#without anyone suspecting anything until it's too late

[rhineposting]

life still looks like shit for me, so have a casual rhinedottir from a magma canvas additional thoughts under cut

In my mind, Rhinedottir does dress pretty casually when she's not in risk of being seen by unauthorized people (literally anyone except Alice), because appearances are a big part of the persona she dons while in public, especially when interacting with the rest of the court (that and I think she has some minor narcissism going on but that's a different can of worms to open later.)

[rafedarling]

𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

requested by @gracerose68

pairing: drew starkey x fem!reader

summary: five years after outer banks ended, drew and you are enjoying life together, despite your ten-year age gap. loved by the entire cast, you are considered part of the “obs fam.” during a group vacation to ibiza, you starts feeling off and realizes you might be pregnant. caught between your fears of drew’s reaction and the unwavering support of your “siblings,” you discovers that love, family, and unexpected surprises can lead to beautiful new beginnings.

warning(s): english is not my native language. unplanned pregnancy, emotional vulnerability, fluff, humor, mild swearing, supportive friendships.

au: like, reblog and feedback are much appreciated.

Your and the other actor of Outer Banks group chat was always filled with energy.

Chase: “Ibiza is happening! Flights booked. Who’s ready for sunburns and bad decisions?”

Rudy: “I call dibs on the best room. Drew, don’t fight me this time.”

JD: “This isn’t Outer Banks, Rudy. No treasure hunt to claim a room.”

Madelyn: “Can we focus? Who’s bringing sunscreen?”

Madison: “Y/N will bring it. She always has everything.”

You glanced up from your phone and smirked at Drew, who was scrolling through the same messages.

“They’re not wrong.”

“You’re like the group’s mom,” Drew teased, pulling you closer on the couch.

“Well, somebody has to keep you lot alive.” You poked his side, earning a soft laugh.

The trip to Ibiza had been a long time coming. Between work schedules and personal commitments, it had been years since the Outer Banks cast had been in the same place together. Despite not being a cast member, you were as much a part of the group as anyone else. Drew’s friends had embraced you with open arms, making you feel like family.

It wasn’t always easy being ten years younger than Drew. At 24, you were still navigating adulthood, while Drew, at 34, was more settled. But your love for each other made the age gap feel insignificant.

The first day in Ibiza was pure of laugh and every other things. About the villa, it was breathtaking, with whitewashed walls, infinity pools, and views of the sparkling Mediterranean. Everyone quickly settled into vacation mode, with plans for beach days, exploring the island, and late-night conversations by the firepit.

By the second day, though, you couldn’t shake the nagging exhaustion and nausea that had crept in. It wasn’t like you to feel so drained, especially when surrounded by people you loved.

As the group lounged on the beach, Drew noticed you sitting quietly under the shade of an umbrella.

“Hey,” he said softly, crouching beside you. “You okay? You’ve been quiet today.”

You forced a smile, brushing off his concern.

“Just tired. I think the travel caught up with me.”

His brow furrowed, but he didn’t push.

“Let me know if you need anything, okay?”

“Always.”

Later that afternoon, a small girl wandered toward the group, her tear-streaked face melting everyone’s hearts.

“Where’s your mommy?” you asked gently, kneeling in the sand to meet her gaze.

The little girl sniffled and pointed toward the other end of the beach. Without hesitation, you held her hand, reassuring her until her mother arrived.

“You’re an angel,” the mother said gratefully before walking away.

“You’d make such a great mom,” Madison said, nudging Drew with a grin.

“She really would,” Drew agreed, his eyes soft as they met yours.

Your stomach flipped, but not in the good way. His words felt like confirmation of what you’d been suspecting but were too scared to admit.

That night, while everyone gathered in the living room for a movie, you excused yourself and retreated to the bathroom. With shaking hands, you retrieved the pregnancy test you’d packed.

The seconds felt like hours as you stared at the test, unable to bring yourself to flip it over.

A knock on the door startled you.

“It’s Madelyn. Are you okay?”

You quickly hid the test and opened the door, forcing a smile.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

Madelyn’s sharp eyes darted to the trash can, where the box sat in plain view.

“Y/N…” she began, her voice a mix of curiosity and concern. “Are you pregnant?”

Tears welled in your eyes as you nodded.

“I think so. I haven’t looked yet.”

Without hesitation, Madelyn wrapped you in a hug.

“It’s going to be okay. I promise. Let’s look together.”

With trembling hands, you flipped the test over. Two pink lines. Positive.

“Oh my god,” you whispered, the weight of the realization crashing down.

Madelyn pulled you close as you started to cry.

“It’s okay. Drew loves you. He’s going to be so excited.”

“But what if he’s not?” you sobbed.

“We’ve never talked about kids. What if this ruins everything?”

Madelyn shook her head.

“Stop. Drew adores you. He’s not going anywhere.”

Madelyn helped you gather the girls for a “mandatory ladies’ meeting” in the bathroom.

“Are you dying?” Rudy called after you jokingly as the girls shuffled upstairs.

“Very funny,” Carlacia shot back before closing the door.

Once everyone was inside, you took a deep breath and shared your news. The girls gasped, their reactions quickly turning to excitement.

“You’re going to be such a good mom!” Kelsea squealed.

“If Drew so much as blinks wrong, we’ve got your back,” Madison added, earning a round of laughter.

The next day, the guys decided to go bungee jumping, leaving the girls at the villa.

“You’re seriously not going to tell him yet?” Madison asked as you lounged by the pool.

“I’m scared,” you admitted.

“You can’t keep this from him forever,” Carlacia said gently.

“I know. I’ll tell him tonight.”

When the guys returned, you greeted Drew with a tight hug. “I missed you.”

“I was gone for a few hours,” he laughed, kissing your forehead.

At dinner, panic set in again when the waiter asked what you’d like to drink. Thankfully, Madelyn saved you by whispering to the waiter to make your cocktail virgin.

After dinner, the group gathered by the firepit, and the girls urged you again to tell Drew.

“You’ll feel so much better once it’s out in the open,” Madison said.

With a deep breath, you pulled Drew aside, leading him down to the villa’s private pier.

“What’s going on?” he asked, his worry evident.

“I have something important to tell you,” you began, your voice shaking.

Drew’s brows furrowed. “You’re scaring me.”

“I’m pregnant,” you blurted out, tears streaming down your face.

“I know we haven’t talked about this, and if you don’t want —” you continue.

“Wait,” Drew interrupted, his eyes wide. “You’re pregnant?”

You nodded, unable to meet his gaze.

Drew pulled you into his arms, his grip firm yet comforting.

“Y/N, this is amazing. I love you. I love us. We’re going to be fine. I mean much better than fine.”

His words brought a fresh wave of tears, but this time, they were tears of relief.

Back at the villa, Drew insisted on sharing the news with the group.

“We’re having a baby!” he announced, his grin infectious.

The group erupted in cheers, with the guys tackling Drew in a congratulatory hug while the girls swarmed you.

“You’re stuck with us forever now,” Chase joked.

“You’ve been family for a while,” Rudy added, “but this seals it.”

As the night wound down, Drew pulled you close, his hand resting protectively on your stomach.

“You’ve given me everything I didn’t know I wanted,” he said softly.

You smiled, your fears finally melting away. Surrounded by love, you knew this was the start of a beautiful new chapter.

[onlyhyunjin]

𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒!

(♡) - my personal favorites (🔞) - CONTAINS NSFW CONTENT

NEW BEGINNINGS - @ikeuverse (flirting with your brother's brother-in-law wasn't in your plans after returning from studying abroad. it wasn't something you were going to stop either since heeseung was the epitome of beauty. but when there's another woman's name in the story. what happens? you don't want to be caught between a betrayal… or so you thought.) (♡)

MARRY ME - @ikeuverse (ever since you met lee heeseung, he told you that the two of you were going to get married. all the time, at every opportunity, he reinforced it until one day, drunk, you accepted. was he dreaming or did it really happen? it wouldn't be so bad to fall for his jokes for once.)

TIDES OF REGRET - @pprodsuga (in the year since heeseung first rejected your love confession, you've tried everything to get over him. a trip to europe makes you realize you miss your former best friend more than anything, and it makes heeseung realize he's got it all wrong.) (♡)(🔞)

HOW I MET YOUR MOTHER - @i2sunric (your daughter asks heeseung to tell the greatest love story of all and he takes the chance to narrate how he met you, the love of his life.) (♡)

JUNE BLOSSOMS - @soobnny (synopsis. as the month of may ends, you wonder what june holds for you and heeseung (especially with no more need to fake date.)

LATE SUMMER LOVIN' - @4am-enha (you desperately want to spend your last summer here in town with your friends, only to find out almost all of them are away on vacation. that is, all of them but heeseung. the one friend you’d never really been that close with.)

BITE ME - @drunkhazed (“I’m kind of confused still.” You admit, anxiously shuffling to sit without making eye-contact. Heeseung chuckles plopping down by your side, arm slinging back over your shoulder to keep you pressed against him.)(🔞)

COFFEE & CREAM - @ham-st4r (one chilly night after a long work shift, you’re unfortunately forced to walk home. Cause you left your bag at work, half way through your journey you stumble across a homeless man who you naturally offer money to, and he though he refuses. You give it to him anyway, and down the road, you’ll find that those two dollars changed not only his life but yours as well.) (🔞)

IT'S CUPID, STUPID - @mygnolia (To hell with Lee Heeseung, you couldn't find someone you hated more than the boy who's by your side no matter what. You figured that maybe the summer before university would be the best way to finally let go of him, and to leave the hate you have in your childhood- but no. What do you mean you have to spend ALL summer with him?)

FUCK BUDDIES - @dimepdf (y/n and heeseung and fwb after heeseung win in his football match y/n gives him the best reward)

TEETH - @gyuuberryy (you were not thrilled about the move in of your new neighbour. mostly because he was so strange and seemed to be hiding something dark. and partly because you couldn’t stop yourself from getting closer to him because of your unwanted attraction. you were determined to expose his dark secret and get rid of him once and for all. but, it was proving to be a difficult task because he was just so irresistible..and needy.)

PLAYER RANK: PLATINUM - @simpjaes (You’re not sure what’s worse, your sister’s boyfriend or your sister’s boyfriend’s friends. What you thought would be a great deal in living with her throughout college turns into a major game of cat and mouse, where you’re unsure if your moral compass is pointing in the right direction solely because you suspect someone is wearing a giant sex magnet to throw it off.) (🔞)

RUDE - @4wkjun (heeseung has never loved anyone as much as he loves y/n. y/n’s father has never hated someone as much as he hates heeseung. but it doesn’t matter, heeseung’s gonna marry y/n anyway.)

I OFFER YOU MY EVERYTHING - @heegyukeluv (You never cared about sex, until you did. You grew too afraid of it, scared of disappointing the other person or showing your inexperience. But then you met Heeseung, the hot basketball captain that stole your heart and became your biggest fantasy. ) (🔞)

VERBOTEN - @heesbaby (a bad stroke of luck saw lee heeseung, your dads coworker, moving into your small apartment until he found his feet again. emotionally unavailable and a workaholic, you were going to try your absolute hardest to make him loosen up. even if it meant breaking a few of the house rules he'd set out.) (🔞) (♡)

10 DAYS TO FALL IN LOVE - @luvyeni (you and heeseung used to be bestfriends as children — he even told you he'd marry you one day. but then you went to highschool and things changed , he dyed his hair and started hanging out with a new group group of friends. through all that his love never changed for you — has yours changed for him?)

RENT A BOYFRIEND - @jayujus (in which jeon y/n is desperate to find a boyfriend ASAP because she needs a date for her family's mixer. her best friend, ningning, introduces her to a website perfect for this situation!)

CHERRY CHAPSTICK - @angelwonie (ever since you met lee heeseung, he told you that the two of you were going to get married. all the time, at every opportunity, he reinforced it until one day, drunk, you accepted. was he dreaming or did it really happen? it wouldn't be so bad to fall for his jokes for once.)

[lyrastark94]

FRIENDS? (PART TWO) - LEVI ACKERMAN

PART ONE HERE ↓

Synopsis: Erwin's younger sister is having a secret romance with captain Levi.

WARNINGS: Mentions of sex.

It was dangerous—what they were doing.

Not because they were breaking protocol. Not because it would spark rumors. Not even because Mike had caught Levi brushing dirt off her shoulder and narrowed his eyes like he’d just seen a crime scene.

No.

It was dangerous because Erwin would murder Levi Ackerman in cold blood if he knew Levi was sneaking into his sister’s room every single night.

Not for anything scandalous.

Most nights, they just lay there.

Legs tangled. Her cheek on his chest. His hand curled around her fingers like letting go meant death.

