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#but like you can't tell me she wouldn't say this
woso-dreamzzz · 3 days
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Jealous
Hardersson x Child!Reader
Part of The Big Adventures Universe
Summary: Pernille's a little jealous
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Pernille wouldn't call herself a jealous person. She's never really wanted what others had. She's never looked at something someone has had and desperately wanted it for herself.
Similarly, she's never had a problem with people looking at Magda. She's never had a problem with fans fawning over her or some girl trying to dance with her at a club.
Pernille knows Magda loves her. She knows that Magda would never stray. They have you together. They've built a family together.
Pernille knows that you and her are the most important things in Magda's life.
Which is why it's strange that she's feeling jealous right now.
She'd just come in from training, hair slightly damp from the sudden rain shower that appeared and feeling glad she had sent you inside with Magda earlier.
Magda had cut her own session short after feeling a twinge in her ankle so went in to get it taped as a precaution.
The physio's office is where Pernille finds you and her now.
Magda's sitting in one of the beds, leg stretched outwards as one of the new physios massages her leg despite it being an ankle injury that sent her indoors.
You're in her lap and Magda's desperately trying to braid your hair back from where it's escaped from your hair tie.
She's not doing very well. Usually, she'll just throw it up into a ponytail and call it a day but Pernille thinks it's nice that Magda's trying so hard to give you a hairstyle that you'll really like.
It's a brief thought though as Pernille's eyes focus on the young physio.
She's talking to you in particular, nodding along as you babble about what you did last night and how Magda read your bedtime story and how you slept in her newest Sweden jersey.
The physio smiles at you before glancing up at Magda. "You're feeling really tight there, Mags. Really having to use all my strength here."
It's a blatant attempt at flirting as the physio bats her eyes a few times before letting out a groan of effort that could easily be sexual.
It makes Pernille's blood boil. One, because it's very obvious that she and Magda are together and two, that this new physio is using you to try and worm her way into Magda's heart.
She's fawning and cooing over you and Magda (poor, sweet, oblivious Magda) can't even tell.
That's the other annoying bit. Magda has no clue she's being flirted with and that really pisses Pernille off. It's not the first time something like this has happened before either.
Magda never knew when a girl was flirting with her. She never knew until they attempted to kiss her and Pernille had hoped that the years would have made Magda more aware of it happening but clearly not.
The physio giggles again and it takes everything in Pernille not to snap at her.
Instead, she plucks you off Magda's lap without saying anything, adjusting you so you're on her hip.
"I'm taking her home," She says, trying not to lose her temper as the physio inches her hands further up Magda's leg," The rain isn't going to let up anytime soon. Practice is postponed."
"Give me a few minutes," Magda says," We're nearly done here."
The physio pouts and it sends another bolt of anger down Pernille's spine. She doesn't like the way her hand it still on Magda's leg. It's inappropriate for work.
If Magda needs her leg massaged then Pernille would be happy to do it herself at home.
"I need to grab my bag." She says instead," If you're not by the car in five minutes then I'm leaving without you."
Momma walks off without Morsa, who scrambles away from the weird lady who was touching her.
You frown.
Momma doesn't talk to Morsa like that, all angry and annoyed. It's strange.
"Momma," You say as Momma grabs her bag and makes her way out to the car," Why's Morsa not coming with?"
Momma's jaw is clenched. You can tell.
"That's your Morsa's choice," Momma tells you as she straps you into your seat.
She slides into her chair just as Morsa comes running out the building.
She tries to open the passenger door but can't.
Momma's locked it.
"Pernille!" Magda bangs on the window. "Pernille, come on! I'm here!"
"You're late."
"I was just talking to Elizab-"
"Elizabeth!" Pernille snaps and your head ping pongs between them," Well, why don't you go back to talking to Elizabeth while you wait for your taxi to turn up!"
"Pernille! Really? Are we really going to argue right now? I don't even know what I've done wrong!"
"Then you've got lots of time on the trip home to work it out!"
Magda is silent for a while before it all seems to dawn on her. "Is this really about Elizabeth? Pernille-"
"You better not be about to tell me that it's all in my head! Her hands were way too high up to be a massage. In front of Princesse as well! In front of our child!"
"Let me in!" Magda says," I promise that I didn't realise! I thought she was just being helpful."
Pernille draws in a long breath. She knows that she's being irrational but sometimes these things just creep up on her.
She unlocks the car and Magda slips in.
"Hi, Morsa!" you chirp and she looks back to look at you.
"Hi, Princesse."
"Why'd Momma lock you out?"
Magda almost laughs as Pernille's hands clench around the steering wheel, pulling out of the parking spot and beginning to drive home.
"Well, I'm a little silly sometimes. Do you know what flirting is?"
You nod. "Like how Sam's girlfriend makes her feel all giggly and silly by talking to her."
"Exactly like that," Magda laughs," Well, Elizabeth was trying to flirt with me but I'm silly so I didn't notice."
"Oh," You say," That's bad because you're with Momma."
"That's right so that upset Momma a little bit," Magda continues," And when I didn't react to her flirting, she tried touching me to see if I was interested."
You frown. "Is that why she offered you the massage even though you hurt your ankle and not your knee?"
"That's-"
"She asked about it in front of Princesse?!" Pernille demands before this whole situation becomes a bit too funny for her liking. "And you didn't realise, Magda? God, how oblivious are you?"
Magda's cheeks go red with embarrassment. "Well," She says," I know you like me hot and oblivious. That way no one can take me from you."
Pernille full on laughs. "As if you would let yourself be taken."
"And Momma didn't like her touching you either?" You ask, your mind still trying to work out what has just happened.
"I didn't like it at all," Pernille says," And I was very annoyed that your Morsa let it happen."
The car is silent for a few minutes as you turn it over in your head before calling for Magda's attention again.
"You should tell Elizabeth that Momma will beat her up if she tries it again!"
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milswrites · 1 day
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The Trials of Aphrodite Part Three
~ Azriel X Fem!Reader
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Series Masterlist
Series summary: Hopelessly in love with Elain, Azriel enlists your help in order to win her over. The only problem? You have been in love with Azriel for as long as you have known him.
Chapter summary: Azriel receives a lesson in flirting.
Warnings: A bit of angsty pining. Teeny bit of suggestiveness.
It was a familiar scene; you staring at Azriel.
And Azriel staring at her.
Want swimming in his hazel eyes as he absorbed Elain's glowing figure as she pottered about in her garden, lips parted in awe as he took in her soft features and natural beauty.
All the while your eyes stayed locked on him. Wonder filling your own gaze as you marveled at the admiration which flowed freely from the male next to you. Azriel's intense stare providing you with an insight into all the love he had to give. A love that would never be reserved only for you. A type of love that he would only ever feel for Elain.
"So how's this going to work?" you ask in an attempt to break Azriel from his lovestruck spell, swallowing your pain as you noticed the love draining from his eyes as he turned his gaze to you.
"I don't know, I was hoping you would tell me what to do" he nervously mumbled, peeking back over the rosebush the two of you were hidden behind to double check that Elain hadn't spotted you.
"Gods this is ridiculous, Az just go over and talk to her!" you exclaimed, your raised voice being met with the anxious shushing of your worrisome friend who was afraid of being caught.
"Gee thanks I wonder why I haven't thought about doing that before. . . It's because I can't!" his sarcastic reply was met with a flat look from you, certain that the only reason Azriel was finding this difficult was because he was the one making it that way.
"Az, how hard can it be? Just compliment her or something!" you sighed, wondering how Azriel could ooze confidence in every aspect of his life apart from when it comes to romance.
"It's not that easy. I've tried. . . look last time I complimented her I asked her if she was the cauldron because I wanted to drown in her eyes" he awkwardly admitted, embarrassed eyes cast to the ground in shame.
"You compared Elain to the cauldron?" you asked unimpressed, astounded at your friend's boundless stupidity, "Elain who quite literally drowned in the cauldron in what was probably the most traumatizing event of her life."
"I didn't say the line worked" Azriel grumbled, not liking the chuckle of disbelief which slipped from your lips at his hopelessness.
"Obviously not, we wouldn't be crouched behind a bush right now if it did" you retorted, unable to stop the fit of giggles which followed as you tried to imagine Azriel's pitiful attempt of flirting backfiring on him.
"Are you going to help me or are you just going to sit there and laugh at me?" Azriel huffed, not sharing in your amusement at his misery.
"Fine, fine. Just go over there and compliment her dress, girls like it when guys notice that kind of thing" you suggest, trying not to turn red as you recall the time when Azriel had first complimented one of your own dresses, having continued to wear it every time you saw him for the next few months with the hope of him praising you again.
"Great, what do I say?" your friend asked, but not before you shoved him right into the heat of the fire by pushing him out from behind the rosebush. Azriel stumbling away from the safety of his hiding spot.
"Azriel? What are you doing here?" Elain's gentle voice called out from where she was stood. A quick flash of Azriel's burning gaze a warning that the two of you would be talking about this later.
"Elain!" Azriel loudly starts as he slowly makes his way towards Elain, his awkward manner already making you cringe in discomfort, "Your dress! it's nice. . . and pink. Nice and pink."
It took everything in you not to hang your head into your palm in shame, finding it incredulous how one person could fail so miserably when it came to talking to someone.
Thankfully, if Elain found his behaviour strange she didn't let on, instead replying to his strange attempt of a compliment with an airy giggle and a polite thank you.
"Great! Well um. . ." your ears perk, brows furrowing in confusion as you wait to see what Azriel says next, "Hope you have a nice day!"
With that Azriel swiftly left, abruptly ending the painfully awkward conversation before leaving the garden, hurriedly making his way up the nearest street in order to escape his discomfort. Chasing after your flustered friend, you followed after him, hoping that Elain hadn't noticed you were also there listening in on their conversation.
"Nice and pink? Have a nice day?" you laughed, having caught up to Azriel, “I’ve met Middengard Wyrm’s that flirt better than you just did." Not failing to miss the dusty pink hue that had blossomed across Azriel’s cheeks in wake of his embarrassment. 
“I can flirt,” he swiftly defended, hazel eyes rolling towards the back of his head as he noted the teasing smile which had graced your lips, “I was just caught off guard that’s all.”
“Ah ok, you were caught off guard. Is that the reason why you practically screamed in Elain’s face?” you smirked, working to deepen your friend’s blush until the growing redness spread to his ears.
“I didn’t scream-” Azriel didn’t fail to miss the way your face contorted into a wince at his hopeless denial, his once heated words now converting into a low conscious murmur, “Was it really that bad?”
You stretch out a reassuring hand to come and rest against Azriel’s slumped shoulder, thumb instinctively moving to rub comforting circles into his taut muscle. Eyebrows knitting together in pained sympathy, you answer honestly, “Maybe it was a little pathetic. . .You won't be tending to Elain's garden any time soon if that was anything to go by."
There was no stopping Azriel’s despondent sigh, not even the gentle caress of his shadows against his shaking hands brought the male any solace, the swirling black tendrils failing to sate their master's rising panic as it washed over him.
It was a horrible sight, seeing your friend so dejected. Your heart twinging at the way his anxious breath rattled in his chest. You would offer him your understanding if you could, take his trembling hands into your own and tell Azriel that you were all too familiar with the feeling of getting tongue tied around the person you so longed for. Yet no confession of your shared failures in the romance department would fix this, not when Azriel was the one who owned your heart. Not when you had promised him help in winning over another.
And so you didn’t share your hidden truth with the male, instead opting to lock it away into the darkest depths of your heart. It was a secret you were willing to keep forever, so only to ensure the happiness of your friend. A secret you would carry with you to your grave if Azriel’s plan goes as intended. 
Instead you offer Azriel the only thing you could; your comfort. The supportive hand which had been resting on his shoulder now travelling down his arm. His shadows parting briefly to allow you to lock your fingers with his own, the smoky wisps resuming their soothing dance once your hands were comfortably entwined.
One touch. That was all it took to pull Azriel from the wave of panic that had consumed him. The familiar touch of your palm against his own enough to steady his uneven breaths and calm his shaking hands.
"Its ok," you promise, confident gaze meeting his own uncertain stare, "you've not ruined anything. All you need is a little more confidence and she'll be under your spell. Trust me, one flirty little one liner from you and it will be impossible for her to be anything but in love."
"I can manage one I suppose" Azriel attempts to agree confidently yet his words read more like a question, removing his hand from your own to ruffle his hair in thought.
"Maybe you could ask Lucien for tips, Feyre tells me he's quite the flirt'' you tease, hoping the mention of Lucien's name would spur on Azriel's desire to act on his feelings for Elain.
"I don't need help when it comes to flirting, and certainly not from him" he grit the words through his teeth having predictably taken the bait you had laid out for him.
"Hmm I'm not sure, your skills were a little lacklustre from what I could see" you continue to goad him, each prod and poke working to build your friends confidence bit by bit.
"Lacklustre?" Azriel scoffed in disbelief, all anxiety having been drained from his eyes and replaced with the spark of a challenge.
"You wouldn't have me swooning" you shrug casually, mouth twisting into a playful smirk at Azriel's displeasure.
“No?” Azriel asked in faux surprise, the male taking a slow step towards you, “not even if I did this?”
 A gentle push of the tips of Azriel's fingers against the exposed skin of your chest found you stumbling backwards until you were pressed against the wall. Your teasing smile fading as your shock consumed you, heart fluttering as Azriel's arms came to cage you on either side. “Or this?” he continued, leaning in close enough that the warmth of his breath against your neck began to send shivers down your spine. Your knees wobbling at the intensity of his gaze.
“I thought flirting included words?” you breathed out heavily, trapped under the heat of his gaze.
“Why use words when I could take you apart with less than that?” he lowly whispered into your ear, a glint of darkness in his eyes as a cruel smirk appeared on his lips. You found yourself speechless, entranced by the playfulness of his devilishly handsome features, your deep breaths falling in time with his own as he witnessed your stunned reaction to his words.
"I think Elain will find my flirting perfectly adequate" he smiled, shattering the moment as he mentioned the woman that he truly wished was captured between his arms. Reminding you that his flirtacious quip wasn't for you; it was for her.
