice her age. And in the bowels of one of that lord's ships, James tortures a man for information. All of these characters are 16 or 17 years old, but all of them are tangled in an ancient conflict between the Light and the Dark which stretches back into an age of magic before history. This is CS Pacat's YA fantasy debut, and it contains a lot of tropes very familiar to both YA and high fantasy- there are shades of both Tolkien and Rowling in this. Its fast-paced and action-packed, but especially in the first third of the story, the characters all felt fairly thin. None of them have quirks, hobbies, career hopes, relationships outside of immediate family, school, or work; or much more than a brief sketch of past. It took until the mid-way point for what I consider Pacat's major strengths as a writer to emerge: intense, homoerotic interpersonal sparring between characters operating under major power imbalances. Every scene in which the seductive, manipulative, powerful evil gay faced off against the good boy chosen one crackled with energy. Unfortunately, there were only four of these scenes in the whole book. It ends on a cliff-hanger, because of course it does, with a tempting set up for book two; but that doesn't entirely excuse the fact that the first 50% felt like set up. I will definitely keep reading, but long-time Pacat fans should take note that this is toned down version of what I expected based on Captive Prince.

Feeding Ghosts by Tessa Hulls (re-read before event)

What an accomplishment! I savored every page of Feeding Ghosts, absolutely floored by the labor and courage that went into the writing of this book. The inking is gorgeous, the history is clear, digestible, and devastating. This book threads the line between honesty and compassion in a way that I appreciate so much in any memoir, but especially one dealing with family. Hulls lays out the story of three generations of women starting with her grandmother, Sun Yi, a Shanghai journalist who faced intense persecution during the rise of Communism in China, who penned a popular and scandalous memoir and then suffered a mental breakdown. This left her only daughter, Rose, a student at an elite boarding school with no parental figures and no other family to lean on. Eventually Rose earned a scholarship to an American university and in the end moved her mother into her California home. Sun Yi haunted that home during the author's own childhood. The unexamined trauma and codependency of Sun Yi and Rose drove the author to the extreme edges of the Earth, seeking freedom from their ghosts. But in the end, she stopped running from her family history and turned, instead, to face it. Shelve this book with Maus, Fun Home, Persepolis and The Best We Could Do. Re-read it for a second time and got even more out of it on a second pass.

Delicious in Dungeon vol 8 by Ryoko Kui

Laios and company realize that their encounter with changling mushroom rings had more consequences than they'd realized- its the body swap episode! This visual humor is contrasted against increasing dangers from both above and below, as nastier monsters and political machinations begin to close in on our heroic adventuring party. I'm now over halfway through this series and almost feel like I should start reading it more slowly to savor it, but I'll probably just keep devouring it instead.

Lunar New Year Love Story by Gene Luen Yang and Leuyen Pham

High school senior Val grew up knowing her family was unlucky in love; for generations, relationships in her family have ended in heartbreak. Her childhood love of Valentines Day ends with a shocking family revelation and what feels like the beginning of a curse. Then her Vietnamese grandmother sweeps her off to a Lunar New Year celebration in downtown Oakland and a pair of cute lion dancer boys catch her eye. Could one of them break the spell on her heart? This story offers a classic and satisfying rom-com, with Val torn between an outgoing, rich, but flaky boy and a broody, shy, loyal one. The story takes several kdrama style twists and includes ghosts, saints, red envelopes, confessions, fights, reunions, tears, and kisses. For a comic, its wordy; the pages are dense with small panels and thick with dialogue, but also illustrated with such warm, humor, and realism. I really liked that the story included as much of Val's relationship with her family and best friend as romance. And the lion dancing scenes practically leap off the page with color and energy!

Witch Hat Atelier vol 10 by Kamome Shirahama

This series remains as visually stunning as ever but I'm struggling with how every single book expands the cast. There are so many characters now that I don't care about that much, and have trouble remembering from volume to volume. I wish the story line would stick more closely to Coco, her classmates, and their main mentors!

Delicious in Dungeon vol 9 by Ryoko Kui

Oh the stories are all converging! The savior at the bottom of the dungeon is probably a demon! Ituzumi saves the day! I am still having a great time reading this series.

A Dowry of Blood by ST Gibson read by Abby Craden

A short, very queer, very poly retelling of Dracula focusing on his coven of enthralled lovers. I liked the way the book breezed through history, as the dysfunctional little family moved from one major European city to the next, with snatched moments of glittering joy interwoven with violence and plague. The story is fairly simple, and has a happier ending than I expected, or honestly think the characters deserved.

City of Dragons by Robin Hobb

I DNFed the previous book in this series and just read a summary online before skipping ahead to this one. I think that was a very good choice for me. This third one was more engaging and a bit more action packed, with some cool discoveries about the city of Kelsingra and the nature of Elderlings. But the Rain Wild Chronicles as a whole do not stand up to the quality of the Farseer books. There are so many POV characters that a few of them get only two or three scenes in this whole book. I don't feel that I deeply know any of these characters; while at the same time watching Hobb pair them off at an extraordinary rate- in the last book five sets of characters got together and in this book an additional two couples are developing feelings for each other. Between this and a kidnapping, a birth, a murder, and a lot of blackmail, this series feels like a soap opera.

Delicious in Dungeon vol 10 by Ryoko Kui

Almost two TPKs in this volume, yikes!

Delicious in Dungeon vol 11 by Ryoko Kui

You know shit's getting serious when the character who has been the series main villain up until now is partially devoured by a different, worse villain. Exciting changes coming to this dungeon under it's new lord and master!

Squad by Maggie Tokuda-Hall and Lisa Sterle

When Becca gets invited to sit with the popular girl clique at her new high school, she's thrilled. But the friendship turns bloody and complicated when she learns that her new friends are actually werewolves who need to kill and feed on a human once a month. If she joins them, Becca will gain superhuman strength and a pack; she'll never have to fear a male predator again, because she will be a predator herself. I loved the queer rep and the twist on werewolf lore; I wish it had been a little longer and more developed. Give me multi-page transformations sequences!

Delicious in Dungeon vol 12 by Ryoko Kui

I love seeing all these plot lines come together! Building towards a wild climax.

Delicious in Dungeon vol 13 by Ryoko Kui

I went out and *bought* vol 13 of this series because my library didn't have it yet, that's how hooked I am. And now I have to wait until JULY for the final volume! (But also, thank goodness I didn't get into this series any sooner or I'd have a much longer wait).

#book reviews #books #reading #comics #manga

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arvensimp · 1 year

Text

your father should know, pt. 2

Arven leaves you with something more than either of you bargained for when he goes off to Kalos for an internship, and through a series of miscommunications and heartbreak, he returns a few years later to learn that he actually has a child.

arven x reader, nsfw content, pregnancy, angst, and stupid miscommunications

[part 1]

thanks for your patience waiting for this part!! also thank you to my beautiful betas for helping me <3

You're very grateful to Nemona, for having her nearby back when the doctor first confirmed your pregnancy. As excitable as she is, her Type A personality proved pretty handy in the moment. Yes, she got you home safe and sound, but she was also able to get appointments scheduled for you right then and there for whatever choice you decided to make moving forward.

You were hoping to have Arven with you to help you make a choice on what to do, but... Well, he has other things to focus on, and you're not going to begrudge him that. You won't let yourself think about it any further.

So you sit at your kitchen table with two different appointment cards in front of you to see your OBGYN's office. One is for a termination, the other is to go over...whatever you'll need to do if you decide you don't want to go through with the former appointment.

You have to cancel one of them. The fridge thrums behind you, a monotonous white noise that you wish you could focus on instead of the task ahead.

You press your forehead into your fingertips.

Okay.

Can you do this?

You're a champion of Paldea. One of the most beloved figures of the Pokemon scene in the region. You're powerful, with financial security to spare to be a single mother.

Can you be a mom?

Well...you feel like your Pokemon love you well enough. You love them like babies. Obviously a human is different. Especially if it's yours and...well, yeah. You think you can be a mom.

Lastly then, the question becomes: do you want to do this? At the end of the day, no one is forcing you one way or another. That's one blessing, at least, about being abandoned. Not abandoned. That's one blessing of being independent. You don't have to do anything you don't want to do.

You think... You think you've been thinking about this for a long time, as you have all the other questions. You do want this. You want to have a baby, your own sweet little one. They'll be so cute. They have to be, given their parentage.

…You try not to dwell on that part too much, but it's a little difficult.

Is it wrong to carry his baby without him? What if he doesn't want a child out there? Well. No. He must not care. If he did, he'd have said something. You don't have to worry about this being a betrayal of trust on your part.

Moving forward, you only need to worry about betraying the trust of the tiny life growing within you.

And...well, that thought gives you pause.

You finally allow your fingers to linger featherlight over your abdomen. You're nowhere near showing, nor can you feel anything substantial or physical there, but... You feel something.

Attachment. Devotion. Loyalty.

You don't know if this little thing is even the size of an oran berry yet, but... You've got a fierce love for it already just after thinking about it a little bit.

If your mind wasn't already made up, that would have made the decision for you.

You’re a mother now.

In the morning you call your OBGYN and cancel the tentative appointment to terminate. You'll be by later in the week to go over needs and expectations.

The automatic doors to the league slide open with a swipe of your access card, and stark white greets you. This isn't an easy conversation, and it's one that you can't put off for much longer. Beyond the fact that you'll start showing soon, Nemona has been chomping at the bit to talk about the baby at work and with anyone who'll listen. She's just so excited to be a tía, and if you don't tell La Primera soon, then you won't have control of the news when it eventually breaks.

You sit in the chair opposite her desk, feeling entirely too nervous, your hands clasped in your lap, thumbs twiddling. "Thanks for taking the time to meet with me today, Geeta." You start.

"Absolutely." She responds with her usual, impassive smile. "How can I be of service?"

"I, uh. I need to give you an advance notice of..." You swallow. "Of some need for medical leave."

Your boss tilts her head just slightly to the side, her massive mane of hair shimmering like an oil slick in the florescent light with just the smallest movement. "Oh?" You still can't read her true emotion well, but she's projecting the idea of concern. "Is everything alright?"

You will yourself not to touch your abdomen as you had been doing absent mindedly more and more often as of late. The habit grew on you more quickly than you'd expected. "Yes. I just, uh. Well... I'll be having a baby in a few months, and I know I'll be out of commission for a while."

"I see." Geeta's eyes flick almost imperceptibly down to your hands. Truth be told it's a movement that you would have missed if you hadn't spent countless hours learning to read her for the slightest tells through her battling. You feel a flush burn through your cheeks. Should you start wearing a ring?

"Congratulations and thank you for letting me know." Geeta is smiling at you again. "I completely understand. I'll see about having HR send you all the necessary paperwork, so we can get you all sorted. If I remember correctly, we offer a few flexible plans for expectant parents. Just choose whichever suits you best, and we can go from there." She's already turned to her computer and opened up an email, likely to the HR rep.

"Thank you," You reply, breathing a small sigh of relief. This really wasn't as painful as you were expecting.

"Just... One thing." Geeta adds, not looking back at you from her computer until she continues with a sigh. "We're going to want to keep you away from participation in field research tasks, the Ace Academy Tournament, and Championship testing for a short while."

She raises a single gloved hand in time with your cry of "What?!"

"You and I both know you are more than capable of holding your own, but..." She sighs. "Battling can still be dangerous, and we both know that Paldea still isn't the most well-known for its love of Pokemon. We're still building the league up. You know I trust you, but Arceus forbid something...unpleasant were to happen while on League business..." She pauses, and you nod, already resigned.

"I understand, Geeta. Better safe than sorry. I'd hate to hold the League back in any way at all." It feels weird saying it, but it isn't a lie? Firstly, you obviously don't want to hurt your little tamato berry (that's apparently how big it is now!), but also you genuinely wouldn't want anything to be associated with the League on the off chance that the unthinkable happened. "So... What will you have me do?"

Geeta leans forward, resting her chin in her gloved hands with a frown. "We've always got more paperwork."

The rest of the week is spent working closely with Geeta to wrap up your current research assignments that you owe to Jacq. There's nothing terribly dangerous or strenuous in what he'd had you doing, but...

"Are you serious?!" He nearly shouts when you give him the news. Jacq adjusts his glasses and eyes your body up and down in a way that would make you feel far more uncomfortable if not for the fact that you know he's very clearly looking for a bump, examining you in that way that only scientists seem to do without shame.

"Yup..." You tell him, shifting awkwardly under his stare.

"Well, congrats! Who's the lucky dad?" He asks, clapping your shoulder jovially.

You swallow. This has been easier to tell your doctor. Jacq is a friend. Your old teacher. You know him.

He picks up on your silence and lets his hand drop from you, going to scratch the back of his head uncomfortably. "Ah... Sorry about that! Anyway," He moves on quickly, turning to the board with his notes. "It's no big deal! You've given me plenty to work with. I can definitely just do data analysis for a while... And maybe one of the other champions can help me with some of the Area Zero research we're looking to do..."

Your heart squeezes. You're usually the one who gets sent into Area Zero. Most other champions don't have the constitution for solo trips or are too busy with other assignments.

You sigh. "Sorry, Jacq. It won't be forever though?"

He smiles back at you warmly. "Oh definitely! Don't worry about it, really! And congratulations! I'm super excited for you. Lemme know if you need anything, okay?"

You give him a smaller smile in response, still not feeling great about it all, and head to the door.

"Definitely."

You haven't even made it back to the entrance hall before you hear another familiar voice.

"Ah! Well, if it isn't one of our most illustrious champions."

"Director." You steel yourself and greet him with a nod.

Clavell catches up with you quickly. "It's been a minute since we've had you in the halls, hasn't it? To what do we owe the pleasure?" He asks, gesturing for you to follow him as he walks.

"Um. Yeah... It has," You say, moving at a bit of a faster clip to keep up with the director. "I was just checking in with Jacq on the latest for his research."

"Is that so?" He says in that kind way that somehow also feels like he knows more than he's letting on.

You laugh a little nervously. "Yup! Just a check in..." Does he already know? Who would have told him? Geeta? Nemona? That would have been an invasion of privacy, right? "I, uh... I won't be able to be out in the field for a minute, so..."

Clavell raises an eyebrow as he looks down at you, still walking. "Should we continue this conversation in my office?"

"Sure?"

It's strange sitting in front of Clavell's desk again, especially like this. You're not his student anymore, yet you still feel like you're in trouble or about to get a lecture.

"So you're stepping back from fieldwork?" He asks you, looking genuinely concerned. "Did something happen?"

"Well..." You wriggle uncomfortably in the plush leather seat. "I'm actually pregnant, and La Primera and I decided it'd be for the best if I--"

"Congratulations!" The director interrupts, rather uncharacteristically. "That's marvelous news. I hadn't even known you were in a relationship."

You look down. "Yeah..."

From your peripheral you can see Clavell adjust his glasses on his nose. "So the father...?"

You feel a lump forming in your throat. This wouldn't be quite as hard if not for the fact that you had just gone through it with Jacq, and you still feel pretty raw about it. "He... Um. He doesn't seem to want to be involved, I guess..."

Clavell clears his throat. "I see... Well. I hope you know you have every resource here at the academy at your disposal, should you ever need anything."

The lump sitting there just above your vocal folds get impossibly tighter, so you just nod, squeezing your hands into fists on your knees.

Clavell tsks softly, standing and moving around. When he offers his spread arms in a hug, you take him up on it.

He won't tell if you happened to cry a little bit.

He's dealt with struggling single parents in his office before, and it's never easy.

So you end up working office duty with the League.

It's quiet, mostly, but the offices are nice. Larry gives you the low down on everything you need to know and then leaves you alone. You go to either him or to Rika if you have any questions about certain forms or which things go where.

All in all it's not bad. Not...exciting. Definitely not your preferred way to spend the rest of your life, but... Well, you know it isn't permanent.

Plus, as you get bigger and start having to walk less and waddle more, the ease of a desk job is kind of nice. Far better than riding a dragon at least.

You're sitting at your desk one day when the most delicious smell wafts through the office, and it nearly gets you drooling.

Whatever it is... You...you have to have it. You want it so bad it almost makes you want to cry.

What the fuck...

With a sigh and a bit of a grunt you stand and peak out the door to your office, following the smell to the break room.

Larry spots you from his seat at the table almost immediately, looking up at you from beneath his massive, bushy brows.

"Good afternoon." He shuts the tupperware containing his lunch. "I apologize if the smell was a little strong. I didn't intend for it to be. I can move outside if--"

"No!" You interrupt, entirely too loudly. "It smells really, really good actually." You swallow, eyeing the container reverently. "Super good. Uh... What is it?" Can I have it, can I have it? Let me have it, I want it, I want it, I need it NOW.

"Oh." Larry opens up the tupperware once more, and you actually feel the sting of your mouth salivating anew. "Just some grilled rice balls. Remember the ones from the gym challenge? Same ones, extra lemon."

"...Oh..." Did you lick your lips? You don't know. You may have. All you know is that the food there sounds...so good.

Larry calls your name in his usual dull monotone, breaking you from your craving trance. "Would you like some?"

You're in the chair across from him faster than you care to admit, and Larry smiles a small, tired kind of smile at you.

From then on, he seems to make a habit to bring along extra food to work. He keeps a pint of ice cream for you in the freezer too, just in case you have a day where things feel bad. He says ice cream can usually help with that sort of thing.

In fact, not too long later, he imagines you might be having one of those days. Larry isn't really one to pry. He likes to come in, do work, take his 15 minute break, work some more, take his lunch, work, take another break, then go home. But...with a pregnant lady in the office, he can't help but secretly fret just a little bit. Not in a weird way or something, but he keeps an ear out, just in case.

So when he hears soft sniffling coming from your office one day after you'd come back from some appointment or other he's a little nervous. He doesn't actually want you talking to him or crying on him or something... But you're clearly upset. Not upset enough to just go home, so it can't be that bad, but...

He goes back to the break room, grabs the ice cream and a spoon, sets them both outside your door, knocks gently, then leaves.

Ice cream should help.

That said, he still bristles when you inevitably knock on his door a few minutes later, the spoon in your mouth and the pint of raspberry cheesecake ice cream in your hands.

"...Thank you..." You say miserably around the metal in your mouth, eyes cast to the floor.

"No problem. ...Is it helping?" Larry asks, trying to focus on the spreadsheet he's working on. Stupid pivot tables.

"Yeah..." You come in uninvited and sit in the seat across from him. This isn't really what he was hoping to deal with, but it's fine. He can listen.

