#we are made to care for each other even as the world chews us up

[qirongmycancelledwife]

i'm terrible at expressing why i hold such deep affection for tgcf but this is part of it

[suncoved]

RAFE, SCARY? PFFT ! — RAFE CAMERON

pairing; boyfriend!rafe cameron x fem!reader

summary: you had the most loving, sweet, precious boyfriend in the world. so why were your new found friends so scared of him?

prompt: “you let anything happen to her and i’ll fucking kill you, alright?”

you could barely contain your happiness as you applied your 5th layer of glittery lipgloss on your lips, holding the decorated pink tube in your manicured fingers. you batted your eyelids at the clock hung on rafe's wall.

kiara told you to be there at 8:00 and it was currently 7:30.

but you didn't want to be late, so leaving now was a good plan for you.

you had never met kiara's friends before. you had been best friends with her your whole life, but after she and sarah split, they told you you had to pick a side. and you would never tell sarah that the main reason you picked her was because of her psychotic older brother who was always roaming aimlessly around tannyhill.

sarah was your best friend, and you wouldn't trade her for the world.

but you couldn't help but ponder over what would have happened if you picked kiara, what life you would have had.

you missed her, truly. so when faced with the oppurtity to reconnect with her through your mothers exchanging numbers on one random night at the wreck, you took it.

and before you knew it she was inviting you to come down to the boneyard with some of her friends from the cut, to which you accepted gratefully.

you were snapped out of your thoughts when you heard the bathroom door click open, the steam rolling out from underneath it like a tidal wave. you turned your head softly at the noise, placing the lipgloss applicator quickly back in the tube.

beads of water trickled down his v line, escaping into the beige towel wrapped around his waist into a place you didn't even have the time to imagine. he lifted his hand up to his head, running a hand through his now brown hair that had darkened from getting wet under the stream of water.

"quick rafe we have to go!" you whined, trying to avoid eye contact with the 6'2 tall build distraction in front of you. you shuffled around the room, going into his closet and picking out clothes for him to quickly put on since he insisted — well — demanded, on driving you down to the boneyard.

you shoved the clothes into his hands, his hand making contact with yours momentarily, creating a spark between the two of you. your cheeks flushed as you quickly looked away, turning around and taking a seat at the foot of the bed.

you watched as he made no effort to move, a smirk you know all too well gracing his face. "rafe, i mean it. get changed" you groaned as you pushed your palms into the soft covers of his king sized bed.

"if you wanted to see me naked baby, you could just say that."

your cheeks quickly turned into the darkest shade of pink you could imagine, your hands quickly reached up to your face, covering your eyes as you huffed softly.

he scoffed at your movements, reaching over to spread your fingers apart so you could see through them. "im just joking ma, you've seen it all before." he winked, moving back to see the full sight of him while lifting his bicep up and flexing it in your face.

you jokingly rolled your eyes, falling onto the bed so you were now staring at the ceiling. your fingers found their way to each other, nervously intertwining as you thought.

you heard rafe shuffling around near his closet, his fly ziping up and the clink of his belt being melody to your ears. "what if they don't like me?"

your voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. if rafe wasn't listening he definitely would have missed it. but he always listens.. to you.

"impossible" he stated simply, using a tone that left no room for discussion. he didn't use that tone often, but when he did, you stayed quiet.

you chewed on your bottom lip, knitting your brows together.

you were so lucky to have rafe in your life. he was kind, caring and patient and always knew how to calm your anxiety.

honestly, you were surprised he let you go down to the beach with the pogues in the first place. you tried your best to keep out of that whole kook-pouge turf war as best as possible. to you, it was immature, unnecessary and just pointless. but it had been around on the island since before you could remember.

though, it was safe to say that you and rafe didn't see eye to eye on that topic. he didn't like the pogues, not one bit. and he made that very, very clear.

he knew how much you loved kiara, and how your face lit up when your mother's voice echoed through rafe's car speakers when she called you after seeing kiara's mother.

it took him longer to warm up to the idea that you would be seeing her whole friend group, which consists of just pogues, and most importantly, jj maybank.

there was nothing more rafe hated than jj maybank.

yet, he knew how happy this would make you. and he was willing to do this, for you. only for you.

"ready bubs" rafe announces, smoothing his polo down haphazardly and stuffing his feet into his shoes. he hears you pulling yourself up and off his bed, your socked feet padding over to him and resting your head on his chest.

he smiles and he brings his arms around your body. sighing contently as he places a kiss on your head before resting his chin on you. "they are gonna love you, like everyone loves you. don't think for a second that they won't"

you giggle against him, somehow trying to push yourself further into him, which was impossible.

"no im being serious baby, i have some serious competition." rafe huffed, pulling himself back from you and looking at your face peering up at him.

"shut up" you joke, your cheeks burning as you blushed at his words. he leaned down until his lips met yours, bringing his fingers to your chin and lifting your head up.

you two melted into each other, your sweet strawberry lipgloss coating his lips quickly. he didn't care though, he was kissing you. so nothing else mattered.

you were losing yourself in his touch, not noticing he was slowly pushing you back until your calfs hit the back of his dark oak bed frame and your body eventually fell against the soft fabric of his covers.

he slipped his hand up your lacy white cami, dragging his fingers up and down the soft skin of your stomach. he detached his lips from yours as his cold slender fingers slipped under the wire of your bra, kissing his way down your neck and chest.

you bit your now chapped lips as you looked down the the brunette boy making goosebumps appear over your skin. you threw your head back against his pillow closing your eyes and opening them again as your head lulled to the side.

your eyes fixated to the clock resting on his wall, reading 7:54. your mind ticked for a second before realising where you needed to be in exactly six minutes, gasping rather dramaticlly.

rafe's head snaps up to look at you, his eyes hooded with worry and hunger at the same time. it was only when he followed your eyes to his sleek white clock that he realised what had happened.

he rolled his eyes and he pulled your shirt back over your stomach, leaving one last searing kiss before smoothing the material down.

"rafe we have to go, now. now!" you whisper yelled almost slipping and you tried to put on your shoes while you hobbled out of his bedroom.

"baby, baby." he spoke, hopping up and walking quickly after you. he reached out to your waist holding you stable so you didn't slip over and hurt yourself.

"ok, ok. ill be careful. lets just go!" you gasped, trying to wiggle out of his firm grip. he chuckled as he let go, watching as you speed down the stairs of tannyhill and down to his white jeep parked out the front.

it was a fairly uneventful ride down to the boneyard, rafe's hand resting on your bouncing leg the whole time, slightly soothing the nervous feeling arising in your chest.

"c'mon baby, we're here" he voiced, opening his car door before quickly jumping out and circling the car before he opened yours for you. your eyes drifted down to the beach as rafe helped you out of his rather tall car.

a blonde boy with a backward cap resting on his head sat on a log with two other boys around your age, beers resting in their hands as they talked. your eyes followed along the beach where you saw kiara picking up trash along the shore, smiling brightly to yourself.

rafe intertwined his hand with yours, tightly squeezing it as he narrowed his eyes at the people on the beach. "you don't have to drink yeah? just tell them no, ok?" rafe spoke.

you nodded softly, peering up at him through your lashes to see his face stern and menacing.

you began walking first, dragging rafe softly behind you as your shoes hit the soft sand below you. you kept your eyes glued to your feet the whole way until you heard voices now crystal clear echoing through your ears.

"hey, you made it!" kiara exclaimed, bringing her arms around you as you let go of rafes hand. "hi kie" you murmured into her shoulder, embracing her into a soft hug.

"hey, rafe. what're you doing down these parts?" the blonde boy asked, standing up from his spot on the large log he was sitting down on before. you saw rafe tick his jaw to the side as you pulled away from kiara, his tongue sliding through the front of his teeth.

"just dropping her off maybank, not here to stay" rafe remarked, turning his attention to you as he leaned down and placed a kiss on your cheek, ghosting his hands over your sides as he pulled back from you.

"call me when you need me to pick you up yeah?" rafe said, keeping his eyes on you as you nodded hastily. he smiled sweetly at you, watching as kiara grabbed your hand a pulled you down to the shore, showing you the tiny baby turtles rushing into the water in front of you.

"hey jj" rafe said, turning his head to the boy standing a few feet from him, not daring to come any closer. rafe watched as he nodded cautiously, pursing his lips together as to almost prepare himself for what rafe was about to say.

rafe took a few steps before he reached jj, grabbing the fabric of his shirt and hoisting him up until they were face to face.

“you let anything happen to her and i’ll fucking kill you, alright?"

[fragmentating]

Honestly not much radicalized me in regards to bodily autonomy the way being a chronic selfharmer for 10+ years has. And one of those things that really are so awful to deal with is a lack of privacy.

When I go inpatient and they ask me if I have wounds, and I answer honestly, they dont just write that down. They make me undress and show each single one, otherwise I wont be "processed" and let into my room.

In the underage psych ward I was in they would sometimes search the rooms of known selfharmers while we were away at a therapy appointment, or seeing family in the visitation room, etc. They wouldn't tell you. They would lie about it if you asked about it. But all your shit had been moved around slightly, enough for observant people to notice. If they found blades, or any other sharp object regardless of it you had used it to selfharm though, you would obviously be punished.

One time I cut and went to the nurses for help, I was scared because it had never been that deep before and their response was tossing my room after I had voluntarily given them the two blades i had, while a male nurse kept saying how uncomfortable he was that he "had to" inspect my pads, saying "why would you need that many", ... they had metal detectors. They could've just swiped it across everything. But that wouldn't have been humiliating enough like seeing a nurse dig through my underwear and pads and diary.

Outside of the psych ward, my family kept up a similar approach. They did not search my room at least, knowing it was futile because there were always knifes in the house if I was desperate anyways, and a store down the street that sold razors. But locked doors were my mothers enemy. If I locked my door to masturbate, and she noticed it was locked? She would knock and yell until I opened it. If I simply wanted to relax in a bath but she decided it was suspiciously long ? The same.

When they couldn't catch me in the act but my scars kept getting more and more theyd threaten me with being hospitalized again.

When the hospital ER would send me to the closed ward for cuts that had nothing to do with suicidal ideation, but they decided I must be lying because it was deep enough, no matter how often I said I simply "messed up" because of adrenaline and blades that were sharper than expected. They had no legal ground to lock me up again but who cares, right. Its just one of those freaks who cuts themselves anyways.

And none of this kept me safe. None of this prevented me from cutting majority of the time. It made me distrust the ER. It made me distrust nurses. It made me hide my body even around my family. And when it did momentarily work I simply started harming myself in other ways. I ended up covered in bruises, with minor concussions, increasingly starving myself, depriving myself of sleep, ...

No one ever went "let's really try to figure out why you do this." Instead they went "why the fuck wont you just chew some bubble gum and roll a spikey ball on the soles of your feet you depressed fuck" or some shit like bro I am being severely traumatized by the world and this is my reaction. It's all "you are the problem".

And as an adult whos decided that I'm not interested in quitting, who "only" practices harm reduction I know that absolutely no one wants to accept that as a choice I should be allowed to make. Doesnt matter that I'm an expert at taking care of wounds and I have not had a single infection in 10+ years aside from once on wounds that got fucking stitched at the hospital. that I actively do my best to avoid lasting damage. That I try to keep the frequency low. They put me through years of surveillance and shame and threats without ever trying to see the root cause, only ever treat me as a bratty problem child who's being difficult just to fuck with them, and can not understand why that wouldn't make me want to stick to the goals they have set for me.

Therapists genuinely lose their mind when I tell them I don't want ~sobriety~ I just want to reduce harm and get on with my life. Their teachings do not allow for this to be but a short term compromise. I do not care.

[iaure]

𝔩𝔬𝔯𝔡 ℑ 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔯𝔶; 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔦𝔰 𝔳𝔦𝔬𝔩𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔢

𝖞𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖒𝖎𝖌𝖚𝖊𝖑 𝖔❜𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖆 𝖝 𝖋𝖊𝖒!𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗

𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 2: 𝔴𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔦𝔫 𝔪𝔶 𝔞𝔯𝔪𝔰, 𝔶𝔬𝔲'𝔯𝔢 𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔢 𝔱𝔬 𝔨𝔢𝔢𝔭 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 3: 𝔦 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱 𝔪𝔶 𝔟𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔱𝔥𝔰 𝔬𝔫 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔫𝔢𝔠𝔨, 𝔴𝔥𝔦𝔩𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔰𝔩𝔢𝔢𝔭 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 4: 𝔰𝔞𝔡𝔫𝔢𝔰𝔰 𝔰𝔴𝔢𝔢𝔱 𝔢𝔫𝔬𝔲𝔤𝔥 𝔱𝔬 𝔰𝔴𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔬𝔴 CW: self-awareness, stalking, obsession, delusion, ptsd, mention of a brother's death, thoughts of kidnapping. Written in the third person. Use of Y/N. Spoilers for Spider-Man: Across The Spiderverse.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ heaven have mercy on my simple soul. we might have another dearest series on our hands, but for miguel. god. jesus. i made this in one (1) day. it's two am.

wc: 1.7k

𝗧𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝘀𝗻❜𝘁 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗾𝘂𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝗳 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗱𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗮𝗿𝗺𝘀.

Miguel knew that feeling all too well. Gabriella faded away in his arms, a flash of technicolour and geometric shapes. An entire world, falling away and escaping from him, like grains of glass as fine as sand but still so colourful. That's what kept him moving. He never wanted someone to make the same mistake. But he was only a man. he couldn't be alone in the isolation of his own making forever. He built up those walls, praying he'd have the sense to never knock them down. But brick by brick, other people did. First was Jess. She was his friend, his sister in arms. Then Peter, then a thousand other faces and names and hearts and morals and everything that made Spider-Man, Spider-Man. They each took a brick, as though it was nothing. It was just by pure chance that she was the one to take that last brick. She was a new addition. Friendly, witty, quick on her feet. Just like everyone else. Another Spider in another place and another time. Another in a million, another clone, another warm body as fodder. But when Jess brought her to him, Miguel knew; she was one in a trillion.

She had stood next to Jess, firm, with a thousand yard stare like she'd been digging around Miguel's soul and yanking out her favourite bruises. Harrowing was a good word for it. Her estranged brother, a captain in the police, had died. She looked like she'd seen Hell. Fresh bruises, scarring, her suit torn in some places...and she stood tall.

"Spider-Woman, from Earth 7290. Also known as Y/N."

Jess spoke softly, a hand on Y/N's shoulder. Her breathing was steady but her eyes had glazed over, completely tapped out to the situation. Miguel felt his heart tug. He knew what it was like. Everyone did. Most Spiders were sad, upset, but she simply seemed...angry. Furious, even. Like if Miguel made a move towards her, she'd chew him up and spit him out. He'd seen people try to tame horses before, ones that would buck and kick and neigh until someone's leg was broken. It was like Jess was doing that. The one hand on Y/N's shoulder, keeping her in place.

"Miguel?" Jess spoke up, and he came out of his haze. "Are you listening?" "Yeah." He nodded, quietly clearing his throat. "Sure. Get her a watch." Jess shared a look with Y/N, one that he couldn't quite tell the reasoning behind, but the glance of her eyes was enough.

Spider-Woman of Earth 7290 took the last brick.

He'd see Y/N around, walking around the Spider Society and speaking with other Spiders. She seemed to hold that anger close to her heart, despite the other Spiders telling her that it'd get better over time. They'd healed, or got over it, or pushed it out of their mind. But not Y/N. She stayed mad. She stayed angry. Miguel understood that more than most. Mourning took time. So many had gotten over it after years. It wasn't fair to expect Y/N get it over it so fast. He didn't think so, anyway. After all, it was an anomaly that took her brother's life. A mistake. It had fallen off the proverbial map, but according to Jess, Y/N had 'handled it her own way'. Whatever that meant. Miguel didn't really care. All he worried about was her. Rather than just taking the brick off his walls, she smashed it in with a hammer and ran it over with a bulldozer. She had a wrecking ball to smash a single blue and red brick. And he hated it. Because what about Gabriella? What about his wife? Did their deaths mean nothing now? And how was this healthy? Granted, Miguel wasn't a healthy person. Not like that. But the sudden way his mind dedicated himself to her was absurd. Did it have to do with his DNA? With the spider mutation? Rapture? Mating season? There had to be an explanation. A cure.

But there was none.

Now, Miguel's mind was rotting away. He wished he could pry it open and take to it with tweezers, to prod out the parts that he hated. But his eyes lingered on you for a moment too long, and he knew he didn't stand much of a chance anymore. It was all Y/N, Y/N, Y/N. Even just the faint, passing scent of her was enough to drive him up a wall that very much shouldn't exist. Passing word of her wellbeing made him tune into conversations he was never part of. He began to develop a seventh sense: touch, hearing. sight, smell, taste, spidersense, and Y/Nsense.-the uncanny ability to know when she needed help. Trademarked, owned by Miguel O'Hara exclusively. Peter once teased him about how Miguel would suddenly jump up and scoot over to the cameras, checking in on Spider-Woman 7290.