"Maybe that's a bit much Az" you state sourly, moving your hand to his chest in order to push him away and slip under his outstretched arm, "I don't know how well Elain will take it if you come on that strong."
"You didn't seem to mind" he answered cheerfully, failing to notice your sudden change in mood, the male still trying to continue his teasing banter.
"I think you'll find there's more to women than just sex and physical attraction" you scoffed, desperately wanting nothing more than to move on from this conversation. Yet Azriel wouldn't provide you with that mercy, his next question almost enough to make you sick.
"What would you say then? To someone you loved, someone you pined after?"
You debated not answering him, dismissing his curiosity to spare you from the pain and embarrassment that would no doubt ensue. Yet a small part of you wondered if this would be your only chance. That perhaps you had the wrong idea, locking away your feelings, maybe all you needed was to get them off your chest. To lift the weight from your shoulders, allow yourself to finally move on from the male who would never be interested in you.
So you took the leap, looking your fear in the face as you stared into Azriel's expectant eyes.
And you confessed.
"I would tell him the truth. Tell him how not a day passes where I don't feel madly, uncontrollably in love with him. That any moment I'm not near him I find myself unable to breathe, unable to be satisfied until I am in his company. And I'd tell him that loving him makes me a fool, that I would never fail to sacrifice my happiness if only to see him smile. That love has made me it's servant and I am all too willing to bow before it."
"Sounds to me like you're an expert in love" Azriel answered after a thoughtful pause, a flicker of a smile working its way onto his face.
"I don't think I know what love is" you replied, still waiting for the moment of relief to come, failing to understand that it was a gift you would never receive.
"Nonsense, he's a lucky guy. I'm sure he feels for you as deeply as you do for him" Azriel cheerfully reassured you, looking absolutely delighted by the prospect of you being in love with someone. Completely unaware that he was the male you were speaking of. That he was the person you would struggle to live without.
And as you shook away the consoling shadow which had tentatively approached you, you wondered if your heart would ever be free from the chains of Azriel's own design.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Notes: Thank you to @daily-dose-of-sass for unknowingly falling into my trap and giving me the most perfect pick up line for Azriel to have used 😌
Bit more of a look at the dynamic of their friendship in this one!
Taglist Part 1:
@a-cup-of-nightshade @yearninglustfully @illyrianbitch @ninaduchess @sarawritestories @annaaaaa88 @antiquecultist @madelyncullen @erencvlt @chaytea06 @dxjaaaa @saltedcoffeescotch @spark1epuffba11s @thestartitaness @amysangel @historygeekqueen @thelov3lybookworm @aaronwarnerobsessedmylove @willowpains @thebeautifulmysteriesoflife @dreamlandreader @sidthedollface2 @leeknows-wife @riorgail @eve175 @evergreenlark @anuttellaa @daily-dose-of-sass @Jesus-is-me @tothestarsandwhateverend
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sunflowerskies00 · 3 days
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too sweet, part 6
to go to bed before the daylight
series master list
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liked by lhughes_06, jackhughes, and others
yourusername: quick trip to jersey to see 2/3 of the goons
tagged: lhughes_06 and jackhughes
lhughes_06: the way you refused to wear my jersey
jackhughes: plz she would've worn mine if she wore one yourusername: this is literally why I didn't wear one and have the jacket- so you two goons can't fight _quinnhughes: she wears my jersey when she comes to my games yourusername: QUINTON you weren't supposed to tell them lhughes_06: you wear Quinn's jersey and not mine?? I'm literally you're twin???? jackhughes: this is betrayal in it's worst form yoursername: you guys are so dramatic I can't
_quinnhughes: so you go to jersey but won't come to vancouver?
yourusername: quinn bffr I'm going to be there in like two weeks _quinnhughes: you still went to jersey first yourusername: luke is my twin? we literally shared a womb- i missed my twinny lhughes_06: so basically she's saying I'm the favorite yourusername: not what I said actually lhughes_06: agree to disagree
rutgermcgroarty: so you just go to jersey and forget about all of us?
yourusername: calm down I go 30 seconds without answering a text and it's like the world is over rutgermcgroarty: the world is over yourusername: anyone ever told you ur a drama queen? rutgermcgroarty: hmmmm don't think so yourusername: well then allow me to be the first- ur a drama queen luca.fantilli: y/n spitting facts markestapa: rut we've definitely called you a drama queen before dylanduke25: most dramatic guy I know rutgermcgroarty: i did not come here to be bullied rutermcgroarty: also have we all forgotten edwards exists?? yourusername: fair you guys might be tied for most dramatic edwards.73: i am not dramatic yourusername: yes you are rutgermcgroarty: yes you are markestapa: yes you are luca.fantilli: yes you are dylanduke25: yes you are lhughes_06: you definitely are
alexturcotte_: what a supportive sister
yourusername: fr! i'm the best I know alexturcotte_: best hughes child confirmed trevorzegras: ^real jackhughes: my own friend picking my sister over me. smh you can't trust anyone yourusername: maybe you should just be better jackhughes then they wouldn't pick me
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liked by _quinnhughes and others
yourusername: had to come to vancouver to see huggy bear play *see second photo for what i wore to the game*
jackhughes: still can't believe you wear his jersey but won't wear mine to a game
lhughes_06: seems unfair really yourusername: i am not picking between the two of you so get over it
_quinnhughes: thanks for flying all the way here ❤️
yourusername: thanks for letting me take over your apartment _quinnhughes: anytime kiddo trevorzegras: well isn't this just a wholesome little comment thread _quinnhughes: well it was until you got here trevorzegras: rude _quinnhughes: true
dylanduke25: sooo you're on your back to mich then? we can't handle him anymore
yourusername: he's a big boy he'll be fine yourusername: but yes I'm literally on my way back now rutgermcgroarty: thank god I can't take this moping luca.fantilli: fr pity party of one up in this bitch markestapa: can you ask the pilot to fly faster please? edwards.73: you guys are a pain yourusername: bunch of drama queens
taylorrose: a traveling queen
yourusername: traveling queen sponsored by my rich hockey playing brothers taylorrose: at least they're good for something yourusername: amen lhughes_06: rude jackhughes: rude _quinnhughes: rude
username25: thank you y/n hughes for the captain quinn content
yourusername: anything for the people 🫡
edwards.73: come home
yourusername: i'm working on it, i can't make a plane go faster markestapa: whipped rutgermcgroarty: a little bit obvious there dontcha think bud? lhughes_06: wtf is going on trevorzegras: c'mon bud use your brain you can figure it out
username45: so we're all just ignoring these weird exchanges in the comments? cool.
username32: just let them think they're slick
tags: @love4ldr
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Text
The creator had a:
sea streaked child
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WC:800
Cw: reader is said to breastfeed but isn't written doing so
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Checking the blinds to make sure they were clean, remaking the ruffles so they are even.
Furina had spent her entire morning jittery walking everywhere in the palais mermonia.
Now across the room she is digging in between the blue roses hiding any less than stellar bloom under one of its prettier sisters.
Changing the tea set on the table in the middle of the room, cerulean blue, cobalt blue and sky blue swapping places faster than Neuvillette can pay any mind to.
She sighs, looking defeated at the sets and almost begging them to tell her which one is supposed to be best yet for one second the teapots looked like mocking faces. Throwing herself on a loveseat the room starts to feel smaller and she isn't even totally sure what tea to serve.
“Breath” neuvillette says from the desk, ever since he took over the leading role in Fontaine he spent more time between pages of legal documents, if that is even possible “they are arriving for a simple chat to check on the general management of the region”
“How do you even expect me to be calm when they themselves asked for my attendance for this meeting!” she sits up wobbly, the soft swirling getting worse “I can't even remember what cake you told me they liked… this is going to be a mess”
“Their grace has quite the sweet tooth, as long as what you planned doesn't have coffee it's going to be alright”
“Why no coffee?”
“miss furina… they gave birth a few days ago, it’s disadvised to breastfeed and have caffeinated drinks” seeing her nod and her little ahoge bobbing along he feels the need to confirm “that not only includes coffee and variations but also most teas” and with that she jumps to her feet, quickly excusing herself to make some changes.
“That child…” he sighs as he reviews the documents he wanted to show you and a rough overview, his head resting against his hand and a finger between his teeth. Feeling the door whining softly he laughs from the bottom of his throat “back soon early?”
And as his heart skipped a beat as you spoke “Oh, my, I know I am 30 minutes early but I thought you would like to meet me particularly” you walk deeper inside the room, past the meticulously fixed flowers that you wouldn't have noticed the mistakes on and past the three teapots on the table, each a slightly different shade of blue. Now standing besides neuvillette and facing the documents he just noticed the bundle of white cloth you held onto.
“Did the crops get better with the method I recommended? It left me worried when I left”
“The production got better, if you want to check the report is here” he offers the three papers stuck together by a metal clip when he notices that doing it with a single hand might be hard “if I might help you” he positions his arms to grab the baby and you let her between his arms
“Let's hope she stays asleep, she is such a colicky baby” you whisper but as soon as you finish the sentence she opens her eyes and starts wailing “my goodness…” you sigh deeply.
“Let me take care of it, just focus on that” he stands up and tries to mimic what he saw parents do with their small children whenever something upsetting might come up during the trials and small children would cry.
He grabs her neck and head with one hand and her legs with another, cradling her like you. As he was swaying softly the blanket covering her hair slid down to show pointy ears and softly cartilage mixing on her thin white hair.
“Is she…” but is soon shushed by you, pointing at the door and then to your ears, the message very clear ‘someone might be listening’ but he keeps his eyes glued to you only to catch you mouthing a soundless yes. His hands cradle her head onto his neck, soft blue cartilage sneaking past his fingers.
Now soothed, you two find comfort on the soft sound of passing the pages and Cordelia's breathing, the baby's name he would later find out.
“NEUVI I managed to get a cheesecake and fontas did i save this?!” Furina pushes past the door, holding a full size strawberry cheesecake and hugging three fontas against her chest but seeing you head on thinking you weren't on Fontaine yet “HIYY”
The screech caused Cornelia to get startled and start wailing “Miss Furina.” neuvillette says sternly, almost like a father telling off his daughter. But the only thing it caused was for her to see him hugging a baby suspiciously similar to him which didn't take her long to join the dots.
“OOAH!”
“Furina please stop scaring my daughter!”
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raphael-angele · 2 days
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Big Three Kids Moment
Only the Greek Big Three Kids
Nico, crying, running towards Thalia: THALIAAAA!
Thalia: Nico, what's wrong?!
Percy, running towards them: Nico!
Nico: *hides behind Thalia*
Percy: Nico, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it!
Nico: YES, YOU DID!
Thalia: What in Hades happened?!?!? *whispers to Percy* Start explaining, Seaweed Brain. I'm dead to Bianca if I can't explain this to her.
Percy: We got into a fight. I said something in the heat of the moment. I didn't mean it! Nico, I'm sorry!
Nico: *cries*
Thalia: Nico, *kneels down to him* What did Percy say?
Nico: He said I was acting like a straight white man.
Thalia: GASSSPS *hugs Nico tightly* Percy, how DARE you?!?!
Percy: I swear I didn't mean it. I just got caught up in the moment!
Nico: I'M NOT A STRAIGHT WHITE MAN! I'M A GAY ITALIAN BOI!
Thalia: Yes, you are. *to Percy* You know I have to tell Bianca.
Percy: Please don't.
Thalia: Percy, her troop comes back tonight. What am I gonna tell her if she sees him crying?
Percy: THALIA, I'M BEGGING YOU!
Thalia: I have to. But I'll do you a favor and soften the blow. I can't guarantee you what punishment she'll give you then.
Percy: I'll take what I can get.
Thalia: What did she do last time?
Percy: She made me eat a bowl of seaweed.
Thalia: Doesn't sound so bad
Percy: Raw.
Thalia: *shivers* What do you think she'll do this time?
Percy: There's no telling. We'll have to wait.
---
Bianca, carrying Nico: He WHAT?!?!?!
Thalia: Yeah...
Percy: ONLY FOR A LITTLE WHILE! I instantly apologized and made it up to him.
Bianca:
Percy: So...no big deal
Bianca: Percy, you made him cry to the point where he had to go to Thalia for comfort. If it wasn't a big deal, he wouldn't have run away from you and wouldn't have hid from you.
Percy: *ashamed*
Thalia: So, what are you gonna do?
Bianca: *sighs* I'll take your word for it and believe that you only said it in the heat of the moment. But you will not go unpunished
Thalia: Sooo...
Bianca: Nothing too severe. Since you hurt Nico with words, so should you be.
Percy: So you're gonna...insult me?
Bianca: Worse. I'm going to make you question your life.
Percy: Uh...
Bianca: *steps towards him* You know blueberries aren't really blue, right?
Percy: ( Ŏ艸Ŏ)
Thalia: (「 ⊙Д⊙)「
Percy: Say that's a lie.
Bianca: It's not.
Percy: Bianca. Say. That's. A. Lie!
Bianca, turning away and walking towards the Hades Cabin: Go ask Annabeth. She'll confirm it.
Percy: (⚆ᗝ⚆)
Thalia, pats his shoulder: Sorry, pal
Percy: ...ANNABETH! ᕕ(╯°□°)ᕗ
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heytherecentaurs · 1 day
Text
The Bad Parents would see Kristen in crisis, sort of in free fall, and all endeavour to help her. She's a kid who had to leave home because her parents are bigots. Then she moved in with her girlfriend's family (which thankfully is also her best friend's family). But do you ever think she was scared, even briefly, that she'd have nowhere to go when she and Tracker broke up? Like maybe in the back of her mind she wondered if the grace they'd shown her was because she was Tracker's girlfriend.
I think the bad parents would have rallied around her. Jawbone who knows how hard she's been grinding at school. Sandra Lynn who fully understands what it's like to be a young woman in crisis. (And who is used to dealing with Fig's special brand of bullshit; Kristen's problems might seem easier to tackle.) Wilma and Digby who are so kind and understanding but don't put up with bullshit and won't be pushovers. Even Sklonda who didn't want Riz's friends exploiting him, but you can't tell me she wouldn't hear from Riz that Kristen is Acing her cleric classes and crushing it on the campaign, and now you're telling Sklonda this girl who's really applying herself in shitty circumstances is being punished for it and on top of that it's going to effect her own kid's academics and future. Get the fuck outta here.