Levi didn’t sleep well without her anymore.

He hadn’t, since that night.

---

They were careful. So careful. Y/N would leave five minutes before morning bells. Levi would walk the long route around HQ just to avoid being seen near her quarters.

They timed patrol shifts. They had a coded knock on her door. They used Hange as a cover more times than either of them were proud of.

And no one suspected a thing.

At least… not at first.

---

“Why are you always late to the meetings now?” Mike asked one morning, squinting at Levi.

Levi shrugged. “Overslept.”

“You don’t oversleep.”

“I do now.”

Hange coughed into her mug suspiciously.

Y/N walked in two minutes later, out of breath.

“I overslept too,” she lied.

Mike stared at them both.

Narrowed his eyes.

Said nothing.

---

At night, Levi would wait for the hallway to go quiet. Boots gone. Voices gone. Lights dimmed.

Then he’d knock once.

Twice.

Pause.

She’d open the door, sleepy-eyed, in one of his old shirts. And he’d just melt.

“Rough day?” she’d whisper.

He never answered. Just pressed a kiss to her forehead like that was answer enough.

---

He never planned to fall this hard.

She wasn’t like anyone else.

She was warmth and sharpness and softness all at once.

She still laughed. Still believed. Still made tea even after the worst days.

And when she smiled at him like he was safe?

He knew he’d burn the whole world for her.

---

They were subtle. Professionals. No one knew.

…Until one afternoon in the war room when Erwin raised an eyebrow and said:

“Captain, you’ve been unusually agreeable lately.”

Levi blinked. “I can be agreeable.”

Mike snorted.

Hange leaned in, grinning. “You smiled last week. Smiled. I almost called a medic.”

Levi rolled his eyes. “Get out.”

Erwin watched him carefully, then turned to his sister.

“You’ve been humming lately.”

She froze mid-sip of tea.

“Just in a good mood,” she said too fast.

Erwin narrowed his eyes. “Are you seeing someone?”

Levi coughed so violently he nearly choked.

Mike looked delighted.

Hange mouthed: busted.

But Y/N just smiled sweetly. “No one you know.”

---

That night, Levi collapsed onto her bed, face in her pillow.

“He’s going to kill me.”

“He doesn’t know.”

“He knows.”

She grinned, climbing in next to him, wrapping her arms around his middle.

“Then I guess we better be more careful.”

He turned his head to look at her, face soft, voice low.

“I’m not careful when it comes to you.”

“Clearly.”

She kissed his shoulder, cheek, then his lips. And he melted. Again.

---

Because every morning he left her room just before sunrise.

And every night he waited until the base was asleep just to feel her next to him.

He’d never had this.

Never thought he could.

But here it was.

A secret.

A risk.

A life.

---

They were supposed to be alone.

Everyone was out—training schedules staggered, Erwin locked in meetings, Mike and Nanaba scouting the perimeter, Hange “dissecting something disgusting.”

It was the perfect window.

So, of course, it went horribly wrong.

---

Levi had just closed the door to her quarters behind him when Y/N wrapped her arms around his waist from behind.

“You’re early,” she whispered.

“You complainin’?”

She turned him around, slow, deliberate. “Never.”

The kiss started soft.

It never stayed that way.

Levi’s hands found the hem of her shirt.

Her mouth pulled a sigh out of him he didn’t know he had.

He kissed her like he hadn’t in days—desperate, intense, all-consuming.

One hand braced on the wall.

The other tangled in her hair.

Her fingers were sliding under the collar of his shirt.

He kissed her harder.

And that’s when the door opened.

---

“Y/N—have you seen—”

Silence.

Erwin stood there.

Blinking.

Expression unreadable.

Mouth slightly open.

Y/N gasped and shoved Levi away.

Levi blinked like someone had dropped a brick on his head.

Erwin’s eyes dropped to Levi’s hand, still splayed across his sister’s waist.

Then to Y/N’s lips.

Then to the way her shirt was definitely on inside out.

“…Commander,” Levi finally croaked.

“…Captain,” Erwin said slowly. “I see you’ve… made yourself comfortable.”

Y/N wanted to die.

Right there.

On the floor.

Maybe under the floor. In a hole.

“I—I thought you were in a meeting—”

“I was. Until I was told you didn’t show for supply drills. I came to check on you. Clearly, you’re—” he gestured vaguely at whatever had been happening, “—busy.”

Levi looked like he was weighing the merits of jumping out the window.

Erwin exhaled. “I am going to need… a moment.”

He turned on his heel and walked away, after saying:

“I’ll kill you if you break her heart,”

Silence.

Y/N was still frozen.

Levi leaned his head back against the wall and whispered:

“Well. That went to shit.”

---

Later that night, as they sat on her bed in total, shame-filled silence, Y/N glanced sideways and muttered, “...I think we were still hot.”

Levi choked on his tea.

---

Erwin didn’t speak to Levi for two days.

Then one morning, in passing, he said:

“She’s the only good thing in this hellhole. Don’t ruin it.”

Levi just nodded.

Didn’t say it out loud.

But he already knew:

He wouldn’t. He couldn’t. He was in too deep.

---

It started with a knock on her door.

Gentle. Calm. Suspicious.

Y/N cracked it open. “Yeah?”

Erwin stood there. Stoic. Neutral. Too neutral.

“We need to talk.”

“Okay?”

“In my office.”

Her soul left her body.

---

She sat on the couch. He stood with his arms crossed like he was briefing her on a siege.

"Y/N," he started.

"You and Levi."

Her eyes went wide. "Nope. No. We're not doing this."

"I'm not angry."

"You’re you. That’s worse."

“I just want to make sure he’s respecting you.”

“He is! In fact, you can leave now, thanks!”

Erwin took a slow, deep breath like he was about to lead a charge.

“I need to ask…”

He paused.

She glared.

“...Have you two… done it?”

Silence.

You could hear a Titan cry from five miles out.

Y/N shrieked, “OH MY GOD, ERWIN.”

He held up both hands. “I just need to know.”

“NO! WE HAVEN’T! THANK YOU FOR THAT!”

He sat beside her like he hadn’t just tried to ruin her life.

“I’m serious, Y/N. If things progress, you have to be careful. I don't want accidents and you know it's serious having sex with someone, and Levi probably—”

“I SWEAR TO MARIA IF YOU FINISH THAT SENTENCE—”

“— he probably doesn’t understand subtlety in bed—”

“ERWIN.”

“All I’m saying is, please use protection. You don’t need to give me details, I just want you to be safe.”

Y/N stood up, pacing like a madwoman.

“Oh my god. Oh my GOD. You are talking about sex like you’re explaining a combat strategy.”

“Well, in a way, it is.”

“STOP TALKING.”

Erwin leaned forward, elbows on knees, voice calm and terrifying.

“You're my sister. I care about you. I trust Levi. But I'm still picturing him shirtless in your room and it's actively giving me a stroke.”

Y/N screamed into her hands.

---

Levi, 15 minutes earlier, had been heading toward her quarters with tea and a book.

He saw Erwin walking in.

He turned 180° and walked back into the woods.

“Not my war,” he muttered.

---

Later that night:

Y/N was laying face-down on Levi’s bed.

Dead silent. Emotionally traumatized.

“I’m never looking at our commander in the eye again,” she mumbled.

Levi stared at her, deeply unamused. “What’d he say?”

“He asked if we’d done it.”

A pause. A blink.

Levi turned and walked directly into a wall.

“…He what?”

“And then he told me to use protection.”

Levi sat down slowly. “I’m killing him.”

“No you’re not.”

“I’m killing myself.”

“That’s fair.”

They lay there in horrified silence.

Y/N peeked at him. “...But, like, we haven’t done anything.”

Levi looked at her, calmly. “Do you want to?”

“LEVI!”

---

Meanwhile, in Erwin’s office:

He took a long sip of tea, sighed, and whispered to himself:

“I’m too young to be a grandfather.”

---

It started—like all great disasters—with Hange.

She hadn’t been snooping, per se.

She was looking for Levi’s spare cleaning supplies.

In his room.

Without knocking.

It’s not like she expected to find evidence.

But then she opened a drawer.

And found a single, unopened condom.

Right on top.

“Huh,” she said aloud. “Weird packaging. Wait, is this…?”

A pause.

A beat.

A gasp heard across Wall Rose.

“HE’S DOING THE NASTY?”

She didn’t even shut the drawer.

---

Mike heard the scream and came running like a bloodhound with rage issues.

He skidded to a stop in front of Hange’s flailing arms.

“HANGE. WHAT.”

She held up the condom like a damn crime scene tag.

“LEVI’S HAVING SEX.”

Mike froze. “That’s—”

“WITH Y/N.”

And that was it.

Mike stormed through the hallway like an incoming natural disaster.

Everyone got out of the way.

Birds flew off windowsills.

Someone said they heard thunder.

He kicked open the doors to the stables—Levi’s latest hiding spot.

Levi turned.

Calm. Clean. Hands in pockets.

Until Mike grabbed him by the front of the shirt and lifted him.

"NOT WITH THE KID."

Levi blinked. "...The f***?"

"Y/N. Smith. The baby of the Corps. The sunshine gremlin. You're old. She's not."

Levi didn’t even flinch.

“We’ve been together for a year.”

Mike’s eye twitched.

“WHAT.”

Levi sighed. “Yeah. She loves me. I love her. Deal with it.”

“DEAL WITH IT??” Mike boomed. “YOU’RE DOING UNSPEAKABLE THINGS WITH ERWIN’S LITTLE SISTER??”

“Okay first of all, she’s 22.”

“She knits scarves for injured pigeons!”

“She also broke a Titan’s jaw with her bare hands last week.”

Mike was seething.

He dropped Levi.

"You manipulative little bastard—"

“I’m literally shorter than her.”

“YOU THINK THAT’S GONNA SAVE YOU??”

---

Meanwhile, in Erwin’s office:

Hange slammed open the door, breathless.

“Did you KNOW?!”

Erwin looked up from his paperwork. “Yes.”

Nanaba poked her head in. “Is it true? Are they… doing the do?”

“Apparently,” Erwin said with the calm of a man whose soul left months ago.

Hange: “And you’re just OKAY with this?!”

Erwin: “No. But I’m tired. - Why are you asking me this? A little respect, man, I'm your commander.”

Mike stormed in with Levi’s crumpled collar still in his fist.

“HOW DO YOU ALLOW THIS?” he barked. “SHE’S YOUR BABY.”

Erwin folded his hands.

“She’s not a child. She’s a soldier. She made her choice.”

“WITH LEVI??”

“Yes.”

Nanaba: “Did you at least give her The Talk?”

Erwin: “I did.”

Hange: “Oh my god.”

Levi entered, looking like he walked through a hurricane of judgment.

Y/N came in after him, sheepishly.

Mike stared at her like she’d been possessed.

“You could do so much better.”

Levi: “Gee. Thanks.”

Erwin stood up. “Enough.”

The room went quiet.

Erwin looked at them all. Stern. Calm.

“They’re in love. Get over it.”

A long beat.

Then Hange muttered, “Still wild you had condoms.”

Y/N squeaked, “THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A SECRET—”

Levi walked straight out the door.

---

Hange told the entire barracks.

Nanaba asked for tea and details.

Mike started following Levi everywhere.

Levi, deadpan: “Why are you behind me.”

Mike: “Waiting for you to slip up, loverboy.”

Erwin poured wine and whispered to himself,

“Maybe I’ll just let the Titans win.”

---

It started with Hange, as always.

A whisper here.

A comment there.

Until it was everywhere.

They didn’t even say it outright. Just...

“Hey, did you hear?”

“What?”

“About Levi and Y/N…”

Eyes widened.

Chokes were swallowed.

Teacups shattered.

And somehow—somehow—the story mutated.

By noon: they were dating.

By dinner: they were living together.

By midnight: someone swore they heard something from Levi’s room.

---

MEETING ROOM – 0800 HOURS

Erwin walks in. Calm. Composed. Commander.

Levi walks in. Cold. Silent. Iconic.

Y/N walks in. Smiles. Sunshine. Danger.

The room?

Dead.

Silent.

All eyes immediately avert.

Nanaba coughs behind her hand.

Moblit stares at a wall.

Mike sniffs the air like it’s tainted.

Hange grins. “So… sleep well, lovebirds?”

Y/N goes red.

Levi blinks. “She kicked me in her sleep.”

Gasps.

Erwin doesn’t flinch. He just sighs.

“Back to the report.”

---

LATER – TRAINING YARD

Levi is brutal.

Y/N is glowing.

Nanaba whispers, “He’s trying not to flirt. Look at him. He’s dying.”

Moblit: “I heard he called her ‘baby’ yesterday.”

Mike: “He’s using pet names? Levi?”

