#babys first angst

[morgana-ren]

Bit the bullet and did the power-hungry ending on my exploratory playthrough to get it over with. I always love my boy, but he does very much turn into a bastard. Wrote this very quickly as a quick exercise because I hated that I had no dialogue that felt right. Anyway, enjoy the trash. Nothing explicit happens but a lot of dubious, awful shit is implied so please read at your own risk. Spoilers, obviously.

“And of course, I couldn’t have accomplished all this without you, and one wicked turn deserves another,” His eyes flash crimson beneath his pale lashes, glowing ominously in the firelight. “So tell me, my love, what is it that you desire?” 

He expects her glossy elevator eyes and a seductive smile. For her to reach for him with her soft, little hands and pull him close, aching to feel him– to taste him in all of his newfound resplendent glory. To offer her neck in submission, pleading for him to change her, to become like him, to sit at his side eternally as he rules from his throne on high as his most beloved spawn. His first and most revered creature of the night. His queen.

But she doesn’t.

Her brows furrow, the corner of her lips tugging inward as she purses them. It’s not the reaction he was expecting, to say the least. He frowns as he inspects her expression, trying to suss out exactly what it is that plagues her. She looks worried– anxious, even. She pulls her gaze away from him, stepping back away from him ever so slightly, staring at the dirt for a moment before speaking. 

“I just wanted you to be happy, Astarion. You were always so afraid, so paranoid that something or someone was going to come for you in the night. I never wanted you to have to worry about that ever again.” “And now I don’t,” He arches a pale brow. “Isn’t this what you wanted, my love? We’ll never fear anything ever again.” He feels her uncertainty vibrate the air around him, a sense of unease that permeates through her pores. It is not love and adoration and undying loyalty that she offers, but trepidation. 

“I know. I know it’s everything you ever wanted, and I’m happy for you, but it just seems like–” “Just seems like what?” He cocks his head, narrowing his eyes at her. 

“It seems like it’s changed you somehow. You’re– you’re different,” She reaches a tender hand up to caress his cheek, and he fights the instinct to lean into her touch. 

“I am different,” He insists, his voice raising slightly. “Power beyond imagining. There has never been a vampire such as I am now. I feel it coursing through my veins, practically bursting at the seams with it–” That familiar habit crawls up his tongue, and he slips the words before he even thinks them over. “And we did it together. I’m untouchable now, and thus, so are you. It’s our world to take, darling. I love you. Isn’t that what you wanted so desperately?”

There’s a twinge of something he doesn’t quite recognize from her. Hurt, or perhaps… disappointment?

“Asto, I never wanted to strongarm or manipulate you into loving me. I care deeply for you, but that’s my burden to bear. I never wanted more from you than you wanted to give.” 

“Then what did you want?” His lips curl downward into a frown, and he closes the gap between them that she created, stepping close enough to her to have her shifting.

“I just–” She pauses, her words hanging heavy in the air and on her mind as she says them. “--I had hoped you would have let go after killing Cazador. Realized that you don’t need power everlasting to be happy. I guess I thought you would have learned something from all of this–”

“Learn what, exactly?” His tone shifts, his words pointed and cruel as he spits them out, fists furling at his sides. “You naive, silly little girl. You’ve no idea what it’s like– what the world is truly like. You dare to condemn me after what I’ve seen? You’d judge me for taking strength where I find it? Strength that I use to protect both of us? To save your pretty little neck from all those creatures who seek to spill your blood? You dare pretend to understand?

He feels it through the tadpole— The whip and lash of barbed grief against her heart, ripping through her chest like a fanged maw. It's enough to almost bring him to his knees, but if it wasn't for their bond, he wouldn't have the slightest idea. Her face hardens and she betrays nothing at all: a slow blink in his direction, emotionless face creaseless as porcelain, not a thing betrayed—

—Save her eyes. There's something in her eyes that tears at him. Panics him. He cannot place it but fear creeps up his spine, taking hold in his brain. Something disappears from them as he speaks and they glaze over, empty and melancholic. As if she is letting go. 

She shakes her head, the column of her throat twitching ever so slightly as she hard-swallows. "You're right. I— I don't. I'm sorry," She turns her eyes from him, and her expression hardens into something unreadable entirely. "I'll leave it then. I don’t want anything from you. Enjoy your power, Astarion.  You’ve– you’ve earned it." 

There is something unspoken in her words that batters at his brain, panicked and flapping about as a freshly caged bird. He prods at their connection and feels her recoil from him— feels her retreat into the recesses of her mind, severing their connection where she can, and blanking him out where she cannot. She is locking him out— and he realizes that it is perhaps for good. 

His lip curls as she turns from him without another word, walking away, abandoning the conversation— abandoning him. There's a flash of sanguine rage and a pulse of power not entirely his own yet and his hand extends of its own will, fingers grasping at her throat and drawing her again, nails digging into the same flesh he'd once caressed so tenderly. 

"Don't you walk away from me! Don't you ever turn your back on me again! Do you understand?"

Fear. That's what's in her eyes now. Not fear of him, but fear of what he has done. Of what she has allowed him to become. She searches him for a trace of the man she'd cared for, the man she shed blood for— both hers and countless others— to save. All she finds is a twisted mockery of it. The man she has helped him become— if a man is what you can call him. 

She has created a monster, and now he has turned his blood-red gaze on her. 

"Astarion—" 

He feels her pulse in his palm, rabbiting away in her ribs, the scent of her rushing blood palpable in his lungs. The very same scent as when she stares down a pack of howling gnolls or a murderous cultist with a knife to her belly. It is a scent that so often fades when he is near enough to her for comfort, but it is more powerful than ever as he bears down on her now. 

"That's not how this is going to work, darling," He hisses, yanking her so close he can see himself in the whites of her wide eyes. "You are never to walk away from me again. Am I clear?"

The force of her rage hits him, edged with red, raw disgust. Her lip twitches, eyes narrowing on him as the malaise of her mourning is devoured by a tidal wave of both her pride and her indignant anger. "I am not your servant. You do not command me." 

"Is that so? Isn't that what you wanted? Hmm? To lose yourself in me like you told me once upon a time? You wanted me to care for you– to love you– and I’ve told you that I do. You sought something from me and now you dare to turn your back on me?"

"I wanted to be with you! I cared about you! You're not some toy to be played with or some vessel for pleasure! I never wanted anything from you that you didn’t willingly give!" She stumbles over the words, shame seeping through her like a thick, viscous ink. "I didn't know what it meant. I didn't know what he had done to you—" 

"And it doesn't matter," He sneers, sharp eyes locked on hers. "You gave yourself to me that night, did you not? You saw me through everything standing at my side, cut down as many bodies as I, handed me the knife I used to carve Cazador's skin, gave me your eyes so that I might sign the contract that pledged my soul and countless others to the hells, and now you dare to pretend your hands are clean as you point a finger at me?" 

"I wanted you to feel safe! To never have to look over your shoulder in fear ever again! To never again have to sleep with one eye open like we do now, just waiting for the creatures that stalk the shadows to swoop down upon us! For the first time in your life, I wanted you to know for certain that you could kill anything that threatened you or your freedom! I never wanted to tear down Cazador's tyrannical throne only to place you upon it— but it seems that's exactly what I've done!" 

Something in his body snaps, and his reaction is a visceral, violent scarlet slash of fury. He squeezes her neck, baring ivory fanged teeth down on her as he would a prey. "Do not ever compare me to him!"

Her eyes are wide with fear– with disgust– as she croaks out the words from beneath his palm.

“Look at yourself, Astarion. Am I wrong?” 

He looks down at her, at the woman he claims to love as he chokes her and she suffocates on his power, her bruising throat flexing in strain beneath his steely fingertips. He can just barely make himself out in the dewy sheen of her eyes as they begin to water, and what stares back at him isn’t a man– it is a monster. 

Something in him shatters like glass, the last threads of his sanity slipping away through his fingertips. He is too far gone now to turn back, too lost in the red mist to find the light. 

But he will not wander it alone. He will never be alone again.

"I am whatever I say I am, and you are what I say you are, and you will do as I command. Your place is at my side, now and forever," He challenges her, fingers squeezing tighter on her throat as he breathes in the sweet, saccharine scent of her terror; the palpating, rocketing pulse of her thrumming heart. "And you will acquiesce to me. It’s not a request."

"Don't you dare presume to order me about like I'm your slave!" She claws at his wrist, trying to wrench free of his grip. “I never agreed to that!” 

“You don’t have to, my love,” He leans down further, pressing his forehead to hers. “Because I have decided for you.” 

“You do not get that right!” She snarls, baring her own teeth back at him. 

“Oh, but I do, darling. But I do. You don’t seem to grasp how this is going to work, so allow me to explain it to you.” 

He shoves her hard to the ground, releasing her throat only to leer over her from above, stepping on either side of her body. Her will is iron, but the flash of fear across her face is unmistakable. 

“You gave yourself to me, and I intend to keep what is mine. Your body is so fragile– so frail– You’d never survive without me, and I have no intentions of letting you go now that I have you. So you will stay by my side always. It’s what’s best for you, my little love, and you belong to me.”

“I don’t belong to anyone.” 

“Yes,” He says firmly, as if scolding a small child. “You do.” 

“I don’t have to obey you!” She hisses. 

“Not yet, perhaps.” 

Horror grips her and realization takes hold. “You wouldn’t, Astarion. You can’t do this–” 

“I didn’t want it to be like this,” He bends his knees, leaning down as he brushes the hair from her neck, thumb stroking tauntingly over her pulse point. “I wanted you to come willingly. I wanted you to ask for it, accept my gift of your own volition. But you’re a foolish, willful girl. You don’t know what’s good for you, do you? So I will show you.” 

“After everything? After everything you’ve been through? After everything we have been through?” Her voice breaks, and with it, her heart. Her strength slips away, and he can feel it swallow his senses in a wretched black void, sending him drowning him in her abyssal anguish– her betrayal at his hands– but he shoves it down and locks it away. Something he cannot place claws and tears at his own heart with a need so violent it almost sends him reeling, something begging him to stop, that this isn’t right– to her of all people– but he silences it. He will not lose her. He will not. 

Even if he must place a collar around her neck to keep her and keep her leash pulled taut.

And what she has to say about it is of little consequence. 

“This doesn’t have to hurt, my sweet girl,” He says softly, flicking his tongue over a fang. “But I know you like when it does.” 

“Astarion, please! I don’t want to have to hurt you–” He laughs, vicious and cruel, cackling like a hyena over carrion. “As if you could! I’m untouchable. The very power of the night bends to my commands, and so too shall you. Even your blood sings for me, eager and ready and willing. Begging for me,” He places his hand softly on her chest, just above her rips, feeling the gentle pump beneath. “You want this, even as you play coy. You want to belong to me. So I will give it to you what you desire.”

“Is that what you’re telling yourself?” A single silver tear slips down the gentle curve of her cheek. 

He blinks at her, and for a moment, he freezes upon seeing her tears and she can see a glimpse of him in there. Somewhere deep and far, screaming and thrashing and desperate against his own might, fighting a war against his very nature. He looks at her with the same eyes that revere her, crave her, love her– but above all, honor her. 

For a fleeting moment, he is the Astarion she loves. His lip trembles and quakes and the urge to hold her is overwhelming. To comfort her. To hold her close and keep her safe and protect her, to strike down all her fears with his bare hands. To love her. 

And yet he is the source of her pain. 

“Yes.” 

And then he is gone again. The light goes out and his eyes become inky black pits, nothing in them but her own miserable reflection as he leans down ever further, his warm breath against her neck as he teases her throat with a fang. 

“Give yourself to me, now and always,” He whispers, blasphemous and terrible as it runs a shiver down her spine. “By my side now and forever. It’s all ours, my love. Everything we lay eyes upon. We can have it all. Wealth, power– each other. Centuries upon centuries stretching into the endless horizon of eternity. I want it all, and I want to share it with you.”

She could raise a hand to him. She could try and fight him off with tooth and nail and flame. She could kick and crawl, scramble away back to the safety of camp. She could–

But she doesn’t. 

“I don’t want this, Astarion. A beloved slave is still a slave. A diamond collar is still a collar. A leash held by someone you love is still a leash. I love you, but you can’t force this. Please–” She exhorts, trying to swallow back a bout of fresh tears. “Please don’t do this. Not to me. Not to you.” 

He inhales raggedly, hand slipping up to her cheek to cup it, savoring her warmth one last time. 