Kristen just needs one adult to march into that school with her and say "You're out of order." Like the school may be able to push around some kid and force her through hoops, but Sklonda or Sandra Lynn? No way. "You can't expel her. Kristen has perfect grades and is an active student in extracurriculars. What do you mean, 'She fails because her deity is dead'? Does Kristen still believe in her? Yes. Does Kristen still have her magic? Yes. How then can her goddess be dead? Last I checked Cassandra is a goddess of mystery. Just because you don't understand the mystery doesn't mean you have the right to punish Kristen for it. In fact combined with the cleric teacher's behaviour, this constitutes discrimination on religious grounds." Like... "Who's in charge here? You don't have someone qualified at the head of your administrative faculty? I'm going to have a class action suit brought against the school on behalf of the student body and you don't have Arthur Aguefort here to protect you."
Kristen needs an adult to reasonably address these issues on her behalf and failing that, an adult who will be mean.
Put me in a room with whoever you want from that school and I'll eat them alive. I'll make them cry. I don't care if Jace Stardiamond is evil or not. And I certainly don't care what big tent megachurch bullshit Bobby Fucking Dawn slithered out from. Fuck him and his Kentucky-fried drawl. I'll crush him.
(Side note: Kristen should have immediately begun whatever emancipation process Solace has because Mac and Donna should not be making legal and medical decisions on her behalf.)
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hidtired · 20 hours
Text
A Single Punch [Part 3]
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4
Description: The line up ended with people thinking you died. However, your recovering at Hilltop with severe injury's. How will people react to seeing you again?
2.6k words
Warnings (much angst, injury, near death, depression, recovery, typical walking dead shenanigans) [Happy ending, fluff <3]
(Daryl Dixon x Reader) Masterlist
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Your POV
"They took Daryl as their prisoner."
That sentence replay in your mind as you lay in bed that night. You had no idea what they were doing to him. Not even if he was breathing in the same moment you were. He doesn't even know you still are. You had to bite down on your tongue to prevent you from getting emotional. You were struggling to exist. Adding this mental pain onto the physical, you would never recover if something happened to him. You wouldn't have the strength to try and become better.
You would die of a broken heart.
The pain medication giving to you is what put you to sleep. Waking up foggy, still with a weird compression feeling in your neck. People had started their days already. You stared as people were getting ready for the morning. You proceeded to stretch trying to regain control of your body again. You heard Sasha and Rosita talking outside, "Then let me come with you, its stupid to go alone.'' You were confused, but what else is new. But, it sounded like they were going to do something they weren't supposed to.
Sasha had promised to help wash your hair in the sink yesterday. So when she came to keep that promise you questioned her. She was preparing the area you were going to use to wash your hair (Hopefully removing whatever blood that the last time didn't.) "Where are you going?" Sasha had turned to you towel in hand, "What are you talking about? I'm not going any where, we are washing your hair." She seemed to think you were confused but your expression remained blank, "With Rosita..." Sasha pursed her lips, "You heard us talking earlier." She stated it in realization. She sighed before helping you to lay your head in the sink.
Warm water was flowing down your scalp, a relief to you. Sasha began while running her fingers in your hair, carful of the stitches. "You can't tell anybody... I just can't- can't live with it. He need to pay for what he did." You sat there and listened, she wanted revenge, closer. You released a long breath, "I don't like it. Think- of the conseq-quences. Act on here-" You pointed to your brain, "not here..." your hand rested above your heart. "I know this one is much louder." You looked up at her with sad eyes. She simply looked away for a second. You continued, "No one else, we are losing no one else." Then is when she looked down at you, "Lets get your hair dry and get a new bandage on." You only sighed but complied.
She was probably hoping you world forget what you had heard. Just because you didn’t talk most of the time didn’t mean you weren’t getting better. You felt like you were at the point of having clear cognitive abilities. Your struggle was in having your brain controlling your body. You would tell your foot to move and it would, it just wouldn’t get to where you thought it told you it was. Maggie walked in frustrated about something but you had to tell her to talk to Sasha and Rosita.
“Maggs?”
You had startled her out of her thoughts, “You need something Y/N?” She approached you while looking you over for something wrong. You could only hold your head down ashamed, Sasha said not to say anything but you couldn’t let it go. “Could you check on-n Sasha? She and Rosita, planning something…” Maggie stood there confused before realizing what they could be planning. So without a word she ran out the door to look for them.
She returned later explaining Enid told her they had already left. Jesus was going after them though. Now you could only hope they were going to be ok.
You had asked Enid to help you outside to a bench. You wanted to be near if they came back. Also maybe because the trailer was driving you mad. You could tell it was getting late with the temperature slowly dropping. The book you were reading had lost your interest. You stared out watching everyone go about there days. You hadn’t thought much about Negan. The thirst for his blood that many seemed to have. You’re sure if you sat and lingered on it you would. For now it was still a thought of terror. You would dream about the feeling of the bat. Only on nights the meds started to fade and your headache only fueled the sensation.
Then Daryl would swirl around in your head. He was shot the last you saw him. Even worse he could only think you were dead like everyone else thought. Knowing him he was having guilt eating him alive. About you and Glenn. You’ve seen how he gets with grief. You could only hope he didn’t do something stupid.
The sunset reminded you they weren’t coming back today. You attempted to get up before older lady was at your side helping you. It was frustrating being so dependent. The was no use pushing the help away because you did need it. You sulked while laying down in bed. You didn’t talk for the rest of that night going to bed early.
You woke up before anyone. You slowly moved to get out of bed. Taken small slow steps leaning on anything near you. You had managed to get out slowly closing the door. You didn’t trust going down the steps so you sat down going down that way. Making your way back to that bench all by yourself took a good half hour. The cold air was slightly warming with the sun peaking over the hills. The cold was welcome, you preferred it better then the constant burning in your aching body.
Enid was the one to wake up seeing you gone and alerting Maggie. She had found you at the bench. She feared you had fallen somewhere. She sat opposite of you, “You should had woken one of us.” Looking at her seeing the expression of someone tired and lost. “I got here, eventually.” She only looked at you displeasingly. You smiled at her before choking out,
“I’m sorry-y my current existence was at the expense of Glenn’s.”
She looked shocked, “That’s not how it-“ you were waving your hand slowly waving her off, “It’s true, I’m just telling you I won’t let it go to waste. He was one of the good things left in the world and I’ll do right by him.” It was the first semi clear thing you’ve said your entire recovery. Despite it being slower and more forced out, it was firm and decisive. Maggie stared at you with tears in her eyes, placing her hand on yours and squeezing it. She nodded, “Thank you.” The rumbling in the distance broke the moment. Maggie stood and listening closely, “It could be the Saviors again.” She ran to get up onto the watch platform.
As the sound got closer it achingly sounded like Daryl’s bike. Maggie was yelling to open the gates. You stood and slowly made your way around a corner again leaning on anything to help you. The gates were wide open as a bike and two figures on them got off. It was Daryl… he was here. He is right there! Your slow steps soon turned faster and more wobbly. You started to cry. He was getting hugged by Maggie oblivious to your presence. You ran out of things to keep your balance but continued on sloppily. Your cry’s turn louder as you yell,
“DARYL!”
Your sobbing now- struggling to catch a breath even. You couldn’t get there fast enough. Daryl quickly turned at the voice. Your brain moving too fast for your body, caused you to fall to your hand and knees. But you still try and crawl.
Daryl POV
Earlier
Daryl was making his attempt to escape again. With the key that was slipped under the door, he was headed to his bike after finding some cloths and Ricks gun in Dwight’s room. The place was empty, until a larger man rounded the corner with food in his hand. Fat Joey he had heard them call him. He startled when they made eye contact. He lifted his hands in a surrender, “L-look man I didn’t see anything, you could just go I won’t say anything.” But Daryl angrily approached the him. “No! No wait!” Daryl had beaten him into the floor. Something caught his attention from the corner of his eye. Another person, he stopped looking over to the presence.
He straightens in surprise, “Jesus?”
Jesus was as surprised to see him to. Daryl looked rough, and if the way he just watched him beat that man to death, wasn’t doing the best emotionally. He seemed on edge, and most notably animalistic. Daryl waved him over to the bike, “We gotta go.” Daryl was fiddling to start the bike as Jesus approached him. He seemed sporadic, maybe that’s why he didn’t mention anything about you. The man was already at level ten no need to push him further.
The ride to Hilltop took them until morning light to break. The gate opened and Daryl seeing Maggie made him feel like a hole had appeared under him and the only voice that could have possibly pulled him out of it rung out through the air.
“DARYL!”
Now
He had turned to see if he imagined it. He saw you struggling to make your way over. He first thought that like how Rick hallucinated Lori, he was doing with you. But regardless he ran the rest of the way you couldn’t as you fell. He was breathing hard and tears were streaming down his bruised face. He reached down to pull you to your feet. He caught a glimpse of your face seeing a bandage rapped around your head. He was in disbelief as he held you. You had crumpled into him. Your casted arm going around him as your other found his hair pushing him closer to you. Daryl’s voice held a tremble, “How is this possible.”
You choked down a gasp of air before talking, “You punched him…” You pulled back to look at his face. Hand removing from his hair to caress his cheek.
“I didn’t intend to play dead but did. I passed out- and- and then heard- took y-you.” Your speech was turning more slurred harder you tried to talk. It was obvious you were struggling to keep up with yourself. Daryl could only stare. Overwhelmed by the feelings flooding through him. After feeling like he had his entire being ripped from his body, only for it to appear back to him. ‘His punch?’ He couldn’t care to think of why you were in front of him just that you were. He wasn’t a religious man by any means but he was thankful to whatever had made you fallen back into his arms.
You were crying at a small whimper now when Maggie approached putting a hand to your back. “Shhh, you have to calm down Y/N, let’s get you laid down.” Daryl was dazed, still struggling to comprehend if this was real. Maybe a dream? Was he still in his cell? He had a good look at you now. Your face all kinds of colors. Your skin pale with bags under your red eyes. You moved almost like a toddler. Just like how Judith would try to sass him and walk leading her tripping at the inability to multitask. You were in obvious pain. You had yet to pull away from him. He looked to Maggie with a panicked and questioning look, “Is she okay, how hurt is she?” He moved to sweep you by the legs to pick you up bridal style. He didn’t even care for the pain in his shoulder from the gun shot.
Maggie started to lead them to the trailer, “She has been getting better. She was much worse at the start. I’ll explain everything.” In the trailer he set you down on a bed. You had one hand still on his arm. He sat down on the side taking your hand into his turning to Maggie for an explanation. Catching the hint she continued,
“We didn’t even notice she was still alive until Sasha and I were on are way to Hilltop.”
Daryl interrupted- “Why were you going here? Rick said you had died from whatever sickness you had, but saw Gabe did a fake grave for you.” She inhaled before placing a hand to her stomach, “I thought I was losing the baby…” Color drained from his face, Maggie spoke reassuringly, “They baby is fine! The doctor who looked at me also helped her.” They both turn to you. You were fiddling with his hand in yours, seemingly mesmerizing by it. She sighed, “He said she was recovering better than he thought she would. She wasn’t herself the first few days but, she seemed to have taken most of the force to her hand.” Daryl's eyebrows furrowed and he eyed the cast on your hand.
You turn your attention to Daryl, “I’m ok… I swear.” He saw what had happened to you. The sound of that damn bat and the blood pouring out from your motionless body. Maggie movement caught his attention, “I let you two be, you’ll find me around.” She walked out the door before he could reply. You sighed at her abrupt exit and the face he was making. The face of a man consumed of guilt, “Later, you-u should talk through it with her. Your face is saying it all.”
Oh to be called on his B.S. again. To have you reading him like you had the manual to him. He probably still had the thought written on his face, ‘Your really here.' The pressure you pressed in your combined hands made him return it.
“Daryl, what did they do to you.”
A simple question really but his mind spun at the remembrance. He was covered in grime, and he is sure you noticed him being a little twitchy. The cuts and bruises to add told you a story. “Nothing worse than thinking you were dead.” He said it truthfully. You gave that god awful look that would make is heart pound. “Ar-are you ok?” Your eyes were becoming glassy. He only smiled and began to nod, “I will be now.” You slowly smiled back to him.
He went to clean up at your request, had taken a shower and cleaned some of the cuts on his face, along with his still healing bullet wound. He returned back to you and ate. He was quiet to observe you. Taken his own notes on your condition.
You were face down on top of his chest after he ate. Both soaking in each other. Daryl broke the silence, “Be my wife…” You didn’t even hesitate, raising your head to look at him and replying, “Where’s my ring at then…?” He huffed out some air having a dumb smile on his face, “In are room…” That had gotten your attention, “How long has it been there?” Marriage for Daryl wasn’t a concept he thought would be a part of his life with how he was raised. “Found it back on a run for the prison. Never found a moment with how everything went down.” Your hand reached to whip a tear from your eye before flopping back down on him,
“I’ll be your wife.”
A ruckus outside caused Daryl to investigate, removing himself from you felt like a sin. "I'll go check it out, stay here." He only looked back for a moment before heading out the door. He slowly stalked to see the gate open. Jesus appeared by him, "I was just about to get you." Daryl looked at him questioningly. He continued his approach to the gate. Daryl rounded the corner to see Rick, Carl, Michonne, Tara, and Rosita. Rick pulling away from Maggie, and all eyes falling to him.
The group he considered his family was here.
Part 4
Feedback welcomed and requests open!
Also sorry again for grammar or spelling that is messed up! Dyslexia kicks my ass on the daily.
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writingforstraykids · 4 hours
Text
I owe you a kiss - Pt.8
Pairing: Minchan x femReader (mention of Changlix)
Word Count: 3478
Summary: Three weeks later, you're still feeling left out. Your therapist suggests communicating your worries to your husbands, but this doesn't go as planned.