Except you don't talk. You just sit with him, slowly spooning more of the treat into your mouth. Eventually Larry hazards a look at you. Your eyes are rimmed red, but you don't look too terrible, honestly.

He sighs but it doesn't sound agitated. "How can I help?"

Now that you've been prompted, you reach into your pocket and reveal several tiny squares of paper, lining them up on his desk.

"Look!" You tell him, the sound coming out kinda wet and sad.

They're...ultrasound photos?

"Uh... Very nice?" Larry asks you.

"Aren't they beautiful?" You hiccup around the spoon.

At that time Rika just happens to be making her afternoon rounds, when she picks up on your whimpering and storms into the office.

"Hey! Is this geezer giving you a hard time, Mama?" She asks you affectionately, rubbing your shoulders.

"Come on now," Larry says, exasperated, as you shake your head.

"I'm just being silly." You tell her, gesturing to the pictures. "They did a little photoshoot today." The sentence is punctuated with a loud sniffle.

Rika scoops up the lot and overdramatically coos over them. She doesn't seem much like one for kids herself, but she's been very nice to you since you've been put on desk duty. She asks how you're feeling regularly and offers you decaf coffee or tea whenever she goes to make some for herself. From time to time she also walks out of the building with you, just making sure you get to a cab safely.

"Yeah, I dunno entirely what I'm looking at, but I'm positive it's cute." She points to a particular splotch on a photo. "Like that? That's it, right? The little bun you got baking in there? Kinda looks like a clodsire!"

"Rika..." Larry interjects, glancing at you. Truth be told he can kinda see the clodsire-ish shape? But he's never actually been one to be able to read an ink blot test, much less something as complicated as an ultrasound.

You laugh. "Wanna keep it?" You ask her. "I had them print a ton."

Rika pockets the photo. "Hell yeah I wanna keep it. I'm betting this lil bean a'yers is basically gonna be the next Poppy, so I'm gonna be its biggest fan from before day 1."

You can't help but laugh again. "Thank you..."

Rika slides a photo over to Larry. "You're gonna be its fan, too, right?" She smiles wide and somewhat menacing, but who's to say if there's any real malice behind it.

Larry takes the picture gingerly from her. "Of course."

And for some reason that has you blubbering wetly all over again.

"Thank you both..."

"Oh, just eat your ice cream..." Larry tells you, and when he says it, it's not harsh or mean. Just kind of paternal, as if the treat will fix your hormones.

"C'mon, Mama," Rika tells you, helping you to your feet with a shocking bit of strength for her lanky frame. "I think Larry can only handle so many tears in one sitting. Let's go give a photo to La Primera, yeah?"

You nod and are led out of the office.

Only then does Larry give a sigh of relief.

He pins the little black and white photo up on his corkboard later. He can't tell anything about what's actually in it. Like what's a foot or a nose or something, but...well it makes him happy somehow. Something about the future and all that.

Rika's the first one who feels the baby kick. Nemona swore up and down that it would be her, but it just so happens that Rika's around when you're feeling those fluttery jumbles inside one day. You'd, of course, been feeling them for a while now, but no one else had been able to pick up on it, much to your... Well, you weren't sure if it was satisfaction or dissatisfaction. Up until now, your little potato had only been yours, but when someone else is eventually able to feel it...then it's not just yours anymore, is it? What a strange feeling.

Regardless, Rika had asked if you were down for a light match, just some training between some of your younger pokemon, parts of your teams that you were hoping to train up for the future.

"But La Primera..."

"The Boss told you not to take part in any serious battling. I saw your plan. I'm basically HR here, remember?" She shoots you a wink. "No pressure if you don't wanna, but I know I'd be itching to battle if I were you." It's true... Nemona's been taking some of your heavier hitters out for work outs from time to time, as had Dendra once, but you really miss being in the driver's seat.

You hum thoughtfully. "Lemme go through my boxes and think about it?"

"Sure thing." Rika plops down in your office chair, opposite your desk and starts playing on her rotom phone while you scroll through your boxes.

...You'd been thinking at one point about working out an all paradox team, but that's out of the question right now. You couldn't handle a crazy time-loopy volcarona if it got too wild.

There are a few water types you were thinking about training up, but that also feels unfair specifically to Rika who specializes in ground... Then something catches your eye.

An egg. You don't entirely remember when you'd put it in a box or where it came from, but the growing maternal part of you screams to let it come be part of the family, so you send for it along with a teddiursa you'd caught a few months back.

All in all, the battling itself isn't terribly exciting by your typical standards. You and Teddiursa barely know each other after all, and it isn't quite ready to lend you its full trust, but you know it has sass and spark. The two of you go up against one of Rika's younger wooper, not really battling to faint. Just to have some fun.

The shouting and excitement must do something for the baby though because it jolts inside you, knocking you off balance and kicking the air from your lungs. You stagger a bit, gripping your midsection with an unladylike grunt, and Rika dashes to you quick as a Cinderace.

"Hey hey hey, what's up?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine. Just got sucker punched or kicked, I think? Here, wanna feel? That was pretty strong." It's such a bizarre experience you don't even think about the weirdness of asking Rika if she wants to touch you. She just takes you up on the offer, laying both hands on the roundness of your abdomen.

She stands still like that for a moment, then two, then three before you feel your baby wiggling around again, and her eyes go wide as a jigglypuff's. "Holy shit that's weird," She says with a laugh, pressing a bit against the feeling to see if she can get the baby to respond more. "Hey! You in there?" She says to them. "Seems like you might wanna battle some day. Well, don't let your Auntie Nemona know, kay? She'll never let you go a day without it."

The baby kicks solidly against one of her hands, and she laughs, pulling back.

"Kid's got fire! We like to see it!"

"The Kickening" as it comes to be known, kind of creates a silly sort of mock-rivalry between Rika and Nemona for who they think will make the best auntie/tía, which rises to a fever pitch between them when it comes to planning your baby shower. That said, you insist to the pair that you don't want to make any huge sort of fuss. Maybe a small party, no major gifts. You just need some essentials. Things like diapers, maybe some formula, and that's it. You feel like you've been a burden already, slowing down Jacq's research, not able to contribute to the league as you usually do, even unable to train your team as you want.

Nemona vehemently disagrees, but Rika seems to calm her down. "We should listen to the mama on this one." She throws a wink your way. "How about this, Nemona. Why don't I take our sweet girl out for a day of pampering instead?"

"Hey, what?" You and Nemona both cry at once, but Rika is already dragging you to the door, a grin evident on her features.

"C'mon... I'm sure Nems can see herself out."

And somehow it works?

Rika gets you out of the house that morning in your sweats and into one of those cute, trendy maternity stores that you'd sort of been avoiding because you were putting off buying new clothes for yourself when you knew there was still so much to buy for the baby... But then again you also hadn't been buying terribly much on that front either, having only just completed your research and created the list of which products you want.

So you get squeezed? Actually not squeezed. Actually comfortably fit! Into a nice flowy dress that makes you look and feel super cute. Your reflection smiles back at you from the mirror, and you look down to your bump which looks very comfortable and snug as a bug in the shapewear you've got on beneath the dress. You do a little swish for yourself, admiring the way the fabric flows a bit. The skirt of the dress isn't terribly over-the-top flowy, but it's got that nice amount of swing to it.

You feel pretty. Not that you have felt particularly bad lately, but... Well, you hadn't thought much about yourself. You haven't had the time.

Before you leave the shop, Rika also buys you one of those popular L&D dresses that you can wear in the hospital rather than a drab and shapeless gown. It's apparently got all the bits and bobs and holes and whatever that you'll need to...have a baby and look cute doing it? You're not totally sure, but the dress looks nice enough, and the fabric feels soft and cool on your fingers.

Next up on your little day of pampering is a pre-natal massage at a spa. You try to tell Rika that this is way too much, that you can't accept something so fancy, but she just laughs and pushes you forward, tipping your massage therapist before you even go back to undress, telling the woman that you're "a very important woman to the region."

Your therapist is incredible, working away tension that you hadn't realized you developed in your shoulders and lower back. She speaks softly and kindly, with one of those voices that you might expect to hear in an ASMR video. She doesn't even care when you accidentally moan a little bit when she worked out a particular knot in your shoulder that you hadn't realized was bugging you.

By the time you're back on your feet, you feel like you might actually have grown 2 or 3 centimeters.

You waddle back out to Rika with a blissed out smile on your face.

"That good?"

You just nod.

"Good. We're not done though."

Next thing you know you're being taken to a local birthing center where they're starting up a session of Lamaze classes.

Truth be told you've been interested in taking classes like these but were too nervous to sign up since...well, you don't have a partner.

Rika slips a companionable arm around your shoulder.

"Feel free to say no to this if you don't want to, but one of the tenents of their practice here is advocacy for the birthing person in L&D, and I thought you might like that? I can be with you every step of the way, too. If you want, 'course." She sniffs casually.

"Like...you'll take the class too?" You ask, wincing. She's really okay with that?

"Hell yeah. Only if you want though. There's absolutely no pressure. Yeah?"

And because she's Rika, ever casual, you know she means it.

You nod.

"Yeah. This...this should be good."

And it is! It's only an introductory class, and you'll be back over for the next few weeks to learn more, but it feels good to be learning something in a group setting.

You also wouldn't say this if you were prompted, but it's nice not to feel alone. Sure, Rika isn't your girlfriend or your wife, but she makes for a great partner, solid and steady as the ground, funnily enough.

The two of you leave class, arms linked, laughing over what the instructor told the class about stupid things that dads say in the delivery room.

"Are you here to seduce my wife?" Rika says in a mockingly deep voice.

"Darling, the term is induce." You reply in a similarly silly voice, your tone wavering with the effort it takes not to giggle

"Well, either way, I'm not so sure I like it!"

Conversation falls back to light and easy topics from there as you make your way together back to your place.

"You really didn't have to walk me all this way home, y'know," You tell Rika as you unlock the door.

"Eh, it's fine. Gotta make sure you get home safe and all that." She replies, reaching over you to prop open the door for you to enter once your key leaves the lock.

"Yeah, yeah, precious cargo and all that. Come on in. At least have something to drink before you go."

You flip on the light to your entryway and living room space.

"SURPRISE!"

You screech (and truth be told you might even pee a little, but no one has to know that part).

In your living room is nearly everyone you care about in the damn region, decked out in pinks, blues, and yellows with super gaudy and over the top baby shower decor littering your entire apartment.

Nemona tackles you about as gently as a pregnant woman can be tackled.

"Don't be mad, don't be mad, don't be mad! We all just wanted to celebrate you and the baby, okay?!" She's biting her lip and hopping up and down excitedly.

"Are you guys for real?" You ask, and you're not totally sure what emotion you're feeling in the moment.

"Of course," Rika tells you, slinging her arm over your shoulder. "We all love you, y'know?"

"Actually," Larry speaks up from his seat on your sofa, where he's wearing a soft pink party hat with a tiny yellow puff ball. "I'd like to maintain a friendly working relationship here, but I was outvot--"

Hassel elbows him jovially in the gut. He's already crying. "Don't worry aboud him." He sniffles, "We're all jus' so habby for you!" Brassius is on his other side, patting his knee.

And maybe it's Hassel? Maybe it's just the entire day's kindness and goodness, but the tears start flowing then and there. Big, ugly sobs wracking through your chest even though you're smiling and thanking everybody.

Nemona and Rika are of course hugging you, but a few others join in on the group hug as well, including Hassel, Salvatore, Saguaro, and Katy.

When you seem to have calmed down a bit (at least enough to form sentences again), Nemona takes your hands. "Here. Lemme show you what we did."

She guides you to the spare bedroom that you kept telling yourself would be the nursery for the baby...and inside... It's like Christmas morning for how many gifts litter the place. It's no longer your spare room for your camping equipment (you'll need to ask Nemona where she or whoever else put that). It's...it's a nursery now.

The crib that you wanted is there, assembled and everything. The car seat/stroller combo you'd been eyeing is also sitting in a corner, and there are so many other gifts, you're not quite sure what to do.

"Do... Do I open them now?" You ask, blinking back more tears. "I need to find stationary!"

"Already gotcha covered," Nemona tells you, notepad in hand. She assigns herself the task of noting down who has gifted you what for thank you note writing purposes later.

As it turns out, the crib is a gift from La Primera herself, lovingly assembled by the leaders of Team Star who leave not long after you thank them profusely. Penny also throws in a state-of-the-art baby monitor that she promises to show you how to use later. The car seat/stroller combo is Nemona's gift.

"I'm telling you, I want to find an engineer or someone who can figure out a way to create a baby side car that we can hook up to Raidon! But no one will take me up on the offer..."

"Yeah, Nems... I believe you..."

Hassel gifts you with a gorgeously refurbished, antique rocking chair with a beautiful swirling design etched into the sides of the arms and the rockers, while Brassius made a tiny mobile that hangs above the crib with little sunkerns and applins dancing in a circle.

"Special commission for a special champion." He tells you with a wink. "Not entirely Avant Garde, but we'll start the baby's art education young."

Larry goes next, opting to give you his gift, so he can politely excuse himself. "I know they're not very fun," He says with a shrug, depositing the massive box of diapers in an appropriate place. "But you'd probably have more fun shopping for fun things than I would anyway."

You give him a quick side hug and release him from his social obligation.

Saguaro's gift, a fancy pink high chair, is actually in the kitchen next to your dining table, near all the pastries that Katy brought for you and everyone. He shows you all of the different adjustments and things on it, but also makes sure that you know where he put the assembly guide which has instructions as well.

At this point, Salvatore is nearly bouncing with excitement to give you his gifts. Firstly, his wife wanted to be sure you got a little baby saucer for the baby to play in, but more importantly. "Baby sign language is the future!" Salvatore tells you, thrusting the book into your hands. "You'll be able to communicate with one another so much sooner than you could with words! Isn't that wonderful?"

Jacq also ends up giving you a ton of baby books, as well as a small bookshelf "To grow their library!" Included are some of those fabric page books that can't be torn or plastic books that can be taken in the bath, as well as some with buttons or finger puppets included. It's pretty clear that Jacq had a blast going through the children's section at the bookstore.

When you open up the gift from Tulip (which was also hastily signed as being from Dendra and Miriam as well) you're a bit confused. "Thank you so much. This is all...skincare and body care?"

"Of course," Tulip tells you in that beautiful twinkling voice of hers. "A good mother is one who takes care of herself, too. You can't pour from a cup that's empty. Remember that, okay?"

You nod and make a silent promise to take her words to heart.

Lastly, Director Clavell approaches you with two different gift bags. The first contains a few books on parenting that he claims were very useful to him "back in the day," and the other....

"'Love Clive?'" You ask with a smile. Clavell adjusts his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

"Of course. Your good buddy Clive sends his best regards and wanted to let you know to, ahem, 'Stay cheugy.'"

That gets the younger crowd absolutely roaring with laughter, much to Clavell's confusion, but he lets it slide.

Inside the gift bag is a tiny leather jacket, perfect for a little rocker baby. You stick out your lower lip as you run your thumbs across the tidy stitching. "Oh my goodness..." You hold it tight to your chest. It's so small, and you don't want to cry again, but Hassel's loud sniffling is making it difficult.

Clavell coughs into his fist. "A-actually, you know what, Clive might want to return the jacket..." He tells you, reaching for it.

"What, why?" You ask before noticing that several faces in the room have turned red from folks holding back laughter. You look down at the little garment again and turn it over in your hands.

On the back is a massive sewn-on patch with a winking brown coil and word art that stretches above and below it reading 'Poo Monster.'

"O-Oh no!" You cry, shaking with laughter as the rest of the room bursts out with you.

Clavell, for his part, looks suitably mortified, mumbling about how he had no idea about the art on the back, but you insist it gives the jacket even more charm, not daring to let him take it back.

The rest of the party goes well enough with games and snacks. Dendra and Nemona get a little too intense when it comes to competition, but it's all in good fun.

At one point, Miriam takes you aside and starts drilling you a bit. Nothing mean, but she wants to be sure you're prepared for what's to come in L&D.

She's about to launch into another horror story when Tulip stops her. "I think you've scared our darling champion enough for today, Dearest. This is a party, after all."

Miriam looks almost appropriately apologetic. "Sorry! Was I really scaring you? You know it's totally normal if you--"

Dendra butts in, pulling her girlfriend away. "That's enough for now, ossu!"

You definitely have questions for the teacher next time you and Rika go to class, but you push (don't say push) the thought to the back of your mind for now.

The evening winds down with just you, Nemona, and Rika lounging around. You're sprawled across your sofa, trying not to fall asleep in front of company, a cookie from Katy's patisserie propped on your tummy. Rika is in an armchair, scrolling through social media, and Nemona is tidying up off and on, trying to leave you with as little mess as possible.

"Was it a good surprise, bestie?" She asks you from the kitchen where she's just finished putting away all the extra food you've been left with.

"Yeah... Thank you both. Really. I didn't think I'd want something like this, but it was really nice..." You're teetering on the edge of tears again, so you try to keep from saying anything else.

"Of course, babes," Rika tells you, not looking up from her phone. "You know you got us here every step of the way."

"Yeah!" Nemona shouts from where she'd gone into the nursery to pick up wrapping paper. "Fuck Arven! Who needs that asshole anyway!"

"Arven?" Rika asks. "So that's the sperm donor's name?" She shrugs.

But you can't help crying at the mention of his name, not when you're already so emotional after everything that's happened.

Rika looks up to see you blubbering pathetically and stands. "Awww... C'mon now. You don't gotta do that. It's okay." She kneels by you, gathering you as best she can in her lithe arms.

"I-It's not his fault!" You whimper. "He needs to go live his life... I-I just wanted to be a part of it... I wanted him to want to be part of mine too..." You put a hand on your tummy. "Ours..."

"Hey!" Rika tells you, holding your wrists. "Fuck him! If he's too dense or too cowardly to want any part of your incredible life? That's his loss."

By now Nemona's made her way back into the living room. "What? Awww no, bestie! Don't cry! I'm sorry I even mentioned him! For real! He's absolute trash! Don't even worry about him and the stupid Kalosian floozies he's probably hanging out with!"

You sob all over again.

"Nemona!" Rika hisses.

"What?"

In the end, the pair of them end up calming you down with stupid PokeTube videos and more pastries.

They spend the night with you, just in case you need anything, but you can't bring yourself to tell either of how much you're craving a sandwich...along with the person who makes them for you best.