“I have to. I won’t lose you. Not now, not ever. Not to age or blight or foolish notions. I cherish you, and I’d see you safe.” 

“A gilded cage is still a cage.” She closes her eyes, hand furled in his doublet. 

“And I will carry it with me. Always.”

#Baldur's Gate 3 #Astarion #bg3 spoilers #baldurs gate 3 spoilers #astarion x tav #Astarion Romance #Sorta anyways #Sad shit fellas sad shit #babys first angst #I don't usually write stuff like this so uh #not necessarily true to his character but thats not what this is about

[birdantlers]

When I was little I used to watch dbz kai on nicktoons, which cuts out a lot of the filler content from Z. It was always insane accidentally discovering the og scenes on YouTube, like secret surprise content

This does not include the bit where my mom walked in the kitchen and asked what was wrong, so I told her I watched a sad animal video because I didn't have the heart to say I was crying over DBZ clips hdkdj (she knew what it was and didn't really like it lol)

#for every dadmight fan who follows me‚ this was ground zero lol #this was inspired by peridotite talking abt this scene last night i will NEVER forget seeing ghis shit for the first time #babys first angst #babys first mentor to father figure arc #event that changed the timeline #skit #dbz #skart #dragon ball z #piccolo

[alien-bluez]

Lark can't handle nice things, and as he says "always fucks it up."

Drew a scene from this fic here, please please go read it right now!

#dndads #dungeons and daddies #dungeons and daddies fanart #dndads fanart #fanfic #dndads fanfic #lark oak #nick close #nicky foster #i'm not tagging all his names #lark oak garcia #dndads s1 #nark #baby's first ever comic yippee #nark got me so fucked that i learned how to make a comic for them #this fic has me real fucked up i love it so much #and everything by this author is rlly good #if u like nark angst or lark angst or both ur gonna have a good time then #kind of obsessed with this they've been rotting my brain so hard i drew lark so much here i have him down pat

[scuderiahoney]

Empty Space

Max Verstappen x reader // Strawberry Wine Pt. III

Strawberry Wine Series // Masterlist

Part Three of Strawberry Wine

Summary: Max wakes up alone. He finds himself wishing the night before had been a bad dream. Title from Strawberry Wine by Noah Kahan Word Count: 6.1k

Warnings: alcohol/intoxication, sexually suggestive content, ANGST (happy ending I swear)

Max sits on the edge of the bed and stares at the wall. The room is shockingly empty. Just last night, you were in bed next to him. When he’d closed his eyes, he’d pretended everything was alright. He’d listened to the sound of your slow, even breaths and pretended you were asleep, not laying awake just like he was. Eventually, between that and the utter exhaustion of the day, he’d fallen asleep.

He just hadn’t expected to wake up alone.

Sure, you’d tried to leave the night before. Tried to go stay with your friend, to give him space. We need space, I think. But he’d talked you into staying, insisting it was your home, too, and that you were being ridiculous. He’d hoped in the morning things would be okay, that clearer heads would prevail. Or that it would all turn out to be some horrible dream. Now the sheets are cold and the bed is empty, and your tears stain the pillowcase.

Your stuff is still there, at least most of it, which is a mild comfort. He sees your clothes in the closet, your slippers near the door where he always trips over them, your jewelry box on the dresser. He wonders if the wine cork is still in the drawer. God, he hopes it is. But you’re gone. Your phone charger, always left plugged in on the nightstand, is missing. Your favorite jacket, the one that hangs on the back of the bedroom door, is gone. The sheets are cold. The bed is empty.

He’s not sure what went wrong. Not sure how to fix this, or if he even can. He just knows it feels like he’s being torn apart at the seams. He stares at the wall and thinks. He thinks of you on the balcony, your head on his shoulder. The two of you on the streets of Monaco, plastic cups full of strawberry wine. He thinks of winning a race and you, leaning over the barricade to hug him, the smell of your perfume washing over him like a blanket. He thinks of the tray of corks in his bedside drawer, of the little square box hidden behind them, a question and a promise rolled up into one piece of jewelry.

He thinks of all of this, and then he lays back down in bed and cries himself to sleep.

The sheets still smell like you. He wonders, distantly, how long it will take for that to fade.

…..

You sit on your friend Audrey’s couch with a massive headache and a shake in your hands that won’t go away. You try to convince yourself it’s the caffeine- the espresso from the cafe on the way here, the cup of coffee you’ve had since you showed up. It’s not the regret, the awful feeling you’ve made a mistake that’s making you shaky. It’s the coffee.

Audrey is moving around in the kitchen. She hasn’t said a word since you sat down and admitted it.

I asked him for a break, you’d said.

She’d poured a cup of coffee and set it down in front of you. You drank it black, thinking of how Max always knows how you take your coffee and always makes it perfectly. Then she disappeared into the kitchen. You know she’s not happy with you. She’s the only one you’ve confided in about this- all your other friends were Max’s friends first, but Audrey is yours. You’ve taken absolutely none of her advice, which is what got you to this point.

“What did you tell him?” She finally asks.

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Does it matter?”

“Did you lie?” She asks.

She must take your silence for the answer that it is- yes. She comes back into the living room and leans against the back of the armchair, staring at you. You bury your face in your hands.

“I told him I needed space,” you say. “That… I was feeling uncertain about us and I needed to be on my own for a bit.”

She sighs heavily. “So you lied.”

“I’m trying to protect him,” you mutter.

“Right. By breaking his heart.” She retorts.

“Audrey,” you snap, curling further in on yourself. “Please.”

She sighs again. She does that, when she’s not sure what else to say. You don’t think there’s anything she could say to make it better. Instead, she walks over to the couch and sits down next to you. You lean into her shoulder and let the sobs take over.

…..

Two weeks go by before you see Max again. It’s easy to avoid him. He’s always gone anyways. You’re strategic about going and getting stuff from your shared apartment. You know his schedule, know when he’ll be in town. His calendar is still shared with you, the one his assistant keeps updated with his every move.

Which is why, when you’re standing in your bedroom packing up more clothes and you hear the front door open, you know he’s caught on. He must know you’ve been using the calendar. The one that says he’s in Milton Keynes for two more days. It's either that, or someone’s broken in. You hear him stumble over your shoes and curse under his breath and you know his voice. It makes you feel sick to your stomach.

You step into the living room and come face to face with him. He’s standing across the room, smiling softly at you. There’s a paper bag in his hand from his favorite Italian place. In his other hand is a bag that you just know holds a bottle of strawberry wine. The sight of it is like a sharp stab to your rib cage.

“Hi,”’he says, softly. “Dinner?”

You blink at him, wide eyed. “How’d you know I was here?”

He gestures at the door. “We have the security camera doorbell, remember?”

And yeah, of course. He gets notifications every time there’s movement at the front door. He’ll use it to say hello to you when he’s miles upon miles away and you’re just getting home from work. Of course he’d still be getting the notifications.

“You’re supposed to be at the factory,” you say.

He shrugs. “Plans changed. I’m here. Dinner?”

There’s this hopeful look in his eyes that is absolutely tearing you apart. He’s not smiling, not frowning, completely neutral. He’s trying so hard to be unreadable, but you know him too well.

The truth is that you do want to have dinner with him. You want nothing more than to sit down at the kitchen island in your usual spots. You want to feel his knee bump against yours while you eat pasta and fight over the last piece of garlic bread. You want to drink that stupid strawberry wine until you’re drunk and fall into bed with him and pretend like nothing ever happened. Like nothing is wrong. Like you never asked for a break. And you know you could- you could say it right here and he’d act like nothing had changed.

“I’m just here to grab some stuff,” you tell him, letting your hands hang at your sides. “I’m staying at Audrey’s.”

He tries not to let the disappointment show on his face. You see it anyways, the way you always see him. After nearly a year and a half together, you can’t help it. You turn around, back towards the bedroom, back to your stuff stacked neatly on the unmade bed. You pack it into your duffel bag and head for the door.

“Are you coming to Monaco?” He asks when you place your hand on the doorknob.

For a moment you’re confused, because you’re in Monaco, but then you realize he means the Grand Prix. It’s less than a week away. As his girlfriend, you’re expected to make an appearance. You turn towards him and lean your back against the door.

“Space, Max,” you remind him, hating that you have to break his heart all over again.

He’s sitting at the island, on his usual stool, far too much garlic bread in front of him. He nods solemnly.

“Right. But if you don’t come, people will wonder what’s going on,” he says. “Our friends, the press, the-“ he waves his hands around wildly. “People.”

“You haven’t told them?”

“The press?”

“No. Our friends,” you say.

He shrugs, shoves his food around on his plate. He looks small. You hate it. You hate that it’s your fault. Your hands start to shake again.

“No,” he admits. “You said… a break, space. I didn’t know…” he huffs. “I didn’t want to tell them unless it was permanent.”

He looks up at you, then, and scrubs at his jaw. There’s stubble there, and there are bags under his eyes. God, you hate yourself for it. You hate the way he doesn’t hate you, the way you can still see the love in his eyes. You hate the worry in his gaze, like he thinks you might end things right then and there.

“Max, I don’t-“ your chest feels tight. “I don’t know.”

“Okay,” he says. “That’s okay, schat. But if you don’t go to the race…”

You sigh, haul your duffel bag over your shoulder. “I’ll be there.”

You leave the apartment before he can say anything else.

…..

Audrey takes your phone from you one night, while you’re crying on her couch after watching a very bad romantic comedy. She deletes every social media app off your phone. It’s nice of her to try. You attempt to go along with it at first. But soon you’re using the browser to check what they’re saying about you on twitter, to read the Instagram comments about how your boyfriend could do better. You’re over analyzing gossip accounts, trying to see if they can tell that you and Max are taking a break.

Two days in, you redownload all the apps. If you’re going to look at it, you might as well make it easier.

…..

“Have you told them?” Max asks you.

You’re standing shoulder to shoulder with him in the Red Bull hospitality. Your friends are huddled in the corner, raiding the snack bar. You turn and look up at him. He’s not looking back at you.

“D’you think I’d be here if I had?” You ask dryly.

He shrugs.

You turn and look back at your friends. “Have you told anyone?”

He gives you a short nod. “Daniel. He… is perceptive. I didn’t want to lie to him.”

Frankly, Max has every right to tell whoever he wants. You can’t expect him to stay quiet about it forever, no matter how well he seems to be handling it. And it’s been nearly three weeks now. Eventually, you’re going to have to admit it to your friends. It’s a bit unfair, really, that you haven’t told them. Max should be getting their sympathy. But when you think about admitting it to your friends, the ones who say you and Max are destined to be together, you feel sick to your stomach.

What’s even more unfair is that you haven’t given him a firm answer, either. You’re just keeping him there, keeping him hanging on. You need to make a decision, and soon. Just not before the race.

“I’ll figure it all out,” you promise. “And I can go if you don’t want me here-“

“I always want you here,” Max says, and your heart clenches in your chest.

You’re lucky Max isn’t big on PDA. You’ll be able to make it through the weekend without drawing much suspicion. But you find yourself missing the weight of his hand on the small of your back as you walk through the paddock. There are gaps between your fingers where his are supposed to fit. You feel it now more than ever.

…..

Daniel corners you on Saturday afternoon. Really, you should’ve seen this coming a long time ago. In the time you’ve been dating Max you’ve gotten to know the other drivers, and Daniel’s one you know quite well. He grabs you by the wrist and pulls you into Max’s driver room, which is an overwhelming place for you to be. You can remember other races, when Max was the one pulling you in here for a quick makeout or just to spend time alone. Now, you’re being dragged into an interrogation.

“What the fuck?” Daniel asks, and you can’t help but laugh.

“Wanna be more specific?” You reply.

“You know what I’m asking,” he says. “Come on.”

“I really don’t, Daniel. What do you want to know? Are you asking why I’m here? Why I asked for a break?” You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Frankly, it’s none of your business-“

“It is my business, because he’s my friend and so are you. He told me why, I think it’s a load of bullshit,” he says.

The problem is… he’s not wrong.

“I think I’d know why,” you hiss.

“I see the way you look at him, it hasn’t changed.” Daniel has his arms crossed over his chest. “So what’s the real reason?”

“I’m feeling unsure about things. I needed space,” you insist.

Daniel is still blocking the door, arms crossed. He tilts his head at you, appraising. One of his dark brows twitches.

“You’re not sure about what? Your feelings for him?” He asks.

Your heart shatters in your chest. “Danny, stop, it’s not that easy-“

“No, come on. Things changed, yeah? Say it. You don’t love him anymore.” Daniel has fire in his eyes now. “Or if that’s not it, then tell me what it is.”