Warnings/Tags: fluff, angst, therapy, verbal fight, anxious!chan, min gets defensive
A/N: After part seven I thought I'd be done with one part more tops...well. Once more, there'll be another chapter after this. Ideas/wishes are always welcome, I'll see what I can include🤭🖤
PART SEVEN | PART NINE (in progress)
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Three weeks later 
“And you still don't want your husbands there for the appointments?” your therapist asks kindly. She has been for weeks now. 
“No,” you shake your head firmly. 
“May I ask why?” she asks patiently. 
“Minho has a lot to deal with on his own because he remembers…also, he hates hospitals,” you start and nervously fidget with your hands. “Chan is…different.”
“Different, how?” she responds with another question. 
“Distant is the wrong expression by now. He's trying to show me how much he loves me, but I can tell when he gets overwhelmed. He's still figuring things out, finding his place back home,” you tell, and she nods along, taking some notes. “I just…It's not all bad. He gets enough sleep now, makes sure to eat enough, and takes care of himself. It's just so different from what I remember.”
“And Minho? Is he getting the help he needs?” she asks. 
“Yes, he sees his therapist every two weeks. Weekly, if it's really bad, she always manages to squeeze him in,” you tell her. “He tries to hide it, but he still has nightmares. He's able to drive again if he has to, but he gets anxious easily.”
“And where does that leave you?” she asks patiently, nodding at the wooden board between the two of you. There's a figure for Chan and another for Minho, standing close next to each other. Behind them are several smaller figures in darker colors, symbolizing their fears and struggles. And there's you. Yours is smaller than theirs, standing further away as if you're facing them. 
“Alone,” you say, swallowing hard as you notice the distance between the figures. You hadn't thought much about it putting them there but they're painting a clear picture. 
“Are you?” she asks gently. 
“Sometimes,” you nod. “I don't feel like it when I'm alone with one of them. But if it's all three of us…I feel like they don't need me,” you say and subconsciously fondle the tiny head of the figure behind you, symbolizing your negative thoughts. 
“Do you want to change something?” she asks, picking up on it, and you set it between yours and the ones of your husbands. “Add anything?”
“I'm scared of losing them,” you say, and she nods at you, letting you choose another one. You put it next to the one you just moved. 
“May I comment on something?” she asks, and you nod. “You put your husband's fears and struggles behind them. But yours are in front of you, forming a wall between you all. Why's that?”
“Uh…because they've communicated theirs openly with me and are working on them. I didn't tell them I'm scared to lose them or all of the other thoughts running through my head,” you admit. 
“Mhm, so theirs are out in the open…why aren't yours?” she asks patiently, and you drop back into the comfortable chair. 
“I don't know,” you confess. “Maybe because I feel like I can't put more on their shoulders.”
“What happened when Chan told you he's scared to push your boundaries? What happened when Minho panicked?” she asks, flashing you a kind smile. 
“I comforted them, told them it's okay,” you say quietly. 
“And what makes you fear they wouldn't do the same with you?” she asks, making you lower your head a little embarrassed. 
“I don't know,” you admit quietly, feeling tears burn in your eyes. “I should tell them, right?”
She hums gently. “Communication seems to be very important to keep your relationship intact as you're all dealing with certain things.”
-
You're exhausted after your session, but you know you'd have to open up more about your own fears. You follow her outside into the waiting area to pay and frown as you see Chan talking to the receptionist. “Channie?” you ask, confused, and he looks up with a soft smile. 
“Hey, baby girl,” he says sweetly. “I thought I'd come pick you up, I finished early today.”
“Oh,” you nod and open your handbag to get your wallet. Chan introduces himself to your therapist, a warm smile brightening up his gorgeous face. You take out your card, and Chan gently shoves it back inside. 
“Already handled,” he tells you. 
“What? Channie, I had to pay for the whole month today,” you protest. 
“I know,” he nods and gently zips your handbag closed. “It's fine.”
“Thank you,” you nod gently, smiling as his hand finds yours. 
“You got everything?” he asks, and after you nod, you two say goodbye. Once you're in the elevator, Chan pulls you into a strong hug and kisses your hair. “You look like you've been crying. Rough one?” he asks caringly. 
“Yeah,” you nod, burying yourself in his warmth. “Thank you for picking me up, Channie angel.”
“Of course,” he tells you, rubbing your back. 
As you lean into Chan's embrace, you're reminded of the session's revelations. His warmth is reassuring, and it pushes against the shadows of your own unspoken fears. You wonder how to begin sharing them with him, how to bridge the gap that your silence had unknowingly broadened. "I have a lot on my mind," you finally say, your voice muffled against his coat.
Chan's response is soft, filled with his sweet patience. "I'm here whenever you're ready to talk," he assures you, his hand steady on your back. The simplicity of his promise makes something within you ease slightly. Perhaps sharing your inner conflicts wouldn't be as horrible as you feared.
“Thank you,” you nod gently. 
Chan leads you outside the building and to his car, your hand still in his. “I wanted to take you out for coffee, but would you rather go home? Whatever you say is fine, beautiful,” he assures you, and tears brim your eyes. 
“Our favorite spot?” you ask gently. 
Chan smiles sweetly, dimples showing. “Yeah,” he nods, giggling as your face lightens up. 
“I would love to,” you tell him. 
-
When you're back home, the atmosphere shifts as Minho greets you both from the sofa. His smile is shy, a reflection of his ongoing struggles, yet sincere. His eyes light up when he sees you. "Everything okay?" he asks, a subtle concern in his tone.
You nod, squeezing Chan's hand before letting go. "We need to talk, all of us," you say, surprising even yourself with the firmness in your voice. Minho's brow furrows slightly, but he nods, understanding the seriousness of your tone. He gestures towards the empty space next to him. 
As you all sit down, the weight of the moment hangs heavily in the air. You take a deep breath, gathering the courage to be as open as possible. "I've been feeling a bit overwhelmed," you begin, your voice stronger than you feel. "Not by you two specifically, but by everything. The fears I've kept to myself are... they're getting heavy."
Chan reaches for your hand again, his touch a silent promise. Minho leans in, ready to listen, to help shoulder the burden you've carried alone for too long. You share your fears—of losing them, of not being enough, of the future that seems so uncertain sometimes. With each confession, the walls you built crumble.
“You know you can always come to us when those thoughts get too much to handle, yeah?” Chan asks gently. 
“You're always there for us, honey, don't forget we're there for you too,” Minho adds agreeingly, gently rubbing your thigh. 
“I know…A lot of it is in my head, but I miss you two,” you admit. “I can't even explain it, but I miss you so much, and I just wish everything would be normal again,” you say, tears brimming your eyes. 
“Y/nnie,” Minho whispers and shakes his head, tears brimming his own eyes. “We have to work with what we got. A lot has happened, and we can't pretend it didn't. We have to find our new normal,” he tells you and timidly takes your hand.
“But we're always here, yeah? You're still our beautiful wife,” Chan chimes in. 
“Well, then start acting like it!” you suddenly burst out, and seeing the hurt and confusion lacing their features you quickly get up. “Start acting like I'm your wife and not just your crush you hold hands with from time to time.” 
“Seriously?” Minho asks dangerously low and Chan swallows, already fearing an outburst of both of you. “Tell me you're joking.”
“I'm not,” you snap at him. “Obviously, I'm not.”
“What the fuck do you need me to do then? What do I have to change, huh?” he snaps right back at you, getting up as well. 
“Guys, please,” Chan tries gently, but you both ignore him. 
“I don't know! But it feels like shit, I'm just some bystander to you two being all lovey-dovey all day!” you burst out. 
“You’re pushing us away, you know that?” Minho retorts, his voice dripping with frustration and hurt. “You say you feel left out, but you've got walls so high, I need a damn ladder to get over them! Every time I try to initiate anything more than the crush behavior, as you put it, you back away.”
“I-” you start, but you can’t form any clear sentence in response. Minho is right, you’ve been denying him to go any further repeatedly.
Chan’s face grows pale, his eyes wide as he watches the confrontation unfold, seemingly frozen in place. “Can we... please not do this?” he stammers, his voice cracking under the strain. “This isn’t helping any of us.”
“You stay out of this!” Minho snaps, turning his glare briefly to Chan. The sharpness in Minho’s tone slices through the tension like a knife, leaving Chan blinking back tears, his hands shaking slightly as he tries to compose himself. “You don’t have to participate in this fight, but let me say my piece.”
“I’m trying to help!” Chan protests weakly, his voice trembling at the thought of you getting into a serious fight. Minho and you almost never fought, but if you did, it was always ugly, hurtful, and fucking loud. He didn’t like it before, but he could barely take it now, getting overwhelmed.  “I don’t want to see us fall apart over misunderstandings and hurt feelings!”
“Well, it’s not just about feelings, Chan!” you shout, your voice breaking as the tears start to fall. “It’s about being seen and heard in this relationship. I feel invisible most days, like I’m just here to fill a space between the two of you! It’s like you don’t care about me.”
Minho blinks at you, and you can tell he needs a moment to process your words. Then he explodes. “If you really feel this way, if everything I do is that useless and meaningless…then I don't know what the fuck I'm still doing here!”
“Minho,” you whisper in shock, and Chan's tears fall freely now. 
“Minho, please don’t say that,” Chan shakes his head, looking at him anxiously. 
“No, seriously, fuck this. Fuck you,” he says harshly, and you know he's trying to cover his hurt with anger. “I don’t care about you, yeah sure,” he goes on. “I stayed by your bedside for weeks, praying that you’d wake up. I have done nothing but respect your boundaries, give you the time you need, and make sure you’re comfortable. What the fuck do you need me to do to think I actually give a fuck about you?!” he shouts at the top of his lungs, and it has both you and Chan flinching heavily. It’s rare he loses composure like this. He’s breathing heavily once he’s done, staring at you with fierce but such vulnerable eyes it makes you sick. He nods to himself as you don’t answer and grabs his phone from the sofa. “You don’t even know what you need. How the fuck am I supposed to, huh?”
“Min, please,” Chan whispers, sensing how hurt his husband truly is behind his mask of anger. 
Minho’s expression softens for a moment, his anger faltering as he sees the tears streaming down his face. “I need a break,” he announces. “I’ll sleep in the guest room; I can’t do this right now.” He shakes his head and meets your eyes for a brief second. “Thanks for the talk,” he says sarcastically as you don’t respond to his prior statements.
You stand still for a second as he leaves before collecting your things as well. 
“Y/nnie,” Chan tries weakly.
“Don’t,” you say sharply, shaking your head. 
Chan flinches as the door to your bedroom slams closed and slumps onto the sofa, biting back a sob. He blindly reaches for his phone and blinks away tears to find his best friend’s number. Felix picks up after the second ring. “Lix, I-I know it’s late-,” he starts weakly.
“Where are you?” he asks worriedly at the distressed sound of his voice. “Do you need me to get you?” he asks, already getting up to search for his keys. His husband shoots him a questioning look, and Felix mouths Chan’s name. Changbin frowns worriedly, getting up as well and grabbing his keys. 
“Can I stay at yours? Just for tonight?” he sniffles helplessly. 
“Of course, Channie,” Felix says soothingly, slipping into his shoes. “You’re at home?” he asks carefully, leaving the house with Changbin right behind him. 
“Yeah…home,” he says, choking on the word. 
“We’ll be there in ten minutes, okay?” he asks gently, waiting for Chan’s quiet hum in response. “Deep breaths, Channie hyung, I’m sure whatever this is it can be fixed.”
“I’m not sure,” he answers shakily. “I’m really not.”
“They got into a fight?” he asks carefully, knowing how much it upset Chan. 
“Yeah,” he whispers. “It was bad, Lix, really, really bad.”
“I’m sorry, Channie,” he says softly. Only a little later Chan meets them in front of the house and they pull him into a tight hug. 
Changbin soothingly rubs his back. “Come on, Channie hyung, let's go,” he gently urges him to the car, handing him a tissue. “You can stay as long as you need to, okay?”
Chan nods and gets into the car, sinking into Felix's arms as the younger one sits down next to him. Felix gently rubs his shoulder and sighs. “It's gonna be okay, Channie.”
Three days later
Waking up, you notice Chan's side of the bed is still made, untouched from the night before. Minho is already downstairs, the clatter of dishes breaking the uncomfortable silence that had settled over the house. As you walk into the kitchen, Minho’s posture stiffens, his usually warm eyes clouded with frustration.
“Good morning,” you say hesitantly, your voice barely a whisper, hoping to ease into the morning peacefully.
Minho nods without meeting your eyes, continuing his task. “Morning,” he replies shortly. 
“I was thinking we could all go out today, maybe get some fresh air together,” you suggest, trying to find a way to get you three to deal with what happened.
Minho pauses, placing a plate down a little too hard. “Chan isn’t feeling well,” he says shortly, finally looking up at you with a mix of irritation and exhaustion in his expression.
“Is it his headache again?”
“Probably,” Minho mutters, turning back to the dishes. “Or maybe it’s just an excuse.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” you ask, your voice rising slightly in concern.
Minho sighs, a long, tired exhale. “It means maybe he’s just avoiding us. Avoiding this,” he gestures vaguely between the two of you.
“Minho, that’s not fair. You know how much he’s been struggling with everything,” you counter, feeling your heart rate pick up as the beginnings of anger mix with your worry.
“And what about us?” Minho snaps, his composure breaking. “When do we get to talk about how this is affecting us? You’re so focused on Chan. What about me? What about what I need?”
The accusation hits hard, opening a floodgate of emotions you’d both been tiptoeing around. “I’m trying to be here for both of you and fix this!” you exclaim, frustration overtaking your initial intent to keep the peace.
“Well, maybe try a little harder because I don’t feel it!” Minho’s voice escalates, his tone harsher than you’ve ever heard.
“Guys? What’s going on?” Chan’s weak voice comes from the doorway. His usual bright eyes are dim and shadowed with pain.
You both turn, startled, as Chan leans against the frame, looking between you two with a growing sense of dread. “I just needed some air, that’s all,” he murmurs, clearly caught off-guard by the newly thickened tension.
Minho’s expression softens slightly at the sight of Chan, but his frustration is far from appeased. “We’re just talking,” he says, though his voice suggests it was anything but a simple conversation.