The teasing didn't last long when given way to the severity of the situation.

Gradually, Miguel leaned into it. If he couldn't fight it, then join it. Revel in it. Let his eyes linger on her frame. Let his waking hours resort to thinking of her. Let him suffer. He deserved it. He began to follow Y/N around. What she didn't know wouldn't hurt her. And sometimes, Miguel would see enemies-a Vulture here, a Doc Ock there-and he'd help when she wasn't looking. Little favours here and there began cropping up. Getting her groceries. Taking care of her cat. Fiddling with the gas for the car of the one creep that kept following her around that was so sure she was Spider-Woman. Granted, the creep was right. But he didn't know that.

(He did. Love comes in many shapes and forms.)

Y/N never seemed to notice. She was off, battling her own demons and fighting the good fight in her own world. She was good and kind and still angry but she used that anger so well, and Miguel loved her for it. She burned with the anger of a thousand dying stars. She was everything. When Y/N would stop by the Spider Society, Miguel made sure to look good. Brush his hair, brush his fangs, make sure his eye bags weren't too obvious, or if they were, then they looked good. He was trying to get her to like him, after all. Check to make sure his suit didn't have any tears or holes. Because Y/N was gorgeous. She could drag herself in with her guts spilling out like roadkill and he'd still think she's the most beautiful thing to grace the multiverse.

The beauty of delusion, he supposed.

He was aware how delusional this was. He knew how absurd it was that he saw her and fell immediately. Was this what happened in fairy tales? Is this what Prince Charming felt when he saw Cinderella? The world completely spinning the moment there's even a hint of her? The complete dedication of his heart to this woman that barely acknowledged him...someone who would only glance his way if it was a requirement. Y/N was cordial to him, but little more. And it made his heart ache. She spoke to Jess more than she spoke to him. It felt wrong. It felt cruel, like a tease, trailing up and down his spine but never providing relief. One word to him was ten to Jess.

Miguel refuses to admit it, to accept that he was willing to stoop so low. But there was a brief moment where he thought about hurting Jess. Or getting her on some mission that would take forever. Breaking her bracelet when she least expected it so Y/N would have to come to him.

He'd never act on it. He was sure of that.

If there was one thing Miguel was proud of for himself, it was his restraint. He had the unparalleled ability to simply...hold off. Another day, he'd tell himself. Next time, he'd self-assure. Then another next time. Then another. Until heaven knows how many next times it's been, and he's aching for her to even look at him, but why won't she glance his way? Why was she so cold? He's done everything he could. Just look at him! For god's sake, just fucking look at him! That's all he wanted! Five minutes with your eyes on him, your undivided attention.

But no. Another day, he said. Next time.

But maybe he could simply...take Y/N away. Her world was inconsequential. It'd be easy to take care of any villains. He'd do it for her, single-handedly. She were everything. He could just keep her there, in his office, never allowed to leave. He could come back after a long mission to her loving arms, her warm embrace, flush to flush to flush to flush. He'd do unspeakable things just for her to trace the vague outline of his body with her eyes. If Y/N told him to kill, he'd do so without question anymore. Miguel barely had any control over himself.

The next time he saw her, it was while dealing with Miles. It was so much, all at once and never at all and undying and swarming his senses. It was so much that he didn't realise how much she'd been smiling at the two teenagers, how sweet her gaze got, the gentle touches and warm laughter and how Gwen and Miles looked up to her.

He didn't know Y/N had a soft spot for kids. And he found out most vividly when she was the first one to help Miles escape, blocking off what must've felt like half of the Spider Society with the same undying rage, now spent on protecting her new friend, the child she called such sweet things. That she saw as her own.

Miguel felt his heart shatter when he had to take her down. The way she fell into the floor, limp and dangling like she was nothing more than occupied space. His heart was wounded, wailing like a dying dog. She picked the newcomer, the anomaly, over him. Him, her one true love. Did it matter that she'd known it yet? No. It only mattered that she helped Miles escape.

Lord, he thought. I worry that love is violence.

[totaly-obsessed]

hiii! i love ur work so much!!!! i was wondering if i can request a kcc fic where she gets jealous hehehehehehe

Favorites

Kyra Cooney-Cross x reader request

-> Kyra finds out that she is not the favorite aunt or girlfriend

-> Hope you like it Anon, even though you probably meant a different jealousy haha

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

The national break was always a welcome break from the daily club life, even if the World Cup was not that long ago. You had arrived together with the other Matilda’s that played in England. The plane journey was a long one, but one most of you were accustomed to by now.

Your plan for it? Sleeping. As much as you could. Trainers and mostly everybody you knew tried to tell you that it was bad, but you didn’t really listen – the want to sleep much too big.

Sam, your club teammate sat next to you, anxiously chewing her nails for most of the trip as she was one of the worst fliers you knew. Your captain was always thankful to sit next to you, as you calmed her down with your deep sleep and not a care in the world.

The two seats across from you were occupied by Mary and Kyra who were playing cards, bored out of their minds. Eventually, it was the new Arsenal signing who kicked your feet to wake you. “Huh? Are we there yet?” The two started laughing at your startled face and at how fast you had sat up in your seat. “No, still a while out. You’re playing cards with us.”

It wasn’t a question, Kyra knew that you would just roll your eyes and close them again, desperate for sleep. But she also knew that even you couldn’t resist her puppy eyes, so she batted her lashes at you, knowing that you would cave in.

The two of you had been dating for over a year now. Her joining Arsenal had been the best thing ever – you finally moved in together, which was quite hard with the midfielder playing in Sweden before. Even with the both of you on rival London teams, it was the best thing ever.

When in public Kyra might seem like the excited, touchy one when in private it was you who would simply refuse to let the brunette go, cuddling as close to her as you could. So whipped as you are, you played cards with them and even managed to get Sam to play as well.

“Man, I can’t wait to see Harps again. She grows so quickly.” This has been Kyra’s first time being away for such a long time from the toddler since meeting her. The two-year-old quickly found her way into all the Matilda’s hearts, helping the team relax after a long day, her gleeful giggles sounding through the halls of the facility. “Me neither, maybe she finally decides to be a striker.” Sam was back to consciousness, always happy to talk about the youngest team member – also distracting herself from flying. None of you could help but laugh, knowing that if little Harper decided to be a footballer one day, she would follow in her mother’s footsteps and become a midfielder.

The rest of the journey was long and hard, you were just happy to have Kyra at your side, knowing that you didn’t need to talk, the brunette filling the silence all by herself.

When the group of you arrived at the team hotel it was already late in the day but most of the Tillies that roamed the halls were excited to see each other again after a very successful World Cup. “Auntie Y/N!” A small body made its way through the sea of players, crashing into your open arms as you couched down, ready to hug her. “Harps!” Giggles filled the room as you threw her up in the air and caught her again.

You could feel Katrina’s watchful eyes on you but the short midfielder was never worried when Harper was with you. With Charlie and Kyra? Panic. But once you joined them? Everything was alright. It wasn’t like you were more mature, but the way you carried yourself; serious and careful when needed but you also knew how to have fun – the perfect combination.

“Harper look, Kyra’s here too!” Your girlfriend tried to get the girl's attention but she was much too busy playing with your hair, telling you the story of how her favorite stuffy had found its way to Australia. “Babe, I’ll go make out with Charls, yeah?” When you didn’t even react, the midfielder scoffed offended.

She just got replaced by a two-year-old.

Kyra didn’t know who she envied more. You for being Harper's favorite auntie, or Harper for having all your attention when in the same room.

Once back on the ground, the toddler grabbed your hand, swiftly pulling you out to a field, commanding you to grab a ball. The rest of the Matildas watched in awe as their very stoic teammate turned to mush once the tiny blonde shouted “Again!” signaling you to roll the ball to her so that she could kick it back.

“My girlfriend just got stolen.” The young Arsenal player’s mouth was wide open as Harper took you from her, in broad daylight. Harper kept pulling you out on the field further and further until you couldn’t hear the teasing anymore – not that you paid it any mind.

“Kyra just got replaced!” It was Mackenzie who started joking at their young teammate's expanse. “I still have an open room, should harper take your bed as well!” But it was Caitlin who caused the brunette to whine in defeat.

Katrina knew that you were up to no good when she saw you crouched on the floor, telling Harper something while pointing at the rest of the Matilda’s at the side of the pitch – a devious smile on your face.

Just a few short moments her daughter ran towards them, as fast as she could, arms wide open an excited smile on her face. “Auntie!” Kyra had now crouched down as well, copying your previous action, opening her arms as the small blonde raced directly toward her.

“C’mere Harps!” But Harper had a different plan, throwing herself on the ground as she army-crawled through the midfielder's legs – jumping into Alanna’s strong arms, who stood directly behind Kyra. The crowd erupted in laughter, as you made your way back to them, a sly smirk still on your lips, seeing your girlfriend's very prominent pout as Sam patted her back. “Not the favorite girlfriend, not the favorite aunt – Man, that’s gotta hurt."

[matan4il]

Buddie 612 meta

I don’t think we’ve had this much fodder with such few scenes in a long time, and I am LIVING!

Okay, so first of all I have to mention the parallel between 217, when the team was coming in, one by one, to see the suspended Bobby, and this ep, with everyone dropping by one at a time to be there for the recovering Buck. The similarity is of course in the found family connection. In both cases we see the importance of the absent member of the team through these visits. The difference is in the way the team came to Bobby because they need him to be there for them as their captain and friend even when he’s not on the job. But in Buck’s case, they don’t need anything. They’re coming by because they want to be there for him when he needs his team members and friends. Buck’s parents needed a reason to love him. Buck’s found family in this ep is loving him anyway. ~~

I’m gonna scream about the couch in a second, but I have to admit that while I was watching the ep, the moment that REALLY had my eyes shoot wide open and my breaths go into hyperventilation is when Maddie reads the note saying Buck has gone out. Because as soon as it was made clear Buck had chosen to escape his apartment and all of his visitors, I knew where he was headed. First off, the very fact that everyone else came to him, while Eddie was the one person Buck chose to go to already had me biting my fists. Once more, like in so many other cases (for example, when the lightning hit and Eddie was filmed differently to everyone else in the 118, or the way he was the only absent person in Buck’s dream and the only one Buck remembered without needing a physical object to jog his memory), Eddie is singled out as having a unique space in Buck’s life that no one else occupies. And of course there is this domestic quality and element of choosing each other as we see them repeatedly opening the door for and to get to the other one. ~~

But just think of the meaning! This man puppy, who only ever wanted to be loved and who’s being showered with attention and care, is absolutely restless because he’s having a hard time and feels like he has to pretend with the people he loves the most, and therefore he’s failing to fall asleep on his own couch. He seeks comfort in a connection that’s even deeper than the people who have been to see him, where he can really be himself without pretense. And that’s what’s insane, because he was visited among others by Maddie and Hen, his loving blood and adoptive big sisters. NO ONE can claim that his r/s with them is anything other than deep, and yet when he needed something more, when he needed an escape, when he needed a place where he could simply rest and be himself, he went to Eddie’s. This isn’t just Buck standing in Eddie’s kitchen declaring, “I’m not really a guest” in 311. This is him being more of a guest in his own apartment than in Eddie’s house. This is him being home and safe and able to JUST BE in Eddie’s space.

This is Buck beginning his healing by sleeping on the SAME couch where Eddie did in 514, connecting their healing in a parallel that is going to make me tear my own hair out. Which actually connects us back to 407, when Buddie talk about Buck’s need for his loft to be his safe space. Now it’s canon that this desired safe space is Eddie’s home, and I will chew through every piece of glass out there before I calm down from this. Once again, there are opposite sex canon couples on TV who never get this level of soulmate development! ~~

Oh, I also found it very interesting that Buck tells Maddie about his list he goes through every time he wakes up, to make sure he’s not in the coma world. We didn’t see him going through those steps when he woke up on Eddie’s couch. Remember how I said Eddie had to be absent in the dream world or Buck might not have made it out of there? Well, this ep adds to that. By virtue of being the only one who’s fully absent, it means Eddie is the one person whose very presence is a cue for Buck that he’s in the real world and safe, the only one who, by simply being there, negates the need for a list. I AM MELTING. (my gif, please excuse the awfulness) ~~

Speaking of soulmates bonding, I have to point out the opposite sex soulmates we do have in this very ep. Bobby confesses that Athena is it for him because she makes him feel like he’s standing on solid ground, she helps him be himself by finding again a piece of him.

We also see her becoming a part of his healing process when he allows her to come to his AA meeting. This is exactly what we see Buddie going through in 612! Eddie is Buck’s solid ground, the person he can count on and who can provide him with rest (that’s what solid ground represents), who allows him to simply be himself, and Eddie is also a part of the healing process that Buck allows him into by seeking out Eddie, and by opening up to him when Eddie asks him to, after finally getting some rest on the couch... ~~

That brings me to the couch because that in itself is just... Wow, this show really hates my nails and wants me to chew on them fully, I see how it is. Let’s not forget for how long the couch metaphor has been with us! Once Taylor and Buck discussed their couches situation when she was moving in with him in 513, and it was clear there was an incompatibility issue because she was bringing in a couch while he already had one (meaning they had already failed to communicate about this pretty basic point), it was clear they’d have to choose only one and dispose of the other. Very tellingly Taylor doesn’t really leave room for choice, so Buck (who only asked her to move in out of guilt) gave up his for hers. That’s the start of the couch being a metaphor for his romantic relationships, and I can’t believe it started a whole season before this ep! And then when Taylor moved out in 518, he was left with none? But that wasn’t unhinged enough for our show, so they brought it into an even greater focus with the lasagna scene in 601, when it was made even clearer that the “right couch” for Buck is about his romantic partner, that he’s aware of that significance, and that he admitted to it IN EDDIE’S PRESENCE. I can’t believe Buck fell asleep like that on Eddie’s couch, when they BOTH KNOW what the couch means. This is the most naked two men have ever been with each other on a TV show without taking their clothes off! Then Buck’s parents get him a couch he doesn’t want, one that’s all wrong for him, one he didn’t get to CHOOSE, so unsurprisingly he can’t sleep on it. That would have been a lot already, but then this ep turns around and SLAMS US IN THE FACE with Eddie’s couch being the right one for Buck to fall asleep on and to do so effortlessly! Two seconds on it, and Buck was out. That’s okay, 911, I just have to work a double shift while I’m sick today, I didn’t need to also have my sanity. You absolutely can have everything left of it. (my gif, please excuse it) ~~

I know it’ll sound dumb, but I was happy crying over the beers in Eddie’s fridge and the zoomed in shot we got of them. Look, it’s their thing, right? We’ve seen the two of them sipping on beers together in the iconic 309 kitchen scene (NGL, the oral sex scene in my Blue Against Blue fic was inspired by this), and it’s been a repeated theme, so when I saw Eddie had no less than 6 beers easily accessible in the top shelf of his fridge, chilling away, it screamed “This is my Buck stash” to me.

I will forever be a mess that Eddie Diaz, tough war veteran, actually has a supply of beers ready in his fridge for whenever soft man puppy Evan Buckley drops by unannounced. Can you imagine when Eddie goes grocery shopping and he probably smiles softly to himself when he buys his Buck beers? These two are so domestic and in love and equally soft about each other, it’s gross. And by gross I mean I love it, please gimme more. ~~

Oh, but the domesticity just keeps leveling up in this ep! Because then Buck wakes up and makes his way to the kitchen, where he just… lets Eddie take care of him by serving water. And it’s so tender and husbandy, and affectionate, and connects so perfectly to Eddie asking Buck to share with him. Because Buck wouldn’t let others fuss over him, but he lets his hubby take care of him. And he doesn’t tell others, even ones who are significant people in his life, where he’s really at, but he will share everything with Eddie. Not to mention that it doesn’t take much to get him to open up. All Eddie has to do is ask, and despite Buck’s initial announcement not to, he just goes right ahead and spills. I am inhaling and exhaling into the palms of my hands.