You stare at him, a bit dumbfounded. The truth is, you can’t say it. How could you not love Max? Just the thought of that feeling going away has you feeling awful all over again. You’re saved by a knock on the door.

“You’re in my driver room, you know,” Max calls out, and both you and Daniel deflate. “I shouldn’t even be asking, but can I come in?”

Daniel glares at you one last time and then opens the door. Max leans in, and his brows furrow when he catches sight of the two of you. You know you’re on the verge of tears. Max turns to Daniel, eyes wide.

“I told you not to do this,” Max scolds.

“We’re just talking,” Danny answers.

“She’s going to cry,” Max points out, sounding exasperated.

You roll your eyes and squeeze between the two of them. You head for the bathroom to clean yourself up. Behind you, the two of them are bickering in harsh whispers.

…..

You end up on the rooftop patio of the hotel you’re partying at after the Grand Prix. Max and your friends are somewhere downstairs. They’re drinking. You have been too- someone ordered shots for the table, then rounds of drinks. But what did you in was the strawberry wine your friends ordered specially for you and Max. You hadn’t been able to handle it anymore. At the first opportunity, you disappeared.

There aren’t any other people up here. It’s late, and if people are still up, they’re drinking and partying. So when the door swings open and you hear footfalls, you know who it is without even having to look. Max sits down next to you on the couch. You have your arms wrapped around your calves, face pressed into your knees. He doesn’t reach out to touch you. You’ve lost that privilege, it seems.

“Hi,” he says, softly. “You disappeared.”

You huff. “Yeah. Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he says. “But I would be a bad boyfriend if I didn’t come find you.”

You fight back the sob that threatens to wrench its way out of your throat. It turns into something halfway between a whimper and a groan. Max makes a sympathetic noise. You hate it. He should hate you. You turn your head towards him, eyeing his face through the blur of your tears.

“Well, I’m okay. You can go. Tell them I went to bed early or something,” you say.

Max stared at you. “You are obviously not okay.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not your problem right now,” you tell him. “So.”

“You’ve never been a problem, schat,” he says.

He says it like it’s so easy. Like it doesn’t make you feel physically ill. Like the way he calls you those affectionate names doesn’t make your skin burn. You press a hand over your mouth to cover the choked sob.

“Tell me what’s going on,” he says, softly. “You can talk to me.”

You can’t tell him. You broke the heart of the man you love. You lied to his face because you thought it would make it easier. And now you carry the guilt of it in every part of your body. It’s settled into the empty space behind your ribs. You stare at him from afar and wish you could hold his hand again. You taste strawberries and feel like throwing up. That first kiss in your apartment. The first bottle of strawberry wine you shared. The corks in his nightstand drawer.

“I can’t drink the wine anymore,” you tell him, and he frowns sympathetically. “The taste of it makes me feel sick.”

Max seems unsure of what to say. He reaches out, then, and places his hand on your knee. You flinch at the feeling. His thumb brushes against your skin, warm and soothing and terrifying. You don’t deserve it.

“And I know how unfair this is, because I’m the one who asked for this,” you say, squeezing your eyes shut. “I’m the one who didn’t tell anyone and ended up here. I shouldn’t be the one who’s so upset about this.”

Max squeezes your knee. “You seem… heavy. Like there’s something weighing you down. I don’t hate you, you know. I don’t blame you. You need a break, okay. But you don’t have to shut me out completely.”

“Fuck, Max,” you choke out.

The sobs come easily now. They wrack your shoulders and steal the air from your lungs. You bury your face in your hands. He pulls you into his chest and tucks his head atop yours. It’s like that night on the balcony all that time ago, when he let you fall asleep against him and had you stay the night.

How does he not see it? Does he really think you want this? Maybe he’s fallen out of love with you. Maybe that’s why it’s easy for him to believe it. You think the ache in your chest will never go away. You gasp for air and breathe in his cologne and feel yourself tearing apart at the seams.

You cry harder when he presses his lips to your forehead and murmurs, “I’ve got you. You’re safe here.”

You push at his shoulder halfheartedly. “Don’t. Please don’t. I don’t deserve this.”

“What, schat?” He says, lips still pressed to your skin. “You haven’t done anything wrong. You still deserve love. Sweetheart, if you don’t want to be together anymore, if you don’t feel the same-“

“I do!” You gasp out, borderline hyperventilating. “I do, I still love you, Max, of course I-“

You break off into a sob, and he rocks you back and forth. His fingers press into your skin as he holds onto you tightly.

“I know,” he says, and the guilt rises in your chest. “I know you do. So how about you tell me what’s going on?”

You rear your head back to look him in the eye. He’s watching you, a calm, knowing look on his face. And really, you should’ve known. Max knows you better than anyone in the world. Of course he knows when you’re lying. He presses a hand to the side of your face, and you can’t help but melt into the touch. God, you’ve missed him so much.

“Max,” you try, rubbing your thumb on your own knee. “I don’t-“

“You can tell me,” he says, so gently, like you’re made of glass. “Please. You can tell me.”

You can feel him all around you. For the first time in weeks you feel safe.

“Just talk to me, please-“ he says, voice cracking. “I don’t want to lose you.”

You hate yourself for it. You wonder how many times you’ll have to break his heart.

“I know, and I’m sorry,” you say. “I really am, Max.”

You pull yourself out of his arms. You stand up and lean over him to press a kiss to his forehead. Then you walk away.

…..

You’re exhausted, constantly. Long weeks at work that consist of even longer days have you dragging your feet every time you come home. It’s a struggle to even make food for yourself, or do anything. Audrey’s generous enough to let you stay with her, even more generous as she does her best to take care of you. You’re falling apart. Anyone can see it. Your friends are catching on. They’re asking questions and whispering to each other about calling Max when they don’t think you can hear.

At night, when you close your eyes, all you see is him.

…..

Really, it’s your own stupid fault, you think. You’re in Monaco. Max lives here. It’s a small country. And Max’s friends live here too. So when you end up crying in the bathroom of a club, of course it’s Charles’ girlfriend who finds you. Of course she recognizes you and brings you to Charles with a worried look on her face. Of course you’re too upset to do anything but go with her. You’re not even sure why you’re crying at this point- you’re not that drunk. You think you just miss him, really. You’d gone out to try to get your mind off it. It hadn’t worked.

Charles takes one look at you and calls Max. You can’t exactly tell him not to without raising a whole bunch of questions. Max answers, because that’s just your luck, and within a few minutes Charles tells you he’ll be there soon to pick you up. Because of course he will. Because no matter how many times you break his heart, he’ll still come to your rescue.

It’s been almost a month now, since you asked for a break. Honestly, at this point, you’re just wishing he’d break up with you. You deserve that. He must be on the verge of it by now.

When you see Max’s car pull up outside of the club, you make your way over with a wave to Charles and his girlfriend. You nearly have a heart attack when you open the door and it’s not Max in the driver’s seat. It’s Daniel.

“Hi,” he says. “Heard you needed a ride.”

You blink, even as you sit down in the passenger seat. “Charles called Max.”

Daniel nods. “Yup. I was with Max. This,” he says, gesturing around at your surroundings, “seemed like a bad idea. So. I’m picking you up.”

You nod. “I didn’t ask him to call Max, you know. Just couldn’t exactly tell him not to.”

Daniel nods. “I know.”

He doesn’t ask where to take you. He also doesn’t head for your shared apartment with Max, which is likely where he was before this. Instead, he heads for one of few fast food restaurants in Monaco. In the empty drive thru, he orders and then looks at you expectantly. You just ask for a side of fries and a drink. It’ll help sober you up, which you figure is his point.

He pulls into a nearly empty parking lot and turns to you.

“Tell me,” he says, urgently. “I can help you figure this out. It’s not too late. But you have to tell me.”

You pick at your french fries, staring out of the front windshield. Danny may be driving, but this is Max’s car. You’ve sat shotgun here so many times- on late afternoon drives, on impromptu road trips, on rides home from galas that you didn’t belong at. You can hear Max telling you to buckle your seatbelt and you can almost feel his hand on your knee. God, you miss him.

“It’s not his fault,” you tell Daniel.

“Well, he thinks it is,” he answers. “Probably because you won’t give him a full answer.”

You burst into tears again at that. He hands you a napkin. Then he reaches for your hand.

“This isn’t you,” he says. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I know you love him. I’ve never seen two people who fit each other better. So tell me, or tell someone, or fuck, tell him. I don’t want to see him lose the best person he’s ever had over… something he doesn’t even understand.”

It hits you, then, like a tidal wave. You can’t lose him, either. He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to you. How had you gone from strawberry wine and him walking you home to this? How could you have ended up here?

“This isn’t what I want,” you say, through your sobs. “I want Max. I didn’t want-“

Daniel squeezes your hand. “I’ll take you to him if you promise me you’ll talk about it. If you promise you’ll tell him what’s going on.”

You stare at your reflection in the windshield and wonder if you even deserve that chance. You’re almost positive you don’t, and even more sure that Max would give it to you anyways.

…..

You stumble into the warm apartment and nearly trip over your own shoes. You wonder, absentmindedly, if he’s left them there on purpose. If it would make it worse to move them.

He calls out from the bedroom. “Daniel?”

Daniel is behind you, shutting the door. “Max. I…”

“Is she okay?” Max asks, before he steps out into the living room. His eyes lock with yours. “Oh.”

“Hi,” you say.

“I’m going to go, so you two can talk,” Daniel says, and Max’s face crumples. “But call me if you need anything, okay?”

Max nods. You nod. Then Daniel steps out and closes the door behind him. You’re alone with Max. You shove your hands in your jacket pockets and step farther into the apartment as you kick your shoes off. There are dishes in the sink, a bottle of strawberry wine on the counter. Max sees you eyeing it.

“Wine?” He asks.

“No,” you say, hating the way his shoulders fall. “I, uh, I’m going to change, really quick. And then we should talk.”

He nods. You head for the bedroom. You have to walk past him on the way, and have to walk through his cologne. You want to reach out and touch him. You wonder, if you did, if he’d pretend nothing had ever happened. When you’ve changed into comfier clothes and see your tear streaked face in the mirror in the bedroom, you remind yourself how horribly unfair that would be.

You walk back out into the living room. Your hands are shaking, chest tight. Max is sitting in his usual spot in the corner of the couch. You sit down at the other end. The pain on his face makes your stomach ache. You pull your legs up onto the couch, curling in on yourself.

“First I want to apologize,” you say, softly. “I’ve been… really unfair.”

He shakes his head, ready to tell you it’s fine, but you cut him off.

“It’s not okay, Max,” you say. “This will be harder if you just forgive me at every wrong turn I’ve made.”

“We can figure it out, though,” he says, voice breaking on the last word. “We can, I know it, please don’t-“

He looks terrified, you realize. You don’t see him scared often. He’s small again, like he was that day sitting at the island. And suddenly you realize he thinks you’re here to break up with him. God, you feel sick.

“Max, honey,” you say. He keeps his eyes trained on the couch between the two of you. “I don’t want to break up. Not if you’ll still have me. But you deserve an explanation.”

You watch the tension drain from his face. Watch the weight melt away off his shoulders. He purses his lips, blows out a long breath. His eyes are glassy. You don’t see him cry often, and you hate that you’re the cause, even now. He crawls towards you on the couch and places his head in your lap. He takes your hand and drags it to his hair as he closes his eyes. You choke on a gasp at the feeling of his hand on yours.

“Please,” he says, quietly. “I’ve missed you. Please.”

So you sit on the couch in your shared apartment, and you run your fingers through his hair, and you tell him everything. You tell him about the burnout at work, about the insane schedule you’ve had, about them denying your time off to go to some of the races. You tell him about how much you miss him when he’s gone, how it makes your chest ache to wake up alone. You tell him about the hate you get online, the things people shout at you when you walk through the paddock. You tell him how exhausted you were, how you felt like you were failing him, how being at your worst made you feel like you were dragging him down. How you were afraid you would start being mean to him, how you wanted to get out before that happened. You tell him you thought space would make it better, but it only made it worse. Most of all, you tell him-

“None of it was you. It was me. I thought I was protecting you,” you say, squeezing your eyes shut. “I thought it would be better like this.”

Max is quiet for a few moments after it all spills past your lips. You find yourself holding your breath. There’s a chance you’re too late, that there’s no coming back from this. Then you feel his hand against your jaw.