Y/N flips someone over and casually strolls past Levi.

He glances—just glances—and Hange goes:

“DID YOU SEE THAT??”

Levi, loud enough to scare birds:

“Focus or I’ll have you scrubbing latrines with your tongue.”

Everyone shuts up. But they know.

They know.

---

He only softens when they’re alone.

Rough hands on her waist.

Murmured “you’re all I fucking care about” against her hair.

A smirk when she teases him.

“Commander asked if we were being ‘responsible.’”

Levi: “He should be glad I didn’t bend you over his desk.”

“LEVI—”

He rolls his eyes. “Like I’d disrespect furniture.”

But then he pulls her close.

“I love you, dumbass.”

She laughs. “Say it again.”

He grumbles it into her neck, “I fucking love you, Y/N.”

[luveline]

i lowkey need to see stripper!reader and spencer again

for you gorgeous ♡ fem

cw adult themes

Hotch and Spencer draw attention at the strip club for the same reason but in varied fonts. They're both reminiscent of your regulars, Hotch the picture of a businessman with a wife to forget and steam to blow, and Spencer the silent sweetheart, pretty but too shy to talk to normal girls. 

He doesn't need a normal girl when he has you. 

You're glad for your cover up clothes as you lean against the dressing room door. One of the bouncers peers at you from the corner of his eye. 

"Trouble?" he asks. 

"Not sure. Probably not." You wave until Agent Hotchner notices you. To your delight, he raises his hand politely. 

You step around the bouncer and bypass the stage to the lighter area of the club where they stand in wait. "Hello. I could've met you outside." 

"Would you?" Agent Hotchner asks. 

You don't need him to explain. It's not the most professional thing, loitering in a club like this. You follow them out of the club and onto the street, cold even in your sweatpants as the wind rails. Spencer lets you squeeze his fingers in greeting, but that's all. 

"It's nice to see you again, Agent Hotchner," you say honestly, giving him a smile. 

He doesn't return the pleasantry, but Spencer swears he's softer than he looks so you choose to run with it as Agent Hotchner says, "We need information on one of your patrons." 

"Tennis Lawley," Spencer adds. 

"Tennis," you repeat. "I thought my pseudonym was bad."

Spencer gives you a quick look. I'd laugh if I weren't at work, it says. "We think he's involved in a string of killings in Washington DC. What do you know about him?" 

It's not an exaggeration to say you've played therapist for Tennis and a ton of guys just like him. Being a stripper, an exotic dancer, whatever anyone wants to call it (though Spencer usually just calls it your work) has pros and cons. You've felt it to be heavier on the con side, but this is a big plus, being able to assist someone you care about with something important. It makes you feel useful for once, like you're more than the froth of the city. "Ask me anything," you say, hiding your cheek from the cold with a deft hand. 

Spencer and Agent Hotchner ask you all sorts of questions, personal to their suspect and less so, and for the most part you're able to answer them. You can tell from the look on Hotchner's face that he's both surprised and extremely satisfied by your knowing, and he emphasises his thankfulness with a touch to your upper arm before he says goodbye. "Your help is invaluable, Y/N, thank you." 

Spencer, your sweetheart, stays for a more thorough farewell. 

"Have you eaten yet today?" he asks, the hand you'd squeezed earlier leaping for yours. "You look tired." 

"It's getting close to midnight, Spence. I'm alright. You and Agent Hotchner should head home and rest yourselves…" You bring your hand to his cheek but think better of yourself, pushing your arm over his shoulder instead for a hug. His own arms contract around you immediately. "I miss you lately, where have you been?" 

"Everywhere. I miss you too," he says. Despite the months of knowing one another, and the many states he's seen you in, you know without looking that Spencer is blushing profusely. 

You kiss his cheek as your heels return to safe ground. "Come and see me again soon, okay? And bring your rich friends. The older one, Rossi, is he really a millionaire? A divorced one?" 

"Yes, he is," Spencer says with a laugh, his voice climbing higher, "but I don't think he's looking for another wife right now, sorry." 

"Maybe Agent Hotchner–" 

"Stop calling him that." 

You look Spencer straight in the eye, nearly caught off guard by how sweet and soft they meld at your touch where your hands linger in his. 

You often think that you and Spencer aren't meant to be. Your life, whether willing or unwilling, by choice or design, is entirely focused around your body, and Spencer's world revolves around his mind. You know that what you do for work isn't anything to be ashamed of, but you have the same doubts as anyone else. You know what people think of you. You wouldn't blame Spencer for thinking the same things. And you wouldn't expect him to want to be with you in any aspect that wasn't physical. 

But when he holds your hands in his like this, as though they're made of something delicate, something he wants to map every detail or by fingertip alone, you wish things were different. 

You clear your throat. "I really do miss you when you're away," you confess. 

"I'm sorry." 

"Don't be." Your hands miss his the millisecond you pull them away. "I guess I shouldn't keep you. Your boss will be wondering where you are." 

"Are you okay?" 

You can't even pretend it's a strange question; you're acting strange. "I'm fine, Dr. Reid. My nice new boss knows I know the feds, and all the girls are jealous of me when you guys come to visit. They think I'm on your payroll." 

Spencer quirks a puzzled frown, brows pulled together tightly. "You're harder to read than most people. Have I ever told you that?" 

"I guess it's 'cos I spend so much time pretending I'm a different person," you say, smiling to prompt him into smiling back. 

"Maybe." He pulls his bag from where it rests against his hip and opens it, rummaging through the contents with a confused murmur until he pulls out the shape he'd been looking for. "Here. Don't go to bed hungry, okay?" 

Spencer puts a protein bar in your hand. 

He steals a quick hug and leaves not long after that, crossing the dark parking lot to the mass of the dark SUV he arrives in. With one hand, you clutch the protein bar until it takes a new shape, and with the other you blow two sweet kisses, a cheesy, gaudy gesture that never fails to make your favourite special Agent blush. 

[temis-de-leon]

10 signs a cow is happy

Characters: Belphie x gn!MC

Main Masterlist

CW: developing and established relationship. A tiny bit suggestive at one point and there's a mention of rumination (regurgitation) in another one. Otherwise, nothing

A/N: a little different from what I'm used to, but I figured trying something new could help with the writer's block. Hope you enjoy it!

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Inspired by this video and this one <3

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He reacts to his name.

Except it isn’t just his name; at least when the one looking for him is MC.

Most of the time it’s Belphie, although Belphegor comes out occasionally, like those mornings when they’re both running late for class and he won’t wake up. There are also the late nights when MC is too tired to speak and only hums the melody of his name, but the demon still opens an arm and offers the spot beside him.

He frowns when Lucifer yells and continues sleeping when Beel carries him without a care in the world, but, conscious or not, he always smiles when MC is the one calling for him.

He spends time socialising and grooming others.

It’s more noticeable once he’s freed from the attic and he feels the need to spend as much time with them as his brothers had had while he was trapped, although his hate towards humans dissipating might’ve also had something to do with it.

One moment MC finds themselves relaxing in their room and the next, after answering an ominous text message, they are lying down next to him in the planetarium, first admiring the stars and then letting him play with their hair as he unknots it with his fingers.

His touch only grows more intimate as their friendship deepens and eventually evolves into something much less platonic, but the love and care within remain the same.

He likes to play with toys, like balls.

Which is something no one expects; a welcomed surprise.

They’re all sitting in a couple of booths inside a cheap diner in the middle of nowhere, one more time victims of their own misadventures. The smell of meaty grease surrounds them and sticks to their clothes, leaving both Asmo and Beel in tears for completely different reasons, and the mean-looking waitress has enough kindness in her heart to give them an old kid’s toy to entertain themselves.

It goes first to MC, the favourite in the family, and then to Belphie, who never gets to give it to anyone else. He throws it, catches it and bounces it against any surface available until Lucifer gives him a warning look and threatens to confiscate it, to which he pouts.

A couple of minutes later, he throws it in MC’s direction, so they throw it back to him with a smile.

Five minutes later, the ball is neatly kept in Lucifer’s pocket.

He has zoomies.

Another surprise, although not as sweet as the last one.

There’s a primal fear in the depths of their mind, the one that yearns for survival, that begs MC to run and hide the very few times Belphie looks at them with those dilated pupils. They suppose it makes sense, even if they’re not afraid of him anymore.

He doesn’t look dangerous or aggressive, just unsettlingly alert and active for a demon who’s supposed to be always tired; shockingly fast and agile each time the sudden bursts of energy make him run through the house jumping in unfiltered glee, going past MC close enough to almost tackle them to the ground.

Satan suspects it’s a consequence of his long periods of rest and, while MC finds it fascinating, they can’t wait for Belphie to go back to normal.

He’s enthusiastic about treats.

A feature he shares with his brother, no doubt, is their twin telepathy proving its existence yet again; and even though they’re strikingly different, they still share some mannerisms as well, like the way they smile or look up at MC whenever they enter their room.

And that brightness in their face only increases if there are goodies involved.

MC sometimes jokes about Beel being more like a goat, trying to eat anything and everything whether or not is edible. Fortunately, Belphie’s stomach is not that demanding, so a simple sushi platter is enough to leave him happy.

However, MC can’t help but wonder if being the one who brings the treats is part of the reason for his enthusiasm because if so, every market near them will have a sushi shortage very soon.

He chews cud.

Which serves to remind MC of his non-human, half-ruminant nature.

With the middle of March approaching, the twins’ birthday is celebrated as much as possible. The amount of food at the table is tremendous and it even reaches Diavolo’s height; a perfect example of the word variety. There are dishes, appetizers, snacks and desserts for everyone’s taste, fruits and meats and vegetables and whatnot. Fortunately, Beel eats half of it in the blink of an eye before it can get overwhelming.

But for some reason, there’s also a medium-sized bowl full of what looks like grass. It’s hidden amongst other things, probably because of the oddity of its presence, but Belphie finds it quickly enough.

The sight that follows is morbidly captivating and equally disgusting, especially when the chewed food comes back to his mouth for more chewing.

At the end of the day, the important thing is that he’s happy.

…right?

He initiates hugs.

Usually when he wants cuddles and, bratty as he is, his requests often sound more like demands.

He opens his arms, brings MC to his chest and breathes in. There’s a hand wrapped around their waist and another cradling their head, softly scratching their scalp, and their body is already relaxing against his before they can even think about what they’re doing.

Sometimes, when he looks too grumpy to be taken seriously, they like to tease him, laughing at the shocked and offended expression he wears when they playfully ignore his attempted embrace.

They suppose it’s sweet, the idea of always being close as a given fact.

He exposes his tummy for belly rubs.

While lying in that position might be seen as vulnerable for some, it doesn’t seem to be a problem for Belphie; although being a powerful demon probably gave him a good sense of security.

MC would never complain about it, anyway. Seeing him so at peace around them and not only letting, but asking to be pet? A perfect evening if they’ve ever seen one. They let themselves enjoy the feeling of his stomach trembling under the tip of their nails and the small puffs of air that come out when their fingers threaten to travel lower.

It’s a type of intimacy that he wouldn’t mind bragging about in front of his brothers, but he still stays quiet to keep it private and uninterrupted.

He licks his lips when you hit the right scratch spot.

The boredom is hefty enough to kill the whole classroom. Some are painting their skin, others are painting their seatmate’s skin and MC is wondering how soft Belphie’s hair is. He is sitting in front of them during the last period of the day and the temptation is too strong to avoid.

For once, he isn’t carelessly dropped on the table, but rather leaning back and letting his head rest on the back of the chair; he is conscious enough to pay attention to their professor in his sleep but not to his surroundings, so MC takes their shot.

At first they think it’s a coincidence and pay no mind to the subtle movement of his tongue wetting his lips when they scratch his nape, but then it happens again and again and they find themselves unable to stop and forget their little discovery.

Thankfully, when the bell rings and Belphie wakes up to go home with them, MC has the perfect excuse.

He drools! Such things happen!

He purrs.

It takes MC some time to figure out what is the deep rumbling that follows them for months, mainly because it sounds like a creaking door and, while the House of Lamentation is old, the structure and the furniture are kept mostly intact.

Just like white noise, once they turn it down, it’s impossible not to miss it and the realisation is enough to turn the sadness of returning to the human realm into a full crying meltdown.

It was there the whole time: when they woke up Belphie and they were the first person he saw; or when they laid together and played and simply enjoyed each other’s presence and existence.

It’s there again when MC can’t deal with the loneliness anymore and calls him.

The rumbling, a purr, peeking under his low voice.

If that isn’t enough reason to keep loving him, then what is?