Of course, tucked in there is also Buck asking Eddie about the shooting. We all remember Buddie holding eye contact through that and Eddie reaching out to him, right? Or everything that transpired between them in the ambulance, all of it so romantically coded... This scene tells us that Eddie doesn’t remember those bits. I find it interesting to consider that maybe Eddie really doesn’t. That maybe the reason he hasn’t figured out yet how he feels for Buck is because he blanked out on the way he turned to Buck during the most intense moments of his life, and the ones he thought were his last. ~~

I mentioned during the hiatus in replies to asks I got that I suspected just like the distance between Buddie in 5a served to bring them closer together in 5b as Buck helped Eddie with his healing, the same structure was being followed in s6, just in the reverse, where Eddie will eventually help Buck. You can’t imagine how deep and meaningful I find it, that the show has actually structured these two seasons as counter paralleling each other, and showing Buddie as being a vital part of this mutual healing, so I tried to demonstrate that with this gifset. ~~

Last one! The cardiologist. Look, I already mentioned in my previous weekly meta that the heart theme started with Eddie, and then it was expanded to Buck. I find it insane that the show really hammered it home by having the same cardiologist be the doctor for both men, and that while she’s at it, she hints to both that their issues are not purely physical. How long before the metaphor-loving Buck catches on? IDK, but every single choice about this ep feels incredibly deliberate, when so much is condensed into so few scenes.

(my weekly meta posts) (my Buddie gifs) (all of my content)

~~ I can’t explain how much I’m asking of the amazing @whosoldherout​ for the gif requests, and the results are always so stunning, I’m deeply grateful!

~~ My tag list will follow in the reblog, please let me know if you wanna be added/removed here. Thank you in advance for any reblog and like! I’m sick and took three different medications to be semi-functional, so I really hope you’ll like this. Please don’t hesitate to let me know if you did! xoxox

[cinebration]

Only Ours (Geralt of Rivia x Reader) [Request]

Geralt x fem!reader. Old friends find each other again after many years apart. Used to be lovers or almost lovers (up to you) that parted ways due to circumstances out of their control. They still care for each other a great deal and reminisce about their past together and what could've been. Can end up together or not. Not looking for angst per se, more just wistful, bittersweet tone. Thank you!—Requested by anon

Warnings: none

Gif Source: lamberts

In all the taverns in all the world, you walked into the one Geralt had been forced to take refuge in to give Roach a rest and to escape the rain. He noticed you first—not because he saw you, but because your familiar scent constricted his chest and made his nostrils flare. Glancing up from under his damp hood, he tracked your movements across the tavern as you went up to the barkeep and slapped coins onto the bar, calling out an order of thighs and a flagon of ale.

The barkeep happily obliged.

Balancing your plate in one hand and clutching your flagon in the other, you surveyed the dearth of available tables.

Geralt tensed as your attention moved closer and closer to him. The pain in his chest tightened, made it hard to breathe. He desperately wanted you to notice him, while at the same time he wanted to hide.

He remained frozen.

Your gaze passed over him, then shifted back, recognition dawning instantly. A faint, tentative smile pulled on your lips as you slowly made your way over.

You looked better than he remembered. He didn’t understand how—you were no sorceress—but the fact remained you did. He pushed off the hood as you reached the table and set down your dishes, your eyes never leaving his.

“Geralt,” you murmured, surprise and hesitation in your mellifluous voice.

He murmured your name back, the sound of it sacred on his lips. He hadn’t spoken it since you last parted years before.

“It’s wonderful to see you,” you continued, your voice still soft, as though afraid to spook him like a deer. “How long has it been?”

“Eight years, give or take.” The rasp of his words sounded worse than usual, perhaps worse.

“Closer to nine, I think.”

And Geralt knew you had been counting, just like he had.

Staring down into his tankard, he watched the foam shift as the liquid sloshed underneath it. The din of the tavern faded to the background, all his attention arrested by your presence. The smell of you, the close proximity, made his head spin.

“You look good,” you said.

He chuffed a laugh. “For a right bastard.”

Chuckling, you bit into the chicken thigh, chewed as you scrutinized his face. He wondered what you saw there, anxiety sparking beneath his skin the longer you looked. Would you see the Butcher of Blaviken, the White Wolf? Or would you only see him, as you always had before?

“I hear stories of hard times for you.”

A chill slithered down his spine. “Still a mind reader, I see.”

“Your eyes don’t lie, Witcher.”

Grunting, he shrugged and covered his expression with a long swallow of his ale.

“Well, there’re stories of hard times for me, too,” you added when he set his tankard down. The momentary flicker of a haunted look in your eyes made his fist clench tighter around the tankard. “But I’ve no interest in recounting those and ruining the evening.”

“I’m told talking helps,” he noted dryly.

“Not here.” You gestured with your chin at the other patrons in the tavern. “Prying ears and all that.”

He nodded. “What do we talk about, then?”

A sly smile pulled at your lips. “Did you ever find that griffin?”

Snorting, he shook his head. “Low-hanging fruit, mind reader.”

“What? No reunion is complete without mention of the griffin!”

“Give it a rest.”

“So I take it you did not find it.”

“No, I did.”

You waited for an elaboration. The faintest smirk touched his mouth. “You didn’t take it out, I know that. I would’ve heard, what with that bard immortalizing you and whatnot.”

He remained silent, enjoying the agitation building up in you.

“Pfft. If I had to guess, you found it and got new scars for your trouble with no head for a prize.”

The smirk faltered.

“I knew it!”

“Mind reader,” he groused, but his eyes were bright with amusement.

“See, should’ve had me by your side for that. Maybe I would have taken its head while you gave it new meat to chew on.”

“Hardly. You would be lucky to snatch a few feathers.”

Clicking your tongue in disagreement, you countered, “No way am I doing that again.”

“How disappointing. I rather enjoyed watching you prance around.”

You laughed. “I bet you did!”

Geralt offered another chuffed laugh, feeling himself filling with the warmth of your presence and the brightness of your smile. Neither had he ever forgotten, but his memory didn’t compare to the flesh-and-blood vision before him.

“I’ve missed you,” you said, reading his mind once again.

He didn’t know how to answer that, the tightness in his chest making it hard to breathe, let along speak. You nodded as though you knew his response, however, and offered him a smile that threatened to shatter him.

“I shouldn’t have let you leave.”

You glanced up from your plate, then shrugged. “We didn’t have a choice, Geralt.”

“There’s always a choice.”

“Not an acceptable one.”

“Acceptable varies by degrees.”

“I know,” you whispered, staring down at your food. Shaking your head, you looked back up at him, regret fading into a rueful smile. “But it didn’t kill us, the separation.”

“Something died.”

Silence weighed heavy in the space between you.

You sighed quietly. “Things are what they are. I’ve accepted that.”

He grunted, not trusting his words.

“Still, sometimes I think about…I never did work up the nerve, did I?”

“Your nerve was never in question.”

“I’m not blaming you. I could have taken the initiative as much as you.”

“Fine,” he conceded. “We both were too afraid.”

You nodded, the rueful smile returning. “Funny how much that fear pales in comparison to the things we’ve seen in the last few years.”

Grunting again, he lifted his tankard and met your gaze. Lifting yours, you clinked the metal cups softly, the ringing sound of their meeting subdued.

“I’m surprised the bard doesn’t know the story,” you said after swallowing a sip of the ale. “Our story, if that’s what we can call it.”

“I didn’t tell him.”

“Why not? It’s exactly the kind of thing bards would kill to sing about.”

“Because it’s ours,” Geralt growled. “Only ours.”

[mcdonaldsnumberone]

BY ANY OTHER NAME!

kaiser wasn’t someone to ever beg for anything. no—if there was something he wanted, he got it. it was as easy as that. but much to his shock, your heart wasn’t something you would hand over to him willy-nilly. it looked like he was going to have to work from the very bottom: starting with his name.

gender neutral reader

Kaiser was used to netting all sorts of reactions from people. Some adored him faithfully. Some wanted nothing to do with him. Some were even bold enough to chew up their disgust and spit it distastefully in front of him. He never paid them any mind. But the truth of the matter was that Kaiser was used to drawing out all sorts of intense emotions from everyone around him. He didn’t care if they loved him or hated him. Mediocrity was not a reality for him.

At least, before he came across you.

You were probably the first and only person in the world to be so neutral towards him. You were kind, never causing any trouble, and doing everything you could to stay off of his radar. It wasn’t like you were going out of your way to avoid him or to catch his eye; you simply treated him as if he were just an average run-of-the-mill person.

You were polite. Not out of respect towards him but out of obligation.

And that would be all fun and dandy, had it not been for the fact that Kaiser had fallen madly in love with that apathetic, monotone attitude of yours. It was 100% because of how you approached him at an arm’s length. It frustrated him to all hell. It’d be one thing if you couldn’t stand the sight of his face and went around huffing and puffing about how you hated his smug attitude or egotistical personality, because then he’d know that he had some kind of influence on you.

But a nonchalant reaction that had him keeling over and overthinking every little thing he said towards you? Calling it pure torture for him would be an understatement.

“Lovely work today, Alexis. I made sure to leave an extra water bottle in the locker room since you asked,” you greeted the Bastard Munchen players as they left the playing field. The magenta-haired boy ducked his head gracefully, beaming at you as he bumped your outstretched fist.

“And you too, Benedict!” You offered the fair-haired player a bright smile and a matching fist bump. Grim murmured some dramatic monologue about the despair of warmth and its depravity, but from the way his eyes twinkled at seeing you, you assumed that he was just as happy to have your support.

“And finally, we have you, Erik!” You welcomed the foul-mouth midfielder. He pretended to scowl at you, but you quickly morphed his scorn into a rare smile when you nudged him gently with your arm. “C’mon, you made some impressive plays today! I can’t wait to see what you do in the upcoming games!”

Last but not least, the king of the pitch himself, the self-proclaimed protagonist of the theater that the soccer world was, Kaiser leisurely strolled off of the playing field. It made his stomach turn inside out with envy to see you bantering with his teammates so casually, but what really drove the jealousy home was something else altogether. With his nose held high and his sky blue eyes fixed on you, he stepped to where you were waiting for the team off to the side.

He knew it was foolish to get his hopes up, but he couldn’t help himself from going all out in each of the games he played in, especially when Kaiser knew that you’d be watching it in real time. Maybe, just maybe, if he went above and beyond what he normally did, you’d finally be amazed at his skills and come to your senses about what an irreplaceably talented striker he was. Then, you’d fall head over heels for him as all his admirers do…

He stopped in front of you with his signature smirk, hands stuffed in his pockets as he waited for you to shower him with praises. Well, he didn’t even need you to fall to your knees in utter worship of him; just your usual banter with the other Bastard Munchen athletes would have been more than enough to satisfy the lovestruck blond.

You didn’t skip a beat at shattering his fantasies. “Can I help you, Kaiser?” 

Kaiser choked back a cough, flicking part of his long hair back in order to mask the completely pathetic face he nearly made. “Darling! Is that all you have to say to someone who scored all the goals in today’s game?”

You tilted your head to the side. “Isn’t it your job to score though?”

God. It’d be one thing if you were saying these things simply to spite him, riling up his temper in order to get some kind of reaction out of him. But when he looked at your face, he couldn’t detect a single hint of malice on your features. You were doing what you were told: taking care of him. No more and no less.

This was the face of someone who did not care about him, whether that be positive or negative. You had no opinion on him. Period.

His heart sank to his stomach, but Kaiser kept up his cool front. He shrugged as he turned to you, a coy grin dancing on his face. “Still, it’s not an easy job. Wouldn’t hurt to get a little sweetness from you every now and then.”

You frowned slightly, as if you were thinking over his words. “I… think I’m doing an adequate job at taking care of you and the team. If you have any issues with my performance, then I appreciate you looking out for me. But that’s something you should take up with Noel Noa or Bastard Munchen’s greater management.”

Kaiser felt his body stiffen, his grin etched onto his stone face. He had braced himself to be shut down, but never before had someone shut him down so professionally.

“Oh, don’t be silly,” he purred. You surveyed him with your usual expressionless eyes as he came up next to you. Casually swinging an arm over your shoulders and dragging you close to him, he winked at you sweetly. “Your work has been nothing short of excellent.”

You put your hand on top of his arm, doing your best to nudge him off. Kaiser kept his Cheshire Cat-like smile, refusing to take himself off of you. You bit down on your tongue, wondering if you should stand your ground and yank him off of your shoulders, but you wisely decided that getting physical with a professional athlete was probably not a fight that was in your favor.

“Then I don’t see why we need to be talking. The locker rooms are to your right, Kaiser.” You avoided looking at him. It wasn’t like you were doing it knowingly, but Kaiser whimpered inwardly at the lack of your attention. It was like you weren’t even giving him the satisfaction of eye contact. 

He pouted like a little child. “See? It’s that right there.”

“It’s what right there?” You repeated. The confusion in your voice was so thick that it was nearly tangible, and Kaiser puffed his cheeks out. Normally he wouldn’t mind having his fun in flustering someone up: teasing them over their mistakes, flaunting himself as the superior one, and devouring all the delicious reactions he managed to milk out of them.

But trying to convince you to see eye-to-eye with him was downright embarrassing for him. Never before had he courted someone so oblivious, someone so downright unaware of his feelings, so casually cruel to the one-sided crush he was fostering. He couldn’t even get mad at you for your behavior too, because you genuinely didn’t know.

Kaiser hated groveling for scraps of your attention, but the boy was sick of being treated like a responsibility. Why did his teammates get to soak up all of your care and affection while he was left watching from the sidelines, licking his own emotional wounds while he could only imagine that it was you cheering him on after a game or complimenting his plays?

If this was the angle you were going to play at, then so be it. He was starved enough, and it was obvious that playing it cool wasn’t getting him anywhere.

He buried his face into the crook of your neck, sighing dramatically against your shoulder. You froze, your body noticeably stiffening up at the sudden gesture, and you dug your heels into the floor to prevent him from dragging more of himself onto you. Lucky for you, that was the most he did, but you gritted your teeth and refused to loosen up.

He must have lost his mind.

“You’re so cold to me,” he whined. “I know it’s not your job to baby me or anything, but… You’re so nice and sweet to everyone else. Even now! You complimented everyone after the game, and you smiled at them. You look so happy talking to them, but when you talk to me, it’s like you can’t wait to get me out of your hair.”

You sucked your lips in, and you kept your expression as unreadable as always. “I’m being professional. I don’t mean to do anything to spite you specifically, Kaiser-”

“-See, you’re doing it again!” His face shot up from your body. You knew you shouldn’t give him any more of your attention, but you almost instinctively turned your neck to look at him. You were shocked to see how wide his blue eyes were, his irises trembling. He looked nothing like the powerful and self-aggrandizing striker that you were so used to. All of his confidence and swagger had disappeared, leaving nothing more than a desperate boy clinging off of you. “You don’t even call me by name.”

You were at a loss for words. “I-I don’t know what to say.”

“I’m not asking for much, I promise,” he breathed. His voice sounded tentative, a hushed whisper that you could barely make out. “It’d be nice if you could banter and play around with me like you do everyone else, but god… At least say my name.”

He didn’t want anything else. He didn’t want to be known as anything else to you. Not as the New Generation World Eleven’s star striker. Not as Bastard Munchen’s number 10. Not as Kaiser.

But as Michael.

You swallowed back all the alarms going off in your head. There would be nothing good that could come from getting close to someone like him, someone who practically had everything in the palm of his hand, someone who would take your heart and mercilessly crush it under his heel if that was what he wanted to do, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to keep your usual cool level-headedness when he looked like he was on the brink of tears, a hair’s breadth away from your face.

How could you not crumble? That’d be too heartless, even for you.

“...I’ll try to do better. Thanks for letting me know. And I’m sorry you felt that way, Kai- Michael,” you corrected with an awkward cough. The light returned to his face right away, and before you could even finish your statement, his cheeks were rosy and full of life once more.

That was the first time you had said his name to his face. The literal choirs of Heaven couldn’t compare to how sweet your voice sounded to his ears, the syllables of his name rolling off your tongue like liquid gold. He didn’t care if he was being overly cheesy; he had dreamed of the very day that you would look him in the face and actually regard him like he was a human being.

You finally let your body relax, softening up just the slightest bit under his body weight, and you let out a breath you weren’t aware that you were holding. But before you could even fully relax, the blond was peering at you with another fox-like smile tugging at his lips. Undoubtedly with another scheme brewing in his mind, you wondered if you had made the wrong decision just now. Any hint of his previous remorse was gone, nowhere to be found.

“So…,” he trailed off, snickering to himself, “Now that we’re on a first-name basis, do you wanna pick out pet names for each other next?”

Your blood ran cold, and you thought about choking the striker for a split second. So much for feeling pity towards him. Loosening up was definitely the wrong decision.

But unfortunately, you had given him an inch, and Michael was determined to take the whole mile.

x

[andraxicated]

Pairings: blade x reader (prerequisite au) | jing yuan x reader Synopsis: You never knew coming to this world would tie you down there forever Tags: fake dating | fluff | stellaron hunter! reader | kith kith fall in love mwah a/n: I did this mini fic to cure my writer's block but it made it worse. blade's version of this will be completed soon!

~first meeting

You easily slipped into the Xianzhou within its state of unrest and its security that was too lax for Silver Wolf's standard. You walked through the streets, admiring the bustling nightlife and feeling a sense of melancholy washing over you. You're waltzing onto an unfamiliar land by having blind faith in Elio alone, basing your journey on his word.