“I understand,” he says, voice raw and quiet. “And we can fix this. But I swear to god, if you ever pull some shit like that again I’ll-“

You burst into laughter before he finishes his threat, because what else can you do? You muffle the sound into your hands, even as Max keeps his hand on your jaw, even as he starts to laugh too. There’s nothing funny about it, really, but you can’t help it. Max sits up and presses himself against you, his head on your shoulder and his arms around your waist. It’s an awkward angle but it works. And then you’re gasping for air because you haven’t felt the weight of him in weeks, and he’s burying his face in your neck. You feel the tears land on your skin, and you’re not sure if they’re yours or his.

“You should quit your job,” he says, and you’re borderline hyperventilating now. “Take some time. Come with me. It’s not long now, and then it’ll be the break. The rest of it, we can figure out. Together.”

“You’re being too nice,” you tell him. “You should be mad at me. I’ve been-“

Max shushes you and pulls away. Panic claws at your chest at even the smallest loss of touch. He cups your face in his hands, though, and kisses your forehead.

“We have time to talk about all of it,” he says. “But what matters to me most is making sure you’re okay. The rest will come later. We can have the more difficult talks when we’re less tired and more stable.”

He kisses your temple. You nod and rub at your face. You lean over into him, forehead against his shoulder.

“I’m so sorry,” you say, one more time.

“I am, too,” he says. “For not noticing before it got so bad.”

You feel lighter. The weight isn’t completely gone, but it’s been lifted a bit. Shared, maybe. When you open your eyes, Max drags you into his chest and lays down on the couch with you in his arms. You can finally breathe again. The air feels clean and sweet like strawberries.

Eventually he coaxes you to bed. A fresh wave of tears hits you when you’re brushing your teeth in the bathroom next to him. He just holds you close through it. It should feel strange to crawl into bed next to him, you think, but it just feels like coming home, the way it always has. You think back to the lonely moments when he was away and you laid here alone, and you wonder how you ever gave any nights with him up. But you’re here now, and so is he, so you roll to face him. You press your face to his chest and breathe him in.

…..

In the morning, you’re in the bathroom when you hear him wake up. You hear the panicked noise he makes, the shuffling as he scrambles out of bed. He’s at the bathroom door in seconds, tugging on the handle and opening it. His shoulders heave as he stares at you, your toothbrush in your mouth, eyes wide.

“I thought,” he chokes out, eyes even wider than yours. “I woke up and you were gone and I thought-“

You yank the toothbrush out of your mouth and spit into the sink. “Shit. I didn’t even think- sorry-“

He doesn’t say another word, or leave you the chance to. Instead, he closes the gap between the two of you, takes your face in his hands, and kisses you. It’s been ages since you’ve felt his lips on yours. You’re putty in his hands immediately.

He drags you back into the bedroom, and you trip over his feet. His hands fall to your hips to keep you steady. He walks backwards towards the bed until he runs into it, knees buckling. He hauls you into his lap. When your knees settle on either side of his legs, when you feel the warmth of him underneath you, you swear you could cry.

His hands shove frantically at the hem of your sleep shirt. Yours do the same with his. His skin is hot to the touch- he’s still sleep-warm and soft. When you pull away from his lips, his eyes are half lidded.

“Max?” You ask, pressing your fingers to his side.

“Please,” he says. “Need you.”

You press a line of soft kisses to his jaw. He shudders underneath you. His hands pull at your hips, pulling you closer. You draw one hand up his spine, taking the shirt with you. He pulls it over his head. Yours follows his to the floor quickly after that. His hands fall to your waist, thumbs pressing into your ribs. You want to tell him everything. Want to tell him how sorry you are, how much you’ve missed him, how you could never live without him. How it tore you apart to try.

“I need you more,” you whisper into his ear, hoping it’ll be enough.

When you fall apart underneath and around and into him, he wraps his hand with yours and does the same. I love you tumbles over your lips and melts into his, the lips that repeat the same words back to you. You swear you taste strawberries.

…..

Max wakes up two months later to cold sheets and an empty bed, but he doesn’t panic. He can hear the whir of the coffee maker, can hear you humming in the kitchen and talking to the cats. There’s a sense of calm somewhere deep in his chest, one that hasn’t been there for a while, even after you came back to him. It’s the humming, he realizes drowsily. You used to hum all the time. You’d gone quiet for a while, but it’s back now. You’re back now. Piece by piece.

He rolls over, opens the bedside drawer. There’s the tray of corks, his watch, loose change and batteries and a faded post it note with something scrawled on it in your handwriting. And in the back corner, under a loose piece of paper, there’s a little black box. Inside, there’s a ring.

You’re not ready yet. You’re still healing. So is he. But you’re humming in the kitchen, making coffee, and he knows someday you both will be. For now, that’s enough.

You pop your head in through the doorway just after he shuts the drawer. “I have coffee for you.”

“Can’t we have it in bed?” He asks, giving you his best puppy dog eyes.

You laugh. “We have things to do today, Max. If I get back in bed with you we’ll never get any of them done.”

Max laughs, raises his eyebrows as he stretches his arms above his head. “Sounds like a good day to me.”

You roll your eyes affectionately and disappear again.

When he eventually joins you in the living room, his coffee is sitting on the table. You’re curled up under a blanket. He sits down and pulls you into his chest, wraps his arms around your waist from behind. He reads your book over your shoulder and takes a deep breath.

Any day with you is a good day.

Read the next part, On The Horizon, here!

a/n: sorrrryyyyyy! but I did promise a happy ending told you they’d be okay! thanks for reading!! title from the song that was definitely in the back of my head when I wrote Always Walk Me Home, which is probably how they ended up loving strawberry wine 🍓 & the song is sad so the angst had to happen. pls come talk to me ab this universe or any of my fics my ask box is open!!

Taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me @forzalando

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fic #max verstappen angst #max verstappen fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 fic #formula 1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #formula 1 #max verstappen #mv33 #honeywrites #how did I write this so fast? insomnia #I proofread this maybe once #baby’s first angst #baby’s first anything but fluff really #what better Lewis bday present than max angst #just kiddinggggg #if ur still reading the tags send me a 🍓

[0vergrowngraveyard]

sonic the millisecond he sees tails on west side:

#id pin this if i didnt have my introduction #i could add it to that tho.... #anyway gonna go draw angst or au stuff #just had to make this first #miles tails prower #baby tails

[essektheylyss]

did someone actually hate on your fave? or did they neutrally attribute a trait to them that you've unnecessarily negatively moralized and you hurt own feelings about it? or, perhaps, did you project too hard and now interpret even mild critique or simple acknowledgement of interesting character flaws as an ad hominem attack on yourself?

#like I'm sorry but. as an essek stan. skill issue. #ngl I'm more inclined to block someone going 'essek is baby who has never done anything wrong in his life and he should be exonerated' #than someone going 'essek is a horrible criminal and he should die' #the first is like 'incorrect. even his partner does not hold this opinion.' #the second is like 'depending on your tone it's possible you have a point. let's talk it out and see if you do' #I myself have also had my fave formally executed on occasion. for kicks and angst. 😌 #actually laughing this reminded me of a one-shot post live show that I never finished where caleb and essek basically have this conversatio #I should actually finish and post that #anyway this is not that serious it's just constantly on my mind on this hellsite

[ghouljams]

you know what, as Angels self-proclaimed cool aunt, i am going to do a very controversial thing and say hurt. her. i want to see Keegan destroyed and sobbing. i want keegan not being able to look at their kids for more than a few seconds because they look like her. i want him finding drawings that the little monster made of their family and just breaking down again. give. me. the. angst. (pretty please)

Well. I've been wanting to write this for a while, but I'll keep it short.

tw miscarriage

You think you're a good pregnant person. It was rough the first go round, mostly because you were doing it on your own, but now you have Keegan around. He's around all the time, you can't turn a corner without him being there. You can't lift anything or grab for things off shelves, you can't go to the store alone, and Keegan follows you to work with the little monster in tow. It's actually sort of sweet saying goodbye to your little family outside your office every morning. You kiss both of them and wave goodbye, knowing they'll be there to pick you up when you get off.

It's a neat little routine you fall into. You feel good, healthy and happy. Keegan's started getting up early, getting Ainsley ready for the day and making breakfast. He kisses your cheek every chance he gets, settles his hand against your stomach, pulls you into his lap to feed you, he's more affectionate, more attentive than he's ever been. You'd be a fool not to give into his care. You know what it's like to be on your own, so this time you're taking full advantage of him.

Your toddler climbs into bed between you and Keegan for stories before bed, and cuddles close against your side. When their eyes are heavy and Keegan finally scoops them up into his arms to cart off to bed they reach for you, wrap their arms around your neck and whisper a good night to you. Your heart swells with happiness as you kiss their cheek. Your baby. You're holding off on telling them the good news until you can show them a proper ultrasound. It'll make them happy seeing a picture.

You really shouldn't be so happy, you're only a few weeks in, not even showing yet. It's Keegan, you think, his excitement is infectious and you've never seen him so happy. It takes everything in you not to smile every time he looks at you, every time he touches you. It takes everything not to giggle and grab for him every time you remember that you're having a baby with the man you love.

Keegan wakes you up at the first scent of blood. Spotting, then a brilliant horrible red. Your stomach drops, then the cramps hit and you don't have time to mourn because it hurts. It hurts and there's no amount of tears you can cry into Keegan's shoulder that make it stop hurting. Keegan's lips press against your temple, his arms tight around you as he calls 999. You hold on just as tightly, your body shaking with an emotion you can't put name to.

It wasn't far along, you try to tell yourself, I didn't even know them.

It doesn't help.

#tw miscarriage #this is the sort of angst that I am very iffy about sharing #because it is a real thing that happens to people #and can be very traumatic #but I also know I write a lot about babies #and loss is a very common part of pregnancy #anyway the first person that tells me this triggered them I will take it down #I do not want this blog to be a space that is hostile or insensitive to people #know that you're loved and I mean that with my whole heart #oc: angel #keegan ghosts #keegan x oc #cod x reader #cod x oc #x reader #x f!reader #cod keegan #keegan russ #keegan russ x reader #keegan p russ #fae!keegan #oc: ainsley

[astrobei]

something something mike wheeler is so used to being brushed off and ignored by his own family that he learns to make his feelings loud and obnoxious around most people because it’s better to be ignored when you’re being annoying on purpose than to be ignored when you’re being vulnerable on accident. he learns to roll his eyes and be slow to trust and be critical of newcomers because his friends are his people— his most trusted, his tried and true ride or dies, but after you make it into his circle he will die for you. he scowls and he glares and he tries so hard to be somebody he’s not because he thinks things will be easier for him that way, because he’s been bullied his whole life. he’s a little abrasive but he softens around his best friend, who can get him to open up without even saying a word. he likes syrup on his eggs and cheesy pop music. he’s the paladin, he’s a fighter, he’s a source of good. he’s will’s light in the darkness and he finds that same light in will too. he’s surprised every time a parental figure hugs him. he’s seen his best friends die and come back and die again. he spent a year searching for a purpose and he found it in will byers. he feels like nobody needs him, but all he wants is to be needed. to be wanted. he feels like he’s drifting apart from his people, until will reels him in, tethers him, and says hey, remember when you said asking me to be your friend was the best thing you ever did? well being your friend gives me the courage to fight on.

#i am #i’m so emotional about him today #yes it’s because i’m elbow deep in mike angst #but it’s also just because i’m emo about him all the time #it’s just #mike wheeler #how can u hate mike wheeler #he’s just a baby #he’s just a kid #he’s just like me #i’m so emotional #every time he hugs a figure of authority and looks surprised that they’re holding him #his mom in s4 #hop in s2 then 4 #he hates u at first until u win him over and then he’d do anything for u #madwheeler s2 vs s3 #he’s just so #<333333333333 #byler #/astro posts #projecting onto him w every molecule in my body good lord HES ME #IM LITERALLY . IM HIM #HES #OOOHGUYGGHHFH

[heavyhitterheaux]

Teenage Woes Part 3

Synopsis: You and Jack finally decide on a fair punishment for the triplets, and they get a rude awakening when they are forced out of their comfort zone.

Pairing: Husband!Jack Harlow x Wife!Reader

Read Part 1 and Part 2 first

First Babies of Private Garden Masterlist

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

It had been a week since Jack had gotten his privileges back and he wasted absolutely no time once you had told him. At this point, the triplets were still walking on eggshells around you and in order not to do anything to piss you off, if they had a question they wouldn't ask you unless absolutely necessary.