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Taglist: @ilovecandys2010 @ollieoven @kingofspadesdelusion @whimsybloom

[favefandomimagines]

Fracture Lines (f.l)

Summary: Dr. Santos starts suspecting Frank's addiction and goes to a senior resident she thought she could trust; Frank's girlfriend

Request: @cosmicwintr would love to read some angst where santos approaches reader about langdon stealing not realising that they're together🙏🙏 obviously only if it interests you ☺️

AN: Kind of short but didn't want to draw it out too much!

The emergency room at PTMC was a constant hum of movement. It was controlled chaos, the kind Dr. Frank Langdon had mastered.

Tall, dark-haired, and sharp-jawed, Frank moved with the intensity of someone who knew exactly what he was doing—and wasn’t interested in anyone questioning him.

Dr. Y/N Y/L/N, a brilliant trauma physician in her own right, watched Frank from across the nurses’ station, noting the twitch in his jaw and the way he clenched and unclenched his fists.

He was doing that thing again, where he paced between beds like a lion in a cage, agitation seeping off him like sweat. She’d noticed it more and more lately. The tension. The mood swings. And now, with the arrival of Dr. Trinity Santos, everything seemed to be coming to a head.

Santos had been a hurricane since she set foot in the ER that morning. She was all energy, confidence, and bravado wrapped in fresh scrubs and too many opinions.

Within her first hour, she’d tried to insert a central line in a patient who just needed fluids, called for a chest tube on someone with mild pneumothorax, and tried to rush ahead of Frank to intubate a trauma patient. It was the kind of behavior that didn’t just toe the line—it obliterated it.

Frank had been professional. Until he wasn’t.

Y/N didn’t hear what he said. The words had come sharp, fast, and low—but the tone was unmistakable. Enough that every head in the ER turned, including hers. Santos had blinked, frozen for a second, and then backed away without a word. Then Robby pulled Frank away.

Ten minutes later, Y/N found him in the hallway, hands gripping the edge of a gurney like it was the only thing holding him together.

"You want to tell me what that was about earlier?" she asked. "What was about?" Frank questioned.

Y/N looked at him increduously. "What you said to Santos, Frank." Her tone sharp.

Frank exhaled, not looking at her. "She was making calls without clearing it with us or Robby, Y/N. She's arrogant, cocky, and she doesn’t know what she’s doing."

"Maybe all of that is true. Maybe she doesn't know what she's doing. But you do. And you know that was out of line."

Frank turned to face her, eyes shadowed and tired. "I know. I just…"

"You what?" Y/N stepped closer. "You lose it on the new intern? In front of the entire ER? Frank, that’s not you. You don’t snap like that."

He didn’t answer, just shook his head and pushed past her.

Y/N stood there for a moment longer, her stomach tight.

Later that afternoon, in a lull between traumas, Y/N sat charting at a corner workstation when Santos appeared.

"Dr. Y/L/N," she said softly.

Y/N glanced up. "What's up?"

"Can I ask you something?"

Y/N nodded, still typing.

"Have you noticed anything...off about Dr. Langdon?"

Y/N’s fingers paused mid-keystroke. She looked up slowly. "Like what?"

Santos checked their surroundings, leaning in. "He’s been...jittery. Avoiding eye contact. I was trying to give a patient some benzos and I couldn't get the cap off. It was like it was resealed."

Y/N sat back, stunned. "Are you accusing Dr. Langdon of stealing drugs?"

Santos looked torn but determined. "I didn’t know who else to go to. I haven’t told anyone else yet. But if something is going on and no one says anything…"

Y/N cut her off. "Look, Santos, you’re a great doctor. I see a lot of potential in you. I understand what you're trying to do here. But going around accusing Dr. Langdon of something this serious? That’s a fast track to a ruined career. For him and you."

"Dr. Y/L/N, I understand. But something is off. I didn’t know who else to tell."

Y/N’s expression turned stoic. "Dr. Langdon is my boyfriend. You didn't know that, but now you do. That doesn't make me blind to his faults, it actually makes me hyperaware of them. But this is your first day. And unless you're sure of what you're accusing, you'd better keep this to yourself."

Y/N watched her eyes grow wide and her face ashen. She just accused Y/N's boyfriend of stealing drugs from the hospital...to her face. Santos felt like she wanted to melt into the floor and pretend the conversation never happened. "I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep or cause problems."

Y/N softened, just a little. "You don’t need to apologize. Just be 1000% sure."

The rest of the shift moved in a blur. Frank was quieter than usual, withdrawn. Y/N watched him like she was seeing him for the first time. His hand trembled when he signed off on a chart. He flinched at the overhead page. He winced when someone slammed a cabinet.

Was it stress?

Or something more?

At home that night, she found him on the balcony, both hands resting tightly on the railing. The city lights flickered below, but Frank looked like he was a million miles away.

"Rough day?" she asked.

He nodded but didn’t speak.

She stepped beside him, wrapping her arms around herself. "You want to talk about it?"

"Not really."

They stood in silence for a while.

Y/N looked at his profile, searching for the man she knew. But now she saw something different. The darkness under his eyes. The stiffness in his posture. The secrets curled beneath his skin.

She wanted to ask.

She wanted to scream.

But instead, she leaned her head on his shoulder and watched the lights.

Her mind was racing. Do I confront him? Do I dig? Do I destroy this bubble we’ve built?

Or do I let it go?

She didn’t have an answer.

Not yet.

And maybe she never would.

[nightwngz]

Oh my beloved, here's a little idea for you!

'Am I the asshole for dating my best friend's ex?' Where Barry absolutely couldn't let slip the opportunity to have Hal's pretty ex for himself, well, she doesn't belong to him anymore right?

Like, he sees that she's so sad because of the breakup and he's just so nice, gentle, kind with her, why not give him a chance? Barry knows that it must sucks to not have someone to kiss :(((

— 𝓔𝐱 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 ✩!!

barry allen x fem!reader

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀… Smut. Dirty talk. Fingering, p in v.

𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁. . . no copying of my work is allowed. Free translation is allowed as long as I am credited.

𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘂𝗮𝗴𝗲. . . as I said in my other posts, English is not my first language. I have tried to make corrections with the translator, but as you all know, it is prone to making mistakes, so I apologize in advance for any mistakes or if anything sounds weird.

𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲. . . Omg, omg! You practically read my mind because Barry is practically my current obsession. By the way, sorry for the delay, dear, I didn't quite know how to write it. 💗

Barry and Hal have always been best friends. They got along so well that even when you were dating Hal, it never occurred to you that Barry might betray his trust, not even if you suggested it yourself.

And after spending so much time going out with your friend and sharing dinners, lunches, and breakfasts, with a bit of a hangover in between, you started to think that Barry could also become a good friend for you.

Even after you broke up with Hal, Barry continued to stand by your side, supporting and indulging you.

Though you never suspected him of double-dealing, Barry remained neutral about your breakup. It's not that he didn't care about Hal; in fact, he had more than once questioned whether he was doing the wrong thing by approaching you, even after you and Hal had ended things.

But yes, he was a complete asshole for approaching you in the first place, and he was even more of an idiot for falling in love with his friend's girlfriend in the first place.

He had fantasized about Hal's girlfriend countless times, and many of those times he had to restrain the desire to touch himself by thinking of you, so as not to betray him.

But it wasn't until he saw you crying on the floor of your apartment with a bottle of alcohol in your hand that he realized you were no longer his best friend's girlfriend. The relationship had ended, and although you were still dealing with the aftermath of the breakup, there was nothing that alcohol and other distractions couldn't alleviate.

"Hal is my friend, but sometimes he can be a real jerk. Don't worry, if you need to vent, go ahead," he suggested, trying to be friendly.

However, when you took his lips without permission as a means of release, Barry neither objected nor resisted. He thought that given your situation, it must be terrible not to have anyone to kiss.

Sad thoughts about Hal vanished the moment Barry's tongue entered your mouth. Maybe it was just what you needed to forget, since not even he, as your ex's best friend, seemed to care what Hal might think, and even less so did you.

Barry had inevitably thought of Hal. He couldn’t help but remember his friend while his ex-girlfriend’s tongue slid into his mouth and he felt her hips moving until she was straddling his belt. However, he didn’t stop; in fact, the thought that she no longer belonged to him crossed his mind, which only drove him to continue.

It was too late to regret when he felt your hands sliding down his hips, pulling at his clothes. He couldn't resist pushing you onto your back, landing on top of you and pinning your body against the couch.

He kissed you desperately as if you were his last meal, holding you tight with his hands and his tongue on your mouth, exploring every inch of your skin that was still hidden under the fabric he hastily removed.

Even as he slid his fingers aside your underwear, without removing it completely, to enjoy caressing your wet crotch, he smiled. He knew he had what he so desperately wanted, like a whimsical child with his new toy.

"Did Hal miss out on all this? Too bad for him that now I have to take care of this tight pussy." He whispered in your ear with a grin, licking his fingers gently so you could hear the obscene sound close up.

And finally, when he got inside you so deeply that tears welled up in your eyes at the intrusion, you felt completely convinced that you had done the right thing by breaking up with Hal, something that Barry also agreed with. You smiled at the thought that he had taken advantage of the situation and looked at him, convinced that he had orchestrated the whole thing for his own benefit.

"Don't look at me like that, honey. It's not my fault that Hal missed how deliciously tight your pussy feels. . ."

[dyns33]

The Best Friend

We will have to wait for 2 years to see Homelander again so here's a little new series about him

After realizing that it wasn't really a good idea to raise a child in a laboratory by subjecting him to several tests that were more like torture than anything else, Doctor Vogelbaum decided to start the 'friend' project.

Arranging financially with orphanages, he brought in children whose absence no one would notice, in order to try to develop young John's social skills.

Of course, it wasn't really a success. Most of the children never made it out of the room alive, the others were saved at the last moment but in a catastrophic state, and the lucky ones managed to flee crying, only because John found them too annoying to chase after them.

Then, there was subject 8.

The youngest had no names, and since they were of no importance to anyone, including the doctors, they hadn't bothered to name them. So they introduced Subject 8 to John without much hope.

The little girl was placed on a chair in front of him. With big curious eyes, she watched him while chewing on a finger, but unlike most of her predecessors, she didn't seem afraid.

"Where's mommy ?" she asked timidly to the boy in front of her.

"I don't know. I don't have a mommy."

"Oh. They say mommy's dead, but I want mommy."

"… Your mom's dead ?"

Most of the children hadn't tried to talk to John, too frightened by the situation, then by his behavior. The others had made too much noise, had been rude, or had talked about subjects that didn't interest him.

Family was a complicated subject for the future Homelander. Abandonment too, the feeling of loneliness.

For the first time since the beginning of the 'friend' project, he looked at another human being with what seemed like empathy. Slowly, with a caution that no one suspected, he took the little girl in his arms.

"Don't worry, I'll take care of you now."

"Okay."

He called her Y/N. He had heard that name in one of the movies they showed to teach him how to become a superhero and he had found it pretty. According to him, it suited subject 8 perfectly, his best friend forever.

Like the children they were, they promised each other to be faithful and to stay together no matter what. Even if they weren't always together.

John didn't like having his Y/N taken from him. The first time a nurse had come to get the little girl to take her back to her cell, he had had a huge tamtrun, killing the poor woman.

Too young or having immediately had blind trust in the one who had said he would take care of her, Y/N had not been afraid, clinging to him while crying because she did not want to leave him.

Doctor Vogelbaum had spent several hours discussing with the boy so that he would agree to let her go, on the condition that he was assured that he would see her again the next day, and the following days after.

This incident scared the team, who wondered if they should not stop this project immediately, or if it was too late. But their leader was certain that it was a good thing, a new way of holding John.

If he behaved well, he would be able to see Y/N. If not, he would be punished.

This lasted for several years, until John's adolescence, the beginning of more intense exercises, and the choice of his future.

They should have known that this would happen. Raising a supe in a cage was one thing, but a little girl without powers, that couldn't last forever.

Doctor Hobbes refused to tell John the news. He had a hard time getting the other doctors to accept it.

"She was fine last night !"

"What can we do ?! Hobbes found her dead this morning, he tried to revive her, but nothing worked !"

"And the V?"

"I panicked…" sighed Doctor Hobbes. "I followed the protocol without thinking."

The protocol was simple. No proof, no problem, hence the importance of having a very powerful oven.

That day, Doctor Vogelbaum thought he was going to be killed by his creature for the first time in his life. He had never seen him in such a rage.

It was clear that John really loved Y/N. In a way, it was a success, proof that this thing was capable of feelings after all, even if he remained just as capable of the worst.

It took a lot of time and patience to heal this wound. No one was stupid enough to try to offer him a new friend. Nothing could have replaced Subject 8.

Homelander tried not to think about all this too much. In his dreams, the moments with Y/N ​​were the only happy ones, until they turned into a nightmare and he saw her dead in his arms.