There's an indefinite objective here. You're just wandering aimlessly amidst the sea of people. That was until someone grabbed your wrist, effectively pulling you back to be met with gold eyes and a smile.

"Found you"

"Jing Yuan?!" You whispered shocked, ready to fight or flight. It has already been made clear that you are not an enemy, they even let Blade and Kafka escape. So why is this man holding onto you?

"Before you do something, let me tell you that you are cleared of your charges and we acknowledge that the Stellaron Hunters pose no threat to us." Jing Yuan starts to speak, pulling you to the side to avoid inconvenience to the passerby. "I just want to talk."

It's ridiculous really. Sitting in front of the general and watching him chow on the noodles. Your own dish is waiting to be eaten but you can't help but be fascinated by the man in front of you. Taking your sweet time to glance over every detail of his—hair, eyes, lips, and body. You even took note of his gait on the way to this noodle shop that he recommended.

Sometimes the rumors are true.

"Are you gonna eat?"

You grimace, finding it uncomfortable that your forces were hostile to each other before but now he's acting like you've been friends for a long time.

"No. I don't know what this is." You glance at the food and lean towards him with narrowed eyes. "And maybe you're cohorts with the owner of this place and put some kind of substance to make me spill the truth about what I know."

"What do you know?" Jing Yuan doesn't seem to care and continues to feast on his meal. He momentarily looks at you before going back to his business.

"I don't know anything. I don't even know why I'm here." You lean back with an exasperated sigh. Truthfully, you're hungry and this dish seems utterly appetizing. You take the chopsticks and cautiously take a piece, chewing and waiting for some side effect to kick in but alas, nothing came. Only a burst of flavors that made your tummy protest for more.

"Is it good?"

You glare at the man in front of you, choosing not to speak and instead focusing on the steaming bowl. A smile stretches over his lips as he watches you eat, seemingly letting your guard down until you stop and raise an eyebrow at him. Jing Yuan only chuckles and shakes his head as both of you continue to bask in the silent dinner.

It lasted until he opened his mouth and let out the most ridiculous, out-of-this-planet proposal you've ever heard.

"Can you be my fiancée?"

Needless to say, you stared at him like he'd grown a head or two while his smile is kept on his lips, patiently waiting for your response to his question.

"No. Are you kidding yourself?" The only thing running through your mind was getting out of here after you're done and making him pay for it. He has to be fucked up in the head to suggest that to you of all people.

Jing Yuan puts down his utensils and stares at you ravaging the dish. In a few seconds or so, he successfully predicts you'd choke and watches you cough up your lungs, pushing the glass of water towards you which you hurriedly gulp.

"Now that you've calmed down. Let me speak." He sighed and leaned back. "This will be just pretend dating. I ask for your assistance in this matter and in return, you will benefit from this arrangement-"

"Wait. Stop right there" You point a finger at him accusingly. "How will I-"

Jing Yuan inwardly groans 'stubborn as ever'.

"Let me finish speaking, yes? The reason for this arrangement is that my parents have recently reached out to me about marriage. They have already selected some of the finest ladies in the Xianzhou but ultimately, they'd leave the choice up to me." He left out the asking for grandchildren part as he pours himself two cups of tea, one that slid over to you. You didn't need to know that conversation anyway.

You briefly look at your small reflection before tuning back to his words.

"I have a long life ahead of me and I don't think it's the time to be occupied with marriage. I have to think about that when my job as a general is done and everything is smoothly handed to Fu Xuan. Simply speaking, I don't want it right now."

"Look here general. I don't care about your sob story or whatever reason this is happening. Tell me what's my benefit in this or I'm leaving." You shrug.

Jing Yuan stayed silent for a few moments, studying your features with wandering eyes that lingered far too long for your liking.

He suddenly said something that rocked your world at its very foundation. The purpose of your visit falls right from his very lips.

"I know about you, I'll tell you about your past."

Your lips started quivering, eyebrows coming together, and mind scattering on how to know if this man in front of you is lying. Jing Yuan just dropped a bomb on you and this one could very well be a joke. But you don't think the poker face he's donning right now is a sign that he takes this lightly.

"Proof?" You whispered, silently hoping that he was telling the truth or you'd blow this place up in an instant.

"I have pictures"

"And?"

"You're there with me."

If Elio told you about staying, then you must have had a link to this planet and the long-life natives must have also known you before. Such as this one sitting in front of you.

Jing Yuan continues. "You also have scars all over your body. You wanna know why? Because it was almost destroyed from suffering a huge injury in a fight, but apparently, you got away." Your lips parted, unable to speak and you started to unconsciously touch your arm and move your thigh if it's still intact. "You were also once mara-struck, that's probably why you don't remember anything."

"Where did you get this information? From the jade abacus? Or from yourself?" You asked Jing Yuan even though you already know what his answer is gonna be.

"I'm afraid I'm gonna have to tell you that later at the end of our arrangement...So, what is your answer?"

This won't come easy as he's practically dangling a carrot in front of you. You suddenly stand up but the punchable smile stayed on the man's face. Turning to leave, you take one glance at him while you weigh your options.

This was encounter something Elio failed to mention but you never fully trusted that lunatic anyway. You finally gained a lead on your self-searching journey and you're gonna do whatever it takes even if it means forming a 'relationship' with a man you barely know.

"Tell me everything you know and I'll cooperate."

~falling in love

Jing Yuan doesn't exactly know when it all started. His heart just started beating faster when you were near and he felt empty when he couldn't see you for days. The grey-haired man longed for you to the point he'd have no motivation to function when you're not visiting him.

Did his feelings start years ago when you were still mentees?—he doesn't think it matters. But one thing is for sure, each moment spent with you in the past was deeply embedded in his heart no matter how hard he tried to bury it.

And this fake relationship thing fueled his feelings even further, he feels sick to be honest. If he said no to his parents then that'd be the end of it. Why did he even drag you in it? Maybe because it was a spur of the moment decision to find you and barge into your life.

"There's someone taking photos." Jing Yuan breaks the silence and immediately reaches for your stiff hand, not letting you go when you attempt to pull back.

"What? Who are they? Shouldn't we knock them out?' At your response, he looks at you like you said murder is okay. He sighs, suddenly interlacing your fingers together and swaying them as you look at it in horror. You think you were truly horrified that your heart started to pump a little faster and your dinner felt like rising.

"Let's act like this for the meantime until they go away. Most likely they're gonna sell the pictures for the newsletters. I'll put a notice for it to stop in the morning."

But the person doesn't stop following both of you, they think they're sneaky but your senses are on high alert the whole time. If not for Jing Yuan's hand, you would've pounced on the photographer already.

"What do you think will make them go away?" He asked and at this point, he was running out of options. Jing Yuan was a very patient man but he doesn't like someone tagging along on what's supposed to be time with you.

"Beating up works but I'll ruin your reputation so cross that off." You jokingly respond and he laughs. Your lips stretched into a small smile upon hearing him.

"I know now." He whispered near your ear and stopped you from walking, your back was facing the building where someone was lurking. And for a second, his golden eyes met the photographer's who deflated on the dangerous glint he showed.

Jing Yuan's hand snakes up to your waist, pulling you closer and stiffening your body.

"Hey!"

Your hands flew to his chest in an attempt to push back. You could very well push him, separate your bodies in this shared heat but you didn't. Frankly, you enjoyed the way he was touching you and this thought made your cheeks burn.

"Let's give them a show" Jing Yuan pulled you even closer and your hands on his chest were soon going to be squished. Where else could you put your hands other than around his shoulders? He smirked at your face, finding this ordeal amusing.

"What show?"

You thought the show he was talking about was dancing. You were in the perfect position for dancing.

"This"

But Jing Yuan had other plans and was thinking very differently from you. He leaned in so close that your eyes went wide and your breathing quickened. Puffs of air from his mouth lightly ghosted over your lips, leaving your body tingly as your mouths were inches away.

"Can I kiss you?"

His question passed by you in a daze but you nod your head anyways because it just felt right. The way his soft lips enclosed against yours, gliding and feeling the smooth expanse left him wanting more. More so that you feel yourself dipping back because of his harsh lip-locking.

Yet Jing Yuan feels kind of ticked, he pulled away and saw you open your eyes confused.

"Don't just stand there. Open your mouth." He ordered as he leaned in once again. You followed what he said, opening your mouth in a raunchy expression of affection that you soon find yourself losing to. He's very much glad that you began playing with his tongue too, feeling him smile against your kiss.

You never knew it was possible to feel a burst of emotions like that—like happiness.

[wehaveimagineshere]

Ren, I really hope you don't mind me sending in another request so soon but I've read Girl Dad like 7 times and I'm still craving. I want more. I want Carlos with his newborn. I want him taking care of his girls and making breakfast in bed and bringing his wife the baby for group cuddles and shit. I crave the domestic fluff. I will take anything you throw at me it's all too good. You're too good. I'm feverish for your writing rn. I have such a soft spot for badass couples being soft with their little baby so youve really given me a blessing. >◇< ilysm please keep well and stay happy <33333

I don't mind more requests at all! <3 I'm so happy you liked Girl Dad! Omgggg this is so cuuttteee I'm so happy I get to write something so sugary sweet!!!

Thank you so much for being so sweet, every time I read this I get all smiley! <3

~*~*~

You wake up to the smell of bacon.

Yawning wide, you turn your head to Carlos' side of the bed, a little confused to find it empty. Running a hand across the sheets, you're even more surprised to find them cold.

Reaching out to your plugged in phone on the bedside table, you squint as it lights up. Okay, not too early. But, wait, your daughter usually starts crying before now.

Bolting up, your feet are almost on the carpet before your muddled brain slots the puzzle pieces together. Carlos' side of the bed is cold. Maybe he heard her before you did and calmed her so she didn't wake you up.

Why didn't he come back?

Rubbing a hand across your face, the decision to check or not is made for you. You hear Carlos saying something a moment before he opens the door, a plate of food in each hand.

"She's not going to believe how you helped with breakfast this morning."

And your daughter swaddled across his chest, who kicks her feet and giggles when she spots you.

"Hey, what are you doing awake?" Crossing the bedroom, he sets a plate full of bacon on the bedside table and uses his now free hand to swat at your thighs. "Get back in bed."

"What?" you ask, brain still muddled, tucking your feet back under the blankets.

"Our little girl here decided she wanted to make you breakfast in bed this morning." When you're leaning comfortably against the pillows, he sets the other plate onto your lap. Sunny side up eggs with toast greets your eyes, and your tummy grumbles a moment later.

Your little girl gurgles, arms doing a little wave.

Producing a fork, Carlos hands it to you before looking down to your girl. "Right. We have more dishes for you. Want pancakes next? Fruit? Bagel?"

At the mention of the bagel, your little one babbles.

"I agree, bagel sounds good." Making his way back to the kitchen, he throws over his shoulder, "I'll make sure it has cream cheese on it."

Blinking in surprise, you give yourself a moment to process before picking up a piece of bread and dipping it into the egg. You're only three bites in before Carlos returns with more plates, and it's not until the bed is almost full with all the dishes you own that Carlos leans against the wall opposite you, holding a strawberry shaped teether for your daughter to chew.

"What did I do?" you ask, setting aside an empty plate to pick up another. "To deserve all this, I mean?"

"Aside from popping this one out into the world?" He does a little shake, prompting your girl to kick her feet and giggle. "Maybe I just wanted to pamper my queen, ever think of that?"

You give him a curious look but keep eating until your stomach is full to bursting. When you go to get up to put the dishes up, Carlos swats your legs and hustles everything out, baby giving her commentary the entire time.

Still wondering if maybe there's a catch, you watch as Carlos unswaddles your girl and slides into his spot next to you, setting your daughter on her belly on his chest.

You slide up against his side, your hand resting against your girl's back. Her sleepy eyes drift to you, a small smile turning up her chubby cheeks.

"She's had a full morning helping me out in the kitchen." Carlos' voice rumbles through his chest, making her yawn and close her eyes. "She told me exactly how you like your pancakes."

"Did she now?"

"She did. Was very particular about it. If I made a mistake, I'd get an earful." Pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, he adds, "Just like someone else I know."

"Oh, so it's my fault?"

"Yeah. I mean, genetics and all, right?"

"And what did she get from you, big guy?"

"My superior sense of humor."

Smiling wide, you slot your head between Carlos' shoulder and collarbone. From this angle, you can see your girl passed out, drool dribbling from her open mouth and onto your husband's shirt. Rubbing your thumb absentmindedly up and down her back, you ask Carlos, "So what's the plan now?"

"I dunno, I didn't think that far." A pause. "A nap?"

"A nap sounds good."

Squeezing you in a one armed hug, you hear Carlos hum in agreement. "Nap it is, then."

[boygiwrites]

Harley D. Dixon 35

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📖Chapter List.

Author's Note.

Cue my giddy snickering.

"So, what'd you do?" My Dad asks the prisoners, as we're eating breakfast in the courtyard the next morning. "Whose life you ruin?"

All the walker bodies have been dragged into a pile over by the dumpsters and burnt into nothing more than a few lumps of charcoal, leaving the courtyard as quiet as it's been since we got here. With the snarls and growls finally gone, I can hear birds chirping on the roofs of the cell blocks, the beautiful sound of silence beyond them. It might be the first time we've been completely sealed away from danger.

If Rick wasn't still inside with Lori, Carl, and the baby, I think he'd feel the same way.

"Nobody's but my own, man," Oscar chuckles dryly. He shakes his head, spooning some stewed corn and beans into his mouth, chewing absentmindedly. "There's nothing more to it than my people were poor as dirt. Got to be that I was dumb and desperate enough to steal from a Walmart. I should'a been handing my resume in, or something, but no. Sentenced three years over a pack of diapers."

I look up from my bowl to study the regret on his face, finding myself surprised. Shop-lifting diapers?

That wasn't what I thought he was in prison for at all.

"Sorry to hear that," Glenn says sympathetically, exactly my thoughts. "World wasn't exactly fair before all this, either."

"Me, I got caught with, y'know," Axel gestures vaguely, "Drugs and stuff. In my car. I was parked outside a police station, and I ain't had a home at the time. I think wanted to get locked up, if that makes sense. I'd been in and out a bunch of times. Only thing I knew."

"Sounds like someone I knew," Dad scoffs, and I know he's talking about my Uncle Merle. "The dumb bastard."

"So, you ain't, like," I frown at the prisoners in confusion, "Bad?"

Oscar laughs a little. "Not everybody who ends up in prison is bad, kid."

"I know that," I argue as I eat another spoonful of stew. "My Daddy was in prison, and he ain't bad. But some of 'em is."

"We ain't had the best track record when it comes to strangers," Maggie explains to them, putting it lightly. "Or even friends."

"Hey," He shrugs. "No offence taken. You gotta be careful out here."

"There were some seriously bad eggs in there, though," Axel agrees with me. "You bet'cha. Made life a livin' Hell for the rest of us."

Oscar looks at my Dad. "You're her Dad, right? You went to prison, too?"

"Arrendale State Prison," He nods, slurping up the stew in his bowl. "February of '04. I was released far before all this shit started."

"What crime?"

"Aggravated manslaughter."

Axel's eyes widen. "Damn, mister. I ain't sayin' you don't look the type, but I would'a thought you stole a car or somethin'."

Wiping his mouth, he smirks. "Who says I ain't did both?"

"Skills like those sound like they'd come in handy nowadays," Oscar says, "So, Hell. We ain't here to judge anyone in your group."

"You gotta stop saying, 'your group'," Maggie scolds him, smiling. "We got off on the wrong foot, but for all intents and purposes, there's only one group here. We ain't have to be best friends or anythin', and we'll be watchin' you, but you've proven yourselves."

"But I thought you said—...?"

Yesterday, we served 'em a death sentence by forcing them outta the gates — Today we're eating stew together. 

"Listen. There was a man named Shane," Glenn levels with them. "He was the first one. He was Rick's best friend for fifteen years and we all watched him go crazy without any power to stop it, until he tried kidnapping Harley. He was shot and beaten to death."

There's the loud, BANG, and the sound of my crying spilling out afterwards. That was one of the worst days of my life.

The prisoners share a glance with each other.

"The second man was Jim," He continues. "He didn't have the best interests of the group at heart and we kicked him out for that. And when we ran into him a few months later, we saw that hadn't changed. He threatened to ruin what we'd built. We hung him in a barn."

That one didn't make much sound at all — Barely a, snap.

"Your friends, Tomas and Andrew. And there were so many others. A group that took over a town near our old farm, people on the road, assholes, thieves. We've got good people here. We're family. But we haven't let our goodness make us idiots."