The last week or so leading up to your due date is, in a word, frustrating. You feel overly warm, overly sensitive, overly achey, and overly oval. You expected phantom contractions, and you were fine with them at first, but at this point it's almost as though you've been having light-ish menstrual cramps off and on for two weeks. That, on top of everything, else just has you nearly constantly on edge. After a day or so of the pains, you called your doctor who took you in, just in case. She assured you that things were normal, that you still had some time left to bake, and let you know to come back when the contractions became more intense and closer together or if you felt something was off.

So you waddled off and went back to life as best you could.

Key words there being "as best you could."

At this point though, you're frustrated to the point of tears, taking walks along your neighborhood, eating spicy foods, bouncing on a yoga ball, doing basically whatever you can think of to speed up your little potato's birthday.

You even drop by the League, but Rika stops you at the door, turns you around and walks you home.

"Absolutely not." She says. "Go rest. Go officially be on maternity leave or something. You're going to pop any second now, and you know it."

"Please, Rika," You plead. "I can't sleep, I can barely nap. I just need... I dunno. I don't even know what I need!" Stupid hormones get you crying again. "I just wanna be done! I don't know what to do with myself... "

"Hey, c'mon..." She tells you, pulling you in for a gentle hug. "You know better than anyone that you're almost there, right? Just... Just wait it out a bit longer. Your little bean'll know when they're done cooking."

"Yeah..." You sniffle into her shoulder. "You're right."

"I know I am," She says coolly. "But also I'm here for you to cry on and complain to any time, okay? Keep me in the loop on every little detail."

The two of you stand like that for a long moment as you try to will yourself back to calmness and go back home. Unfortunately...

"...Rika?"

"Yeah, Mama?"

"I think my water just broke."

As it turns out, you'd basically been in labor for the past little while and hadn't realized it, so by the time you and Rika get to the hospital, things start moving quickly.

She has the wits about her to text Nemona to grab your things from your apartment, which were thankfully already pre-packed and waiting in a bag, and within a few (okay, maybe more than just a few) hours, you have a sweetly bundled little baby boy in your arms, dozing softly.

The hospital put him in a little purple hat, but when you initially saw him, during that first moment where they brought him to your breast for that first moment of skin to skin contact, even with his tamped down hair still wet with everything, you could tell... He has two-toned hair.

The resemblances don't stop there, you think, but everyone else who sees him (at least with his hat on) thinks he's your little doppelganger. You're not sure. He looks just like Arven to you, and as much as that makes your heart ache, you're also so overwhelmingly filled with love, adoration, affection, warmth, relief, and utter devotion to this little baby.

You name him Basil. It suits him.

Even though you imagine your number is still blocked on his phone, you text Arven a picture when you and Basil have a moment alone together, just the two of you, later on that day.

He's here. I don't know if you care, necessarily? But... I love him so much, and I don't understand how you couldn't, so I thought I should share.

There's a near immediate response.

Message unable to be delivered.

#arven fanfic #arven x female reader #arven x reader #arven x pregnant!reader #pregnancy fic #pregnancy//#i think those were all the tags people wanted me to put this under so it could be black listed. please let me know if anyone needs others!#arvensimp kidfic

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aalissy · 6 days

Text

Reverse Crush

Anddd here is today's second chapter :). I hope you like it! I am forever tormented by how little reverse crush we got in the show. I always want more haha. Lemme know what you think <3

AO3

Adrien sighed quietly, leaning on his fist as he craned his neck back to stare blatantly at Marinette. It was study hall so he could finally get away with just focusing on her. Not for the first time that day, though did he wish he sat behind her. That way, he’d be able to peek up at her periodically through the day rather than having to crane his head back awkwardly to look at her.

She looked adorable. Just like she did every day. Her tongue was stuck out of the side of her mouth as she concentrated on whatever it was she was drawing.

Cute.

Clearing his throat, Adrien leaned forward, tapping her desk to get her attention. She looked up, her pretty blue eyes wide with shock.

“What are you drawing, Marinette?” he asked, hopeful to hear her soft voice as she directed her attention to him alone.

Her surprise at his sudden question melted into a warm smile, and Adrien couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement.

"I was actually just sketching some of my ideas down for fashion. It helps for inspiration when I’m creating." Marinette replied.

Adrien leaned in a bit closer, intrigued by her creative process. "Can I see?" he asked eagerly, his eyes sparkling with curiosity.

Marinette hesitated for a brief moment before nodding. She turned her notebook towards Adrien, revealing a series of intricate designs that showcased her talent and unique style.

The first page held numerous sketches of her and her friends in beautiful gowns. They all looked amazing. When he looked at the next page, however, his mouth dried. It was him. Or, well, Chat Noir, in a few different designs from Marinette.

Suddenly, Adrien was struck by the urge to commission her. He’d wear those designs every day. He bit it back, however. As much as he might want to, he couldn’t reveal his secret identity. Not even to someone as perfect as Marinette.

"These are beautiful, Marinette!" Adrien exclaimed, genuinely impressed. "You're so talented. I especially liked the way that you drew Chat Noir." He winked up at her.

An adorable red blush lit up her face at the compliment, and she smiled gratefully. He needed to figure out how to get her to do that more often. She looked so cute with a flush on her cheeks. "Thank you, Adrien. That means a lot coming from you, being the son of a famous designer and all."

Encouraged by her positive reaction, he couldn't resist teasing her playfully. "You know, if you ever need a model for your designs, I'd be happy to volunteer."

Marinette's eyes widened in surprise, and then she burst into giggles, her laughter like music to his ears. "Sure, Adrien. I'll keep that in mind. If ever I make one of these frilly dresses, I’ll make sure that you’re the first one I call." She winked.

His heart quickened at her reaction, feeling dizzy with giddiness.

Wink! She winked at him. How was he meant to mentally function after that?

Adrien’s grin must have looked completely ridiculous as he couldn’t stop it from stretching wide across his cheeks. “I’ll be looking forward to it,” he replied, his voice filled with genuine excitement.

As the bell signaling the end of study hall rang, Adrien reluctantly tore his gaze away from Marinette who was laughing softly at his words. He made a mental note to find a way to bring up the topic of her designs again soon, maybe during their next study hall.

After all, she had winked and laughed at him! That had to mean something... right? He wracked his brain, trying to remember if he had ever seen Marinette wink at anyone else. He couldn’t think of any which was a very pleasant thought.

As he walked to his next class, Adrien couldn’t shake off the image of Marinette’s sketches, especially the ones featuring Chat Noir. It was both thrilling and nerve-wracking to see himself depicted in her designs, knowing that she had no idea of his secret identity.

Maybe... maybe he could sneak over to her room one night, just to commission one of those designs. After all, if Adrien was able to take a peek at her designs, he figured she’d certainly let Chat Noir, a superhero, see them as well. With that plan in mind, Adrien’s grin stayed on his face for the rest of the day.

#adrinetteapril2024 #adrienetteapril2024 #adrinette #adrienette #miraculous #miraculous ladybug #ml #mlb #ml fic #fic #fanfic #reverse crush #reverse love square #adrinetteapril #adrienetteapril

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areislol · 1 year

Note

Please do more Avatar x Reader!!! I really loved your headcanons😭 Maybe even one where reader gets their own avatar? Like Jake

ft. neteyam, lo'ak, ao'nung

warnings. nothing really, just them being protective and sweet <3 gn. human! reader at first, can be seen as platonic/romantic! kinda short i'm sorry :(

a/n. so sorry for holding this off for a while! i wanted to get a few requests out while still focusing on my series so.. yeah.. enjoy this! // headcanons

neteyam x human - avatar! reader

oooo he's so excited!! he's waiting outside the lab every single day just to see your avatar making in progress

both norm and max had to kick him out multiple times since he (more like his tail) kept on dropping and whacking all the necessary equipment, but he didn't mean it, he's just too tall and his tail is just too.. whippy

he's like extremely protective of you already since you are a human, small, fragile and weak, in Pandora.

so when you're in your avatar he's 100x more protective of you! since you are still getting the hang of your body

literally BEGS max to let you out for a few hours, he just wants to spend some time with you <3

(max refused multiple times)

when you not in your avatar form he's protective of you, like what i said earlier, he's always in front of you when he hears a twig snapping or the rustle of leaves.

and he STILL does that even when you're in your avatar form. you are still learning how to control your body!!

neteyam will teach you how to walk like a na'vi and show you the little small tricks that the na'vi body can do that the humans cant.

he will hold your arms and your waist when you're taking your first baby steps <33

speaking of that, he will literally be in the same room with you when you're being transferred into your avatar body. and boy is he anxious, his leg is bobbing up and down when he sits and sometimes stands up just to look over at your avatar in the tube.

neteyam is ecstatic when he sees your avatars' eye open, he has a bright and big smile on his face and absolutely nothing can wipe it off.

he will be patient and easy with you, telling you to lay down and to slowly get up. his hand is on your back as he helps you sit up, his eyes scanning your face to see any signs of discomfort and pain.

he will refuse to let you walk on your own, eat on your own, stand up on your own or do anything by yourself.

he will SIT you down when you try to get up, there's no point in arguing with him because he will always win no matter what.

(if he has the permission to) he shows and teaches you how to hunt, how to track animal footprints, how to spot the homes of animals, the weak spots, how to eat, the manners, literally everything.

neteyam is the absolute happiest when you hum in delight after eating one of the specialties during a gathering.

will fight anybody who insults you. doesn't care about his father scolding him, will just fight them straight up LMAO

like he won't take shit

most days, he will literally lay down beside you, admiring your face as you sleep peacefully on the prickly grass

since he's so used to seeing your human features, it's a bit odd seeing you as a na'vi. his favourite thing is how he can still tell that you're you, even when you're in a different body.

your bioluminescent freckles that glow brightly in the night sky, that make it look like you are blending in one with nature, or Eywas' creation, should i say make you look absolutely ethereal.

lo'ak x human - avatar! reader

just like his brother he is VERY excited. he will bother you and the scientists that are helping you make your very own avatar

"when will you be able to see it?" "when can I see it?" "when will you be able to you know.. get.. into it..?"

you have to literally shush the boy millions of times cause he just won't shut up about it!! but he's just excited, that's all!

lo'ak hangs around with you in your room, joins you in watching them do whatever they're doing with your avatar, sticking a needle in your arm with your blood and what not.

his tail hits you so many times when doing this. "lo'ak! will you stop that!" "stop what?" "your tail, it keeps on hitting me!"

you may even have to grab onto it.

when you finally transfer your consciousness into your avatar, lo'ak (and maybe his siblings as well) is there to witness it and god, is he nervous.

fidgeting, constantly asking them when it'll be done and if you're okay, checks your heart monitor wayyy too much

smiles like a madman when he sees you awake in your avatar form and runs to hug you but is stopped by the scientists

literally side eyes the scientist or gives them a dirty look.

lo'ak squeezes the living life out of you, and you're just... there..

he slowly gets you out of the bed and walks with you but when your knees wobble and collapse he's quick to catch you and he's like 'damn i gotta help you now'

he's stumbling as well LOL

he can not contain his happiness like, at all.

his tail is whipping side to side and that smile is plastered on his face the entire week day

helps you walk and get use to your body, shows you every single fruit there is and tells you to eat up like bae this is my second time in my avatar form.

lo'ak will try to impress you, he already tried and did when you were still human but now that you're na'vi, it makes a slight different, like it's a new you (it is) meaning, new attempts of showing off his skills :)

although his father may not allow him to teach you their ways, he will still do it when he's not around.

"psst- y/n! come here... wanna show you how to catch some big fish >:))"

UGH HE IS THE SWEETEST

he may be a tease but he WILL help you, make sure that you're comfortable and will not hesitate to punch people in their face if they talk abt you

like when he hears someone mention your name he's on alert and eavesdrop, he wants to make sure that he's not hearing what he thinks he's hearing and if his suspicious are correct you best believe he's gonna get a real good scolding.

also!! he can now play-fight with you, without needing to think about hurting you! since you are much taller and bigger now, he won't need to worry about you being hurt <333

although he is still careful with you, lets you win sometimes if he's feeling nice.

+ you guys are the like chaotic duo and he's LIVING for it, he can finally have someone that he ACTUALLY likes (no hate to kiri/tuk) and matches his energy

kiri doesn't have the time for his 'master schemes' and tuk is just to sweet.. no way he can bring her onto adventures without being scolded.

ao'nung x human - avatar! reader

babes tries to hide his excitement but fails so hard. rolls his eyes and is like 'uhhmmm no why would i care for that🙄🙄"

like u do, admit it.

he wouldn't be there, really, but he would be like a few feet away from where the lab is and just tries to hide himself from your view but you and the other scientists can literally see him.

he keeps an eye on your avatar from afar, trying to make sure that nothing happens and if something did then he'd know who did it or what happened (if he can make sense of it)

so many people notice him side eyeing you when you're around, mindlessly drawing shapes on the sand before frowning when the wave washes it away.

he's not there to see you transferring to your avatar sadly, but when you don't come to visit him or the sully family he gets worried and just paces back and fourth, waiting for you to come.

and what he doesn't expect is you to be in your avatar form and do you look so... well all he could say is 'nice'.

takes a BIG gulp of nothing and acts like everything's normal. and sometimes he looks down instinctively but he remembers that you aren't as small.

you're maybe a head shorter than him, but as a human you were like 2-3 heads shorter, or more.

he can't really make fun of you being small now

he will NEVER say this and will drag it with him in his graze, but he misses your human form.

ao'nung thinks your absolutely good looking in your avatar form, yes, he still misses your human form, your funny looking features that he always admires when the golden sun shines on your skin.

but he's not complaining!

depending on your avatar choice, whether you are a metkayina or omaticaya he will teach you the ways.

how to swim, catch fish for food, taming and riding your Ilu, giving you tips and tricks and so on

and he's oddly nice to you.. ish..

ao'nung pays more attention when it comes to you, and his hands linger on your body for way too long.. but you don't notice, you never do.

rotxo and everybody knows what's up 😏

he's absolutely smitten for you, trying to impress you with pretty shells and teases you less.. just wants to show you how cool he is

likes seeing you bond with the children or people of the metkayina, especially his sister or his family.

like when you two braid each others hair <3 he might even take lessons on how to braid hair which makes people raise their brows at him and smirk.

he's not thaaaaatttt protective of you... okay that is a lie...

but he doesn't need to protect you much since everybody knows not to mess with ao'nung.. (and his gang or whatnot)

he will TRY to go the pacifist route but if it doesn't work out then you know how it ends...

note: if you would like to be added to the avatar taglist pls just ask me!! dont be shy <3

taglist: @tomansimp, @howlandhaku, @luciphyls, @vizkiz869, @aonungobsession, @pandorainmymind, @luvlykrispy, idk if there was more so if i forgot you im sorry!!

liking + following + reblogs are very much appreciated!!

another note: this was so short so uhm, not so proud of it but hey! i wrote this in like 2-3 hours? tell me tell me t-t--t-t-t-t-tell me

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!

#avatar x reader #neteyam x reader #lo'ak x reader #ao'nung x reader #avatar fanfiction #atwow #avatar the way of water #—✧ · . fandom: avatar

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13eyond13 · 5 months

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a friend of mine who isn't into Death Note asked me why people ship Lawlight. I gave her a pretty good answer but I feel that couldn't encapsulate it fully and you are the most articulate/analyzer person I can think of here, can you help me?

omg, I'm flattered you think that, but a bit worried I won't be able to speak for everybody about this! I'll probably just have to mostly say why I like to ship it and hopefully that will suffice...

1) the constant tension and the mind games between them is the heart and soul of the series to me. Light's a complicated character that is both very entertaining to follow and also sort of an infuriating bastard to watch as well, so when L waltzes in being like "HOLD ON A MINUTE HERE I KNOW IT'S YOU AND I'M DEFINITELY GONNA PROVE IT" and Light both seems to get extremely excited about how clever he is and also horrified and determined not to lose, that makes for a very charged dynamic that keeps you on the edge of your seat. Light's curiously positive reactions to L opposing him, as well as the way L intuitively understands him and pushes his buttons so effectively, is definitely one of the funniest and most intriguing things to watch in the entire show.

2) there's a lot going on in the narrative to continuously draw parallels between them and to sort of suggest that they're the true equal and peer that the other one has never actually had their entire lives, the solution to the boredom and loneliness and aloof superiority they've both been feeling due to their above-average intelligence and privileged positions and ambitious competitive stubborn streaks and so on. People love that and also find it super tragic/angsty or fascinatingly ironic and darkly funny that they end up only meeting in an enemies, "you're the closest thing to a real friend I've ever had but one or the other of us will have to die" sort of way

3) This part of their relationship also gets me as well - they probably would not have easily met if Light HADN'T been Kira, because L never has to meet any of the people he works alongside nor any of the criminals he catches in person - Light was just good enough at being a criminal to force L to meet him in person, basically. And there's also no guarantee that if they DID meet in other circumstances that they would have clicked so weirdly well as they do, because their cat and mouse game was probably the best way they could both impress each other the most and prove their own intelligence and entertainingness to each other as well. The immense difficulty of setting up this ship so that it actually works is part of the enduring appeal to me.

4) I think there's just a lot of intrigue to how much is left unsaid between them the entire time. They literally never get to have an actual straightforward heart-to-heart even once in the story, but they're seen obsessively thinking about each other the entire time (and Light continues to do so for years after L's death, even to the point of comparing everyone else who opposes him to L unfavorably after his death and admitting he feels bored again now that L is gone). I think a lot of fans were kind of dying to see them interact in a more straight-forward way

5) the handcuffs are certainly fairly suggestive and kinky hahaha... and the memory loss arc definitely brings up a lot of interesting "what if" type scenarios in every shipper's mind. Not everybody is convinced that they really hate each other, and seeing them work together on the case like that causes a lot of people to think about how they might get along if Light had never picked up the notebook in the first place. The fandom has a lot of people who really like the idea of them together whenever Light isn't Kira, and also a lot of people who think their dynamic is superior and works better when Light IS Kira - and having both of these different dynamics between them presented to us in canon makes for even more interesting possibilities to explore

#there is probably more to it than that as well #but these were the main things i could think of off the top of my head #ask #anon #lawlight #p

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redfoxwritesstuff · 17 days

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Sunflower, Book1, Chapter 16

Tom Hiddleston x OFC Series rated: M Chapter warnings: Our flashback is a bit.. Uhum. Steamy again but not much of a flashback this chapter. AN: Good Day, ladies, gents, sporks and forks. Everyone have a good easter that celebrates? Good! Good! Very good. Well, class- we're spending this chapter with Tom, isn't that wonderful? I know y'all have missed him.