Jack had convinced you to take a bath and had run the water for you along with lighting a few of your favorite candles and adding your favorite bath bombs. Within five minutes, he was climbing into the tub behind you, and you were surprised that it had taken him that long.

Your head was laying on his chest and the two of you were in a comfortable silence when you broke it by poking his cheek and starting to play with his beard.

"Yes, baby?"

"I've thought long and hard about this and if we agree on this, we can move forward with a proper punishment for them."

"I had been thinking too, but you go first." Jack said while kissing the tip of your nose and you smiled.

"They're going to public school and we are no longer paying for them to go to a private school. That comes with privileges and having the right attitude and being respectful."

"At least for a semester, you agree?"

You slowly nodded your head yes.

"No one is allowed to use their cell phone or drive unless we let them. Axel and Ivy need to get part time jobs and Ivy asked me if babysitting Nova counts even though she's 12. I expected her to ask about Cash and Cam seeing that they're only 6."

"No she didn't ask that…" Jack said while stifling a laugh and looking at you in disbelief and all you did was nod.

"And I have another suggestion." Jack started to say and you nodded for him to go on.

"They give us a percentage of their paycheck every two weeks and we tell them it goes towards bills, but we actually put it in another savings account for them and they can't even touch that one until they're 30."

"Hmm, I like that idea. I can open a new account tomorrow."

"One way or another they are going to learn to respect us and I think that this will be the wake up call that they need."

"I think one of the things that sticks out and pisses me off the most is Axel smoking. Knowing that he had to be intubated multiple times when he was born and has a heart murmur. He's lucky that we even let him play soccer. And has asthma. Like is he trying to put himself in the hospital because I'm convinced that he is. I get that I experimented, well we both did, however we didn't do anything that stupid."

"And remember the time we found weed and he tried to blame it on Urban?" Jack added and all you did was shake your head.

"I swear, I don't recognize my kids anymore. At least the other three act like they have some sense."

"When should we tell them?"

"Well school starts back up next week so I can call tomorrow and get them enrolled and can you be in charge of making sure they find jobs?"

"Of course baby, and they can't work for us either. Because I know Ivy will ask."

"They are in for a rude awakening. We'll tell them tomorrow and if someone disobeys our rules, a disciplinary school is next. Never thought I would say that out loud but here we are."

"I hope we don't get to that point, but if we do, so be it."

"I just checked on all of them and Autumn snuck out again. She's not in her room and I watched the security cameras."

"Hmm, she can have her fun now but come tomorrow she's going to be in for it. I don't even have the energy to yell or argue with them anymore. It's the fact that I'm calm and I admit that's probably the scariest thing that I could be."

"Oh, trust me, I know."

All you did was eye him as he leaned down to kiss you.

"I love you."

"And I love you even when you get on my nerves."

"Was that last part really necessary?" Jack asked as he sucked his teeth, but all you did was laugh.

"Of course it was. Wouldn't be me if I didn't say it."

Jack simply rolled his eyes as he began to kiss down your neck and you knew where this was going.

"You aren't tired yet?" You asked and he immediately shook his head no.

"I've missed out on an entire month and I need to make up for lost time so spread your legs and let me work."

The next morning, you got up early and fixed breakfast for everyone for the first time in about a month and a half. Jack woke up about thirty minutes after you and came down to help you. All you could basically put him in charge of was drinks, but you were still grateful to have his company.

Meanwhile upstairs, the triplets had congregated in Axel's room and they were confused since they heard both of you downstairs and knew that something had to be up.

"She's actually cooking…" Ivy whispered, not actually believing it herself.

"Well maybe she forgives us?" Axel suggested but the girls shook their heads no.

"That's way too easy. She couldn't have and she didn’t even say anything about it either."

"Uncle Urby said she holds grudges like no other and the last thing we want to do is be in the line of fire when she gets pissed off."

"But we're her kids. She can't stay mad at us forever."

"Autumn, you've done enough shit for her to be mad at you for the rest of your life." Axel said and she immediately rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, okay. Don't say anything when you cough up a lung knowing that you smoke and have asthma." She quickly fired back as Ivy simply sighed.

Jack suddenly knocked on Axel's door and peeked his head in startling them.

"You three get your brothers and sister and come eat."

"Dad! What is mom up to?" Axel asked and all Jack did was laugh to himself.

"You three will find out soon enough, come on."

The three of them exchanged nervous looks as Jack walked away and went back downstairs.

"Welp, we're all going to die. So it was nice knowing you two." Ivy said before walking out Axel's room to get Nova while Axel went to get his brothers.

Once downstairs, everyone had fixed their plate and was eating at the table when you and Jack were simply eyeing each other making the triplets even more nervous. Ivy quickly caught on with you two exchanging looks and finally asked.

“Um, why are you two looking at each other like that?”

“Babe, you want to tell them?” Jack asked while looking at you as you were sipping on your tea.

“Well, if you insist. Ivy, Axel, Autumn, the oldest of my children who I carried for 33 weeks and had to be resuscitated twice once they cut you out of me even though Autumn claimed that it wasn't a big deal and you all still continue to disrespect me, me and your father have something to tell all of you.”

“Wait…. YOU DIED?” Axel exclaimed since you had actually never told them.

“Not once, but twice. Stay on topic, Axel. And you almost did too, but that's not what this conversation is about." Jack quickly cut in while the girls were looking at you with concern.

“But you never told us that!” Ivy exclaimed and Autumn looked to be upset.

"We need to unpack that because…. WHAT?"

“Another story for another day when the three of you are actually back in my good graces again.”

Nova, Cash, and Cam stopped eating to try and listen in on what was going on with their siblings as they nervously looked on.

“Come next week, the three of you will be going to public school since me and your father are not going to pay for you three to go to private school that has top tier educators and continue to disrespect us so that’s a thing of the past, Ivy and Axel, you two need to get jobs and all three of you will decide which bill you want to contribute to in the house since Autumn already has one. You are not allowed to have your cell phone unless we say so and you can only drive to and from work. If one of you steps a toe out of line, you don’t want to know what is going to come after that because you definitely won’t like it. I do not expect any failing grades either.”

There was only silence for a matter of seconds before you quickly heard their protests.

“PUBLIC SCHOOL?”

“WITH NORMAL PEOPLE!?”

“WE HAVE TO PAY BILLS NOW?!”

“WE HAVE TO RIDE THE BUS TOO?!”

“As long as you live in this house you will abide by our rules and respect them and we aren’t going back on this punishment so you three will have to deal with it.” Jack told them as Ivy simply had her mouth hanging wide open, but her face quickly turned to a look of anger as she looked at Autumn.

“This is all your fault! You told her that we were cut out and not pushed out and looked what happened!” Ivy said while rolling her eyes.

“How is this all my fault? I didn’t tell you to cuss out your teacher!”

“No, but you had to go and be a bitch and be disrespectful to our mother who would do anything for us and you’ve acted out ever since Nova was born because you were jealous that you weren’t the baby anymore!”

“We were only four when she was born!”

“And you still act as if you’re four years old! You almost let Nova fall down the steps ON PURPOSE when she was little and she would have seriously gotten hurt if I didn’t catch her in time!  You’ve always been the one to get in trouble and now we’re in trouble right along with you! And always beg daddy to bail you out when you know that you’re in the wrong. You’re so selfish!”

“How am I selfish? I have covered for you plenty of times when you snuck out with Damien!”

“YOU LITERALLY SNUCK OUT LAST NIGHT!”

“YOU TWO, SHUT IT RIGHT NOW! And we do NOT call each other names, Ivy!” You yelled and the two of them instantly went quiet.

“Ivy, when did you sneak out?” Jack asked while looking at her and all she did was stare back at him while picking off her fingernail polish.

“Don’t lie because we have security cameras.” He continued as Autumn was smirking.

“Autumn wipe that smirk off your face. It looks like we now have to make an executive decision. Babe? They do their junior year and entire senior year in public school.”

“Now, wait a second! I was going to be dance captain this year!”

“Autumn, shut your mouth because I’m not waiting for a damn thing and it looks like they’ll have to choose someone else. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes and Ax, you’ve been mighty quiet but let me tell you if we as much catch you smoking or even smell weed on you knowing that you have asthma, you don’t want to know what’s going to happen. The last thing we ever want is you having an asthma attack and getting a call from the hospital because your inhaler didn’t work. We have gotten enough calls from the hospital concerning you to last more than four lifetimes. When you were born you literally couldn’t even breathe on your own.”

“And no boyfriends or girlfriends so NO dating. Open your mouth to talk back to either of us and we’ll ship you off to military school at this very moment. Your choice, so choose wisely. Now enjoy your breakfast while I make a few calls. Jack, the only thing that they can look on their phones for are jobs today. Once they fill out at least five applications, they have to give it back to you. Do you agree?”

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

“We love the three of you very much, but you’ve left us no choice and have brought this on yourselves. I hope this serves as a good lesson to you and maybe just maybe if you three actually stick to being on your best behavior, you’ll slowly start to earn your privileges back.”

“Mommy?” You heard Cash ask and you quickly turned to him.

“Yes, my baby?”

“Can I have more orange juice?”

“Of course you can and Nova and Autumn come in the living room.”

“Am I in trouble?” Nova asked terrified as you poured juice for Cash and you shook your head no. She hated getting in trouble and would always cry when she was younger if she was caught doing something that she wasn’t supposed to do.  

“No, just need you for a second.”

The three of you walked into the living room and you gestured for them to sit down.

“Autumn, I am tired of this imaginary competition between you and Nova and it needs to stop at this very moment.”

“I…”

“No, and do not pretend to not know what I’m talking about because Ivy is right. We prepped you as much as we could but I didn’t even know I was pregnant with her because I would have liked to have done a better job. You are now 16 years old and she is 12 and looks up to her big sisters and wants to be like you and Ivy. We love all of you EQUALLY and no one has gotten special treatment at any time. So, do a better job of being a sister to her. I don’t have mine anymore and I wish that I did so the two of you better learn to get along. When me and your dad are not here anymore, all you’re going to have is each other. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” She quietly said while looking down at her feet.

“Nova, do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“The two of you can go finish eating.”

“Mom, what ever happened to your sister?” Nova quietly asked as she got up from the couch and Autumn went back into the kitchen.

“It’s not important and it’s a story for another day.”

The triplets were three weeks into the school year when all three of them came through the front door and you could tell that Ivy had been crying. Jack was the first one to notice and asked her what was wrong.

“Ivy? What’s going on?”

“I HAVE TO WORK TODAY! WHEN AM I GOING TO FIND TIME TO DO MY HOMEWORK? AND IT’S SO HARD. I HATE PUBLIC SCHOOL.”

“Me and your mother went to public school and we turned out just fine. You’ll be okay.” Jack replied while shrugging and looking at her, when she was quiet, he spoke again.

“I hope you weren’t expecting sympathy from me because if you were, you need to look elsewhere.”

“But…”

Just then you came down the steps and saw how upset she was and asked what had happened.

“What’s going on?”

“She’s fine. Ivy, go get ready for work and you’ll do your homework once you get back.”

“I AM NOT FINE! Mommy can I PLEASE go back to private school? Public school is scary and the food doesn’t taste good and they don’t have Fiji water in the cafeteria and the drama club sucks, and….”

You held up your hand to cut her off and all she did was sigh.

“Give it a chance, bubs. You’re only three weeks in and I have the utmost faith in you.” You said while pinching her cheek and all she did was sigh.

“You two aren’t changing your minds any time soon, are you?” Axel quietly asked while looking at how frustrated his sister was.

“Nope.” Both of you said at the same time and you went to lay in Jack’s lap as you grabbed his phone from him to order food since you had been busy all day and didn’t really have time to sit down. 

“If I finish my homework before dinner, can I play on my phone for an hour?" Autumn quietly asked and the two of you simply turned around to look at her. 

"Never mind. Can I watch Netflix then?"

"Hmm, what do you think?" Jack asked while looking down at you.

"It's Wednesday. No."

"Anddd there's your answer Autumn. You can read a book instead." Jack said as he looked towards her and all she did was nod her head accepting that as an answer before going upstairs while you scrolled through Jack’s phone.

"You know Nova asked me what happened to my sister a few weeks ago."

"Are you going to tell them?" Jack asked as you handed him his phone for him to add what he wanted to the cart.

"It's not all that important. It's not affecting their lives."

"But it's affecting yours. Not as much as before but it still is."

All you did was shrug.