I'd almost forgotten the violence we'd committed over the past year, the deaths, a hundred little wounds scarred over with time.

Axel and Oscar remain silent as they stomach his words, the underlying threat there — We've killed better men for less.

Shane was Rick's right-hand man, a brother, and one of the most important people to the group, but even that couldn't save him in the end. Jim was a father, a resilient little weasel who worked harder than anybody else back at the quarry, and I saw him die, too. I saw all manner of men die. The prisoners risked their lives by leavin' this place, but they also risked them by comin' back to help us. They chose to do that. I'on know too much about what makes a trustworthy stranger, and I ain't even sure if such a thing exists, but I imagine it's a start. 

"Ya ain't idiots," Axel agrees, looking between Dad, Glenn, and Maggie with his honest eyes. "You can trust us."

Oscar puts on a reassuring smile. "We get it, man."

For two fellers who've just been threatened with torture and execution if they misbehave, they don't look so frightened.

I guess they don't plan on it, then.

"Good," Glenn slowly nods at their answers. "This is the best thing that's ever happened to you, by the way. You're welcome."

Axel's moustache skews to the side as he smiles. "Thank you, dudes."

"And it ain't just kiss-ass for a bowl of stew," Oscar warns us, gesturing with his spoon. "'Cause this shit tastes like ass."

"I'll let the chef know," Maggie jokes.

It looks like our group just got a little bit bigger.

"Go on, then." Dad juts his chin out in the direction of the cell block. "My guess is you ought'a get outta them scrubs if yer stayin'. Just ask for a lady, Carol — She can sort that out for ya. T-Dog's old stuff should fit ya, but I ain't so sure about Stringbean."

"'Stringbean'?" Axel complains, looking down at himself.

"Maybe you can find somethin' in Glenny's wardrobe," Maggie smiles, poking him in the ribs. "Ain't that right?"

"Hardy, har."

As they stand from the table with their empty bowls, Axel adds, "We really appreciate it. Thanks for not letting us die."

"Sure. Git," Dad grits, watching as they make their way back into the prison, before looking at me. "What'chu thinkin', chicken?"

Chewing my stew, I garble, "I gesh dey don't sheem sho bad."

"Nah, they don't," He agrees, reaching out with his spoon to clean the dribble off my chin. "You don't gotta worry about 'em, okay?"

I swallow as he pulls away, warning him, "But I'on think Mouse is a fan. He was growlin' at 'em."

"I'm sure they'll figure that out," Glenn reassures me, chuckling. "If that's the only problem they have, I'd say they got off lucky."

"Not if they screw this up, they won't," I exclaim, raising my spoon like a knife. "That happens, I'mma knife 'em in the knee!"

"Hey, and I'll let'cha," Dad jokes as he puts his hand over mine to lower the spoon. "But right now, I want'chu to finish all yer food."

"Okay, Dad."

Breakfast goes by slowly, like any good morning should.

The baby — Until the Grimes agree on a name, that's what I'll call her. The baby — loves to sleep.

I guess being born takes up just as much energy as giving birth, because Lori says until she's a few months old, this is all she'll do. I can't exactly play soccer with her right now, or even teach her to draw a picture, but I don't mind waiting. She's cute enough just like this, with her eyes closed, small tummy rising and falling with softs breaths as she dozes off in my arms, hopefully dreaming of something sweet.

What do babies dream of? Milk? Sheep, prancing in circles? They even got enough memories to form a nightmare, yet?

Watching on with a fond smile, Lori muses quietly, "I told you."

The baby makes a grunt, squirming around in the tightly swaddled blanket before she relaxes, content.

No. No nightmares.

Looking up at my Dad, I ask him, "Was I like this?"

A faint smirk tugs at his mouth, as if he's recalling a memory. "Nah, you was a fiend. Your Momma and I couldn't get'chu to sleep for nothin'. Had to pace around with you for hours on the porch just for a wink. Sing, hum. Let'chu listen to the rain, cars, birds."

"Sounds like she was a fussy one," Lori smiles, reaching out to stroke her thumb across the baby's smooth head.

"I ain't never met a baby who could pull an angry face quite like Harley could," He scoffs. "Had the temper of a stick of dynamite."

Under the weight of his tired gaze, Rick smirks a little. "So, not much has changed, then." 

Sticking my tongue out at them both, I look back down at the baby, gasping as her eyelids begin to flutter.

"She's openin' her eyes," I exclaim with excitement, handing her off to Lori. Her Momma should be the first thing she sees. Not me!

"Oh, my gosh," The woman breathes.

All at once, with her forehead wrinkled against the brightness of the room, she opens her eyes for the very first time. Green. Wow. They're the same colour as Lori's, dark and pretty like the wet leaves on a forest floor, staring curiously up at the matching pair.

Rick scoots closer and grins down at her, a chuckle escaping him as she studies his face next.

Even though I love my Mom and Dad more than anything in the world, and I wouldn't trade them for anybody else, I can still say with certainty that this baby is real lucky to have a Dad like Rick and even luckier to have a Mom like Lori. She got gentle hands, a voice made for telling fairytales, and the patience of a saint. Her smile is the type that nobody could be mad at when they're on the receivin' end of it.

My Gramma Dixon ain't had one of them smiles. In all the photos I've ever seen of her, she had a smile like a row of yellow piano keys, black holes left where her rotten teeth had fallen out from smoking so much and so often, but I had never seen it in person.

When my Dad was thirteen years old, the same age as Carl, the smoke of a stray cigarette caught onto his Momma's bedsheets while she was sleepin' and she, the house, and everything that was in it went up in flames, with a single black smear to prove it ever stood.

That's why whenever my Dad finishes a cigarette, he spends a second longer than anybody else would making sure it's out.

Glenn's got it right — World wasn't exactly fair before all this, either.

Havin' any Mom, let alone a Mom as good as Lori, was a special thing even before the world went to shit.

"She gon' love havin' you as her Momma," I smile to Lori.

And if you were my Momma, I'm too embarrassed to say, I'd be lucky, too.

As if I've just minced her heart between my fingers, the woman pouts, managing a smile. "Thank you, honey. That's nice of you to say."

I don't ever remember dreaming of milk or sheep or soft things with gentle colors, but I'm glad this baby will, even if just for now.

The sound of the toilet flushing fills my ears as I push past the stall door, approaching my Dad who's waiting for me by the sinks. He lifts me by the armpits onto the little plastic foot stool that Glenn found a few days ago, carefully setting me down on it.

"You sure I can't stay up just a little longer?" I ask as I tweak on the water, pumping soap into my hands.

"How much is, a little longer?"

"Hm... Five minutes?"

"I already let'chu finish yer card game with Carl and Beth," He reminds me. "My generous mood's run out, now. It's late, y'know."

"Okay, Captain Obvious," I sigh, scrubbing my hands together under the water before shutting it off.

"Watch it, Captain Smartass." He takes my hand and helps me jump off the stool, leading me through the door and down the corridor, before he randomly comes to a stop. As I turn around to face him, he crouches down to my level. "But I gotta talk to you first."

"About what?" I pout, worried I might be in trouble. "If Carl told you I cheated at cards, it ain't tru—"

"I ain't talkin' about that," He reassures me, raising his brows. "And you're lucky I ain't, 'cause I'on believe you for a second."

"Okay. Maybe I peeped at Beth's cards."

"Yeah. Maybe." With an empty chuckle, his expression slowly dampens, turning serious. "It's about Axel and Oscar."

"Huh?"

"I trust 'em," He begins, but I got no idea where he's goin' with this. "What I always saw in Shane and all the other douchebags like 'im, I'on see in them. Some folks, you can just tell. Axel's a sorry loser just like yer Daddy and Uncle Merle used to be, and Oscar's a Dad."

My Dad's what some people call, a good judge of character. Nodding along in agreement, I let him continue.

"If I thought they was any sorta threat to you," He promises, "Even if it was just breakin' yer favorite crayon, then—..."

"Then, you'd kill 'em," I finish, remembering the sight of his shadow swinging down on Jim's face through the slats of the shed wall, the big, black bag the paramedics wheeled outta the woods, the way Shane's blood pooled out across the dirty tiles. "I know."

"So, I guess this ain't really about them, 'cause they ain't gonna hurt you. It's about you, baby."

"M—Me?"

"You ain't in trouble." He says again, soothing my nerves. "I prolly should'a had this conversation wit'chu months ago, but you know I ain't so good with 'conversations', so it's happenin' now. I need you to know what happened with Shane weren't your fau—"

"Why are you sayin' that?" I cut him off, feeling like it's wrong for Shane's name to be in his mouth. "I d—"

"Just listen to me." He grabs my shoulders, stern and strong. Quips and hot venom brew on my tongue, but I bite it down, knowing that if I lash out, I'll actually be in trouble. I can't stop him from mentioning Shane, violating him even in that way, like he used to do with my Momma's name when he threw insults at her and told lies about her to strangers. I have to remember — Shane ain't my Momma. They was both sick, but only one loved me. I'm pretending to know which one that was. "It weren't. But we could'a done things differently."

Don't talk to strangers, He and Merle always told me. Is that what he means?

"I-I don't get it," I shake my head in confusion. "I'm allowed to talk to Axel and Oscar. They ain't strangers."

"Neither was Shane, baby." He counters. "Spent so much energy teachin' you not to trust assholes like Ronnie, I ain't never taught you not to trust assholes like Shane — Typa guy that makes it past yer doorstep and tries to be yer friend."

I temper my glare. "What'chu gettin' at, Daddy?"

"You know grown men can't be friends with little girls." He explains patiently, his grip on me tightening. "Rick and Glenn, they're different. They's like yer Uncles. Ya get along with 'em, but they're there to protect ya, just like I am. Axel and Oscar ain't like that. You ever meet anybody like 'em, you don't do anythin' that makes you uncomfortable. You don't give 'em anythin' they want. You don't let 'em trick ya."

Shane. I did all those things with Shane. He did all those things with me.

"And you always tell me if any of that happens. Always. Ya ain't never gon' get in trouble for what other people choose to do."

"The prisoners ain't tried to be my friend," I assure him. "And I ain't tried to be theirs. Promise."

"I know. I'm proud'a you for that." His grip loosens, fingers sliding down my arms, dropping in his lap. "But do you understand me?"

"I think so."

"I'mma somethin' better'un, I think."

Frowning, I think. Shane weren't my fault. Dad said that since the beginning. I guess he only wants to make sure it never happens again, like how it ain't yer fault if a dog bites ya, but you can always learn to recognize a violent animal and turn your back on its teeth.

I shouldn't have let Shane corner me in the car while the rest of the group was distracted in that supermarket.

Shouldn't have played into his stupid game, neither, by punching him in the face when he asked me to.

Definitely shouldn't have agreed to be his friend.

Dad's always gonna look out for me, but, "I understand."

"Okay. Good girl. Smart girl," He nods, standing and taking my hand in his, leading me down the corridor. "I love you, chicken."

"Love you, Daddy. But I thought you said I was allowed to knife 'em?"

"You can knife 'em first, and then I'll kill 'em," He jokes. "Deal?"

"Deal."

He chuckles to himself. "Let's get'chu to bed, then."

"Easy, boy," Axel smiles, scratching Mouse's ear as he watches him gobble up the meat in his hand. "There ya go."

From my seat nearby, as I wait to leave with Dad and Glenn for a supply run, I don't bother callin' Mouse over yet. The dog ain't my toy or nothin', but I should still share him with the prisoners. I know they ain't seen one in years, so I let him have the moment.

When Carl walks past me, I ask him, "You sure ya don't wanna come with us?"

"Thanks, but I'm sure. I'm just tired today," He turns to send me a smile, before continuing toward Axel. "Hey. Got more food."

"Oh, thanks, dude," He says happily, accepting it.

"He really likes this stuff."

It's taken almost a full month not only for Mouse to warm up to the new members of our group, but for the others, too.

We ain't best friends or nothin', like Maggie said, but it turns out they're a better fit for our family than I first thought.

Axel really is just a sorry loser with a good heart, who I've learnt over the past couple days wasn't kiddin' when he said he loved dogs. He's almost never more than a few feet away from Mouse, bribing him with treats or scraps of his own dinner, sometimes accidently calling him, Goober, the name of his old dog. When I look at him, I see all the other sorry losers we used to live with in our trailer park, his twangy accent and his stories of punking the police when he was younger weirdly comforting to me. Dad don't seem so offended by him, neither.

Oscar's the type of person who talks a lot around the dinner table, just like Carl and Maggie are. He's always got a snarky, good-natured joke to throw in here and there, or a reassuring tidbit to share when somebody opens up about something in their past.

When it comes to his own past, though, he suddenly ain't so much of a chatterbox no more.

I can only assume his wife and baby are among all the people we've lost, too. I wouldn't wanna talk about 'em, neither.

Rick watches Oscar standing there with a guarded look on his face, my Dad drawing his attention away by nudging his elbow, holding two guns out to him. With another glance at Axel, who's giggling like a small child at Mouse's enthusiasm for the food, he takes them.

"Axel. Oscar," Rick calls out, coming to a stop in front of them. As they look up at him, he offers a gun to each of them.

Axel's eyes widen as he stands up. "You serious, Mister?"

Oh — That's another thing. Axel doesn't call people Ma'am or Mister to butter 'em up. It's just his Southern manners.

"Daryl and Glenn are leaving for a few hours," He explains as Axel hesitantly reaches out for the gun, treating it more like a live grenade. For all the petty crimes he's committed, I'on think he's ever actually held a gun. Oscar takes his slightly more confidently, knowing exactly where to put his fingers, though he don't seem to like it. "With them gone, I think it's time you stepped up, helped us protect this place."

"Sure thing," Oscar nods, checking the mag is empty before stuffing the gun in his pants line. "Happy to, chief."

"Now, you mentioned you got experience," He reminds him, before turning to look expectantly at Axel.

In the silence that follows, the man offers, "I shot a slingshot, once. Busted in some rich old lady's Rolls-Royce window with it."

Rick's expression remains stoney. "A slingshot?"

"Yeah! Real cool one."

"A slingshot."

Awkwardly, he says again, "Yeah."

"Right." Rick gives him a friendly pat on the back, almost knocking him off balance. "We're gonna have to train you up a bit."

"Well, have fun," Glenn muses as he slings his backpack on, with Dad gesturing for me to stand up. "See you guys later."

Carl smiles, "See you later."

"C'mon, boy!" I call out to Mouse, clapping my hands. "Time to go."

"Remember, she doesn't handle the whole-wheat blend very well," Lori warns us, rocking baby Judith in her arms. It's good to finally see her outta bed again, to have her sitting around the breakfast table next to Herschel just like she always used to do.

"We'll look around for somethin' different this time. Trust me. I remember," Dad reassures her as he leads us up the concrete steps and pushes past the exit door, letting it close behind us before he mutters to me and Glenn, "She only threw up on my face twice."

"Eugh," I giggle, walking alongside them down the corridor. "That's gross."

"You ain't gonna talk to me about gross, missy," He jokes. "Who's that kid that spat chewed-up salami into my lap again, Rhee?"

Glenn chuckles at that. "Oh, yeah. I think her name was—...?"

"Somethin' beginin' with an, H, right?"

"Shut up," I giggle even harder as Glenn opens the main door, turning to lock it behind us. "It was an accident!"

"Ha—? Harriet," Dad pretends to struggle guessing, completely ignoring me. "Holly? Harley—?"

"Ohhh. Harley," Glenn exclaims as he stuffs the key back in his pocket. "That was it."

"Yeah, that's ringin' a bell."

"Shut up," I complain again, dragging him over to the gate. "C'mon. Me and Mouse wanna go!"

Agreeing, the dog lets out a, ruff.

This might only be the fourth time I've been on a scavenge this month, but I'd be lyin' if I said it ain't just as excitin' as the first time. Sure, the adults watch over me and Carl the whole time, and we only ever go to the same store, but everybody says we been doin' a good job and it's true. The worst thing that's happened to us is getting spooked by a rat running across our path, and even that was fun. 

"Okay, we're comin'," Dad chuckles raspily, letting me pull him along. "We're comin'."

"What do you wanna play this time, Harley?" Glenn asks.

As Dad opens the gate to the field, Mouse is the first one out, running ahead of us down the path.

I kick a pebble down the hill, thinking. "What about eye-spy?"

He locks it shut. "Didn't we do that one last time?"

"Yeah, but I lost," I argue as we follow after the dog.

"So, a re-match," Glenn says in understanding. "Sure. Who's going first?"

"Me!"

"Is it that leaf over there?"

"Nope."

"What about that leaf over there?"

"Still nope."

"That leaf?"

"You can't just guess every single leaf you see, Harley," Glenn chuckles. "The game would never end."

"So, it's not a leaf?"

"Not a leaf," He agrees. "Come on. You can do it."