The first person he had sworn to protect and hadn't saved. What a superhero.

After the revelation about Becca Butcher and his son, he asked Vogelbaum if he didn't have anything else to tell him. Another secret. But no, nothing. If the old man could, he would have kept Y/N alive as long as possible, just to have a chance to control him.

What Homelander had forgotten was that if people lied to him, they also lied to each other.

It took another four years, four years of pain, disappointment, loneliness, for him to have fun searching Barbara's office after visiting the whole new team of doctors.

Among all the files, projects, photos, he recognized Doctor Hobbes. He had retired a little before Vogelbaum, and in the photo, he could be seen next to a young girl, holding her by the shoulder as if she were his daughter.

Except she wasn't his daughter. She wasn't his at all.

"John ?" was the first thing Y/N said, smiling when she opened the door to find Homelander.

She didn't look surprised. Nor scared. She invited him in with a certain cheerfulness that no one displayed in Homelander's presence, especially knowing what he was truly capable of.

And Y/N knew it well, she had grown up with him.

"I'm so glad to see you ! Doctor Hobbes wouldn't let me contact you, he said it wouldn't be good for your career. He's dead, but I thought maybe he was right. I didn't want to bother you, you must be so busy. I didn't think you'd want to see me again."

"… They told me you were dead."

"Yes, I know." she sighed sadly, though she kept her smile. "Doctor Hobbes was selfish. I reminded him of his daughter, whom he lost in a car accident. He saw the opportunity to take me away, saying it would be better for me to be free. Except he kept me here, a new cage. At least he was kind enough to make me fake papers and adopt me before he died…"

"You wanted to leave."

"No ! No, I wanted to stay with you… He said you were going to become important, do important things, and that I would be a burden. It's true after all, like you say, I'm one of the mud people…"

"You're not a mud person !"

He had yelled like he had yelled at everyone for a long time now, but John immediately felt bad. He had never yelled at Y/N, never. He had promised not to hurt her.

It was surprising to see that she hadn't jumped, and that she still wasn't afraid. On the contrary, she only looked sorry for him, coming to sit next to him, putting a hand on his.

"I'm sorry, John. I should have tried to contact you. You would have told me if you didn't want me."

"I will always want you." he sobbed with shame. "You were everything to me ! My Y/N. The only good thing in this damn lab, the only one who cared about me, who comforted me when I came back from the bad room. I told myself… I told myself that I shouldn't get attached to humans after you. Because they're so fragile, so easy to lose."

"I'm here. I'm here as long as you want me."

She was sincere, her heart proved it. Her eyes were looking at him exactly as they had before she disappeared from his life.

With anyone else, John would have doubted. After everything he'd been through, the voices in his head could have told him to test the limits, to break her neck, to make fun of her.

But all he heard was 'Y/N is here ! She's back, she's alive ! Our Y/N ! Do better this time, protect her, don't lose her, tiger !'

When he took her in his arms and she tenderly returned his embrace, he felt what he was missing with Madelyn, with Stormfront, with Becca, with all the people around him.

He finally felt complete. Happy.

And for once, Homelander was going to do everything not to ruin everything.

[604to647]

Until Noon

1.1K / Detective Tim Rockford x fem!reader

Summary: You make Tim go back to bed.

Warnings: None – all fluff!  Soft and Sleepy!Tim.  Established relationship. Nicknames per usual (Shutterbug, baby).

A/N: Thank you to everyone who reads The Rockford Portfolio – I appreciate it so much! 😭 As always, each story can be read alone, but this one can follow At First Light (or Skittles, or just any night where Tim comes to you after working late/overnight).

Photography inspired dividers by @saradika-graphics💕 / Series Masterlist

The bright sun streams into your bedroom harsh and unforgiving, causing you to squint your eyes open.  Instinctively, your body attempts to shift away from the offending light, but you seem to be restrained by a heavy, immovable arm that drapes across your chest.  As your sleepy fog starts to lift, you smile when you look back and see the handsome man to which said arm is attached.  Your sweet Tim.  Currently snoring peacefully with his face buried in your pillow, his own pillow long abandoned on the far side of the bed in favour of migrating towards the warmth and sweet scent of yours while you both slept.

His soft purrs, indicative of his deep slumber, warm your heart.  If anyone deserves uninterrupted, restful sleep, it’s Detective Tim Rockford; you’re so immensely proud of how dedicated he is to his work and the way the LAPD finds him indispensable.  But while Tim is more than competent at a great many things, one thing he does not have within his impressive skill set is the ability to refuse a call to duty.  Even Tim would concede that he sometimes worked too much; on more than one occasion, his sense of honour and incredible work ethic has pulled him from the safety of your bed at an ungodly hour, or returned him to you physically tired and mentally drained.  Oftentimes, both.

You’re going to make sure Tim gets the rest he needs today.

With a level of difficulty that recalls Hercules’ Twelve Labours, you very gently you lift Tim’s arm, heavy with sleep, off your body without disturbing him.  Finally able to slide out of bed, you close the blinds so that the room once again darkens; though a poor approximation of the night’s shadow, it will have to do – at the very least, it will be easier for Tim to catch up on his sleep without the cheery morning sun threatening to stun him awake.

Eventually padding into the kitchen after having freshened up and pulled on one of Tim’s favourite t-shirts, you get to work – you think you’ll make both of you some breakfast, then read your book while waiting for Tim to awaken.  Scratch that - you’re not going to make him breakfast.  You’re going to make him lunch - doing what you can to manifest Tim not getting up for a few more hours at least.

Humming to yourself, you finish all your prep for the two meals and have just cracked an egg into the pan when you hear a heavy shuffling of feet behind you and the low deep yawn of one very exhausted Detective Tim Rockford.

“Morning, Shutterb-,” he croaks, cut off by another yawn climbing over his words.

“Tim, baby,” you go to your hardworking boyfriend and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling his head onto your shoulder; though you rub his back soothingly, your tone is disapproving, “You should be sleeping, Detective.”

“Can’t sleep without you,” he mumbles, still half unconscious.

“Awwww… poor baby,” you soften when you feel Tim drop the weight of his fatigue onto you; his hulking frame is overwhelming, but you do what you can support him.  Chuckling, you run your hands through his soft curls, massaging soft circles into his scalp with your fingers; your heart sings a little when you hear him groan in satisfaction, “How did you used to sleep before you met me?”

Tim shrugs, “Didn’t sleep.”  His answer is flippant with no real substance to it, but you suspect there is some degree of truth behind the words.  Your heart breaks a little, ready to acquiesce to anything he asks of you – Tim deserves the world.

“Okay, Detective.  Tell you what, this is what we’re going to do: you’re going to go back to bed right now,” at this Tim starts to grunt in protest, but you stop him with a kindly but firm tut from the back of your throat.

“I’m going to finish making my breakfast and get some things together for your lunch.  Then I’ll bring my breakfast and coffee to bed and read while you sleep next to me.  But,” you crouch down so that Tim is forced to look you in the eye, “you have to promise to sleep until noon.”

“And you’ll stay in bed with me the whole time?”

“Yes, baby.”

“Then I promise, Shutterbug.”

You give your book to Tim and send him off with a loving kiss to his lips and a gentle push in the direction of the bedroom; watching as he lumbers down the hall slowly.

When you finally make it back to the bedroom, steaming cup of coffee in one hand and plated breakfast sandwich in the other, you expect to see your handsome detective conked out and invading your side of the bed as usual, but instead,

“Timothy!”

A pair of guilty eyes, partially hidden behind Tim’s reading glasses, flit up and meet yours – caught in the act of reading your book instead of sleeping, Tim smiles sheepishly at you, “I haven’t read this one yet, baby.” He holds up the Agatha Christie, as if to somehow blame the book for his mischief.  You place you breakfast on your bedside table and climb into bed before gently removing Tim’s glasses from his face and your book from his hand.  Putting these distractions down out of his reach, you then place your small hands on the rounds of Tim’s shoulders and deliberately push down so that he starts to sink back into a laying position.

You press a long, tender kiss to his lips, one so full of devotion and warmth that it induces Tim to close his eyes, all his muscles instantly relaxing as he melts into the mattress.  Satisfied, you coo, “Sleep, baby.”

Waiting until you’ve settled into a comfortable reading position, Tim wraps his arms around your leg and holds on like a koala, pressing his cheek into your softness of your hip.  With one hand you pick up your book, the other you lay gently on Tim’s back – lulling him towards dreamland by tracing delicate and calming patterns up and down his spine and neck.

Tim sighs a contented sigh and murmurs into your leg, “Thank you for taking care of me, Shutterbug.”

Before you can tell Tim that there’s nothing to thank you for, that you love doing things for him, you love him, and moreover, he gives you so much – making you feel so loved, appreciated, adored, the very least you can do is try to take care of him after he comes home from taking care of the whole city, you hear his breathing even and the unmistakeable sound of Detective Rockford finally snoozing peacefully.

Gazing down at the man you love, part of you wishes Tim could always be like this: soft, safe, unguarded - but then he wouldn’t be the noble man you adore. What you can do is sit sentry by your detective’s side, protecting his respite from the big bad outside these walls for as long as you’re allowed to have him like this - until noon at least.

“Sweet dreams, Detective Rockford.” 

[honey-on-your-tongue]

FWB

Part 7 Logan Howlett x fem!reader Series masterlist

There isn't much Logan has going for him. He's been a mess his whole life, he knows that. He feels it. He might not have the memories, but the emotions stick with him. And he knows that this desperation, this fear of people comes from long before. And so does the need to not be alone.

But those two needs contradict each other. He's afraid of letting people in, so he eventually ends up on his own. No matter how hard he tries.

And he knows that's what happened with you. He wants you with him, he needs you, but he's just so afraid. How is he going to let you in? What if you see him for who he is and you backtrack? What if you hate him? What if you're scared of him? He wouldn't be able to take the rejection, not from you. He thinks it's better to not risk it at all.

And he kind of hates himself for it. But it's his instinct, his only way of protecting himself.

So he avoids you. Ever since that night in the kitchen, he makes sure not to run into you. Partly, because he's afraid he'll want you, that he'll give in and beg you for forgiveness and risk himself getting hurt. But also, because he can't stand to see that look in your eyes. The look he put there. The pain, the betrayal…

His stomach churns just at the memory of the way you looked at him, broken, vulnerable. It stings worse than any wound he's ever endured.

Naturally, Logan ends up in some stupid bar, drinking more than he can handle. And by some form or another, he ends up at the payphone outside, dialing the number he'd sworn he'd never memorized.

It was past midnight, he knew that much, and he wasn't expecting an answer. Until the line clicked to life.

“Hello?”

For a moment, he's frozen. It's been weeks since your voice has been directed at him and he's not sure how to react.

“I can't drive home,” is all he manages, pinching the bridge of his nose.

There's a pause on the line. A long pause. “Logan?” you eventually ask.

Right about now, he's thinking he should've called anyone else. And instead he called you.

“Yeah,” he replies. “I'm sorry. I just. I can't drive back home.”

You exhale sharply and he knows what's coming. So before you can deny him, he quietly adds, “Please.”

The silence that follows is so long, that he's not sure if you already hung up. But he waits anyway.

“Where are you?” you ask eventually. Relieved, he glances around, trying to locate where he is. Once he manages that, he tells you where he is.

A while later, when you arrive and he sees you, his whole world stops. It freezes and he just…He can't believe himself. How much stupider can he get? He had you, you wonderful, sweet, intelligent, funny, caring, gorgeous girl. And he fucked it up? What's wrong with him?

He stands on the sidewalk like an idiot for a few seconds, just gaping, until you honk the horn. He’s jerked back to himself and he walks to the car, climbing into the passenger seat.

“Thank you,” is the first thing he says as he buckles up.

“Yeah,” you reply nonchalantly, but he can hear your heart racing. Or is it his? He’s not exactly sure.

You start driving back home, looking exhausted, and he feels guilty. But he’s more selfish than empathetic, and he’s damn glad you came to find him.

The drive is quiet, the radio occasionally letting out low strings of a song. Neither of you says or does anything besides just sit there.

The tension is thick, uncomfortable, like you’re both too aware of one another. And Logan just wishes it would go away, that he could reach over and grab your hand, touch your thigh, brush your hair off your face without you pushing him away. He wishes he still had the right to feel you that way, to call you his, even if only a little.

It’s eating at him. The memories, the feeling of you under him, the soft lilt of your voice as you’d talk to each other late at night…

His chest aches, it feels tight, and he suspects he might die if he doesn’t get the words out.

“I’m sorry,” he says finally, daring to look at you. “I’m so sorry.”

At first, you just frown, the gentle crease between your eyebrows making him more nervous. After a while, you glance at him for a second before your eyes return to the road. “What for?”