Chan glances at you, his eyes searching for an ally. “It doesn’t sound like talking,” he comments softly, his tone hurt.
“You wouldn’t know; you’ve been avoiding us!” Minho’s outburst swiftly redirects the tension back to Chan.
“That’s not fair, Min,” Chan protests, his voice weak but filled with hurt. “I’m just trying not to make things worse.”
“By not talking? By hiding away?” Minho counters, his voice laced with bitterness.
“Enough!” you finally shout, unable to bear it anymore. “This isn’t helping anyone. We’re supposed to be in this together.” Both fall silent, the echo of your shout hanging between you. The air is thick with unsaid things, each of you caught in your own thoughts. “We need to fix this,” you say finally. “We can’t go on like this.”
Chan nods, looking exhausted. “I know,” he agrees quietly.
Minho doesn’t speak; his jaw clenches as he wrestles with his emotions, but his nod is agreement enough. You all sit down at the dinner table, facing each other.
Chan’s voice is gentle as he suggests, “Let’s each say something we feel without interruptions. Just listen to each other. Really listen.”
You nod, taking a deep breath. “I feel overlooked,” you begin, the words raw but necessary.
“I feel helpless,” Minho adds, his voice thick.
“I’m afraid of losing you both,” Chan admits, his eyes glossy with unshed tears.
The room grows silent as each confession hangs in the air. You all look at each other, the vulnerability shared creating a bridge that had been missing in the chaos of your misunderstandings.
Chan reaches across the table, his fingers brushing against yours. "I'm sorry," he says, his voice steady despite the emotion. "I’ve been so wrapped up in my own shit that I didn’t see how isolated you felt."
Minho exhales deeply, the tension easing from his shoulders as he acknowledges Chan's words. "And I... I've been so focused on not falling apart myself that I forgot to make sure we're all okay," he admits, his gaze shifting between you and Chan, a silent plea for forgiveness in his eyes.
It's your turn to respond, the atmosphere allowing for more open and heartfelt communication. "I've been afraid of burdening you both with my fears," you say, the admission freeing in its own way. "But I see now that keeping them to myself only creates more distance. I need to share more, not less," you continue, feeling a bit lighter with each word. "I need us to really be in this together."
Minho's hand finds yours, squeezing gently. "I've been scared," he admits, his voice cracking slightly. "Scared that pushing too hard or not enough could end up driving you away. But I see now that not communicating is just as damaging."
Chan, still visibly shaken but slowly regaining his composure, adds, "I thought I was protecting you both from my issues, but I was just isolating myself further. I promise to be more present, even when it's hard."
The conversation turns into a lengthy discussion in which each of you takes turns expressing thoughts and emotions that had been buried under daily routines and misunderstandings. It’s not just about voicing grievances; it’s about rediscovering each other's needs and reassessing how to support each other better.
Chan proposes a weekly check-in, a safe space where anything can be discussed without judgment, ensuring that no concern is too small or too trivial to be voiced. Minho suggests more one-on-one time with each of you to strengthen individual bonds that contribute to the health of the collective relationship.
In the following weeks, the impact of that conversation becomes evident. Slowly, the dynamics in your household start to shift. There's a newfound gentleness in your interactions, a deeper consideration for each other's mental spaces, and an active effort to engage without overwhelming one another.
Feeling less isolated, you find the courage to share your smaller daily fears and joys, discovering that these moments of sharing contribute significantly to your feeling of closeness with your husbands. 
In a relationship as complex and intertwined as yours, challenges are inevitable.
PART SEVEN | PART NINE (in progress)
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alisonwritesimagines · 19 hours
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I'm Wonderstruck, Blushing All the Way Home ~LA!Shanks x Reader~
Summary: You and Shanks grow close when you're not watching Luffy.
Author’s Note: My coworker is almost caught up with the anime One Piece which I think is crazy and impressive.
Part of the Enchanted Series
Reader’s Pronouns: She/Her
Warnings: candy store -tooth rotting fluff
Side Note: This is a secondary blog. If you comment a question down below, I will not answer since this is not the main blog. Please send the question to my inbox if you want a response back!
Do not repost this anywhere!
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You sat on Shanks's desk as he sat on his chair in front of you. After exploring his ship, the two of you made it over to his quarters where you two got to know each other more.
"So how did you get that scar?" You asked him as you lightly touched the scars that ran below his eye.
"One of Whitebeard's crewmate's did this to me," Shanks told you.
"Makes you look tough," you tell him.
"You think so? Not handsome?"
"Well that too," you say.
“Do you have any scars?” Shanks asked you.
“Just small ones from my clumsiness. Nothing interesting like yours,” you tell him.
“So what do you think of my ship?” Shanks asked as he leaned back against his chair.
“I like it.”
“Maybe when Luffy’s old enough, you can join me in sailing around the world? Look for the one piece?” Shanks asked you.
“I don’t like the sea,” you tell him as you shook your head.
“Why not?”
“I’m afraid of what lies beneath the waters. It’s just a little too scary for me,” you tell him.
“And what if I tell you that a pirate like myself will never let you get hurt?”
“You can make the promise but can you keep it?” You asked.
“I’m a man of my word,” Shanks smiled at you.
“I’ll think about it.”
You looked out the window to see that it was already dark.
"I should probably get back home," you tell him as you got off his desk.
"You could stay the night if you like," Shanks offered.
"I think you're moving a little too soon," you tease.
"You can take my bed and if it makes you feel better, I can sleep somewhere else," Shanks insisted.
"Slept in worse places?" You asked him.
"You have no idea."
"Well, a strong and brave pirate like you can walk me home right?" You asked him.
"I certainly can," Shanks said.
The moment you stepped out of his room, the cold air hit you unexpectedly. You shivered a little but felt warmth again when Shanks put his cape around you. You smiled up at him as you both began to walk back to your home.
"You're not what I expected," you tell him.
"Is that a good thing?"
"Yes. The pirates I've met have been horrible," you explain.
"I'm glad I'm able to prove to you that not all pirates are bad."
"Me too. Will you be coming back to our village after your next journey?" You asked him.
"For you? Yes. I don't want anyone else taking a treasure like yourself away from me," Shanks says. You felt your face heat up from his words. You hid your face with his cape so he wouldn't see your wide smile.
"Well, this is me. Will I see you tomorrow?" You asked Shanks as you approached your home.
"Can't go without a goodbye," Shanks tells you. You began to take off his cape but Shanks stopped you.
"Keep it for tonight. Give us another reason to see each other tomorrow," Shanks tells you.
"Thank you."
"Goodnight, Y/n."
"Goodnight Shanks," you say before kissing his cheek. You quickly opened your door before hiding inside.
You could hide your smile from behind the door as you could feel yourself fall for Shanks a little more.
Today was your last day off before you had to watch Luffy again. You headed to Shanks's ship where you found his crew getting ready to set sail again.
"Shanks is in his quarters if you're looking for him," one of his crew members tells you with a wink.
"Thank you," you smile before heading over.
You knocked on Shanks's door before opening it.
"Hi," you say once you saw him.
"Hi," Shanks smiled as he walked over to you.
"Came to bring your cape back and brought you some food for the trip," you tell him as you placed a box of food on his desk. You took off his cape and handed it back to him.
"Thank you. We appreciate it," Shanks tells you.
"I guess I'll see you when you come back?" You asked him.
"We'll be back soon."
"Be safe," you tell him.
"You know, you should keep the cape warm for me," Shanks tells you as he put the cape back onto you.
"You're gonna come back for it right?" You asked.
"That. And you," Shanks said.
"I shouldn't keep you waiting. I need to go get some stuff ready before Luffy comes back tomorrow," you tell him before beginning to leave.
"Wait."
You felt Shanks grab your hand before pulling you back over to him. He cupped your cheeks before kissing you on the lips. You kissed him back until you had to pull away for air.
"I'll be waiting for you," you tell him.
"And I'll come back for you," Shanks tells you. You smile up at him before giving him one more kiss.
"Come back to me soon."
"And when I do, why don't we go on a proper date?" Shanks asked.
"I'll hold you to that," you tell him. Shanks gave you one more kiss before walking you out.
"Tell Luffy I'll see him when I come back. I know he'll love to hear my stories when I come back," Shanks tells you.
"I will. Stay safe," you tell him.
"For you," Shanks said before kissing you once more.
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venriliz · 2 days
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📩 Simblr question of the day: Who's your biggest inspiration/s on Simblr? Mention them! Tell us why you like them!
okay this is going to be a veeery long post. i could probably name almost every single simblr i follow, but that would be impossible, so if you noticed me liking/reblogging your posts but not mentioning you - please don't think that you're not inspiring to me, because you are! <3
tbh i love the simblr community to bits and a LOT of people inspire me every day. :] i'll name some under the cut!
@aniraklova - she has such a unique sim style and has been nothing but a gift to the community by organizing events like edgewave last year or by being a badass person in general! love her! <3
@microscotch just one if not the coolest simblr imo :P keeps the love for sims 2 alive and doing some kickass renders in the process. simblr wouldn't be as much fun as it is without my Helenchen! <333
@vdshakh hands down the best simblr when it comes to renders. i can only dream of mine being that good. probably got me into doing some myself in the first place. i would reblog their renders every day...and maybe i should! <333
@puppycheesecake when it comes to cas related posts, i could stare at them all day and never get bored. the variety is insane! :] probably fundamentally inspired me to up my own cas game, so ty! <3
@strangetowntales you can probably tell that everything related to aliens/strangetown, basically that theme as a whole is already a plus in my book and i love their moodboards so fucking much!!
@beetlemp3 just their whole blog/aesthetic gives me tooth aches because it's so cute! when i need to treat my eyes to colorful screenshots/builds etc this is one of the blogs i think of first!
@birdietrait birdie makes some of the prettiest sims i've ever seen and is such a huge inspiration when i feel like i'm about to suffer from same-face-syndrom lmao. their sims just look like real people (if that makes any sense) also snoopy is life! :]
@squea there's just something special about squea's sims. can't even put my finger on it but i just love them (especially corn! he's a treat! <333) i also use her natural cas-lighting all the time and never found another one i like as much! :]
@fl0ptrait one of the coolest ppl i met here on tumblr! just all around so nice and also very talented when it comes to creating sims that leave me hot and bothered! °-°
@stellarfalls every time i see one of bree's posts i just feel incredibly humbled and honored by the talent and the love that must've been put into creating them. you deserve every single like and reblog and then some! ily :3
@cinamun not that long ago i already mentioned cin in a post regarding story simblrs i find inspiring, so i might repeat myself when i say that i'm in awe of the dedication she puts into her story. i can see it despite not actively following it and i love that! probably doesn't even get as much attention she should!
@alientown already love her for the name alone BUT (!) the sims she creates are really unique and have so much personality! just love looking at them and imagining what their stories could be! :]
@nigmos i could look at dee's sims all day and find more and more reasons why i find them to be so beautiful! every post of her on my dash just makes me really happy and gives me a lot of inspiration for my own sims! :]
@lilamausmaus she has probably one of the coolest sim styles (in my humble opinion) her game just looks like a comic and i love it so much! her nervous object stole my heart more than once T.T she's also one of the nicest ppl here for sure! i get so much inspiration from her posts! :]
@lucidicer honestly whenever olli posts an edit, my eyes just pop out of my skull in the best way possible and i'm not mad about that at all it's just fucking art! love him and his posts to bits (even though he didn't want to share his cheese sticks with me once... °-°)
@alelelesimz i always happy-cry in simlish when i see alelele's posts, especially recreations of sims from the franchise. I LOVE the urbz remakes so much, they're the absolute best and looking at them makes me want to replay this game over and over again T.T their blog is definitely a huge source of inspiration for me!
okay that was cheesy af but all of those simblrs are the first ones that came to mind when i read nonny's question, but by FAR not all of them. again, if you ever saw me like/comment/reblog your post, know that you're an inspiration to me too and that ily! <333
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Ok, I just found your wonderful blog and can't help myself, I have to ask for a request TwT One of my too many ideas would be: HLC's reaction - professors included - to Mc's Excuse after MC was really mean in an argument. I have an almost-Slytherin-but-then-Hufflepuff-MC, so...xD If you would like to do that - pls feel free to make it as fluffy or serious as you like - it would make me "Happy as Fig"....yes, thank you a lot! <3
A/N: I feel this one on a personal level. Let's make it soft with MC saying sorry
HLC REACT TO MC APOLOGIZING AFTER A HEATED ARGUMENT
MC: They know there's no real excuse for what they said. They could give their reasons, prescriptive and feelings at the time of the argument but they can't un-say what left their mouth. They almost wished they knew how to use the memory charm. Then they might not be standing there awkwardly awaiting the judgment from their friends and professors.
SEBASTIAN SALLOW: He sighs. "If we haven't been through what we have up to this point, I wouldn't accept your apology. But...we've both said things we regret. No point in dwelling." He smiles and offers the seat next to him for them to join him for study. When they sit down, he whispers out the side of his mouth. "Now, if you want me to forget, on top of forgiving you, you'll help me with my most recent relic discovery."
OMINIS GAUNT: He's been rigidly silent since the argument. MC almost walks away before he finally speaks. "I'm tired, MC. I'm tired of people hurting me. While I understand that words are difficult when emotions run high, please, don't say things you don't mean." His entire world is transcribed in sound, so people's words mean more to him than most. MC's apology better be sincere if they hope to keep him as a friend.
ANNE SALLOW: MC's apology leaves a bitter taste in her mouth, no matter how sincere they are. She's heard these types of "I'm sorry" speeches from Sebastian and her uncle before. Do they really expect her to forget everything just because they feel bad? "I'll accept your apology, on the condition that you don't speak to me like that going forward. If a conversation becomes too heated, I think at best if we take a break and let cooler heads prevail."
IMELDA REYES: "Oh, you're sorry? Go boil your head." She practically spits at them as she returns to what she's doing. She doesn't forgive easily. She's burned too many bridges in her life to care about one more. At least, that's what she keeps trying to tell herself. What MC had said really hurt and she hates the fact that they have that sort of effect on her.