PS- You have @evedia to thank for the bonus chapter this week. I'm an attention whore and they asked for it. Not always a guaranteed success, fyi. ~~~~~<3<3

It was finally Friday. Tom swore he would be back today and Mia was excited for it. He had kept his word, so far at least. He had called every night, sometimes early enough that he was able to read Sally a bedtime story.

She could see it, what their marriage could be like, if she closed her eyes and just trusted. It was just the shape of it, a vague outline waiting to be fleshed out by time and emotions. It was there though and being able to see that gave her hope.

The hope terrified her but maybe, just maybe, it was worth the risk?

She had moved her shifts around, calling in favors long owed to pull it off but she had the night off along with Saturday. It would have been nice to swing Sunday too but she didn’t really have any paid time off to spare for it. It was better than nothing though.

The past few days, when Sally was asleep or playing, Mia had her spent her time watching interviews and press events. Unexpected jealousy clawed at her as she watched him charm and flirt with interviewers but with each video, she learned more about the man she was married to.

Constantly she reminded herself of what he had told her- the man he shows press and the world isn’t exactly the same as the man he is in private. There were small inklings of that difference that she could find.

The man she had gotten to know had a quieter edge to him. He was charming and eager to smile but would be perfectly fine spending an evening sitting, long legs stretched out while reading a book with the lights down low.

While she had known he was an actor, she hadn’t really a grasp of the kind of training he had undergone.

He wasn’t Hollywood. He wasn’t a few lucky breaks out of running hot dishes out from a kitchen and hoping the right person saw him- or whatever the aspiring male actor equivalent was. Or was it the same? He was an actor by training and trade, educated and refined.

Six hours until she had to head to the airport. Nine hours until she was face to face with Tom again. What would being reunited with her husband be like?

~~~~~<3

Tom was exhausted. It was three in the morning on Friday and he was eager to get out of New York City. Usually, he would enjoy his time in the city but he had more important things he needed to be doing, more important places he needed to be.

He had called his mother a few days prior. It was something he knew he should have done sooner but he wasn’t sure exactly what he was going to tell her. Then she found out thanks to a tabloid and it became something he couldn’t put off any more.

Damned gossip rags.

Understandably, she was hurt by missing his wedding and the idea that he had hidden a whole relationship from her. It was a momentary relief when he told her that he hadn’t hidden any relationship from her for about five seconds before the meaning hit.

Finding out your son got sloshed while wallowing in self pity and married a total stranger wasn’t exactly news that would make any mother proud. It was a story that was hard to swallow. She had believed her son to be better than that and, if he was honest, Tom had believed himself to be better than that too. Just as Tom had thought though, she appreciated his dedication to giving the marriage a fair chance.

They had talked for over an hour, catching up. She was eager to learn everything Tom could share about his bride, limited though the information was. It wasn’t enough to paint a true picture of how wonderful Mia was and that frustrated him to an extent. It also renewed his desire to learn even more.

He knew she hadn’t attended any higher education but why not? She was raised in Las Vegas, born in Nevada but why was she still living there? Had she not wanted to move or was it out of her power? Had she not wanted to further her education or was it a access issue?

There was so much still to learn. He wouldn’t let her slip out of his mind again. She wouldn’t be a family he kept on the back burner. There were countless things he didn’t know he didn’t know about her and her life.

That’s why he moved his flight up, taking the earliest flight he could. He had always enjoyed the promotions and engagements that came with his high profile projects but this time he was eager to be done. He wanted to return to the shadows of normalcy. He wanted to return to her.

~~~~<3

Tom propped a little New York stuffed bear on top of his carry on. It didn’t quite fit but he didn’t think anyone would call him on it. There was a benefit to being at the airport at four in the morning- there were less eyes on him. The less eyes, the less pictures and the less questions.

He had been careful so far not to mention Sally when talking to damn near anyone other than his own mother. Children were so delicate and the media was unforgiving at best, brutal at worst. There wasn’t much he could do to protect Mia in the grand scheme of things but he wouldn’t be the first to insist on privacy for a child. He hoped he would be able to do the same for Sally.

In hindsight, doing something as careless as going to the playground as a family was risky. But what was done, was done. It seemed, at least for now, that he had gotten off lucky.

He hadn’t been able to escape being noticed in the airport. It wasn’t terribly surprising considering his presence in the city wasn’t unknown. Still, it frequently felt like an invasion of privacy when fans would ask about the stuffed animal on his bag or about his wife while he was simply trying to get back to her.

Most wished him the best and congratulated him but still, it wasn’t uncommon for them to ask questions that he would not answer. Thankfully it wasn’t as bad as it could have been.

~~~~~<3

With how much he traveled, he should have been able to sleep on flights better than he did that morning. He dozed some but a nap was going to be greatly needed. At least he would be gaining three more hours to the day with the magic of time zones.

Would it be selfish to hope to use part of that gained time for an afternoon nap? Tom wasn’t sure. What he did know was that he was run ragged and tired. It was hard to be as kind to those who recognized him as he wanted to be.

~~~~~<3

Airport flowers didn’t look as great as they did in movies. That surprised Tom, as he stood in front of the display. It wasn’t a thing he had ever gave any thought to before. After spending far too long, he decided airport flowers were a bit of movie magic.

He would have to stop by a florist on his way home.

Home.

What a thought that was? He had a home in America. It wasn’t anywhere convenient for most of his work considering his contract with Marvel but it was a home. The idea of managing two homes could quickly become overwhelming but for now, it was what was right.

Would she be alright with him considering the apartment his home too? It was probably something he would need to ask her but how do you go about asking your wife if her home is yours?

~~~~~<3

Sitting in the Lyft, he was mildly annoyed to have been instantly recognized by the driver. He had a large vase of flowers held tightly between his knees as the man chattered on about Loki. It was a topic he typically would enjoy but now, the only thing he wanted was to lean his head back and try to snag some sleep.

It amazed him at how people had latched onto the villain he had played. Tom himself was rather fond of the character and his countless Shakespearean callbacks.

But it worried him just the same, the driver taking him home knew his passenger was Loki.

Tom had the driver drop him off st the gate rather than going any further. The last thing he needed was the exact area in the sprawling complex that was theirs to be identified so soon.

Hopefully in a few weeks or so, interest would die down. There would be a lull in activity now that the press was done. It would be calm until convention time at least.

What did that calmness look like though? how much of that time would be spent here in the States? His mind swirled with the questions around the simple logistics. They had so man logistics that they needed to figure out and this was just one small part of it.

He had a few weeks to figure this out. A marriage crash course, if you will. Should they enlist a marriage counselor to help? Or was that not something they did?

He realized he was standing in front of the apartment door, vase in hand with a start. When had he gotten there? He had been walking through a sea of his own thoughts that he hardly remembered entering the gate. The flowers still looked good and though the vase was slightly damp from spillage, he had managed to keep the flowers upright while walking.

He was nervous to knock on the door. Should he knock or walk right in? He had the code and it was his name on the lease along with her. It was just as much his home as her’s, right? But what if she didn’t consider it that way?

Would she be happy he came earlier? It had sounded like she had been disappointed that his return had been delayed during their first phone call but could that have just been because he didn’t tell her? Was it silly to be worrying about this when they had spent the days sense talking fairly regularly?

Probably.

That didn’t stop him from standing outside the door to the apartment he had paid for as adrenalin flooded his system though. He had missed her, missed them both more than he had expected. The few days they had spent together, while high stress due to the logistics of the situation and trying to convince her to give it a chance, was a reprieve he had enjoyed.

“Oh come on, stop being a pansy.” Tom whispered under his breath, gathering his nerve and ringing the doorbell.

~~~~~<3

The sound of the doorbell pulled her away from the mixing bowl. Hopefully it wouldn’t wake Sally- it was getting later in the morning and she’d be waking up any time now but there was something oh so peaceful about the time before the chaos of a child waking.

Mia hadn’t been expecting anyone. There was nothing she was waiting to be delivered. There wasn’t any reason she could think of that someone would be at her door.

Looking through the peep hole, all she could see was flowers. Every true crime documentary and horror movie flashed through her mind with how the flowers prevented her from seeing anything else. The thoughts were quickly pushed aside though. It was a gaited community with a locked building entry door as well. The odds of someone coming to murder her was in the basement.

“Hello?” The door opened to revel a man standing holding a far too large vase of flowers. “Tom?” She guessed, more based on hope and how tall the figure holding the flowers was than anything else.

“Surprise?” He smiled at her sheepishly as he waited for her reaction. “These are for you.”

“You’re early.” Was the first thing to come out of her stunned mouth as he passed the flowers into her hands. Reaching into the apartment, she set them on the end table that had taken residence by the front door. The vase almost fell to the ground until she shoved it further back.

“Is that alright? I wanted to surp-” He was cut off as the air was knocked out of his chest.

Mia had launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his torso and holding him firmly. The sudden affection surprised him. Until now, he had been the one initiating every touch carefully, trying to chip through the walls she had surrounded herself with.

“You came back.” Emotion made her voice thick and his chest muffled it even more.

“I told you I would.” Tom wrapped his arms around her waist and held her just as tightly as she held him. “I’m sorry I was delayed.”

“I’m sorry,” Mia came back to herself. How silly to just throw herself at him? It had felt good to be held in his arms though. Stepping back, she put some space between them.

With her hands resting on his chest, she could feel the rapid pounding of his heart. His arms were loosely around her waist until one disappeared. She didn’t notice at first, he had gotten lost in his eyes.

Those eyes she had seen in countless pictures and videos over the last few days. She had been too timid to notice how beautiful his eyes had been while he had been there. Somehow she had managed to sleep next to him, to talk with him about a future together and never notice the small beauty of his eyes.

A warm hand rested on her cheek, making her realize he was closer than he had been, the small distance she had created disappearing. She’d been so lost in his eyes she hadn’t noticed him stepping forward or pulling her back to him.

“I missed you.” His voice was almost lost in a sea of gravel. Then his lips hesitantly touched hers.

The kiss was soft and sweet. At first, she tensed up at the unexpected action but she melted into it after a moment. Running her hand up his chest and around his shoulder, her fingers found the short hairs at the nape of his neck. Then she was holding him as much as he was holding her.

~~~~~<3

The dress was hiked high around her thighs as he held her against the wall. She could feel his member straining against his pants as he held her in place largely with his pelvis.

Warm wet kisses and soft nips worked at her neck and shoulders as she pushed his jacket off his shoulders. First one arm, then the other left her and shed the jacket sleeves. It fell to the floor without a care.

His large hand gripped at her thigh as he yanked at the heels off her feet, throwing them blindly behind him. Then searing hot hands pushed their way up her thighs gripping her hips under the skirt.

~~~~~<3

Tag List: @winterisakiller @alexakeyloveloki @jennyggggrrr, @dangertoozmanykids101, @tilltheendwilliwrite, @tinchentitri, @wizardcherryblossom, @buttercupcookies-blog, @violethaze, @kats72, @soulpiercing, @evedia

#Tom hiddleston x ofc #tom hiddleston x oc #Tom hiddleston x original female character #Tom hiddleston x original character #tom hiddleston fanfic #Tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston rpf

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room-surprise · 3 months

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Dungeon Meshi Season 1, Episode 3 Review

I think it was fantastic, and like the other episodes my complaints are all so minor, they're basically nitpicks. Spoilers below!

The Japanese subtitles are still kinda bad, when you watch the English dub afterwards it somehow manages to better convey the same information without leaving anything out. Japanese performances are fantastic but yeah the subtitles really suck a lot of the life out of them. There's some gems in the dub performance, like Chilchuck saying "Sword, please" to Laios instead of "can I borrow your sword" or something more elaborate.

Everything that was good about the original manga chapters is in this episode, and this was one of the early chapters that hooked me and my spouse into Dungeon Meshi - seeing how Laios figured out the living armor and how he defeated it was something really cool and thoughtful that stood out from other media to us. It was clever and novel and went into monsters and speculative biology in a way that we both adored. This episode is also the one that really foreshadows the rest of the series and it's themes. If something is alive, it desires something, and if you can figure out what it desires you can find a way to defeat it. If something is alive, you can kill it, and if you can kill it you can eat it.

All of the fight scenes in this episode are incredible, and there's tons of fun camera shots and interesting choices being made. Love the bit where Marcille catches a helmet in the loop of her staff. Also loved the bit where she caught Laios' head in the loop of her staff and shook him around angrily. They found ways to include information from the extra monster tidbits into the main narrative, which is fantastic! I'm hoping they'll be able to do this for the rest of the anime as well, because there's a LOT of vital information and funny jokes in the tidbits that enhance the story.

So nice to finally have our first Senshi panty shot and know that they'll at least give us some of those.

Though the animation is spectacular, there is a noticeable style shift between the first two episodes and 3. They obviously have some very talented animators working on this episode (the suits of armor are all rock solid, detailed, and move in fantastic ways) but they are NOT really good at drawing the human characters on-model and it shows. It's not awful but it is noticeable. I'm glad they at least were able to keep it consistent, the characters look that way through the whole episode and don't switch back and forth between individual scenes. That would have been a lot more distracting. Pet peeve, I hated the gag with the egg sack flying through cosmic space to show Laios had figured out the secret of the armor. I didn't think it was that funny, and I felt it interrupted the flow of the already very exciting and tense fight scene. Just the memory sequence being drawn in such a crazy loose style was enough for me! And the style of it flying through the cosmos and everything just felt very out of place and modern. Oh, and Laios says "oh my god" at one point in the dub, which also annoys me, but I think is better than "jeez" since a pagan could theoretically say "oh my god."

But overall a fantastic episode and it gives me a lot of hope for the rest of the series. I was worried that they were going to compress the story too much and try to fit 4 chapters into this episode, because of how they put 3 chapters into episode 2, but they gave this 2-chapter story room to breathe, which it very much needed. Can't wait for next week! I think we'll get the golem story as well as the orcs.

#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #dunmeshi #spoilers #delicious in dungeon anime #delicious in dungeon spoilers #dungeon meshi anime #review #my stuff

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vlkyriesgf · 1 year

Text

pink cigarette // cruella x fem!reader

a/n: OKOK i finally got this out im so sorry it took so long! took a break but jumped right back into it. courtesy to pink cigarette for motivation for this fic <3

summary: As captivated as you are by Cruella, work for the Baroness’s Charity Event is the second thing to invade your mind. Seeing her on the balcony has you debating whether or not it’s the perfect time to let her know how much she’s charmed you.

warnings: mention of fake death, internalized homophobia (like for one sentence), some previous rudeness and insults, very much fluff and pining! but all in all enemies to lovers i guess you could say?

word count: 2.6k

Helping Cruella get her plan in motion for the Baroness’s Charity Event had you busy day after day. It was nice to get back into how it was before the “accident” which had you scared for someone that you had come to care for deeply.

When Cruella brought Artie on board to help her make her label, he also brought you along knowing that you’d be useful, since he considers you an amazing tailor. At first, she seemed like some cold, self-centered designer wanting to make her way to the top of the industry.

During the series of her stunts you’d get snarky remarks and sarcasm for your work. Though your designs would come out great and seem like they’re greatly appreciated, but you couldn’t help but have feeling like you’d be thrown out the moment she doesn’t need you anymore. It was comments that made you feel small and like if you were wasting your time helping her. Maybe it was because of the way she’d talk you down. She was so close to the point where her attempt at intimidating you worked, leaving the scent of her perfume lingering around you. Honestly you don’t know how you put up with her at all.

Cruella showed a liking to you over time, meaning she wasn’t as hard on you as she was on Horace and Jasper. Surprisingly, she told you about her motivation for what she’s doing: her mom and that little necklace. She even went as far to tell you her real name. It was bittersweet, though it was mostly her talking and you listening as her back faced you, unable to see her vulnerability. But you swore heard something genuine in her tone as she decided to show a little bit of herself to you, this changed your mindset about her tremendously.

Unexpectedly, she kept you and Artie around and you noticed that your relationship with her basically went from trial and error to a genuine friendship. You thought it might have been because she had another girl to be around, you know, similar struggles and/or interests. Though, you never would have thought that it would because she started to fancy you.

Throughout the preparation days for her planned Fashion Riot at the Baroness’s Spring Show, she was a little more flirtatious while being cautious about it. Instead of the usual spiteful comments, she’d give you smiles and glances and if she’s having a good day she’ll give you a cup of tea. You admired those gestures and it kind of excited you, making you think what would come next. So it’s safe to say that you were distraught when you saw the warehouse on fire and definitely relived when she came back to you alive.

You now find yourself going around and doing a few finishing touches before you catch a glimpse of Cruella sitting outside on the balcony. Buddy is comfortably sat by the window, his tail wagging when you come near to pet him.

Looking out the window, Cruella is staring out into the city as the sun sets. You gaze at her for a little longer, she looks so peaceful, like it was the first time in a few months that she’s able to relax this way. She’s beautiful. But you can’t confess to her now, not tonight. It was obvious to you that she was in a contemplative state. Of course she would be though, tonight is a big deal for her.

You decide to pour some tea for her and yourself. Walking back towards the window, you place both cups near Buddy before stepping outside. You take a deep breath in as the cold weather hits you, slightly shuffling in your coat while taking the cups and using them to warm you hands.

“Feeling alright?” you ask her after clearing your throat. Sitting on the window ledge, you admired her as faced the city.

“You could say that.” she replied, her tone almost showing no emotion, leaving you to figure out if she was telling you the truth.

“Tea?” you softly spoke out. You aren’t sure where this interaction was going but honestly you’re willing to go with it.

Cruella nods as she finally turns her head to your person, tapping the space next to her. You assumed that she meant to put the cup next to her, so when you turned back after placing it you didn't expect her to call out to you.

“Come sit, darling. I don’t want you to tire yourself out before the tonight.” she coos out.

When you realized the action, you felt your face heat up as you make your way next to her. Her eyes never came off you, even when you take a sip of your tea while you muster up the courage to ask her something.

“Do you really want to go through with this?” you don’t face her as you ask, mainly because you know the answer and expect her to berate you about why she is.

All Cruella does is sigh and put her attention back to back to the city. You were taken aback but weren’t entirely surprised at the action. You’re definitely not going to take her back facing you as an answer this time.

“Cruella, no, I’m being serious.” you retort, attempting to move your head into her view so she can’t avoid your question.

“Awh and you’re so cute when you are.” she teases, quickly turning to you as she said so for your reaction. It’s just the one she wants, her comment flusters you but to her surprise you managed to swiftly compose yourself as you gave her a serious look.