"No matter how much time has passed and how much she wants to talk to me, I am never giving her the time of day or him for that matter. They knew what they were doing all along for it to come back and kick them in the ass later. She literally will never be in my good graces again. She had more kids other than me so she can focus on them. She literally did drugs while pregnant with me and I was born to addicted to a whole bunch of shit so she can go fuck herself. Anyway, did you add what you wanted? I want a milkshake too."

"I added it. It should be here in an hour."

"Okay. I just want them to understand that when we're not here anymore, all they're going to have is each other and they need to start treating each other better. Especially Autumn and Nova. Nova just kind of brushes it off, but I know it still bothers her. While Autumn can just be downright mean sometimes to her. And the thing is that she had her little jealous phase and I thought she grew out of it, but within the last few months she's doing it again."

"I think because of you telling them that, that they'll come around and be better about it. When I see those two, I get flashbacks of me and Clay and I do not want that happening again. And Autumn has got the message loud and clear now. We aren't putting up with her shit anymore."

"And it won't. In the end, I know that they'll be okay and it will just take a little while for them to get there."

"Now, are you sure we can't make another one?" Jack asked you and you looked up at him like he was crazy.

"Another WHAT?!"

"Um, never mind. I'll ask you later."

"If you are talking about me bringing another person into this world, the answer is no."

"But…"

"We have 3 boys and 3 girls. We are done. My uterus is done. My vagina is done."

"I'll ask you again next week."

All you did was look up to Jack to see him smirking and trying not to laugh and you couldn’t help but to laugh yourself.

"I cannot stand you."

All he did was lean down to kiss you and you continued to laugh as he placed kisses all over your face.

"It's just because you're a damn good mother. Just to watch the way you love and care for them is amazing and I knew from the beginning it was going to be like that, despite what was going on between us."

"Those first two years were hard. Between me wanting to separate from you, postpartum depression, thinking that we were going to have to bury one child, but we're still here."

"We are and thriving despite what may be happening around us."

"I'm so thankful you were able to realize something was wrong with me when that happened." You quietly said as you thought back on it.

"I know you like the back of my hand and inside and out… literally. I know when something is wrong with my baby. But seriously, that scared the absolute shit out of me. Second to their actual birth."

"I can't describe it, but it was a weird feeling. Like an out of body experience you could say."

"And that's why you were nervous to have Nova, scared that it was going to happen again."

"And thankfully it didn't."

"I don't know what I would have done without you and I know I tell you this all the time, but I seriously do not take for granted every single moment I get to have with you. Even if we're having a good day or not. I literally cannot put into words how much I love you."

"The good always outweighs the bad and I love you more than life."

"We can get through anything as long as we have each other."

The triplets were at the top of the steps as they overheard you and Jack talking and if they didn't just feel bad before, they felt even worse now. 

They didn't say anything to each other as Ivy went downstairs to ask the both of you for her keys so that she could drive to work.

"Um, can I have my keys please?"

Since you were laying on Jack’s lap, he simply got up, but picked you up along with him with you letting out a yelp and went to get them out of the safe.

"Jackman, you can put me down now." You said as you laughed. He placed you on your feet before handing Ivy her keys.

"Go to work and then come home. No detours because we will find out." Jack told her and she simply nodded before grabbing both of you and pulling you into a hug, startling you both.

"Um, bubs, are you okay?" You quietly asked while hugging her back.

"Yes, I just love you both a whole lot. I have the best parents in the world."

"Oh. Well we love you too." Jack said while looking down at you confused and all you did was shrug.

"I'll see you both when I get back." Was all that she said before she walked out the door and all you and Jack did was look at each other.

"What just happened?" Jack quietly asked while looking at you, but you were at a loss for words.

"I'm not really sure, but I'm not mad at it."

It was now nearing the end of the semester and the triplets had been on their best behavior and following all of the rules that you and Jack had set in place for them.

The both of you knew that their report cards would be sent home today and were hoping for good results.

You were currently in your room looking over possible dresses that Julissa sent over for an upcoming event and you had told her that by the end of the day, you would decide which one you wanted.

Your door was open as Autumn poked her head in and knocked.

"Mommy?"

"I don't even remember the last time you called me that. Is something wrong?" You said while looking at her in the doorway and she quickly shook her head no.

"Then what's going on? And are you just going to stand in the doorway or come in?" You asked her and she quickly came in to sit next to you and simply stared at you.

"I got my report card." She said while handing it to you.

You took it from her and looked it over seeing that she had gotten all A's and B's.

"This is good, bubs. I'm proud of you." You said while looking back up at her and all she did was start to cry.

"Autumn? What's wrong?" You asked while putting her report card on your dresser and hugging her as she cried into your chest.

"I'm such a horrible daughter and sister. My siblings probably hate me."

"What?! No you aren't! And no one in this house hates you!"

"You and daddy have given me so many chances that I really shouldn't have gotten. And Nova does hate me! I've been nothing but mean to her since she was born!"

"Okay, Autumn, you need to breathe. Like I said no one hates you. Nova is just in her own little world, and has a very big heart. You’re her sister that she looks up to and all she wants is for the two of you to get along. I know that she'll forgive you and she wants the two of you to be close."

"And you went through so much to give birth to us and I'm sorry that I ever said that it wasn't a big deal. You died. Twice. And went through postpartum depression and you were going to separate from daddy and…."

"Pause. How did you know that last part?"

"We overheard the two of you talking." She quietly said while looking up at you.

All you did was sigh.

"Autumn Danielle, all six of you are our greatest joy and I wouldn’t change a thing because that's how we got to this point. You've been doing a lot better and all we want is for all of you to be successful, respectful, and responsible, knowing that you can lose everything in a blink of an eye. Just continue to do better, okay?"

"Okay." She said while sniffling and hugging you tighter.

"I love you and I'm sorry if I don't say it enough or don't act like it." Autumn added while playing with her bracelet that you and Jack had bought her for her birthday.

"I love you too and that is never going to change. We are always going to be here for you no matter what."

Just then Axel peeked into the room to see the two of you and made his way in also having his report card in hand.

"Mom?"

"She's occupied! Get your own!" You heard Autumn yell and all you did was laugh.

"What the? She is MY OWN. She was my mother before she was yours! I'm two minutes ahead of you!"

"And I also made it in here before you so you can leave. We were having a moment."

"Autumn, be nice! Ax, let me see the report card."

Once again, you saw all A's and B's.

"I expected nothing less, very proud of you."

"And I haven't smoked and I got your favorite muffins. They're downstairs."

"Oh, I would have known if you smoked anyway. I look at the number of puffs you have left on your inhaler. When you were using it more, you kept saying you needed another one."

"Um…"

"Bubs, I have 24 years on you. I wasn't born yesterday." You said while smirking at him.

"Autumn, move over." Ax said and she scooted over to make more room for him. 

"Mom? Can we have tacos later?"

"Text your dad the ingredients that I need."

About two hours later, Jack walked in to see three of his oldest children surrounding you on the bed with all of you knocked out sleeping and all he could do was smile.

All he did was snap a quick picture to show you later. 

Hearing his footsteps, you fluttered your eyes open to see your husband smiling at you.

"What?" You asked while smiling back at him and all he did was hand you his phone to look at the picture he took.

"No matter how old they get, they're always going to need us."

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#jack harlow #jack harlow fic #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x black reader #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow fanfiction #jack harlow angst #jack harlow fluff #first babies of pg

[actual-changeling]

ellie learns how to draw, and, if she might say so herself, gets pretty damn good at it, especially faces. it helps her ground herself to see happy memories physically stare back at her from her sketch book, her walls, the fridge, and wherever else joel puts up her drawings. he loves all of them, even the very first ones that aren't much more than vaguely human scribbles.

the first year in jackson is a pain, and she spends most of it holed up in their house, drawing, painting (she has no idea where joel gets all the paint from and he refuses to tell her), and once they make it through their first winter together, she feels comfortable enough to show them to other people, too. mostly tommy and maria, and in a weak moment she even gifts them a drawing she made of them and their baby.

she's over at their house a lot, it's a lot more lived in and settled than theirs but they're working on it, and notices some actual pictures, the kind you take with a camera, decorating the living room. it's obvious that they're prized possessions, framed and front and center on the walls. a handful of them show maria and what must have been her family before the outbreak, others are newer. jackson does have some cameras saved for special events, and there are two pictures of them on their wedding day, and even one from a few days after the baby was born.

she doesn't think much of it until their second summer in jackson when she notices the way joel stares at the baby pictures and realizes that all he has to remember sarah by is the broken watch on his wrist. the only tangible memory and it's one of pain and death.

ellie mulls over it a lot, it keeps her up at night and while joel picks up on it, he doesn't press the issue when she refuses to talk about it, though she assures him she's fine.

it takes her another two weeks after her realization to catch tommy alone one afternoon with joel safely away on patrol, oddly nervous and unsure how to phrase what she wants to ask. eventually she manages to explain her idea and the positively soft, distantly heartbroken look he gives her makes her breath catch in her throat.

do you think he would be okay with it?

i think he would love it, sweetheart.

they sit together for hours in his kitchen, ellie is determined to make it look exactly right and urges tommy to not hold back his criticism if something isn't accurate, and by the end, they have missed dinner and her wrist hurts like hell, fingers stained with pencil lead and color, but her chest is brimming with a warm sense of accomplishment.

tommy gives her a frame and she wraps it as well as she knows how to. he insists that she gives it to him alone, but ellie draws him into an uncharacteristically tight hug before she leaves and hides her smile in his chest when he presses a hesitant kiss to her hair. family, she realizes, is pretty damn great.

the waiting is the hardest part. she puts her gift on the coffee table and paces the living room for at least half an hour while she waits for joel to return from his patrol, switching between chewing her lips and biting her nails. by the time he finally walks through the door, she has almost convinced herself to abandon the whole thing and just pretend it never happened, but then joel's there, gaze immediately softening when he sees her, and suddenly she can't wait to give it to him. it's a pretty big frame and the best paper she owns, rivaling some of her larger paintings on actual canvas, and joel has to sit down to open it without running the risk of accidentally dropping it.

i hope you like it.

the quiet tremor in her voice makes him stop halfway through unwrapping it, but she just gestures for him to continue, rocking on her feet.

tommy helped.

when the last of the paper falls away and joel sees her work for the very first time, they both hold their breath at once, even the summer breeze stilling, air brimming with something neither of them have the words for.

joel is looking at a vibrant water color painting of sarah, face at a soft angle as she wonders at a small purple butterfly resting on her finger, hand raised in front of her, eyes and smile shining brighter than the sun, hair a shimmering cloud of brown and gold. a frozen moment in time, sarah forever fourteen, capturing the love ellie feels pouring out of joel whenever he talks about her, a wave of affection and distilled joy that makes her miss a person she has never known.

i thought you might want a happy memory of her to look at, too.

ellie points at his watch, broken glass fracturing the light falling in, hand shaking.

i hope it's okay that i- if you don't want it-

joel's arms are around her before she can finish, cutting off her stuttered attempts, frame safe on the table as he hugs her so tightly her feet lift off the floor and she clings to his neck, relief bringing air back to her lungs. he holds her with his face buried in her hair, and ellie only notices he is crying when she can feel a few stray tears run down her neck. when he sets her down again, eyes glassy even after he dries his cheeks, her knees buckle under his gaze. they're both bad with feelings, bad with words, love shown through touch and gestures, through don't forget to eat, i'll stay with you until you fall asleep, fresh cups of coffee left on his nightstand before she leaves for school, hands searching for each other in the crowd again and again and again, never letting go.

love brought to life by a painting of the daughter that taught him how to be a father, made by the one that helped him find his way back to the light.

thank you, ellie.

they both know it means i love you, too, sarah immortalized on their living room wall where the morning sun illuminates her face with every sunrise.

more rambles in the tags

#alex writes tlou #the last of us #tlou #joel and ellie #joel and sarah #joel miller #ellie williams #tlou fluff #sarah miller #tommy miller #ellie and tommy #this got so much longer than i planned help this is like half a fic synopsis #this started out as ellie draws sarah for joel #and turned into whatever this is #so so so tempted to turn this into a full fic #but also listen listen i cannot draw i wish i could because i want to capture the image of that painting so desperately #blanket permission to everyone who wants to do that i will literally give you my first born #gonna sleep on the highway tonight this is killing me #this is an apology for the tommy's baby looks like sarah post #and a peace offering for all the angst to come in my fic #fr though im almost tempted to literally pay someone to draw this i am mentally ill #also ellie and tommy bonding as a bonus because i am still obsessed with that too #ellie is sarahs sister and while neither of them will every say it like that they both know its true #theyre just emotionally repressed its ok they communicate in their own way #anyway gonna try and not die now and actually get stuff done but also pls talk to me about them i am vibrating hard enough to shatter glass

[cluescorner]

I gave myself a writing challenge and I am fascinated by it

So basically I put the robins in a randomizer to give them a new order/role (because I just...kinda wanted to see what would happen + I like role-reversal AUs) and got results that are giving me a fucking brain blast.