NATSAI ONAI: "I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have let my pride escalate things the way they did. Maybe then we wouldn't be in this position. It is big of you to apologize first. Thank you, my friend." She opens her arms for a hug. If MC isn't a hugger, she just gives them a smile.
GARRETH WEASLEY: He won't admit it to them, but he had screwed up more than one brew from accidentally crying into it. What they said really hurt and now that they were apologizing, he was struggling to keep it together. "No, I'm not- *sniff* crying. I got batwing fumes in my eyes. I....I just want us to be friends again, okay?"
LEANDER PREWETT: He didn't have much self esteem before he met MC, and now that his worst fears were confirmed by them berating him because he disagreed with them, he felt worse than ever. Hearing them apologize to him felt surreal. No one ever apologized to him. Somehow, he was always in the wrong. He feels more vulnerable than ever. "So...does this mean you don't hate me?"
AMIT THAKKAR: He stubbornly holds on to his frustration with MC. He KNOWS he's in the right. They were being unreasonable and resorted to insults out of egotistical retaliation. They surprise him when they come back. "I'll admit, I didn't think I'd see you again for a while. It takes a lot for someone to swallow their pride and admit they were wrong. Thank you, for apologizing."
EVERETT CLOPTON: He thought that was it. MC didn't want to be his friend anymore. He couldn't look them in the eye, even when they needed to tell him something important. He's stuck in his own head until he hears them say the words "I'm sorry." He snaps out of it and stares wide eyed at them. "Really? You mean it? This isn't...you're not messing with me, are you?" He needs some reassurance, but afterwards he'll forgive it easily.
POPPY SWEETING: "Well look who came crawling back." Her eyes are full of malice. This won't be an easy apology. As soft spoken as she is, her heart is hardened to people who've wronged her. It's her defense mechanism. MC will have to do more than say, they'll have to prove it.
~~~
MC's got a lot of gall to think arguing with their professors was a good idea.
ELEAZAR FIG: He knows them better than anyone else in the school. They'd come around, they just needed space. He hadn't punished them for what they said. He smiles warmly when they come back and puts a hand on their shoulder. "It takes a lot of courage to admit you're wrong. Thank you, for showing how much you've grown and matured. I know plenty of adults who wouldn't do what you've just done. They would double down, if anything else. I'm proud of you."
MATILDA WEASLEY: She had taken SO many house points. No one argues with the deputy headmistress and gets away with it unscathed. "It isn't to me you should apologize. I'm sure your housemates aren't too pleased to hear that they are now in dead last because of you. Better get to work earning those back."
CHIYO KOGAWA: "Nothing like manual labor to bring out the regret of one's actions." She had them organizing and repairing the quidditch supplies without magic. "Thank you for apologizing, now get back to it. The quidditch season may have been canceled this year, but it needs to be ready for the next."
AESOP SHARP: He gives them an indeterminate reply to their apology, but, deep down, he's impressed. While they had certainly gone too far with their argument, they apologized for making it personal. He can relate to being so passionate about something that you're willing to defend it, tooth and nail. That didn't stop him from taking house points and giving them detention. They were stuck organizing and counting the alchemy supplies.
ABRAHAM RONEN: He hadn't taken house points or given detention. While what they said was certainly disrespectful, he did not believe that the lashing of adolescence should be so strongly punished. They were clearly passionate about their argument. He only wished he could understand their point of view better. He's proud of them for apologizing and rewards them with house points.
MIRABEL GARLICK: As much as she tries to keep her teaching environment positive, she will not stand for disrespectful behavior. She takes house points and dismisses MC before she gives them detention. Her heart melts when MC returns looking so sorrowful and full of regret. She forgives everything and is willing to let bygones be bygones, just don't let it happen again.
MUDIWA ONAI: MC's boldness doesn't surprise her. As long as it was just the two of them, she was willing to let everything slide. If MC had tried doing that in front of students, she would have to make an example of them. She doesn't take house points or gives detention, merely expresses her disappointment. It must have done the trick, because MC almost immediately apologized.
BAI HOWIN: MC must have been aching to muck out the beast pens by hand, speaking to her in such a way, because that's exactly what they got. Three consecutive days of detention just to clean every single beast pen. She nods curtly when they apologize.
DINAH HECAT: She isn't phased in the slightest by MC's outburst, but her eyes tell MC they have gone too far. There's a darkness in them warning MC to back down before she puts them down. "I suggest you get to your next lesson, MC. Wouldn't want you to get lost. Hogwarts is as unforgiving as it is beautiful to those who exploit it's patience." She walks away, not particularly accepting or denying any apology.
CUTHBERT BINNS: He was taken aback by MC so fervently accosting him. He had never been spoken to in such a way by a student in life or in death. He wasn't really sure how to handle it. He gives them a nod when they eventually apologize. "Very good then. Now...in 1252, the goblins-"
SATYAVATI SHAH: She gave detention. That's where MC surprised her with their sincere apology. She narrows her eyes, searching for any sign of weakness. They passed. "I'm sure you've seen the error of your ways, but you still have to finish polishing all of the telescopes by hand."
PHINEAS NIGELLUS BLACK: They're lucky they weren't expelled for what they said. He haughtily huffs and shoos them away like they're an annoying gnat. "Your detentions start tonight. I suggest you get going." He did have slight satisfaction that they were apologetic, but that was likely only because they had detention every night for the rest of the year.
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brf-rumortrackinganon · 20 hours
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In case you haven't seen it--she's getting an influencer to post her product.
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So this tells me two things:
If you're giving away a homemade product that you've made in your kitchen, like a Christmas gift to your friends, you don't have to put an ingredients label on it. But if it's being manufactured or produced in a commercial/approved kitchen, it needs to have an ingredients label. Maybe we just can't see the ingredients label but I feel pretty confident saying she's not selling this yet and is claiming to have made this herself to be able to get word-of-mouth from Sussex Squad.
They're banking on exclusivity and limited edition sales to justify an outrageous cost. I wouldn't be surprised if we see this being sold at over $40 per unit.
Oy vey.
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A/N ::: Was feeling a little psycho at work so I started this on Friday and brought it home to finish. Also, this might be my life now. I haven’t written anything but that blip whenever about Takemichi HC’s. It could also not be permanent? I’ve got about a month left of training before they release me into the wilds of working at D.H.H.S. So maybe after I’m out there, I’ll chill a bit and write more. But until then, I sincerely apologize for how long the shit I’ve written lately is. 
C/W ::: Baji x (.Calmly.)Obsessed F.reader (sorta? She has admired him from afar for way too long. You know that feeling you get when you like someone and you've kept it to yourself the WHOLE time and you feel like you're going to go absolutely fucking nutzo if you don't tell someone? Yes. It's exactly like that. Enjoy bby burbs!
WC ::: 3,303 (10 pages - give or take an inch? - on G-Docs)
MDNI under the cut. Please and thank you.
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You watched his hands move across his thighs and the jealousy that bubbled up in your gut because they weren't your hands caught you completely off guard.
You were obsessed with Baji.
Obsessed.
Like, to the point where your friends had started to notice and you could barely hold a conversation with anyone when he was around. You'd taken to hiding in the shadows and watching him from afar. But not in a creepy way. You just really, really liked him. And you had never found a good way to approach him and let him know. So you watch. You watched from a spot where you thought no one could see you seeing him.
And if you're being honest with yourself, it drove you wild how his lips got to sit there, like smug little assholes, right next to each other. Against each other. All. Of. The. Time.
The unfairness of this was unbelievable.
He doesn't know the luck he has, getting to be in his own skin. That he gets to be with himself 24/7, 365. Day and night. Dressed and undressed. Wet or dry.
It's absolute bullshit.
And you're starting to think it's time you do something about it.
But what? You've never said a word to him. What would you even say?
The question haunts you as you watch him talk with his friends. His eyes light up and his smile is so fucking cute. And the way his hair falls in his face sometimes? God, it's so perfect.
"Hey, you okay?" your friend asks, leaning over and snapping her fingers in your face. "You look a little..."
"I'm fine," you say sharply, trying to shake off the haze of Baji's face that had hypnotized you.
What was it about him that had you so transfixed?
WHY was he the bulls eye on which you honed in?
You've had crushes before, but none have ever been like this. You can't stop thinking about him. Can't stop imagining what it would be like to touch him, to kiss him, to make him yours. To let yourself be his.
"I gotta go," you told your friend. "I'll ... later. I'll talk to you later." They looked up at you as you walked away from the table you were sitting at and knew you were up to no good by the expression on your face.
They mumbled something as you left. Something like "Don't do anything stupid" or "Don't do anything I wouldn't do." But you really didn't care.
You were on a mission now.
You were going to tell Keisuke Baji how you feel.
Right now.
You found him sitting alone on a bench outside the school, scribbling something down in a notebook. He seemed to be in his own world.
Perfect.
You walked over and stood beside him, trying not to stare too hard. Trying not to make it so obvious that you were practically drooling over him.
"Hey," you said, feeling your heart race like it's never raced before. "Can I talk to you about something?"
He looked up at you and smiled, gesturing for you to sit next to him.
You took a deep breath and just said it.
"Hi, Baji. So - oh, th-thanks for letting me sit here with you. Um, I don't know how to really get into this. So I'm just going to dive head first and hope I don't hit the bottom. Ok. Here ... here - here I go."
You took a deep breath and shook your hands at your sides. It was not discreet. But Baji was looking you in the eye and you were hoping he didn't notice your outwardly expressed nerves.
"Ok. Pfffooo. I ... I like you. I've liked you for ages now. And ... and I don't know what else to do because I go crazy every time I see you and I can't be with you. I want to be with you, Baji. You're so beautiful and I just want to lay next to you for hours and talk about the most mundane shit you could ever imagine. I mean, it doesn't all have to be mundane. We can talk about exciting things, too. I just ... ugh, fuck. I don't know. I just need to be with you. Does that make sense? Fuck. I'm sorry to dump this on you all at once. But I seriously can't take another second of carrying this around on my own."
He laughed.
HE LAUGHED.
"What the fuck is so funny?" You yelled.
Baji reached up and pulled his ear buds from his ears. "I'm sorry, I didn't hear a word you said. Mind repeatin' that for me?"
You felt your entire body deflate. Your hopes and dreams and fantasies and everything that you had been building up to just crumbled to the ground and splattered all over the sidewalk right in front of you.
You shook your head and stood up. "Ffffffucking kidding me RIGHT NOW?!" you screamed, pointing your finger in his face. "You're really going to make me do this again? You fucking asshole!"
Baji looked genuinely confused and a little frightened. He's used to men - large men - being pissed at him. Used to them throwing punches and calling him names. But you, a sweet-looking, chubby (and dare he say, pretty sexy) girl getting in his face like this was something he'd not experienced too often.
He was kind of enjoying it.
"Fuck, Baji!" you said, trying to hold back tears. "Why did you have to go and do that?" You stormed off and left him sitting there. Completely and utterly stupefied.
"The fuck did ... what the fuck just happened?" He stood and looked around to see if anyone else had caught the scene that just unfolded. He didn't see anyone that could help him out here.
Baji began to walk after you into the forest across the street from the school. "Hey! W-wait up! What the fuck was that all about!? Goddamn it, y/n. Stop!" He called out to you.
You stopped. "You ... you know my name?" You were already on the verge of crying again. That was the last thing you needed. Well, short of him telling you to fuck off and never speak to him again.
"Huh? Of course I know your fucking name. Jesus. It's not that big a school."
You turned around and faced him, eyes still wet with tears. "Really? That's the only way you know my name? Nice. Because you've never talked to me before today. And now you're standing here, calling me by my name."
Baji rubbed his face a few times, groaning into his hands. "That ... oh my god. That's not the only way I know you name. And that literally means nothing."
"It means you know who I am. It means you've thought about me. It means you've noticed me, Baji."
He rolled his eyes and tried not to smile. "Don't go making it into something it's not. I've noticed you. But that's all. I just ... you seem interesting. That's it. Nothing more."
"Really?"
He shrugged. "Yep."
"Well, I'm sorry for dumping all that on you just now," you said, wiping your tears away. "Even though you didn't hear a fucking word I said to you."
"Don't go assumin' shit. Heard plenty. An' what I didn' hear, I read your lips when you were screamin' at me. You're kinda crazy, you know that?" He chuckled.
"Don't laugh at me, asshole." You said.
"I'll laugh at whatever the fuck I want to laugh at, you shit." He smirked at you.
And god. Your pussy clenched when he spoke to you like that. How could one man have the key to your whole world. How could he have the power to make you melt with just a few words and a look?
"So, you wanna hang out or somethin'?" He asked. "Seems like you've got a lot of thoughts and shit to talk about. What're ya doin' righ' now?"
You bit your lip, trying to hide your smile. "N- I'm not doing anything right now. You want to ... hang out?"
"Sure, I mean. If you're cool with it. We can grab a bite. I like biting - bites - fuck! Food. I mean food."
You blushed. "I like bites, too."
"Oh yeh? What's your favorite, um, where's your favorite place to get ... a bite?" He asked, his voice getting low and heavy with darkness. He took a couple of steps toward you and tucked his hair behind his ears.
The smile gracing your pretty face had fallen into some abyss of horny. The depths of which you'd never known. And you wanted to delve deeper. You wanted to delve deeper with him.
"Baji, I-"
"I know what kin'uh bites you're talkin' about, y/n. It's written all over your face." He took another couple of steps toward you, almost closing the gap that remained there between your body and his.
You couldn't believe this was happening. Baji. The guy you had been obsessing about crushing on for months was standing in front of you, saying all the right things, giving you all the right looks.
"I think we should do something about it," he continued, his eyes scanning your face with a determination no one had ever looked at you with before. "'M fucking hungry as fuck, right now. What 'bout you?"
You gulped, trying to steady yourself. You weren't sure what to say. Your head was spinning, your heart was racing, and your cunt was throbbing. But you managed to nod and say, "Yeah. H-hungry. T-too."
He took your hand and led you out of the forest, away from the school and toward his bike. "Let's go somewhere ... somewhere we can be alone." He said, looking back at you with his patent-pending 'Baji grin.'