Sighing, she looks at her lap in thought, trying to figure out the right words. “I want to. Have to, need to, it doesn’t matter but its for her.” She looks back up at you and sees you’re finally meeting her eyes, catching her off guard a bit. “..And for me, of course.”

You hum in reply, knowing that shes referring to her adoptive mother. Though, you can’t shake the fact that she can actually get killed this time if anything goes wrong.

“Look, you’re so strong and brave I wish you knew you don't always have to be. I'm here, if you're ever willing to let me help shoulder those burdens." you insisted.

You put your cup down as you move your body towards hers. Looking down, you realized that the tip of your fingers were on hers. “I just want you to be careful. You need to look after yourself as well, not just us so don’t actually die this time okay?” you plead, staying fixated on both of your hands.

Cruella stays staring at you, not just with awe but also with perplexity. “I won’t.” she says breathlessly, the feeling of your hands brushing around hers making her heart race.

To her, it almost felt like a promise, it sounded like your cared about her. She doesn’t know exactly why or when it happened, but Cruella feels like she has to protect you. She came to terms with her infatuation, knowing that there’s so many things that she admires about you. Then again, her mind has always been obscure, you have to let her know gently so she doesn’t-

“Even after all this, after how I treated you, the amount of trust you have in me is truly marvelous.” The recalling of her behavior around you before made you lift your head, it almost had you protest but she continues.

“Sometimes you amaze me, darling. I mean you always do, you have such intuition and real wisdom about things. I like understanding the way you see the world, how you see me." she admits, realizing with each word, she takes a risk.

“Well then, I guess it’s safe to say that we can leave that behind us.” Finally looking back down, you notice that her hands are lightly holding yours. Though it’s not your entire hand and it’s just over your fingers, that gave you enough sense of bravery and reason to let her know how you feel.

“Cruella, I feel like there’s something I should tell you.” you almost blurt out, quickly darting your head up towards her which startles her for a moment.

Stopping yourself to collect your thoughts, she stares at you out of confusion. “Alright, spit it out then, darling.”

Wondering what you’re going to say next, Cruella softly rubs her thumb across your fingers to see if it calms you. It didn’t, though it feels nice, it’s getting you no where near to what you want to say.

Doubt and fear clouds your mind but you breathe in and decide to see how this plays out. After all, this could be the only opportunity to tell her. You turn to her and grab hold of her hands, having them rest on top of your knees comfortably in your gentle grasp.

“Cruella, I really like you. I know it’s.. “unnatural” for me to feel this way about another woman but, honestly, I can’t help it.”

You looked down out of nervousness saying that last part, her staring made your mind start to trail off thinking she was about to explode on you. She didn’t do that at all, surprisingly. Instead, Cruella’s expression is plastered with confusion, her eyes still locked on you. You see how they shift from side to side as if she’s trying to some some complex puzzle.

The silence is deafening, you quickly remove your hand off hers as you’re about to stand and begin to apologize. “Okay, never mind, this wasn’t a good time for this. Just forget that came out of me, I’m sor-“

“No wait, stop.” Cruella interrupts, grabbing your forearm to stop you from walking away. “I was cruel to you, why are you not intimidated like the others?”

Why is she asking that? Did she disregard what was just said? You assume this is her processing, so you just comply. “I said it’s in the past” you start off, still standing with your arm in her grasp while.

“But if it makes you feel better I was, my perspective changed later on. You’re a person too, you know. One that’s capable of change no matter your status or ego.” you tell her, seeing her face soften as you sit back down.

“After the fire, I’ve put you all under great worry. Ever since the start of all this, all I’ve done is hurt the ones I love.” Cruella doesn’t make eye contact, knowing it’s a sign of vulnerability.

Though, what she said gave you hope, she was being vulnerable and admitted her love. As much as you didn’t want to push her boundaries, you really needed to know if her feelings were mutual.

“So you do love me?” you say abruptly. Her shoulders tense slightly but drop right after. She’s tried of trying to go around this conversation in any way out of fear, so she decides to just go with it. No matter how it ends.

“Unfortunately, I do” she finally says, reluctantly.

“Why say it like that then?” you ask her, confused as to why she seems to hate the idea of why she likes you.

“Because I can lose you, don’t you understand?! What’s the point of having you to myself if there’s a chance where you can be taken away in an instant?”

All you could do was stare and listen as Cruella continued her short outburst. You wanted to give her a big, warm hug since this was probably the first time in a while she was able to express her emotions like this.

“I’m sorry. It’s just..you’re very valuable to me” Cruella then shifts closer to you to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, hoping that her motion of gentleness calms you.

Bursts of confidence surge within you as you decide to hold her hand in place. “It’s nice to know you mean it.”

You then turn your head towards her wrist, placing a kiss and letting your lips linger. A small smile forms on you lips after feeling the pulse on her wrist.

Before anything else can be said, you hear a honk from below. Startling the two of you and feeling Cruella’s warm hand swiftly leave your space.

Leaning towards the edge you see Horace standing next to a newly fixed car not believing that it was the very car that Cruella had driven, badly, after the Black and White Ball.

“When I fixed it, I noticed a name. Do you now what this car’s called?”

Your eyes shift to Cruella in confusion to Horace’s question, her attention still on him.

“A devil!” He proudly yells out, not knowing he mispronounced the name on the license plate.

“Horace, I think it’s pronounced “DeVille”. You know, “De-Ville”?” you reply, chuckling as you spoke.

“I like that.” you hear Cruella simply say before she grabs your hand to head back inside. You tug her arm to stop her. “Cruella?”

“Yes darling?” she replies genuinely as she turns to you, the nickname that she always throws around seeming personal this time.

“Please be careful tonight.” You tell her, remembering the possibly life changing event tonight with the Baroness.

Cruella sighs and and fully envelopes you into her embrace, you hands comfortably placed on her waist and her head slightly tilted down to meet your face.

“I will, love. Don’t worry too much, it’ll mess with your lovely head while going through with the plan” Cruella stares at you for a moment, an intrusive thought starts to swarm her mind. She then takes hold of your face and teasingly squishes your cheeks, making your lips pucker.

You’re about to protest since you don’t know why she’s squishing your cheeks, furrowing your eyebrows out of confusion. She then leans in and pecks your lips quickly, gently resting her forehead against yours afterwards.

You freeze up because of that, it’s nice to see this side of her. The side where it seems she has no worry and where she can begin to appreciate these new moments.

“I wonder if this would’ve been different before the fire” you whisper, breaking the comforting silence. Keeping your eyes closed, too shy to meet her eyes after what she did.

“I’m not too sure. I don’t want to ponder on that.” A few seconds pass until Cruella feels you lean in close for a kiss before she backs up a little, confusing you once more.

“What’s wrong?” you look up at her, your tone coming out a little defeated.

“Doing that would be very dramatic, darling. I’ll give you this for now.” Cruella places her hand under your chin and gently lifts your head, titling it to the side a bit.

Goosebumps quickly form on your neck to your shoulders from the sudden cold air hitting your skin. You see Cruella lean down towards your neck, feeling a soothing mix of her warm breath and the cool air.

She places a kiss, similar to the one left on her wrist, where your neck and head meet.

The feeling of her lips makes you melt but when she places one last peck, the blissful feeling is replaced by a tickly feel that makes you let out a small giggle. Facing you again, Cruella fixes your hair to cover the mark her lipstick left.

“When this is all over, you’ll get a proper one, I promise.” she says as she finishes adjusting your hair and coat.

“I guess I have something else to look forward to then.” you tell her, gently squeezing her sides out of excitement.

Nothing else is said as the smug grin you’ve grown to love forms on her lips, her hands reach for your hands once again as you both start to head inside. Even if you both didn’t know where tonight was going to go, you know that you wanted to be by her side the whole way through. Cruella, too, hoped for this, knowing that she’ll get to love every single bit of you.

#nats novels #cruella x reader #cruella de vil #cruella #cruella 2021 #cruella de vil x reader #cruella deville #estella x reader #cruella disney #emma stone #emmastone #emma stone x reader

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sherifftillman · 1 year

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busy streets and busy lives • ralph penbury x reader

A strange day at work gets even stranger when you meet a man who claims he's from 1926. With no certainty as to when he can get back, you decide to take him in until that time arrives.

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Tags: Timewasters (series), modern!au, slow burn, mutual pining, idiots in love™, fluff, some angst, swearing and mentions of adult themes throughout, eventual adult content, alcohol content, penbury is a fanon surname

Word count: 9.2k

A/N: Thanks for being patient! I know this one took longer than the other two, but yeah. Back pain is no joke, and also, as you can see, this became somewhat of a monolith lol. This whole fic is my most favourite thing to write. I hope you enjoy this chapter! <3

Also, apologies for the horrific photoshop job I did trying to recreate a certain social media layout, lol.

The first few weeks of living with Ralph are certainly… An experience. You’re able to teach him how to cook basic freezer meals, how to use a hob and the importance of never taking your attention away from food when you’re preparing it. He’s got his favourite TV shows, especially now that you’ve trusted him with access to your streaming services, too - though you did have to make him a separate profile on your account when your current obsession had been drowned out in your Continue Watching queue by Ralph watching half an hour of whatever was showing up first, giving up and moving onto the next thing. He’s got a rapport as “that eccentric young man who lives in flat 912”, who befriends all the local outdoor cats and bows to everyone he makes eye contact with. Plus, with all the extra attention Ralph gives them while you’re not there, your plants have been thriving more than ever.

Another morning of waking up on the sofa. You reach blindly for the pain relief and water bottle you now keep close to you and chug them down before peeling yourself away. At least today is a day off. Except it isn’t really, as you’re reminded when you hear the shower going. You’re still a full-time Ralph-sitter. You decide to treat the pair of you to a full breakfast, something that your new housemate had considered “grotesque” as “grease is not a food group”, but you’d acclimated him to it eventually. As long as you cut him some bread soldiers to dip into the yolks of his eggs. That’s his favourite part.

You scroll through Spotify on your phone to see what playlist you’ll ask your Echo to play for you. It recommends, based on your recent listening (by which it obviously means the battle your algorithm faces trying to find common ground between your music taste and Ralph’s), an electro-swing playlist. Excited, you ask Alexa to play the playlist as it’s titled, and start bouncing along to it as you get everything out to start cooking.

Ralph emerges, hair still wet, with a smile on his face. “Good morning!” You understand and appreciate his efforts to try and blend in a little more aesthetically, but arguably the worst thing your friends have convinced Ralph is that he looks better with a bit of facial hair. Which, of course, is true, but that’s what makes it so terrible for you. “What is this?!”

You shrug, “Dunno, it said electro-swing and I figured that sounds like the perfect mix of both of us. You like it?”

Ralph nods, “I mean, it’s certainly not the classics, but I could definitely get used to this!” He starts moving his feet in very deliberate ways, and you smirk at him.

“Did you ever learn how to swing dance, by any chance?”

“Guilty!” he lilts, rolling his eyes up. No matter how much he may try to look like a 21st century man, he’s still unmistakably Ralph. “Yes, Mother got Victoria and I enrolled in a school to get us out of the house. Father wanted me to join some new-fangled group, the Scouts?” You’d think you’d be used to all the culture shocks by now, but hearing that Ralph could have been one of the first ever Scouts still knocks the wind out of you a little. Ralph, completely unaware, continues rambling, “Yes, but it was all… Swimming and climbing and… Outdoor survival,” he shudders. “So, Mother sent me away with Victoria to her dance classes.”

“Were you any good? Or did you enjoy it, at least?” you ask.

Ralph smiles as his head bobs with excitement, “I was rather exemplary, yes! Ms Lillian often paired Victoria and I together, knowing we could practise at home as well, though when we got to a… Certain age, Victoria decided she would rather have other male partners.” You can tell from the sadness in Ralph’s tone what he’s about to say next. “And, well, she was on such good terms with the other girls in the group that… Well, none of them wanted to be paired with little brother Ralph, so the teacher was my partner. ‘Little brother’, I ask you, only by twelve minutes!” he starts to mutter under his breath.

An urge swells within you to find Homeless Pete, insist he find a way to fix that time machine up as soon as possible, and travel back to that time just to shove every one of those rich little brats. Instead, you focus that energy on comforting Ralph, reaching your arms around his shoulders in a quick hug. “I’m sorry, mate. Though, I don’t suppose you remember those moves you learned?”

His eyes light up. “I certainly do! Did you want to learn how to? The teacher did say I was quite the natural, I could teach you if you wanted!”

You grin, “I’d love nothing more.”

You spend the best part of an hour learning how to do things like the Charleston Step, the bow tie and the one that Ralph calls one turns, two turns, which you can tell is his favourite based on the smile he gets when it’s his turn to get twirled around.

Eventually, you heave with exhaustion. “Well, that’s worked up the old appetite, though I dunno how I’m gonna cook when I can barely feel my legs!”

Ralph giggles, “Oh, please, that was nothing! Ms Lillian would have you in tatters.” You give him a death stare and he stops laughing immediately. “Would you like me to get us something from the baker’s? I could get you some of those doughed nuts that you enjoy.”

“For the last time, Ralph, doughnuts don’t actually contain nuts and you can have some yourself, too!” you groan as you start replacing everything you’d taken out of the fridge.

Ralph tuts, shaking his head. “I have no interest in your nuts, thank you.” That’s one to send to Scott and Connor later, you think to yourself as you open up your phone and add to the note “Ralph Quotes”. “Perhaps the nice old lady who calls me chap will be there,” he muses with a small smile, “I like her.”

“Hop to it, then, old sport,” you say in a mock-posh voice, earning you a glare from Ralph, which only makes you laugh as you make your own way to the shower.

When you’re out and dressed for the day - in the clothes Ralph had worn on his first night with you, but only because they’re your go-to comfort clothes anyway and you don’t exactly plan on leaving the flat - you go through your usual routine of checking the news app for the headlines, and then the trending topics on Twitter, just to see if there’s anything your friends will be talking about.

You giggle at the fact that the name Ralph is trending, screenshotting it to send to the group chat later. Out of curiosity as to which Ralph the internet is obsessing over today, you tap it and scroll through. It’s mostly people in fandoms, making threads called ‘[series] as ralph tweets’. The “ralph tweets” in question seem to be of someone tweeting as though they think Twitter works in the same way as Google.

Your stomach drops as you realise some of them look a little too familiar. Almost as though you know a Ralph who’d be this far out of touch with the modern world. Almost as though you could track the very conversations that would lead to some of these to that particular Ralph.

You click through to the profile @RalphOnTwitter and scroll all the way down to see exactly when he must have gotten an account:

You send a single message in the group chat: GROUP MEETING, MY FLAT, ASAP. ALL MUST ATTEND.

Your friends all arrive relatively quickly after that. You simply herd them all onto the sofa one by one until the last of them has arrived, but just as you’re about to lay into them, the man of the hour arrives, having fumbled with the lock for a good minute with his arms full of baked goods.

“Ah, good morning, all! It’s a good job you’re all here, it was that young woman serving today and she always gives me extra food even though I don’t ask for it or pay for it, I don’t know why -”

“It’s ‘cause she fancies you, mate,” Connor grins, causing Ralph’s ears to turn a vibrant shade of red.

“Can we please discuss Ralph’s love life another time?!” you interrupt. “I need to know which of you is responsible for giving him access to a Twitter account.”

You know Anna’s in the clear, you’d been helping her in the kitchen, but the other three look at each other shiftily. “Well, it was sort of all of us? We just thought it might be fun to teach him,” Grace explains. “It’s not often you meet someone who’s never heard of social media.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, squeezing your eyes shut. “Ralph,” you call out, eyes still closed, “what do you do when you need to know the answer to something?”

“I do what you taught me when you first gave me my phone,” Ralph answers, perplexed. “I tap the very last square, I type in my question and I wait for an answer. A lot of them are just people being rude, but eventually someone will be helpful.”

“Sounds about right,” you groan, rubbing your face.

“Wait, you mean, you still do that even after we put - you didn’t think to just move one to the -” Scott’s eyes widen. “Oh, god.”

“Why would it move?!” Ralph asks, taking a bite out of his favourite pastry and chewing anxiously.

Anna starts giggling as she scrolls through his account, “Aww, but it’s so funny! And it’s not hurting anyone, what’s the damage in it?”

The fact he’s not supposed to be alive and yet he’s suddenly very much perceived, maybe? The fact he could accidentally tweet something that would give him away? The fact he could tweet something vastly inappropriate at any moment?

“Yeah, you could really capitalise on him while he’s here,” Connor smirks. “Get him on Instagram, too, get those brand deals coming.”

“Yeah! Ralph On Twitter’s face reveal, make it a whole thing,” Grace grins.

You sigh. “I dunno. It feels like a really bad idea.” You look at Ralph, who looks blankly back at you. “But… Maybe we could make something of you. As long as I’m your PR manager, obviously, and you don’t go talking directly to anyone.”

“I don’t think I know how,” Ralph shakes his head, “I thought it was the searching thing that you’d told me about.”

“Good. Never learn,” you point at him, “and give me your phone.” Your friends all cheer as they crowd around you, watching you download Instagram onto his phone, as well. You give him the handle @ralphoninsta “to keep the brand alive,” you explain as you set up his profile.

“Now we need a good first photo,” Scott holds his fingers and thumbs up in a rectangle shape to frame Ralph in his own field of vision. “Let’s get him into some good lighting.”

Sitting him in the best-lit corner of the flat, Scott insists on playing photographer, telling Ralph to sit and smile. However, Ralph does not seem to do well in front of the camera. He sits bolt upright, every part of him looking stiff and uncomfortable, and his smile isn’t right. It’s far too forced, it shows all his teeth and yet somehow the smile itself stretches beyond them. “Maybe we should take him out and about, get some candid shots of him,” Anna suggests.

You groan, having just started on your second doughnut. “Fine! I’ll leave the house today, but I won’t be pleased about it!” You shake your half-eaten breakfast at your friends, who laugh. “And you guys better come eat these, too, Ralph wasn’t kidding about these freebies.” You hold out another doughnut and wave it in Ralph’s direction, “Sure I can’t tempt you with one?”

He leaps onto his feet and backs away from you, “How many times must I ask you to keep your doughed nuts out of my face, please!” As expected, Scott and Connor crease up in laughter.

“You’ll love ‘em when you try ‘em, Ralphie,” you grin, taking another bite of your own, but Ralph isn’t as amused by it all.