Stephanie, the first sidekick who defines the role

Tim, the sidekick who dies and comes back wrong

Dick, the sidekick who saves Batman from himself

Damian, the sidekick who was never supposed to be a sidekick but would go on to prove everyone wrong

Jason, the youngest sidekick who is still the Kid Wonder

...So this is fucking wild. I've got some ideas and several of these fit perfectly (Dick's role is pretty similar to his one in canon), but some of these are fucking INCREDIBLE to explore (Steph being the first Robin is something I never even considered but tbh I kinda love it).

I probably won't write a fic or anything because tbh I don't like publishing my writing that much, but I might expand this into a full AU and post about it. I might randomize other stuff too (ie, stuff that I cannot change vs stuff that I cannot keep the same) but this fucking rules as a starting point.

#uhhh what am I calling this?? #randomizedrobinsau #stephanie brown #oh my god I am so excited to figure out how tf to write this. #because she's my favorite of these characters and having HER be the first sidekick + the one who has a mentor/older sister relationship #with the others?? kickass. though I'll probably keep her and Tim's relationship as 'dating-then-exes' because I think it's funny #and then SHE can be the Robin who Tim got fixated on + figured out her identity?? holy fuck and then the angst of Tim later dying #Tim Drake #tbh I kinda wish he'd gotten a different position because 'sidekick who dies' Tim has kinda been done a lot with the standard #reverse robin aus. But it'll still be fun to write. Definitely going the Joker Junior route with this because Batman Beyond kicks ass #Dick Grayson #He'll honestly probably be the easiest. Like...his role has not changed much outside of being younger/not the one who defines this #But I still think it'll be good to see how well I know Dick beyond his eldest brother thing (which is my best way of relating to him) #Damian al ghul #damian wayne #oh this is gonna kick ass #Bruce does not want his son to be a sidekick but Damian just kinda forces his way into that role #and everybody doubts him because of his history with the league but he later proves himself more than capable #to the point that he can set out mostly on his own and still thrive #Jason Todd #Jason being the baby of the family is also something I have never thought about but holy shit it could kick ass #I really hope that I don't roll 'Jason must die' or 'Robin 5 must die' on the randomizer. I just kinda want Jason to live this time #But unfortunately I double-screwed him because he's on the 'must happen' wheel twice now. I did not think these prompts through #TBH I am so happy that none of them rolled their OG roles. because that would have been so fucking boring

[didhewinkback]

Something Old

Written for @harry-on-broadway's fic challenge.

Written prompt used: "What's this, then?"

Watching your childhood best friend (& the man you've been in love with for half your life) get married proves to be harder than you thought. Will you be able to make a quick getaway to avoid further heartbreak? Or is it finally time for the truth come out?

A/N: the pic represents more of an overall vibe rather than a definite representation of what he is wearing. but the vibes of the pic are absolutely accurate. some liberties have been taken with accurate chronology of his dating life bc this is fiction town usa baby. takes place during the fine line era, in a world with no covid. dream world. please let me know what you think!

-----

There was a huge water fountain, right in the middle of the hotel courtyard, making criss-cross patterns into the pool below and you couldn’t take your eyes off of it. It was soothing, in a way. Or at least you were trying to force the concept of being soothed upon yourself, trying to focus in on the sounds of the water and the lights reflecting off of it. Anything to not think about the background noise of the party, of the clinking glasses and what that sound would mean, to think of him – nope. Back to the fountain.

Your mother cleared her throat. Her eyes had been burning holes into the side of your face but you couldn’t face her or that look of pity in her eyes. Your fingers tapped against the handle of your suitcase as you kept your eyes on the water. Just keep staring at the water.

“Did you call an Uber or…?”

“I’m just going to take the rental back to the city and go from there.”

“You could always take it back to the house. Bit of a drive but…”

The thought of walking into your childhood home, alone, while his own childhood home sat right next door was too much to bear. “I don’t,” you cleared your throat as your voice caught, “I don’t think I can be surrounded by all those memories. God, Mum, this is so embarrassing –”

“Oh, baby, no. Come here” Your mom rushed over to you and wrapped her arms around you in a death grip as you let yourself collapse into her arms, feeling 8, 15 and 26 all at once. The tears which you had been trying to save for the drive poured out of you, your mum shushing you as you buried your face into her shoulder. She stood there and held you tight, letting you release all the emotions you had pent up since you got here. You had never had an explicit conversation with her about your true feelings for Harry but with the way she was holding you, you knew you never had to. She knew. The thought made you tighten your arms around her, burying your head a little deeper as the tears flowed. Just a few more minutes.

“I’m getting your dress soaked,” you said, trying to pull your head away and pull yourself together before your mum tightened her arms around you, holding you in place.

“Could give two shits about my dress.” “Mum!” “I’m serious, I don’t care. Not when my baby is weeping in my arms.”

“Okay, I’m hardly weeping,” you huffed a laugh as you took a step back and wiped your face, looking into your mum’s kind eyes, glassy in their own right.

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk to him? Tell him what’s on your mind?”

You shook your head before she even finished her sentence. You had tried that, years ago. Winter break 2013. He had been gone almost two years, touring and traveling the world while you watched from afar at uni. You had walked down your stairs, rehearsing your big speech in your head while smoothing down the new skirt you bought for the occasion, only to look up and find him in your living room with the most famous pop star in the world in his arms. He had brought her home to “meet the family” he said. Which included you. You were just family. And he dated pop stars now. A gut punch that you quickly healed with copious amounts of tequila. And a drunken hookup with a boy from sixth form. It was fine. You were fine.

You had been best friends since you were 8, neighbors since you were 6, and for years you brushed off your crush, chocking it up to an extension of affection for your first male friend - the boy who made you laugh until you cried, who always needed help with math homework, who dragged you onto the dance floor when everyone else was too nervous to at that first school dance. The boy who stood in front of you in his bedroom, nervously singing along to a Youtube track before asking you if this was something you thought he could do, for real. The boy who invited you to join him a few weeks each summer, riding bikes through muggy Colorado streets for late night froyo or hiking those Hollywood hills. The boy growing into a man who called you when you were studying at the library, in the middle of the night halfway across the world, feeling overwhelmed by the pressure and needing a piece of home to slow his exhausted, racing mind.

This crush was something you thought you would grow out of. Except you didn’t. His life had become drastically different than the one you two had shared in your small hometown but whenever you were together, it was like no time had passed. After that fateful winter break, you had tried to keep your distance but each time you saw him, you were sucked right back in.

There had been more moments - falling over yourselves during a drunken McDonalds run, or during a screaming match in the middle of a very competitive round of charades, or when he bounded off stage after that first solo night at MSG, wrapping you in his arms and holding tightly - moments where the words were about to burst from your chest, overwhelmed by the love you felt for him. But you knew it would never work - he wasn’t interested. And, even if he was, you were nowhere near his league. Even his one night stands were straight off the Forbes 500 list. Not that you were ashamed of yourself or who you had become, you just knew, for many reasons, that there was a disconnect there. He wasn’t interested. You were family. You had to keep it that way.

You steeled yourself to get over it, to be okay with just being his friend. And you had convinced yourself it worked. You had met his girlfriends over the years; no longer tearing yourself apart in comparison as you blossomed into that confidence that comes with getting older and finding your place in the world. Falling into relationships with some really great guys, guys that you really cared for, who made you laugh and met your family on your birthdays. But no matter how hard you tried, those relationships always seemed to fizzle out because you never felt that spark. That once in a lifetime spark. That spark you felt the second you saw him yesterday - a smile blooming across his face as his arms lifted up in a cheer when he locked eyes with you. All that hard work shot to shit in an instant.

You snapped back to reality, shaking your head more fiercely, desperately trying to get those memories to fall out of your head forever. “That’s not how he sees me, Mum. It’s not - this is just something I have to get over. But I can’t do it here.”

Her face fell, before she took a deep breath and steeled herself. “Okay,” she said, looking at you with new determination. “So, what’s the story? Work emergency? Appendicitis? Stomach virus? Uncontrollable pooping?”

“Mum! Oh my god!”

“What?!” she shrugged, her eyes glowing with a playful twinkle as she watched the smile grow on your face. “I just feel like the more details we provide, the more believable it will be.”

“Whatever you have to do,” you said, rolling your eyes as you pulled her into another hug.

“It’ll be okay, lovebug,” she whispered in your ear. “This pain won’t last forever. He’s not the be all, end all.”

“Why does it feel like it then?” you said softly, tightening your arms around her, unable to stop yourself when more tears began to fall. “I really have to get going, I don’t want anyone to see -”

Suddenly, the sounds of the party got progressively louder as the doors swung open. Your stomach sank as you heard the last voice you wanted to hear. “There you are! Been looking all over for you two. Ang? - Oh. ”

“Yeah?” Your mom turned to face him, blocking you from view as you furiously wiped away your tears.

“Mum’s been looking all over for you. Something about a bet involving tequila shots…”

“Ah, was hoping she’d forget about that. Tell her I’ll be in in a bit, just need to help this one -”

You cleared your throat, keeping your head down as you nudged her forward. “No, Mum, it's fine. Go in. I’ll be okay.”

She turned to look at you, eyes searching. “But you’re not feeling. well.” She emphasized her point by placing her hand on your forehead. Oh, god. No Oscar in her future then.

You looked at her, feeling his eyes on you, shaking your head. “It’s okay. Really. Have fun”.

“Love you.” She kissed you on the cheek as she squeezed your hand, whispering, “Be brave”.

You kept your eyes to the ground as you heard her walk inside, closing the doors behind her. Enveloping the two of you in silence. You looked up, taking him in for the first time all night. He knocked the wind out of you.

His white suit was tailored to perfection, the dress shirt open in a deep v down his chest, revealing the smattering of tattoos that you swore he’d regret one day, but that only looked perfectly in place as his muscles grew more defined. His hair, curls tousled just the way you liked it. The smattering of scruff along his chiseled jawline, held tightly as he took in the scene in front of him. He looked good.

You can’t imagine what you looked like. Tear tracks streaking down your face and hair messy from how often you had been nervously running your hands through it. Dressed for a cocktail hour while wearing your sneakers for the quick getaway. You had to get the fuck out of here.

“Thought only the bride was supposed to wear white.” The words slipped out of your mouth before you had the chance to stop them. This was not the time for banter. You should be in the car already, leaving all this behind you. You snuck a look at his face, his green eyes locking with yours, his brow furrowed in confusion.

He looked right at you, his deep voice rumbling as he shot back, “Wanted to be dramatic. It’s my day too.”

“Classic H.” you said. You could not get your feet to move. Your car was no more than 10 paces away and yet here you were, frozen under his questioning gaze.

“What’s all this, then?” he asked, as he took in your suitcase, the car keys fiddling around in your hand. “You’re leaving?”

“Yeah. Uh, a work emergency came up.”

“Bullshit.”

“No it’s not -”

“Your mum just said you weren’t feeling well.”

Shit. “Both things are true. H, please just - I have to go.”

“No, I think I have the right to know why my best mate is leaving my wedding weekend early. Why you’re standing out here with your mum and - are you - were you crying?” He looks desperately confused, eyes searching your face. “Need you to talk to me.”

He takes a few steps towards you when he notices your hands visibly starting to shake. “Hey, hey…” He reaches his hands towards yours as you quickly put your hands on your suitcase, pulling it towards you. You take a few steps back and try to take a few steadying breaths.

“Please,” your voice was barely a whisper. “You won’t even notice I’m gone.”

“I always notice when you're gone. Haven’t been able to find you all night, I’ve been trying to hang out with you. Wanted to spend time with you.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to block out the look on his face, trying to not think too hard about those words. Trying to be casual, nonchalant. Trying to be anything but the crumbling mess you were in front of him. “C’mon, I’m not even in the wedding party it’ll be better -”

“Is that what this is about? You knew we were keeping it small on purpose, didn’t think you needed to be in the bridal party to know how much y’mean to me but I guess–”

Anger suddenly swirled in you, turning your cheeks warm, eyes blazing. As if you’d be out here having a full mental breakdown over something so trivial. You scoffed, “You think I’m out here crying because of some arbitrary fucking title? You know that’s never mattered to me when it comes to you.”