You nodded again, unable to form any more words because it's hard to talk when you're heart is about to beat out of your throat.
He handed you his helmet and helped you climb onto the back of his bike. "Hold on tight. 'M in a hurry, so, not gonna go slow. Got it?"
You wrapped your arms around his perfectly tapered waist and dug your fingertips into his hard abs. "Got it." You said.
He sped off into the street, weaving in and out of traffic like a pro. You closed your eyes and just held on, feeling the wind whipping against your skin. Feeling his back against your chest. It was like a dream. The kind where you're flying. It was exhilarating. It was the perfect piece to finish out what had been an incredibly frustrating day.
And soon enough, you found yourself in a secluded spot overlooking the city. It was beautiful and serene, and you had never felt more alive (or at peace).
Baji leaned back on the grass and patted the spot next to him. "C'mere."
You laid down next to him and stared up at the sky. "So, what are we doing out here?" You laughed, "I thought we were going to get a bite"
He shook his head, "Well, you're gonna get a bite. Several probably. But you just let me worry about that, doll." He reached out for your hand and laced his fingers with yours. "You know, I've noticed you for a long time too. An' I thought you were the prettiest girl. But I never found a good way to talk to you, ya know?"
You sighed, "I understand. It's hard to just ... walk up to someone and say, 'Hey, I like you.'"
"You did, though."
Rolling your eyes, you corrected him, "No, I screamed it at you, more or less."
He smiled, "Yeah. fair 'nuff. I ain't worried 'bout it though. Least ya told me what you're thinking." He paused and glanced over at you, "You wanna know what I'm thinking?"
You nodded.
"Well, I think you're sexy as hell. An' I wanna kiss the fuck out of you."
"You've got some nerve."
He looked confused, "Wha- some nerve? How the fuck so?"
You leaned in close to his face and said, "Taking this long to do anything about it."
His brow unfurrowed. That signature smile he has returned. And all bets were off.
Baji grabbed you up into his arms and pulled you onto his lap. His lips met yours and you felt like you were in heaven. He tasted sweet and a little smoky and it was driving you wild.
His cologne was filling your senses. You felt heady. You felt so high and it was not any time soon that you wanted to come down from this with him.
"God, I've wanted to do this for so fucking long," he groaned as he nibbled on your bottom lip.
"You?! You've wanted this for so long? Have you not seen me -" you started.
And he finished your sentence, "in the dark recesses of the school? F'k yeh I've seen you. It's fucking hot that you're following me 'round. Spyin' on me 'n shit. I started leavin' my curtains open for you. I kinda hoped you'd come 'round my apartment building s'I could give ya a show. But ya never did."
Your face turned a bright shade of red, "I wasn't ... spying on you. I was just ... admiring you from afar. Closely ... from a-afar. Shut up."
He chuckled, "Same fuckin' thing. An' I'm glad you did. Cuz now, we're here. 'N I get to do this," he pulled you closer to his chest and kissed you again. His tongue moved across your lips and you opened up for him. You felt his hands move up your back and tangle themselves in your hair, pulling it back. Exposing your neck to him.
Baji bit down on your neck and you gasped, "Fuck, Baji! That's - feels - hoh fuck!"
He licked and sucked on your neck, doing little to ease the sting of the imprint of his perfect teeth. But you loved how it felt. He continued kissing you, leaving a trail of wetness from your collarbone to your earlobe. You moaned loudly and he smiled against your skin. "That's it. Wanna hear you make those pretty sounds f'me."
His hands wandered down to the zipper of your jeans and pushed them down over your ass, exposing your panties. "Let's see what you got goin' on down there, y/n."
"Mm, well, Baj' ..." You lifted your hips up and let him pull your pants off, along with your shoes and socks.
"Don't tell me you're embarrassed," he said, smirking up at you. "Don't you know how fucking hot you are?"
You shook your head, "Nope - not really, no." You shrugged.
"Well, lemme show you, then," he said, moving his hand up your thigh and sliding it under your panties. He rubbed his fingers against your slit and you bucked your hips forward. "That's it, baby. Like that? Course you like that. Fuck, you're so wet already."
Baji pulled your panties down and put them in his coat pocket. "For later, when 'm all alone in my room."
You moaned again and he spread your legs wide, "Can't wait to taste you, y/n. Been dreaming about it for so fucking long."
"YOU'VE been dreaming about this for so long? Have you fucking met me?" You were only half kidding. Because you'd been on one about Baji for nearly the whole school year, accounting for the last 8 months of your life. Your time. In school and especially out. This was a fucking dream come true for you.
"Yeah, yeah. Now shut up and let me eat you out. Please?" He looked up at you with puppy dog eyes and you nodded.
"Please."
He grinned and lowered his head between your legs, his tongue darting out to lick your clit. You moaned loudly and gripped his long, dark hair, pulling it hard. "Oh fuck! Baji!"
He lapped at your cunt like his life depended on it, laving and licking and sucking your pussy.
Your hips took on a mind of their own, moving in a way that you've never experienced. You're not sure if it was Baji or if it was you determining your physical articulations.
You're no virgin. But the people you've been with have never made you feel the way Baji is making you feel.
And he's barely touched you.
Yet.
"I'm ... oh god ... I'm gonna cum, Baji. Don't stop! Please ... don't fucking stop!"
He sucked on your clit and you felt yourself let go. You came all over his face, drenching him in your juices. And he didn't seem to mind one bit.
"Fuck, y/n ... hot as hell."
You grabbed his shirt and pulled him up to you, kissing him deeply. As he lowered his body down against yours, you could feel his cock. Hard and bated in his clothing.
You thanked every God you could think of in that moment that he wasn't wearing jeans today. This was so much better.
You reached down and untied his pants, pulling his cock out of his boxers. He groaned and you looked up at him, "I need you inside me. Please. Baji. Fuck me."
He nodded, "Yeah, yeah. I'm gonna fuck you so good, y/n. So hard you won't be able to take a single step tomorrow without cursing my name under your breath and your pussy clenching up around nothing when you think about how fuckin' good this dick felt."
And he did. He fucked you in the grass, under the stars, where anyone could see you.
Baji was unpredictable in his movements but potent in his execution. He kept you poised for almost anything. If you'd been standing, you'd have been on your toes the whole time. Literally and metaphorically.
He felt so good, dragging his cock in and out of your dripping hole. You were moaning so loudly that it egged him on. Driving that intense desire deep within him to show itself in the cool night air.
"I feel you. Gettin' tighter f'me. Fuckin' feel so good, doll. Fuck. Keep that up 'n I migh' jus' cum with ya. You wan' me t'fill ya up? Mm? Where you want this at?"
You moaned, right on the edge of wringing his cock dry, "'N'side, 'n'side, Baji. Want you t'cum inside of me. Please! Fuck, I'm gonna cum!"
He thrust into you, irregularly. Frenzied, almost.
You felt his cock throbbing as he buried himself inside of you. He grunted loudly and held you tight, his body shaking. "Fuckin' take it, y/n. Fuck! Take it all, baby."
Your pussy contracted around him, squeezing him, greedily drawing from him every drop of cum he had to offer.
And you were happy to take it.
"Jesus ... Baji. I ... fuck. I've ... fuck." You giggled and kissed him back as he brought your face to his.
"Mm, don't go gettin' all gushy on me." He pulled out and tucked himself back into his pants and you put your clothes back on and stood up, looking at him with a smile.
"Gush is my specialty, though." He laughed and wrapped his arms around your waist.
"Fine, fine. So what now?"
You tilted your head, "What d'ya mean what now?"
He buried his nose in your neck and said "You know what now."
"Baji, I don't want to leave you."
He nodded, "I know. I don't wanna leave you either. But what NOW?"
You pushed away from him a little bit, "If you say that to me one more time I'm going to shove you off of this cliff!" Laughing, he kissed your forehead.
"Let's go back to town. We'll grab a bite - with our clothes on - 'n I'll take you home - back to my place, I mean."
Leaning into the kiss, you nodded and walked back to his bike.
Hand in hand. 
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@kazutora-kurokawa @viburnt @katkusuo @darkstarlight82 @arlerts-angel @southside-otaku @trevengersprincess
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bellysoupset · 8 hours
Note
Okay so this is what I thought of while reading the interactions with the kids.
I just remembered that Vince is lactose intolerant, right? So how would you feel about lactose intolerant Vince with (reluctant) caretaker Max for a change?
I mean I can imagine maybe a class party or something with a kid wanting to make sure that Mr. Monacelli (or Mr. Mo because that is freaking cute) is having fun too, so they keep bringing him snacks.
I can totally see Vin accepting anything and everything from a kid with doe eyes and not having any way to refuse because the kid is watching him and wants to see Vin eat it. (Let's be honest, Vince would never even speak up because he wouldn't want to hurt their feelings).
After that Vin is feeling gradually sicker and sicker until Max can't keep ignoring him anymore, so Vin has to spill the tea.
Then Max is like "why did you even accept?" While Vin, slightly offended, is like "did you really expect me to say no to that kid?"
I know it's really detailed, feel free to ignore it, I just couldn't get this little scenario out of my head.
- 💜
💜! I hope you like this one, I slightly twisted it and it's a little different from my usual... So let me know what you think!
--------------------
Max frowned, leaning on the doorway of the kindergarten. His hands were full with a large tupperware with baking soda, food coloring and vinegar, the usual science fair volcano mix. 
What caused him to pause, though, was the sight inside the classroom. Mr. Monacelli, or Mr. Mo to the little ones, was standing, with a kid on his hip, a little girl… Livia, judging by how comfortable he seemed to be as he held her. 
Liv’s dark wavy hair was up pigtails and she had face paint on, the tip of her nose painted black and whiskers on her cheek, a matching look that was mirrored on the other children. Cats, the Musical, kindergarten version? Max thought with a snort.
Vince also had face paint on and he was chewing something Livia had just pushed inside his mouth, out of a box. Across the room Max noticed a tall chocolate cake, with a glittery candle that said 7 on top.
That explained it. 
Birthday parties were always the bane of his existence, so he was incredibly glad he barely taught kindergarten and the older kids would rather die than celebrate in class. As far as he could remember it, he had bad experiences under his belt. From his mom trying to throw him a fully vegan party that had been a flop with him and his friends, to his father getting drunk and forgetting about his birthday altogether, to the fact once he turned eighteen his birthday all but disappeared as celebratory day. 
“Mr. Mo,” a kid ran across the room, with glitter face paint all the way to his scalp. Max snorted at the sight, the parents surely would be over the moon about that, “tell Jess she can’t play with my toy.”
Vince frowned, crouching down to look at the little boy and Max frowned, staring at the scene. He couldn’t figure out this dude. Monacelli gave off military vibes. Football star, with his little homophobic fit the other day, driving that ridiculous motorcycle everywhere… And there he was, covered in glittery paint, scolding a boy for not sharing his toys and being fed cake pops by his little sister and her group of friends.
It just didn’t make any sense.
“Daniels, do you need anything?” 
Max’s cheeks burned as he realized he had been caught staring and he shook his head, as five little heads looked at him, as well as Vince. 
“No, just passing by.”
“Alright,” Vince waved him off, taking the boy’s hand and dragging him across the room to apologize.
It was a couple hours later when they met again. Max was smelling like bleach, after finishing up a biology class with the 10th graders, and ready to head home as he entered the staff’s lounge to retrieve his bag. He raised his eyebrows as he found Monacelli sitting on one of the couches, in the furthest corner, with his arms crossed to his chest and his head tipped back, as if he was asleep.
“Hey,” Max kicked Vince’s foot to wake him in case he was asleep, “day’s over.”
Vince wasn’t asleep — or maybe he was a really quiet sleeper? —  because he sat up straight with a groan, moving his arms to wrap around his stomach, “what do you want?”
Max frowned at the lackluster response, so unlike the man who always seemed to have his energy up, “school’s over, are you planning on crashing here? Maurice is gonna be locking this room soon.”
Vince let out a sigh, using the couch to push himself up and the other man realized he was a horrible shade of white… Damn near green.
“You look horrible,” Max said, taking a step back as he noticed Vince swaying slightly on his feet. Instead of denying, Vince simply nodded, bringing up a shaky hand to wipe the sweat off his brow. 
“Yeah, I know-” he interrupted himself with a soft, sickly burp. He didn’t bother finishing his sentence, ceasing every movement as he gulped down, only to let out another little burp and a groan.
“What’s wrong with you?” Max eyed him suspiciously. There was no way this man had caught another stomach bug after measly five weeks of having one, right? 
Vince pressed his forehead to the metal locker in the teacher’s lounge, seemingly devoid of any energy to put in his combination and retrieve his bag. Most teachers didn’t even put in a combination, everyone used the standard 0000. 
“Monacelli,” he stepped closer, despite wanting nothing to do with illness or this guy. It was just unnerving. 
“I’m fine,” Vince breathed out, but it would have been a lot more convincing if he wasn’t swallowing in convulsively and clutching his stomach. Stomach, which by the way, was pressing against his work polo. The guy wasn’t small by any means and Max could’ve told he had a tummy to begin with, but now it was nearly poking out. 
“Yeah, you look terrific,” Max rolled his eyes, walking to retrieve his own bag and deciding he was done with the whole scene, “feel better-”
He never quite finished his sentence, before Vince let out a little strangled noise and then rushed across the room, to the teacher’s bathroom. He slammed the door behind him and Max cringed in sympathy as he heard a muffled groan. 
Now he couldn’t just leave the idiot, right? Not after he had driven him home? 
Max carefully walked closer, tapping his knuckles against the door, “Monacelli, do you need anything? Meds? The nurse? Your mom?”
He expected to hear Vince telling him to go fuck himself, but instead there was a noise of liquid hitting liquid, followed by retching and more liquid.
Shit. Perhaps, even, literally. 
Max chewed on his lip, looking around the room helplessly as if an older adult would appear and take over the situation, but he sadly was the only adult. He looked at his watch. 3:40 PM. Office hours were over, the janitor and the security would soon be finishing their rounds and closing up the school.
“Dude,” he sighed, knocking again, “you kinda need to leave, they’re gonna lock us here.”