Once you’re all adequately full, you begrudgingly throw on a hoodie and go out with everyone else, trying to find the right lighting, the right backdrop. Even with everything, Ralph just doesn’t seem to pose very well. His posture becomes so much more awkward and his facial expressions just aren’t… Ralph.

When he starts to express his apathy for the whole thing, you think of one more thing that might help. Standing him in front of a brick wall, you position Scott and set his phone camera to video, earning you an, “Ahh, good shout.”

Scott starts recording as Ralph stands in place, looking over at all of you. “So, what is it I’m supposed to do, now? Do I have to pose again? How?”

You shrug, “I dunno, just… Be Ralph. Stand however you want. Look however you want. Just, keep it moving around, yeah?”

He may still look a little awkward but you’re able to get him to do plenty, at least. Getting him comfortable is easy enough, you start getting him talking about his new favourite TV programmes and he very vaguely - and mostly not entirely correctly - describes the plots of them, with all the excited sincerity of a lifelong fan. Grace also asks him about his favourite local cats he’s befriended whenever he’s been out and about, which he lists happily and extensively.

When Scott feels as though he’s got some good angles, he stops recording and you all crowd around him to review the footage together. While you all have different opinions on which angles are best, you can all agree on one thing - Ralph certainly photographs far, far better candidly. You all eventually settle on pausing and screenshotting at two specific moments, though Ralph is still perplexed. “But I’m not posed for either of those pictures, doesn’t that make them bad? I mean, I’m not even looking in that second one!” He points to a shot where he’s looking down, itching his jaw.

“No, trust me, it’s fine, they’re great,” you insist, maybe a little too quickly. Nobody seems to have noticed, though. Thankfully.

“And in this one, the sun is in my eyes! I’m all squinty!” He frowns, swiping to the previous shot.

“That’s called a smoulder, babes, everyone loves a smoulder.” You watch in amusement as Ralph’s ears turn pink at Grace’s words. No matter how many times you’ve told him that Grace calls everyone by that name, it still gets Ralph all nervous to be referred to by it himself. “You’re a natural, when you’re not actually trying.”

“Is that a good thing?” Ralph asks, his eyes darting around the group to gauge everyone’s reactions.

Anna nods, “It shows promise, right, Scott? Scott’s big into his photography shit, he’s got a proper camera and everything, don’t you?”

Scott nods. “If you ever wanted to try and get more comfortable with it, we could definitely shoot together sometime.”

Ralph shuffles over to you to whisper in your ear, “What do guns have to do with -”

You interrupt him to quietly explain, “You shoot photos on a camera.”

“Ah. Thank you.” Addressing Scott, he smiles and claps, bouncing on the balls of his feet, “If I am still around, I should rather enjoy that!”

“Fuck, I forgot we’ve only got you on borrowed time,” Anna complains, before gasping and clapping her hands, addressing you. “This is your weekend off, right?!” You nod, and she squeals, holding her face in her hands. “So, we have to show Ralph what a good night out is, right?!”

Excited reactions from the entire group, except one, obviously, but the others seem too keen on planning tonight now to respond to any of his reactions. “So, do we just take him out, or out-out?” Connor asks.

You look over at Ralph’s face, trying not to laugh too loudly at him looking as though he’s been asked to solve quantum equations in his head. “You trying to figure out the difference there, mate?” you ask, and he nods. “Right, so going out usually means just to the local pub, pretty casual attire, you say you’re only going for a couple of beers but then it’s approaching midnight, the poor sod behind the bar is calling last orders and you’re five deep, trying to gather everyone for the walk home where you drop them all off one by one. Going out-out is dressing up, it’s going into the city itself, it’s going to bars and nightclubs and getting super overpriced cocktails until it’s 3am and you’re sat outside a McDonald’s waiting for a taxi home with whichever stragglers you’ve managed to hold onto by the end of the night.”

“Dressing up, you say?!” Ralph lights up at the idea, but you put a hand on his arm.

“Not in the suit and tie way, I’m afraid.” You frown, “I don’t actually know if we’ve got any out-out clothes for you at home, you know. I haven’t had a chance to get you to any shops where you can try nice clothes on yourself.”

With a collective gasp, Grace and Anna each loop an arm around each of Ralph’s, with Scott joining in their chorus of, “Shopping trip?!”

You groan, “Can I at least go back and get changed if you’re gonna keep making me leave the house?”

“I mean, you don’t have to come with us, if you want a break,” Anna suggests. “You trust us with Ralph, right?”

“So what, just the four of you will be going, then?” Connor asks, to the others’ groans. “Oh, come off it, what use would I be?!”

“Connor,” Anna starts. “How often are we ever likely to ask you for your opinion as a straight man again? You need to come with, for your people.”

Connor sighs in resignation, though he can’t fight his own smile. “Alright, fine, but you lot are buying all the coffees I’m gonna need to get through this.”

You slip Ralph your bank card, mutter to him that the others will teach him how to use it, and salute the others as they all make their way to the high street before turning on your heel and heading back to the sanctuary of an empty flat.

Straight away, it feels too empty. Too quiet. Sure, you’ve trusted Ralph to just pop across the road and back, but you’ve got way more alone time now. You ask your Echo to play your favourite playlist as you make a start on the chores you normally can’t do with Ralph around.

Though you expect that to take up until they return, you’re done before the hour is up. You let out a long exhale, tutting through it as you look around your little living space and wonder what on earth to do with yourself. You start watching the next episode of the show you’d been watching, but even that didn’t feel right without the constant interjections, feeling as though you have to explain who characters are, what plots have already happened and why certain scenes are especially important.

You text the group chat a few times, but only Connor ever responds, and as is on brand for him, it’s always a sarcastic comment about how Ralph is obviously going to show up in the most garish outfits known to man. You take comfort in Connor being the one to make those jokes, at least, as if anyone else were to, you might be more inclined to worry that Ralph’s own tastes might just be a little too eclectic for the South London nightlife. At least Connor will be there to talk him down into dressing somewhat appropriately.

You also ask Scott to send you the photos for Ralph’s Instagram profile, telling him you’re happy to edit them to pass the time before eventually getting them onto Ralph’s phone to upload them. He sends you the screenshots, along with the video itself. One little watch, you tell yourself. Then to editing.

An indeterminable amount of time later, you’re replaying a part where you’re constantly correcting Ralph on the actual plot of Gilmore Girls versus what he seems to have retained that it’s about, where you’ve reached the point of uncontrollable laughter and he’s laughing at your laughter. His smile is so pure when he’s genuinely happy, and yet it’s so rare to see it that way. Even without his manufactured pose, when he’s smiling amongst you and your friends it still feels stilted. You often wonder whether he misses the familiarity of home, whether you’re doing a good enough job at helping Ralph to fit in. But seeing that look on his face, it fills you with an overwhelming sense of relief. It’s the first time you’ve been able to really notice him looking comfortable. You take a screenshot of that moment, but not necessarily to add to Ralph’s profile. Maybe this one stays as a memento of Ralph’s time here, just for you.

When you get the text in the group chat letting you know that a) they’re finished, and b) everyone’s getting ready at Grace’s since her housemates are all out for the evening, you hurriedly edit those two photos Scott sent, empty your wardrobe of all your “out-out” clothes into a duffel bag, throw in whatever toiletries and cosmetics you can find and make your way over there.

Scott, Anna and Ralph are nowhere to be found, at first, but Grace assures you that they’re simply helping him “look the part”. You’re more worried about checking in with Ralph, seeing if he’s overwhelmed at all, and most importantly, making sure he hasn’t blown his cover.

Grace is more than happy to help you pick out your outfit for the night, while Connor’s input remains a constant and totally helpful series of grunts without even looking up from his phone. Grace helps you get your face and hair ready, too, though not without scolding Connor for not participating either way, despite his constant rebuttals that he is taking care of “the most important thing”. You quickly shoot him a text thanking him for helping to take Ralph off your hands for an afternoon, and reassuring him you’ll buy him a drink to show your appreciation. The absolute wordsmith that he is, Connor sends a thumbs-up emoji in response.

There’s a ring at the doorbell, which even Grace is puzzled at. That fills you with a sense of concern, too - if Grace isn’t expecting someone at her door, who could it be? Connor seems pretty confident at going to open it, though, and you see why when he eventually shows up with the pizzas that he clearly ordered. “You didn’t have to be so cryptic about it!” You shake your head at him as you make sure everyone has drinks made up as well.

Scott’s head pokes out of a door to ask, “Everything okay? Who was at the door?” You and Connor both point to the food and Scott grins, “Ah, nice! Right on time! Okay, folks, are you ready to meet The New Ralph?”

The three of you clap and cheer as Scott and Anna make a big show of revealing Ralph, and thankfully you weren’t holding any of the glasses you were making drinks in, or you’d have surely dropped them. Wearing a dark fitted polo, very well-fitting jeans and some crisp new Adidas trainers, Ralph stands between your friends, looking around at the three of you. When he catches your eye, he only makes very fleeting eye contact before looking your own outfit up and down and then hastily looking back at the others. He rubs at the tops of his ears - you can’t quite see from this distance, but you wonder if he’s blushing, and whether he’s doing it over everyone’s reaction, or just yours.

You set everyone’s drinks up around the living room, deliberately seating you and Ralph together. “I wasn’t sure what kind of fancy-schmancy drinks you’re used to, and none of us exactly have champagne on tap, but I thought you might like a martini?” You say to him as he takes his seat on the sofa next to you.

Ralph’s eyes light up. “I do rather enjoy a martini!”

“That’s my guy!” Connor cheers from his corner, raising a slice of pizza in a toast of sorts. Ralph tentatively takes a slice and does the same, but you hurriedly follow it up by grabbing a plate and holding it beneath Ralph’s slice for him.

“Don’t want to ruin your nice outfit before you’ve even been seen out in it, do you?” You fuss, and Ralph nods, taking the plate from you and holding it directly under his chin as he eats, which makes you laugh. He could literally look like anyone in the world, but little mannerisms like that will always tell you that that’s your Ralph.

When he’s had enough to eat, you take the plate from him to take it out to the kitchen, though Grace is quick to whip it out of your hands, too. That’s when you notice the plate seems to have moved something underneath the collar of Ralph’s shirt. You move it aside slightly and, with all the might of keeping any kind of flustering behaviour at bay, you ask, “Is that a neck chain you’re wearing?” Is this what manifesting is?

“Yes! Do you like it?” Ralph scoops it out into view with his finger. “Just a plain one, but Anna said it really brought the whole outfit together, didn’t you?” He asks her excitedly, and she nods back.

“She’s got a good eye, that one,” you grin. “You look so good, Ralph.”

“As do you,” he mutters, gesturing quickly to your outfit. “I see what you mean about dressing to the nines, now. It’s nice to see this side of you, too. All of you, really,” he stammers, looking around.

“Right, last minute hair and make-up touches and then I want photos of all of us!” Grace announces.

Ralph’s face falls as he asks you quietly, “Would you like to teach me how to take them, since I’m not good at being in them?”

“Don’t be silly,” you nudge him. “We’ll get some good ones of you tonight, trust me. And if you wanna see a bad photo, wait until you see the atrocities this lot take by the end of the night.”

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. We’ll prepare a slideshow of your finest moments for him, shall we?” Scott retorts, to both yours and Ralph’s laughter.

“Maybe we should save that for a special occasion. A birthday, perhaps?” Ralph asks with amusement.

“Yes, Ralph!” Connor and Scott cheer in unison, both slapping his shoulders excitedly as you gasp in mock offence.

“The betrayal!” You can’t actually be mad at Ralph, though, not with how good he looks when he’s this happy. It’s even more captivating in person.

You shake your head as you go to make sure you’re all freshened up after your meal. You can’t keep thinking these things when you’re sober, or else who knows how that’ll manifest when you’re less so.

Your friends all love learning how to get Ralph distracted enough that he doesn’t even realise half the time that his photo is being taken. Scott, being the photography setup genius that he is, even gets his phone out, sets it on a timer, and manages to get Ralph laughing while looking at the camera, in the middle of the group, all while successfully running into the shot himself. Everyone’s in love with that photo, even Ralph, and when Scott sends it in the group chat, you promise him you’ll print one for the flat, and an extra one just for his room.

“What about the other ones that everyone else took?” Ralph asks. “Could I get those ones on my phone, too?”

“I’ll do that tomorrow. Ooh, speaking of! Before we go! Gimme, gimme,” you make a grabby hand at Ralph, who eventually takes the hint that you want his phone as he hands it to you. You send over the two edited shots - and that’s all - and, on his phone, successfully upload them:

“No caption?” Anna asks, looking over your shoulder.

“Well, it’d look a bit dodge if he’s tweeting to ask his phone to stop changing his words for him, but then he’s a total whiz at Instagram, wouldn’t it?” You explain, to everyone’s agreement.

Finally, you’re all piled into an Uber and on your way to your favourite bar. It’s in the car, cramped between you and the door, that Ralph realises something in a panic. Frantically tapping your arm, he whispers, “Won’t they ask me to prove I’m of age to drink there?”

You shake your head. “Don’t sweat it. The staff know us like the backs of their hands, they’ll trust us that we’re not bringing in some teenager. Besides, you look far less baby-faced now,” you wrestle your arm out enough to ruffle the beard he’s starting to grow with your fingertips. “So we’ll be fine. Promise.”

Ralph, too, wrangles a hand out to hold his little finger towards you. “Promise?”

With a small laugh, you link your own with his. “Yes, but less of that around the people we have to convince that you’re not a kid, okay?” Ralph nods with a very serious expression, and you copy him before settling back into conversation with your friends.

It takes a few bats of the group’s eyelids and some convincing c’mon, mates but the bouncer soon lets Ralph in with you all, to which he enthusiastically thanks them over and over again. You hurriedly rush him in ahead of you before he arouses too much suspicion.

Connor makes a point of letting Ralph know where the toilets are, and Ralph immediately disappears off into that direction. You ask the boys if one of them should make sure he’s okay getting there, but everyone scolds you for fussing over him too much and moves you along with the rest of them to order everyone’s drinks. You want to hold onto Ralph’s for him but, as Scott reminds you, it’s safer for him to, so that you can look after your own. Just in case.

Soon enough, as with every night out, the group starts to scatter. Scott is happily chatting between Connor and a girl you don’t recognise, most likely playing wingman. You can spot Anna and Grace in amidst a small group of people whose heads are turned away from you. Still no sign of Ralph for a while. Ringing his phone does nothing, but the music is quite loud, he might not be able to hear. The bar is small enough, you tell yourself. He’ll find you eventually.

As you’re craning your head around the bar one more time, you don’t realise anyone is in your immediate vicinity until you almost trip over someone behind you. They catch you with a, “Whoa, easy there! How many have you had?!”

“Barely any, that’s the scary thing!” You laugh.

The man smiles at you. “Sounds like I ought to buy you one then, eh?”

You shrug, “Sure, what’s a free drink?” You gesture that you’ll walk up to the bar with him and order your drink. He tries to make small conversation, and you start to get into it a little, until he starts trying to flirt. He’s not exactly your type, anyway, and his total lack of game really doesn’t help matters. You try and get away with a simple thank you, a promise that you’ll find him later to buy him one back but you really must get back to your friends.