You’re not saying it as if there’s nothing for him to worry about. You want him to answer honestly, want him to explain to you, want him to admit that he fucked up.

And Logan is a proud, reserved man. But he misses you more.

“About everything. About leaving that day, about the way I treated you, about disappearing and about not saying sorry the second I got back,” he says. “I’m sorry I hurt you, and I’m sorry I ever let this happen knowing myself. I…I shouldn’t have. I should’ve left you alone, let you be, but instead I dragged you into…into the mess I am and I hurt you, and that’s just selfish. I’m so selfish about you. I want you to myself, I want to keep you, I want to hold you because you make me feel safe and you make me feel alive and you make me feel loved. And you gave all of that with so much ease, without any restraint, and I just…I let myself believe I deserved that. And I hurt you because of that. And I…” He takes a breath, hesitates, then corrects his words. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

-

You’re listening attentively, your heart racing. And when he stops talking, you wait a moment. You reach out, try to search his mind for any unsaid words. And what you find almost knocks you off your feet.

You brake hard, making the car jolt to a stop harshly. Logan braces himself on the dashboard and glances at you, eyes wide. “What?”

You just stare at him, heart beating hard, blood rushing in your ears. You just stare at him, your eyes on him. “Say it.”

You see the realization on his face. His eyes flicker around nervously, his throat bobs as he swallows thickly.

You wait, just staring at him, waiting for him to say it.

He takes a breath, steadies himself. He won’t lose you again.

He holds your gaze and softly says, “I love you.”

---

Taglist

@nerrivm @rosiahills22 @d3vils-adv0c8 @thychuvaluswife @18lkpeters @daddy333 @e-nonsense @ch3rryblossms @ayamenimthiriel @thesecretlifeofmo @simming4sims @raideaters-blog @1cam8 @angelicbbsblog @giuliahowlett @lemonsquaredd @meadow-field @secretpandaconnoisseur @givenoutlaw @wunder-blunder @aredheadednerd @fictionalmen-dilflover @insanesociopath @m1cky-y-y @fictional-hooman @ion-even-know @znerac @steviebbboi @insanesosciopath @reidsworld @arrozconpepitoria @meadow-field @sir-thisisadndserver @wolviesgirl @rooroen @tezooks @nervousmumbling @sowhatariyana @mikyapixie @breezeybre @andmuzzlethat 

---

Blog masterlist

[fight-nights-at-freddys]

To the comment of "oh proshippers get called groomers cuz actual groomers are there", i was groomed by an anti, ive seen countless cases with friends and alike of antis grooming kids, and antis do not give the proper advice on how to avoid this grooming to happen, they just say "proship gonna groom you, we wont, we are good, trust us" causing more grooming to happen, while proshippers actually share sources and alike that can actually help make kids aware that anyone can be a groomer even if they make themselves super trusted.

Do i go around saying antis deserve to be called groomers? No, but I sure as hell go around saying that antis behave like they can do no evil and that pedophilia just physically cant exist in their group

Newsflash antis, pedophiles (who actually cause long term grooming harm, unlike those who luckily usually only get away with short term grooming) tend to be clever about it, they do not tend to go into the group that already had fingers pointed at them, they take part in the groups that are pointing the fingers and all they gotta do to make people trust em is make 1-2 posts shaming fiction and boom, everyone trusts them to be against IRL pedophilia

Let me yell it for the people in the back, PEDOPHILES DO A CRIME, TO DO A CRIME YOU MOST OFTEN CANT GET AWAY WITH IT WITHOUT BEING IN THE SHADOW, AND THE SHADOW OF BLIND TRUST IS THE MOST EFFECTIVE.

Proshippers are engouraged to not follow a mob mentality and not trust every callout or drama, but instead to do their own research even if its minimal, for an anti? If you so not blindly trust a callout or drama, you are a horrible person, you HAVE to agree or youll be called a pedo yourself or even loose multiple friends.

Idk, im currently sick so this might be a bit of a messy point, but as someone who was groomed by an anti for multiple years and is still effected by that trauma almost a decade later, it sickens me when antis completely brush aside the "blindly trust us or we will harass you" narrative on their group that caused me and many others to blindly trust pedos and get groomed, and instead say "you guys basically deserve to get called groomers cuz it happens so often!!!", if anything id say the fact that we can point at these schenarios and say "they happened and that's bad" is so much better then so many of the countless grooming cases done by antis that werent discovered until it was too late to undo the damage.

Again, im really sick so this ask is probably a mess or repeating stuff and alike, so lemme try and give a TLDR:

Pedo Antis get away with grooming far more often then pedo Proshippers due to their rule of "blindly trust us or get punished", that and the pedophilic Anti in question can easily push senseless shame onto the victim due to how normalized it is with anti spaces.

(small caveat: being a pedophile doesn't inherently make you a predator, but i get what you're saying)

"Newsflash antis, pedophiles (who actually cause long term grooming harm, unlike those who luckily usually only get away with short term grooming) tend to be clever about it, they do not tend to go into the group that already had fingers pointed at them, they take part in the groups that are pointing the fingers and all they gotta do to make people trust em is make 1-2 posts shaming fiction and boom, everyone trusts them to be against IRL pedophilia"

THIS THIS THIS why on god's green earth would a predator go into communities that others already expect there to be predators? a predator is MORE likely to go into spaces where they can look like the "safe" person, and pretend to be against those "evil nasty [insert other community here]" to build up there reputation so no one would suspect them!

antis have unfortunately built a safe space for predators, and refuse to acknowledge it because *some* proshippers like dark fiction.

also allow me to just add some links of antis ending up being predators because i'm petty like that... (imgur thread)(kyle A carrozza)(1)(2)(3a 3b)(4)(5)(6)

[neurotica-tales]

Yandere Tuffnut Headcanon

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

Up Next: Yandere Astrid Headcanon, Yandere Hiccup Headcanon

To find my masterlist, click HERE.

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

At first glance, Tuffnut seems like the last person you’d suspect of harboring something as deep, dark, and all-consuming as obsessive love.

He’s loud, chaotic, unpredictable, and rarely serious for longer than a breath. He’s Berk’s walking disaster—a blur of feathers, fish guts, and theories about chicken conspiracies. Because of all this, it's no wonder people prefer to stay clear of him in case they get caught up in one of his escapades again.

So when you started seeing more of him after that one moment of kindness—you chalked it up to him just being friendly. Grateful. Curious about someone who treated him like more than a joke for once.

But the truth runs deeper. That moment was the beginning of a seismic shift in his entire world.

Because the thing is… Tuffnut doesn’t form normal attachments.

He latches.

Fixates.

Bonds.

He doesn't fall in love—he gets sucked into it like it’s a vortex that consumes his every thought. It’s not that he decides to love you. It’s that he suddenly realizes he already does.

Fully.

Entirely.

He can’t understand why he didn’t see it sooner. You were always there. You always could have been the one. The only one. And now that he knows… he can’t un-know it.

And that scares him.

Because love—real love—isn't something he's ever known how to manage. But losing it?

Losing you?

That’s a fear so intense it gets under his skin like a rash. Constant. Itchy. Clawing at him until he can't sit still.

So he acts.

Erratically. Obsessively. Affectionately.

All hidden under the guise of goofiness.

But make no mistake. Behind that goofiness lies a more dangerous truth: Tuffnut has made you the center of his universe.

And unlike other obsessive types, he doesn’t try to hide it with elegance or feigned detachment.

No.

Tuffnut embraces it. He lives inside his feelings for you like they’re a new religion.

He starts showing up everywhere.

At first, it seems random—chaotic. But over time, you start realizing he’s always just there. In the woods when you're training. Outside your door when you're late. Perched on your roof with a bucket of water when you're cleaning. Always in the right place at the right time. Too often.

He calls it coincidence. Or “Tuff-sense.” But it’s not.

He memorized your schedule. He follows your routines. He shadows your dragon rides from a distance, even if he has to cling to the tail of a Barf and Belch to do it.

And despite him doing all that, you don't notice his true intentions at all, the reason being that Tuffnut is a master of masking madness in absurdity.

He gets away with too much because nobody takes him seriously. So when he stares too long, people laugh it off. When he carves your name into wood and wears it around his neck, they assume it’s another one of his “rituals.” When he builds a scarecrow version of you in his chicken pen “so the hens stay calm,” no one bats an eye.

And when you joke about him being a little too attached, he laughs—loud, sincere—and says something ridiculous, like,

“I’m already planning our chicken-themed wedding. You’ll love it. The flower girl is a goat.”

You laugh, too.

Because it’s Tuffnut.

Tuffnut isn’t the type to say, “You’re mine,” directly. He’s the type to act like you’re already his—like it’s a foregone conclusion. He inserts himself into your life so deeply and so frequently that it starts to feel wrong when he’s not around.

You start to rely on him without realizing it.

He’s the one who reminds you to eat. Who repairs things you didn’t ask him to fix. Who knows when you're stressed even if you haven’t said a word.

He conditions you to expect his presence. His help. His comfort. And slowly, without understanding how it happened, you begin to feel like you need him.

Which is exactly what he wants.

And when anything—or anyone—threatens that bond?

He doesn’t lash out. He sabotages you using that warped logic of his, the same thing that fuels everything else he does.

He does it quietly.

Cunningly.

Like the saddle straps that mysteriously vanish the day before you plan to leave. The dragon growing agitated from the scent of something strange in the hay. The invisible hand that seems to rearrange events to keep you close. Because Tuffnut doesn’t want to control you through fear.

He wants it to feel like fate that you stay.

And the crazy part? It works—really well. Because no one ever suspects Tuffnut.

He’s just the village idiot, right? Too loud. Too weird. Too stupid to pull off anything complex. But that’s the thing everyone misses. Buried beneath the feathers and nonsense is that 1% of pure, terrifying genius.

The kind that doesn’t just outsmart you—

It blindsides you.

Overall, Tuffnut’s yandere tendencies are smothered in absurdity, making them difficult to detect until it’s far too late.

He’ll never raise a blade to you. He doesn’t want to hurt you. But he’s not above manipulating your environment, sabotaging your plans, or guilt-tripping you into staying.

His devotion is absolute. His love is fierce. His methods? Bizarre. But effective.

Because at the end of the day, Tuffnut isn’t trying to trap you. He’s trying to become so essential that the idea of leaving him feels like cutting off your own hand.

And the scariest part?

No one ever suspects a thing.

[eldritch-alicedoll]

Diasomnia Boy gift s/o an evening gown to attend the NRC & RSA ball tgt Headcanon

Following from my dress sketch design if you haven’t seen it here . They are base from Glorious Masquerade & Playful land events. Basically a sequence I imagine while drawing the dresses XD I also want to mention that when it’s finish 🥺 you can draw it on your oc and even tweak a bit detail to fit your Yuu or OC. It’s meant to be share with everyone, not just my Yuu.

⚠️ Bad English……. I have no idea what is grammar . 😂

╭══• ೋ•✧๑♡๑✧•ೋ •══╮

Imagine a ball between NRC and RSA happening maybe sometime after chapter 7. All students are invited but you are troubling since you have no dress to wear. And for the love of the great seven. Your beloved head master, Crowley just allowed you to join in your NRC uniform……….. great! So much for your kindness!!

Guess who will be the photographer and a background character on this event…..hahaha………

Well maybe you whine too much in front of the wishing well. Someone comes up with a plan. A plan that would make you believe in a fairytale once again!

╰══• ೋ•✧๑♡๑✧•ೋ •══╯

𝔐𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔢𝔲𝔰 🐉

You had to be blind to not suspect anything……

Lately Mal is a bit touchy. Not that he isn’t normally but this is different. Sometimes he holds your wrist while mumbles something while going on a night stroll. Sometimes he stares at you and gets lost in his thoughts. He even stands just in front of you and tries to lift you up once.

You are so confused and a bit embarrassed when he asks about your height so you call for support. The Diasomnia’s family counselor aka. Lilia Vanrouge. You went all the way to Diasomnia dorm without telling anyone and sneak in to see Lilia.

But

…….

…..

…………

Is he………….

Is he dancing with a dress just now??

Surprisingly you just witness your dragon boyfriend practicing a dance with a beautiful dress. He hummed ‘that song’ while spinning with the dress. What a beautiful princess gown with dark green silk. It looks so shiny and smooth, something that would delicately touch her skin while being held in that big palm. Imagine how soft that hand craft lace feels when on your chest. He did not spare any piece of jewellery from his procession. He keep bring in dazzling earrings and necklaces to test it with the gown. He would have use the heart of his collection to craft a piece of accessories for you if he doesn’t want to save it for something later in the year. You can see a magical golden thread and needle weaving delicate patterns on the skirt as he continues the dance. Every angle……Every turn………..Malleus is creating a masterpiece. He did it………..for you…….for his princess.