“Then WHAT is going on with you?”

“Can you please just drop it and let me –”

“It’s my fucking wedding, you’ve been avoiding me ever since you got here. I need you here and you’re just standing outside with your car keys and your fucking suitcase like it’s nothing. Like I’m nothing–

“Oh my god, how can you even say that – ”

“Well, what am I supposed to think? I’m flying blind here you won’t TALK to me–”

“I CAN’T WATCH YOU MARRY HER!”

The words were loud, louder than you meant them and out faster than you could stop them. Fuck. This was. Not. How This. Was supposed to go. You shut your eyes. Your mind was racing, mouth trying to move to make an excuse but you couldn’t think of anything and then you hear a derisive snort, your eyes flying open to see his, suddenly colder, taunting.

“‘S that what this is about, then? Never did like her, did you? Always wondered when we’d have this conversation. Thought you may have been a little more fair and try to do it before my wedding weekend but hey, guess I’m not the only one who can be dramatic.”

You stood there, gaping at him, tears pricking your eyes as he glared back at you.

“Let’s hear it, then. What’s so wrong with her?”

Oh, he misunderstood. You could let him think this is the truth, that you’re just some bitchy childhood friend who never approved of the fiancée and waited until the last moment to make a dramatic exit. You could leave right now and let him think that. But he needed to know the truth, as painful as it may be. You began to shake your head, the tears seconds from pouring out.

“No, that’s not - you’re not understanding me.”

“Am I not? Seems pretty clear to me” His tone was still taunting, angry. He had every right to be. This was supposed to be the biggest weekend of his life and here he was, out here with you, instead of partying with all of his loved ones mere feet away. The thought of it made the tears spill over, a small sob escaping you. Through the tears you saw his face drop, his brows furrowing.

“It’s not her. She’s lovely. She’s so lovely and you should be in there with her. You could be marrying fucking Beyonce and I wouldn’t be okay with it. I … I can’t watch you marry someone else without - without wishing it was me instead.”

You watched as he froze, his eyes widening. In shock? Anger? Pity? You weren’t quite sure.

You took a deep breath and kept going, continuing to dig yourself into the grave of your own making. Every part of you was screaming at you to stop, but now that you got started, the words kept coming, “I’ve been in love with you since we were like 15. You’re my best friend in the whole world and I…god, I can’t breathe when I look at you sometimes. You’re the first person I want to make laugh with a new lame joke, the first person I want to share good news with. The first person I want to do anything with. You’re kinda it for me. Always have been. You’re just my favorite person in the world. And I –”

You shook your head, cutting yourself off. Your heart was about to beat out of your chest, your cheeks burning. You stand there, slightly panting, watching him watch you, his own eyes glassy, his own breath coming in fast spurts. Neither of you dared to move.

You stand there, watching as your confession explodes between the two of you, helpless to do anything but stand in the carnage. It is deadly silent. A minute passes, then another. It could be five, it could be twenty. What did you just do?

“Fuck, fuck, I’m sorry.”, you said frantically, your brain finally catching up to your mouth. “You should go back inside. I’m –”

He inhales sharply, head shaking in disbelief, “Y’think - y’think I’m going to go back in there right now? After–? Fuck.”

He drags his hand down his face, bringing his other hand to meet it and standing there with his head in his hands. You wish you could get a good read on him, to tell how he’s feeling, but you just stand there, heart beating wildly, in disbelief of what you have done.

“I’ve got a reception hall full of people here.”

“I know.”

“People traveled for this.”

“I know.”

“Why - why now? I had no fucking idea. Why’d you never tell me before?”

“I tried, but the timing was never right – ”

“Yeah, well, your timing right now is impeccable,” he deadpanned.

You rolled your eyes, though his sense of humor reappearing made a zing of hope run through you. Maybe he won't hate you forever. Maybe, one day, the friendship could be salvaged. Maybe you didn’t just embarrass yourself beyond belief - though your burning cheeks indicate otherwise.

He clears his throat, pulling you out of your racing mind. “This whole time…you’ve felt this way? This whole time?”

You had been expecting to confess and run. For him to smile politely at you, let you down easy. You had spent your whole life believing this was a one sided thing. But here he was, looking utterly wrecked, his green eyes never once wavering from yours.

“Yes, H,” you told him. “I’ve loved you this whole time.”

You watch as his face crumbles slightly. He brings a hand up to his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose, a mumbled, shaky “fuck” leaving his lips.

You clear your throat and wipe at your eyes, praying your waterproof mascara is doing its job. As much as you want to live in this fantasy of possibilities, you can’t let yourself make more of a mess of this than you already have. He was getting married. Tomorrow.

“H, the last thing I ever wanted to do is ruin this for you”, your voice shakes the more you look at him, “I will be fine. You should go back inside. I’m going to go.” You grab your suitcase and keys and start to make your way to the car. The sound of his voice calling your name stops you in your tracks.

“Don’t,” he says, his voice cracking.

You turn to face him, finding him staring right back at you. His glassy eyes ablaze, his jaw set. You don’t make a sound.

“Please.” He closes the distance between you in a few quick strides. Hesitantly, he lifts his hand to your jaw. You’re sure he can feel the warmth there, blooming at his touch. You lock eyes with him, both of you barely breathing. After a second, his thumb caresses your cheekbone, his eyes fluttering closed. He leans his forehead against yours and you can feel his hot breath on your lips, the smell of mint and tequila filling your nose. You might pass out.

“This is a lot to process,'' he whispers.

“I know.” You try to pull your head back a bit to give him space, but he holds you steady in his grip. His other hand falls to your waist, both of you inhaling sharply at the contact.

“I have to go back in there. Supposed to get married tomorrow,” he whispers as his thumb starts to draw circles on your hip bone. You’re sure even he can hear your heartbeat at this point, the way it’s thundering in your ears.

“Y-you don’t owe me anything, you know”, you whisper back, his brow furrowing as he feels your breath on his lips. “Just because I told you. There’s no pressure or anything. I know, like… I’m not….I’m not expecting - I should -”

He takes a step closer to you, pulling you flush against him, effectively cutting you off. “Don’t. You can’t. ‘S not pressure, I just - I don’t know”, he takes a deep breath, “I need time. Please. Don’t leave. You don’t have to go back in there but don’t leave tonight. Please.”

He kisses you on the cheek.

“Please.” His words fall across your lips as he moves to kiss your other cheek.

“Fuck. I wish…just - please don’t go.” He leans in slowly, kissing you once on the neck, right below your ear, inhaling deeply. His forehead falls to your collarbone, resting there. “You can’t go, not yet. Not until…Please. I need time to think. I don’t know. Promise me you’ll still be here later tonight.”

He lifts his head, holding eye contact with you until you nod, bringing your hand up to wrap around his wrist, moving your thumb in soothing circles. He stares at you, eyes dropping to your lips, then back up to meet your eyes. His grip on your hip tightens, his eyes dropping to your lips once more.

You hear glasses tinkering, calls of his name. Shit. You take a step back, his hand sliding from your jaw to your wrist, holding a loose grip. Your cheeks burning at how caught up in the moment you got, head reeling at what this could all mean.

“I have to -” “I know.”

He leans in, presses his lips to your forehead, not once letting go of your wrist.

He steps back, his glassy eyes flitting all over your face before meeting yours once more and holding your gaze. “You’ll be at the hotel later tonight? You promise?”

“I promise,” you say, squeezing his hand once before letting go.

He nods sharply, walking backwards towards the door, eyes never leaving yours. He stops right before the entrance, quickly wiping at his eyes, shaking his head. You can see him physically brace himself as he pulls the door open, a tight smile on his lips as he gets pulled into the party once more.

The doors close, once again surrounding you with silence. With your own thoughts. The feeling of his lips on your neck playing over and over again in your mind.

Holy. Shit.

#harry styles fan fiction #harryonbroadwayficchallenge #harry styles angst #would u believe this was supposed to be posted 3 hours ago but i got so hung up on one detail that i couldnt iron out #i am a gal who loves run on sentences with commas and for that i will not apologize #fic rec #babys first fic #cant believe we are here #harry styles fic #i have read this so many times i started to hate it thats when ya know its time to post #just losing it in the tags over here #something old

[neverevan]

Tease Tidbit Tuesday 🌟

I was tagged by @thewolvesof1998 @jamespearce9-1-1 @daffi-990 and @wikiangela thank youuu 🫶

I've been tinkering with the screaming universe fic (among other things) and I'm still a little uncertain about some parts of it, but I'm making progress... anyway, please have this angsty tidbit:

Eddie asked him to move in on Sunday and Buck could still picture the way his smile wilted and turned into a first confused then angry frown when Buck let the silence stretch instead of an answer.

“So let me get this straight. You moved in with most of your girlfriends after a couple of months, I ask you after nearly a year and you get tongue tied? Seriously, Buck?” His nostrils were flaring and the volume of his voice was climbing higher and higher with each word and Buck still couldn’t utter a word. Not a fucking one.

“Fine. Have it your way then.” Eddie walked into his bedroom and slammed the door shut, leaving Buck to stand in the middle of Eddie’s living room, still unable to conjure up anything to say.

He stood there frozen and mute until he felt like he could move his legs without collapsing and then he was out of the house and behind the wheel and through the loft’s door before he could make a sound again.

And that sound was an ugly sob of guilt and the inevitability of heartbreak.

✨no pressure tagging: @malewifediaz @spagheddiediaz @jeeyuns @eddiebabygirldiaz @hippolotamus @disasterbuckdiaz @nmcggg @watchyourbuck @theotherbuckley @fortheloveofbuddie @ladydorian05 @rainbow-nerdss

#I swear it's more fluff than angst but... yeah it has some angst and this isn't really the worst of it #anyway #this is only no2 of the whole 5+1 though #and though I'm keep adding to the notes and the draft this is not even on my active wip list #I'll get to it eventually but I wanna finish up my other stuff first #I miss my mudslide babies 😪 #buddie #911 #wip #the screaming universe fic

[twinkalicious]

no cause the fact that richter thought alucard was a myth is absolutely killing me. he grew up hearing stories of his ancestors' heroism, but for some reason a central figure of those stories was merely a legend to him, an immortal fantasy creature who he never got to meet. honestly i'm willing to bet his own mother and grandfather and any other belmonts before them didn't either. they only told the stories of defeating dracula as their parents did before them, thinking them dramatized and never literal. it became a game of telephone, with each person doubting the existence of a friendly dhampir ally more and more because alucard wasn't there to corroborate it. alucard separated himself from the belmonts at some point. he wasn't there to see trevor and sypha's lineage despite the fact that they merged their houses and literally founded a city together. speculating the when and why is going to drive me absolutely insane, you don't understand.

#i like to think he got sick of watching them all grow old and die #like maybe after he watches trevor and sypha's babies and grandbabies die he says ok i cant keep doing this #dozens and dozens of mortals who all have trevors humor and syphas whit and their eyes and their hair and their faces all bleeding together #alucard probably left after the first few generations because he knew he couldnt keep doing it over and over again #he couldnt lose them time and time again #the fact that richter has trevor's face and sypha's eyes is going to be a problem i think #trephacard #i am feeling angst in this chillis tonight they had BETTER EXPLAIN when and why alucard broke away from the belmont/belnades line #castlevania nocturne #AND ANOTHER THING #wonder if alucard will feel any misplaced guilt about not being there to protect the belmont descendants and their loved ones #god i hope im wrong and richter was just the outlier in not meeting the immortal family friend #also known as the belmonts' living family heirloom that i lowkey headcanon him as 😭

[francy-sketches]

little baby in a silly hat

#my art #got #baby's first day at the top of the feudal society benefitting from the suffering of the poor aw 🥺 #i forgive him tho bc he looks very polite #im going thru my canon oc era with show tommen specifically #idk y #hes got added teen angst he appeals to my inner edgy middle schooler #the whole 'watching all your friends blow up from your bedroom window' thing is so contrived i would 100% have written something like that #as a sad oc backstory #plus the whole dead family thing #wait omg off topic but i had an oc that was literally cersei. but a cat. and she was my fave <3 #so true past me

[rapidhighway]

Oh god does anyone listen to the band Red does anyone remember Red? Did anyone here listen to the bad Red? It's pulling me back it's so good augh

#bro i was literally so tiny when i first listened to it thgbvvfhy #baby's first angst