“Ah, what’s the rush? Surely it’s easier for them to come and find you if we stay here, right?” He asks. You look around desperately, trying with all your might to use some of that manifesting power you seemed to have earlier to will one of the boys back, both to rescue you and salvage Ralph.

~~~

Ralph was having quite the experience. Having heard the other boys talk of the bathroom, he assumed that was a prompt for everyone to go, but only once he could see the door to it did Ralph turn around and realise he was completely on his own. Suddenly, the atmosphere changes. What seemed dimly lit now appears almost pitch black. There are lights of all colours shining everywhere. Music that doesn’t quite sound like music thumps in the background. Twenty conversations happening around him turn into white noise, until someone approaches him. A total stranger. Two of them, actually.

“Alright, mate? Do me a favour?” One asks, despite Ralph’s expression clearly being one that should let anyone know that he is in no position to be giving out any favours. They continue anyway, “Look, I have to draw something, and you have to guess what it is, okay?” Ralph, still bewildered, does not respond in the slightest, but before he knows it, the other person has turned around so that their back can be used as a surface. The original asker now splays a napkin of sorts against their friend’s back as they try and draw something.

Ralph tries his absolute hardest, but as no amount of squinting and focusing can help him, he tells them, “Oh bother, I’m terribly sorry, chaps, I’m honestly trying but I’m really coming up trumps, I do apologise.”

They give him looks of confusion and concern. “Are you on something?”

“Why does everybody assume that of me, just because I’m ever so slightly more well spoken than the average resident here?!” Ralph complains with a frown. “Can this not just be how I talk?”

“Oh my days, you’re a right laugh,” the other grins. “Here, come and do a shot with us, you have to!”

“I- Do I?” Ralph asks, and they nod. “Well, I really should get back to my friends -”

“Oh, c’mon, one shot and we��ll help you find them. Deal?” They ask.

“Well… Alright,” Ralph sighs in defeat. If he can’t find you, he can at least find a constant to anchor onto in the meantime.

“Oi, lads!” The two call out as they approach the table they’re leading Ralph to. “Time out on that game for a minute, we’re doing shots with this legend!” They both look at Ralph expectantly, waiting for him to introduce himself.

“Oh! Yes! Hello, everyone. My name is Ralph. Fabulous to meet you all,” he smiles as he looks around the table.

“Isn’t he sick?!” The artist of the pair grins at his friends.

“Quite the picture of health, actually,” Ralph retorts with a side glance.

“Oh, isn’t he a cutie,” a girl coos from the table. The other of the pair starts to clench his jaw.

“Oi, come off it,” another comforts from around the table. “Any bloke that uses the word fabulous isn’t exactly stealing your girlfriend, is he.”

Ralph’s not even sure how to answer to that, but he isn’t given much time to, either, before being whisked away to the bar with this new group. They hand him a tiny glass filled with clear liquid. Ralph wonders if a shot is perhaps some sort of palate cleanser, a mouthful of water between drinks.

The fiery sensation that travels down his throat as he drinks teaches him that it certainly is not. But once the unpleasantness clears, the strange comfort of alcohol starts to fill Ralph with warmth. It’s certainly happening a lot faster than he’s used to, but then these drinks are far stronger than Ralph’s usual tastes.

Briefly forgetting his own arrangement, he returns from the bar with his new acquaintances - and another martini in hand - and sits back at the table with them as they continue playing their game. It’s played on one of their phones. Someone taps through prompts and reads them aloud. Sometimes it’s challenging a player to do something themselves, sometimes it’s challenging them to approach a stranger, as they had done with Ralph. Sometimes it’s asking them completely arbitrary questions to vote upon amongst the group. They all certainly seem to be having a great time playing, anyway.

Once they declare a round over, they ask Ralph if he wants to join in the next one. “Oh, I’m rather… Old-fashioned, I don’t think I’d be a good fit for this, but I’m sure my friends would love it! Shall I go and find them?”

“More the merrier,” one shrugs.

Ralph excitedly jumps up and starts patrolling the bar to find a familiar face amongst the crowd. He’s yet to see any at all, until one makes his heart drop. He sees you, in the arms of another man. Ralph had really been priding himself on repressing his feelings around you. He wasn’t going to repeat what happened with Lauren. He wasn’t going to scare you off too soon. He was going to keep it to himself. He had tried so hard. And yet, this sight is truly unbearable.

Biting at his quivering lower lip, he storms back into the direction of the bathrooms and keeps going, shoving the first door he finds open as he tries not to cry.

His sorrow is quickly replaced with horror as he finds several women all standing in various places around the room. Some just standing and chatting, some calling to friends in the stalls, some checking themselves in the mirror. After the scene finally sets in for Ralph, he lets out an ultimately high-pitched shriek, swivels around and immediately starts scolding himself. “Oh, bother and blast! Please, forgive me, girls, oh, what an absolute cad I am, I’ve truly disgraced myself, just when it couldn’t get any worse!” His voice gets shakier with every word, and he flinches when a hand appears on his shoulder.

“Sorry!” One of the girls apologises hurriedly. “I just wanted to let you know it’s okay. Are you alright?”

“Please do not ask me if I have taken any sort of drug just because I am well-spoken!” Ralph half-cries, and the hand squeezes him comfortingly.

“We won’t, promise. Did you need a wee, or just a wind down?”

“I’m not sure, I just… Ran. I’m terribly sorry,” Ralph sighs.

“It’s fine,” the voice reassures. “Wanna turn around and talk to us? I promise, there’s no better therapy than a night in the girls’ loos. Right?” A chorus of agreement fills the room.

Ralph slowly turns around to see an awful lot of smiling faces. He sniffs harshly and nods, “Good evening.”

“Hi!” The one who had approached him smiles. “I’m Lauren!”

Of all the names! “L-Lauren?” Ralph practically squeaks out as he feels himself start to well up, and her own face falls in some kind of realisation as she shakes her head.

“Or Loz! Just call me Loz! All my friends do! Forget the other name entirely. Sound good?”

Ralph nods. “I’m Ralph. A pleasure to meet you, despite it being under my most horrific actions.”

The other girls introduce themselves, as well. “So, Ralph, this, uh… Girl With The Forbidden Name, is she why you’re all upset?”

“Is she?” One pipes up from the very back. “Because you point her out and I’ll sort her out, no holds barred.”

“See, this is what I tell you, you get like two vodka red bulls down you and you’re ready to throw hands at any inconvenience,” her friend groans next to her. Ralph very quickly taps the square with the bird on it and types a message out to ask the internet “why do people throw hands at each other”, quickly followed by “what sort of hands do people throw”. He decides he’ll check people’s answers later, so as not to appear rude.

“Look at him, though!” The more hot-headed one gestures to Ralph as he wipes away the tears that had been threatening to fall. “Look at those eyes! Like melted chocolate, they are. What kinda sadist would possibly make that happen?!”

“Oh, it’s nothing, it’s all futile,” Ralph shakes his head, but his new friend Loz points at him.

“Oi. Nothing’s futile here. This is a safe space. Let it out.”

Ralph starts to explain that he had fallen for a Lauren, dove in headfirst, had his heart broken and vowed not to let it happen again, but that seeing the housemate he cared so deeply for in the arms of another just brought all of that sadness back up again. The girls are all very sympathetic, and very good at knowing exactly what to say to make Ralph feel better. The rather boisterous one keeps trying to speak negatively of you, but Ralph won’t have any of that. You’re your own person, and it’s up to Ralph to get over his own feelings. The girls commend him on his emotional maturity. Apparently not a lot of men have that.

They ask if he wants to talk it through with you, but he shakes his head, telling them that he isn’t certain how long it is before he can go home again, and so he doesn’t want to commit to anything or risk either staying with you with such an emotionally charged elephant in the room at all times, or being turfed out indefinitely.

"That's quite the predicament you've got yourself in, Ralphie, babes," Loz hugs him arm, and he allows himself the comfort of leaning against her.

Suddenly, a stall door swings open violently, and a whole new girl appears, holding her phone up to her face. Before anyone else can ask if she's okay, she gasps loudly, "I bloody knew it!"

Everyone looks at her quizzically, including Ralph, and she continues. "Well, I thought, guy called Ralph who sounds really old-fashioned, I wonder if… And then some of the things he's said kind of sounded like those tweets, have any of you seen that Ralph On Twitter guy?"

A few more gasps of realisation dot about the room. Ralph's ears turn pink as he recognises the word Twitter from the conversation you’d had with the other four this morning. Loz frowns, "Are you sure it's -"

"Is this your insta?" She turns her phone around to show Ralph her screen. It says Instagram on the top, so Ralph takes out his phone and presses the square that also says that, showing it around to see if that's right. Excitedly, all the girls crowd around to make sure they get Ralph's handle right so they can follow him.

One girl - Ralph's already lost track of them, honestly - announces, "So what I'm hearing is, girls' room photoshoot with Ralph from Twitter?!"

Ralph laughs nervously, "Oh goodness, I'm flattered, but those are all taken candidly, would you believe! I am certainly no poser, I have been told this enough times today already."

"Bollocks to that!" The loud one shouts. "We'll teach you how, won't we, girls?"

Before Ralph knows it, he's squatting amongst all his new friends who are trying to teach him how to do the smoulder look he was doing in his photo on purpose when the main door opens to reveal you standing there, looking absolutely bewildered. "Oh my god, Ralph! You're okay! Thank fuck for that!"

As you frantically update the group chat that you’ve found Ralph safe and well, Loz reaches for his hand to squeeze it. The loud girl starts to tense up behind him but Loz waves her down from behind his back. “Yeah, he’s just been having some drunk girl therapy,” she explains calmly.

“God, I could do with some of that right now,” you groan. “Honestly, you trip and fall onto a guy one time and he thinks you’re soulmates, it’s horrendous!”

Ralph’s face lights up all of a sudden. “You’d… You’d fallen on him?” Concern falls back onto his expression. “Are you okay?”

“Oh, physically, I’m fine, but I don’t know how I’m going to mentally recover from listening to one man talk about himself so much,” you groan into your hands as you hold your face. “I forgot why I stopped dating in London.” You notice that one of the girls puts her arm down after having held her phone up at a particular angle. “Oh my god, wait, you guys were taking photos together?” A few of them nod. “Would you like me to take them for you? Rather than one of you trying to fit everyone in at arm’s length.”

“Oh my god, would you?” one of them sighs with relief.

You nod, gesturing to Ralph to hand you his phone again.

Maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s the presence of so many other people in the photo with him, but Ralph blends in so much more naturally in the photos you take now, even when you suggest different poses and expressions. One of them - Ralph quickly introduces her as Loz, and no other name - asks around for phone numbers of the girls that, you assume, had all just met and bonded over whatever Ralph was in here for. You take over the role of adding everyone’s numbers into Ralph’s phone, and see that Loz adds him to a group chat that she names “Ralphie’s Angels”. You laugh at the name, and send all the photos you’ve taken into the group chat.

“Right, I can feel myself sobering up now, and we can’t have that,” one of them calls out, making the rest of you laugh. “Shall we all go and face the music?”

You pull a face, “Ugh, that means I have to go back and face… Him.”

“Nah, you stick with us, hun,” the one who seemed hostile with you at first suddenly seems to be fighting your corner now. “He even looks in your direction when I’m around, I’ll make him wish he didn’t.” You give her a comforted smile in response and the whole horde starts making its way out of the bathroom.

Your friends also catch up with you at the bar, grateful to see Ralph’s face again, too. Grace is hanging off some new guy’s arm, Anna is half-present in the whole conversation but also half-texting somebody, and Scott is catching up with Ralph. You spot that Connor isn’t talking to anyone and head over to him, “What are you drinking?” you ask loudly over all the music. “I still owe you, remember!”

Connor shakes his head, “Nah, don’t sweat it. Ralph’s a good’un, it was no bother.” Speak of the devil, Ralph excitedly hands you and Connor drinks that one of his new friends insists on buying for everyone, then grabs his own glass from Scott who’s followed him to clink against yours and Connor’s before hurriedly rejoining his group. You and your friends laugh in unison before Connor downs his martini, gives you a quick hug and heads home for the night. Grace and her new friend are the next to leave - you never did catch his name, and you’re not sure you’ll have a reason to remember it anyway.

You dismiss Anna and Scott, telling them that Ralph will probably be a while yet, and that they don’t have to wait up for him just because you do. At first they insist on staying with you, but eventually tiredness consumes them both and they bid you goodnight.

As though preying from afar - because that’s most likely what he was doing - your admirer from earlier appears as soon as your friends are out of the door. “Well, well, we meet again.”

Your eyes narrow as you groan out a breath. “Yeah, hi -”

“I can’t believe your friends would leave you alone like that,” he shakes his head.

“Oh, they haven’t, I’m still waiting on -” Your knight in 21st century armour, Ralph, walks over to the pair of you. “Ah, there he is! Are we going home now?”

“Would you like to?” Ralph asks, concern in his eyes, and you nod with fervour. “Then yes!”

The other man pulls a face. “Wait, sorry, you’re going home with - who the fuck is this?!” He gestures at Ralph, a nasty expression on his face.

Thankfully, Ralph’s cavalry come to your defence, led by none other than an incredibly loud, “Oi, dickhead! Who the fuck are you?! Fucking look at my friend like that again, see what happens, yeah?” Despite being perhaps half a foot shorter, Ralph’s most fiery friend easily squares up against him.

You tap her shoulder in thanks, take Ralph’s hand and guide him out of the bar. The cool air outside hits your face, but the alcohol in your system acts as a blanket around the rest of you. “You good?” You ask Ralph, and he nods. “Good. I’ll call for an Uber.”

Ralph frowns, “But aren’t those taxis, parked up over there?”

“Well remembered! Yeah, but a drunk girl once told me that those charge extra for all the time they’ve spent sitting there, and I’ve never felt bougie enough to spend the money to find out if it is true, so I like to play it safe.” You book an Uber that says it’s four minutes away and sit on the edge of the path. Ralph joins you. “Sorry we lost you, earlier, by the way. I did keep trying to look for you.”

“Pah! My own fault, really. I got all frazzled, you know,” Ralph’s eyes widen as he gestures wildly, making you laugh. “I still feel a tad so now!”

“It helps to kind of start resting your head for a bit. Here,” you pat your shoulder and Ralph takes the hint, tucking himself inwards to rest his head on your shoulder. Yours head falls onto his instinctively, and you set your phone to the front camera. You see Ralph’s small, contented smile, quickly plaster one of your own on and snap a photo.

Ralph then frowns, “Oh, no! I wasn’t prepared!”

“Exactly. Look,” you say fondly as you show him the photo. Both of you looking happy and comfortable, despite some bumps in the road. A perfectly normal first night out for Ralph.

“Can you put that one on my phone too, please?” he asks sleepily.

Reluctantly, you push his head away from you. “Yes, but c’mon, sleepyhead. We still have to get home.”

Ralph doesn’t make it the whole journey home, his head once again flopping against yours in the back seat of the taxi as he sleeps. You manage to prod him awake once you’re back outside your block of flats, though, and he trudges along behind you into the lift and along the hallway until you’re back in the safety of the flat again. “Gimme a minute to grab some PJs for the night, yeah?”

“Of course. I think I should use the bathroom properly now,” he nods.

You pull a face, “Yeah, the fact you’ve gone the whole night without it is honestly impressive!” You hear Ralph chuckle under his breath as you go back into your room, blindly head to your pyjama drawer, take out the first top and bottoms that you can feel, regardless of whether or not they match, and head back into the front room, opting to duck beneath the kitchen counter to change.

Ralph re-emerges a few minutes later, his voice drawling wearily as he asks, “Would you like the bed for tonight? I can’t imagine the morning should be pleasant for either of us.”

You walk over to him and put your hand on his shoulder as you chuckle, “It’ll be fine. You probably need it more than I do, that was probably heavier than what you’re used to.”

“I had a shot tonight, you know,” Ralph tells you with intrigue.

Your eyebrows shoot up, “Oh, yeah? And how did that go for you?”

“Absolutely awful,” he replies simply, pulling a face of disgust, and you both laugh.

“Yeah, you’ll definitely need the bed, then,” you nod. “Did you have a good time, though?”

“Oh, most certainly!” he grins. “I’ve made so many new friends! And I really rather think I’ve made a good impression on your friends, as well.”

“You know they’re your friends too, right?” you ask, cocking your head. Ralph tries to wave you off, and you pull a face of disbelief. “Come off it, they love you! I bet you had a great time with them earlier, didn’t you?”

“Oh, yes, absolutely! Um, but… I did… Um… It wasn’t quite the same without your presence there,” he mumbles.

You frown, “Did you say anything about your past?”

“Oh, no, that never came up! Just… Oh, ignore me, I’m dreadfully tired,” Ralph rubs his face wearily.

“Yeah, you’ll be thanking me for the greasy-ass breakfast I’ll be making us in the morning, so get ready for that,” you grin at him before pulling him in for a goodnight hug. He may smell like a fragrance store with all the proximity he’s had to several perfumed people, but there’s still something comforting about being able to bury your face into his shoulder and taking a deep breath in. Ralph’s arms tighten around you as you do so, as he allows himself the luxury of squeezing his eyes shut and just enjoying the moment.

You eventually pull away with a yawn, “Alright, I think we’re both about to fall asleep standing up, so… Night, Ralph.”

“Y-yes. Of course. Goodnight. Pleasant dreams,” Ralph smiles awkwardly at you before walking quickly to the bedroom.

You set yourself up on the sofa and start looking through the day’s photos. Ralph’s little instagram photoshoot doesn’t feel like it was only this morning, and you can’t help but let yourself fall into the trap of looking at the photo of him laughing again. Shaking your head again, as though that’ll do anything at this point, you scroll through to the photo of all six of you in Grace’s house and set it as your lock screen. You keep scrolling through hurriedly to your other favourite photo of the night, and, while it may be a little delusional, you set the photo of the two of you at the end of the night as your home screen. You’re used to being into people who you can’t have, be it from their disinterest or other reasons, so what’s the harm in indulging yourself a little by imagining a world where the two of you could always be like that?

That’s what Ralph tells himself too as he stares at the photo on his own phone screen until the need for sleep finally takes over.

next chapter

#ralph timewasters #ralph timewasters x reader #ralph timewasters x you #ralph timewasters fanfic #ralph timewasters imagine #ralph penbury #ralph penbury x reader #ralph penbury x you #ralph penbury fanfic #ralph penbury imagine #ralph timewasters fluff #ralph penbury fluff #bsbl #fic: bsbl #*myfics

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emmalovesfitzloved · 4 months

Note

Last question, who are your fav downwolders and why?

Ahh… well it has to be….

The one….

The only….

💫Magnus Bane! 🥂

(Art credit: @cassandrajean )

Queue the music!

Now. Reasons reasons reasons. Where to begin.

I took my time thinking about this question bc there are quite a few downworlders I have an affinity to. But the showdown where it was REALLY hard to pick one or the other was the battle of the warlocks…

Tessa or Magnus.

On the one hand, I love Tessa So much (wrote a piece on why you can find here hehe) and I truly think she is a timeless character (well before she became literally timeless ie. immortal) and her influence throughout the shadowhunter world is iconic, relevant and enduring.

(Art credit: @giannyfili )

However… her choices and inner narrative became a bit clumsy dealt with and a bit inconsistent unlike Magnus’s, as the shadowhunter novels went on. Of course, characters are allowed to change, grow, develop at any age, but her character felt slightly manipulated in the writing? All for the sake of peddling the plot. Not to get TOO into the whole herongraystairs touchy topic but I do think as I’ve grown up and done over a handful of rereads I do spot the slight manipulation that started then, which kind of set a precedence in her character throughout. I adore Jem but he as well was felt a bit clumsily. Topic for another time.

Meanwhile Magnus, while through his own self discoveries and through his own immortalities feels more cleaner in plot. He’s necessary, vibrant, witty and is that character that you ALWAYS look forward to reading. He is That character that just lights up a room and you wait with baited breath on what he’s going to say next. His air of lightness that he brings into every interaction makes you be able to read and listen to him all day long. With long promises made of laughter, sage advice, experience, history and adventure.

“I've got a stele we can use. Who wants to do me?""A regrettable choice of words," muttered Magnus (City of Ashes).

And because of this, when he is being serious, his words strike you when you least expect it and leave you stunned.

“You endure what is unbearable, and you bear it. That is All” (Clockwork Princess).