“Go away…” Vince groaned, his voice raspy and choked up.
Max scoffed, “are you crying?” really? “Mona-”
“I said, go away,” Vince repeated, much harsher now and Max’s mouth snapped shut, his cheeks heating up as his temper got the best of him. 
“Fine,” he said bitterly,loudly walking away,  “drown there, see if I care.”
Sadly, much to Max’s displeasure, he had a guilty conscience and couldn’t make it even to the parking lot. He let out a sigh and glared at the now empty parking lot. Only four vehicles left, one of them being Vince’s stupid motorcycle. 
There was no way the man could go home in a fucking bike.
“Moron,” Max groaned, walking back inside. He fully expected to find Vince back in the teacher’s lounge, so it was much to his surprise when they ran into each other in the hallway. Or rather, he ran, because Vince was frozen in place, an arm wrapped tightly around his belly and breathing through the nausea carefully. 
“Oh there you are-”
“Thought I told you to leave,” Vince groaned, not looking up from the spot in the linoleum he was staring at, trying to keep his stomach in check, “careful, or I’ll believe you give a shit.”
“Fever must be through the roof, you’re delusional,” Max snarked, curiosity getting the best of him as he stepped closer and raised a hand to touch Vince’s forehead. 
Monacelli was much taller, and bigger, so when he pushed Max’s hand away with an impatient huff, the other teacher stumbled on his feet.
“I don’t have a fever,” Vince scoffed, straightening up. He looked worse, more green and more drenched in sweat, “I’m lactose intolerant and I ate- I ate half a chocolate cake…” his gut let out an upset, whiny gurgle that was loud enough for Max to hear.
The blonde stared at him for a second, before cackling “are you fucking with me!?”
When he didn’t get an answer, except for Vince’s cheek ballooning with yet another burp that he muffled with a fist, Max’s laughter lessened down to a chuckle, his shoulders shaking, “oh… You’re serious? You’re in this shape because of some chocolate?”
He really was the one to judge, Max thought with a snort, remembering he’d be hurling much sooner if he ate half a chocolate cake. But then again, he wouldn’t be stumbling around cradling his tummy and whining. 
“What do you want, Daniels?” Vince groaned, rubbing a hand over his face, “I don’t fucking get you. I helped you, not once, not twice, but three times by now, and you’re still a dick.” 
Max’s chuckle died immediately, his cheeks burning, “sorry, should I’ve been bowing and kissing your feet? What do you want, cuddles and kisses because your tummy hurts?”
Vince raised an unimpressed eyebrow, “I’m really sorry you weren’t hugged enough as a child,” he said coldly, “but yeah, actually, I do have people who take care of me when I feel ill, because I’m not a fucking jackass.”
“Says you,” Max snorted, rolling his eyes and gesturing to the empty hallway, “where’s the queue to cuddle you? I don’t see it.”
“I know what your problem with me is,” Vince scoffed, pressing his back to the wall behind him and huffing. He was shaking, which was not a good sign and Max bit down the urge to ask if the guy was okay.
“Enlighten me,” he said instead and Vince folded in half, planting his hands on his knees and breathing through a cramp.
“You’re jealous,” he said through his teeth and Max glared daggers at him, his stomach dropping to his feet. 
He wasn’t jealous, he was… He just didn’t think Vince was anything special. Surely he was allowed this opinion? 
For example, if Vince was so great, why was he about to hurl all over the floor that Maurice had probably already cleaned? That was asshole behavior. 
Max mentally patted himself on the back, before saying loudly, “here, Mr. Moron, don’t hurl all over the floor,” and pushing a garbage bin in front of the guy. He didn’t expect Vince to make immediate use of it, falling to his knees and grabbing the metal bin with his hands, hugging it to his chest as a huge gush of projectile vomit fell inside of it.
He jumped back, startled, then tip-toed closer, feeling a new shade of shitty as he heard Vince let out a whimper and bury his head in, burping wetly once more and continuing to convulse and cough. 
“If you’re such hot shit, why didn’t you not eat the thing you’re aware makes you super ill?” Max asked, mostly to himself, hesitantly moving closer to plant a hand in the middle of the guy’s back. Even down on his knees, Vince was still pretty freaking tall.
Max patted his back in a hesitant manner, then cringed as he heard footsteps down the hallway. Curse both their lucks, Vince’s because he was about to be caught hurling his brains out, and Max’s because now he’d have to look out for the prick. 
He braced for Fernanda, the principal, or Maurice, the janitor, but raised his brows as the person who rounded the corner was no one he knew. The man was well into his mid fifties or early sixties, with wavy light brown hair and blue eyes… And he was really tall.
Max cringed as suddenly he realized he knew Mr. Monacelli from parent-teacher meetings and that the old guy would be expecting him to act like a lovable guy, the same lovable teacher he was when talking about Sophia or Livia. Fuck.
“Mr. Mona-”
“Dad,” Vince croaked, lifting his head for a slight second, “fuck- Fuck, it hurts.”
Mr. Monacelli all but ignored Max as he crouched down next to his son, planting a wrinkly hand on his back and rubbing in wide circles, “I got you, I got you. Get it up and then I’m taking you home.”
Max bit the inside of his cheek so as not to chuckle at that, “Uh- Hi…?”
“Mr. Daniels,” Giuseppe zeroed him, opening a small smile, “thank you for keeping him company.”
Sure. That was what he was doing.
“Yeah, uhm- Of course,” Max scratched at his beard, as Vince let out another sickly belch, bringing up a bit more watery vomit, and then leaned back, his head hitting the lockers, chest heaving, drenched in sweat.
“Babbo, I’m dying.”
“You should be,” Giuseppe glared at him, “what a stupida idea was that?” he softly thumped on his son’s forehead, “I couldn’t believe my ears when Livia told me. Cazzo, you’re an adult, Vincenzo!”
Vince frowned, looking pathetically close to tears, “babbo,” he breathed out, wiping at his mouth and clutching his bloated belly, “later?”
“Idiota,” his father scoffed, grabbing his arm and helping him get up, “Non pensi?”
“Dad,” Vince said a little harsher and his father stopped scolding him continuously, glaring at his son. 
“Let’s go home- Thank you for helping him, Mr. Daniels,” Giuseppe said, still oblivious to the role, or lack of one, Max had played.
“Of course,” Max said cheekily, following them out, “any time, Vince. I hope your tummy feels better.”
“Go fuck yourself, Danie- Babbo!” Vince cried out, as his father slapped the back of his hand, dragging him out of the school and towards his car.
“Don’t swear at the boy, he helped you,” Mr. Monacelli glared at Vince, “get in the car.”
“What am I, five?” Vince groaned, stumbling to the car and bracing against it, breathing deeply through the nausea. 
Max bit down a smirk, “Bye Mr. Monacelli,” he said happily, “bye Vinny.” 
Behind his father’s back, Vince raised a middle finger at him.
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applbottmjeens · 3 days
Text
WEST COAST YOUTH
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tags: toxic and jealous phillip graves as usual, MW2!Era, Peak Gremlin Anna, This mf is sexist and kind of a douche, hates this girl but also wants 2 smooch her so bad just date a man tbh, Phillip Marshall Graves you're too old to be acting like this, Anna has 0 self preservation skills, This man does not treat her good
summary: The beginning of something addicting- Phillip doesn't want Anna talking to other men and deals with it like a man. (The worst way.)
Goddamn Californian girls.
West coast, liberal, chatty, young things. Usually hated their guts, but goddamn this one was just persistent.
Being annoying was her love language. And like a child or a nest of wasps, the more you reacted, the more she acted up. Somehow, against all odds, she made this into a charming trait.
She's a pretty girl in a job full of men. He hates how hyper aware of it he is now. Of how many other guys she spends her time with other than him.
He wasn't special was he? This was how she was with every guy..Right?
She calls Ghost, “Spooky” and punches his arm as thanks. She randomly sings club songs with Soap and asks him for piggyback rides. She pesters her Captain with questions over call like she pesters him. And for a girl who claims to hate this Sergeant Garrick, they sure do text a lot.
He wished she chose to stay in the Shadow Company. He could watch over her more then- keep a closer eye. Have the authority to tell these other goons to stay away from her.
But when Laswell called- she couldn't say no. She “owed her too much” she said.
They weren’t anything. Not officially. There was no labels, nothing telling them that they couldn’t fuck other people or anything. But dang it- if he didn't hate it when she gave another man those fuck me eyes. When they were together, they belonged to each other. What happened when they were apart for work was none of the others business. That was the rule.
She didn't seem to mind. Free spirited, California girl like her was just someone to occupy his time, right?
This wasn't love. He was too old for shit like that. He had his chance and blew it in a bitter, bitter divorce and his firstborn son being raised by some Governor chump. He didn't love her. And while he was certain she was pretty head over heels for him, she wasn't pushing for much.
He didn't think too much of it till he saw how much she and MacTavish got along. Messing up eachother's hair. Constantly talking to one another-
It's driving him nuts. Seeing how she laughs at his jokes as if the man she actually wants to be around isn't right there.
She walks into the room after talking to Soap, and smiles when she sees Phillip pouring himself some coffee.
"You two sure talk alot." He mentions.
"Same MOS kinda. We talk all the time." She answers, leaning on the counter by him, arms crossed.
Phillip can't take it. He bites the bullet and asks her directly. “Is there anything going on between you and MacTavish?”
Anna makes a face and snorts. “...Ew. No. Also if there was, it wouldn't be any of your business-”
“Annie.”
“Stop calling me that. I'm not a child.” She sneered. She never got around to that nickname. But he's not kidding around.
"Then stop actin' like one and listen t'me." He says firmly. He puts his coffee mug down and moves towards the smaller woman, forcing her to turn and face him.
“I don't. Want you. Flirting with other men. You understand?” Graves’ grip on her arms tightened. “...Just me.”
Anna doesn't speak for a moment. “You askin' me for a commitment?” She blinks in disbelief.
“I'm asking you not to make a fool outta me.”
She scoffs and shakes her head.“...I'm not gonna roll my stops for a guy who ain't even my man. Don't play with me, Phillip.”
She rolls her eyes like the goddamn brat she is. Does he really have to spell it out for her?
Phillip speaks low, his hands moving to her waist. “Well I am your man.”
“Wait-”
“We're together now.” He states firmly. Her usually mischievous eyes are wide and surprised. Gosh, that was cute. He'd caught her off guard.
“Wait-...Don't I get a say in this?” He cuts her off with a kiss. She melts into his arms, breathless when he finally pulls away, eyes blinking in dizzy disbelief.
“...Any more stupid questions?”
Her cheeks are still flushed. “...N-no?...I think?”
He loved shutting her up. And now he had her all to himself, and nobody could take that from him.
Well except maybe HR. But he had his way around that too.
He was keeping her. Consequences be damned...
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foressfaction · 2 days
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:Ticci Toby:{A Rewrite}
Chapter 9
WARNING:: This story contains EXTREMELY triggering topics such as Domestic/Child/Substance abuse, Death, harsh language, GORE and dissociation triggers. This story mentions mental illnesses and disorders such as Depression, PTSD, ADHD, and Tourette's Syndrome. !!TICS MAY BE TRIGGERING!!
Chapter nine
"Hey, hey listen to me okay?" A soft voice rang out, it was Lyra's. Toby opened his eyes to see the bright bathroom lights. He must've finally passed out. He felt a tight restriction around his torso, it was wrapped in gauze, and blood was still soaking it.
"Everything is alright, everything is alright!" She was holding his hand, obviously noticing the red hand marks. She knew what happened.
"...i fell.." Toby mumbled out.
"Dammit Toby! I know you're lying! What happened!? You were bleeding everywhere, your arms are bruised and red, and- are those hand prints?! Were you jumped?! Please tell me!"
Lyra was crying, in tears. Her hair was a mess and what little makeup she did wear was smeared all over her face.
"You're covered in so many other little cuts! You know I can't handle seeing you like this! Tell me please so I can fix this!"
He was flinching to her worried yelling. "You can't fix this, Lyra." Toby started, wincing to the pressure that finally hit him. "T-To fix it, you'd have to fix me. A-And I'm…simply unfixable."
Lyra hugged him tightly. "I'm going to tell you this…at school tomorrow….you go to that kid…and you break his arm, do you hear me! Break his arm!"
Her grip on him was very tight. He had to pat her arm to let go so she wouldn't accidentally suffocate him.
"..Sorry…Sorry I'm just so angry.." She wiped her tears. "So very angry,"
"I'll get in trouble" Toby mumed weakly, not liking the sound of her idea. "I'll do it then." She insisted though he sat up quickly, shaking his head. "No, don't! That's wh-what-what he wants, attention…a reaction!..I-if i just keep ignoring them, they'll leave me alone-"
She cut him off. "Okay well look where that got you, Toby!"
Toby flinched at her sudden words, looking a little offended. "If they don't get it, they'll do what they can until they do! It's a natural human instinct. You have to stick up for yourself!" Lyra kept going, but he felt obligated to confess. "I did try! They were too strong..They threw me around as if i was a ragdoll…"
"Then tell the police! I'll call them myself so be it!"
He perked up, fear in his eyes. "They threatened to kill me…If we do-" he warned.
Lyra went quiet, staring at him. She didn't know what to say
"..Can we just forget about it? Look, I'll b-be healed in a month or so- everything will be normal again.."
Lyra still didn't know what to say. She felt helpless. She leaned on the wall and slid down, sitting criss-crossed. She was sitting right beside the tub where he was laid and treated, and now sat in.
He didn't like the fact she just sat there, looking lifeless.
"Lyra?"
"I love you, Toby, you know?" She spoke, staring at the wall.
"But sometimes you are…A handful.." She slightly laughed under her breath. Toby couldn't tell if she was joking or annoyed, maybe both, who knew.
Toby huffed a weak laugh as well. "y-yeah because…g-getting jumped is my fault, haha.."
She faced him, sighing. "..no..no…you're just lucky i'm not as dense as mom, who believes your tiny lies about your physical state." She pulled her knees up into a hug.
During that time of pure silence, Toby was thinking about that figure he saw again, he didn't know why but he couldn't remember much about that day honestly.
•••••
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