Your face is burning from the love of this dragon fae. Why does he have to put so much effort into it.

Oh no………now you a mess

You open the Pandora box too early and now you have to live with it while pretending not to know a thing until the day. You bit your lip as Mal smoothly tug a strain of hair behind your ears. You can now understand what he mumbles about……rose gold? Sunshine gold? May be one of his grandma’s jewellery set?? (Oh god no…….that’s tooo far for the first gown Mal lol)

Your heart beat so fast until the evening of the event. Malleus play cool by teasing you and being a nice partner who prepare a gift for you.

Boom! You are now in a matching dress. So those Raven feathers on the hip are supposed to match his shoulder then ah………..you are about to take off the veil since it looks like a bride. Before Malleus could turn grumpy…..Sebek yell and lecturing you about how talented Wakasama are! You human dare to question his sense of fashion? Outrageous! Just because he love you doesn’t mean you can ruin his days of afford to perfect this dress

Woops………tongue slip

Well it’s not like you never know anyway. Just pretend to be surprise so Sebek won’t get a lightning strike okay?

Bonus : she doesn’t want to point out that when she accidentally saw Malleus weaving that dress……. his tail wagging. It’s a secret she gonna take to her grave though

Bonus 2 : Lilia does notice that and brag about how adorable Malleus is. How Malleus has grown to fit in the society in front of the other dorm leader………..Oopsie

Bonus 3 : Malleus learn the hard way not to miss the meeting

𝕷𝖎𝖑𝖎𝖆 🦇

Have you heard of the story of the fairy godmother in Cinderella? Well he won’t just roll out and sing bib bi di bub bi di bo and bang! A nice new dress for you. The old man planned while cuddling you in bed……in sofa…..in the gaming chair(?)

He pretends to be busy with something and hasn't listened to you. Even play dumb and say you look cute in the school uniform. Well it’s not totally a lie since he thinks it’s adorable. Why would he poke on your cheek and nibble your neck while you are in your uniform if it’s not because you are so cute to him.

The truth is, this old bat is as excited as you. He lived through the war time and never got a chance to enjoy a leisure party before. Well it’s just a joint event of 2 schools. It can't compare with how grand the royal ball of the Briar valley held a ball but this is the first time he is going to have his lover join him. He doesn’t have to be alert from enemies. Doesn’t have to command his subordinates to search all the parties involved in this event. Just lay back enjoy the day with you.

He had been trying to recreate that dress in his memories just for you. It was around……..hundred? Two hundred?? Year ago??? He walked past this girl on the street and was stunned by her attire. It’s an elegant dress with black velvet and green emerald. Soft flare neckline covered the black corset. Enough skin to show your radiant but not too much.

Well, He was allowed to give you some hickeys before the day of the ball. It got enough fabric to cover all his naughtiness. Wink*

However he was troubled with the skirt since he only remembered just part of it flowing past him. He argued if it’s short or long skirt. He was going back and forth and even tried to summon multiple dresses to compare them…….Then before the final day. He just uses his sense of style to bring it together. Of cause ! Who do you think he is, if not the cutest boy in NRC ? (Self proclaimed……)

He smiles so proudly with your flushed cheek as he teases you. As you put on a golden belt with a bat and thorn on. This is the perfect dress for you. His baby bat. He should had prepare a ring for this big day but well…….there are plenty time for that

Bonus : He pick a perfume for you today and as you dance with him on the floor. It’s totally Lilia’s scent///

This is very long………..more than I expected

I’ll continue Silver & Sebek in part 2 then 😂 sorry I’m so into it with my oshi! I’ll try pack in other dorm in one post! Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoy!!

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

This one's probably a hard one but: Vanilla + SVE bachelors with a farmer who has the fear of dying/thanatophobia/death itself? Curious what you'd do with this!

Oh, heavy topic...

Thanks for the ask, dear anon!

⚠️ Warning: mention of death, mention of attempted suicide, mention of war.

_________________________________________

Stardew Valley

Harvey:

Near-death experiences almost always leave a scar in a person's mental health. Harvey suspected that after the emergency operation he had performed on Farmer, severely wounded in the Mines, his friend and patient would have to recover not only their physical health, but their mental health as well. And he was right (and hoped he was wrong): Farmer began to suffer from insomnia, panic attacks, and avoid all places that could be associated with death, even the Harvey's Clinic. The doctor will give Farmer the contact of a therapist he knows well who can help them with their phobia, and offers his support and help too.

Sam:

Young and perpetually energetic Sam used to think little of death until his father left to defend the Republic, with the likelihood of not returning. Frowning thoughts began to visit him more, but the guitarist still chased them away, trying to think only of good things. Farmer, who is so panic-stricken about death and all the news about death-related events, caught Sammy off guard. He wants to help Farmer, but doesn't know how. Maybe he can ask Harvey for advice. But he's always willing to help Farmer at least calm down if they get caught in a panic attack. And will also try not to mention the war news in front of them, so as not to trigger them.

Shane:

Damn... How Shane can feel their pain and struggle. When he woke up in the clinic, remembering his (thankfully) failed jump, it was his fear of death that made him stop. Although it saved his life, he was terrified of death afterwards, walking around depressed, afraid of ending without knowing what came next, and afraid of dying and leaving Jas, who had already lost her parents before. But Shane was able to control himself, not without the help of his family and Farmer, of course. So he will not abandon a close friend when they are suffering. One word - therapy: it helped him, and it would help them too.

Elliott:

Some anxiety about death is a perfectly normal part of the human condition, is it not? A question that sooner or later arises for a person, forcing them to look for answers in philosophy, religion, or elsewhere. But Elliott sees that Farmer's abnormal fear of death is preventing them from the most important thing of all: enjoying life. The writer will be careful to approach Farmer with help, as he doesn't have the right knowledge and is afraid of triggering a panic attack in them with the wrong words. Harvey should know the contacts of the right people, plus Elliott will ask around his acquaintances. All in all, he won't leave his friend alone with a problem.

Alex:

Alex had to face death at a young age when his mom passed away. The poor kid, who lost his family so suddenly, later grieved not only for mother, but also had a fear that his grandparents would also pass away (they were already old at that time). Then he received help, but about the very subject of death the athlete did not tell anyone except his grandma and grandpa, not wanting to appear weak and tearful. But Farmer listened and supported Alex, even though Alex told them about his late mother, and the subject of death scares them to death. They have not abandoned Alex, and he will try to listen to them and help them as he knows how, either in word or deed - anything.

Sebastian:

Standing by the railroad or on the sandy shore, Sebastian had thought more than once about death: was there really an afterlife, would anyone remember him when he passed away, was there any chance that he would become a ghost after death? But these were just his thoughts, and local emo didn't expect a harsh reaction from Farmer when he casually mentioned one of this questions. He didn't mean to offend or scare them, but... this behavior wasn't right. Sebby would try to ask Farmer if they're okay, trying his best to help them, but for now he would leave them alone, not wanting to make the situation worse.

Stardew Valley Expanded

Lance:

Death, the threat of which accompanies the adventurer throughout their life, ceases to be their fear. This is explained to every would-be monster hunter in every guild from the very beginning of their journey. It has been explained to Lance as well, and he is ready to throw himself into the defence of humans without fear of death. Farmer became an adventurer much later, and judging by their reactions, no one prepared them for such a thing. The gallant adventurer would try to help his friend, but if this continued and hindered Farmer in battle, then... He would advise Farmer to postpone position as adventurer, and concentrate on their own mental wellbeing.

Victor:

Victor ran around in a panic looking for sedatives in his house, not at all expecting that the tv news program would gave Farmer a panic attack. When the spaghetti lover was able to calm his friend down, Farmer explained to him that the news about the massive loss of life due to the war had triggered them, and began apologizing to Victor. To which he stopped them, telling them that they had nothing to apologize for. Such news can... indeed make a person really sad. Victor advised them to go to Dr. Harvey for help, and told them that his house was always open and he was ready to receive and listen to them.

Magnus Rasmodius:

Death is a natural, inevitable occurrence, and Magnus, who is of a respectable age and has begun to prepare for his end by leaving a legacy for his pupil, no longer fears death. But he can understand the fear of the young Farmer, especially after their near-death experience in Mines. Magnus... isn't the best at talking, but he will do his best to comfort Farmer and explain to them about the concept of death, trying to help them deal with their fear. If his words weren't enough, well... Then he might suggest Farmer turn to Linus, with his wisdom, or the local doctor. Not that the Wizard doesn't care, it's just that he doesn't quite know how to help his friend with this.

[rovasdiary]

annaka fourneret x fem!reader . ✧.*

warnings: a lot of angst, homophobic parents, swearing i think, crying, arguing (sorry guys..)

𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐎𝐑 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆

you always knew love wasn’t going to be easy for you. not because it was wrong—not because it felt wrong—but the people who raised you made you believe it should be.

your parents taught you early on that there were things that simply weren’t allowed in their house. “lifestyle choices,” they called them. “confusion,” they whispered. you learned how to smile through it. how to nod along. how to feel your own heart breaking in silence.

and then there was annaka.

she had the brightest smile and the loudest laugh. she walked into a room like she knew exactly who she was and dared anyone to question it. she was confidence, chaos, and light—and somehow she say you.

you hadn’t meant to fall for her, but it happened quietly. in the way her hand brushed yours when no one was looking. in the way her eyes softened when she said your name. in the way she whispered, “its okay. we don’t have to tell anyone. just when you’re ready.”

and for a while, that was enough.

your bedroom was the safest place you had. the door was closed, a cd playing softly in the background. annaka was sitting cross-legged on your bed, wearing one of your oversized hoodies. her hair still wet from the rain outside. you were lying beside her, shoulder to shoulder, sharing a bowl of popcorn and talking about nothing and everything.

“i think my mom suspects something,” annaka said suddenly, glancing at you.

you stiffened. “did she say anything?”

“no,” she said with a shrug. “just a look. you know that mom-look. but i’m not worried, we’re careful.”

you wanted to say we shouldn’t have to be, but the words caught in your throat. you just nodded.

there was a pause, then annaka leaned in and pressed a gently kiss to your temple. “i’m proud of you. you know that, right?”

you closed your eyes. let yourself feel safe—for now.

you didn’t hear the footsteps until it was too late.

the door swung open without warning. your mom’s voice was sharp, “you didn’t answer when i called—“ then silence.

your mom’s eyes scanned the room. the closeness. the hoodie. the way you jumped apart like you’d been caught stealing.

“what’s going on here?” she asked coldly.

annaka stood up quickly, smoothing her hands down her jeans. “hi miss. i was just—”

but your mom didn’t respond to her. her gaze was fixed on you. ice-cold.

“is there something you need to tell me?”

your heart pounded so loud it echoed in your ears. annaka looked at you like she was ready to say something—do something—but she didn’t. this was your war.

you stood up slowly, like maybe if you didn’t move too fast, the tension wouldn’t snap like a rubber band. but your mom was already wound tight, and your silence only made it worse.

“i asked you a question,” she repeated, her voice sharper now. “is this what i think it is?”

annaka stepped forward. “maybe we should go downstairs. give her space.”

“no,” your mom snapped. “you don’t get to speak for her.”

you felt your throat tighten. shame burned through your skin, even though you weren’t ashamed. you were scared. terrified.

“she’s my girlfriend,” you said finally, the words cutting through the room like glass.

your mom’s face didn’t change right away. she just blinked, once, as if trying to make sense of the sentence. the her mouth curled, not in confusion—in disgust.

“you’re joking,” she said flatly. “tell me you’re joking.”

“i’m not,” you whispered. “i love her.”

that was the moment the quiet shattered.

your dad came up behind your mom, probably to see what the yelling was about. he caught the tail end of it, just in time for your mom to turn to him and say, “she said she’s in love with this girl.”

he looked at you. really looked at you. “you’re not serious. you’re not—that.”

annaka moved closer to you, just barely touching your hand. it was a silent message. i’m here. i’ve got you. but it only made things worse.

your dad’s voice rose. “get your hands off her.”

annaka froze. “sir, i didn’t mean—”

“get out,” your mom said, turning to her like a snake coiling for a strike. “you come into my house and—what? turn my daughter into this? is that what you people do now?”

“mom!” you said, louder this time “it’s not like that! she didn’t do anything—i fell in love with her. me.”

“you don’t know what love is.”

“yes, i do!” the tears came then, hot and fast. “i know exactly what it is. it’s not this. it’s not being afraid to exist in your own home. it’s not pretending every day so your parents won’t hate you!”

there was a beat of silence. your dad’s jaw clenched. your mom looked away like she couldn’t even stand to look at you anymore.