His bisexuality was handled wonderfully, and was truly one of the first stories I think our generation read where the sexual identity wasn’t about coming out but already at the stage of acceptance and fun loving. He remains respectful and doesn’t want Alec to rush out of the closet but rather does the best thing- inspire Alec to be the best version of himself in life which is finite. That’s the best thing a partner can really do for you.

However he isn’t a Mary Sue bc in every series he stars in the reader sees his vulnerabilities in pure daylight. And also has a plot line that challenges his Yodha immortal dogmas. Will being one weakness of his in TID, Camille and how she mistreated him and being alone in a very sad world. I don’t think these topics were explored nearly as well with Tessa.

“You left me. You made a pet out of me, and then you left me. If love were food, I would have starved on the bones you gave me” (City of Fallen Angels).

And of course, his relationship and development with Alec is my top 3 relationships in all the shadowhunter world. It felt natural, wonderful, sizzling, exciting and steadfast. Didn’t feel too young or naive like I sometimes feel when reading Clace, but new enough to feel like the honeymoon will never end. And I think in part it’s because of Magnus bringing out the best in people, and how Alec chose him. Of all the people Magnus helps out, he actually doesn’t really ask much in return. But for once Alec did a double take on him and let Magnus take the reins of where their relationship will lead them. With great readership payoff 🥹💍

“You could give me the past,“ he said a little sadly. “But Alec is my future” (City of Fallen Angels).

(Art credit: kasirose)

In fact, he has SO much to offer we got standalones, his own mini series with his partner and constant features in further novellas stories. There is no other character in the Shadowhunter chronicles who has been that centre stage as him. And he deserves all of it.

Favourite Swiftie songs that r HIS:

• BEJEWELED

• Begin Again

• Welcome to New York

• You’re in Love

• Karma

• You’re Not Sorry

• Ours

• I Know Places

• You’re on Your Kid

• Castles Crumbling

• The Last Great American Dynasty

• The 1

• Hoax

So yeah the superlative for the best Downworlder has to go to the delightfully and wonderfully written…

Magnus Bane <3

(Art credit: kasirose)

So yeah! I hope the answer makes up for the wait @imabitchforjemcarstairs ILY! And thank you so much for the lovely ask!

P.s. if any artist doesnt want to be affiliated, kindly DM me and I’ll remove your lovely art and mention from the post :))

#bejeweled magnus #magnus bane #shadowhunters essay #TSC #TES #cassandra clare #TDA #TLH #Malec #TID #ask #iamabitchforjemcarstairs

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maryannecrimsworth · 1 year

Text

Sweet Dreams

gif belongs to @tvandfilm

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11

Guide for tormented hearts

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Selective Mute! Reader

Warnings: flashback in italics, violence, mention of past trauma,

Summary: Having a sleepover in Wednesday's room was stressful enough, but having a sleepover with her and Enid was...you don't even had a word for it. Somehow, you ended up being interviewed by Enid. And, somehow, you felt Wednesday's hands involving yours in the middle of the night.

Some reader's characteristics: R has anxiety disorder, selective mutism, and is a really unique type of outcast. Reader's background it's derived from my Wednesday fic, The Hunt.

The picture shown to you was deserving of an award. It was theatrical, poetic, medieval. It showed a boy hooded, half naked, with his exposed skin painted red with the letter "A".

Any normal teenager would associate it with a popular series, and fear the one who pranked the hooded boy. However, the few who knew the true meaning behind the letter, knew that it was a punishment.

Surprisingly, Enid belonged to the second group, and her gossip blog was used to share the truth about the pranked boy — there weren't files or proof of what he had done, you didn't leave any on the scene. You know that the rumors about why a popular jock was hanged and mocked like this would ruin him — that's why you did it. Still, Wednesday complained about how merciful you were. For a second, you thought she was the one who told Enid to post about all the truth about the boy, but Wednesday seemed as surprised as you with her sudden arrival.

"OMG!" She gasped, running over to you both. "Did you guys see this? I still can't believe it!" The she-wolf showed you an Instagram post with the photo of the boy hanged. "Don't pity him though, Divina knows the guy and....well, let's say someone was really angry at him."

You couldn't help but chuckle.

"Do you think it's funny?"

Yes.

You said nothing, but Wednesday did.

"It's silly. I doubt anyone understood it."

"They will." Enid added right away. "I made sure of it and also...the guy felt so humiliated that he started to confess!" She was a bit too excited about it. "He bullied some kids from Nevermore too. Hank will be very busy because of him." Wednesday's eyes widened. "A bunch of older victims gathered the courage to accuse him too!" Enid cheered. "It's a bad guy paying for his crimes." The she-wolf seemed too happy about it, and both you and Wednesday watched in her silence for a brief moment. "We should know who did it."

You stepped away immediately, and Wednesday’s gaze followed you.

"Why is that?" She asked Enid, her eyes still on you as you walked away.

"Well, first, they committed a crime too, so the police will be looking for them." She argued, voice more steady and controled now. "Second, they deserved an award for their courage! I mean, it was a great idea! Efficient, cruel just enough." Enid suddenly stepped towards Wednesday. "Please don't tell anyone I said this."

"Do I look like I'd?"

Enid rolled her eyes and finally directed her attention to you. "Y/N!" She called you. "What do you think?"

It was hard for you to keep a blank face. In a dangerous act, you tilted your head in Wednesday's direction and smirked.

"No!" Enid jumped over to Wednesday. "You did not!"

"How dare—" She tried to hiss at you, but Enid grabbed her shoulders.

"How did you know it?" The she-wolf inquired. "OMG! You gotta tell me everything!"

"I'll kill you." She roared at your direction while Enid walked her to her colored side of the room.

"Please, please, I have to post it!"

"No."

"But—"

"I'm offended by your belief that I truly made such a harmless plan." She shoved Enid away with a cold glance and walked towards you slowly, following you by the room as you kept trying to flee. "I'd have done worse. Much worse." She finally cornered you. Wednesday stood so close to you that you weren't able to see Enid anymore. You weren't able to seek help anymore. "Y/N did it."

You held your breath instinctively — if you breathed wrong, Wednesday could kill you. And if you looked at her wrong, she would kill you.

Your gaze was locked on hers; you could not dare to contemplate the smirk on her lips or the freckles on her cheeks; you could not dare to follow the trace of her jawline or watch how softly her bang moved. If you did it right now, you did not know what the consequences would be.

However, Wednesday wasn't so cautious. Her gaze fell to your lips immediately, and her smirk grew wickedly as she watched your features twisting in stir and confusion.

"Please tell me everything!" Enid pumped up beside you and you jumped in reflex. Your eyes finally left Wednesday's. "Please! I promise I'll leave you anonymous but I have to know everything about that guy." Enid held your hand and pulled you away from the goth girl. "I want everyone to know what he had done."

You glanced at Wednesday for a brief second, not trying to get allowance, but to know why she did it, why she revealed you.

She wanted you to be friends with Enid too? Or was it a little revenge for your silly action?

Either way, it despaired you; You were sweating under Enid's careful touch.

She was glancing at you with expectation, and part of you knew Hank would never approve it.

But Hank didn't approve anything.

So you shook your head.

The interview with Enid turned out to be a slumber party. While she giggled and gasped at your short responses, Thing helped her to build...something. A fortress, you guessed, made of colorful blankets. Half of it was pink and yellow, the other half was black and white. You stood in the middle, unsure of where to go.

"So you found him drunk in the street and took your chance?" She asked after laying on the padded floor. "It was spontaneous like that?"

You shook your head, but it was Wednesday who replied. Your surprise by her voice was so great that you stepped back and watched her carefully.

"Y/N told me about the plan before we found him."

"So you found the douche in the street together?"

"Yes." She replied, unaware of where Enid wanted to get.

You were.

"So you were walking together? Like a date?"

You stepped away once again. You didn’t want to stand between the two girls right now.

"We spent the night together." Enid gasped, but Wednesday went on. "Investigating."

"I thought Hank was your partner in crime."

"Not anymore."

Not anymore. So you were. You were her partner.

You clutched your hands and grabbed your own arms, scratching yourself at distance from them both.

"Are you done with your questions?"

"No."

Wednesday stared at Enid, but the she-wolf didn't back away.

"Does Hank know about it?"

"Hank's a suspect."

You could no longer hear them. Your nervousness and excitement turned to anger in less than a second; you stormed out of the room with silent steps.

"What?"

"He's been lying to all of us."

Wednesday could only hear you closing the window to the balcony. Enid, Thing, and Wednesday watched you walking purposely and climbing over the rail.

A chill ran over Wednesday's body for a moment; she froze, and her chest stopped beating with the thought of what you could do. But you remained motionless, simply sat over the parapet, fingers tapping the concrete nervously.

You knew he was a suspect — it was obvious — you had no reason to react like this. No reason at all.

Still, you ran away from her like you did after arguing with Hank. Like you were angry and offended, upset. Why would you—

"Wednesday." Enid's voice stopped her train of thought. She glanced at the she-wolf abruptly, her expression flushed and confused like her roommate had never seen. "Go talk to him."

Silently, Wednesday followed the advice and walked to the balcony with loud steps. Behind her, Thing started to sign to Enid with hushed gestures.

"Y/N"

"What's your family like?" You shot at her; You didn't give her the chance to approach you, you didn't even turn to talk to her. She walked towards you before answering.

"Smothering and embarrassing."

"So they love you." Your voice didn't sound affected, nor angry. It sounded distant. "They love you." You whispered, and Wednesday wouldn't have listened to you if she hadn't just sat by your side.

Your head was turned to the sky darkening, your feet moved in the air as your fingers tapped the rail.

Where were you?

"I could say it's my dream." You said suddenly, low voice and eyes on the heavens. "To have a family like this."

"You don't know them."

"I know you." Your head dropped, but you didn't look back at her. "And I....I think..." Your voice was disappearing. "I think you are..." Wednesday noticed how red your face turned one moment before you shook your head and moved away from her. "I had a family too." You said with more strength in your tone. "After my father, I found Hank and...Rachel." You smiled weakly, and finally turned to Wednesday. Her skin mingled when she saw the sadness in your face. "Hank is not a suspect. He cannot be." Your gaze dropped as your fingers stopped tapping. Slowly, your whole body and countenance seemed to be turning off. "Not after he had done to Rachel....for me."

"I saw your poem." Wednesday told you, voice colder than you wished. "He took you back to the camps."

"He made a deal with the devil. He surrendered in order to keep me alive."

"He gave up. He killed Rachel. He locked you. "

"He—" you choked. "He kept me alive...from her." Your hand unconsciously touched your right rib. "I got hurt when we first escaped and Rachel...wanted to use it. Use me."

Wednesday frowned at your downcast expression.

You were betrayed too.

How were you not angry?

"But in your poem you blame him. You say you miss her."

"I do." You whispered. "She was desperate, and I still think she didn't mean it. But Hank...He became one of them that night." You wiped a tear away. "He's still my family, but he's bonded to them too."

"How?"

"Through blood." You swallowed dryly. "Now he owns a camp too."

"He's guilty too."

"Y-yes." You turned to her, eyes gleaming with tears. "I don't know what to do."

"He deserves it, Y/N."

"He was used!"

"He made a choice." She retorted firmly. Mercilessly.

You widened at her, lips suddenly clued in a straight line.

She would never have mercy for him, or for anybody. She was not like this.

"He's my brother." Your grunt made Wednesday frown. You sounded, probably for the first time ever, upset. "My family."

"I cannot let him—"

"I know." You cut her off. "I'm only asking for a chance. For a doubt." You felt her hand suddenly; you didn't intend to hold her, nor reach her, but she was sitting closer than you thought. Your skin brushed against her only for a moment. Only before you ask: "Could you?"

"You're naive."

You shook your head, slowly and lazily. It was the response: no, she could not.

She would never have mercy on Hank.

You accepted defeat with a hard swallow and turned your head to the stars again. With her intervention or not, you'd protect Hank.

But you preferred to have her by your side.

"Yes." She said, and you turned to her so quickly that you almost lost your balance. "Only one." She repeated strictly.

And then she saw that smile again, the same when she said you were friends, ecstatic and electrified. Alive, more than ever, so energetic it made her feel it too. And what she felt made she look away, but she could still hear your happiness when you said:

"Thank you."

Fear has become something you got used to: since you first left your father's farm, on the day he took you to the festival, you were afraid. You were afraid because you didn't know what you'd find outside your little world — but you loved it.

Then you felt afraid again, a few years later, when you had the chance to walk around the forest by yourself. You felt afraid when you understood that the toy in your hands — the very same one the L/N's gave in order to conquer you — was stained with your father's blood.

You were afraid the night after, when you were completely alone in the camps — and you felt afraid every single night since then.

Fear guided you, drove you: it made you hide, and it kept you alive this far. You hate it.

But, tonight, you felt none of it — just like the night before, when you counted the freckles on Wednesday’s hands. When you felt the warmth of her closeness, and the hitch of her breath as she read your writing. Somehow, despite being haunted and hunted together, you felt no fright, and you knew she was responsible for it.

She was brave like no one you've met before — and maybe, just maybe, some part of her courage has rubbed off on you. Just like she was learning to write poems from you, you were learning bravery from her.

And it was your brand new courage that made you look for her in the middle of the night.

"Wednesday?" You whispered in the dark, not sure if she was awake. As comfortable as you were, laid down on the blanket fortress, you didn't seem able to fall asleep. "I must tell you something."

"Do not thank me again." She hissed, way louder than you. Surprisingly, the she-wolf was still asleep. Her snoring was still louder than yours and Wednesday’s voices. "It's unnecessary and distressing."

"No." You felt your face heating. "It's not that."

"Then say it." Her words were met with silence: suddenly, from her side, Wednesday heard and felt nothing but your shaking breathing. You were closer than she expected, and she was surprised when you moved slightly away.

"That night…" She could feel the sheet slipping under her as you spoke. "When you saw m—the Alp." You corrected yourself hushedly. "It got inside your head."

Wednesday turned her face to you: her features moved fast, attentively in the dark, but she couldn't find you. She could only hear your hoarse, low voice, whispering the last words she wanted to hear.

"I saw what he did." You paused. If Wednesday could see you, she wouldn't stand the expression in your face, nor understand it: the frowned eyes, scrunched nose, twisted lips. She wouldn't recognize your anger — she had never seen it, after all — but it disturbed your face as much as it burned your body. And she would never comprehend how it did not affect your voice. "And I must tell you that…" Her hand reached you in the pitch dark. "You're wrong." Wednesday's touch made you gasp the words; for a brief second, your tone failed, but you went on, no matter how hard her grip was.

"You're not unlovable." You held her instead of fleeing: that was what she expected you to do. To shy away from her, from her touch — that was what she wanted to do. "You're not detached."

Her fingers left your skin and you shook. You trembled in the complete dark. But you had to finish.

"You have a heart that overwhelms you and I—" Your voice cracked. "I…" You closed your eyes and said, "I want to know it."

Wednesday remained out of your sight, and the room suddenly went silent — you saw nothing and heard nothing. Not even Enid's roars.

"Please" You whispered last. "Would you let me know your heart?"

Coldness involved your burning face as you felt something suddenly coming closer — the dark was not enough to hide Wednesday now. Her hands were on you, and could watch her eyes, only inches away from yours, targeting you. Not with rage, not with determination, but with an unknown gleam that shone even in the darkness.

And those same pitch black, yet bright eyes closed as her breath engulfed you.

"Guys?" Enid moaned, her claws stretching out and reaching Wednesday's blanket. The Addams girl retreated immediately, and the sound coming from her gritting teeth proved that she was more annoyed than startled. "You fine?"

"I'll kill you." Wednesday roared.

"Oh" Enid yawned. "Sweet dreams for ya"

Sinclair's snores restarted, and your heat finally felt like ceasing. But the coldness didn't leave your skin, then you realized Wednesday's hand was still covering yours.

"You need to sleep." You felt her grip pulling you in her direction.

"I don't want to." Either way, you obeyed, moving slowly over the blankets. "I don't want her to end this."

'This' , Wednesday thought again, 'what was this?'

"I won't let it." She spoke before her mind could silence her: her rationale told her she should not, but the heat coming from your body, now laying so close to hers, confused her. Her hand was still on your skin, and she was the one pulling you closer. "I won't let her."

She felt your hair trickling her skin, and she smiled; the smell of dew and old books mingled inside of her lungs. Suddenly, her whole body was filled by your scent, and an uncontrollable smile grew widely in her lips.

You could only see a glimpse of it and, yet, it was the most beautiful image you have ever seen: Wednesday, laid by your side, smiling blatantly at you. Because of you.

You intertwined your fingers with hers, and her slow breathing soon helped you to relax.

You were smiling too, and enjoying her closeness with serenity: your hands were glued together, as your heads brushed softly. You were close enough to keep each other at safety, at peace. At fondness.

At warmth and rest.

"Sweet dreams, Wednesday."

You whispered, almost in her ear, before closing your eyes.

"Sweet dreams, Y/N."

"You don't understand what she's like." Rachel hissed in a desperate whisper, running after Hank as he paced over the room, looking for as many remedies as he could find. "We cannot stop now. She'll find us. She'll find Y/N if he—"

"If he doesn't sleep, he'll die." Hank argued back, picking a bottle of alcohol and gathering it with the others medical equipments. "It's out of discussion."

A sob of pain grew louder as they approached you: the bed was soaked with your sweat , and your gritting teeth could be heard from meters away. You were grasping the sheet as if they were your life — your freedom. And in some certain way, they really were; if you blacked out now, the Alp would rise, and the Hexe would find you all.

If you stayed awake, however, such as you were trying so hard to be now....maybe you wouldn't make it.

"If he sleeps, we all die." Rachel repeated, in a stronger and deeper voice. "We need to let him, Hank...It's him or us."

"What?"

"Your heard me." Rachel sobbed. "We can come back later, with policemen and weapons. We can free everyone and end this!" You grunted: only a few words made sense to you, but her cries forced you to look up. To look at her. And to notice how painfully she avoided your gaze. Her eyes were locked on a distant figure: Hank, then agitated and reactive, now was quiet, motionless. Rachel watched his back, his almost unnoticeable breathing. She went on: "We can, I swear we will, but only if we survive now!" The boy didn't move. He stood in the dark, completely silent. "Hank, please!"

What happened next was hard for you to understand: you saw a bright flash of blue light, you heard a roar — maybe Hank's, maybe your own — and you felt a weight. A grip, claws cutting deep into your skin as you tried to scream.

But it wasn't Hank. Your widened eyes glanced at the creature that made you winch: an werewolf. Rachel's transformed. Her claws and teeth engulfed* you as the blue light approached — your flesh was pierced apart, and when you thought that the cut on your rib would knock you down, the pain coming through your chest awakened you.

"STOP!" A voice, trembling and low like fire crackling, took over your ears — your mind. The presence of the devil dominated your mind before you could actually see it. The Kigatilik was in front of you, white and curled as always, long claws and fingers being raised as the blood emerged, soaking your clothes.

You blinked, slowly, painfully: the scene didn't make sense for you; You only recognized the inuit, and its broad, monstrous back covered every glimpse of the werewolf. Hank — now in his devilish form — stood between you and Rachel. He— it forced the beast away, marching over to her until the roars became barks. In the middle of the dark, in the middle of the night — the monsters were fighting over you. Sweat and blood sprinkled over you, mingling with your own.

You couldn't see much, you couldn't hear much; all you could do was breathe: it was hard and painful, but you managed to — you had to.

The last thing your understood was:

"Take me." The plea came from a hoarse, sobbing voice. It came from below, from the devil crawling on the floor, on the pool of blood. "Not him. Take me." There was a shadow standing above him. You saw: you knew it. You could see the gleam of its eyes shining in the dark. Like the shadow itself was watching you.

Like a nightmare observing.

Like the Mare.

The Hexe said "Yes."

And it all went black.

#wednesday x you #wednesday x reader #wednesday x male reader #selective mute #original character #wednesday fic #german folklore #enid sinclair

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