Walking down the side of the highway, I look around for anything, Small and green. If it ain't leaves, or any of the hundreds of other things I've guessed so far, I'm screwed. In the distance, the tall sign for the strip mall pokes out from the trees, growing closer.

"Can't just look at what's in front of ya," Dad says helpfully, squeezing my hand. "Hunter's eye's gotta see everythin'."

Humming in concentration, I look down instead, noticing it instantly — The green beetle clinging to my shorts.

A giggle escapes me as I rest a finger near the insect's tiny head, letting it crawl onto me, holding it up to my face. "It was you!"

"Point for Harley," Glenn smiles as we step over the curb, entering the dumpster area behind the strip mall. The forest falls away behind us, making way for concrete and scattered litter. "You were taking so long; I was worried it was gonna fly away."

I turn a suspicious eye on my Dad. "Hang on. Did you let me win?"

"I might'a noticed it a couple minutes ago," He muses.

I flinch as the beetle's pearly wings whip out from under its shell, flickering into a blur, before it takes off into the trees.

"Aw." I pout, distracted by its disappearing shape as we approach the side of the building. "Bye, beetl—"

"Stop."

Stop?

Dad drops my hand. He slings his crossbow off his shoulder, training the sights ahead of us as Glenn grabs me, forcing me up against the wall with him. The warm brick presses against my back, Glenn's thick heartbeat thudding rhythmically beneath my fingers as I grip his wrist. I hold my breath. Suddenly, we're hiding — From what? From who? — and I couldn't care less that we didn't finish the game.

What's wrong, I desperately want to ask them, instead clinging tighter to Glenn, cowering, making myself small.

I try to get a glimpse of what's going on in the main parking lot, but I'm not close enough.

With his shoulders tensed and footsteps light, Dad creeps forward, peeking around the wall.

"It's okay," Glenn whispers to me, turning to scold a growling Mouse, "Shh, boy. Shh."

I focus on the nearby sounds — Someone's car engine idling, boots scraping against tarmac, hushed voices. People. It's people.

As Dad pulls back behind the wall, Glenn asks him, "How many?"

"I count three," He exhales, glancing down at me for a moment, before shaking his head. "We gotta go."

"Okay. Come on." Glenn gently tugs me by the hand, pulling me along with him in the direction we came. "It's okay."

"C'mon, chicken," Dad encourages.

We stick close to the wall, Dad scanning the back parking lot with a slow sweep of his sights, before giving us a nod, letting us know the way is clear and leading us down onto the tarmac. Everything opens up. My gaze darts from the dumpsters pressed up against the chain-link fence, to the trash littered across the ground, to the distant trees, the sky, the back of my Dad's head, Mouse at his heel. 

Dad takes one step back over the broken curb, his boot hitting the grass on the other side.

My fingers tighten around Glenn's as I lift my foot to do the same.

I'm taking a sigh of relief — The forest is right there. We can slip away — but the breath in my lungs is stolen from me. I stumble backwards into Glenn. A man shoots out from behind a rusted car, tackling my Dad, and a gasp escapes me, loud and sharp.

"Daddy!" I shriek, watching him tank the sudden impact with a grunt.

"Boys!" The man shouts over his shoulder. "Over here!"

Squeezing my hand, Glenn draws his gun, acting unsure if he should run with me or stay and fight. "Daryl?"

"Stay with Harley!" He orders.

We watch as Dad shoves the man off him in one powerful movement, sending his stocky body tumbling.

The man lands against the car door. The window cracks under his elbow, glass shattering, tinkling, falling at his feet. He groans like an animal, blood trickling down his forearm as he rears it back again, knife in his hand, about to stab Dad wherever he can.

Dad's crossbow comes down on the man's arm and the knife goes flying, clattering loudly across the parking lot.

"Fuck—" He cries, disarmed, before Dad takes a step back and — FWIP — unleashes a bolt into his face.

The man's legs give out, body slumping to the ground.

"What's going on back here?!" A voice shouts, footsteps approaching. "Eric?"

Glenn whips his gun around, shoving me behind him so fast; I only catch a glimpse of the — two? — men pouring into the parking lot before I'm pressing my face into the back of his shirt, squeezing his hand so tight I think I might break a few of his bones.

"Holy shit," One of the men exclaims as their footsteps come to a stop in front of us. "Eric! God, he's dead!"

"You'll be dead, too, if ya don't back the Hell up!" Dad barks at them, taking a step forward. "Back up!"

"You fucking killed him!"

"He attacked us first!" Glenn counters. "Put the guns down!"

"Oh, my God!"

"Who's that behind you?"

"Hey! You keep yer eyes on us and put'cher fuckin' guns down!"

The arguing, shouting, — Mouse's relentless barking — gets louder and louder with each second, ruminating into one big cloud of noise around me as I squeeze my eyes shut. I only wanted to help them scavenge some baby formula, enjoy the sun and the breeze, maybe win at eye-spy. Home is only a ten-minute walk from here. No, no, it wasn't supposed to go like this. It's never gone like this.

"Put that goddamn crossbow down!"

"I ain't doin' shit!"

"Everybody, shut up!"

The parking lot falls silent. I hear the footsteps of a third man approaching, slow and calm, like an angry teacher.

"They killed Eric," One of them exclaims. "We heard him shout for us."

"And this piece of shit here killed him. I saw it."

The footsteps slow to a stop, and no response comes. I wait for a gunshot or a punch to be thrown, but that doesn't come, neither.

After the pause has gone on too long, the man hesitates to ask, "Boss, what's wrong? Are we killing 'em, or not?"

"I said, shut up, Gavin."

Oh.

That voice.

Mer—?

No.

Merle is dead.

Merle was chained to roof and eaten by walkers and he's dead and he's gone and I mourned him and ghosts ain't real.

My movements in slow motion, I loosen my grip on Glenn's hand, my body going numb as I dare to peek out around his hip. As the scene reveals itself to me, a curtain pulled over a window inch by inch, everything hits me like a ton of bricks, years, names, memories.

The man standing at the front of the small crowd stares, gawking, at my Dad, unbothered by his confused friends.

When he glances down at me, his arm pointing the gun at us falters.

Our eyes lock, and suddenly ghosts are real.

I can feel myself start to cry, I think.

Merle.

Author's Note.

It's Merle! Is there anything more to say? He's back!

I'm going to have my work cut out for me in the coming chapters. Trauma, emotions. Here we come.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter, everyone. 💙

[gabzilla-z]

ok quick thoughts, spoilers behind the cut.

Pros:

Halle. HALLE. H a l l e. Her voice, her face, her mannerisms. They took what made Ariel special in the animated movie and built on it and she was the perfect person to pull it off.

Her beauty was distracting.

So glad they finally got a singer for a live action, I couldn’t take another B&B autotuned disaster.

Made me want to get to the nearest rock and play mermaid ngl.

I had my doubts with Jonah but he did a great job with Eric, played the shy, kinda awkward potato prince charming to perfection. Loved that they expanded his backstory and his interest in adventure and the sea. Also A+ for the movie knowing he had a white shirt on while surrounded by water and using every chance it had to drench him.

Eric still being caring and worried about Ariel even under Ursula’s spell? 10/10 no notes.

He came to chew bubblegum and be dreamy and he was all out of bubblegum.

Halle and Jonah’s chemistry was insane, I need them to do ten movies making eyes at each other.

Seriously the movie could have been 2 hours of them interacting in that library and it would have been money well spent.

or just two hours of them being cute smol and tol in a boat idc

TRUE LOVE INDEED

Can’t wait for this movie to be out in D+ so I can reblog all the gifs.

Part of Your World and all reprises were ofc gorgeous. Vanessa’s Trick is haunting and exactly what one would want for a siren song. For the First Time is gorgeous and underrated, felt very Broadway-esque. Eric’s song was corny but in a good way.

The rest of the songs are adequate but are not as good as the original ones.

Gotta said, song aside, the Kiss the Girl scene was more endearing in this version. When she helps him figure out her name?

Melissa was good as Ursula and made the character her own, though I think she was not as scary as she could have been. Better than I expected, though.

The actress that plays Vanessa knew she had 5 minutes to make an impression and used them to the fullest. Delightful.

Cons:

The CGI felt unfinished and so did the color grading/lighting. I edited all the movie images in this post (just played with the saturation and the contrast) and I’m mediocre at best. HIRE TUMBLR EDITORS, DISNEY.

Halle deserved to wear more outfits, I can't believe Disney missed an opportunity to sell more dolls. Would have given her a dress for each day on land and the water dress. Mouse, I thought you liked money.

we could have had it all

Wanted more of her sisters tbh. And less Triton, Javier phoned it in imo. I know Triton and Ariel’s relationship is an important part of the original movie but idk if it was his half assed acting or me wanting more of the sisters, but I wasn’t moved.

Flounder's weird character design was saved by his stellar voice actor and Sebastian grew on me, he was hilarious. Scuttlefina was tolerable but gosh she’s always playing the same character, stop casting her in everything.

Less I say about Scuttlebutt the better. Kids are probably gonna love it, though.

The ending was kinda weird? It felt rushed and the battle with Ursula was disappointing. Which is a surprise because the OTHER stormy scene at night was wonderfully done. 

Up to Ursula taking Ariel back to the ocean it felt really cohesive but the second Triton appears to save her it was like they were trying to speed things up and it got... weird.

Didn’t mind Ariel being the one that killed Ursula, after everything she put her through.

Cannot believe the movie robbed us of Jonah screaming “I lost her once, I’m not gonna lose her again!”

Overall it was a well paced (up to the finale), entertaining, charming movie. Despite its faults, the only Disney live action I want to rewatch (outside MAYBE Cinderella).

8/10 Justice for the foam dress.

[jacksprostate]

wip preview part 2 (part 1 here)

As it turns out, I'd never quite told anybody what Tyler looked like.

As it turns out, former Detective David Mills is not Tyler Durden. Cannot be Tyler Durden, because he’s living, breathing, real in everyone else’s eyes, not just mine. That I think he looks like Tyler Durden is not coincidence, but my brain retroactively applying his face onto Tyler's because, God says, I must finally be ready to face him.

I wasn’t punching myself. Tyler Not Tyler, next time I see him, will have a real bruise.

Which would usually be never, God says.

But you’re a special case, God says. A lot of people out there want progress.

We think this could be good for you.

And for Mr. Mills. He's recovering. He could use something to focus on.

It'll help his case, to work with you.

This is divine mandate.

That's something Mills has yet to be informed of, apparently.

Monday morning, I hear the archangels sing, they say, Mills hasn't responded to anything other than a direct order since he found out his wife died. Since he killed a man. One angel says to me as he spoons scrambled eggs onto my plate, you choose good men, sir. He's got conviction.

Conviction makes me think of explosives and a house following orders like a soggy bag of organs.

I think of Tyler Not Tyler with his everything-blond face and eyes like a fish rotting in the sun.

We pass each other in the hallway, led by our respective guard. I wonder if he even registers how gaunt I've become. Desiccated. If he can see how they've made me start swallowing Xanax again so I don't take up residence in his body cavity. I wonder if this is the result of brain damage. Nothing is quite the sight to see like the purpling imprint of my knuckles across the right side of his face.

When Mills speaks, I'm told it's been two weeks, and he finally responded to God's suggested experience by trying to flip the bolted down desk. I hear, Mills said no. He doesn't care about good behavior. He doesn't care about focusing. His wife is dead. If they cared about him at all, they'd put a bullet between his eyes. If he was any smarter, he would've left one bullet for himself.

Not the smartest thing to say when you're already committed.

This gets him a steady drip and a visit from two men.

The man who mops the halls, he tells me it's Mills' lawyer and the partner he had for a week on the case that sent him here. His first case in the big leagues.

You'd think after a year, they'd realize Tyler is dead and stop feeding me information. I wonder if they think this is a step in his return. Another chrysalis.

These men request to meet with me. I have never been allowed visitors. Not even Marla.

Marla hasn't called.

I'm brought to the visitation room, and Mills' lawyer might be there in the background, but it's his partner who's running the show. A black guy, old and wrinkled like a raisin in the sun. No cauliflower nose or stitches through his eyebrows.

Hi.

"Why Mills?"

Don't I get any small talk? If I wasn't on benzos, benzos, benzos, Detective, I'd be hurt. You're the first person I've been allowed to see from outside since I did what your boy wants to do and put a bullet in my brain.

He stares at me.

I smile. The cyst of flesh I've chewed away from the inside of my lip ensures it's always a bit pink.

He looks bored.

Ah.

A kindred spirit.

He made you care again, I say. That's why you're here.

Well.

Imagine, Detective. The only person to see how fucked the world is and want to do something about it, and you're told, even by him, it's all in your head.

And you rot in a psych ward for a year.

And then he walks through the door.

How would you react?

I'm my boss, proposing a hypothetical.

"Mills isn't your hallucination," he says.

Bullshit. So, everyone else can see him too.

"Mills had a wife, dogs, worked five years in homicide upstate before moving to the city a week ago. He is a real person."

In the flesh.

He repeats. "Why Mills?"

And on, and on, and my first ever visitation ends in a very dull stalemate where I visit Tyler's walking corpse in my ice cave as Tyler Not Tyler's detective partner tries to squeeze something other than the truth out of me.

I'm politely informed Detective Somerset has advised I not be involved in Mills' case due to potential violence and psychosexual obsession, and I laugh, because well-meaning men always assume God cares what they have to say. Assume their reasons are universally considered negative.

He's not caught on.

It gets made part of Mills' treatment plan, I'm told. With his little fit in the office, Mills confirmed I'm the only thing that'll shake him out of his walking coma. This is indirect for God saying if you don't do what he wants, he'll let St. Peter know to send you on down to hell the next chance he gets. As in, he'll testify against you. Heaven is a bit authoritarian.

Mills still doesn't care. We end up in a room together anyway. It seems God's smoking gun is at least as effective on his partner.

Amazing to think they've only known each other a week. But my guilt had me blowing up buildings, so I can't quite judge Somerset for his.

In this holy meeting ground of ours, I've got plenty of nice restraints on, handcuffs and ankle cuffs and a persistent level of sedation and a leash that leads right to the hand of an angel that's got a syringe with my name on it.

My remembered violence has been received well by half the guard. The other half seems rededicated to liquifying my brain.

Mills, across our long table, has nothing but his own angel on his shoulder.

Nothing in his eyes. Nothing in his face.

A changeover, but no one hooked up the second reel.

God speaks up from his seat of observation and says, "Mr. Mills, why don't you introduce yourself?"

No one's home.

"Mr. Mills. Introduce yourself."

"Mr. Mills."

I'm watching him like I'm trying to see the pollen grain movement of his very atoms, so I get to see when something starts to wake up in Tyler's stolen body. Olympic torch kind of hellfire, in his eyes. Still foggy. I wonder what they've got him on to keep him from chewing his veins out.

Deliver me.

"I don't need another crazy obsessed with me," he says, looking at God. Immediately physical, he's putting his arms on the desk, leaning forward, an automaton sprung to life.

Yeah, well. I say. I don't need another blond angel blowing up my condo and installing me as a cult leader all across the continent.

"Shut the fuck up," he mutters quick, and turns back to God. "This is bullshit. You can't make me do this. Just testify against me and send me to jail. I don't give a shit."

"Detective Somerset does," God says. "He wants you where you won't go and make someone shank you in two days."

Mills presses his hands against his head, squeezing. His hand over my bruise. I hope he feels it. He says, "I don't care what Somerset wants. I knew him for a week."

"Yet you're here because he asked you to be, David — can I call you David?"

Mills rolls his eyes. Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Tons of pretend niceties around here, isn't it something.

"Shut up," he says.

Hey, I say. Hey. Come on.

What more can I take from you? What's the harm?

It's not like I can kill your wife.

[givethemsmut]

Dom Mysterio x Reader

Chapter Fifteen | Where It All Started…

Dominik’s suspension had flown by. We spent half of it avoiding each other and the other half in bed. Somehow we resolved everything without resolving anything and I could be okay with that. We both made mistakes. If we could just stop sabotaging things we would be fine.

WWE didn’t stop calling or texting Dom. I wanted to be with him so badly I didn’t care what that looked like, if it meant I was involved or used as a pawn.

“Can we talk about it?” Dom was picking up shoes and doing some mini interview downtown that I tagged along to.

“There’s nothing to talk about. We aren’t using our personal lives as viewer bait.” He scuffed while snatching another pair of Nikes.

“But you can pretend to be other people’s boyfriends as viewer bait?” I retorted with my voice a little too loud when I realized people glanced over at me. Trailing behind him closely I whispered, “I want an excuse to go with you.”

“So I don’t fuck up again?” Twisting into me he purposely got so close it hurt just to breeze by me.