“you can’t stay here,” she said quietly.

you stared. “what?”

“you heard her,” your dad added “pack your things. if you want to throw your life away, do it somewhere else.”

annaka moved in front of you then, arms half-out like she was ready to fight. “you’re seriously kicking her outs she’s your daughter.”

“she stopped being our daughter the moment she chose this,” your dad snapped. “get out. both of you.”

fifteen minutes later, you were standing outside in the dark, your backpack slung over your shoulder, trying to keep your breathing steady.

annaka held your hand tightly as you walked down the street, her thumb rubbing small circles over your knuckles. neither of you said a word for a while.

it was only when you reached the park—the one a few blocks away with the creaky swings and a rusted slide—that you finally stopped walking.

you sat down on the cold metal bench, wrapping your arms around yourself. it was early spring, but the night air bit at your skin.

annaka sat beside you in silence, letting the quiet settle like a blanket.

“i knew this would happen eventually,” you whispered.

she turned to you slowly. “i was hoping it wouldn’t.”

you laugh bitterly. “i was stupid to think i could keep pretending forever.”

“no, you weren’t stupid.” she reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “you were surviving.”

you looked at her—really looked at her—and something in your chest cracked wide open.

“i don’t have anywhere to go.”

“you have me,” she said immediately. “you always have me.”

the tears came again. slower this time. sadder. “i wanted them to love me. even if they didn’t understand. i just… i thought maybe, deep down, they’d still pick me.”

annaka slid closer, wrapping her arms around you. you buried your face in her shoulder, gripping the front of her hoodie like it was the only thing keeping you from falling apart.

“i’m sorry,” she whispered, holding you so tightly. “i’m so, so sorry.”

“it’s not your fault.”

“no, but i hate that you’re hurting. i hate that you had to hide just to feel safe. that’s not fair.”

you pulled back slightly, eyes still glossy. “why are you so good to me?”

annaka smiled softly, brushing your cheek with the back of her hand. “because you’re everything i wanted, even if the world doesn’t get it yet.”

you leaned in, and she kissed you like you were fragile and precious and the most important thing in the world. her lips were warm, grounding, safe.

and for a moment, you didn’t feel broken. you just felt held.

the swing creaked beside you, pushed by the wind or maybe ghosts of memories that would never come back. you sat in the dark, leaning into annaka like she was the last safe place left in the world.

“do you think i’ll miss them?” you asked softly, after a few minutes of silence.

annaka glanced sideways, her expression unreadable. “i think you already do.”

you swallowed. “i want to hate them. but i just.. can’t turn it off.”

“love doesn’t work like a faucet.” she said gently. “even when it hurts, it doesn’t just stop.”

you nod, biting your lip to keep it from trembling. “they didn’t even hesitate, anna”

“i know.”

“they just… threw me away.”

annaka reached out and took your hand again, intertwining your fingers. her voice was low. “then we’ll build something better. something they can’t touch.”

you rested your head against her shoulder again. “i’m scared.”

“i am too.” she admitted. “but you don’t have to do this alone. okay? you’ve got me. every step.”

you sat there a little longer, letting the weight of everything settle on your shoulders—your old life gone, your heart racing, but her hand still in yours. still there.

eventually, she stood up and offered her hand. “come on. let’s go to my place.”

you stared at her. “won’t your parents freak out?”

she shook her head. “not like yours. they don’t exactly know, but they won’t kick you out. they care about me too much for that. and i’ll handle it, if it comes up. i promise.”

that word—promise—settled somewhere deep in your chest. you took her hand.

her house was quiet when you got there. she texted her mom something vague—“sleepover emergency”—and tiptoed you up to her room like you were on the run from the world. in a way, you were.

her room smelled like lavender body spray and popcorn. posters on the walls, pictures on set on her nightstand, a few dance trophies on her shelves. it was her, and right now, that meant it felt like home.

she gave you some sweatpants and a faded shirt to change into. you stated at yourself in the mirror for a long time afterward—like you were looking at a version of yourself that didn’t exist anymore.

“you okay?” she asked softly behind you.

you nodded slowly. “no.”

she stepped behind you and wrapped her arms around your waist, resting her chin on your shoulder. “then let’s just be not okay together tonight.”

later, the two of you curled up on her bed, the room lit only by a dim lamp and the glow of a half-watched movie you weren’t really paying attention to. you lay there, tangled up with her, forehead against her collarbone, her fingers running through your hair.

you hadn’t said much in the last hour. didn’t need to.

butt hen she broke the silence with something small and raw.

“you know i’ve loved you for a long time, right?”

you lifted your head slightly. “yeah?”

“i mean it. not just the way you smile, or how you make the best playlists, or the fact that you always cry at pixar movies—” she laughed gently—“but like, you. even the scared parts. even the ones that hurt.”

your eyes welled up again, not from sadness this time. from the ache of finally being seen.

“i love you too.” you whispered. “so much it feels like my chest is going to explode sometimes.”

she pulled you into her again, and for the first time that night, your tears were soft. healing. real.

the clock blinked 2:41 am when she whispered into the quiet.

“we’ll figure this out. i don’t care how long it takes, or how hard it gets. you’re not losing me, okay?”

you nodded against her.

you believed her.

for the first time all day you believed something.

the morning sun felt too soft for what had happened the night before.

it crept in through the cracks of annaka’s blinds, casting golden lines across your cheek, warming the skin still salty from dried tears. you blinked awake slowly, heart skipping as you remembered where you were.

not your room.

not your house.

not your life anymore.

but her arms were still around you. that was something.

annaka stirred beside you and blinked her eyes open. her voice was still heavy with sleep. “you okay?”

you didn’t answer right away. instead, you just nodded and curled closer, hiding your face against her neck. she held you tighter.

but the peace didn’t last.

there was a soft knock on her door, followed by her mom’s voice.

“annie? can i come in?”

annaka froze.

you sat up too fast, panic rushing through your veins. “oh my god—should i hide?”

she grabbed your hand. “no. you don’t have to hide anymore.”

before you could stop her, she called out, “yeah, you can come in.”

the door creaked open. her mom stood there in her robe, holding a mug of coffee. her eyes went straight to you—still in annaka’s clothes, blanket wrapped around your shoulders, sitting on the far edge of the bed like a child caught doing something wrong.

there was a beat of silence.

annaka cleared her throat. “mom, this is my friend and… she stayed over because she didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

her mom’s brow furrowed. “is everything okay?”

“no,” you said quietly. “but she’s been taking care of me.”

her mom stepped into the room, softening just a little. “do your parents know where you are?”

annaka tensed.

you didn’t answer.

it was enough of an answer.

her mom sat down at the edge of the bed, across from you, her expression shifting from confusion to concern.

“annie… what’s going on?”

annaka looked at her. really looked. her voice was quiet but firm. “she’s my girlfriend. her parents found out. they kicked her out.”

her mom’s eyes widened slightly, the shock visible—but not cruel. not angry. just surprised.

“oh, honey…” she whispered, mostly to you.

you swallowed, throat dry. “i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to cause problems.”

“you didn’t,” she said immediately. “you’re not a problem. i just… i didn’t know.”

annaka’s voice cracked. “i didn’t want to lie. but i also didn’t want to ruin anything.”

her mom was quiet for a long moment. then she sighed and stood up, moving toward the door.

“well. i think both of you could use some breakfast,” she said gently. “come downstairs when you’re ready.”

the table was awkward at first.

annaka’s dad had joined by the time you sat down, and though he didn’t say anything rude, the silence felt loaded. he glanced between the two of you, like he was still doing the math in his head.

but her mom tried. she made waffles. she asked how you liked your coffee. she handed you a folded blanket for your lap like it was a symbol of protection.

you didn’t have the energy to talk much. annaka did most of the explaining—carefully worded details, a few stories from the night before, a clipped version of your parents’ reaction.

her dad finally spoke, voice low. “that’s awful. i’m sorry that happened to you.”

“thanks,” you said, barely above a whisper.

there was another pause, then her mom looked at you. “you can stay here. for as long as you need. we’ll figure something out together, okay?”

you almost cried again.

instead, you just nodded.

annaka reached under the table and squeezed your hand.

later that day, after showers and a second cup of coffee and the smallest moment of calm, you found yourself back in annaka’s room, sitting cross-legged on the floor while she folded laundry.

“you okay?” she asked for what felt like the hundredth time.

you didn’t answer right away.

finally, you said, “do you think they ever loved me? my parents.”

annaka stopped folding. sat down across from you.

“i think they loved an idea of you,” she said. “and when you didn’t match that idea… they chose the idea.”

it shouldn’t have made sense. but it did.

you chewed your lip. “do you think they’ll ever change?”

“i don’t know,” she admitted. “some people do. some don’t. but i do know you deserve to be loved as you are. not as someone else’s version of you.”

you looked up at her, heart cracked wide open again. “how are you always the strong one?”

annaka smiled faintly. “i’m not. i’m just good at faking it when i’m with you.”

you crawled over and wrapped your arms around her, and she let herself fall back with you, tangled in each other on the floor, safe in this little world you were slowly building.

you spent the next two days in a kind of quiet limbo.

you didn’t go back home.

your phone stayed off.

time passed in little pieces—meals, naps, holding hands under the blanket while annaka’s parents tried to act normal.

her mom didn’t ask questions. she didn’t push. she just kept feeding you and smiling gently, like that was her version of love.

her dad still didn’t say much. but he didn’t look at you like a problem anymore. that was something.

but the world didn’t stop just because yours had broken.

on the third night, annaka found you sitting on her bedroom floor again, knees pulled to your chest, staring at the wall.

she sat down next to you. didn’t say anything at first.

after a while, she murmured, “you’re not stuck, you know. you still get to have a future.”

you let out a shaky breath. “yeah? what kind of future starts like this?”

“one that’s real,” she said softly. “no more pretending. no more hiding. just… living. with me.”

you looked at her. really looked.

“you still want that? even after all this?”

annaka leaned closer. “i want it more now.”

your voice cracked. “i don’t even know who i am without them.”

“that’s okay,” she whispered. “we’ll figure it out together. you get to rebuild yourself. piece by piece.”

you nodded slowly, the weight of that landing somewhere deep in your chest. scary, but kind of beautiful.

then she added, “my mom said we could clear out the guest room. set it up for you.”

your eyes widened. “what?”

“just for now. until things settle. i think they really mean it. they want to help.”

you pressed your hands over your face. “why are they being so kind to me? they don’t even know me.”

annaka pulled your hands away gently. “they know you’re important to me. that’s enough.”

you leaned into her, resting your head on her shoulder. she kissed your hair and whispered, “you’re not a burden. you’re not broken. you’re just hurting. and you’re allowed to be.”

later that night, you curled up in the blankets again—her bed was barely big enough for two, but it didn’t matter. she held you like it was the only thing keeping her grounded, like maybe she needed this just as much as you did.

“do you remember that night at the lake?” you asked softly.

she smiled against your skin. “where you dared me to jump in fully clothed and i actually did it?”

“and then i panicked and screamed because i thought you were drowning.”

“you shoved a pool noodle at me and started crying,” she laughed, voice muffled by the memory.

you smiled too. for real this time. “that was the night i knew.”

“me too,” she whispered. “you looked at me like i was the sun.”

“you are the sun,” you said before you could stop yourself.

she pulled back just enough to look at you, and there was something in her eyes—soft and shining and so, so full.

“say that again,” she whispered.

“you’re the sun,” you repeated. “you made everything make sense.”

she kissed you then—slow, deep, like the world had gone quiet just for this. and maybe it had. maybe it should have.

when you broke apart, she pressed her forehead to yours and murmured, “you’re safe now. you’re loved. i promise.”

you closed your eyes.

you believed her.

weeks later, the guest room had a new lamp and a box of your books. your parents hadn’t called once. but you were starting to sleep through the night again.

you didn’t cry every day. only sometimes. and when you did, annaka held you and never made you feel small for it.

she was there when you wrote your first journal entry since leaving.

she was there when you took a call from your school counselor.

she was there when you looked in the mirror and said, “i like this version of me.”

you still missed them sometimes.

you probably always would.

but it didn’t hurt as sharply now.

because you weren’t alone anymore.

you had a girl with cite dimples and long brown hair and soft hands who loved you loudly. even when you couldn’t speak. even when you felt like a shadow.

and now, in the middle of all this rebuilding, you had something else.

a chance.

a beginning.

a new version of the word home.

divider by strangergraphics!

rova’s notes ౨ৎ

a sad one today!!! hope u like it :))))) i said i wasn’t going to post until i got some requests but this is for poppy and poppy only cuz i promised her also its like 5100 words so yall are not allowed to complain ever again