Still following his lead, “No, because I’m tired of being apart. I’m tired of hurting each other in general. I’m not going for a story line - you know I have zero interest in that shit. I did the living alone in our new house, missing you and masterbating to death thing. It’s old.”

Crowding me at the mere crude words, Dominik stepped into me until my back was against a poorly placed mirror. “Shhh. No one needs to know that. You can come but if I know my bosses they’re gonna hound us until we say yes. They want this storyline and you being on the road with me is a tease. They’ll never let it go.”

“Why are you so against it? What do they want from us?” I asked him, unsure of why he was so angry over nothing.

Looking down at me, I could feel his tense body against mine. I wasn’t showing yet but all of me felt more filled out. His fist pressed against the mirror as he leaned further in. “You would be with Randy. By his side. The whole point is to break Rhea and I up.”

“Can’t hide behind her forever, right?” I said it and regretted it. They were close beyond work partners, they were best friends and nothing would change that. Not my jealous or snarky attitude.

I had triggered him entirely when his mouth tightened and his eyes rested down into slants. “I’m not hiding. I’m protecting you. I’m not watching the replay of his hands on you.”

His words felt like gasoline to the fire my body felt. My entire body ached for him. “We can make the rules. It doesn’t have to be how they want. I just want to be there when you come to bed.”

“Don’t you remember how much you hated it last time?” He scolded, leaving me there to sulk while he cashed out.

Gaining composure I followed him, “We were kids. I didn’t hate it…”

Dom’s mouth was wide and his eyes matched. All of him trying not to laugh as he chewed his gum. “All day training, endless meetings, shows at night, and exhausted afterwards. When I got back to the bus every night I could tell how much you hated it.”

“It was like being at your parents but worse. We shared a bed, Dom, but we weren’t having sex. There was zero privacy with your dad there and because I was with you two I had all eyes on me. I was afraid to even be myself.” Taking the bags we left the store behind and headed for his car.

Opening the door for me I slipped inside when he leaned down, his face mere inches from mine, “Selective memory, huh? That tiny ass shower, walking in on each other. We had some privacy.”

“It’s not just that, Dom. I was a ghost and no one expected any different. I was invisible all day until you dragged yourself to bed where we’d fool around but nothing else because your dad was on the same bus. I didn’t want to be reduced to some shitty orgasms, I wanted to be someone you shared your world with.”

The car ride back home was silent and I forced myself to look out the windows. I spent three weeks on the road with Dom and his dad before Dom was even signed with WWE. He was still training but they used him for storylines and Dom got to keep his dad company.

It was torture. I spent my days bored, my nights unbearable without touching Dom, and everything in-between had his dad close by. Enough to behave.

I didn’t want to repeat that, I just wanted to be close by Dom while I was pregnant.

“That’s bullshit. I was busy but you weren’t reduced to a fucking orgasm. We had plenty of firsts on the bus. Plenty… When you came on the road that was the first time we got drunk and fucked..” Behind the wheel, his hand found my inner thigh and gave it a squeeze.

“That was not the first time we got drunk…” my knees fell in his direction and I felt him hand only slid further up my thigh.

His cheeky smile couldn’t have had a better effect when he flashed his pearly whites at me. “No, but it was first time we fucked drunk, babe.”

[ flashback ]

Everyday felt like groundhogs day. Only I became more invisible as time went on. 

From the moment we woke up Dom would train, rehearse, do media, have meetings, and do a show. I would be left to my own devices, making friends with the crew or exploring outside the venue until I got restless. 

Every night Dom would crawl into the bed we shared, expecting me to want him when nothing had changed. I was still sabotaging every reason or feeling pointing to him. I still kept telling him we couldn’t and he would get frustrated enough to hate me each night I said no.

It wasn’t until I was venturing the venue I realized my backstage pass eliminated anyone asking me for ID when I added an alcoholic beverage to my order of fries. Dom and I were twenty, close of enough and had gotten drunk plenty of times while his parents were gone. Something felt especially dangerous about being invisible and drunk.

Not realizing how quickly I was slurping these drinks down I headed back to the dressing rooms, trying to find Dom before I missed bus call. Pushing the door open I saw a few wrestlers spread out and Dom getting undressed himself. “How did it go?” I said while sitting down on the bench behind him.

Looking around he almost panicked, “You can’t be in here. What are you doing?”

Granted it was the guys locker room but we were all adults. They all knew I was here for Dom. Standing up I felt my legs doing what they were suppose to but the floor kept moving, like an earthquake. “Okay, I’ll just go to the bus.”

His hand wrapped around my arm and pulled me back to his locked. Crowding me, almost hiding me, his low voice whispered, “Are you drunk?”

Laughing I responded, “Not yet.”

His hand smoothed down my back, stabilizing me, and cupping my ass like he knew I couldn’t stop. “Let’s get drunk and fuck… I have nothing tomorrow. No work. I miss you. I crawl into bed and miss you when you’re right here. I need you.”

His face was so close to mine I could feel his hot breath tickle my lips. Everything around us seemed to disappear and I didn’t care who was around to witness our tug of war of a relationship. 

“We share a bus with your dad…” I whispered so lightly it felt like a mistake as the words came out.

Dom’s lips brushed mine, pinning against his locker, and his hands trialing up my body. His hands stopped once he got to my breasts, hesitant, suddenly unfamiliar. We had been living in Miami on our own but we had given up teasing each other the way we did in high school. 

“I don’t care who sees or hears. I fucking need you. Every night for the past month I’ve been begging you to let me touch you… every night you say no. Sharing a bed with you in torture. I can feel you against me every night in barely fucking anything.” His voice shook, his hands shook, and his eyes begged me to understand. Dom was hurting for it and I was reason.

“It’s that bad?” I asked knowing the answer. My nipples responded the exact way he wanted when his hand squeezed my tits. 

“It’s you or someone else, mi amore.” He said sternly, clearly tired of our games.

My hands against his chest, I pushed him away, “Or someone else? Are you serious?”

“I’m not jacking off again. I fucking can’t. I need pussy. There’s a local bar, we’re all going to blow off steam and almost everyone is off tomorrow. I’ll meet you at the bus in half hour. I gotta shower.”

I could feel the buzz wearing off when I left the locker room only to bump into Randy. “Shit. You scared me.”

Smiling down at me from his staggering height and insane muscles he stopped, looking over his shoulder. “You going to the bar?”

“If Dom does.” 

“That’s your problem, you do everything for Dom. Is he doing enough for you?” Randy only paused for a second before heading into the locker room, not waiting for a response.

I went back to the bus, riffling through my suitcase to find a little black mini dress and some cute heels to wear. I could see Dom heading towards me in his off white shirt, black joggers and Vans looking sexier than I was prepared for. 

“Mi amore. You ain’t gonna take it easy on me at all.” Opening the bus door he pushed his back inside and put his arm around my shoulders before guiding us to some rental car. Slipping inside the back, someone else was driving, someone I didn’t know. 

The bar was busy, almost crowded, and the music was the perfect mix of 2000s and 90s. Waiting for our drinks next to the bar, Dom pressed himself against me, his hand on my waistline. Whispering into the shelf of my ear, “Are you going to let me fuck you or am I looking for someone else?”

It was crude, stern and I could feel his muscles etch into stone while he asked. He was hurting and now of that changed that I didn’t want to date. I couldn’t have us fail and lose him so it was easier to reject him.

“Dom…” 

“So you got all sexy for someone else? Cool. Don’t be mad later. Text me when you leave.” Grabbing his beer from behind me I wanted to explain but he didn’t give me the chance. 

I don’t know when Randy walked in or how long he was standing behind me when I twisted around hoping it was Dom again. “You know-” I cut myself off realizing it wasn’t him at all. “Sorry, thought you were Dom.”

“For you? I could be.” His crotch brushed my ass making me stand up straighter. “Is that all it takes to get you into bed? You’re too beautiful for such low standards.”

“Real smooth. Sorry if I don’t faint or spread my legs. I’ve been dealing with guys like you since fourth grade when my boobs came in.” I shoot back down the rest of my mixed drink.

Even more pressed against my back, his head dropped, speaking into my neck after pushing my hair away. “I’m not Dom, babe. I’m not begging. If I want something I take it. Look around, sweetheart, he’s moved on and you’re the one sulking at the bar alone.”

Twisting around to face him I glanced around the bar to see Dom flirting with some blonde. She was laughing and touching his arms. “It’s complicated.”

“You want him but keep rejecting him. He wants you and keeps begging. Sounds pretty simple. Do you want my help or not?”

I shook my head up and down ignoring the wedding band on his finger. 

“Order another drink. Relax. I’m gonna stand next to you like this and I’m gonna touch you, let me. He’s gonna notice and get jealous.” Randy’s hand smoothed down my ass, cupping and grabbing.

“Childs play. We tortured each other in high school with other people.” I sipped on my drink trying to imagine it was Dom instead. 

“Are you wearing panties?” He asked and I looked at him wildly like whatever he was about to say crossed some invisible line. “Sit down. Let me take them off, I’m gonna put them in my pocket.”

I down my drink and the shots Randy order, facing Dom flirting with some random girl I didn’t know. She straddled his lap and Dom let her. He wasn’t even looking in my direction. 

Pushing Randy aside I strutted over to him pissed off and drunk. “What are you doing. We sleep in the same bed every night and now you’re letting some slut violate your lap?”

Licking his lips he whispered to the petite blonde before saying loud enough to hear. “Let me handle this.” Following Dom to a quieter part of the bar he pinned me against the wall, his fists balled up and boxing me in.

“I told you. I need pussy. Don’t act like Randy wasn’t just touching your ass, Mami. Don’t act innocent.”

Pushing my hands against his chest, he didn’t move, smirking at me. “Fuck you.”

“Happily babe. I’d fuck that tight little pussy anytime,” his husky voice hit me harder than any amount of liquor. 

“You know we can’t.” I begged, exhausted and drunk all over again. “You think it’s not hard for me? The texts, the photos, watching you wrestle every night? It’s torture but I can’t ruin our friendship.”

“Years of avoiding us. Years of telling me we can’t even when we fucking do. What’s the point? Liv wants me. I don’t have to beg.” Lingering before walking away I felt every part of me hate him. Dom was cruel without having to be cruel and tonight was different. He meant it.

I watched Dom get drunk and handsy with Liv until it was unbearable. I knew I had to play the same game.

I stood between Randy’s legs letting his hands defile me in way I only wanted Dom to. Kissing my neck I giggled at how much it tickled while I watched Liv slowly convince him to go home with her.

This time felt different. We weren’t hurting each other but actually being selfish. Dom had needs and he wasn’t going to argue with me about it.

Forced to watch from afar I decided maybe this was the time to actually move on, stop playing games, stop waiting for me to stop being scared.

Feeling tipsy board-line drunk I couldn’t drink another sip of liquor when I watched Liv’s hand trail down his abs.

I mumbled to myself before letting Randy’s hand smooth up my thigh until it felt wrong. Nothing about Randy felt right.

“Just ignore them. Let’s get out of here…” My eyes kept glancing at Dominik and Liv pawing at each other like they were in heat when I couldn’t find Dom without putting my head on a swivel.

Appearing like I had summoned him with his arms crossed and a devilish scold. “Can I speak to you in private?”

Pushing Randy’s hands off of me I stood up and followed Dom, excusing myself quietly. Dom’s eyes bore into me until I felt like whatever disappointed speech he was about to give wasn’t even necessary anymore. By the bathrooms, the only quiet and private spot I waited for his cruelty.

“Are you fucking serious? Randy? Maybe you two belong together after all, you run to him every time.” Dom’s voice was ice cold when it skated down my spine.

I was too shocked to say anything. I couldn’t argue, if it wasn’t Dom somehow Randy was there to pick up the broken pieces. It wasn’t on purpose, not by me at least. “Why did you stomp over here, Dom? You don’t have to beg her, remember?”

His body was so close to mine I felt my chest labor every new breath. His eyes looked me over and hie tongue swiped along his bottom lip. “I know what you’re trying to do. You never had a hard time making me jealous. He’s not me, mi amore, he’s not gonna let wait for you to finally give it up.”

“Maybe I won’t make him,” I retorted.

I watched Dom’s hands ball up into fists and his mouth got tight. “You’re a fucking bitch. We’ve had sex, sweetheart, I know every fucking turn on because I gave them to you. I know when you’re about to come you close your eyes and bite your lip because we had to be quiet in my parent’s house. I know you like it from the back most because that’s how you fucked that toy when you wouldn’t fuck me. I know every scar you forgot how you got. I know every freckle. I know you’re ticklish on the inside of your right thigh, that you liked your nipples pinched not sucked, and you prefer my cock without a condom because it feels better. I fucking know you. We’ve had sex enough to know what we like. Why do you make this difficult?”

“Because I’ll hurt you eventually and I’ll lose you. I can’t lose you.” I pushed my hands against his chest, ready to run away again.

“Don’t make me do something I regret. Don’t make me fuck her because you won’t. I’m hurting, baby. I can’t sleep next you and not touch you anymore.” Dom voice shook and his eyes fell to the floor. Dom was really ever even hurt but the way his hands were shaking felt too real.

“I can feel your heart racing,” my palm laid even flatter. “Let’s go sit down, come with me.” I felt bad already but Dom was hurting in a way that was my fault without me realizing it. I should have found a new bed to sleep in, I should have had boundaries, anything to stop torturing him.

A dark corner of booths were vacant when I pushed Dom subtly to sit down. Climbing onto his lap I straddled him. “No one will see.”

His head rolled back and his knuckles swiped his nose. “Fuck. No, baby, I don’t want some quick fuck like you’re some rat. I wanna fucking touch you. I wanna see what’s under this dress. Fuck, I wanna taste you. You aren’t some cheap fuck.”

“Please, Dominik. You’re hurting, I’m gonna help.” Rolling my hips so lightly I tried to keep my breathing steady.

His eyes went wide and I watched him shift under me, creating space. “Wow. A pity fuck. I’m not drunk enough for that.” He exhaled a long drawn out breath before pushing me down beside him.

I felt defeated, stuck, trying to not ruin our friendship had became my sole focus and right now I hated it. I abandoned Randy, paid the bar tab and took an Uber back to the bus. Dom’s parents were big wine drinkers and his dad was fast asleep when I snagged the rest of his open bottle. Getting comfortable in our giant bed at the back of the bus I rewatched a show I had seen too many times to count.

Each glass of wine only made me more paranoid. I was checking socials, jumping at every sound, and praying he didn’t fuck her the way I knew he needed. The unmistakable sound of the bus door opened and closing forced me still, as still as I could be drunker than I was at the bar. Wine hit me more than any mixed drink did.

I didn’t bother to look sober when Dominik came through the bedroom door. Walking to his side I didn’t dare look but I could hear him getting undressed. I wanted to look so badly, it felt like it had been days since I’d seen Dom shirtless.

Laughing and struggling with his pants I realized he was as drunk as I was but yet I kept my eyes forward.

“How about that pity fuck now, baby?” In just a shirt and pair of boxer briefs he forced me to look at him.

“Dom… I was just trying to protect myself. It wasn’t a pity fuck, how is riding you in public pity?” The wine hit me even hard with every word as I shifted to sit up higher, closer to him standing at the edge.

“It was cheap, you didn’t want me to see you or touch you. Fuck, you didn’t even want it. I can’t fuck you like that, you aren’t some rat.” Taking off his shirt I took in every tattoo, every muscle, every way he was perfect.

“We're both drunk and your dad is sleeping in a bunk. I can get a hotel if the bed is a problem. I don’t want to torture you.” On my knees in the middle of the bed in his shirt and a thong I almost whimpered at the logic. I wanted to be reckless. I wanted to fuck Dom until I couldn’t anymore. I just couldn’t break his heart in the process.

“You’re sitting here in my shirt and a fucking thong, putting my feelings first when we both know you’re just as turned on as I am. You’re fucking made for me. I need you to take off those panties, mi amore.” Kneeling on the bed his mouth found mine and I couldn’t help kiss back. Dom’s warm tongue rolled against mine and I whimpered.

His fingers laced with the thin band of my thong, dragging it down my legs and tossing them to the side before stumbling back down to me. “Shhh, your dad.”

Dragging me down to the edge he stepped off enough to push his designer box briefs off. “I don’t care who hears as long as it’s my name you’re saying. Everyone knows we’re in love, you just refuse to admit it.”

My shirt lifted up while Dom’s hands cupped my tits. He said what I refused to, all in one sentence, not three words. “Dom,” I whimpered when he looked down between my legs.

“I know, it’s just a pity fuck so I don’t have to fuck my hand.”

On my knees I dragged him down as he sloppily fell on the bed. Straddling him again I looked down at him, still wearing his cross, looking up at me like I already broke his heart.

Sitting up I waited for him to guide himself inside me when I whispered, “Promise this doesn’t change anything?”

I sat down slowly, every inch stretching me out and sobering me. I moaned out the second our bodies were flush and every inch was buried inside me. 

“Why would it?” The disdain on his face was hard to ignore. None of this was going to be a good memory. “Nothing ever changes between us.”

Rolling my hips softly I felt his hands travel up the front of my shirt, squeezing gently. 

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. I ruined it with feelings.” I stilled over him, not moving an inch when he fell back down to the bed, exhaling in this annoyed way.

Under me I watched him grow more and more unforgiving. “I left the bar alone. I pushed Liv away. I came home to you like I always do.” Pushing me off his lap he b-lined it to my cup of wine before continuing. “Like a good little boy. I’m always thinking of us when you don’t even want to be an us.”

“We are an us - just a different kind of us. Every time we fuck you pressure me into feeling guilty about not wanting to add feelings into the equation.” I was pleading with Dom to keep it simple: just sex. 

Sitting on my side of the bed he poured me a glass and drank straight from the bottle. “Because it’s never gonna be just fucking for me. I’ve had girlfriends and I’ve had sex, none of them are what happens between us.”

Taking another sip I wrapped my arms around him from behind, my body pressed against his back. “That’s why I avoid it, I keep saying no. Torture is easier.”

With my chin on his shoulder I looked down at his body and wished I was someone else. Someone who wasn’t broken the way I was. Taking my wine I pulled away from him, laying down and ignoring the still playing television on the wall. Instead I scrolled through socials. 

Without even trying I had drank my entire oversized glass of wine and scrolled to a video of Dom and Liv making out in a dark bar. I watched it more than a dozen times before Dom got my attention. “I’m gonna get some air. I’ll be back in an hour.”

Sitting up, more drunk, I asked him. “Are you going to fuck Liv?” The video was still looping on my screen in my hand. 

He stopped getting dressed and turned around to face me. “Do you want me to lie or tell the truth?”

“Lie,” my lip shook and I got up on my knees like his answer had power over me. 

“I’m getting some air. I’ll be back, you don’t have to wait up.” Dom looked me in the eye and I felt my heart panic. 

Taking off the only item of clothing, his shirt, off I sat back down on my heels. “Tell me the truth, Dom.”

Pulling down his shirt he stood there in front of the bed in the small room taking up the end of the bus. “Liv texted me. I’m gonna go over to her hotel room.”

“And fuck her because I ruined it.” 

Closing his eyes just a little long then needed as he paused. “You don’t get it, I’ve never needed pussy the way I do right now. I don’t know if it’s being pushed up against you at night, finding your fucking toy, I don’t know. All I know is I’m losing it. I can’t think straight. I can’t fucking rehearse or train. I can’t fucking sleep next you. I need pussy.”

“Don’t go. Don’t fuck her.” I pleaded with my hands clutching onto his shirt and pulling him closer.

Our mouths collided and our tongues immediately found heaven inside each other’s mouths. “Take these off. Take it all off.”

Dom pulled his shirt off effortlessly before pushing me back on the bed. Our mouths found each other again while my legs wrapped around him.

My hands pulled on the waistband of his joggers forcing him to push them down between our bodies. I forgot we weren’t alone when I moaned at loud at his knuckles brushing my clit while he lined himself up.

Dom was so hard it felt all too much when he pushed inside me. Every husky breath fell on my chest cause my back to arch for him. I always wanted Dom but this time felt rushed, no long let desire but a need. 

Dom’s thrusts were punishing, hard and pausing at the end just long enough to torture me back. “Jesus. Fucking. How can you feel this good.”

His phone on the nightstand buzzed and buzzed until he rolled his eyes and reached for his phone. Switching positions I sat on his lap while he laid against the pillows. Riding him, I rolled my hips and arched my back forcing my tits in his face when he answered. 

His finger over his mouth he silently told me to not moan even though his voice sounded labored at hello. 

I couldn’t hear it until he put it on speaker and dropped in on the pillow next to him. Relaxing more, he laid back, his hands working my tits. 

“Are you still coming? I’m wearing something you’ll love taking off of me..” the girly voice was easy to name. Liv.

Grabbing my hips, Dom forced me to pick up the pace when he hurried his face in my neck. We were both breathing heavily and the moans we were hiding wasn’t working. 

“I’m a little busy right now… Fuck… just like that baby.” Placing my hand over his mouth I muffled his moans. 

“You’re fucking that bitch? Are you serious?”

She started talking but Dom ended the call before I could register any real thoughts. All I could focus on was Dom jerking inside me and my legs shaking. 

Whispering against my lips, “Let me come inside you.”

I let him, just like I did before. There was something about the way he held onto me when he groaned his way to his orgasm that I couldn’t say no to. His arms around my waist he held me still, groaning into my chest, before he came inside me. 

He knew I loved him; he just didn’t know why I couldn’t.

“First time I realized we would always have separate lives to some degree.” I choked out knowing it was true. I would always be a guest when it came to his work and he would feel like a guest in our lives at home. There was no winning. No amount of me being by his side was going to change that fact.

“What does that mean?” I could feel his wrinkled brows glance at me with his hand strangled the steering wheel of his BMW.

I fixed my eyes out the window, “I’ll never be apart of that part of your life. Work takes up more of your life than anything else and I’m forced to piece it together Monday nights. I didn’t even know you were going to carry on some fake relationship with Rhea. I’m stuck at home watching.”

Starring at me instead of the road he snickered, “And I don’t feel the same about you being home? Getting to live the life I want to be living with you? You went on the road and hated it. Now they want you to partner with Randy and suddenly you want to travel with me?”

“Fuck you. This has nothing to do with him.” I argued. I couldn’t say I need to be there so you don’t cheat. That was only part of the reason, really.

The rest of the drive was quiet, so silent it almost felt heavy and when he pulled into the driveway I barely waited for him to turn the car off before I headed inside.

Last time I was on the road was torture and I was willing to give it another shot for our relationship. We weren’t kids, we couldn’t get drunk and fuck our problems away.

[satancopilotsmytardis]

Hey I need to yell at you about Pack Play

First I wanna mention doppelgänger twice. I like him. He's basically the same as canon but I like him. Anyway, 

Once again your world building shines. Mating houses, what some wolves think of chew toys, the logistics of a rut room—love it love it love it

I know these two are probably a shade less platonic than a different pack would be, but I LOVE that the grooming and shared cycles ARE considered platonic. 

"Maybe, but you're my pack, And I take care of you." Delicious

The chuffing, dabi showing his stomach, shig nipping his throat, dabi WAITING FOR PERMISSION TO KEEP USING THE TOY!!! All the inhuman cues that show Dabi's submission are making me insane

And thinking about it from Shigs perspective??? The pretty, prickly alpha that probably challenged him at their first meeting now wants to be used so badly that he fucking goes limp???? And even better, it's because he trusts him?? 🥴🥴🥴

And don't get me wrong I love bitching, but this flavor of. Fuck idk. Domestic submission? Service kink? Wolves submitting to their leader no matter their dynamic, nearly got me skipping into work this morning

I'm curious about their biology in this too. Shig has a secondary sex, but dabi doesn't? Does that mean alphas are usually male and omegas female? Do pack dynamics change that, like could an omega be the alpha of a pack?

FEELING LIKE SHIG MATED HIM WITH THE CHEW TOY??????!!!!!!!! EEEEEEEE I AM SCREAMING LIKE A TEA KETTLE. IT MAKES SO MUCH SENSE THAT THEY'D GET LIKE A HORMONE RUSH FROM THE SCENT OF BLOOD WHILE FUCKING!!!

Thank you to whoever commissioned this, and of course to you tanco!!!

ehehehe thank you for yelling!

I know I talk about fics re-writing my brain chemistry, but god damn did this one fucking do that too! I had such a good time exploring a different interpretation of werewolf lore!

Shig was definitely losing it to his instincts to see Dabi displaying such perfect submission when, up to this point, he'd barely acknowledged him as his pack, let alone his alpha. It definitely made everything a little less platonic on his end right from the jump!

Yeessss, I really like this concept of pack dynamics for a world where secondary sexes aren't really a thing anymore. Like this is a world where ABO dynamics existed a very long time ago, but they were bred out of the population because they weren't as strong as just having synced cycles and pack-mating (especially for turned packs, which usually outnumber born packs). If there were male omegas/female alphas, they wouldn't exist in this day and age. And the holdovers of ABO traits are very mild, like with Shig who can just continue having a knot through his whole cycle, it's not that much of a difference to a normal male wolf like Dabi (even his thought that Shig's cycle would last longer, ended up being an incorrect assumption because they ended at the same time). On the other side, female wolves who have traces of Omega still in them might produce more slick that smells more strongly, but that's about it. It's not a notable difference and in a few more generations, these traits will likely be eradicated completely because they don't have a real biological/evolutionary advantage in modern society. These holdovers are entirely biological, and don't impact pack dynamics! Wolves of any sex or gender can be alphas, but there aren't pack omegas or betas, "alpha" now just refers to the leader of the group, and no one identifies as having a secondary sex in wolf society.

The psychosexual impact of having that smell and the fake flesh in their mouths nearly made the two of them feral, and we love that for them!! You bet your ass that the next time their cycle hits, they're going to be out there taking chomps out of each other's throats until their scents are so tangled that they'll give any other wolf/pret a headache if they are within a five-mile radius of them.

Thank you so much for commenting!

[basketballanonsblog]

Posting this 3 days early because who cares about the schedule right? 🫠

Jeongyeon x Reader: soulmate AU

A sprinkle of Motzu at the beginning

Synopsis: You're slowly learning to love life again

Reason to love

"Tzuyu, relax. I'm sure Momo will love whatever you'll do for valentines day."

The youngest of the group sought out advice, going on a tangent about different ideas. She stopped pacing around and took a deep breath.

"You're right. What are your plans for y/n tomorrow?"

"Nothing extravagant, just a surprise picnic."

"Y/n unnie will love it nonetheless."

The maknae's words made Jeongyeon feel better than she'd like to admit.

-x-

You stretched your arms before opening your eyes. Looking left, your heart skipped a beat at the sight of the love of your life.

It was extraordinary. No matter how many tales you heard about what it's like to find your soulmate, it paled in comparison to the actual feeling.

You wouldn't complain if Jeongyeon was the only person you could look at for the rest of your life.

Seeing her barefaced and serene, you silently vowed to do everything in your power to protect her.

"I can feel you staring." She said without opening her eyes. You became bashful, leaning down to press kisses to her cheek until she squealed.

"How can I not stare? You're so beautiful."

"Even if I just woke up?"

"Yes."

"I'll only believe you if you kiss me."

You didn't hesitate to obey, and you felt her arms encircle your shoulders. For all you knew, an hour could've passed. But unfortunately, the real world was calling.

"I wish I could stay in bed with you, but I have to go to the office."

That was the first Jeongyeon was hearing of this.

"I thought you were free today?"

"Why?" She realised you were unaware it was valentines day.

"Nothing. Have fun at work." Was she disappointed? Definitely, but she understood that your job was important.

-x-

You chewed on the end of your pen whilst looking out of the window. The shift in Jeongyeon's demeanour bothered you.

Have you forgotten something? Your two month anniversary was all you could think of, but that was still over a week away.

Mina will know, you decided. Popping your head out the door you called to your friend.

"Mina! What's special about today?"

She was taken aback by your abruptness but recovered swiftly.

"Um...valentines day? Chaeyoung is taking me out to dinner tonight."

Oh.

"Thank you."

You practically slammed the door, and Mina laughed when you exclaimed "y/n you idiot!"

-x-

Jeongyeon walked towards your office with the picnic basket. She almost abandoned the idea since you were clueless about today's date. However, you sent her a text asking her to stop by because you've cleared out most of your afternoon schedules.

"Y/n didn't mean to forget." Mina said after they greeted each other.

"She's never celebrated valentines day before." Now that, Jeongyeon didn't know, making her frown.

"But, y/n is 219 years old."

"Yes. She detested the idea of celebrating many things alone, such as her birthday and valentines day. Over time, they became like any other day."

She was saddened to hear that. Anyone who loves as deeply as you do doesn't deserve to bear the weight of loneliness.

"Don't let me keep you. It's just her in there, so you can walk straight in." Mina snapped Jeongyeon out of her thoughts.

You were sitting on your desk when she entered, and you held her close once she was within reach.

"I'm sorry, my love. I'm still getting used to the fact that I finally found the person I can share my life with."

You rested your head against her chest. "Please be patient with me."

"Of course, baby." She combed her fingers through your hair while you basked in the comfort she exuded.

"I hope you don't mind, we have a visitor for lunch."

"Who?"

You stood upright, motioning for Jeongyeon to face the door.

"3, 2, 1..."

A little girl ran into the office, laughing.

"Hi Miss y/n!" She leapt into your chair, spinning around.

"Hey Eun-ji." She spun around for a couple of times before realising Jeongyeon was there too. Her eyes narrowed in curiosity causing Jeongyeon to waver slightly at her gaze.

Since when are children this intimidating?

"Hello, I'm -" She attempted to break the ice.

"You're Miss y/n's angel!"

Her what?

"Eh?"

Eun-ji picked up the photo of Jeongyeon you kept on your desk.

"I saw this, and Miss y/n said you're her angel."

"Did she now?" She smirked at you, making your ears turn red. You sheepishly rubbed your nape and cleared your throat.

"Lunch! Let's go, I'm hungry." You let Eun-ji jump on your back while you grabbed the picnic basket; avoiding eye contact with your girlfriend.

-x-

Jeongyeon slipped her hand in yours while the pair of you watched Eun-ji play in the park, the food long gone.

She knew you received your fair share of demons over the years, but she admired how you tried your best not to let them consume you.

"How did you meet her?"

"I shouldn't say too much, but something terrible happened to her, and I'm the prosecutor for this case. Trials can be hard enough to begin with, but it gets a whole lot more complicated when you add a child. It's my responsibility to make sure she's prepared, and despite being professional, she's somehow grown attached to me."

"Like you can't say the same." She teased.

"Perhaps." A hint of a smile appeared.

"It's understandable. I feel calm when I'm with you, and I'm guessing it's the same for her. No matter how aloof you try to act, there's just something inherently... warm about you."

The little girl reappeared, urging you to accompany her. You didn't resist as she pulled you to the playground.

Affection swelled within Jeongyeon as she watched Eun-ji, and you run around.

"There are those butterflies in my stomach again." She whispered to herself.

And if for a moment she imagined a future of you running around with a little one of your own, then she'd never tell.

Eun-ji joined her eventually, resting against her on the bench.

"Are you tired now?"

"A tiny bit, but I'm having fun with you and Miss y/n!" She tucked her hair behind the girl's ear and gave her a bottle of water.

"Jagiya!" You called out, catching both of their attention. "Watch this!"

You jumped, grabbing the monkey bars, before flipping your body around, making you hang upside down.

"Y/n unnie is silly." Eun-ji giggled at your antics.

"She is, isn't she? Stay here for a minute, sweetheart. " Jeongyeon made her way to you, bringing a smile to your face.

"Is Eun-ji okay?" The pair of you looked at the girl, who waved back.

"Yeah, she's just tired." Your girlfriend couldn't take you seriously as you were upside down.

"You know, it's hard to believe you're over two hundred years old when you're being playful like this."

"Be honest, honey, you love it." Her expression softened, and she couldn't resist leaning up slightly to kiss you.

"I do."

God...you'd never get tired of her kisses.

"You always make me feel lightheaded, my love."

"That's not me, silly. It's just the blood rushing to your head."

"I'll only get down for another kiss." You stuck your lips out, making Jeongyeon laugh.

"No chance!" She walked back to Eun-ji, leaving you upside down and pouting.

-x-

The sun was setting, and the little girl was asleep against your shoulder as you carried her. You looked to your girlfriend, whose hand was intertwined with yours.

It all felt a bit domestic, to be honest, but you didn't mind one bit.

"Jeongyeon, I'm sorry." You blurted out, causing her to face you so quickly, but you froze for a second, feeling nervous.

"What for honey?"

"I know this wasn't how you envisioned spending our first valentines day together. I'm trying my hardest to be better, to learn that I shouldn't constantly shut people out. Especially you. Jeongyeon, you have turned my world upside down, and I love you so much for that. Because of you, I'm beginning to find joy and love in the things I've ignored for so long. You're my reason to live, and I want to share every facet of my life with you."

Tears pricked the corner of her eyes during your mini heartfelt speech.

"Oh honey, I never doubted you. I see that you're trying your best, and I appreciate it more than you can imagine. You're right. This isn't how I imagined the day would go. But honestly? I wouldn't change a single thing about it."

"Really? So you were still... happy today?"

Jeongyeon stepped closer to you, being careful not to awake the girl before kissing your forehead.

"The happiest."